i'd marry her, i told her | wilbur soot - royalty!au

10 and 11 (I)

The story of how Sally met the Princes was not particularly exciting, no. But the way in which this meeting changed the course of her entire life-- now, that was a story worth telling.

Young Princes Wilbur and Tommy had only just had a hearty breakfast of bacon and oatmeal when they walked out into the garden-- a habit they had formed as soon as they could walk. They were always together, joint at the hip. It was a well known fact that they never parted, that if one was up to some mischief, so was the other. Tommy, younger by two years, always looked up to his brother, even when both were adults, whether the bull-headed boy admitted it or not. 'Wilby,' Tommy called him, a name both would outgrow as they reached their teenage years, with the blonde going red if he ever slipped up and accidentally called his brother the horrid (in Tommy's opinion) pet name.

The two children stroll out to the fragrant, sunny ground when they stumble upon another child. She's sprawled out on the green grass under the blossom tree, which is to bloom soon, her father had told her. The tree will be filled with pretty pink flowers that she might be able to catch as they fell. For the time being, though, the tree is empty.

At hearing their footsteps, her head shoots up.

"Hello," she grins at the two boys. They seem to be her age, and they look non-threatening enough. Potential friends.

"Who are you?" the golden haired one asks, not exactly friendly.

"I'm Sally," she says, sitting up and crossing her legs. "What're your names?"

"I'm Wilbur. This is Tom," the taller one says, his chest puffed out proudly, trying to seem 'regal' and 'kingly,' as his mother often tells him he should be, and she'd point to their father for reference.

"Like- like Princes Wilbur and Tom?" she asks, eyes widening.

"Yes," Wilbur replies shortly.

"Woah," she stares at them in awe.

"Aren't you going to curtsy?" Tommy asks, not quite offended but more confused. People always bowed or curtsied when they first met them, especially the ones in plain clothing like Sally's.

"Oh," she clumsily stands up and awkwardly bows her head at them. "Your majesty...s," she tacks on at the end, giggling as she stands up straight.

The brothers eye Sally weirdly, trying to figure out why she was acting so differently to most other people they'd met. Other people that wouldn't dare look them in the eye, that would refer to them as 'Prince' or 'You Highness' or 'Your Majesty' or-

Well, you get the point.

"Why are you here?" the blonde asks, not exactly friendly. "This is our garden." The taller boy elbows him, as if telling him not to be rude, but he allows the question to linger.

"My dad's the gardener here, he brought me," she replies, still smiling as she sits up and crosses her legs. "How old are you?"

"I'm nine years old. But Wilby's eleven," he says, jutting his chin out, smirking with pride as if to say, I bet that's older than you. "What about you?"

"I'm ten," she says, eyeing the older boy. Wilby. "Wanna be friends?" she extends a hand towards the pair.

The brothers exchange a look and come to a silent agreement. Wilbur is the one to take Sally's hand as her face breaks into another wide grin. "Sure."

And they did become friends, the three. The inseparable duo now had a third addition, Sally was the Princes' commoner friend, although they didn't treat her as such. They always saw her as an equal, a friend. The bond between them was closely knit and Sally doubted anything could break it.

They'd spend hours in the garden, playing and fighting and talking up until Sally's father was ready to leave or one of the princes' nannies called them inside for lessons or a meal. If that happened, they wouldn't bother to say their goodbyes, knowing that they'd see each other the next day no matter what.