Got7 Scenarios (Kpop-Muses)

Not Your Highness (1/5) - Mark

Summary: Mark is a prince, and Y/N is his new princess-in-law's maid. He's cute and she's clumsy.

Genre: Fluff

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"How lovely this is, our new family finally together to enjoy a meal without 200 other guests to take up our time."

Mark smiled towards his father and lifted his glass, following his older brother's lead.

"To the new princess," His brother announced, kissing his wife of only a few days on the cheek before turning to Mark, "And to any future princess there may be."

Mark blushed, clinking glasses with those around him. Servants were rushing around the table serving portions of expertly cooked dishes. Although he had traveled all around the kingdom and eaten delicacies prepared by the finest chefs their realm had to offer, Mark firmly believed the best meal was cooked by the Tuan castle kitchen.

He ate quietly and listened as his mother gushed one more about the wedding. Every corridor in the castle was lined with pristine white roses, left over from the ceremony. It had been a beautiful event, and beneath the excitement of a new princess for the soon-to-be-king, Mark was looking forward to having a sister-in-law whom he considered a friend.

Dinner went on and when he had finished and was excused from the table while the others remained to converse, Mark set off down a long hallway for his sleeping quarters.

He was too busy admiring the intricate rug he'd stepped over a million times before to realize that someone seemed to have magically appeared in front of him. Mark stumbled, running into them completely.

When he had recovered from the incident, the prince looked down to see the girl, who had fallen to the ground, clutching a silk gown in her hands.

"I-I'm so sorry-" Mark rushed, extending a gentle hand.

"Oh no, it's my fault your highness," You said, shyly accepting his gesture as he helped you stand, and curtsying as soon as you had regained your balance, "I should have been watching where I was going."

"Really, don't worry about it. I was too far in my imagination to pay attention."

"Thank you, your highness," You curtsied again, unsure of the proper etiquette for the situation. It wasn't everyday you ran full speed into a handsome prince.

"You don't have to call me that," He said with the corner of his mouth twitching up into a grin as you stood, blushing.

"Um, I-I'm sorry..."

An awkward silence followed in which Prince Mark admired the warm glow of your eyes, the soft rosy color decorating your face, how your hands looked much softer than those of a maid's. He then noticed the dress you still had in those hands was a familiar one, one he had seen the new princess wear on occasion.

"Are you one of the princess' maids?" He asked suddenly. It struck him how strange it was for him to making conversation, when he was usually a very reserved and quiet person. He supposed he had always felt more comfortable talking with the servants than other royalty, although something about your presence made him relax his muscles and breathe deeply after a long day of bustling around the castle and handling his albeit simple duties as a prince.

"Yes, I am her lady's maid."

"Well, I do hope you're enjoying our home. Although, I suppose it is now yours as well."

"Your family's castle is quite lovely," You replied quietly.

Another servant passing pulled Mark out of the trance he had somehow unknowingly entered while standing in front of you.

"I won't hold you up any longer. I hope I haven't made you late."

"No, um-Sir, it's fine."

"I'm sorry again, for running into you," He began to walk past you towards his room before he turned and added, "Oh, and Prince Mark is just fine."

Mark continued down the hall with an inward grin, stopping himself from looking over his shoulder to catch one last glimpse of your sweet smile.

You huffed out a sigh and began towards the the servant's quarters to mend your Lady's dress, swearing internally that you had never blushed more in your whole goddamn life than in those few moments with Prince Mark.

Something about him struck you in an unfamiliar way. Whether it was his lemony blonde hair or the way his dark yet inviting eyes drew you in and made you forget what you were trying to say, you couldn't tell. A small piece of you hoped to see him again soon, even in passing, while the rest of your brain said that you needed to focus on your work and find some more lavender thread.

That night as Mark and Y/N fell asleep on distant sides of the castle, him in his welcoming four-poster bed, her on a small cot in her shared room, they had one thing in common. Thoughts of the other were on their mind as they drifted into a peaceful sleep.