Boy Of The Ball ~ A Ryden AU

Ryan (2)

I stare out at the ballroom, my lip caught between my teeth as I think. I should be working, serving guests food, but instead, I am huddled in a corner, hoping that no one finds me.

He's betrothed. Or will be, very shortly.

The only man I ever loved. No, the only person I've ever loved.

For gender does not matter, and love is not a choice. 

Of course, no one cares what I think. Why would they? I don't matter.

I blink, thinking back to our first encounter. 

"Oh, hello!" A voice called, and I turned, gasping as I saw the prince.

Tall, with rippling muscles and full lips. Straight white teeth and large brown eyes, complete with a cap of brown hair. Handsome. 

"Y-your highness!" I spluttered, immediately kneeling. 

"Sir, rise. You are quite alright. And call me Brendon, if you please."

My eyes widened. "I could not. You are.. royalty. You are above me."

His eyes darkened. "No. I am not. What is your name, sir?"

"I'm not any sort of nobility. You should not address me as sir. But my name is Ross. George Ryan Ross, The Third."

"What is your job? In the palace, I mean. A gardener? You are outside, after all." He said, chuckling lightly.

I took a deep breath. "No. A servant. I was merely taking a break... Brendon. I should be going, actually." I took a step forward, but he grabbed my arm and held it, his grip as strong and binding as stone.

"George. Would you, perhaps, be interested in meeting me later? In the princes suite? I shall assume you know where it is." 

I stared at him for a moment. "May I ask why?" I said simply, and a rough smile curled onto his lips.

All of the sudden, he was touching my face, his soft lips brushing mine. His skin smelled like pine needles, and something else, something strong and musky I couldn't identify, but.. I liked it. His hands traveled all over my back, and his head tilted against mine. A warm feeling bloomed in my chest, and despite the fact that anyone could have caught us, I whimpered desperately  and pushed myself against him.

After a moment, he pulled away, his soft hair messy. "That is why." He said. "Meet me at seven o clock." 

With that, he was gone.

The announcers voice snaps me back into reality, out of the lovely memory.

"Announcing the house of Urie... King Rowan, his wife, Queen Odette, and their sole son and heir... Prince Brendon Urie."

My lips part as the king and queen step down the stairs, followed by him.

He is, of course, a vision of loveliness, his hair combed back, his back straight, his formalwear perfectly pressed. I would expect nothing less of a prince.

His eyes are trained straight ahead, and I am about to walk off when the head maid finds me, shoving a tray of food into my hands, ordering me to make my rounds. 

The ball begins, and I see her approach Brendon.

Gwendolyn Cole. 

She is pretty, I suppose, but I have met her, and the overall pleasantness of her face does not match her attitude. 

However, she has every right to approach Brendon. They will soon be engaged.

I am sorry, I meant to say the prince. Considering he means nothing to me, I should, after all, address him formally.

She says a few words to him, however, his eyes are sweeping the room. Searching for what, I do not know. 

A few guests take food off my tray, murmuring 'thank you' or 'I shall take one, if you please', before walking off. 

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I spin.

There he stands.

Brendon Urie. Future King, Future Husband.

His honey-brown eyes take me in for a second, his pupils growing large.

"Ry. We need to have a discussion."