there is only us | wilbur soot x reader

Chapter 8 - Queen

(Y/n) POV

It had begun to rain, a steady drizzle at first.

But as the minutes trudged by and I counted the seconds in my head, the droplets fell heavier and heavier, until I was soaked to the bone for the second time that week. Oh, what rumors this would conjure up, two nights of sneaking out and a screaming match with my brother.

If a mark on my cheek sent low whispers twirling about in my own home, I couldn't imagine what would arise at the discovery that I was in a temporary... alliance with L'manberg.

I don't know if an alliance is the best way to describe it, because their president does not seem very fond of the idea of us working together. I have no doubt he would deny the accusation instantly, instead insisting that he had no say in the events that unfolded this fine evening at about 10 pm.

Tommy, on the other hand, seemed more than welcoming.

And I still had yet to meet the infamous Tubbo they had spoken of. I hoped I would be invited back to be introduced to the rest of their population.

If Wilbur didn't kill me on sight.

I sighed, dragging my skirts through the mud and regretting my wardrobe choice. Why did my only black dress have to be as billowy as a wedding gown? I burst my way through the last stretch of trees and shrubs, breaking out into the open air that welcomed me home.

The rest of the walk home was a blur, and I silently admired the serenity of the villages at night while also praying no one was up at such an ungodly hour. The palace servants had already gone about daydreaming of my rebellious adventures, and the last thing I needed was public suspicion as well.

At the moment, all I needed was a fresh nightgown and a mug of hot chocolate. And perhaps a book. Or maybe a nap. And definitely a shower.

I arrived at the palace gates, nodding to the guards on patrol and continuing on before they could look closely enough to spike curiosity. I slipped past the large, towering oak doors, silently making my way up the stairs and past the maids' chambers. I helped myself to a bath, feeling relieved and exhausted as I managed to wipe my conscience clean of sympathy for the small country with the rag that was Tommy's forgiveness.

Okay, that metaphor was a bit of a stretch. These English tutors are really getting to me.

Who knows, maybe one day I'll write a book.

I slipped into a silk undershirt that fell halfway down my thighs, with a pair of cotton shorts peeking out from just under the hem. It was not the most ladylike thing for one to wear, but I was beyond the point of caring.

I glanced longingly to my bed, wishing to crawl under the sheets and wake up to find this was all a dream. That there was no Tommy, no L'manberg, no war, no promises. But it was too real to be fake.

I pinched my arm.

Just to be sure.

I swore under my breath, cursing both my nails and my stupidity. If Sapnap were here, he would have mocked me relentlessly, sarcastically proclaiming my brilliance. I looked to the leather armchair he had claimed as his own, my ever-present nostalgia longing for the easy days, when we were not too busy with ruling to spend time as friends.

Not just Sapnap, of course. George was an enjoyable presence as well, with his tired remarks and steadfast determination to act as if he were above us and all our antics. I missed them both.

But mostly, I missed my brother.

We followed each other everywhere, simultaneously supporting and relying on the other sibling. Clay never excluded me from anything, going so far as to sneak into my rooms at night and entertain me with stories of his lessons until I fell asleep.