The Silk Queen

The boy she hated.

Carlos' POV

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Lavinia Rae Irvine. 

She has  been the person I hated most since birth. Her parents betrayed mine and ruined the peace between our countries. They gained my parents trust, and sold us out to the Italians. 

I hate her for many reasons. She became a queen at 14 while I'm stuck as prince until my father dies. She was the one person I can't get to, no matter the insult all she does is smile and curtsy in response. I hate the way she curtsy's, its so large. If that makes sense, it draws unnecessary attention to her, and I know that nobody loves attention more then Lavinia Rae Irvine. 

I hated her and she hates me. I was forced to hate her for years until out of respect, as royals, my family went to France for her coronation. That's when I first met her.  

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Royal families from all around Europe were there, accompanied by loyal nobles. Chatter filled the room accompanied by the sound of the violin playing. I was speaking to the princess of Italy when she was announced. 

"Her majesty, Lavinia Irvine, Queen of France!" Said a loud voice from above us, everyone stop talking and looked to the doorway, She walked out in a light blue and yellow gown. I went to the floor and a small bit dragged behind her. There was lace on the neck, and the torso was made of velvet. The sleeves had an opening for her to hold things but then dropped to the floor, it was made of a lacy blue fabric. The skirt had many little decorations and patterns of white and yellow lace. 

Her hair was curled and in a French braid

She walked down with her younger sister. She walked with such grace yet radiated such annoying energy. I watched as she kneeled down, said the oath and turned around with her Diamond crown. 

I only met her during the after coronation ball. I was watching from the corner with my parents, drinking a glass of water. She finished dancing with the prince of Italy, and she came over. As much as I could tell she hated it too, it was expected. 

"Hello your grace," she said as she curtsy' d with a smile. She looked at my mother and father, her expression sweet and welcoming.

"Hello Lavinia, Congratulations on becoming Queen of France," My mother said, giving Lavinia a small head tilt as a sort of bow. 

"I hope my reign will bring good things to both my and your countries," She said, still smiling. She then turned only her head to face me, "And such a pleasure to meet you, your majesty."

She curtsied again and smiled at me. I smiled back. My parents left us to introduce ourselves. 

"You're surprisingly good at acting Irvine." I said, taking a sip of my water.

"My parents died, they are no more. Let what they did go," She said, her expression changed from sweet and welcoming to angry and harsh. 

She started to walk out of the ballroom and I followed. "Of course, I mean how could I blame you for your parents causing the death of my people?" I questioned sarcastically. 

 She kept walking, her heels clicking on the stone floor. 

"Lavinia. Stop running from me. You're running like your parents did from mine!" I yelled, she stopped dead in her tracks. 

I walked behind her and stood still, guilt started to fill my thoughts. 

"My parents are dead, and on the night I'm supposed to feel happiest, your worthless self just has to come here and remind me that they were horrible people. do you not understand that I know my parents were bad people?!" She yelled. 

I just stood there. Hearing nothing but the sound of my heartbeat, but then she turned around to the sound of her sister calling her name.

"Lavinia! Lavinia! Where are you?" Amaris' voice said echoing through the hall.

Lavinia turned around, her expression completely changed. Her eyes were soft and she had a slight smile. Amaris walked up and took Lavinia's hand, but before she left she whispered into my ear. 

"I can see the bruise on your neck." 

She smiled, and walked away. I knew right then and there that I actually hated her. every move she made, every word, every touch, I hated it. 

~

I went back into the gold encrusted ballroom and met with my parents.

"Where have you been Carlos?" My father asked.

"Telling Irvine exactly how I feel about her parents," I replied, not moving my eyes from Lavinia, who had now started dancing with her sister and her best friend. 

"You, What?" He asked, looking in my direction with horror on his face. 

"told her I know she's faking that smile, and that I will always hate her for what her parents did."

"you angered the new, naïve, angry, Queen of France?" My mother asked, nervous laughing.

I didn't reply. Instead I watched Lavinia dance with her best friend, her dress flying in the air. She almost looked innocent. 

My mind couldn't think of anything but the pure anger in her voice as she spoke to me, I started thinking about it. Her annoying overly fancy name echoed in my ears for the next hour as I sat silently watching her.

Lavinia Rae Irvine

Lavinia Rae Irvine

Lavinia Rae Irvine 

Lavinia's POV

Carlos Menci. I have hated him since birth, my parents betrayed his, but little do they know it is because the Italian threatened my older sister's life. They hated themselves for it every day. I hated Carlos out of spite until I finally met him at my coronation. I hated everything about him. I hated the way he spoke. The way he looked at me, I hated the way that he was so lucky, he didn't grow up as I did. 

He grew up with a family. I grew up with servants and an older sister who my mother hated. She was my half sister, the result of my father's mistress. He was so lucky and he didn't even know it. 

I grew up rich, and alone. I had nothing but my mind to fantasize. That allowed me one good thing. I was good at faking and hiding emotions. I spoke with my eyes. He spoke with his big, annoying, oversharing mouth. I didn't blame him for hating me, but I sure as hell hated him. 

I went to the celebration of the 9th birthday of his little brother. England was extra like that. I was only 9 but I acted 18. That was something I had often been told, I acted older then I was.  I was sitting with my parents, before they betrayed England, and I overheard him. He spoke with such innocence yet I hated it. It was so annoying. His eyes, such an annoying shade of azure. I hated it. 

But I knew I hated him even more the second he told me exactly how he felt about my parents. The bitch didn't even care that they had just died, no. He didn't feel bad, no condolences. Just pure anger. It was awful how honest he was. Anyone could tell he was never yelled at as a child. 

Carlos Cam Menci, the boy I hated.