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The wide gardens of the Claes Estate unfurl around Katarina as she clings to the young prince’s arm. In the distance, a gray haired-youth looks on with a sour expression, but Katarina is barely cognizant of him, simply enjoying the soft smile on the third prince’s face. What a gentleman!
She’s so distracted that she does not notice the loose cobblestone in the path before her. Losing her footing, she’s wrenched free of the blonde prince’s grip, and sent careening into the stones below. Time seems to slow as an expression of fear spreads across his face, but before either of them has time to act, he fades from view, replaced by the approaching ground.
Smack!
Something in her mind is dislodged; sent floating free among the see of memories and connective tissue. It drifts toward a connection…
…but it does not take.
The unconscious noble girl is merely aware of a strange itch in her mind as the thing roams free; untethered from the rest of her thoughts. Soon enough, it fades into the background noise of her conscious; washed away by the ebb and flow of her mind.
When Katarina wakes up five days later, the prince is by her side within a few hours.
“Hello, Lady Katarina. I hope you are doing a little better,” he says, and Katarina can’t help but enjoy the melodic cadence of his voice.
She smiles at him, certain that she’s still out of sorts. This has to be a dream, right?
The third prince looks at her, a clouded expression overtaking his beautiful face. “...Truly, I do apologize, Lady Katarina. To think that I was careless enough to have scarred your face...” He bows his head to her.
At that moment, Katarina has an idea. An idea that will let her keep this wonderful boy all to herself.
“You need to take responsibility!” she proclaims, crossing her arms in a haughty proclamation of anger. “How am I to receive a marriage engagement with this hideous deformity!?”
Truthfully, she’d not paid much mind when she saw it, but that’s no reason to give up such an opportunity.
She swears she sees him smile as his head is bowed, but Katarina quickly dismisses it as a trick of the light.
“I understand. If I had been more careful and observant about my surroundings, I would not have bumped into you, and perhaps you would not have ended up with a scar on your beautiful face,” Prince Gerald states. “Please accept my humble apologies.”
Katarina shakes her head. “Apologies aren’t good enough, Prince Gerald. You need to fix this!”
He looks up at her, that same charming grin on his face. “Ah. I understand. Then would an engagement to me suffice?”
Her heart nearly bursts out of her chest at those words. “R-Really?” However, remembering her situation, she plays it off. “I m-mean… yes, that is acceptable.”
“Well then. I will visit once more after you are in better spirits, Lady Katarina. Do take care.” He bows one final time before exiting her room, his entourage following behind him.
Katarina hums cheerfully as she skips to her father’s study, having returned from etiquette lessons. She is going to devote herself to becoming the prime example of a noblewoman; someone worthy of standing by Prince Gerald’s side.
As she enters the room, her father looks down to her and smiles. “Oh, my Katarina. Since you have been formally engaged to Prince Gerald, there is no one left to inherit the Claes name! To remedy this, I have decided to adopt a child from one of our branch families.”
He steps aside, and a small boy anxiously steps out from behind him, looking at her nervously.
Katarina’s smile fades almost immediately, as a gnawing uncertainty grows in her chest.
Heedless of her discomfort, Father continues. “This is Keith. From today, he will be your adopted little brother. Katarina, you are his older sister now. Please take good care of him.”
As if on cue, the boy approaches timidly. “...I’m Keith. I will be in your care...”
She stands there, not sure what to say. She has a brother? Since when? She looks toward Father for guidance, but his turquoise eyes merely gesture for her to say something to him.
She turns toward the boy, the strange feeling in her chest worsening. If he’s here, won’t Mother and Father have less time to spend with her? And what did Father mean about inheriting the Claes name? Is that not her duty?
The silence drags on as she stares at him, suddenly finding herself unwilling to even acknowledge the would-be-usurper. The boy shrinks back, the corners of his eyes beginning to glisten as she continues to glare.
Father laughs awkwardly, placing himself between the two of them. “Perhaps we can try this another time. Katarina must be tired from all her etiquette lessons.”
Later that day, when she’s walking back to her room, Mother gives Father a single nod, but pointedly ignores the child trailing behind him. She does not understand it at the time, but she mirrors the action. If Mother does not like him, then why should she?
The seasons pass quickly, and soon summer arrives. Katarina sits at the table in the dining hall of the Claes Estate. Mother and Father are at their seats. Keith, as usual, is absent.
“Oh, Katarina: We have received an invitation to a tea party. Would you like to attend?” my father asks.
“Tea party?” she replies, gently cutting a loaf of bread.
“Yes, a tea party. You are now nine, a good age for attending such a function, I would think.”
“I suppose,” she replies.
Mother nods approvingly. “It will be good practice for Katarina’s manners. Her lessons have been coming along well.”
Katarina just nods. Honestly, the etiquette lessons bore her to tears. Yet the thought of her smiling prince gives her the energy she needs to push through them. After all, how can she expect to maintain the third prince’s love and adoration if she is not the perfect model of nobility? Perhaps, if she’s lucky, she’ll even see the prince himself at the event.
Suddenly, Father’s smile strains. “As to Keith… I believe he should attend as well.”
The atmosphere turns oppressive. Mother is quiet for some time. Then, before, Father can say anything else, she rises from her seat. “Excuse me.”
As she walks out of the dining hall, Katarina continues to eat in near-silence.
“Lady Katarina. Thank you very much for attending our family’s tea party today,” says Lillian Hunt, eldest of the four Hunt sisters.
They introduce themselves in order of age, as Katarina curtsies to each. It’s only on the last that the pattern of repetition is interrupted, as instead of the yellow hair and eyes of her older siblings, the last’s are a coppery red.
“...H-Hello... It is n-nice to meet you,” the girl says in a quiet voice. “I am the... fourth sister, M-Mary Hunt...”
Katarina takes a moment to appraise the girl. She’s different from her sisters, but admittedly quite pretty. However, that shy attitude of hers is grating. Still, best to follow decorum.
“I am Katarina Claes, firstborn daughter of Duke Claes. It is nice to meet you, Lady Hunt.”
The girl nods quickly before filing off. The other three sisters follow suit shortly afterwards.
She takes her time mingling with the party-goers, remembering the etiquette and decorum Mother has drilled into her head. Yet she is once again incredibly bored. She cannot care less about these people’s thoughts. They are, quite honestly, beneath her. She soon grows tired of the charade, and excuses herself, looking for a secluded area to rest.
She quickly finds herself lost in Hunt Manor, which, while not nearly as large as her own, is still quite labyrinthine. Eventually, she stumbles on an elegant garden. It almost lifts her spirit to see the beautiful floral arrangements and breathtaking landscaping.
Almost.
The thing that actually gets her excited is when she sees the gray hair of the fourth prince, poking over a rose bush. On closer inspection, he is talking to the Hunt girl with the chestnut hair. Yet she could not care less about their conversation. Instead, she turns around, making her way back to the party area. If Prince Alan is here, than certainly Gerald must be as well!
She spots him almost immediately, several of his attendants turning toward her in alarm as she emerges from the hall. For the briefest of moments, it almost seems like he has a frown on his face, but as she moves closer, she knows she must have been mistaken, as the boy is once again wearing his most beautiful smile.
“Ah, Lady Katarina,” he begins. “I did not know you were attending this party.”
Truthfully, that’s why she feels so strongly for him. While the others may judge her, or whisper things behind her back, Prince Gerald is always there for her, willing to listen to her troubles while wearing a kind and understanding smile.
She grabs his arm, looping hers into it. He goes stiff as she does, clearly overwhelmed by emotion.
“I saw your brother out in the gardens, with the youngest of the Hunt Sisters.”
“Ah, yes, Mary Hunt.” His smile turns contemplative. “Hm. Strange. I wonder if Mother has told him yet…”
“Pardon?”
He pulls away from her, making a dismissive gesture with his previously-occupied arm. “Ah, you need not worry about that. It is just an amusing coincidence.”
“Is it because you dislike him?”
His smile strains. “Dislike?”
She makes a dismissive gesture in-turn, cutting past his pleasantries. “I am not surprised. Brothers are truly useless creatures.”
He stares at her for some time, smile not falling, but eyes oddly cold. “…Yes. Quite.”
She smiles, pulling him into an embrace. “You always understand me.”
He once again goes stiff, clearly still overcome by her affection. She smiles wider.
As long as she has Gerald, she does not need anything else.
Summer soon comes around again. For some reason, her fiancé’s visits are becoming less frequent. She eventually decides he must be busy. After all, it’s not like he neglects her. Sure, they’re less common, but when she does see him, he is always wearing that ever-patient and understanding smile.
Claes Manor is quiet. Keith does not leave his room often, and when he does, he takes care to avoid her and Mother. She hardly sees him at all anymore, which she is more than happy about. Aside from the strained relationship between Mother and Father, she can pretend things are how they used to be; That everything is right with her family.
Her tutoring continues with more topics and subjects added to her curriculum. Mother had insisted that Keith and her would be tutored separately, which Katarina supports. Yet aside from her etiquette lessons, she finds it hard to work up the effort to pay attention or care about learning much else. One tutor even snapped at her for dozing off, and so she made certain that she’d never have to see his ugly face again!
For some reason, the servants have given her a wider berth since then.
She finds herself wishing she could see Gerald more often. Her thoughts often wander off to him in the middle of her lessons and training.
Her wish is soon granted, and she receives news that Gerald and Alan are going to hold a tea party at the royal castle. She quickly finds herself aside with excitement, counting the days until she’s reunited with her sweet prince. The wait is torturous, but she soon finds herself stepping out of the carriage, basking in the beauty of the royal gardens.
The event is resplendent. While vaguely similar to the party the Hunt family hosted a year ago, as befitting of royalty, the event is larger and the décor more elaborate. There are so many faces mingling in the gardens, both familiar and unfamiliar to her.
She smiles as she sees a glimpse of Prince Gerald’s blonde hair, and hitches her dress as she runs over to him. “Prince Gerald!”
He looks at her. “Ah. Lady Katarina. Welcome to our party.”
He bows, and she curtsies in response, remembering the lessons her Mother and etiquette instructor taught her.
“It is good to see you, Prince Gerald.”
He nods, smiling. “I hope you have a good time, Lady Katarina.”
Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
Again, his smile strains. “Ah. Well, I need to greet the other guests arriving after you, so—”
“Can you not make time for your fiancée?” she pleads.
His smile does not falter. “I promise I shall always give you the time you deserve, Lady Katarina, but right now—”
“No! I demand you pay attention to me this instant!” she shouts.
Several nearby nobles turn to face them. Katarina does not care.
“Lady Katarina. You are making a scene.”
“Do not change the subject!”
His blue eyes turn cold. “I have had just about—"
“Excuse me.”
Suddenly, a black-haired noble steps between them. As he turns to face her, Katarina feels her knees go weak. The boy has the most beautiful face she’s ever seen.
“My name is Nicol Ascart,” he says, bowing.
“K-Katarina Claes,” she stammers, trying to keep her thoughts in order.
He gestures for her to follow him, and she does, still in a daze. They exchange pleasantries as they do. The conversation is banal, but Katarina finds she doesn’t mind. From those lips, even his curt small-talk seems like the most interesting thing in the world.
It’s only after the boy wraps up their conversation and walks away that she realizes Gerald is nowhere to be found.
She yells and kicks over a table, not caring about the stares of the nearby nobles. Mother gives her a talking-to later, but she does not care. She will be with her prince.
No matter what she has to do.
When she finally enters the academy… she hates the commoner from the moment she lays eyes on her.
That short blonde hair with flowers wrapped in her braids… those soft blue eyes with a gaze so sad and distant… the pink dress wrapped around her thin waist… and having the gall to place above her in the academy exams!? Who does this peasant think she is?
No matter… Katarina will remind her of her place.
One way or another, she will show her who is really in charge here.