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chapter fifteen, only one.
THIS PARTICULAR DAY WAS GOING TO BE ROUGH FOR BOTH AARON AND FRANCESCA; Aaron had to go to a neighboring kingdom for some godforsaken reason of an alliance. So, Francesca decided to stick to their spots: the royal garden and Aaron's personal library. Even his parents didn't have access to the room, but Francesca was special enough to have her very own key. The key was a rusty gold color, it looked elegant. It had millions of flowers on the handle, of course fake and the same rusty gold color. Similar to Aaron's, who had a A.T. on it, Francesca's key had a F. T. He must have forgotten to take the T out of the mold, she thought.
After a few days, Francesca grew tired of being cooped up in the library. All of the other girls went to see their family and friends, but under permission of Aaron and the Queen, Francesca was allowed to stay at the castle.
It became clear to the young girl that she had never really seen most of the castle, so, she took it upon herself to explore. The castle was beautifully built, elegant statues and colors surrounding the walls. Normally, you would think a castle wouldn't feel so cozy, but this one did. Instead of photos of old white men who founded France, there were photos of family, flowers, and all thing beautiful along the walls. A large candid portrait of Aaron stood tall at the end of a hallway, it was clearly a photo taken that was turned into a painting. It was beautiful.
Aaron wasn't looking at the camera, his eyes were looking past it. There was a bright smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes, his cheeks held a soft flush: he was blushing. It was unclear at what he was looking at in the photo but he almost looked as if he was in love. Around him were dandelions, he was in a dandelion and flower field.
"You're wondering what he's looking at, aren't you?" A voice rang through the hall, behind Francesca was Queen Victoria, Aaron's mother. Francesca smiled at the woman, her eyes only tearing away from the portrait for a second before returning.
"Yes, my Queen, I am."
"Oh please, call me Victoria," the older woman smiled, patting the girls shoulder.
"What could he possibly be looking at? He looks so in love."
"I believe, lady Francesca, he was looking at you." At that, Francesca looked at the Queen. Her eyes were widened and her cheeks were flushed, she tried to talk but she couldn't. All that came out of her mouth was stammers and stutter. "Walk with me, my dear," Victoria smiled, offering her arm to the blushing girl. Francesca took it willingly, wonder filling her mind. As the two walked away from the portrait Francesca kept turning around to see it. He couldn't have been looking at her, right?
The two walked in silence, well, until they got to the gardens. It was tense for Francesca, what did the Queen want with her? Was she going to be kicked out? What was happening?
"My son seems to be quite taken with you, Lady Francesca." Victoria broke the silence, smiling sweetly at the younger girl. Francesca blushed, although she was unaware of it.
"We have become very good friends during my stay, Victoria." Francesca justified, although her excuse wasn't going to fool the wise Queen.
"Well, if I am being honest, you are the only one I would trust to be on my throne. You're the only girl here I can stand, let alone picture sitting high and mighty with a crown upon your head. You're the only one I can picture with my son, too." Victoria admits, smiling down at the girl. As Francesca stammered to find an answer the two arrived in the throne room.
Victoria led Francesca to the thrones, both the King and Queens thrones held their crowns on the cushions. Victoria let go of Francesca, walking up the few steps she needed to go get to the thrones. The Queen delicately picked up her crown, holding it in her hands. She gave it to a near by servent to hold.
"Come here, dear," Victoria beckoned, reaching to grab Francesca's hand. The younger girl hesitated to walk forward, but she did it anyway, stopping in front of the throne. She was confused as to what the Queen wanted her to do.
"Well, don't just stand there! Give it a whirl!"
"Excuse me?"
"Sit on the throne, dear," Queen Victoria explained, pushing the girl closer to the large chair. Francesca nervously looked to Victoria, but the older woman only nodded her head in reassurance. Hesitantly, Francesca turned around and lowered herself onto the throne. Her movements were gentle, precise. It was almost as if she was scared of the chair; she was scared of the chair.
Victoria smiled and turned around, grabbing the crown from the servent. The Queen walked forward, placing the crown delicately atop the brunettes head. Francesca tensed up, scared to break the valuable crown that sat perfectly on her hair.
"Relax, dearest. Wear the crown, don't let the crown wear you." Victoria tutted, walking down the steps and turning around to see Francesca.
What she saw was quite the vision, it was almost too perfect. Victoria thought she would be scared, scared to give up the crown and title and power. But she wasn't, not if the future of France was in Francesca's hands. She would gladly hand over every royal jewel she had to the girl, if it meant she could see just another perfect sight like that.
Only one more thing could make this moment the moment to Victoria: Aaron in the throne next to her, his father's crown atop his brown hair.
Speaking of Aaron, in the neighboring kingdom Aaron lay restless. He couldn't get any amount of peace since he had not seen his favorite person at all: Francesca Heart. She was his favorite person to see, to talk to and to be around.
Regret filled his heart when the thought of him pushing her away arose. He knew that once he had a wife, his queen, he would not be able to speak to Francesca. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt, and god it hurt. He never wanted to live in a world that Francesca was not apart of, he could only hope she felt the same.
