let me be your ruler

by Anonymous

Chapter 10

Notes:

Enjoy this last chapter!

         They hid it for a few weeks while they planned an engagement party for themselves, only inviting friends, family, and a few officials that it would’ve been rude not to invite. They both knew the wedding would end up being a large, public affair, but this party was just for themselves, to revel in the excitement of their new engagement, with those that they were closest to. It was harder than they thought to keep it a secret, having to trust the palace staff wouldn’t let it leak, as well as all of the party planners and various people they hired to help make it perfect. They couldn’t say that they were planning for an engagement party, but they also knew that ordering ten thousand blush pink roses wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, nor were the beautiful invitations announcing their engagement, which were printed and sent out to the few dozen people on the guest list. 

         They were both too happy to care about people’s speculations though, knowing that unless they confirmed it, no one would believe they weren’t engaged if the rumour started circling, because the media always ran with the version they preferred, which was rarely the whole truth. They would deal with that when they got to it, which hopefully wouldn’t be for a few more weeks, because they were enjoying the peacefulness and seclusion offered to them by everyone else’s ignorance. Jhoanna and Mikha had been keeping a low profile for the past few weeks, and besides a few required official visits for them both, neither of them had left the palace walls since returning after their jailbreak. It would’ve been suffocating if it wasn’t for the relief of the vast gardens, offering them some sense of freedom as they took strolls through the winding paths, enjoying the weather as it grew warmer.

         The day of the party was pleasantly warm, and perfect for a garden party, with the lush green lawn properly trimmed, the blue sky hindered by only a few puffy clouds, which looked far from raining on them, and bees and butterflies lazily trailing from flower to flower in the gardens as the palace staff set up marquees and tables outdoors. Garden parties weren’t uncommon for palace events, which would make the whole thing less suspicious to the crowd of reporters lurking around near the gates and fences as they snapped photos of what they could see of the setup. 

         Inside the palace, Jhoanna and Mikha were both being pampered and prepared for the party, wearing complementary dresses – an ivory lace dress for Jhoanna, and a pale champagne coloured one for Mikha, both of them adhering to the traditional creamy shades that were typical of garden parties. Decked out in diamonds, including their engagement rings, they made a very expensive and striking couple, and before they went downstairs to join their awaiting guests, the photographer snapped some photos of them in the empty ballroom, where the sunlight streamed in through the tall windows. Satisfied, Jhoanna turned to Mikha and smiled, offering her arm to her.

         “Shall we present ourselves?”

         Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Mikha bit back a smile, “I suppose.”

         Jhoanna laughed as Mikha took the offered arm and glided towards the open doors, running her other hand over her dress as she made sure she looked perfect for the people waiting for them outside. Catching her fiddling with the engagement ring, before her hand fluttered up to reassure herself that the jeweled comb in her hair was keeping the perfectly arranged curls in its loose bun. 

         “Stop fussing,” Jhoanna quietly chided her, “you are absolutely beautiful. Give me a twirl.” Taking her hand, Jhoanna spun her out, and Mikha laughed, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with amusement as she spun back in, Jhoanna’s hands steadying her, before she reached up to brush back a stray curl.

         “You look … to die for,” Mikha murmured, smiling as Jhoanna wrinkled her nose, ducking her head and raising her hand to adjust non-existent glasses.

         “We should go, before we’re late to our own party,” Jhoanna said, gently booping Mikha on the tip of her nose.

         Mikha laughed, taking Jhoanna’s arm again and walking out of the ballroom, “it’s called fashionably late, darling.”

         “And you’ll make us late late, sweetie,” Jhoanna teased her, laughing as Mikha’s mouth turned down at the corners slightly. “You know I love the way you talk. It’s very … posh.”

         “Oh piss off,” Mikha scoffed, giving Jhoanna an exasperated look, even though her lips twitched slightly as she tried not to smile. “You should try going to an English boarding school in Ireland for most of your childhood, then you can make fun of me, darling.”

         “You love it,” Jhoanna said, leading her down one of the hallways leading towards the back of the palace. Mikha pouted slightly, her eyebrows knitting together as she looked straight ahead, while Jhoanna bit her lip as she tried not to smile. “You look like a petulant child when you pout like that.”

         “I am a petulant child, and far too young to be getting married, or so my mother told me,” Mikha sighed, “I hope you’re not going to try and tame me, because I like misbehaving.”        

         Laughing, Jhoanna pulled her close and kissed the side of her head, “well I think when she gave you the ring, she was just trying to be nice, not telling you to propose. And I wouldn’t dream of it, even if it drives me mad sometimes. For the record, I hope you never grow up; you make everything interesting.”

         “You didn’t think it was interesting that time in senior year when I bought ten thousand butterflies off amazon and released them inside the school.”

         “That’s because I was picking them out of my porridge, and I swallowed one during equestrian lessons, because there were so many outside when they managed to clear the school, and we had to cancel practice for the rest of the week,” Jhoanna told her, narrowing her eyes slightly while Mikha gave her a sheepish smile.

         “Well I only did it because you told the headmistress that I had vodka under my bed,” Mikha said, raising her eyebrows slightly, “I feel like it was a fair revenge, even if the rest of the school had to suffer too.”

         Jhoanna covered her mouth with her hand as she let out a loud laugh, looking at Mikha with wide eyes, “you thought that I told her about the vodka?”

         Mikha gave her a wary look, “you mean you didn’t?”

         “No!” Jhoanna exclaimed as she laughed, “that was Denise. It was payback for you getting her busted with the cigarettes you smoked in her room. I thought that was why you got into the fist fight that gave you this.” She reached out to gently brush the small scar under Mikha’s eyebrow as she smiled slightly.

         “Well shit, now I bloody feel bad,” Mikha laughed, “I thought it was you!”

         “Well now that we’re getting everything out in the open, when your Montegrappa pen went missing, it … didn’t go missing. I accidentally broke it and was too scared to tell you,” Jhoanna sheepishly told her, wincing slightly as she admitted the truth.

        Mikha tilted her head to the side, smiling up at Jhoanna, “I know. I found the broken nib in your drawer when I went looking for it. It was a seventy-thousand-dollar pen that I got for my sweet sixteen.”

         “Well now I feel even worse!” Jhoanna exclaimed, putting her head in her hand, “why didn’t you get pissed at me?”

         “It was just a pen, Jhoanna,” Mikha said, laughing as she gave her an amused smile, “besides, there was a different Montegrappa pen, which I happen to know a certain princess also owned and suspiciously lost, amongst my Christmas gifts that year. I still have it, I think – it’s a good pen. Although I do like the Caran d’Ache one you bought me.”

         “I still felt guilty,” Jhoanna said, giving her an apologetic smile, “we weren’t friends so I couldn’t even tell you. I thought you would rip my head off if you ever found out.”

         Shaking her head slightly, Mikha smiled, “no, I just ignored you for the rest of the year. Well, not that I wanted to be your friend anyway, so it just gave me a reason to be bitter and annoyed; it felt more justified that way. Now, it’s time for our grand entrance.”

         Their crawling pace through the castle had led them towards the French doors at the back, which were standing open, letting in a nice breeze and the smell of the thousands of flowers that were arranged outside, and they both stayed in the shadows of the hallway. A doorman stepped forward, clearing his throat before he loudly announced them both to the party guests strewn around the garden. 

         With a bright smile to Mikha, Jhoanna led them out into the sun, walking down the few steps and onto the lawn, watching as everyone rose from their slight curtsies and bows. A nearby server offered them both champagne flutes from the tray he held, and Jhoanna scanned the faces around them, looking for who she should greet first. Josh was standing nearby, alongside Martha, and Jhoanna knew that it would be an insult to the King of Aeternus, and future brother-in-law, if she didn’t greet him first. Turning to lean in close to Mikha, she quietly murmured, “we need to greet your family first.”

         Mikha’s smile was slightly forced, but she followed Jhoanna’s lead, treading carefully over the grass, nodding and smiling to her friends as she passed them by. They all fell back into their conversations, waiting for the Queen and Princess to greet them, and the soft sound of the string musicians blended into the background, adding to the relaxed atmosphere of the party. Relaxing for everyone except Mikha, whose shoulders had grown tenser with every step towards her mom and brother. 

         Jhoanna let go of her arm as they approached, her hand gently resting on Mikha’s lower back as she nodded and smiled at Martha and Josh, while Mikha dipped into a shallow curtsy. “Mother, Your Majesty,” Mikha stiffly greeted them.

         “Your Majesties,” Jhoanna politely said, giving them warm smiles, “we’re glad you could make it.”

         “I’m surprised,” Martha said, giving Jhoanna a sharp smile, “I believe I was only promised an invitation to the wedding.”

         Blushing slightly, Jhoanna cleared her throat, while Mikha bristled beside her, “if you’re not going to behave yourself, then perhaps you should go home. Are you sure your liver is fine? Perhaps you should still be on bed rest.”

         Giving her daughter a disapproving look, Martha drew herself up to her full height and gave her a haughty look, “you know very well that my liver is fine, Mikha, and whatever you might think, I do approve of your engagement.”

         “Well you have a funny way of showing it,” Mikha snarkily replied, ignoring the exasperated look Jhoanna gave her.

         “Why would I disapprove of something I helped put into motion?” Martha asked, arching one eyebrow, “I only wish you’d taken things slower. What has it been – four months?”

         “Eighteen,” Mikha stiffly told her, “surely you remember how it all started, mother?”

         Josh sighed, before he gave Jhoanna a polite smile, stepping forward and kissing them both on the cheek. “We’re very happy for you both. Truly, Mikha. I wish you both a long and happy marriage.”

        Some of the tension seemed to fade from Mikha’s shoulders, and she gave her brother a slight smile, if a little wary. “Thank you.”

         “We should greet our other guests,” Jhoanna said, excusing them both as she steered Mikha away from her family, smiling through her clenched teeth as she made a beeline towards her own family next. “Well, that went well.”

         Things went a lot smoother from then on, with them making the rounds to all of their guests - saving their closest friends til last – and making sure that they were both enjoying themselves. Careful not to drink too much, just in case something embarrassing happened that she’d never be able to live down, Jhoanna nursed her flute of champagne, thanking everyone as they offered her their congratulations and admired the ring, and eating from the vast array of food spread out on the tables, or being carried around on platters by ivory uniformed servers. 

         The photographers snapped photos of everything, and Jhoanna never strayed far from Mikha’s side, who looked happier than usual, even though she was a little more reserved with expressing it, in contrast to Jhoanna, who gushed to all of her friends about the proposal, and planning the engagement party. They hadn’t really talked about the actual wedding yet, just wanting to enjoy being engaged before they were stuck with endless questions from half a dozen wedding planners, so there wasn’t much to talk about on that front, but they answered everyone’s questions as best as they could, looking to each other for help when they didn’t know what to say.

---

         Mikha stood around one of the high tables inside a marquee with liquor, watching as Aiah poured a drink into a glass, having waved away the help of one of the servers, who had insisted that he could do it for her. She snuck the drink to Mikha, who gave her a warm smile, taking a sip of the cocktail and coughing slightly as it burnt on its way down. “Thanks, I think I need this,” she gasped slightly while Aiah laughed.

         “No problem. It’s a lot to process, huh?” Aiah asked, tilting her head to the side as she looked at Mikha with a small smile on her lips, raising her own drink and taking a sip, wincing like Mikha had.

         “Mm, I don’t mind it though,” Mikha murmured, her gaze softening as she watched Jhoanna burst into laughter at something Gian had said. She had been so happy that Mikha couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest whenever she looked at Jhoanna, enjoying the look of joy on her face and the almost tangible excitement as she bounced slightly, almost like she was going to explode. It was one of the things she loved about Jhoanna.

         Aiah quietly laughed, and Mikha looked up at her, arching an eyebrow expectantly as she took a sip. When Aiah didn’t say anything, she gave her a pointed look. “Come on, spit it out Miss Arceta. Don’t be polite on my account.”

         “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness,” Aiah said, raising her glass in a small toast to Mikha, before cracking a smile, “you’ve just changed is all.”

         Letting out a snort of laughter, Mikha shook her head slightly, giving her friend a thin smile, “oh?”

         “You’re not wearing black, Mikha,” Aiah said, gesturing to the dress, and Mikha threw her head back as she laughed. “And that! See. You would never have been so quick to laugh like that, or even laugh that loud. I’m really happy for you.”

         “Thank you,” Mikha said, giving her friend a warm smile, “and for what it’s worth, I asked Jhoanna if I could wear black and she said no. Apparently it’s not suitable for a garden party, or any kind of party that isn’t a wake.”

         Aiah choked on her sip of her drink, “only you would call a wake a party.”

         “Well either way, it was a no,” Mikha grimaced, “and of course I let her pick. I would let her dress me in hot pink if it made her happy.” She hesitated slightly, quickly turning to look at Aiah. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

         “Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness,” Yves said from behind Mikha, who jumped slightly and turned around to give her a warm smile, “I don’t think it’s your colour – no offence intended.”

        Aiah coughed to hide her laugh, but Mikha didn’t hide her own laughter, shrugged helplessly, “I agree. Come to join the fun?”

         “I brought the fun with me,” Yves said, opening her purse to half pull out the little silver flask inside, giving Mikha a smile, before hesitating slightly. “Actually, I came to ask if I could talk to you in private. Just for a moment; I don’t want to keep you from the fun.”

         “Of course,” Mikha quickly assured her, draining her drink, and briefly touching Aiah on her arm, “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, and keep an eye on my fiancé, please.”

         “I’ll keep her away from Deej – she’s the only trouble here, besides you,” Aiah laughed, shooing Mikha, who smoothed her dress and threw her shoulders back as she stepped out of the marquee, motioning for Yves to fall into step beside her.

         Jhoanna’s eyes drifted over to them both, and Mikha gave her a tiny wave, smiling lovingly at her as she led Yves away from the main party area. Feeling Jhoanna’s questioning gaze on their retreating figures, Mikha set off down the cobblestoned path winding through the rose bushes and lavender. They were silent as they walked, the slight breeze ruffling their hair and floating a butterfly past them, making Mikha smile as she recalled her conversation earlier with Jhoanna, and she led them further in, making for the maze to ensure that they were alone, except for Matthew, who followed silently behind. She wasn’t sure what Yves wanted to talk about, but she’d asked for a private word, and Mikha knew all too well that there was no privacy here. Once they reached the middle of the maze, Mikha sat down on the low brick wall encircling the fountain, gesturing for an uncertain Yves to join her, and remembering when her and Jhoanna had first had their proper conversation here.

         Yves opened her purse and pulled out the flask, taking a small sip, before offering it to Mikha. “Drink?”

         Hesitating slightly, Mikha took it with a wary look on her face, “okay, but don’t let me get too drunk. My mom would bloody love that.”

         After taking a small sip, she handed it back to Yves, who was looking a bit rosy cheeked and nervous as she put the flask back in her purse, and Mikha attributed it to the amount that she’d already drunk over the past few hours. 

         They sat there in silence, and Mikha absentmindedly trailed her fingers through the fountain water, watching the ripples spread out from where her hand broke the surface as she waited for Yves to speak. She didn’t rush her, and didn’t stare at Yves either, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, and eventually, Yves sighed. “When did you know?”

         “Know what?”

         “That you wanted to marry her,” Yves said, looking at Mikha, who looked up to meet the curious brown eyes staring at her.

         She laughed slightly, shrugging as she looked back at the fading ripples, “I don’t know. I mean, I knew I wanted to propose as soon as I saw the ring, and I knew that I didn’t want to waste any time. We were both cowards before, so I just- I asked. I didn’t know I wanted to marry her until I opened the box to see what my mom had given me, and I saw the little envelope inside the box, and when I opened it, out came the ring. It was like something clicked. I guess I would’ve done it on my own eventually, but it kicked my bloody ass into gear.”

         “You do want to marry her though, right?” Yves asked, “like you’re not going to decide that you rushed it? I don’t mean to offend you; I’m just looking out for my sister. You too, I guess; I actually do like you Mikha, and I would love it if she married someone like you. No, not someone like you – you.”

         “Thank you, Mary Loi,” Mikha said, giving her a warm smile.

         “You know I go by Yves, right?” she laughed, and Mikha smiled as she shrugged, “I mean, I call you Mikha – I hope you don’t mind.”

         Shaking her head, Mikha shook a few drops of water off her hand, “I don’t mind at all. The moment just seemed a bit serious, what with your questions and all.”

         “I hope I’m not overstepping, Your Highness,” Yves quickly climbed to her feet, looking a bit panicked, as if suddenly things had switched, and Mikha was back to being a princess and Yves was breaking all of the etiquette rules that had been instilled in her since birth.

         “Not at all,” Mikha assured her, jerking her head back towards the spot that Yves had just vacated, “I’m glad that you care so much about her. I know things have moved quickly, but that doesn’t mean I’m not sure. I’m very stubborn about things when I’ve made up my mind; I think the better question would be is Jhoanna sure.”

         Yves laughed, “oh trust me, I had to hear all about how stubborn you are. And insufferable, and arrogant, and opinionated and childish. She had a lot of words to say about you. I knew she was in love with you far before she did. Which you knew because of … the bet.”

         “Ah, yes, the bet,” Mikha laughed, an amused look crossing her face, “I’m rather glad that you pointed it out to her. I think we would’ve been waiting forever if she didn’t have the thought put in her head.”

         “Well, you made the first move, right?”

         “I did,” Mikha slowly said, a smile spreading across her face at the memory, “and completely ruined it all. It was bloody brilliant timing for that whole palaver with the shooting and then those photos. I think I was scared. Do you ever get scared with you and Colet?”

         A smile curled the corners of Yves’ lips, and she looked up at Mikha and nodded, “you know what, I’m terrified every day, but I love the rush. It’s all so new, and scary, but so, so right. I’ve never doubted it for a moment.”

         “Then you understand how I feel,” Mikha told her, “I think I’m not afraid so much now though. I think … I feel like I’m home. I found my peace and my freedom.”

         “Then I hope that you’re both happy together,” Yves said, climbing to her feet and dusting off the back of her dress, “god knows you both deserve it. Now, we’d better return to the party before Jhoanna thinks I’m being too hard on you.”

---

         The engagement party wasn’t late, being a garden party, and dusk was descending when Mikha appeared in the doorway of the sunlight sitting room, which, despite its name, was lacking the sunlight as the sun set beyond the windows. Jhoanna’s family, and Aiah, were drinking tea and eating cakes, and Jhoanna looked up and smiled as her fiancé appeared, having disappeared for some reason that she wouldn’t share with Jhoanna. Mikha returned the smile and jerked her head out to the hallway, and Jhoanna quickly put her tea down, excusing herself and waving everyone into their seats as they half-rose, slipping past everyone as she made her way over to Mikha. As soon as she reached her, Mikha linked their fingers together and pulled Jhoanna along behind her, while Jhoanna stumbled slightly and laughed.

         “Where are we off to in such a rush?” she asked.

         “Well that would just ruin the surprise,” Mikha exasperatedly replied, “you’ll just have to be patient a few minutes longer.”

         Silently letting herself be towed towards the closest door leading to the garden, Jhoanna didn’t say anything when Mikha let them outside, obediently following as she glanced up at the sky, which was darkening, but still held some of the warmer colours above the tops of the trees and some of the taller buildings in the city. It was the perfect spring evening – just a little bit cold as the wind turned slightly bitter, grabbing at Jhoanna’s dress and raising goosebumps on her exposed arms – and the garden was quiet, filled only with the sounds of rustling leaves, and the distant quacks of ducks on the pond on the far side of the estate. 

         They walked down the steps, rounding the western edge of the palace as they cut through flowerbeds and trees, laughing as they tripped and stumbled, and then Mikha pulled Jhoanna aside, pressing her against the trunk of a peach tree and roughly kissing her. The bark bit into her skin, but Jhoanna didn’t care as Mikha cupped her face and pressed herself up against her, and soon, Jhoanna didn’t even feel the cold anymore. When Mikha finally pulled back, her eyes sparkling with amusement in the dim twilight, Jhoanna breathlessly laughed, trying to catch her breath. “Was that why you brought me out here? To make out under a peach tree like two kids? You would’ve been better off taking me to a bedroom.”

         Mikha laughed, reaching out to wipe a smudge of lipstick off Jhoanna’s chin, smiling as she laced their hands together again. “No, I just really wanted to kiss you. Come on; it’s this way.”

         They quickly made their way through the rest of the garden, and as they rounded a row of hedges, Jhoanna let out a small gasp of surprise, her face lighting up with wonder as she took in the illuminated lake. The sun had set just enough for the darkness to make the dozens of tiny candles floating on the top of the water glow brightly, while the pinks and oranges gave enough light to make it seem even more magical. It was like an in between state, as if they’d stepped into somewhere out of a dream, and Mikha quietly laughed as she kept pulling Jhoanna along. They didn’t say anything until they got to the edge of the lake, a few ducks quacking as they glided past, and Mikha steadied the waiting rowing boat, kicking her heels off in the process.

         “Get in,” she told Jhoanna, a lopsided smile on her face as she gazed up at her.

         Immediately following Mikha’s orders, Jhoanna kicked off her own heels and climbed into the small wooden boat, balancing herself as Mikha climbed in after her, wobbling it before it settled into the water. Picking up the oars, Mikha steadily began rotating them, smoothly guiding them across the top of the water, and Jhoanna looked around in amazement, peering at the candles that bumped against the hull of the boat. There were so many of them, and it was beautiful, and looking up, she could see the first stars start to appear.

         “Mikha,” Jhoanna whispered, almost afraid to shatter the perfection of the moment, “it’s beautiful.”

         “I suppose it is,” Mikha murmured, smiling softly as Jhoanna turned her eyes back to her, and they crinkled slightly at the corners, which made Mikha’s smile grow wider.

         “Thank you,” Jhoanna said, standing up from her seat as she leant towards Mikha, rocking the boat precariously.

         An uneasy look crossed Mikha’s face as she reached out to try and steady them, giving Jhoanna a stern look, “Jhoanna, I swear to god, I’m wearing a fifteen thousand dollar Valentino dress and if you bloody tip the boat again-“

         “I won’t!” Jhoanna assured her, quietly laughing as she closed the distance between them and slowly kissed Mikha. She sat back down, watching as night descended and the candles burnt steadily while the boat moved of its own accord, leaving ripples in its wake. 

         After a while, she moved, making sure to be slow as to not worry Mikha. Carefully, Jhoanna settled down in the gap between the two benches, her long legs bent to accommodate her height, and she smiled up at Mikha, opening her arms to her. “Come and watch the stars with me.”

         Smiling, Mikha carefully squeezed herself into the space beside Jhoanna, loving the feeling of being curled up beside her, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable position. It was still perfect to her. Neither of them moved for the longest time, while Jhoanna ran her fingers up and down Mikha’s arm, watching the stars come out in full force as they lazily drifted on the top of the lake, with nothing but the sounds of ducks, the gentle lapping of the lake on the shore and reeds and leaves being blown by the wind to disturb their peace. They could’ve stayed out there all night, in their own little bubble as they floated amongst a sea of candles, spiraling and bobbing with the ripples cast from the rowing boat.

         “Jho…,” Mikha quietly whispered.

         “Mm?” Jhoanna murmured, turning her head to brush her lips against the top of Mikha’s head.

         “Do you think Jaycee or Kellan are pretty names?” Mikha asked, looking up at her.

         Jhoanna nodded sleepily, “yeah, I do. Why?”

         She felt Mikha shrug slightly, “I was just thinking about names, you know, for when we have kids.”

         Shooting upright in surprise, Jhoanna scrambled to face Mikha with wide eyes as she opened her mouth to respond. Instead, she fell backwards and was met with a mouthful of gritty lake water as she capsized the boat, managing to make out Mikha’s exclamation of surprise before she went under. Resurfacing into the dark interior of the boat, Jhoanna coughed and spluttered, her hair plastered to her face as she wiped water out of her eyes. A moment later, Mikha resurfaced with a splash, coughing and swearing as she tried to touch the bottom of the lake. They both swam on the spot, listening to each other breathe for a moment.

         “You want kids?” Jhoanna blurted out.

         “Not anymore, because I’m going to bloody kill you!” Mikha exclaimed, and Jhoanna burst into laughter, and Mikha shortly joined in, splashing water into Jhoanna’s face.

         As their laughter died off, Jhoanna fumbled in the dark inside of the boat, swimming forward until she almost bumped into Mikha, before cupping her face in her hands. “You want kids?” she quietly asked again, her voice hitching slightly. Mikha had made no secret of her dislike of kids, and Jhoanna was surprised at Mikha’s casual acknowledgement of the fact that they would happen, because she’d been expecting an awkward conversation in the near future.

         “I want kids with you,” Mikha said, and Jhoanna could hear the smile in her voice. She leant in and placed a clumsy kiss on the corner of Mikha’s mouth, before finding them in the dark and gently kissing her as she held them afloat. They broke apart, teeth chattering from the cold water as they laughed, and with another quick kiss, Mikha leant in, “I’m still going to kill you though. Twice, Jhoanna, really?”

         “You surprised me,” Jhoanna said, before she slipped under water and swam out from under the boat, quickly followed by Mikha. Soaking wet, they both splashed their way back to shore, wringing out the hems of their dresses as their feet left tracks in the muddy grass, and they both perked up at the sight of attendants stood nearby, one holding warm towels, another, fluffy bathrobes, and the last, a tray with steaming tea. Gratefully shrugging on the robes and wrapping their dripping hair in towels, they took the tea and settled down on the bank of the lake, looking at the candles that rocked with the gentle rhythm of the lake, knees knocking as they snuck glances at each other, smiling around the rims of their mugs. Neither of them could find the words to explain how perfect the moment was.

 

 

 

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         “Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Sheena said as she breezed into Jhoanna’s room. They both grumbled and stirred as she threw open the curtains, listening to the sounds of breakfast being set up at the table. “The time is seven o’clock, ma’am.”

         Jhoanna struggled upright, alongside Mikha, both of them with messy hair that had been left to dry naturally, and stretching widely as their eyes adjusted to the light streaming in. “Morning,” Jhoanna mumbled, collapsing back against the pillows, while Mikha climbed out of bed.

         “Good morning,” Mikha said, smiling as she headed towards the bathroom. Sheena curtsied towards her, before taking her leave, and Jhoanna followed after Mikha. 

         They showered quickly, and both of them wrapped themselves in robes as they made their way towards the bedroom door. Jhoanna opened it and stepped into the rest of her suite, pausing as she took in the sight of hers and Mikha’s assistants furiously whispering amongst themselves. They broke apart and fell silent at Jhoanna’s appearance in the doorway, both of them dipping their heads as they curtsied slightly.

         “What’s wrong?” Jhoanna asked, frowning slightly as she took in the sight of the two women who wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

         It was another moment, before Gwen stepped forward and picked up the folded morning newspaper, handing it to Jhoanna before returning to her demure position. Unfolding it, Jhoanna looked down at the headline and felt a sinking feeling inside. The front page had a photo of them close together, their hands entwined and bright smiles on their faces, taken ages ago, but brought up for the purpose of the article. The title announced their engagement.

         Jhoanna held it out to Mikha, who shook it out and let out a frustrated sigh, “for fuck’s sake.”

         It changed nothing, but there was still the disappointed feeling inside at the fact that the news leaked, instead of an official statement from the palace making the news public. Taking the newspaper back, Jhoanna flipped to the article and started skimming over the words. 

         “You can go,” she murmured to Sheena and Gwen, who both curtsied before making their way towards the door. As Gwen pulled it open, Jhoanna’s eyes got caught on a few words, and held out a hand towards them. “Wait! Fetch my aunt.”

         The door shut behind their assistants and Jhoanna handed the newspaper to Mikha, who sat down at the table, reaching for the coffee and pouring them both a cup, before she settled down in her chair and began to read. She finished it much faster than Jhoanna, and tossed it onto the wooden tabletop with a sigh. “Well, I guess that’s bloody out then.”

         “I’m sorry,” Jhoanna said, giving her a small smile, “I know you wanted to wait a little while longer before it went public.”

         Mikha reached out across the table, holding her hand open for Jhoanna’s hand, which she obligingly placed in it, and gave it a quick squeeze. “I don’t mind,” Mikha told her, a smile softening the hard lines of her face, “of course I want people to know we’re engaged. I’d shout it from the roof of the palace myself, just so that everyone could know. Didn’t you once say that some people would consider you a prize? Well I want them to be jealous that they can’t have you, because we picked each other. I just wanted some alone time to appreciate it with you.”

         Smiling, Jhoanna gave Mikha’s hand a small squeeze, “I love you, and I can assure you, everyone’s going to be jealous of me.”

         “The queen who stole the ice princess’ heart,” Mikha said, giving Jhoanna a wry smile, “who would’ve thought?”

         Laughing, Jhoanna cut a piece of bacon and popped it in her mouth, feeling a bit uneasy as she waited for Kathryn to be brought to her. She knew that her aunt was going to be leaving later on that day, but she was still at the palace right now, so they wouldn’t have to wait long. 

         The two girls were eating their breakfast and drinking coffee when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

         It opened to reveal Kathryn, looking sharp and alert in a pressed navy suit as she stepped inside, curtsying to both girls in turn. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

         “You leaked this, didn’t you?” Jhoanna said, completely ignoring the question as she picked up the newspaper and shook it out, before setting it down before her. “It seems that there are some doubts about whether Her Majesty is rushing into things with the Princess of Aeternus, but an inside source confirmed that the Queen is willing to risk it all for her lover, and isn’t afraid of what people might think,” Jhoanna coolly quoted. “I told you I didn’t care what people thought. I told you that I didn’t care if it ended in divorce, or what they wrote about us, because I was so sure.”

         Kathryn hesitated a moment, “I did leak the news, but only for your benefit.”

         “Our benefit?” Mikha sharply asked, her eyebrows drawn low over her blazing eyes. “Our lives are none of your concern, Duchess, and this was a private matter that we would’ve shared in our own time. Now the press will be crawling around the place, and we won’t be able to step foot outside without someone hounding us or sneaking photos.”

         “Exactly,” Kathryn said, “you need to know what you’re up against for the rest of your lives. You need to know how it feels to be cooped up inside, or to be thrown into the thick of it. It’s your choice, which one you pick, but you’ll know whether you can make it through it. The press has been mild so far - you haven’t had any really big news since your family’s funerals and your coronation, Jhoanna. Sure, they’ve been interested in your relationship, and there’s always someone taking photos, but you’ve never had to do couple interviews and photoshoots. You’ve been to charity events and greeted people in small towns, but you’ve never had to deal with all of the publicity that comes with being a royal couple. Not to this extent. You said you’re ready, and this will let you know if you are.”

         Jhoanna felt a flicker of anger well up inside, but fought it back as she looked at Kathryn. “That wasn’t your decision to make though, was it? We would’ve had to deal with this regardless; why couldn’t we have been allowed a few more weeks of keeping it a secret?”

         “I’m sorry for overstepping, but you need to see what you’re up against,” Kathryn said, ducking her head apologetically, even though there was no shame on her face or in her voice.

         Pressing her lips together in a grim line, Jhoanna frowned slightly, “it wasn’t your decision to make. We’re no longer under contract, and we don’t need your help; in fact, we didn’t need it even when we were under contract. Thank you for your concern, but stay out of our business, please. I won’t have my privacy stripped away from me even further, and I don’t want to not trust you, Aunt Kathryn. You’re part of the few family I have left, and I don’t want things to be ruined between us.”

         “I’m sorry, I only meant to try and put things into perspective for you,” Kathryn murmured, “you know I love you like you were my own daughter, and I’d never intentionally hurt you – or your relationships.”

         “It’s fine,” Jhoanna sighed, rubbing her tired eyes, “can you, uh, just get an official statement drawn up please. We’d better get on top of this and just announce it. There’s no point denying it now if we’re just going to come out with it in a few weeks anyway.”

         Kathryn curtsied and walked out, leaving them both to their breakfast, and Mikha sighed picking up a piece of toast and biting into it with a disgruntled look on her face. Jhoanna poured her some orange juice and slid it across the table, and Mikha looked up, giving her a small smile as the frown disappeared. “It’s okay, Jhoanna.”

         Nodding, Jhoanna picked up her coffee and took a sip, reaching down to scratch the top of Aoife’s head as the huge dog came sniffing around the table. Feeding her some bacon, Jhoanna smiled slightly, “we’ll need to make an appearance outside the palace once the statement drops. I’ll get Sheena to sort out wardrobe for us and call in hair and make up. We’ll most likely have to do an interview too.”

         Grimacing, Mikha nodded, “then we’ll probably need to talk to Kathryn again to help prepare ourselves for the questions. I’ll call in my publicist as well so she can help us go over everything. We don’t want to mess this up.”

         “I think we have more than enough motivation to prove that we can do this,” Jhoanna smiled around the rim of her coffee cup, “and I know your stubbornness won’t let you make us not pull it off without a hitch. We’ve got this, babe; now finish your toast and let’s get ready.”

---

         They were standing inside the front doors of the palace, Jhoanna anxiously pacing up and down the plush red carpet as she waited until they were ready to make a public appearance on the front steps of the palace. The statement had been released a few hours earlier, and by lunchtime, they were the only story running on every news station, website, social media, and there was no doubt that every magazine and newspaper were already working on stories to print for the evening news and tomorrow’s paper. Mikha stood against a marble pillar, arms crossed over her chest and a faint smile playing on her lips as she watched Jhoanna nervously run her hands over the skirt of her dress. Taking a deep breath as she retraced her steps back towards the doors, Jhoanna was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked her head up to meet Yves’ brown eyes, crinkling at the corners as she looked at her sister with amusement.

         “You’re going to wear a hole into the carpet if you keep that up,” Yves told her, and Jhoanna let out a nervous laugh, hearing Mikha’s quiet laughter behind her, “take a deep breath, go and stand next to Mikha, and don’t worry.”

         Jhoanna smiled and nodded, “yeah, of course. You’re right, I’m being silly.”

         Yves dropped her hand, and Jhoanna walked over to Mikha, who pushed herself off the pillar and held her arms open, grabbing Jhoanna by her upper arms and running her hands up and down them in a soothing manner. “Relax,” Mikha quietly laughed, “all we have to do is stand on the steps and smile. Can you do that?”

         Rolling her eyes, Jhoanna gave Mikha a crooked smile, “of course I can, but there’s going to be so many reporters. There’s going to be a lot of them, and you know how I feel about big crowds. What if I start panicking? What if someone tries to shoot one of us again? What if-“

         “Jho, relax a second. I’m going to be right beside you, holding your hand, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you. No one’s going to shoot us – the place is bloody crawling with security - and if you panic, then we’ll come straight back inside.”

         “And the interview?” Jhoanna asked.

         “We’ll be right next to each other again, and I can do all of the talking if you want.”        

         Laughing, Jhoanna reached out to hold Mikha by her waist, wrinkling her nose slightly, “you hate that side of things even more than I do.”

         “I love you more than I hate those things though,” Mikha murmured, before glancing around to make sure no one was looking and leaning in to quickly kiss Jhoanna. “Now, Your Majesty, it’s time for us to go and officially make our first public appearance as an engaged couple.”

         Feeling a lot lighter, if still a little nervous, Jhoanna quietly laughed and offered Mikha her arm, “Your Highness, if you please.” Mikha let out a snort of laughter, looping her arm through Jhoanna’s and smiling when Jhoanna lifted it to press a quick kiss to the back of it, before giving Mikha a wide smile.

         They walked towards the doors as they were pulled open by uniformed guards, who bowed slightly, waiting for the queen and princess to pass them by. It was blindingly bright outside, with a cloudless blue sky and a warm breeze, and they were met with shouts as they stepped out onto the top step, taking in the sight of reporters pressed up against the bars of the fence, some of them slipping arms through as they tried to catch the attention of the two girls. Camera flashes blinded them, and Mikha quickly propelled Jhoanna down half of the steps, before they stopped, Mikha’s ring sparkling as it caught the sun, and Jhoanna brought her own left hand up to gently rest on top of Mikha’s, smiling down at her as she watched the cameras go wild out of the corner of her eyes. The proud and slightly smug smile of Mikha’s face was enough to make Jhoanna laugh slightly, her own smile widening as she looked down at the woman beside her. 

         They were very loosely surrounded by bodyguards, standing at intervals on either side of the wide steps – close enough to get to them in an emergency, but far enough away for clear photos – and Jhoanna found herself less nervous as she waved to the reporters and smiled for them. It was ten minutes later when she found herself in the cool interior of the palace, primly sat on a sofa in one of the small sitting rooms on the east wing of the palace, feeling relaxed beside Mikha, but with a knot growing in her stomach as they waited for the Amity Today reporter to begin the interview. They were always the first to report on the royal family of Amity, and so they would get the exclusive interview with Jhoanna and Mikha too.

         Cameramen rushed around, and the lighting crew fixed the white panels at the fringes of the room, and Jhoanna and Mikha had their heads tilted up slightly as their make up was touched up in preparation for the interview. It was a few more minutes before they were all ready, and Mikha gave Jhoanna’s hand a quick squeeze, her mouth turning up at the corners as she gave her a loving look. 

         As the cameras started rolling, they fell into the interview, and as they both carefully answered the questions that had been prepared for them, Jhoanna felt herself becoming more relaxed, especially when Mikha was talking and she could just watch her, admiring the calm and confident way she navigated the questions. She was good at it, and Jhoanna was relieved that at least one of them wasn’t a mess, nervously stumbling over words and hesitating – more than once, Mikha’s aloof charm saved her with a dry quip or something that was almost sarcastic, but managed to remain just inside of what would be considered appropriate for a royal. Jhoanna found herself smiling the entire time, listening as the reporter asked the next question.

         “When did you know that you were going to marry her one day?” the reporter asked, smiling slightly as she scribbled a few notes – the cameras were never on her, so she was at liberty to make notes on every shift in their positions and looks that the happy couple shared.

         Jhoanna laughed slightly, turning to give Mikha a wry smile, “from the moment we first met – well, from the moment we were reacquainted. We hadn't talked since boarding school, but I walked into that room and a few minutes in, I just knew we were going to get married one day. It was almost as if I saw my whole life planned out then and there.”

         She could see the way that Mikha was trying to bite back her laughter, because it wasn’t even a lie – with the contract dictating every aspect of their relationship, they did know that they would get married one day, and it was funny to think that they’d wound up on the sofa with matching engagement rings, all of their own accord. “I would agree, although it came as a surprise to us both at how quickly everything seemed to fall into place so easily. Everything just felt so easy between us, it was almost as if it was planned.”

         “So, how did it happen?”

         “I asked,” Mikha quickly said, a proud smile on her face as her eyes lit up, turning to look at Jhoanna, “we were in Ireland, and I had the ring with me. It felt like the right moment, and so I got down on one knee, and I asked her. It wasn’t anything grand, but it was a private moment, just between the two of us, and it was just so special to me.”

         “Was it romantic?”

         Jhoanna laughed, “it was very romantic. We were somewhere along the coast – along the cliffs of Moher – and anyone who’s been there knows that it’s just the most beautiful place. It was at sunset, so the sky and the view was beautiful, and it was just perfect, and a complete surprise.”

         A quick squeeze of her hand made Jhoanna smile, and she met Mikha’s warm chocolate brown eyes, crinkling slightly at the corners as she smiled, and they both had to tear their gaze away as the reporter asked the next question. It only went for half an hour, before they were shaking the reporter’s hand and slipping out of the room, leaving everyone to pack up the equipment. 

         They walked through the deserted corridor, Jhoanna gently swinging their joined hands back and forth while Mikha quietly laughed.

         “Was that so bad?”

         Jhoanna smiled, “no, it wasn’t bad at all. How’re you feeling?”

         Shrugging slightly, Mikha leant up to gently kiss her on the cheek, careful not to leave lipstick marks behind. “It feels … less invasive than I thought. I guess because we agreed to it. We’ll see how it goes when we go for pancakes tomorrow and we’re being hounded by more reporters.”

         “We’re getting pancakes tomorrow?” Jhoanna quickly asked, her face lighting up with excitement.

         “It was an example, darling, but you can have anything you want. We can have pancakes, and we can go to the art gallery that I know you’ve been wanting to go to. Maybe we can even go to that fancy Japanese teahouse that just opened.”

         “They won’t have scones,” Jhoanna pointed out with a smile.

         Mikha laughed, “no, but they’ll have better tea.”

         “I’ll make a note to get some brought from Japan for you,” Jhoanna said, wrinkling her nose slightly as she gave Mikha’s hand a quick squeeze, “and some of the sushi you like – only if you promise not to bet me to eat all the wasabi again.”

        “Or you could not be so competitive,” Mikha said, arching an eyebrow as she gave Jhoanna a pointed look.

         “You know if you bet me then I have to do it. It would be like asking you not to accept a challenge. If I said I could beat you to the west end of the palace, you would have to try and beat me, and I would have to try and beat you. We’re both stubborn,” Jhoanna said, shrugging helplessly.

         A slow smile spread across Mikha’s face, “are we talking the western doors or…”

         “Mikha,” Jhoanna said in a warning voice, as she gave her fiancé a stern look, “we’re not children anymore – or trying to annoy each other.”

         “I know,” Mikha said, as she kicked her heels off, letting them clatter to the marble floor, a challenging smile on her lips, “but you’re right, we’re stubborn.”

         Jhoanna gave her an exasperated look, even as she slowly kicked her own heels off. They both stood barefoot, staring at each other silently as they stared at each other. 

         “Doors!” Jhoanna suddenly exclaimed, shooting off down the hallway with a loud laugh as Mikha swore, her footsteps chasing after her. 

         Flying around corners and almost bumping into staff, they chased each other through the hallways, heading from the east wing, through the main area, and into the west wing, breathlessly laughing as they bumped each other and tried not to trip on the rolled out carpet in the main hallways, or knock expensive vases off their stands. They were both out of breath when they reached the doors leading out to the western courtyard, and Jhoanna’s hand slammed against it a mere second before Mikha’s did, and she let out a triumphant shout while Mikha threw her head back and groaned.

         “I’ve changed my mind,” Mikha said, biting back a smile, “I’m not making any more bets with you. What’s your prize?”

         With a thoughtful look on her face, Jhoanna swayed back and forth for a few moments, before her face lit up with an expression that made Mikha groan in anticipation of whatever was about to come out of her mouth. “You have to let me post a photo of us on my Instagram,” Jhoanna said.

        “Oh, that’s it?” Mikha asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, “but I always let you, as long as I approve of it.”

         “Yes, but this time you’re going to let me post a picture from when we were at boarding school together,” Jhoanna said, giving her a smug smile.

         Covering her face with her hands, Mikha groaned again, “why? They’re so embarrassing, Jhoanna! Do you want to embarrass yourself too?”

         “Are you saying I was ugly in school?” Jhoanna asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.

         Mikha looped their arms together, pressing her lips into a thin line as she grimaced slightly, “of course you weren’t, but boarding school, Jhoanna. That says is all. Those ugly navy dresses and knee high socks – ugh, it was bloody awful. And you didn’t have all sorts of hair colours and very heavy black eye shadow.”

         Laughing, Jhoanna pulled her phone out of her pocket, going to her photos and quickly scrolling through. She tapped on a black and white photo and held her phone out for Mikha to take a look. The picture was already engraved in her mind; it was of all of the captain’s of the school’s sports teams. There was Jhoanna in her field hockey uniform, hockey stick in hand and a captain’s badge on her chest as she smiled widely for the camera. Both of her socks were drawn up to her knees, and her polo shirt was neatly tucked into her skirt. Everything about her was prim and proper, and she exuded happiness and pride. Beside her was a dark haired Mikha – no odd colour or gothy make up – her brows drawn down low over her piercing stare, and her face neutral. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t exactly look pleased to be there. She had on her rowing uniform, the knee high socks unevenly rolled down, her polo shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and her hands in the pockets of the gym shorts. Jhoanna had cropped out everyone else, and Mikha laughed as she looked at it; they were complete opposites.

         “Okay, fair enough, that one’s not that bad, and you look cute,” Mikha begrudgingly said, “you can have your prize.”

         Jhoanna laughed, “I’d also like a kiss, if it’s not too much to ask.” 

         Mikha paused for a second, pressing her lips together as she pretended to think hard, and Jhoanna pulled her close, smiling as she shook her head, and Mikha mirrored her smile as she leant in and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. When they pulled back, Jhoanna stole another quick kiss, before threading her fingers through Mikha’s and dragging her through the palace. “Now, as a consolation prize, you can pick what we do for the rest of the day.”

         “How generous of you, my dear,” Mikha snorted, smiling as she kept pace with Jhoanna, “how about we go outside, and we hide in the patch of trees at the north end of the garden and avoid everyone for the rest of the day?”

         “That sounds perfect,” Jhoanna said, kissing the side of Mikha’s head, “better be quick or Matthew will catch on.”

         Barefoot, they both made for the nearest door leading outside, running out onto the cobblestoned path and setting off across the grass, trying to be quick and quiet as they dodged plants and statues and surprised looking gardeners. 

         By the time they reached the trees, they were both out of breath and collapsed onto their backs, staring up at the canopy of green leaves high above them as they lay side by side, hand in hand. They didn’t move for the rest of the afternoon – not until the sun had started to sink, leaching all of the colours out of the garden, and leaving them staring up at the lavender sky as dusk set it.

 

 

---

 

         It had been weeks and things hadn’t settled down since the engagement news had dropped, and each time they went out in public, it was a disorienting haze of people shouting and blinding flashes, until they were inside a building or in the car - there were no more casual strolls down the sidewalk. They were both managing it fine, but neither of them pretended like it wasn’t annoying, and at times, a little overwhelming. It was easier than they expected though, because they’d both set themselves up for excruciatingly difficult attempts at leaving the palace whenever they went out, and the fact that they could make it to their destination and hide in a quiet, cozy restaurant, hidden from the cameras, was better than they had hoped for, so their expectations fell short, and they were both relieved.

         Jhoanna hadn’t spoken to Kathryn at all over the following weeks, even though her aunt had called on business a few times, but Jhoanna used the excuse that she was busy with work so that she wouldn’t have to speak to her, and almost managed to convince herself that it was the reason why. The truth was that she was still pissed, and it was glaringly obvious to everyone else who knew why, but Jhoanna didn’t want to be mad at her aunt, even though she had a great reason to be. For once, she was glad that Kathryn’s work kept her so far from the palace all the time, because at least that way, they didn’t have to see each other.

         Mikha had been shouldering the whole thing with as gracefully as she could, but Jhoanna could see the physical relief as she flopped down into a chair whenever they made it back to the palace, and the way her shoulders dropped as the tension faded with the help of some brandy, which wasn't exactly new for Mikha, who always handled things like that. The publicity was something they were familiar with, but the intensity and seemingly endless stream of reporters, was more than they’d experienced before. Questions about when the date would be, or who was going to design their dresses, and what Jhoanna’s parents would think if they were alive were thrown their way, over and over again, and Jhoanna almost wanted to yell the answers so they would have them and go away. She knew that wasn’t how reporters worked though, so she didn’t even give them an inch, and they were everywhere her and Mikha went for weeks afterwards. Still, everything was perfect amongst themselves.

         They’d settled on spring the following year, giving them a little under nine months to plan everything and enjoy their engagement, before settling down into married life. It would have been almost two and a half years since starting the contract by then, which seemed a reasonable span of time to marry someone, even if they had been at each other’s throats for over a year of it. Sometimes it was startling to think about the hostility and dislike between them both at the beginning, even if it had mostly been due to their anger and irritation at the situation, rather than each other - although Jhoanna would certainly say that Mikha had disliked her a whole lot more than she had - and at nights when Mikha lay wrapped up in Jhoanna’s arms, they would laugh about it. Those were the best moments; when it was midnight and they were laying under the covers, both of them trying to be quiet, as though they were little kids who didn’t want to get caught, and they would tell each other ridiculous stories, or remind each other of memories they’d almost thought they’d forgotten.

         It was Thursday morning, and they’d already been woken up by Sheena, but hadn’t moved since she’s thrown the curtains open. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bright and promising for the day ahead of them, and the blankets weren’t enough to block out the light as they lay beneath the covers. 

         Jhoanna slid the strap of Mikha’s nightdress off her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the pale skin, while Mikha laughed and squirmed slightly at the ticklish feeling of Jhoanna’s soft lips on her back. 

         “You’re going to be in trouble if you keep that up,” Mikha murmured, her face pressed into the pillows.

         Jhoanna quietly laughed, her fingers digging into Mikha’s hip bone as she pressed up close and kissed the back of her neck. “Oh? What trouble is that?” Jhoanna whispered. 

         Mikha sighed as she rolled over beneath Jhoanna, pursing her lips slightly as a delicate frown graced her face. “You’ll get us in trouble with your sister,” Mikha said, reaching up to brush the back of her fingers against Jhoanna’s cheek, “you asked her to come yachting with us today, and we’ve got the meeting with our lawyers. We can’t do that if we’re in bed all day.”

         “It’s a good thing that I’m the Queen, and I can afford to lay in bed all day if I want to,” Jhoanna murmured against Mikha’s lips as she leant down to kiss her, “and I should think that you’d love to get into some trouble.”

         Pushing the blankets over their heads, Mikha sat up, pushing Jhoanna up with her, and laughed slightly as Jhoanna sat in her lap, her arms loosely wrapped around Mikha’s neck as she smiled down at her. 

         Mikha’s fingers ran through Jhoanna’s tangled curls, and she leant forward to kiss Jhoanna’s neck, her lips a gentle graze that made Jhoanna shiver slightly. “You know how much I love trouble, and I’m sure we’ll find some later today. Now, I don’t want you to be grumpy all day because you haven’t eaten; let’s shower and have some breakfast.”

         Making a small sound of protest, Jhoanna climbed out of her lap, holding out a hand to drag Mikha out of bed with her, and leading them to the bathroom. They quickly showered and dressed appropriately for the morning of important meetings, and made their way out to the table, which was laden with their breakfast. Jhoanna was in the middle of chewing a piece of watermelon from the fresh fruit salad, while Mikha read the newspaper, finding nothing incriminating about the two of them, and sipped at her cup of black coffee. 

         They weren’t disturbed for another hour, until Gwen knocked on the door and announced George and Alfea’s arrival, at which, Jhoanna and Mikha climbed to their feet and made their way to one of the rooms reserved for meetings. Both lawyers curtsied slightly at the entrance of the royals, and Jhoanna gave them both warm smiles, while Mikha gave them polite nods, a slight smile on her lips for George, before they both seated themselves at the table, followed by their lawyers.

         “We’ll cut right to it,” George said, producing a file and opening it. She quickly pulled out the agreements and laid one down before both girls, before she rounded the table and sat down opposite Jhoanna. Alfea seated herself beside George, bringing out a fountain pen and setting down on the table for them both.

         “Miss Cruz and I have compiled your individual finances and come up with a prenuptial agreement,” Alfea told them, and both girls looked at the contract before them. It was one they were both willing to sign – out of best interests for each other, as well as the hopefulness that it wouldn’t come down to a divorce. If it did, they didn’t want to steal each other’s fortune though, and while neither of them thought that they would, it was a necessary thing, and they knew it. 

         As the sole inheritor of her entire family’s fortune, Jhoanna’s worth was an outrageous amount, and despite her only having a trust fund and a regular income as her title permitted her, Mikha’s was surprisingly large too, and Jhoanna knew that a large part of that was due to her liquidated funds in land, property and artwork. They both quickly read over everything, before Jhoanna met Mikha’s eyes and gave her a small smile; she knew Mikha now had an aversion to contracts of any form, but at the smile on Jhoanna’s face, Mikha reached out for the pen and signed on the line with a flourish, with no hesitation at all. Reaching over, she took Jhoanna’s copy and signed on all the lines on that one, before giving Jhoanna a crooked smile that showed off her dimples, and held out the pen. 

         Slowly reaching out, Jhoanna took the pen, and after a searching look in Mikha’s chocolate brown eyes, Jhoanna gave her a bright smile, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, and turned her attention to the prenup before her. Signing right beside Mikha on all of the allocated lines, Jhoanna recapped the pen and held it out to Alfea, as George stood, giving them both happy smiles as she collected the contracts, handing one to Alfea, who filed it away in her briefcase, while George did the same with the other.

         “Thank you,” Jhoanna said to them both, and Mikha replied similarly, climbing to her feet and reaching out to shake both girl’s hands. With the business side of things quickly taken care of, they went to get changed into clothes more suitable for yachting, and were soon in their car, heading towards the sea.

---

         By the time they reached the docks, Yves and Colet were already waiting on board the yacht with Aiah and Kai, and Jhoanna laughed as Mikha was almost knocked over by the enthusiastic child jumping onto the jetty and barrelling into her. They were quickly all safely on board, with only two bodyguards - Colet was there too, but having been retired, she didn’t officially count - and Matthew was guiding them away from the dock, while Jhoanna wound up rope, and neatly stowed it away.

         The sandy shores of the coast gave way to the stretch of dazzling blue, and they watched seagulls wheel around, skimming low over the water, before pulling back up, and navigated their way past the other boats in the harbour. Soon, they were far enough out that all the other boats looked like little toys bobbing up and down, and there was silence, except for the creaking of the boat and the sound of the sea. 

         The sun was warm on their faces, and the smell of salt was invigorating, and the best part was that there were no reporters or paparazzi around. Jhoanna could see the tension bleed out of Mikha’s shoulders as they dropped beneath the white t-shirt covering them, and she smiled as she walked over to her. Taking her hand, Jhoanna kissed the back of it and started pulling her towards the other end of the boat.

          The yacht was smoothly gliding over the top of the water as Jhoanna led Mikha over to the steering wheel, nodding to Matthew, who stepped back and receded into the shade to watch the girls carefully. Moving up behind Mikha, Jhoanna took both of her hands in her own and lifted them, putting them on the steering wheel and kissing the side on Mikha’s neck. 

         “Now, do you remember what you learnt last time?” Jhoanna quietly asked, feeling Mikha shiver slightly at the touch of her lips.

         She laughed quietly, turning her head to the side slightly, “yes; if I push you in the sea, you’ll sulk for the rest of the day and stop talking.” 

         Jhoanna let out a snort of laughter, tickling Mikha on her ribs, right where she knew she hated it, and laughed again at the squeal of protest from Mikha, who dodged to the side and turned to face Jhoanna. Her eyes were hidden by her sunglasses, but her pout and furrowed eyebrows were enough to let Jhoanna know she wasn’t impressed. 

         “I’ll do it again, you know,” Mikha threatened her as her lips twitched slightly into a smile, “I don’t care if I love you now, I’ll still push you in.”

         “Is that your way of telling me to be quiet?” Jhoanna asked, arching and eyebrow while she gave Mikha an amused look.

         With a sigh, Mikha reached out to cup her cheeks in her hands and leant in to gently kiss her, “you still don’t stop bloody talking, but I don’t think I ever hated it. I was just a miserable cow.”

         “I mean ... yeah,” Jhoanna shrugged, laughing as Mikha’s mouth fell open.

         “You’re supposed to defend me, you traitorous witch,” Mikha huffed, even as she bit back a smile, and Jhoanna laughed.

         Placing her hands on Mikha’s shoulders, she turned her back around and guided her hands back to the steering wheel, moving up close behind her and resting her chin on her shoulder. “I’ll always defend you, darling, but if anyone’s going to wind you up, it’s going to be me,” Jhoanna said, her dark brown eyes sparkling as she looked out over the blue water.

         “Hm, well your odd sense of humour is one of your more attractive qualities,” Mikha murmured.

         “Please, tell me more about these attractive qualities,” Jhoanna quietly laughed, moving their hands on the wheel slightly to the right to adjust their course.

         Mikha was silent for a moment, and Jhoanna could see her throat bob up and down, and a slight smirk on her lips. “Well there’s your kindness of course - I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so caring in my entire life. And your brain; you’re not stupid, and you don’t let anyone make you feel like you are, and I think it’s a good thing that you’re stubborn, or people would be treating you like an idiot because you can’t possibly be able to be Queen at such a young age, and as a woman. Speaking of stubbornness, perhaps it’s because I’m also stubborn, but I do find it very attractive. That might also be because no one outside of my family has ever told me no before, and you were ... quite the challenge. I think that our stubbornness made us refuse to admit how we felt for a long while, which makes this all the more,” she cut off and turned in Jhoanna’s arms to steal a quick kiss, “sweeter.”

         Jhoanna laughed, “hm, well I won’t argue with you there. I’d do it all again, over and over, because it’s been some of the most exciting and wildest times of my life, and I’ve treasured every moment.”

         “No need to get all soft of me, darling,” Mikha smirked, reaching up to fix Jhoanna’s glasses for her.

        “You’re an ass,” Jhoanna laughed, spinning her around and wrapping her arms around Mikha, who held onto the steering wheel. They were quiet for a while, listening to the sound of waves breaking against the hull of the boat, and the wind in the sails.

         It was a few minutes later when Yves walked over with two glasses, handing them off to both of them with a smile. “Mimosas?”

         “Thanks,” Jhoanna said, taking a sip and smiling brightly, “hey, did you want to sail? You can teach Colet.”

         “Bored already?” Yves asked, and Jhoanna rolled her eyes as she started to unbutton her shirt, quickly followed by her shorts. She was wearing a bikini, and the sun felt warm on her tanned skin as she basked in it, enjoying her drink.

         Mikha slipped away from the steering wheel, heading towards the cabin, before she reemerged with a bottle of sun tan lotion and towels in exchange for her drink. Jhoanna let out a laugh as a disapproving Mikha started rubbing some of the lotion all over her, a look of concentration on her face as she made sure she didn’t miss anywhere so Jhoanna didn’t burn. 

         Jhoanna was patient, even as she fidgeted slightly, and she gave Mikha a warm smile when she was finished. “Perfect. Time to catch a tan. Are you going to read in the sun with me?”

         Mikha scoffed, “you have a better chance of convincing Matthew to be off duty for the day, if you think I'm going to stand in direct sunlight for longer than three minutes. And would you look at that, my allotted time is up; I'm going to go and read in the cabin. Don’t get too crispy - I don’t want to date a lobster.”

         “I’ll be quick - I don’t want you pushing me overboard again,” Jhoanna said, leaning in to kiss Mikha on the cheek, before she drained her mimosa and winked at her as she accepted a towel. Laying a towel out on the deck, Jhoanna stretched out on it and watched as Mikha wandered over to Kai, handing Aiah a towel and sending her over to Jhoanna to sunbathe.

         Revelling in the feeling of the sun on her skin, Jhoanna lay with her eyes closed, silent, except for the occasional word to Aiah, until she heard Mikha and Kai’s laughter from inside the cabin. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Jhoanna cast her eyes towards Yves, who was whispering something to Colet while she helped her steer, and then double-checked that Mikha was in the cabin with Kai, before gently clearing her throat. “Aiah, may I ask you a question?”

         The other woman pushed her sunglasses up onto the top of her head as she looked at Jhoanna, giving her a reassuring smile. “Of course.”

         Hesitating slightly, Jhoanna’s face softened as she bit her lip, smiling as she looked out at the sea instead of meeting Aiah’s curious gaze. “Do you- well, you’ve known Mikha for a long time now, right?”

         “Yes. I mean, she refused to admit we were friends - still doesn’t sometimes - but we’ve been friends since we were teenagers. I really only got to see her at official events until we graduated school, but she was the only person who supported me when I got pregnant. After school we just- we became even closer,” Aiah quietly said.

         “Right,” Jhoanna nodded slowly, before hesitating, “do you- do you think she’ll be a good mom?”

         Aiah quietly laughed, flipping onto her stomach and propping herself up onto her elbows as she glanced at Jhoanna with a warm smile on her face. “I think she’ll make a great mom.”

         “You do?”

         “Yeah! I know she never wanted kids - or a relationship - and that was okay, but there’s always that thought that if you meet the right person, you’ll change your mind, you know? I mean, she could’ve met you and still not wanted kids, but she told me that she does want them. I’ve watched her with Kai, and it’s- well, when it’s not your kid, it’s scary to hold a screaming baby, and it used to make her panic, and she’s always been awkward around her when she was little - you should’ve seen her when Kai started talking; she had no idea how to talk to a child - but she’s always spoilt her rotten. Maybe she’s always doted on her because she never thought she’d have her own kids, but if that’s the way she is with my little girl ... I can’t wait to see what kind of mom she’ll be. I think she’ll be amazing.”

        Jhoanna looked at Aiah and gave her a shy smile, feeling warmth and love spread throughout her as she thought about Mikha and their own child. “I think she will be too.”

         A few minutes later, she decided she’d had enough sun, and sought out the cool cabin and the food waiting for them, smiling as she took in the sight of Mikha reading her book aloud to Kai, who was sitting so close, she may as well have been in Mikha’s lap. Jhoanna knew that she adored her godmother, and that was enough of an idea of how great Mikha was, even if she’d never really loved kids all that much. Quickly grabbing a peach and a bottle of water, Jhoanna winked at Mikha, who had been distractedly watching her, and walked back outside. She sat down on a patch of the deck that was partially shaded by the sails, biting into the peach while she gazed out at the endless stretch of blue before her. 

         A moment later, Mikha sat down beside her, their knees knocking as she crossed her legs, and she reached over to pluck the peach off Jhoanna, taking a quick bite, before giving it back. Shaking her head, Jhoanna quietly laughed, reaching out to wind a strand of Mikha’s hair back into her messy bun as the wind pulled at it.

         “Quick, no one’s looking,” Mikha said, glancing around, and Jhoanna raised her eyebrows slightly, until warm lips came down on hers. Smiling into it, Jhoanna cupped her cheek and kissed her back, until a shadow fell across them and they jumped apart.

         Kai had her hands on her hips as she frowned at them both slightly, “aren’t you not supposed to kiss in public?”

         Mikha let out a snort of laughter, “she’s the Queen and I’m the Princess; we can do whatever we want, Kai-bear.”

         The curious teen sat down across from them, tilting her head to the side as she took in the rings on their fingers. “When you’re married, will that make you a queen as well?”

         “Nope, I’ll just be the princess of a different country,” Mikha told her, a look of amusement on her face.

         “But if it was a man, would they be king?” Kai asked Jhoanna, who let out a quick laugh.

        “No, no one can be above me. They would be a prince, if I let them. Mikha will be a duchess for a little while before we’re married - not a princess - and then I’ll make her a princess again,” Jhoanna explained.

         Kai was silent for a moment, before she looked up at Jhoanna again, “can you make anyone a princess?”

         Mikha laughed, “is that your next birthday wish, Kai-bear?” The little girl blushed slightly as she shrugged, and Mikha laughed again, giving her a small wink, “I’ll see what I can do for you. I might be able to get in a good word with Her Majesty. Now, go on, you’d better get your mom to put more lotion on you before you burn.”

         They both shared a look as Kai ran over to Aiah, and Mikha smiled slightly, “things to look forward to, I suppose.”

         “You almost sound excited,” Jhoanna snorted, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

         “Yeah, well, I told you, I’m not a dick to children, and I guess the idea’s been growing on me,” Mikha murmured.

         Jhoanna leant over to kiss her on the cheek, and Mikha ducked her head slightly, her cheeks turning pink as she blushed, and Jhoanna quietly laughed. “What’s wrong?”

         Mikha laughed, wrinkling her nose slightly as she looked up at Jhoanna, “nothing, I just sometimes I’m still not used to just having someone kiss me for the sake of it. There’s no ulterior motives behind it - you just want to kiss me because you want to. It makes me ... happy.”

         Her expression softened as she gazed at Mikha, picking up her hand and placing a kiss to the back of it, before flipping it over and kissing her palm. “It’s not entirely selfless,” Jhoanna murmured in between kisses, as she kissed the other hand and then started peppering Mikha’s face with them too, “I just really want to kiss you everywhere, all the time.” 

         Mikha let out a squeal of laughter as Jhoanna kissed her on a ticklish part of her neck, jerking out of her reach as she laughed. “Come back, I’m not finished,” Jhoanna laughed following after her.

         “No! You know how I feel about being tickled,” Mikha protested, climbing to her feet.

         Jhoanna climbed to her feet too, with a small pout on her lips, “are the kisses not worth it?”

         “Well ... I’ve had better,” Mikha teased her, and Jhoanna gave her a look of mock offence, before running towards her. Mikha shot off down the deck, the wood warm beneath her feet, and Jhoanna followed closely after her, skirting the railing as they ran the length of the boat. She was about to say something, when she was tackled and went flying overboard, the cold sea closing in over her head and rushing into her mouth, which was open in shock.

         Resurfacing, Jhoanna spluttered, looking around to see who had tackled her into the water, while she ignored the sound of laughter coming from onboard the yacht. 

         A moment later a dark head broke the water, and Colet brushed her wet hair out of her face, giving Jhoanna a sheepish smile. 

         “Colet!?” Jhoanna exclaimed, her mouth falling open in surprise.

         “Sorry, Your Majesty, my bodyguard instinct kicked in when I saw the Princess being attacked,” Colet sombrely told her, her lips twitching at the corners as she tried to fight back a smile.

         Jhoanna scowled at her, paddling in place as she waited for the life ring to be thrown out to her, “Mikha put you up to this, didn’t she?” Colet shrugged innocently, biting her lip to hide her smile. “What did she offer you?”

         Laughing, Colet shrugged, “a week in the Bahamas.”

         Latching onto the life ring, Jhoanna looked at Colet and smiled, “I’ll make it two weeks if you push her in.” 

         Shrugging again, Colet hooked an arm through the ring too, and they were both towed back to safety by the bodyguards on board.

         Flipping back onto the deck in a pool of water, both of them climbed to their feet, and Jhoanna gave Mikha an exasperated look. “Really?”

         “Well after you tipped the rowboat again, it only seemed fair to keep up this tradition too,” Mikha smirked.

         Sighing, Jhoanna turned to Colet and gave her a smile, “if you please.”

         “Wha-“ Mikha started to uneasily say, sensing that something was wrong, but before she could even finish protesting what was about to happen, there was a splash as Colet prodded her overboard.

         She resurfaced coughing and spluttering, a dark scowl on her face as she looked up at Jhoanna, who was laughing, alongside everyone else, who had come to enjoy the show. “You’re an asshole, Your Majesty!” Mikha yelled.

         “You love it,” Jhoanna called back, giving her a bright smile as she tossed the life ring out to her.

         Back on deck again, a disgruntled and soggy looking Mikha glowered at Jhoanna, who was innocently smiling, before she turned to Colet and promptly pushed her back into the sea. 

         The rest of the afternoon turned into a battle, during which everyone managed to take at least one trip over the side of the boat, and true loyalties were tested and broken, when Aiah pushed Mikha overboard, and Yves pushed Jhoanna in to save her girlfriend. By the time they’d all exhausted themselves, the sun was setting, and wrapped in towels, they all sat in a line along the side facing west towards the horizon, watching as the sky turned a dozen shades of pink as they ate the sandwiches and cakes packed for them.

         Jhoanna’s hair was a salty tangle of curls, and Mikha’s was too, leaning it on Jhoanna’s shoulder as they sat side by side, and Jhoanna turned her head to kiss the top of them. Resting her head on top of Mikha’s, she stared out at the sunset, and let out a small sigh. 

         “What’s wrong?” Mikha murmured, reaching out to give Jhoanna’s knee a gentle squeeze.

         “Nothing,” Jhoanna quietly laughed, “it’s all perfect. I could stay here forever.”

 

 

---

 

         Almost everyone was sitting under the canopy of the tents, seeking the shade while the polo match raged on before then, but Jhoanna was too excited. She stood right near the fence, like she always did at Mikha’s matches, eagerly watching as her fiancé rode up and down on her black horse, knocking the ball about whenever her teammates sent it towards her. She was considerably smaller than everyone else, with her other teammates being Tricho and two of his friends, and the other team being made up of four men. Her white pants were neatly tucked into knee high boots, her knees were covered with little knee pads, and her shirt was black with a number one on her back, because even in polo, Mikha would never be less than number one. The only spot of colour was her dark teal helmet, which Jhoanna had bought her a few months ago when she’d insisted that Mikha needed to add more colour to her uniform; everyone else had more colourful helmets to help distinguish them, so Mikha should as well. Mikha had begrudgingly agreed, and now Jhoanna was content to keep her eyes on the teal helmet in the fray of horses as they raced back and forth, tearing up the grass while they chased after the ball.

         She held a glass of champagne in hand, and Sheena stood behind her, holding a parasol to shade Jhoanna from the bright sunlight. Only a few men were into the sport enough to crowd around the fence like Jhoanna, who was cheering solely for Mikha. Polo had never held much interest for her, but it was one of Mikha’s favourite pastimes, and so Jhoanna enjoyed it for her, learning not to stumble away from the fence when the players got a little too near, or wince when Mikha got bumped. A part of Jhoanna suspected that Mikha enjoyed it so much because that, and her martial arts lessons, was the only time people didn’t treat her like a delicate princess. She could be roughed up and sweaty and no one made any comments other than how well she had played. The light in her eyes after a game was always enough to make Jhoanna’s heart flutter a bit, enjoying the feeling of seeing Mikha so carefree.

         As she watched, Tricho scored another goal and soon after time was up. Jhoanna clapped along with everyone else, smiling brightly as she watched the players make their way off the field, knowing that Mikha would be happy and smug for the rest of the day. Patiently waiting for Mikha to come to her, Jhoanna sipped her champagne, squinting slightly at the harsh sunlight as she tried to spot Mikha near the mass of horses, which the stable hands were sorting out. 

         A moment later Mikha was rounding the fence, unfastening her helmet as she laughed at something Tricho said, and making her way over to Jhoanna. Draining her glass, Jhoanna handed it to Sheena and stepped out from under the shade of the parasol, taking a few steps towards the two players as they approached.

         “You played amazingly,” Jhoanna excitedly told Mikha, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek, making sure not to make things too public at such an event. It was fine in their own time in public, but not at social events with other people of their class, and Jhoanna was too nervous about getting them all talking about her disregard for their unspoken rules to even risk it. “Well done on that goal - it was incredible!”

         “You’re too kind,” Mikha laughed, tucking her helmet under her arm and brushing back her messy hair. She turned and accepted a glass of water off a nearby server, who offered the same to Tricho.

         Jhoanna turned to give him a smile, and he bowed slightly, returning it, “congratulations on the winning goal. It was well played, but then again, I should know that you two together are a force to be reckoned with.”

         “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Tricho said, “I can assure you, Mikha’s the brains behind it all. Us fellows are just the muscle.”

         “I can believe that,” Jhoanna laughed, giving Mikha a loving smile.

         Draining her water, Mikha shrugged slightly. “What can I say? I am smarter than everyone else. You’d be stupid not to listen to me.”

         “Mm, that’s how you tricked me into having this ring on my finger,” Jhoanna said, and Mikha rolled her eyes.

         “Please, who wouldn’t say yes to me? Anyone would be honoured to marry someone as brilliant and amazing as myself,” Mikha said, smirking at Jhoanna.

         “Don’t forget humble too,” Tricho supplied.

         Jhoanna muffled a laugh, biting back a smile as she watched Mikha delicately arch an eyebrow at her. “Why be humble when I know I’m right? Come on, Tricho, how many hands have I had to turn down?”

         “Oh?” Jhoanna innocently asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as she looked between the two of them, “and who did I have the privilege of beating?”

         “Well,” Mikha sighed, a thoughtful look on her face, “there was Josh’s friend when I was eighteen - the poor boy thought I would actually say yes. Then there was one of my father’s friend’s sons - I think I was twenty then - by god, he was beautiful, but I hardly knew him. Then ... I think it was twenty-three with Richard Guzman, right, Tricho?”

         “Richard Guzman?!” Jhoanna exclaimed, her jealousy growing with each name that fell past Mikha’s lips, “he’s at least twice your age!” She scowled slightly as Mikha laughed, a smirk gracing her lips.

         “He wanted himself a trophy wife, and what better trophy than a princess, right? I told him to bugger off though,” Mikha sighed, “then Deej asked me once after a wild night out we made it all the way to Vegas, but we were sober by the time we got there and realised what we were doing.”

         “Denise? You said you and Denise-” then Mikha and Tricho burst into laughter and Jhoanna blinked in surprise, “oh, you’re having me on, aren’t you? God, you’re the worst! I actually believed you for a second, you asshole.”

         “You were jealous, weren’t you?” Mikha asked, tilting her head to the side as she smiled up at Jhoanna. “Don’t worry - I never gave anyone a second look until I met you.”

         Tricho pressed a hand to his chest, “much to my pride’s displeasure. You know, I don’t think Mikha’s ever noticed how handsome I actually am. I might not be a prince, but with a face like this … I thought she never noticed because she didn’t wear her glasses around me, but apparently I’m not good enough.”

         “You’re as vain as the day we met, Tricho,” Mikha sighed, her lips curling up into a slight smile, “now, I need to shower and make myself presentable for tonight, or Jhoanna will have my head, so I’ll see you tonight.”

        “Of course,” Tricho readily agreed, “I would never turn down an invitation from Her Royal Majesty.” He gave Jhoanna a roguish wink, and she laughed, holding her hand out for him to take and bow slightly.

         “We’ll see you tonight then.”

---

         They pulled up to the gallery to the sight of flashing lights from the cameras, and Jhoanna smiled brightly as she stepped out of the car, giving the press a quick wave, before holding her hand out to help Mikha out. They both wore expensive dresses, and around Jhoanna’s wrist was a priceless diamond bracelet off Mikha – a surprise gift for her to wear to the party. Of course, she didn’t know that it wasn’t a party, but she’d given Jhoanna a gift all the same, and Jhoanna hoped that her gift would be just as priceless, despite the fact that if it was given a price, it wouldn’t have been up in the millions. 

         Stepping onto the red carpet, they smiled for the cameras, before walking over to start greeting some of the people waiting behind the barricades. Jhoanna shook countless hands, knowing that the cameras were capturing every moment of it, until her security started getting a bit fidgety at her being exposed for so long, and urged her to go inside the building. 

         Relenting, mostly to relieve Mikha of the tedious job of keeping an overly bright smile in place while she conducted her role as a gracious princess well, they both disappeared into the foyer of the gallery. It was small and plain, and they were soon waved through to the main area of the gallery, which was almost as bare, aside from the dozens of pieces hanging on the walls. Little lights illuminated each tiny sketch, with small cards next to each one, describing it in a sentence. Jhoanna had painstakingly gone through the effort of writing each one herself, knowing her own sketches better than anyone else, having never shared them with anyone other than Mikha and Yves, and she was pleased to see how many people had turned up for the gallery opening.

         “Who’s the artist again?” Mikha asked, her eyes locking on the first sketch as she propelled them towards it, eagerly hoping to find someone else’s art that she could admire and collect.

         “Ah, well, see,” Jhoanna nervously rambled, “this is actually a, uh, shall we call it an engagement gift? See, I’m the artist, and you’re my muse.”

         Mikha sharply looked up at her, her eyes wide with surprise, “this is your gallery opening?”

         Nodding, Jhoanna gave her a shy smile, “I wanted the world to see you how I do. They’re not for sale – of course – but I have ones throughout our entire relationship, and I wanted to showcase it. I hope that’s okay. I should’ve asked, but I wanted it to be a surprise for you as well.”

         She nervously waited for Mikha’s reply, taking in the narrowed eyes on her fiancé’s face as she studied the closest sketch. It was the hazy likeness of Mikha in the wingback chair in Jhoanna’s private sitting room, her knees drawn up to her chest and her fingers splayed across the cover of a book as she intently read, her brows low over her eyes and her dark hair falling into her face. 

         Mikha turned around, scanning the vast room and taking in the vast number of sketches carefully framed on the walls, before she looked back at Jhoanna. “I didn’t realize you had so many.”

         “You’re all I’ve drawn for months,” Jhoanna murmured, reaching out to cup Mikha’s cheek and gently run her thumb across her cheekbone. They slowly drifted away from that sketch, moving towards another one and accepting the glasses of champagne brought over to them. 

         There was Mikha again, this time kneeling in a flowerbed as she tended to her carefully cultivated roses, a pair of garden shears in a gloved hand, and a perfect rose being guided to her nose as she leant in to smell it, a faint smile playing on her lips. There were endless sketches of her doing various things, and each one plainly showed the painstakingly care that each one had been drawn with – even the rough sketches of various body parts; the delicate arch of her neck, her slender fingers, her perfect mouth curved into a smirk. 

         Each sketch spoke of their love for Mikha, far before Jhoanna had even known she loved her.

         “I love it,” Mikha softly told her, her eyes shining slightly, “thank you. You were definitely right when you said that if you were allowed, you could be very romantic – if only I’d known back then. Now I only wish I could show you how I feel in some way like this, but I can’t draw a straight line.”

         Jhoanna’s face softened as she stared lovingly at Mikha, reaching out to pick up her hand and kiss the back of it, before she drifted towards their friends, who she could see were waiting for them so that they could congratulate Jhoanna on the success of her gallery opening. “You do every day, just by being with me, because I know how hard that was for you to do at the beginning. Thank you for choosing me.”

         Letting out a quiet laugh, Mikha smiled up at her, “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. Now there’s only one thing left to do to make sure you know that.”

         “Oh? And what’s that?” Jhoanna asked, stopping in her tracks and tilting her head to the side as she curiously stared at Mikha, wondering what she had in store for them.

         Leaning up to quickly kiss her on the tip of her nose, Mikha pulled back and laughed again. “Now we have to get married.”

 

 

---

 

         The media had been flooded with rumours and speculation for weeks leading up to the wedding; would the royals be wearing dresses or their military dress uniforms? Was it true that Mikha had ordered ten thousand doves to be released out over the city after the ceremony? (She had assured Jhoanna that it wasn’t true – it was only a thousand, which was perfectly reasonable.) And who was invited, and who wasn’t. By the time the week of the wedding rolled around, Mikha had almost decided to call it quits and secretly fly them to Vegas and elope, because a month of endless news about the event was almost enough to turn her off weddings for life.

         Both of them were willing to admit that the endless planning had been tedious, even if they tried to make it fun, but they were making a statement. It was going to potentially be the biggest wedding of the century, with its live broadcast to the whole world, and the most lavish decorations for it. No one would doubt their love and commitment to each other. 

         Jhoanna had been surprised when Mikha had argued for bigger and better for everything, having assumed that Mikha would want a small, intimate wedding, but when she realized that Mikha wanted it as big and expensive as possible, she didn’t have to ask to know why. It didn’t matter how their relationship had started – it didn’t matter why – they fell in love on their own, and the whole occasion was going to be a giant fuck you to everyone involved in the contract, because they had done this on their own. Jhoanna was all too willing to oblige.

         They’d spent months going over cake decorations, and debating whether ten tiers were too many, and whether vanilla was too boring. There were endless meetings with designers, until they found the perfect one to help them individually design their dresses, while making sure they complemented each other’s. Almost every day for a month they’d have the most prominent chefs in the world come to the palace to make them food, in the hopes that they’d be the one to have the honour of catering for the wedding. 

         It had been good practice for the both of them, with the constant media attention, and they had come out on top of it, despite everyone’s initial reservations. No matter if people said they would crack under the pressure, or they hadn’t been together long enough, they had ignored them, and carried on together, and eventually the day of the wedding rolled around.

         Jhoanna wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t nervous – she knew Mikha would pretend she wasn’t, even though she was – and she couldn’t help but fidget with her engagement ring as she sat before the vanity, having her hair perfectly curled and pinned into place. The thought of cameras on her was nerve wracking, and although it had been the same at her coronation, this time she not only had to make sure she didn’t fall, but she had to pretend that she wasn’t nervous that Mikha wasn’t going to show up. It was a foolish thought, and she knew it, but it was that tiny nagging voice in the back of her mind that wouldn’t go away, even though she knew that Mikha was going to be there, maybe dressed in white, but possibly in something outrageously black and gothic, just to piss off the church. Jhoanna would think it was funny though, even if it made her groan, and she would marry her in rags and still think Mikha was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. No matter what, they were getting married today, and Jhoanna silently prayed that it all went off without a hitch.

         “Stop fidgeting!” Yves scolded her as she walked in, her hair in rollers and a silk, ivory dressing gown tied at the waist, “you’re going to pass out if you hyperventilate like that down the aisle.”

         “Let’s see if you’re so blasé when you’re walking down the aisle yourself,” Jhoanna said, giving her an exasperated look.

         Yves laughed as she walked over to her, standing just out of the way of the woman doing her hair, so she wouldn’t interfere, “I won’t be on national television – wait, worldwide television.”

         “Thanks, that’s helping so much,” Jhoanna grumbled, pressing her lips together in a grim line. “Did you get in touch with Gwen?”

          “I did one better,” Yves smiled, “Mikha spared me a moment.”

         Jhoanna whipped her head around, apologizing to the stylist, who let out a small sound of complaint at the abrupt movement, “what’d she say?”

         Letting out a quick laugh, Yves gave her a slow smile, “your fiancé made it very clear that if you don’t walk down the aisle today, she’ll most likely be in prison after funding the next assassination attempt on your life … so I think you can worry less about her doing a runner. She also told me to tell you to take a deep breath and calm down, because she doesn’t want to marry you if you have wrinkles before thirty. Personally, I think she has a point – I’m surprised you haven’t turned grey with all the worrying about the planning.”

         “You’re both hilarious,” Jhoanna dryly replied, smiling slightly, “did she say anything else?”

         “She loves you,” Yves said, “and she looks hot. Well, she didn’t say that – I added it – but as if she’s not going to look great, right? Just some motivation for you, in case your feet are getting a little bit cold.”

         Scoffing, Jhoanna rolled her eyes, “please, as if I’ve ever wanted anything more. If I had to wait a day longer, I think I’d end up taking her up on the elopement offer.”

         “Okay Miss ‘we have to get married in the cathedral because only God is above me’, as if you would ever elope,” Yves snorted with laughter.

         “It’s tradition!” Jhoanna protested, “and what’s expected of me.”

         “Yeah, yeah, we know you’re the model Queen. I’m still surprised Mikha agreed though – she’s never been traditional or done what was expected of her - but then again, she picked you,” Yves said, rolling her eyes.

         Jhoanna smiled at the words; Mikha had picked her. Despite their bickering and arguing, and their differences of opinions, they had been perfect for each other, and they’d been lucky enough to realize that before it was too late. It had been over two years since they’d first started pretending to be in love, and it was laughable at how they’d been around each other at the beginning, compared to where they were now, and sometimes they wondered how no one had realized it was fake. Everything they’d done together before was so different to how things had been since they’d gotten together – now their love was for themselves, rather than the public. 

         Even though they still had their royal duties – which Mikha begrudgingly agreed to, for Jhoanna’s sake – they spent less time in front of the cameras, and more time enjoying themselves with their friends and family. Everything else had come naturally, and they’d settled down so easily, that sometimes it felt like they’d known each other their entire lives – loved each other their whole lives. If anything, they were able to appreciate the fact that they’d been thrown off the deep end at the beginning, because without that, they would never have willingly spent enough time together to learn all of the little things about them that they’d grown to love over the course of the insufferable situations they’d been forced into. They wouldn’t be getting married right now.

         “Hey, stop daydreaming or you’re going to be late,” Yves said, gently nudging Jhoanna, “and by the sounds of things, your bride has a sniper waiting in the wings.”

         Laughing, Jhoanna looked at herself in the mirror, gently touching the dark curls and watching as a few more diamond hair pins secured it all into place. Her makeup was already finished, which just left getting dressed, and Jhoanna climbed to her feet and walked over to the white dress, which was hanging up in a bag on a rack. Undoing the zip, she took in the white, and an excited smile spread across her face as she looked at it. It was plain in the front, because the ceremony was doubling as Mikha’s coronation too, which meant that there was going to be other official regalia worn, and Jhoanna didn’t want to be too over the top. She was helped into it by Yves and Sheena, and Jhoanna admired it in the mirror, while her sister did up a row of pearl buttons on the back. It was plain white satin, beautifully cut so that it fell down the floor, giving her a little bit of a skirt, without looking puffy, and long sleeves – their shoulders had to be covered in the cathedral. The back was mostly a fine lace, decorated with floral patterns, and the row of pearls down the back. It was expensively understated, but there was no doubt that it would’ve cost a fortune, and looked beautiful on Jhoanna.

         “Does this count as old, borrowed and blue?” Yves asked as she helped Jhoanna put on a deep blue sash, cutting the plain white in half as it fell from shoulder to hip, before turning to take one of the family orders out of the slim wooden box that Sheena held open nearby. They were neatly pinned onto the sash, alongside Jhoanna’s military medals and other awards, and she ran a hand over the sash as she looked down at the silver and diamonds.

         “Not borrowed – this is my sash. It’s new too,” Jhoanna shrugged.

         “Perfect!” Yves said, smiling as she turned to accept the small velvet box that Louise carried over with a smile. She opened the box and Jhoanna’s face split into a wide smile as she looked down at the pair of earrings nestled inside.

         Louise gave her a warm smile as Jhoanna looked at her, “they were given to me by my father on my own wedding day. I know you have your family’s ring, but you’re also my family, and I’d like you to wear them too.”

         Jhoanna blinked back tears as she wrapped her in a hug, giving her a grateful squeeze, “thank you, Louise. You’ve been the best mother I could’ve asked for, and I’m so grateful to you for everything you’ve done for me.”

         “I only wish your parents were here for this,” Louise said, giving Jhoanna’s cheek an affectionate pat when they pulled back, “I think they’d be very proud of you. I am too.”

         Nodding as she swallowed the lump in her throat, she took one of the earrings off Yves and put it on, and then the other. After that, she was guided to a chair, where the diamond encrusted tiara was carefully placed on the top of her head, before the veil was attached behind it.

         “And lastly, this is from Mikha,” Yves said, procuring another velvet jewelry box, which she opened to reveal a small card that partially covered the necklace inside. Plucking the card out of the box, Jhoanna quickly read over the elegant writing and let out a quiet laugh.

 

Just a small gift for you to wear today. I already know it’ll look beautiful on you

-M x

 

         Looking down at the thin row of diamonds, Jhoanna let out another laugh, because just one look at it let her know it was worth millions, and of course Mikha would call it a small gift. Taking it out of the box, Jhoanna held it up to her throat and turned around, and Yves brushed her veil aside to fasten the choker for her. All the while, Jhoanna couldn’t help but wonder if Mikha liked the one she’d sent her just as much as she loved this one.

         “Okay,” Yves said, resting her hands on Jhoanna’s shoulders and spinning her around, “are you ready?”

         Taking a deep breath, Jhoanna nodded, “I think so. Dress. Tiara. Shoes. Ooh, the bouquet-“

         “On the table,” Yves interjected.

         “Right. Gwen remembered the rings?”

         “Sheena double checked with her already,” Yves said, spritzing Jhoanna with some expensive perfume from the vanity, before doing the same for herself. 

         “Do you want me to sneak you a mint before we go? You know, for the big kiss.” Laughing, Jhoanna opened her mouth, and Yves tossed two in and tapped her chin for her to close her mouth. 

         “Mom, do you have everything?”

         Louise nodded, and picked up Jhoanna’s bouquet for her, smiling brightly as she looked at her two daughters. “God, you’ve both grown up so fast. Coronations and weddings – soon there’ll be christenings too.”

         “Okay, we’re trying to get her down the aisle, mom,” Yves laughed, “not frighten her away from her bride with the thought of motherhood before thirty. She’s still got a few more years to have fun.

         Jhoanna gave Yves a gentle nudge, wrinkling her nose at her sister, before her face split into a wide smile. “Well, it looks like you need to get a move on then,” Jhoanna murmured, jerking her head towards Colet.

         Blushing slightly, Yves leant in close, “I’m working on it. No announcements while there’s already a royal thing going on in the family and all of that. I didn’t want to steal your spotlight.” She gave Jhoanna a quick wink, and Jhoanna’s eyes widened in surprise. Things with Colet had been going great for Yves, and, if anything, hearing that Yves was planning on proposing only made Jhoanna feel even more impossibly happy. 

         She gave her sister’s hand a squeeze, and a warm smile, before she looked up at Sheena, who was holding out a bouquet of flowers. They were pale shades of blush, nude and white, and Jhoanna tightly held it in her hand, almost unable to believe that she was actually getting married. It felt like she’d been waiting forever for this moment, and the slow lead up to it had been torturously sweet, and Jhoanna had cherished every moment, but she could hardly contain her excitement at the fact that the day was finally here.

         With a few last minute touch ups, they were ready to go, and Jhoanna threw her shoulders back as she made for the door, which was opened by the bodyguards who bowed slightly. Everyone fell into step behind her as she swept down the hallway, the skirts of her dress trailing slightly behind her, and her pulse racing as her nerves and excitement grew. There were a few photographers at different points throughout the palace, and there were dozens of photos before Jhoanna descended the grand staircase and made it onto the stretch of red carpet leading towards the towering front doors. As her maid of honour, Yves left first, with Louise, to make their entrance before Jhoanna and Mikha did. 

         Neither of them had fathers to walk them down the aisle, and while Jhoanna had Louise, she’d decided that they should both walk down the aisle by themselves, to avoid questions about why Martha or Josh wasn’t doing the same for Mikha – she wouldn’t want either of them to walk her down the aisle. It had taken a lot of convincing on Jhoanna’s part to even get Mikha to invite them, and there had been many compromises throughout the whole planning; that was just another one.

         With some more wishes of good luck, Jhoanna watched as her sister and adoptive mother disappeared through the front doors to the sound of excited shouts, before walking into a side room to wait for her turn. Mikha would be leaving before Jhoanna, having stayed in a different wing in the palace last night, to make sure they didn’t bump into each other this morning. A detailed schedule had been drawn up to ensure that there was plenty of time in between the comings and goings of each other, so that they wouldn’t tempt fate with the breaking of traditions – they didn’t need anymore bad luck. 

         Nervously pacing and back and forth, Jhoanna could barely hold back the urge to open the door and peek out into the hallway, because she knew that any moment now, Mikha would be walking down in her own dress, and it was almost unbearable to have to wait a little while longer to see her. Restraining herself, Jhoanna fiddled with the bouquet in her hands and thought about Mikha, smiling to herself as her heart fluttered in her chest. Nothing in the world would keep her from that cathedral – from walking towards the woman she loved more than anyone else in the world

         It was another five minutes before a man dressed in the household guard uniform opened the door, and bowed slightly, standing aside for Jhoanna to pass by him. She could still hear the crowd screaming from Mikha’s departure, and she brushed a hand against the skirts of her dress, drawing in a shaky breath as she walked towards the towering doors. At a nod to the guards standing at the doors, they parted to reveal the steps leading down to the courtyard, lined by soldiers in red uniforms, who all saluted as Jhoanna slowly walked down the steps to the thunderous applause and cheers from the enormous crowd pressing up and gathered around the palace walls. 

         The flag of Amity, and the royal crest of the House of Robles was everywhere – on banners, flags and merchandise – and helicopters flew around overhead, televising the whole thing, while cameras flashed in the crowd as photographers took photos, and reporters filmed the whole thing live. The military and police were crawling around the place, making sure that the day went off without a hitch, and Jhoanna didn’t pause as she made her way down the the lavish horse-drawn carriage waiting for her, knowing that she didn’t have the best track record with being out in the open for public celebrations. It would be just her luck to get shot on her wedding day – apparently by Mikha, if she didn’t hurry up and meet her at the altar. A footman opened the carriage door for her, holding a hand out to help Jhoanna up the couple of steps, and Jhoanna settled herself down on the plush bench, peering out of the window as the door was shut and the footman took his place on the back of the carriage. 

         With a command, the horses were urged into motion, and the carriage was pulled along behind them, with Jhoanna’s excitement growing as they made their way towards the gates. They parted, and the military kept the crowd back as the carriage passed between them.

         The straight line from the palace gates to the doors of the cathedral was clear, except for the household guard escort, and a few police on motorbikes. Mikha would already be inside by now, waiting for her at the altar, feeling just as excited as Jhoanna was, and maybe a little nervous too, even though she wouldn’t admit it. Jhoanna couldn’t help but smile to herself in the back of the carriage at the thought, occasionally leaning forward to tentatively wave to the crowds of people lining the road. She was blinded by the camera flashes whenever she poked her head forward, and knew that there were already hundreds of photos of her online – and Mikha too. If she had a phone, she could’ve checked to see what she was wearing, to see how beautiful she looked and see what everyone was saying about her. Instead, she was left fidgeting in her seat, anxiously awaiting the moment that she would see her.

         It was fifteen minutes before the carriage drew up in front of the cathedral doors, and the footman hopped down off the back, opening the door and offering Jhoanna a hand as she ducked her head and stepped out of the carriage. The shouts were almost deafening, and she felt her nerves grow as she smiled, reaching the red carpet rolled out to meet her and watching as some military personnel saluted, while other important people bowed and curtsied. 

         Without hesitation, Jhoanna made her way into the interior of the cathedral, staring at the closed doors that separated her from Mikha, her family, and hundreds of people. Yves had already walked down the aisle, along with Aiah, as the two maids of honour, followed by Mikha, which just left her. Taking a deep breath, Jhoanna held the bouquet in front of her, and threw her shoulders back, giving the soldiers at the doors a quick nod.

         They parted, and Jhoanna took a step forward, before faltering slightly. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, but she had her contacts in, and in the sea of faces, all she could see was Mikha – or rather, the back of her – and it was enough to make Jhoanna stop in her tracks, as a smile spread across her face. The inside of the cathedral was decorated with thousands of flowers, and a choir was singing, accompanied by an old church organ, and every pair of eyes, except one, was on her, but it all faded to nothing, and Jhoanna had to tell herself to go slow and steady, before she tripped over her dress in her haste. 

         Walking over the carpet of petals that Kai must’ve left on her way down, before her mom, Jhoanna couldn’t keep the smile off her face, and not just because she knew she was being filmed, with millions of eyes around the world on her right now. She couldn’t help but wonder how Mikha was feeling about the whole ordeal – she knew Mikha would’ve preferred a private ceremony, but it seemed a bit redundant with the fact that they were trying to be as over the top as possible. Mikha had willingly agreed to it though, when it had been suggested, if only so the whole world could see the lengths they had gone to to showcase their love. 

         Still, it was unnerving to know that every moment was being documented and criticized, for the whole world to see, yet Jhoanna didn’t care at all. All she could think about was how she was about to marry the love of her life - against all odds, and despite everything - and with each step closer, Jhoanna felt her happiness grow, until she was on the verge of tears by the time she reached the altar, handing her bouquet off to Yves, who was looking a little emotional.

         As she took her place beside Mikha, they both turned towards each other, and she saw an identical tearful smile on Mikha’s face, even though she’d sternly made Jhoanna promise that neither of them would cry. They couldn’t help it though, and Jhoanna slowly reached out to lift the veil covering Mikha’s face, before Mikha did the same for her, her fingers tracing the side of her face as she drew her hands back. Then she held her hand out, waiting for Mikha to place her own in it, as they gazed at each other. Jhoanna couldn’t say what Mikha’s dress looked like, or where the cameras were, or even hear what was being said – she couldn’t focus on anything except Mikha’s face, and how beautiful she looked, and she had to blink back tears as she gave her a helpless smile.         

         “You look so beautiful,” Jhoanna quietly choked out, unsure whether she was allowed to talk during this part of the ceremony, but unable to stop herself.

         “So do you,” Mikha murmured, giving Jhoanna’s hand a quick squeeze as she smiled widely, blinking back some tears of her own.

         Realising that the Minister was starting a call to worship, she bit back the urge to say anything else, or duck her head and steal a quick kiss, and turned her eyes forward. Holding tightly onto Mikha’s hand, she snuck glances at her, smiling when she caught Mikha doing the same, and they both ducked their heads and closed their eyes, behaving themselves in front of the crowd of cameras and the congregation. As soon as the prayer was finished, the Minister asked the congregation to be seated, and Jhoanna was aware of Yves standing to her left, while the room was filled with the quiet sounds of people sitting down. 

         Typically, their father’s would’ve given them away at that point, but as both of them were avoiding that, they went straight to the rings. Jhoanna pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh as she watched Kai untie the wedding rings from the bow tied around Aoife’s neck, as the very large Irish Wolfhound patiently sat beside her, tongue lolling as she happily wagged her tail. Mikha had insisted that she be the ring bearer, if only to do something completely disapproving to almost everyone present, yet not entirely too outlandish to be seen as too unconventional. Jhoanna had thought it would be cute, and was glad that having her dog run the rings down the aisle was as rebellious as Mikha got these days – she silently prayed that there were no unsuspecting surprises – and had been all too willing to agree. 

         Handing a ring to Yves and Aiah, Kai walked over to the empty chair at the front, whispering for Aoife to sit beside her, having finished her own part in the ceremony.

         The charge was quick, with the Minister briefly covering the duties and roles that both women would undertake in their marriage, before making Jhoanna and Mikha both declare to the guests and witnesses that they were there of their own free will. By the slight smirk on Mikha’s lips as she peeked at Jhoanna, they were both thinking about what they would’ve said here if their circumstances had been different, but much to their luck, they were there of their own free will. 

         Upon finishing their declarations, both girls turned to face each other, and they both joined their other hands, unable to keep the smiles off their faces as they stared at each other, with Jhoanna just a few inches taller. Then came the vows, which were traditional and completely unchanged, except to remove the line about obeying each other – Jhoanna was a queen, and it wasn’t like Mikha would listen to her anyway, so it made the line redundant – and they both repeated them after the Minister, choking slightly on their words as their eyes burned with tears. As Jhoanna finished off her own vows, she gave Mikha a wide smile, her dark brown eyes crinkling at the corners as she rubbed soothing circles into the back of Mikha’s hands.

         “The rings,” the Minister said, gesturing to Yves and Aiah, who placed the rings they held into each bride’s hand. Jhoanna smiled down at the small silver band nestled in the middle of her palm, before she looked up at Mikha, taking her left hand in her own and slowly sliding the ring onto her wedding finger, until it found its home above the engagement ring already there. A tear slid down Mikha’s cheek as she watched Jhoanna put the ring on her finger, and Jhoanna let out a quiet, tearful laugh as she quickly reached out to wipe it away, before letting Mikha take her left hand in her own, gently cradling it, before slipping a ring onto Jhoanna’s finger. She laughed then too, wiping away one of Jhoanna’s stray tears with an almost smug smile on her face that was so typically Mikha that it made Jhoanna want to roll her eyes.

         A quick communion service followed the exchanging of their rings, as their first official act as a married couple, and as Jhoanna crossed her chest, watching Mikha mimic the accent off to her right, she couldn’t help but smile. 

         Any second now, the Minister was going to pronounce them wed, and her heart was already pounding at the thought of it – at the thought of her kissing Mikha in front of everyone gathered. Out of all of their public kisses, this one meant the most, and was more intimate than anything else, yet Jhoanna couldn’t wait. Sneaking another peek at Mikha out of the corner of her eyes, Jhoanna smiled, listening to the Minister’s last words ring out loud and clear for everyone to hear.

         “I pronounce them to be wife and wife, in the name of the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.” Jhoanna could almost feel Mikha resisting the urge to roll her eyes at all the religious stuff, and she knew that they both would’ve opted to skip it if they’d had the chance, but they couldn’t deviate too much from doing what was proper, and it didn’t matter now anyway. They’d just been declared married, and neither of them cared which religion they’d just bound themselves to each other under, because they were married. “You may now kiss your bride.”

         They came together in unison, hands cupping cheeks and lips urgently seeking each other’s, and if it wasn’t for the crowd of guests watching, the kiss would’ve been a lot more inappropriate for the setting. Still, the feeling of Mikha’s warm lips softly pressed against her own was enough to make Jhoanna melt where she stood, and she smiled at the feeling of Mikha smiling into the kiss as well. They pulled back to the sound of applause, and they both laughed as Jhoanna ducked down to quickly steal another kiss.

         Unable to stop smiling, they turned around, hand in hand, taking in the sight of their close friends and family crying, and other important people and acquaintances, who also seemed to be overcome with emotions, and they both took their bouquets back of their respective maids of honour, before they walked down the aisle. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had a straight clear path to the doors, they probably would’ve bumped into someone or tripped, because they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. The only thing that was enough to break them out of their enraptured staring was the sound of the crowd outside, which couldn’t even be swallowed by the sound of the bells, which had been tolling at the top of the cathedral since the moment they’d kissed. 

         A different carriage was waiting for them this time – one with a soft-top roof, which was folded down, and decorated with flowers and ribbon – and they were both helped into it, taking their seats side by side and leaning into each other as they laughed. Aoife had obediently padded along behind them, and jumped up into the carriage too, happily sitting on the floor as she looked around at the people packed into the courtyard outside the cathedral.

         “I love you,” Jhoanna said, her lips brushing Mikha’s ear as she made herself heard over the loud cheers.

         Mikha drew back slightly, her eyes shining with happiness as the white horses were whipped into motion, “I love you too.”

         They both fell into laughter again, smiling brightly and waving to the gathered crowds, while they held their bouquets in their laps and had their other hands entwined. It was a slightly slower chariot ride back to the palace, but they were both elated and somewhat smug as they each paraded their new wife before the world, their matching rings shining on their ring fingers. They were giddy with excitement as they made it back through the palace gates, and up the front steps, taking a few moments to pose on the top of the red carpet before the doors, sneaking in a quick kiss for the public, before they were whisked away inside.

         Next came Mikha’s coronation, and they were led straight to the throne room, being saluted by guards as they passed by, cameras following close behind. Upon arrival at the throne room, Jhoanna was seated on the small throne waiting for her at the top of the steps, while Mikha hovered to her right, both of them gazing at each other while they waited for their distinguished guests to arrive. 

         “So, you’re my wife now,” Jhoanna conversationally said, trying unsuccessfully to bite back a smile, “and here I thought you said you’d never marry me.”

         Mikha shrugged slightly, bending down a little, “you said the same thing, if you remember correctly. Also, I’ve been known to be wrong upon occasion. Only on occasion though – don’t get used to it.”

         “I, for one, am glad that you’re wrong … upon occasion,” Jhoanna said, wrinkling her nose as she smiled up at Mikha. “Quick, kiss me, before we have to behave ourselves.”

         Laughing, Mikha ducked her head, her fingers warm as she tilted Jhoanna’s head up, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Behave? Well that sounds utterly boring.”

         “Welcome to marriage,” Jhoanna laughed, stealing another kiss.

         “Now that sounds like it’s going to be very exciting,” Mikha smirked, suggestively arching an eyebrow at Jhoanna, “any trouble you’d like to get into first?”

          “You’ve given me enough trouble for a lifetime,” Jhoanna sighed, kissing the back of Mikha’s hand, “and I can’t wait for enough for an eternity. Just try not to do anything scandalous within the next five minutes, or the next state event I’ll be going to will be your funeral.”

         Holding a hand to her heart with a look of mock offence on her face, Mikha gasped, “you’re going to widow yourself after less than an hour of marriage? Am I that insufferable?”

         “Definitely,” Jhoanna murmured, “it’s one of the things I love about you.”

         With a heavy sigh, Mikha reached out to brush a stray piece of hair out of Jhoanna’s face, “maybe now that we’re married, you’ll finally tell me about all of these things you love about me. I’m terribly vain, so please don’t wait too long.”

         “Darling,” Jhoanna sighed, “I couldn’t even begin to tell you about them all. There’s way too many, and it would make your head too big for your crown, which would be sad, because it looks like we’re about to start your coronation.”

         Upon the last few people invited to this part of the ceremony squeezing into the room, Jhoanna climbed to her feet, and Mikha followed along beside her, until she stood before Jhoanna, with a small smile on her face. 

         Camera flashes from various points in the room alerted them to the presence of photographers and reporters, and Jhoanna had to stop herself from laughing when she saw the nervous look on Mikha’s face – she’d told her she didn’t have to go through with a coronation to be a princess again, knowing how much Mikha hated monarchies, but she’d scoffed at Jhoanna’s words, and insisted that she have the same title that she’d held since birth. She was a princess through and through.

         A few members of Jhoanna’s cabinet came forward, dressed in their official cloaks, with one of them carrying a red cloak trimmed in white spotted fur, careful not to let it drag on the floor, while another came forward with a gaudy crown, encrusted with jewels. Others held ceremonial swords upright, while others held pillows with more official objects, and Jhoanna couldn’t help but think back to her own coronation. If she was being honest, this one was a thousand times better. 

         A week ago, Mikha had renounced her claim to the throne in Aeternus, along with her title, with Jhoanna bestowing upon her a duchy for the land and titles that her own parents had laid claim to, and would’ve been Jhoanna’s, if not for the change in circumstances, making Mikha the Duchess of Lacuna, and soon to be princess of a different country. 

         Mikha slowly sank to one knee on a small plush stool placed before Jhoanna, and a blue sash, identical to the one Jhoanna was wearing, was brought forward and draped around her, already bearing an assortment of medals. Next a man brought forth a ring held on a velvet pillow, and Jhoanna slipped it onto the ring finger of Mikha’s right hand, a mirror to the ones on her left, and they both smiled as she did so. Then came a sword, slung across her shoulder to waist, forming an x with the sash, before Jhoanna handed her a golden scepter. as the cloak was draped around her shoulders, she tilted her head up, smiling up at Jhoanna as she carefully did the ribbon up to secure it in place.

         “As Her Royal Majesty, Queen Jhoanna, I am pleased to give and to grant unto her Royal Highness, the Duchess of Lacuna, the style and titular dignity of a princess of Amity. The Duchess of Lacuna shall henceforth be known as Her Royal Highness, the Princess Mikha, Duchess of Lacuna,” Jhoanna proclaimed to the hall, her voice loud and clear as she spoke for all of the titled and important guests gathered to hear. She’d started speaking as she picked up the crown, and as she finished, she gently set it down upon Mikha’s dark hair, a smile on her lips as a pair of chocolate brown eyes met her own.

         Standing, Mikha took Jhoanna’s outstretched hand, and together they ascended the few steps leading up to two small thrones, wrought in red velvet and gold, with their initials embossed in the back of them, and sat in their own respectively. 

         Turning to look at Mikha, she met her eyes, and gave her hand a squeeze as she smiled lovingly at her. They didn’t have to say anything – their love for each other was all there in their eyes, so clear for everyone to see. 

         As people politely applauded and the cameras flashed, they only had eyes for each other. 

         Mikha’s lips quirked up into an almost mocking smile as she stared back at Jhoanna, one eyebrow sarcastically raised, “Your Majesty.”

         Suppressing an exasperated sigh, Jhoanna shook her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips, “Your Highness.”

Notes:

Long live the Queen and the Princess of Amity!

Thanks so much for reading. Sana natuwa kayo kahit converted fic lang sya. Minahal ko na yan sila Queen Jhoanna and Princess Mikha. I might also convert the sequel but kailangan ko pa ire-read hahaha.

2,3 thank you po! Happy holidays! #jhomikharoyals

Notes:

Send lostariels some love on X and tumblr. Check out her other works as well here in AO3.