A Love Triangle Most Foul - Phan Fiction [AU] (SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter 1: Suits and Suitors

He glides into the room with all the elegance of a swan. As I sit in the throne next to my mother's and father's, I can see him staring at me, even though he is approaching my parents. As he reaches the thrones, he bows before us.

'Your Majesties, Your Royal Highness. I am Daniel Howell, Duke of Cardiff. I do believe my presence was requested?' He greets us with all the air of a pure-blooded nobleman.

'Yes,' my father greets him heartily. 'We are currently looking for suitors for our darling daughter here. She has just come of age, and we won't be wasting any time.'

Yes, that daughter he's referring to is me. Now that I am nineteen, I am officially of age to be wed off to whoever the hell my father chooses. If you couldn't tell, I think that idea is a load of bull shite. I don't care if this Mr. Howard, or whatever-his-name-is is young (and cute), it doesn't make the idea of human trade any less wrong.

He laughs softly with my father, but I can quickly tell it is a false laugh. Forget about a penny, I would give a mountain of gold for his thoughts at that moment.

I stand up dutifully, and raise my hand for him. Unbeknownst to him, I had been practicing for this moment ever since I knew how to raise my hand voluntarily. He gently takes it and pecks my white satin glove with his soft, pink lips - oh my, he was definitely cute.

'How do you do? Princess Catalina Lansbury,' I introduce myself politely in a professional, but cold voice. I could see my mother in my peripheral vision going red in the face over my unsmiling one, but I couldn't care less. I was not going to fall for anyone's charms.

'Very well, thank you, Your Royal Highness. Duke Daniel Howell of Cardiff.' His voice was the opposite of mine; warm, friendly and sweet - like one of Henrietta's honey cakes, fresh from the oven.

'I do believe you will be staying here until the ball, is that correct?' my mother asks him.

'Yes, I will, Your Majesty,' he replies courteously.

The ball, where I am basically being put on display for the rest of my suitors, is being held next week. The royal staff have been rushing around rather hectically lately. It is to be the ball of the century, my father demands, and nothing less.

'Well, in that case then, where are your things? I will get my servants to take your personal belongings to your room right away!' my mother shrills.

'Oh, that won't be necessary, Your Majesty,' Duke Howell interjects. 'I have my own manservant who I bring everywhere with me. Phillip!' He shouts into the distance.

A man, not too dissimilar-looking to Mr. Howell, in general appearance and dress, came through the doors to face his master. 'Yes, sir?'

Mr. Howell came a bit closer to him and gave him a small hug around the waist. 'Ah, you are here. Good. Do you have all of my things?'

'The coach just arrived now, master,' he replied. 'I have one of the staff accompanying me to the appropriate living quarters.'

Mr. Howell nodded. 'Good. Thank you Phillip.'

'You're welcome, master,' he replied as he walked out the door, tipping his hat.

After we were sure Phillip was out of earshot, my mother spoke. 'He is rather well dressed for a manservant, no?'

Mr. Howell gave my mother a genuine smile. 'Well, they say you are the company you keep. I make sure all of my staff are presentable and taken care of at all times.'

Both my mother and father nodded. They seemed rather impressed at this idea, even though I had suggested the very same thing to them many times.

I could see the words unspoken, kept behind his lips; besides, Phillip and I are very close, we are almost like brothers. We both knew saying that would not be very smart in front of my parents. Associating oneself too closely with ones servants is not good form.