chapter one

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Despite being the princess of a rather large kingdom, you were the last to know - in the royal family, at least - that you were promised to the commander of the First Order. Your planet of Amaar was loyal to the Sith, and had been since the rise of Emperor Palpatine. If you were honest with yourself, you weren't surprised to be promised to someone of such high regard. It was expected of you. Every move made in your planet was a strategic one - one that would help the planet itself and the Sith.

The biggest downside of your arrangement came from the lack of knowledge about your soon-to-be husband. From the moment you met him, he had only ever hid behind the black mask and underneath the ebony hood. It frightened you to think of what was inside of that attire. You knew only his name, his rank, and his age - something you'd worked hard to find out. You wished you had a chance to know what color his hair was, what shade his eyes were, and if he had freckles. So after a few weeks of exchanging few words with Kylo Ren, you grew comfortable enough to share with him what you wanted most.

It was after a meeting. As General Hux exited the large room inside of the palace you called home, you stood from your seat. Kylo was exchanging a few words with your father. As they departed, you approached them.

"Commander," you said respectfully. "May I speak with you, please?"

He offered final parting words to your father, who smiled at you as he left. Kylo turned towards you. "Princess," he greeted. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you answered. "I just wanted to speak with you."

He didn't reply. Your lips twitched into an amused smile. You raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly.

"Does that surprise you, Commander?"

"Yes," he answered. "It was my assumption that you despised me, Princess."

"You have assumed wrong, Commander," you said, concern laced in your voice.

"That bothers you," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Indeed," you said. "Here we are, only weeks from our marriage, and you think that I hate you. For what reason? Do I give you that impression? If what I've heard is true, surely you can read my thoughts through the Force, Commander."

"I could," he admitted, "although I would rather not."

"And why not?" you asked. 

 "It can be painful at times."

"Oh." You blinked.

"I meant no disrespect, Princess," he said. "It was just an assumption of mine that you didn't wish to wed me."

"You've assumed wrong, once again," you remarked, holding your chin up high.

As you began to walk away, Kylo came to your side. He stood several inches away from you, as he had not allowed himself to touch you yet. Your fingers hadn't so much as brushed his arm before.

"Forgive me," he said.

"You're forgiven," you replied with a smirk.

"You're amused," he remarked.

"I had no idea I had such a hold on my fiance," you explained. "Especially one that had no desire to attempt to get to know me."

"You're assuming wrong," he stated. You paused and glanced up at the black surface of his helmet. "I have every intention to get to know you. However, your consent is my highest concern. It is my duty to make this arrangement as formal and political as I can. For both my Order and your planet."

You smiled.

"That pleases you?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I admire that you care so much for my planet," you said.

"Well, it will soon be mine, as well, Princess," he said.

"Fair enough," you said, turning towards him. "You want to please me, Commander? Show me your face."

"Princess, I-"

You raised your eyebrows. "More or less, you said that it was your job to put my needs first, Kylo. And I need to see what the future father of my children looks like."

"Do not be unprofessional, Princess," he hissed.

"Unprofessional?" you scoffed. "Tell me, Commander, if the roles were reversed, and you had not yet seen my face, and yet I was deprived of any face coverage, would that bother you?"

"Yes," he answered,

"You understand my predicament, then," you said.

He fell silent. You sighed and folded your hands together.

"Commander," you said, "I know not what you look like, but I do know that no matter what, I have to marry you. If you're worried that I will be disgusted by your face, please do not. I do not know you well, but I know you enough to respect you."

"You will change your mind," he replied.

"Try me," you challenged.

Your heart lept out of your chest as you impatiently watched Kylo push the hood of his cloak down. His gloved fingers moved to the back of the underneath of his helmet.

"Forgive me, Princess, but for such a small girl, you're quite confident with your words," he said. You could hear a sense of amusement in his robotic voice. He reached up to unlatch his helmet.

You smiled. "And for such a highly respected Commander, you sure obey the orders of a mere princess without hesitation, as if you're captivated by me. As if I have a hold on you."

"You could say that," he said.

There was a slight hissing noise as he pulled the mask over his head. You swallowed hard as a wave of black curls fell around his neck and on top of his shoulders. When his face was uncovered, you fell silent.

His pale, ivory skin was decorated with dark, large freckles and, most prominently, a long, gaping scar that ran across the right side of his face. It swooped under his eye and ran down the length of his cheek, ending at the middle of his jawline. His dark brown eyes failed to look at you as he tightened his full lips into a line and cleared his throat.

"I hope you find what you see as more than satisfactory," he said dryly.

"Commander," you said. "Stop."

You hesitantly reached for him. It was the first time you had ever allowed yourself to even attempt at physical contact. Kylo shut his eyes as your hand gripped his upper arm. You curled your fingers around the fabric of his sleeve. It was just to test the waters. He didn't attempt to push you away. As your right hand gripped his arm tightly, your left hand moved towards his face.

For the first time, your skin made contact with his skin. His cheek was warm against your fingers. Gently, your palm cupped the side of his face. You allowed your thumb to gently stroke the length of the scar. Kylo's lips trembled.

"Does it hurt?" you asked in concern, pulling back. You were afraid you'd crossed the line; you'd harmed him.

"No," he breathed, catching your hand in his.

He guided your palm back to his face. You smiled and cupped his cheek again. He instinctively put his hands on your waist. As seconds went by, he grew more comfortable with holding you. His palms rested on either side of your waist. His long fingers sometimes moved to stroke the expensive, floral fabric of your navy gown.

In the midst of your moment, you realized, with a sudden jolt of your heart, that you could love this man.   

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