Princess -- A Bughead AU story

Chapter one

Elizabeth's Point Of View

I sneak down the stairs, the velvet hood of my cloak veiling my all too recognisable face. If my father learnt of my regular trips to the dungeons, he would most likely send me away before he could do something irrational. My belief is that no matter who they are and what they have done, every person must be treated fairly. At the current moment, there is only one prisoner occupying the dungeons. I have not met him before, however my father was rather proud to have caught him. I tread carefully over the flagstone ground so as not to make a noise. Right at the end in the far cell is a boy about the age of sixteen, the same as I. My eyes follow the floor up to his cell bars. "And what may you have done to aggravate the great, almighty King Harold?" I whisper. A faint shuffling, then a voice, "I kissed his daughter, the fair Princess Elizabeth." I hold back a gasp, "How so?" The boy pauses, as if expecting me to answer my own question. "You tell me, Princess." He eventually says. I clench my fists. How can he possibly know who I am? "Why are you really here? And who are you?" I interrogate him. "Well, I'm rather offended. Surely you would know the son of the 'great, almighty King Forsythe'?" He mocks me. "But of course, you have yet to meet my eyes." I bring myself to observe the stranger in annoyance. A swathe of wavy black hair decorates his forehead, and his eyes are a hypnotic blue.  He is irritatingly handsome. I also notice that the look on his face is entirely playful. He is just joking around. I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. However, King Forsythe? This cannot be good news. King Forsythe is my father's greatest rival. Our kingdoms are in constant battle. "You cannot be here." The boy states, a more serious look in his eyes. I pass him the apple I had been concealing in my hand. "Do not speak a word of this." I order as he sinks his teeth into the skin of the apple. He nods, gesturing at the stairs, "You must go now, before they catch you."

Forsythe's Point Of View

What a beautiful maiden, yet so untouchable. My father has heard news that King Harold plans for her to be wed to Prince Archibald of Cywnbergh. In the few moments I had conversed with her, it became clear to me that she has a heart of gold. This cell may contain me for as long as it wishes if it means that I shall have the honour of meeting her in secret regularly. They provide me with meagre food supplies and there is no place of rest but the floor. Although somehow, I do not care. There is only one thought going through my head. When I initially left my fathers kingdom some months ago, claiming that I was traveling to new lands, the truth was I was going to Gywntowth to find out what it was really like. I got a job delivering letters. The royal parade a few weeks ago was the first time I saw her. That was when I knew there was no hope for me. When I saw her come down those stairs, I knew it was her straight away. No man would visit the dungeons in a white cape. Footsteps approach. I stand up. A guard marches over the stone flooring. He pulls my chest towards him, causing me to be thrown into the bars. "King Harold shall be rather pleased to dispose of you, boy." He chuckles harshly. I swallow nervously. Dispose of? Almost certainly in the most painful way possible. The man unlocks my cell door, "The time to meet with his majesty fast approaches."

Elizabeth's Point Of View

"Elizabeth!" My father calls. I brush the tangles out of my long blonde hair, then French plaiting it around the back to the side. He calls again. I get up from my dressing table, meeting my father who is waiting outside my door. "Yes, father." I purse my lips. He grabs the trumpet sleeve of my cream and gold dress. "We are going to watch a public hanging." He barks. I try to break free of his grip. "Father, I do not wish to attend such an event!" I shout. He whips around, "Do not ever address me in such a manner ever again! This is an important hanging. I will have you go." My father yells. I flinch as he continues to drag me to the kingdom's centre, which has the stocks taking up a vast amount of it. Mother awaits us, sitting on her throne in front of the stocks. Father forces me to sit down also, then sinking into his own throne. I see the guards lead a young man to the dangling rope. He turns around to face me. I gasp in shock. It's the man I met in the dungeons. The guard puts the rope around his neck, then grasps the lever. Before I can stop, I find myself saying, "Father, you cannot do this!!!" The entirety of the kingdom stares at me in confusion. "Why ever not?" He frowns. I hold my breath. "Well it is surely a tactical flaw. Would it not be better to keep the boy until King Forsythe calls a truce to get him back?" I rush.
My father nods slowly, "The girl has a point. As much as I despise his clan, a truce would greatly benefit the kingdom." I breathe a sigh of relief. It is still unknown to me as to why I could not watch him die. Father calls off the hanging, ordering the son of his enemy to be sent back to the dungeons. I make a promise to myself to visit the boy later. First though, my father has requested to speak to me. I walk the halls to his throne room, where I am to meet him. I have been informed it is a very serious matter concerning my future. I push the doors open. My father stands in the middle of the room, holding my mother's hand. "Elizabeth." My father says calmly. "I have chosen your suitor." My head snaps up from the floor. "Suitor? Father, we have discussed this." I bite my lip. "Yes, girl. And I have told you that women should be seen and not heard! You have no authority!!" He roars. I step back. My mother shivers as if she is terrified of what her husband may do. "His name is Prince Archibald. It has been arranged for you to go hunting with him after you leave this room." He explains sternly. I suppress tears. Arranged Marriage. It is what I would like least in life. I burst out the doors, rushing to the stables. As much as I do not want to hunt with this Prince Archibald, but riding is one of the things that calms me. My black stallion, Gardenia, is tied up to a post of the stable, a man standing next to her. I flinch at the sight of him stroking her. No one touches my horse. "You would do best to leave my horse alone." I grit my teeth. The man instantly retracts his hand. "Princess Elizabeth?" He widens his eyes. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "That is I." I nod. He mounts his own horse, waiting for me to do the same. Reluctantly, I give in, "Alright, but only because I wish to ride."