Chapter Text
“Princess, we need to leave immediately.”
Jhoanna looked up from her notebook, frowning at her bodyguard, who was stood at the edge of her desk, one hand unbuttoning the fitted suit jacket and resting on the gun holstered at her hip. Eyes widening slightly behind the lenses of her glasses, Jhoanna scrambled to gather up her papers and notebooks, shoving them in her bag and climbing to her feet. The other students in the library didn’t give her a second look as her bodyguard grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her out of the building, casting a wary look around at all of the other students.
“Colet, what’s wrong?” Jhoanna asked, stumbling as she tried to keep up with the relentless pace that her bodyguard set.
“I’m not sure, princess. I have orders to return you to the palace as soon as possible,” Colet said, her eyes darting back and forth as she made for the inconspicuous black car parked on the sidewalk. It would’ve been illegal for anyone else, but being the princess of Amity afforded Jhoanna some privileges and in this case, Colet was grateful at the closeness of the car. She opened the back door for Jhoanna, pushing her head down so that Jhoanna was forced to duck as she was bundled into the back of the car.
Safe behind the bulletproof glass and armoured car, Jhoanna buckled her seatbelt as Colet quickly got into the driver’s seat and had them speeding out of the university with a loud screech as the wheels fought for grip. Tearing down the street, Colet merged into traffic, weaving in and out of cars at an alarming speed that had Jhoanna holding onto the door handle to brace herself for the abrupt movements. Jhoanna rarely went to the palace – it wasn’t her home – and she was confused as to why she had been disturbed from her studies to go and visit her grandfather. She really only ever saw him for official national business to do with Amity, which usually came around at holiday’s or memorial services. Today, it was neither of those, and she had gone to campus to meet her supervisor and work on her doctorate.
The trip to the palace was quick with the speed that Colet drove, and Colet spoke into her earpiece as they approached the side gates, which opened to let them into the western courtyard. Pulling up outside the side doors of the squat, sprawling yellow stoned palace, Colet turned the engine off and climbed out, telling Jhoanna to stay put until she let her out.
Patiently waiting in the back, Jhoanna watched as Colet rounded the car and opened the door for her, sheltering her as best as she could with her short stature. One hand on Jhoanna’s back, Colet propelled her up the few steps and in through the huge front doors, which had been pulled open to expose the lavishly decorated entryway. As Jhoanna looked back over her shoulder, she could see a dozen camera flashes outside the front gates, and what looked to be a dozen more reporters with them, and knew that there would be many more outside the front gates. Ignoring them, she turned back around, the doors shutting behind her as she walked along the red carpet rolled down the corridor. Everything was decorated in white gilded with gold, and dark wood, and the colours of the House of Robles were everywhere.
Making her way to the end of the hall, Jhoanna turned to the left, bypassing the staircase as she made for the throne room, where two guards in red uniforms nodded respectfully as they opened the doors for her as she approached. She walked inside, stopping when she saw a few people in a cluster, and blinked in surprise. Yves was already here, along with Louise, and they were deep in conversation with the Prime Minister, Charo Santos, and Jhoanna’s aunt, Kathryn. Her grandfather was nowhere to be seen, and Jhoanna paused at the look of concern on everyone’s faces. Everyone fell silent as she slowly walked closer, a furrow forming between her eyebrows as she watched them all dip into curtsies.
“What’s the matter?” Jhoanna asked.
Everyone hesitated, and it was Kathryn who took a step forward, reaching out to gently touch Jhoanna on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jhoanna, but … you- you’re … the king, he-”
Jhoanna was filled with dread at the insinuation behind the words, and her mouth fell open in shock, but nothing came out. She felt tears prick her eyes and the air rush out of her lungs. “Wh-where is my uncle?”
“I am so sorry, my darling … they are all gone.”
“No,” Jhoanna choked out, “no, Uncle Joseph is next in line – h-he has to-“
Kathryn gave her shoulder another squeeze, “Your Majesty-“
“No,” Jhoanna angrily said, stumbling backwards, “no, i-it’s not me, do not call me-”
Yves took a step forward and reached out for Jhoanna, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tightly as her adoptive sister dissolved into tears. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, until Jhoanna had cried herself into exhaustion, and everyone had been dismissed to leave the new queen to mourn in peace. Taking in shuddering breaths, Jhoanna tried to calm herself down, and Yves wiped her tears away for her as she murmured soothing things to her. There was nothing she could say to make her feel better though, and Jhoanna couldn’t help but think about how her life was about to drastically change.
---
Sat on a plush velvet sofa in one of the grand sitting rooms, Jhoanna listened as Kathryn informed her of everything that had happened. She could barely bring herself to focus, and she absentmindedly stroked the red velvet as she dimly listened to the words.
It had been a bomb. Her grandfather, her uncle, aunt and cousin had all been present for a charity event that she’d decided to skip. All of them gone. She was the heir to the throne of Amity, and Jhoanna felt empty. She had lost her mother and father when she was thirteen, and now she had lost all of her living family except her aunt, but even she wasn’t enough to comfort Jhoanna as she mourned the loss of her family, including her parents all over again. In her loneliness and isolation, she felt the loss of them as if she was feeling it for the first time.
“The press got word of the story immediately – the flags are flying at half-mast – so we are trying to do damage control, and we're ... making funeral arrangements. There will be guests arriving to pay their respects, and you will need to officially meet with the Prime Minister. Charo Santos is a force to be reckoned with, and I would advise you to stay on good terms with her.”
“Right,” Jhoanna muttered.
“You will need to move into the palace to assume your duties. That means that you will also need to give up your doctorate, and your duties in the military. You will get to keep your titles and honours, but you’ll no longer be an active member of the Blues and Royals regiment.”
Frowning slightly, Jhoanna made a sound of protest. “I will not give up who I am for this. I already have a home, and I am happy living at Mirror Palace with my sister. Why must I move here to Tropical Palace? And why must I give up my doctorate? I have worked hard for my degree, and I didn’t ask for this.”
“You were born in Bloom City, and Tropical is the official residence of the reigning monarch. You are too far away in Lacuna – and Mirror Palace was fine for a princess who was third in line for the throne, but now you are queen, Jhoanna. That means that you will have all sorts of duties to do, and you won’t have time for your doctorate. You already have your degree in political science – that will serve you well enough.”
Gritting her teeth, Jhoanna sat there in silence, blinking back tears. She didn’t want to sound like a petulant child, but it wasn’t fair. She had never imagined that she would be queen – ever – her grandfather’s line was secured with two male heirs, but even that hadn’t been enough. Jhoanna couldn’t help but wish her parents were here – especially her mother – and she looked at her aunt, who was identical, except for a white streak through her dark hair. Somehow, looking at the familiar face just made Jhoanna feel worse, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing that her parents would want her to do this. Looking down at her hands, she nodded in agreement.
“I must ask you now, before your first public appearance … what do you wish your name to be?” Kathryn asked, and Jhoanna snapped her head up to look at her with a slight frown on her face.
“What do you mean?”
Kathryn hesitated, giving her a grim look. “As … queen, you may pick a new name to rule by. Your grandfather was born Sergio, but he took to the throne as Joseph the first. Your uncle was Joseph the second, and would’ve been at liberty to choose a new name once he took to the throne.”
“Jhoanna,” she muttered, “my parents called me Jhoanna. I will not change it.”
“Well, long live Queen Jhoanna,” Kathryn said, bowing her head slightly as she looked at her niece. Sick of talk of the crown and her duties and dead family, Jhoanna shot up to her feet, leaving Kathryn to scrambled to her own, and Jhoanna paused, looking at her aunt with a wary look on her face. She wasn’t used to everyone curtsying to her or giving her a slight bow whenever she walked past, or rushing to stand up as soon as she did. It had been a day, and she already felt overwhelmed.
Waiting for Kathryn to leave, Jhoanna looked at her expectantly, and her aunt gave her a small smile as she respectfully stood off to the side, waiting for Jhoanna to lead the way. “The crown must come first. The crown always takes precedence.”
---
The first week had passed by quickly, and Jhoanna heavily relied on Yves to get through it. Christine and Louise had been close friends when Jhoanna’s mother had still been alive, and Louise had been appointed Jhoanna’s godmother when she was born, so when Jhoanna’s parents were both killed in a car crash, she’d been adopted by the Duke and Duchess of Lacuna as per her mother’s request. Despite the fact that she still had living family, Jhoanna was shipped off to Lacuna and raised on their estate during the school holidays, only ever seeing her family for official events. She had never really minded not being raised by her family, for there were too many rules and laws to follow at court, and Jhoanna hated the reminders of her parents, but it hurt the most to be apart from Kathryn. Her aunt acted as a diplomat on behalf of Amity, and most of her time was spent travelling overseas, which wasn’t ideal for raising her niece, and so Jhoanna had only ever saw her when Kathryn would come to Lacuna to see her, or she was present at official events in Bloom City.
Over that first week, Jhoanna was deeply grateful to Kathryn too, for she was a good politician and knew more about the laws than almost anyone else Jhoanna knew. She helped her navigate the difficulties of adjusting to her new life, and Jhoanna blindly followed her lead, unable to find the motivation to care at all. Every morning she got changed into the required black mourning clothes that her new maid had set out for her, and shut herself in her room until someone came looking for her so that she could discuss royal matters with them or someone else who was looking for her. This time, it was Kathryn looking for her, and at the knock on the door to her spacious quarters, Jhoanna permitted her to enter, shooting Yves an exasperated look.
Dipping into a shallow curtsy, Kathryn gave her niece a slight smile, “Your Majesty, I thought you might like to know that Martha, the Queen Mother of Aeternus has arrived in Bloom City. I have extended an invitation to her and her daughter for tea shortly; there’s some matters that she would like to discuss with you. I know you probably don’t want to meet with other people at the moment, but it is, ah, a sensitive topic, and I think you’d want to know straight away.”
With a sigh, rubbed at her temple, “very well. Am I allowed to know what it is?”
“I think it would be best to wait until she and the princess arrives,” Kathryn said, hesitating slightly, before adding, “you went to boarding school with Princess Mikha, didn’t you?”
Jhoanna nodded, “we were roommates. Only for the last year of school – she was in boarding school in Ireland before that.”
“What was she like?”
Yves and Jhoanna both looked at Kathryn with a bewildered look on their faces, wondering why the princess of Aeternus’s personality mattered. Shrugging, Jhoanna grimaced slightly. “She was … distant? She didn’t have any friends – well, maybe one, but they were more rivals. Used to get into a lot of fights too, so she was always in detention. We are the same age so we were in the same grade and she was so smart – but she always used to get kicked out of class for arguing with the teachers. She went through a bit of a weird goth stage too … multiple piercings, red hair, way too much eyeliner. I didn’t really get to know her all that well, she just used to sit in our dorm room and read by herself and ignore me if she could. I remember her being really stubborn though; I don’t think she liked me much because we disagreed on a lot of things, and neither one of us was willing to back down. To be honest, I think they only threw us in the same room because we were both princesses.”
“Ah, right,” Kathryn said, “well, I’m sure she’s changed.”
“I’ve seen her at events over the years – she doesn’t have red hair and piercings anymore. Otherwise, she’s just as stubborn and distant from what I can tell. I haven’t seen her since … God, I don’t know, we don’t really run in the same circles.”
Giving her a tense smile, Kathryn nodded, “well, they’ll be here soon. I’ll have them brought to the sunlight sitting room when they arrive, shall I?”
“That would be perfect, thank you.”
Kathryn left a moment later, leaving Jhoanna to sink back against the cushions of the sofa, letting out a weary sigh. She was sick of meeting with people, and this meeting with a Queen Mother of another country wasn’t exactly going to improve her mood. Luckily for Jhoanna, her usual persona was like sunshine, and she was good at faking it too, so taking a deep breath, she plastered a fake smile on her face and turned to Yves.
“If I blink twice, steal Colet’s gun and shoot me please,” Jhoanna ordered her, and Yves let out a quick laugh.
“It’ll be fine.”
---
Introductions and proper greetings were made, and Jhoanna soon found herself sat at one end of the long table, staring at Mikha with curiosity. She was exactly the same as the last time Jhoanna had seen her, with her dark hair, matching her strong eyebrows and intense chocolate brown eyes , and a face full of sharp lines and angles, as if she never smiled and didn’t intend to. Feeling slightly intimidated by her, Jhoanna avoided eye contact, and looked to her mother instead. She had met Queen Martha a number of times on official visits to Aeternus, or whenever she’d come to Amity, and Jhoanna was no less intimidated by her, but it seemed more appropriate to be a bit frightened of a formidable queen than her daughter who was younger than Jhoanna was.
As soon as the niceties were out of the way, which Mikha remained silent throughout as she stared at her cup of tea with disinterest, Martha nodded at Kathryn, who placed a few pieces of stapled paper down before Jhoanna, and Martha slid an exact replica down in front of her daughter. “I shall cut to the chase, Your Majesty,” Martha politely addressed Jhoanna, “your aunt has given you a copy of a contract that your parents made on your behalf when you were a child.”
“And what contract is that?” Jhoanna asked, her eyebrows rising slightly in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting it to be a business visit; she had thought it a diplomatic matter or a courtesy call to check on the new queen of Aeternus’ neighbouring country.
“Your parents made an agreement to wed you to my daughter, the princess of Aeternus,” Martha informed her, gesturing to Mikha, and Jhoanna and Mikha both blanched, looking at each other with wide eyes.
Jhoanna let out a spluttering sound as she stared at Martha, “you cannot be serious.”
“You must be having a laugh,” Mikha snorted, “I should bloody well think not.”
Martha sharply looked down at her daughter, the lines of her face hardening as her eyes flashed with a warning. “You have no say in the matter. You are useless unless your brother dies without an heir, and you’ll do as I say.”
“This isn’t the nineteenth fucking century,” Mikha exploded, shooting up out of her seat, “I will not be used as a bargaining chip to strengthen the alliance between our two countries.”
“And nor will I,” Jhoanna stubbornly chimed in, shooting Kathryn a hard look. Her aunt had known exactly what the meeting was going to be about, had even enquired as to what Jhoanna thought of Mikha, and still hadn't told her what the meeting was about.
“Ah, well, your parents have already signed an agreement on your behalf, and one has been signed by myself and my husband. In the agreement, it states that any titles and monies accorded to either of you by your position with be forfeit in the circumstance that you don’t keep your end of the bargain. I assure you that it was a binding contract.”
Jhoanna’s mouth fell open in shock, and she made a small sound of surprise. Looking to Kathryn, she shot her a questioning look, and her aunt gave her a pained smile. “It’s true, Your Majesty. Your parents didn’t anticipate you taking the throne, but you have, and if you don’t uphold the contract, you’ll have to abdicate the throne. The closest living relative you have is Queen Lea of Zyklon.”
“I would sooner abolish the monarchy,” Jhoanna scoffed.
“Then we are agreed,” Martha said, with a tight smile.
Mikha let out a sound of indignation, “we are certainly not, mother.”
“Then I suppose you had better put that useless arts degree to use. You’ll be cut off from everything and everyone you know,” Martha coldly told her daughter, and Jhoanna blinked in surprise.
“Perhaps Princess Mikha and I could have a moment alone,” Jhoanna asked, and Kathryn climbed to her feet at the dismissal, and Martha hesitated for a moment before relenting. The two girls sat at opposite ends of the long table, with Mikha staring Jhoanna down as she lowered herself back into her seat, and Jhoanna fiddled nervously with the contract in front of her. “You didn’t know about this?”
Giving Jhoanna a hard stare, Mikha crossed her arms over her chest as she sulked, “no I bloody well did not.”
“I’m unwilling to give up my crown – I don’t want the crown, but I won’t give it away to a foreign country – and I assume that you don’t want to give up your life of luxury?”
“Obviously not,” Mikha snapped, the muscles in her jaw working as she angrily read over the front page of the contract, “but I don’t want to marry you.”
Jhoanna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair, “well I’m not too keen on the idea of marrying you either, but we have to think of something.”
Mikha grimaced as she met Jhoanna’s eyes, “you don’t know my mother like I do, there’ll be no getting out of this now.”
“Perhaps not, but we can maybe manipulate the wording. Half of politics is manipulating the law to get what you want, so there must be some way out of this.”
“Go on then,” Mikha snorted, rolling her eyes slightly, “have at it.”
With a slight frown, Jhoanna read over the contract, muttering to herself as she read over the contract, her frown deepening as she realised the depth and intricacy of the contract. Mikha was right; it would be difficult to worm their way out of this contract. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence while Jhoanna read and Mikha watched her like a hawk, Jhoanna looked up and met her gaze. Mikha didn’t so much as flinch at being caught staring, and Jhoanna gave her a grim smile, “I’ll have my lawyer look at it, but for now, I can’t think of a way to get out of it. Our parents have legally bound us to one another in an arranged marriage. Either we agree to cooperate with this fake relationship, or we lose everything that we were born into. Perhaps you should get your lawyer to look at it too.”
“Fuck,” Mikha cursed, banging her hand down on the table. She was seething with anger, and Jhoanna blinked in surprise at the tightly balled fists and burning eyes as she looked at the contract before her. “I just turned twenty-five and she has stolen my life from me already.”
“Well, we’re the same,” Jhoanna hesitantly added, falling silent when Mikha looked up at her with her eyes blazing with anger. She decided to try a different approach, “when do you suppose they were going to tell us?”
Mikha huffed as she drummed her fingers on the table, “well how am I supposed to know? They didn’t even tell me I wasn’t my mom’s until I was ten.”
Jhoanna winced slightly, remembering that Mikha was the King’s daughter from an affair with some unknown woman. She’d been granted the title of princess despite that, and was adopted by Martha from the moment she was born, and raised as the second heir to the throne, after her brother. Neither of them were supposed to take the throne, yet here Jhoanna was, and she was about to be roped into tying Mikha to her kingdom too.
“I-I think that we don’t have a choice,” Jhoanna said after a moment, “it clearly says that we must attempt this fake relationship, let it develop over the course of a few years, and then we will marry. I suppose it was a kindness that they took into consideration our sexualities, or else you might’ve found yourself marrying my cousin instead … if he was alive.”
“Or you my brother,” Mikha snarkily replied. “Well, I suppose we are in agreement then. We’ll have our lawyers look over it, and in the meantime we’ll place along with this charade. As soon as we find a way to break the contract and keep our titles, we’ll amicably break up and move on with our lives.”
Jhoanna gave her a hesitant smile that Mikha didn’t return. “Deal.”
“No,” Mikha said, giving her a stony look, “no more deals with your family.”
Jhoanna raised her eyebrows as her lips curled up at the corners, “well … we have an agreement then.”
“I suppose we do, Your Majesty,” Mikha said with a wry smile, and Jhoanna let out a laugh of surprise.
A flicker of worry ran through Jhoanna’s mind though, because she’d spent a year sharing the same dorm room with Mikha, and although it’d been years ago, she clearly remembered the stubbornness of the girl, and she knew they were both going to be in for a rough time. Neither of them wanted this, and she knew that if anyone was going to make it more difficult than it needed to be, it would be Mikha. Staring at the girl smirking across the table from her, Jhoanna couldn’t help but curse out her parents for arranging this deal, because in that smirk, she saw just how much trouble Mikha was going to cause for her. The tabloids and wild stories whispered at events were enough to assure her of just how much trouble Mikha would be, and Jhoanna hoped her lawyer could find a way out soon, and knew that Mikha would be praying for the same thing.
This was going to be the start of both of their nightmares.
Furious, Jhoanna locked herself in her room for the rest of the night with Yves, who patiently listened to Jhoanna rant, complain, and even cry a little, as she thought about how her parents had sold her life away more than thirteen years ago. To the girl Jhoanna had gone to boarding school with, no less. It wasn’t so much the idea of having to be in a relationship with Mikha, it was the thought of being forced to be in a relationship with anyone. Not that she didn’t like Mikha, but she wouldn’t say she liked her either – Jhoanna didn’t know her. It had been eight years since they’d been in school together, and neither of them were who they used to be. Just the thought of how vehemently opposed to the idea Mikha had been earlier on, made Jhoanna doubt whether they could get through this, but she knew they had no choice but to try.
The next morning, Jhoanna woke up early, showering and dressing in a black skirt and dark grey shirt, before pulling on a black sweater. Dressed and ready for the day, she walked into the office connected to her private sitting room and sat down behind the desk. Spinning back and forth in her chair, Jhoanna sighed as she looked around at the shelves full of books that she hadn’t read because she had never stayed at the palace long enough to, before reaching for the phone on the desk and dialling the number for her aunt’s office in the palace.
“Your Majesty,” Kathryn greeted her when she picked up.
“Good morning,” Jhoanna stiffly replied, not completely forgiving her aunt for keeping her parent’s agreement from her, “I need your help, please.”
“Of course. I’m at your disposal – anything you need. Should I come to your suite?”
Jhoanna hesitated, before she grimaced slightly, “no, I just need Princess Mikha’s personal number. If I have to pretend that I love her, I should probably have her phone number, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ah, yes, of course,” Kathryn agreed, “I’ll get back to you in a moment.”
“Thank you. Just text it to me,” Jhoanna told her, before she hung up and climbed to her feet. Walking out of the office, Jhoanna saw her personal maid, Sheena, carrying in a tray with Jhoanna’s breakfast on it. She’d been taking her meals in her private quarters, rather than the small dining room that the royal family usually ate in, and Sheena quickly dipped into a curtsy, before walking over to the small table and setting down the tray.
Jhoanna murmured her thanks, sitting down at the table while Sheena went to make her bed and clean her rooms. Looking down at the perfectly cut triangles of bread and the boiled egg in the little egg cup. With a sigh, Jhoanna took the top off and miserably ate her breakfast as she thought about what she was going to say to Mikha; she was just hoping that Mikha would be as willing to cooperate as Jhoanna intended to be. Eating quickly, Jhoanna went to retrieve her phone and dialled the number that Kathryn had messaged her.
Nobody picked up, and a moment later a blocked number was calling Jhoanna back. “Hello?” she hesitantly asked when she picked up.
“Who is this?”
“Um, it’s Jhoanna.”
“Oh … hi. How did you get my number?” Mikha asked.
Jhoanna nervously fiddled with her glasses as she paced around the sitting room. “Oh, I just asked my aunt, Kathryn, to get it for me. I thought I’d invite you to the palace today so we could discuss some things.”
“Like what?”
“Our relationship,” Jhoanna slowly said, “I figured that if we need to make it believable, we should probably know things about each other.”
“You would assume,” Mikha curtly replied, “fine. What time does Your Majesty request my attendance?” Jhoanna rolled her eyes at Mikha’s sarcasm, sighing softly.
“Um, as soon as you’d like?”
There was a quiet laugh at the other end of the phone, and Mikha replied, “well I would not like to, but seeing as I have to, I’ll be there within the hour.”
“Okay,” Jhoanna said, grimacing slightly at Mikha’s tone – she was going to be in for a fun day if they kept this up – and hesitated slightly, “well, I’ll see you soon.” The line went dead, and Jhoanna looked down at the screen, before adding Mikha’s number to her contacts. Casting a look around her rooms, Jhoanna decided to watch some TV while she waited for Mikha to appear and avoided everyone else.
---
“Your Majesty,” Kathryn said, curtsying slightly as she entered Jhoanna’s rooms, “the princess is downstairs.”
Taking a deep breath, Jhoanna threw her shoulders back and nodded to her aunt, before slipping out into the hallway, where Colet bowed slightly to her, falling into step behind her and Kathryn. There had been a debate about her security detail when she’d been declared the next ruler, about a new bodyguard for the Queen, but Jhoanna had won. There were doubts about Colet’s slight figure, and whether she would be able to protect Jhoanna properly, and Jhoanna had taken offence at the fact that she’d been a suitable bodyguard when she had been third in line for the throne, but now all of a sudden Colet wasn’t, and had stubbornly refused to replace her.
As they passed through the corridors, Jhoanna spotted Yves walking towards her, and gave her a bright smile. Dipping into a curtsy, Yves smiled at her and waited for Jhoanna and Kathryn to pass her by, before falling into step as the lowest ranking of the three of them. “What’re you doing today?” Jhoanna asked her adoptive sister, looking over her shoulder as she kept a steady pace.
“Mom wants me to go and have tea with her and Julius Centeno,” Yves said.
“The diplomat from Aeternus?” Jhoanna asked, “he’s here too?”
“He is, Your Majesty, and I’ll be joining the Duchess for tea as well,” Kathryn added. Jhoanna nodded, glad that everyone would be away so that she could figure things out with Mikha alone. Just the two of them to come up with their own plan, without the interference of people who had agreed to this whole situation in the first place. At least they couldn’t control this.
As Jhoanna walked down the red carpeted stairs, she made for the sitting room where all guests were received, taking in the back of a black dress and the dark hair curling around Mikha’s shoulders. She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, giving Jhoanna a hard look as she sank into a curtsy, “Your Majesty.”
“Princess,” Jhoanna greeted her, “thank you for coming.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Mikha replied, sounding anything but thrilled to be there, and Jhoanna gave her a hesitant smile, before turning to look at her aunt and sister.
“I suppose I’ll see you both later then,” Jhoanna said, subtly dismissing them both, and resigning herself to the fact that Colet was now her permanent shadow. She’s already been made to sign a new contract and non-disclosure agreement, so Jhoanna wasn’t too bothered about her overhearing anything, as much as she hated the fact that she would overhear some things. “Enjoy your tea.”
They both gave her a curtsy, respectfully nodding to Mikha too, before they took their leave. With a sigh, Jhoanna turned back to Mikha, gesturing to Colet. “This is my bodyguard, Colet.”
“This is my bodyguard, Matthew,” Mikha said, gesturing to the man behind her. He bowed to Jhoanna, and she kindly greeted him, before looking at Mikha. “Well, I suppose that we are permitted to speak freely here?”
Jhoanna nodded, hesitating before she spoke. The castle seemed awfully suffocating at that moment, and she needed some air, “perhaps we could go for a walk through the gardens while we talk?”
“Of course,” Mikha readily agreed, and Jhoanna exhaled slowly; so far everything seemed to be going well, and Mikha seemed to be in a less sour mood than she had been yesterday. Jhoanna couldn’t blame her though – it had been a shock for both of them – but she wondered how long the civility would last.
In silence, Jhoanna led them both through the palace, with Mikha following a step behind her, making her way towards a set of French doors at the back of the palace, looking out over the gardens. Walking out onto the patio, Jhoanna descended the steps, making for the small maze that started off to the left. Walking into the gap in the hedges, Jhoanna quickly navigated the twists and turns of the maze, remembering all the times she’d run through it with Jay when her parents frequented the palace. They came to the middle of the maze, where a large round fountain sat, and Jhoanna walked over to the fountain, sitting down on the edge of the low wall. Mikha stood before her with her hands clasped behind her back, staring intently at Jhoanna.
“Oh … you can sit down,” Jhoanna said after a few moments, realising that Mikha was waiting for her permission, and Mikha sat down beside her, leaving a sizable gap between them both. Colet and Matthew both took up positions and the two openings in the maze, their eyes trained on the two women as they awkwardly sat there in silence. “Um, well, I think we should start with getting rid of all the rules and customs and all that. No stuffy titles or curtsying … I mean, what’s the point, they’ll expect us to act like a real couple in front of the rest of the world, and we can’t do that if you can’t even call me by my name.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Mikha said, her eyes boring into Jhoanna’s, “I think there’s other matters to do with that as well. They’ll be expecting a real relationship to be presented. Meaning that we shall have to show … affection to each other.”
Jhoanna swallowed the lump in her throat, “right, yes, of course. Well … I suppose it wouldn’t look right to have you trailing after me all the time. I guess we could … hold hands.”
“I don’t like to be touched,” Mikha stiffly told her.
“Well how do you suppose we make it look real then if we’re not going to show affection?”
There was a slight pause as Mikha contemplated the question, before she pressed her lips together in a grim line. “Fine. But you will only hold my hand, or touch the middle of my back, or put your arm around me. If we must hug, don’t hold me too tightly, and don’t touch my ribs … I’m ticklish.”
Blinking in surprise at the list of ruled, Jhoanna quickly nodded, “of course. I’m fine with anything, but, ah, how should we greet each other? We’ll not only be pretending outside of the palace, but also within. No one except our families and a few essential people know of the deal, and it will obviously have to stay that way, and there’s too many eyes within the palace. We’ll need to make it look convincing then too.”
“I suppose a kiss on the cheek would be appropriate,” Mikha begrudgingly agreed.
“And what about … kissing?” Jhoanna hesitantly asked, before clarifying, “like, a proper kiss. They will expect us to try and sneak kisses in public … we’re both young, and supposedly in love.” She let out a quick laugh at that, at the absurdity of the whole situation. “Of course, I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable though.”
“This whole thing makes me uncomfortable,” Mikha grumbled, a look of anger on her face as she fumed, “it goes against all of my morals. Although I shouldn’t be surprised at the fact that my poxy mother would do something like this. I would’ve thought your parents wouldn’t have agreed though … unless they also hated you.”
Jhoanna winced slightly at her words, “no, my parents loved me very much, but, uh, I’m not sure why they agreed to do this. I guess maybe they were just trying to keep popularity with the monarchies, seeing as no one really cares about us anymore. There’s no real power here.”
“No shit,” Mikha snorted, “if we had any power, you could tear that contract in half and we could pretend like this whole thing never bloody happened.”
“Well, it looks like we’re going to have to suck it up,” Jhoanna sighed, giving Mikha a grim smile. “It could be worse … our parents could’ve tried to pair one of us with Rovic.”
Mikha looked disgusted at the thought, “I’d rather drown myself in this bastard fountain than pretend to be in love with that boring twat. It’s going to be tiring enough having to do it with you, and it’s only slightly more bearable because I had to deal with you as my bloody roommate for a year.”
“Ah, already trying to charm me, I see,” Jhoanna laughed, the joked falling flat as Mikha gave her an exasperated look. “Well, I suppose that we should try and learn as much about each other as we can. Just in case. Our friends will probably ask a lot of questions, so we’ll need to know as much as possible to make it look believable.”
“Your friends might, but I don’t have any.”
“Oh … well, I’m sure we’ll have to answer these questions eventually.”
Mikha made a disgruntled sound, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, perhaps we should start with how long we’ve supposedly been together? It would look a bit suspicious if we become an item as soon as you get a crown.”
“Um, I suppose that we could say a few months at least? Which events have we both been at this year? We can use those as covers for us seeing each other under the radar.”
“Smart,” Mikha said with approval, and Jhoanna smiled slightly at the praise, “um, we were both at the wedding of Duke Leon to Lady Allison. He was your uncle’s friend, was he not? And before that, the christening of King Robert’s niece, Ciara, was it not? We were both in London for Wimbledon too … you were there right?”
Jhoanna nodded at each event – she’d been present at them all – and sat with a thoughtful expression on her face. “So, should we say we have been officially dating for six months, and we reacquainted ourselves a few months before that? We can say we kept it a secret from everyone except our families, but … the loss of my family made you come rushing to my side – ever the loving girlfriend.”
Mikha rolled her eyes at Jhoanna’s words, but agreed. “You should introduce me to your friends then – soon – or they won’t believe us. Also, we should have some inside sources leak stories about our relationship and speak about me rushing to your side to help you mourn. That way when we make our first public appearance, it’ll add some fuel to the rumours that we are dating.”
“Right, yes, of course.”
“And I think that we should deny it,” Mikha added, making Jhoanna’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Deny it? Why?”
Shrugging slightly, Mikha gestured vaguely, “you’ll be crowned in a couple of months, and then you’ll have to go on a coronation tour. You’ll be interviewed, and of course the pissing press will ask about us. If you deny that we’re anything but close friends, then when we’re seen publically being affectionate, it’ll blow up.”
“Fair point,” Jhoanna agreed, thinking about how shrewd Mikha was if this was everything she’d come up with overnight. A part of Jhoanna wondered how much of who she was was an act, a cunningly clever act that had been put together so well that no one would ever know the difference. “Perhaps you could schedule a conveniently timed trip to one of the stops on my coronation tour.”
“France,” Mikha blurted out, shrugging slightly at the eyebrow Jhoanna arched, “I’ve been meaning to go snowboarding lately. I can go up to the mountains while I’m there.”
“Royals don’t snowboard,” Jhoanna laughed, “we ski.”
“You do whatever you’re told, because you've always been the perfect princess,” Mikha corrected her, “I don't because I'm not.”
Giving Mikha an exasperated look, Jhoanna sighed, “and are you going to do what you’re told in this? Or are we going to spend all of our time bickering over small details?”
A smirk curled the corners of Mikha’s lips as she looked at Jhoanna, her eyes sparkling with a glimmer of amusement, “oh yes, we shall bicker over everything, I should think. I’m very stubborn, if you remember correctly, and if I remember correctly, so are you.”
“Brilliant,” Jhoanna glumly replied, “we’re going to be in for a real treat.”
“Well, I guess I’ve truly signed my life away,” Mikha coolly said.
Laughing, Jhoanna tilted her head to the side as she pushed her glasses up her nose, taking in the dissatisfied frown gracing Mikha’s face. “You know, most people would see me as a grand prize.”
“Yes, well, that’s certainly what they think,” Mikha curtly replied, giving Jhoanna a tight smile. “No matter, we’re stuck with each other for the time being. Hopefully we’ll be able to break this bleeding contract before this goes much further. I dread to think about it getting to the point where we actually have to pretend that we like each other, let alone love.”
“Hopefully,” Jhoanna agreed, a feeling of dread filling her at the thought of not being able to free herself from the contract. She didn’t want to spend her entire life pretending to love someone – she wanted to really love someone. “Right, well then, first things first, when is your birthday?”
Snorting at the basic question that they still didn’t know the answer to, Mikha gave her a grim smile, “bonfire night.”
“Bonfire night?” Jhoanna asked, looking slightly puzzled.
“Yes, the eighth of November. Did you even pay attention in history class?”
Jhoanna let out a surprised laugh, “well how could I when you would argue with the teachers at every possible moment?”
“Um, I distinctly remember us both getting kicked out of class one day because we argued so much during a class … discussion, and I ended up with detention because we kept bickering outside in the hallway and told the Headmaster to fuck off.”
“Ah, yes, I remember that,” Jhoanna said, her lips twitching up into a smile as her eyes crinkled at the corners, “ever the rebel. You don’t have your red hair now though.”
“No,” Mikha stiffly replied, “apparently it wasn’t appropriate for a princess.”
Biting her lip to stop herself from smiling, Jhoanna let her fingertips trail in the cool water of the fountain, “I can’t imagine why.”
Mikha made a sound of indignation at the back of her throat, huffing slightly as she looked at the perfectly trimmed hedges. “Well, when’s your birthday then?”
“Arrangements for the funerals should be finalised soon, and ready for the end of the month, Your Majesty,” Kathryn said, and Jhoanna closed her eyes at the title. She wished that everyone would just call her by her name, as they used to, but now when her name was used instead of her title, it always preceded by Queen. It was all a bit too much for Jhoanna, and it had barely been two weeks.
“Thank you,” Jhoanna said, giving Kathryn a slight smile, before she hesitated. “You should probably know that I’m planning on leaving. I was going to go to Azure Palace until the funeral.”
Kathryn’s eyes widened slightly, and she shifted forward in her seat. “Azure Palace? You haven’t been there since …”
“Since mother and father died, I know,” Jhoanna finished for her, “but it’s where I grew up, and I need some time away from all of … this,” Jhoanna said, waving a hand around the room in a vague gesture, “to think things over.”
“Jhoanna, if I may … I think it would be best to stay here and help plan everything and make sure that everything is as you would like. Queen Martha is still here, and you should spend as much time with her daughter as possible to ensure that your relationship looks natural when you have your first public outing. Azure Palace is a three-hour drive, and it’s too far for us to reach you quickly for your opinion.”
“There are phones, Aunt Kathryn,” Jhoanna told her with a lopsided smile, “and I can still plan from the palace. I just … I’m still waiting on George to get back to me about the contract, and Mikha and I have discussed what will happen if we can’t break the contract, so we’ve already made some preparations.”
Sighing slightly, Kathryn pressed her lips together in a grim line, looking at her niece with concern. “You know that I love you as if you were my own daughter,” she told Jhoanna, who nodded, “and so I tell you this only to let you down gently, but … you shouldn’t get your hopes up about breaking the contract. If you need some time to adjust to this arrangement, then by all means, take a week to go to Azure Palace … but I wouldn’t expect good news once your lawyer friend finishes looking over it.”
Looking slightly disgruntled at Kathryn’s lack of optimism, Jhoanna seemed to deflate slightly. “I just don’t understand why they would do this. It’s not how things are done anymore, and they were never part of an arranged marriage. Did grandpa suggest it?”
“No, they made this decision themselves,” Kathryn told her, accompanied with a pitying look, “and it was to protect you. They made it just before they died. It was originally going to be to the Prince of Norway, and well, you told them that you liked girls and boys, and it turned out that so did the Princess of Aeternus, and they reconsidered. They wanted to strengthen your position, without jeopardising any lines of successions, and an arranged marriage would help ally ourselves with another nation. They had no idea you’d become queen, of course.”
“Well it’s ridiculous,” Jhoanna huffed, fiddling with the cuff of her black dress, “and completely primitive.”
“You’ll find no argument with me,” Kathryn assured her with a smile, “but perhaps you should invite Princess Mikha to accompany you on your trip. I know you’re trying to sort through it all, but if you want to make it believable, a week in the mountains ought to help give you enough fuel to spark the rumours … if George doesn’t find a way out.”
Jhoanna groaned at the prospect of being locked inside her childhood home for a week with Mikha – they were trying to be civil within the palace here, because the staff were wandering around everywhere – and knew that being isolated in the mountains was the exact opposite of a good way for them to bond. It would be a miracle if one of them didn’t throw themselves off one of the balconies, just to be free of the other. Not that Jhoanna didn’t like Mikha, but she certainly was already finding Mikha’s pessimism and snark tiring, and the thought of a week cooped up on a private estate with her wasn’t exactly appealing, especially when all she wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. There was no way around it though, and Jhoanna knew that if she left Mikha behind, questions would be raised and whispered throughout the castle. At least at Azure Palace, there would be less eyes because the place had been closed up since Jhoanna’s parents had died, and there wouldn’t be any staff except what they could spare from Tropical Palace.
Begrudgingly, Jhoanna nodded, “fine, I guess she can come too.”
“I shall have some staff members go and open up the palace for you and ready it for tomorrow.”
“No, I want to leave as soon as possible.”
“Oh, well, I’ll instruct them immediately then,” Kathryn said, as accommodating to Jhoanna’s wishes as always, “you should go and find Princess Mikha and tell her to pack a bag.”
Standing up, Jhoanna watched Kathryn jump to her feet too and bit back a sound of irritation, before thanking her aunt and walking out of the sitting room. Colet fell into step behind Jhoanna as they made their way through the corridors, in search of the room that Mikha had been put up in. Coming to a stop outside, Jhoanna nodded to Matthew, who bowed, took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock. The sound of Mikha permitting her to enter drifted towards her, and so Jhoanna pushed open the door and walked into the generous suite Mikha had been housed in.
Mikha blinked in surprise at the sight of Jhoanna, and quickly dipped into a curtsy on instinct as she tied the front of her silk bathrobe shut and arched an eyebrow at the queen. Her hair was up in a towel, having clearly just got out of the shower, and Jhoanna hesitated slightly in the doorway.
“As much as I’m sure the rest of the castle would like to see me changing, I don’t really fancy a bloody audience, so would you mind closing the door?” Mikha asked, a slight smirk playing on her lips.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were changing,” Jhoanna apologised as she unfroze, quickly shutting the door and walking a few steps in. “I, um, I came to tell you that I’m leaving for a week. I, uh, well I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. It’s just to Azure Palace – it’s a few hours away, at the foot of the mountains – and it’s very reclusive, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into me there. There’s enough room for us both to avoid each other and come up with an impromptu romantic getaway.”
Mikha snorted with laughter, “yes, I’m sure it’ll be very romantic when one of us hikes it up the mountains and throws ourselves of the highest peak to put us out of our fucking misery.”
A slight smile curled Jhoanna’s lips, and she pushed her glasses up her nose as she looked at Mikha, “well, I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but now I know you’ll love it so I’m a bit less worried.”
Letting out a bark of laughter at Jhoanna’s dry humour, Mikha walked into the bedroom, and Jhoanna patiently waited for her to dress as she listened to the sound of Mikha’s voice floating through the open door. “A week you say? And we don’t have to keep up appearances?”
“Yes, just a week, and well … there won’t be as many people, but we’ll still probably need to take our meals together and probably go on at least one walk through the estate for any photographers snooping around, but otherwise, you’re free to hole yourself up in your room.”
“Well I’ve never been one to pass up an opportunity to avoid people,” Mikha replied, walking back into the sitting room as she buttoned up her black shirt.
Jhoanna gave her a grim smile, “well, I’ll leave you to pack a bag. I plan on leaving as soon as possible, so I’m hoping that’s within the hour. You should tell your mother.”
Rolling her eyes, Mikha crossed her arms over her chest, and raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Jhoanna to say something else or leave. Hesitating, Jhoanna opened her mouth and then quickly closed it again, giving Mikha a quick nod before turning around and walking out of the room. They hadn’t even left yet, and had spoken for less than five minutes, and already Jhoanna felt her frustration growing at the cold and aloof manner that Mikha behaved. It was going to be a trying week.
---
They sat in the back of the monarch’s car, with its bombproof body, bulletproof glass and basically everything that could make it withstand a tank, Jhoanna in the back right corner, typing away on her laptop and sneaking peeks at Mikha. There had been a slight debate about whether Mikha should be allowed to go in her own car, before Jhoanna had won, and Mikha had begrudgingly agreed under the terms that Jhoanna not speak to her on the drive. They were currently two hours into the drive north, and so far so good, as Mikha sat opposite Jhoanna and as far to the left side of the car as she could get. Putting her earphones in and blasting some classical music that annoyed Jhoanna from where she sat, Mikha ignoring her as she steadily read her way through a book on the Russian dynasty, with a pair of glasses perched on her nose.
It wasn’t until Mikha’s phone started to vibrate that she paused her music and looked down at her phone, sighing as she answered it. “Yes?”
“Well I assumed someone would tell you.”
“I thought you’d be happy that I’m spending time with the new great love of my life,” Mikha snarkily replied to whatever Martha (Jhoanna assumed) said.
“Yes, well, it’s not like I have a choice anyway.” With that, Mikha hung up and plugged her earphones back into the phone, momentarily glancing up at Jhoanna and finding her staring at her. She scowled at Jhoanna, who nervously fiddled with her glasses. “Can I help you, Your Majesty.”
Jhoanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as her eyelids fluttered back open. “I told you not to call me that, and yes, you can. I told you to tell your mom that we were going away for a week.”
“Luckily for me, you’re not my queen,” Mikha shrugged, picking her book back up and opening up to where she left off, “which means that I bloody well don’t have to listen to you.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re completely insufferable?” Jhoanna grumbled, looking back at her laptop screen.
Mikha let out a sharp laugh, flashing a cold smile at Jhoanna, “never to my face.”
With a brooding look on her face, Jhoanna found herself distracted from her research by thoughts of Mikha. She still couldn’t peg her, and it was infuriating. Jhoanna liked to think that she was warm and open, despite all the hurt she had endured, yet she couldn’t break through to Mikha at all. It was almost like being back at boarding school all over again, except this time, they would be forced to spend the rest of their lives together, as opposed to one school year. The thought of putting up with this much sarcasm and defensiveness for decades made Jhoanna think back to Mikha’s suggestion that one of them fling themselves off the top of the mountain – it almost seemed like the more tempting offer at the moment. If Jhoanna could only make Mikha cooperate a bit, it would make things so much easier, and perhaps a bit more bearable, but she was so stubborn that Jhoanna couldn't imagine Mikha ever giving even an inch without a fight. Resigning herself to the fact that she would just have to endure it, Jhoanna silently prayed to George to find a loophole in the contract and free her. Free them both.
By the time they made it to the palace, the sun was shining brightly overhead, and as Jhoanna stepped out of the stuffy car, she basked in the warmth of the sun on her face. Mikha just breezed past her and made straight for the shade that the palace offered within its walls, and Jhoanna let out an exasperated sigh. She was in for a rough time, that was for sure. Leaving the servants to rush forward and collect their luggage, Jhoanna stalked off after Mikha with Colet following closely behind and Matthew breezing past as he rushed after his client.
Coming to the front doors of the palace, Jhoanna hesitated. She hadn’t been back there for thirteen years, and a lump formed in her throat at the thought of walking down the hallways she’d used to run down as a child, or sitting at the dining table she’d eaten at every night with her parents. A feeling of nervousness welled up within her, and Jhoanna took a deep breath as she stepped over the threshold of the palace.
A nearby butler bowed as she entered, informing her that a room had been prepared for her and asking if there were any particular rooms that she’d like the furniture uncovered in. A few minutes later, Jhoanna was walking over to the staircase and making her way up to her room – it wasn’t the one she’d grown up in - and Jhoanna felt a bit uneasy as she passed the paintings and tables, walking over the thick carpet and passing familiar doors. There was so much that was familiar to her, and she remembered more than she thought she did.
As soon as she reached her room, she shut herself inside and fell back against the doors, drawing in a shuddering breath as she reached into the handbag she carried. Fishing out her phone, she quickly dialled Yves’s number, hoping that the one person who had always been there would come and help her.
“Hi.”
“Yves! I need you.”
“I know,” her adoptive sister laughed, “I’m already on my way, I just thought you might need a few hours alone to sort through your feelings. Try not to panic until I get there.”
Jhoanna let out a sigh of relief, feeling instantly better. “Right, yes, of course. No freaking out. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay. Love you, bye.”
Yves reiterated the sentiment before the line went dead, and Jhoanna stared around the room. It was one of the guest suites – for the more distinguished guests – and even though she’d never stayed in it herself, the furniture was familiar to her. Every inch of this palace had once been known to her, and she’d spent hours exploring rooms with Yves when they had both been young. With a rush of gratitude, Jhoanna realised just how lucky she was to have Yves. Their mothers had been best friends, and their daughters had been raised the same way up until they had become sisters, and Jhoanna knew that no matter what, she’d always have her sister on her side. She didn’t think that Yves would be much help with her and Mikha though – that was a fight that Jhoanna would have to muddle through alone, for the most part.
They were halfway through their stay at Azure Palace, and much to Jhoanna’s surprise it hadn’t been that bad. Perhaps it was because she’d had a few weeks to get used to the idea of her being contractually obligated to fake date Mikha, or the fact that she was away from dozens of prying eyes and inquiring officials. Either way, Jhoanna found that eating meals with Mikha was bearable, even if it was mostly in silence, or accompanied by Yves’s polite attempts at conversation. Mikha was as grouchy as ever, but she did indulge Jhoanna in a few walks through the gardens where they quizzed each other about dozens of random facts that they might possibly be asked one day. Still, every day Jhoanna called George, hoping to find out that she had found a loophole, but was disappointed each time.
It almost seemed to relax Jhoanna to be away from Bloom City though, as if she left all of her worries behind, and she soon stopped feeling anxious at being back in her childhood home. Yves had been by her side almost every moment since she’d joined her at the palace, helping Jhoanna come to terms with being back in the place she had once called home, and it had been a small source of comfort to have someone who she shared so many happy memories with at the palace. She hadn’t been in her old rooms though – or her parents – and a part of her was itching to go in and see if anything had changed.
It was the morning of the fourth day when she finally built up the courage to do it. She’d gotten up early, just as the sun was starting to rise, and decided to take a walk through the hallways to clear her head. Colet was off duty, and while there was a bodyguard stationed outside her door, they remained where they stood when Jhoanna instructed them to stay. She would be safe inside the palace – there were guards stationed down basically every hallway – and so, Jhoanna set off through the palace, only pausing when she passed familiar white doors. Standing outside them and staring for a few moments, Jhoanna hesitantly reached out and pushed the doors open.
They parted to reveal a dark room – the curtains were drawn – and all of the furniture was draped with white cloths to keep the dust off. Walking in, Jhoanna lifted one edge of the cloth draped over a grand piano off to left, trailing her fingertips over the smooth wood that covered the ivory keys. It felt strange to be back in her old room, and she wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not. Wandering around, she ran her fingers along the familiar wallpaper, lifted the sheet and flopped down onto the queen single bed, and pulled open the curtains to look out at the view she’d woken up to a thousand times. Next to one of the windows was an object draped with another white cloth, and Jhoanna smiled as she hesitantly reached out to pull the fabric off the small easel. The wood was stained a multitude of coloured paint, and Jhoanna ran her fingers over the blank canvas that hadn’t been removed. There was a cupboard nearby, where she had used to keep all her art supplies, and she found that everything was still in its place; the small apron on a hook, a dozen palettes piled haphazardly on top of one another, and a rainbow of coloured oil paints.
Reaching out, Jhoanna plucked up a tube of red paint and twisted the cap off. It was still sealed, and perfectly fine for painting, and Jhoanna turned to look at the blank canvas, before she pulled out a palette and squirted the entire tube onto it. She had lost some of her motivation to paint after her parents had died – her mother had always encouraged her, and she’d been good at it – and she had taken up sketching instead, but she suddenly had the urge to paint. Plucking a thick paintbrush from the cupboard, Jhoanna began to paint bold lines of red over the canvas, with no plans as to what she would paint. She soon grew frustrated though, and painted the entire thing in the one shade of red, furiously covering every inch of the white, until the front of her clean shirt was covered in the paint.
A flicker of movement out of the corner of Jhoanna’s eye made her jerk her head around, paintbrush poised mid-air. It was Mikha. She hovered uncertainly in the doorway, a slight frown on her face as she looked at Jhoanna. “Sorry,” she murmured, “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just saw that the door was open.”
“Oh … right,” Jhoanna said, putting down the palette and moving to wipe her hands on her shirt, before she realised that they were covered in paint, “I was just, uh, painting.”
“I can see that, actually,” Mikha said, smirking slightly as she walked into the room, letting her eyes wander around the room. Some of the sass seemed to dissipate slightly when she realised that the pink floral wallpaper and pink sofa, and other signs of childish girliness, were all signs of a child’s room. “Oh … this is your room.”
Jhoanna nodded, her lips pressed together in a grim line as she looked back at her painting. “It was.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Mikha said, and Jhoanna looked back over to her and gave her a soft smile.
“You’re not,” Jhoanna said, and Mikha nodded, walking over to the easel. Looking down at her red hands, Jhoanna balled them into fists, the paint slick on her palms as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I, uh, it’s silly.”
Mikha stood next to her shoulder, her head tilted to the side as she looked at the dark red that Jhoanna had completely covered the canvas in. “No art is silly. Everything has meaning … even this.”
“Yes,” Jhoanna laughed, her cheeks slightly pink as she watched Mikha scrutinise the sloppy brushstrokes, “it means that I’m out of practice.”
“You should give it a name.”
Letting out a quick laugh, Jhoanna pushed her glasses up her nose, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s not exactly name worthy.”
They were silent for a few moments, and then Mikha spoke. “Monochrome Red.”
Jhoanna blinked in surprise, staring after Mikha as she walked away from her. It was probably the most civil conversation they’d had since they’d been thrown together, and Jhoanna was startled by the fact that it had been longer than two minutes without a snarky comment off Mikha. She looked after her with a puzzled look on her face, arranging her features into a blank mask when Mikha paused in the doorway and turned to look at her.
“You have paint on your face, by the way,” she said, smirking at Jhoanna. Blushing furiously, Jhoanna wiped at her face with her shirtsleeve, rolling her eyes as she watched Mikha laugh and disappear from sight. Of course it wouldn’t last long.
---
“My lawyer, George, said that she’s had a look over the contract and it doesn’t look like there’s anything that can be done. She said that there’s a lot of fine details, which are binding, but she’s only been looking for like a week, so she’s going to rope in her sister to help her too.”
Mikha frowned at Jhoanna as she lifted her teacup to her lips, leaving a smudge of red lipstick on the fine china. “I thought we were supposed to be keeping it a secret, not telling anybody who’ll bloody listen,” Mikha grumbled, “how am I supposed to know that I can trust these people?”
“Her sister is a lawyer as well – they’re the daughters of Samuel Cruz, the owner of Cruz LLP – so they know what they’re doing, and their whole family has been my family’s lawyers for a long time. Jasmine – George’s older sister – she was engaged to my cousin. She’ll help,” Jhoanna explained, reaching for a finger sandwich.
They were sat at a small table placed in the middle of the sprawling gardens, enjoying – or pretending to – a small afternoon tea with just the two of them. In reality, it was more of a rundown on how things were progressing with undoing the contract, as well as a chance to quiz each other some more. The weather was quite mild that day, a stark contrast to the cold weather that had been sweeping through, and the weak sunlight was enough to make Jhoanna relax slightly as she basked in the warmth of it. Sipping her tea, and having what almost resembled a normal conversation, Jhoanna found herself feeling less tense than she usually was around Mikha.
“Well, my lawyer still hasn’t come up with anything either, so I guess they’re both fucking useless,” Mikha sighed, fiddling with her teaspoon.
“I mean, I wouldn’t call them useless,” Jhoanna hedged, falling silent and the look of irritation Mikha shot her.
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, as Jhoanna ate her sandwich and Mikha poured herself another cup of tea, and eventually the silence became unbearable. Jhoanna was itching to say anything just so that the tension would go away, and so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I got the scar on my forehead from the chickenpox.”
As soon as the words slipped out, Jhoanna wished that she had kept her mouth shut, and she felt her face turning red as a slow smile spread across Mikha’s face. It was almost smug, as if she had been waiting for Jhoanna to crack under the weight of the silence. “Well, that’s just fascinating,” Mikha replied, smirking as she picked up a strawberry jam tart and put it on her plate. Almost as if she felt bad for Jhoanna, she let out a sigh, “the one under my eyebrow is from a fight. You remember Denise Julia, right?”
“Yeah, and I remember that fight too,” Jhoanna said, wincing slightly. An all girls boarding school hadn’t been as fun as it sounded – especially not when it was one of the most prestigious schools in the world, and had been full of rich snobs, royals, or one or two geniuses who had been offered scholarships. “Why did she dislike you so much? You were only there for a year and you must’ve gotten into at least six fights.”
Smiling slightly, Mikha shrugged, “new girl with a funny accent and red hair? Why wouldn’t I be picked on? I actually see her at a lot of parties, we get along quite well. I mean, we’re not friends, but we … well, we’re acquaintances I guess.”
“Are you two … you know …”
“Are you asking me about my sex life?” Mikha blinked in surprise, her face stiffening slightly
“No!” Jhoanna exclaimed, fighting back another blush as she scowled at Mikha, “it’s just … what if we were both dating someone. Then what? Would they have split us up to make way for their grand marriage plans?”
Mikha’s defences seemed to lower slightly, but she still gave Jhoanna a wary look. “Well I’ve never had much time for serious relationships, but if you want to find someone to fuck on the side, then be my guest. I won’t stop you.”
“You know, for a princess, your language is appalling,” Jhoanna chided Mikha, taking a sip of tea as she tried to change the topic.
“Well don’t talk to me if you don’t like the way I talk,” Mikha coolly replied, arching one of her eyebrows at her.
“Can’t you just be nice for longer than two minutes?” Jhoanna snapped, “I already have enough on my plate, what with the majority of my family’s funerals coming up, a coronation for a position I never planned on inheriting, and just about every other thing that’s going to come along and ruin the rest of my life, and what I don’t need sarcastic comments and rudeness from you.”
Looking stunned by Jhoanna’s outburst, Mikha muttered something under her breath as she reached for her tea, taking a sip before she carefully set it down. “Listen, I’m not going to pretend to be happy about this. I have my own life, doing what I like, when I like, and I’m sorry if you think I’m being rude, but I won’t pretend to be nice to you to make you feel better. You have your own family for that.”
“I’m not asking you to make me feel better,” Jhoanna said in a biting tone, “I’m asking you to not be such a bitch all the time.”
“Oo, language, Your Majesty,” Mikha said in a teasing tone, her eyes flashing a warning as she stared hard at Jhoanna. “And you don’t even know me.”
“I know you well enough,” Jhoanna stiffly replied.
Mikha scoffed, pushing her chair out and climbing to her feet. She balled up the napkin and threw it down on her plate, the muscles in her jaw working as she gave Jhoanna a cold look. “No, you don’t.”
Before she could stop her, Mikha stalked off, leaving Jhoanna sat at the table in the middle of the rose bushes and peonies, drinking her tea as she picked apart a raspberry muffin in her frustration. For a single moment, it seemed like they would be able to somewhat get along, but they were still stuck exactly where they had been – or perhaps a few steps back from where they’d started, because at least now, neither of them were trying to follow etiquette.
---
Taking a deep breath, Jhoanna hesitated before she knocked on the door. Loud classical music was coming from inside, and she had to knock again – louder this time – to make herself heard. The door was torn open by a scowling Mikha, who scowled even more as she looked at Jhoanna. “Can I help you?”
“I- … can I come in?”
Sighing, Mikha stepped aside and let her in, and Jhoanna lifted the small plate that she carried, before setting it down on the table. “Strawberry cheesecake. You told me that was your favourite.”
“I didn’t ask for cheesecake,” Mikha bluntly replied.
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Jhoanna exhaled forcefully and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s an apology. I was out of line – we both were – and you were right … I don’t know you. Not well. I know a lot of facts about you now, and I know the person you pretend to be … but I don’t know you. I’m sorry for calling you a bitch.”
Mikha laughed, a smirk pulling up one side of her mouth, “oh, no, you were right about that part, but you think I’m being bitchy for all the wrong reasons.”
“Why can’t you just make it easier for us?” Jhoanna asked, letting out an exasperated sigh, “you’re making it harder than it needs to be, and it’s already hard enough.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I supposed to be thrilled that I’m stuck in a contract with you?
“No! I’m not thrilled either.”
Mikha pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes, “well then what do you want from me?”
“To try!”
“I am trying,” Mikha snapped, her head jerking up to give Jhoanna a sharp look, “you think I would be here if I wasn’t trying? I have dozens of facts about you memorised that I, quite frankly, don’t give a shit about, but I remembered them because I’m trying.”
“Well it’s no good only trying around other people!” Jhoanna argued, “we’re going to be thrown together for social events and holidays and all sorts. People will expect us to be in love – to be giddy and so sickeningly sweet that they get jealous of us. If you can’t even sit through afternoon tea with me, then how are we going to last the rest of our lives?”
Mikha gave her a lopsided smile, “well, my parents married for love and they were never all of those things.”
“But that’s because they never had to pretend. They were in love.”
“Well that’s debatable,” Mikha snorted, and Jhoanna rolled her eyes.
“Just … we need to make it believable. Neither of us know how to live any differently, so we need to make it work. Please, just … why can’t we talk like this all the time? We’re being civil now … maybe not nice, but civil. There’s no need for tantrums and snarky comments. I know it’s going to be hard when we have to fool the whole world, but if we can at least act like we like each other, even in private … it’ll make it easier.”
They fell into silence for a few moments, and Mikha walked over to the table, pulling the plate closer and taking a bite of the cheesecake. “Well I don’t dislike you, although you talk far too much for my liking.”
“I don’t dislike you either.”
“Are you ready?”
Jhoanna turned away from the window to look at Yves, giving her a small smile while she tugged at the black dress she wore. It was the day of the funeral, and it would be her first public appearance since her family had been killed. Aside from the trip to Azure Palace, where she had gone from palace to car to palace, she hadn’t left the grounds of the castle, which meant that today, there would be dozens of cameras and reporters waiting to catch a glimpse of her, and Jhoanna had been so sick with nerves that she had barely slept all night.
“Yeah, I was just-“
“Don’t worry, Colet won’t let anyone near you,” Yves assured her.
Raising her eyebrows, Jhoanna tilted her head to the side as she looked at her sister, “Colet? I didn’t realise you were so familiar with my bodyguard.”
“We’re not,” Yves quickly corrected her, “I was just … making sure Vergara wouldn’t leave your side today. There’s going to be a lot of people.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Jhoanna grumbled, walking over to where a pair of small black heels were waiting for her. She slipped them on and gave Yves a grim smile, before making for the door. Colet gave her a slight bow and murmured a respectful greeting as Jhoanna walked out into the hallway, and started making her way through the palace. The exquisite paintings, Persian rugs, and finely crafted furniture all seemed out of place on such a gloomy day. Making her way down to the entrance hall, Jhoanna saw Kathryn stood with Louise and her Uncle John, and with a start, she realised that this was all the family she had now. They all bowed or dipped into curtsies as Jhoanna descended the stairs, and she nodded to some of the officials, servants and guards stood around.
Giving Jhoanna a small smile as she approached, Louise took a step forward. “Your Majesty.”
Sighing, Jhoanna fought back the urge to rub her tired eyes beneath her glasses – she’d just spent almost two hours being made presentable by a manner of stylists – and she gave Louise a soft smile in return. “Louise, you really don’t have to call me that. You’ve been my mom for half of my life, it seems a but pointless now.”
“You are just like your mother,” Kathryn said, reaching out to put a hand on Jhoanna’s shoulder, “she was never one for stuffy titles.”
“Is that so?” Jhoanna asked, her eyebrows rising slightly. If her mom hadn’t been so preoccupied with ensuring that Jhoanna have a secure alliance with another country, for the sake of her position, she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
Kathryn tutted her, giving her niece a tight smile, “you know what I mean.”
“Well, we’d better get on with this then,” Jhoanna glumly replied, throwing back her shoulders and walked over to the main doors of the palace. Two guards bowed slightly, before pulling the doors open, and Jhoanna was met with dozens of flashes as pictures were snapped, and the overwhelming sound of people shouting. She was used to it – she had spent years practicing being in the public eye – and she wouldn’t falter now. Her aunt and uncle, and Louise and Yves, all fell into formation behind her as she slowly walked outside and descended the front steps, keeping a blank expression on her face. Willing herself not to cry, and not to tremble, she put one foot before the other and focused solely on the black car waiting for her. It was only a minute before she was being bundled into the back of it, with Yves and Colet, while everyone else waited for other cars to come and get them.
Her grandfather’s body was transported in a horse-drawn gun carriage, surrounded by a military contingent as soldiers were present to pay their respects to their monarch. The royal standard and flowers on the coffin were joined by the king’s crown, right where his head would be beneath the wood. The bodies of her uncle, aunt and cousin would be transported behind the late king’s in hearses, accompanied by bands of military personnel and government officials. It would be a nation-wide occasion, and everyone important in the country would be there, as well as high-ranking figures from around the world.
Settled inside the car, with the dark tinted windows hiding her from view, Jhoanna let out a shaky breath, leaning her head back against the headrest. A gentle squeeze on her knee made her look at Yves, who was looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll manage,” Jhoanna murmured as the car started making a wide loop around the courtyard and out through the gates. Hundreds of people pressed in on both sides, held back by railings and dozens of cops, and Jhoanna shrunk back into her seat as she watched everyone shout and wave at the passing car, waving small flags with the royal coat of arms on it. It was a reality shock to Jhoanna to see how little people cared about the fact that most of her family were dead – they didn’t care – and they might’ve been there to pay their respects, but they sadness of the day seemed to have been overshadowed by the chance to see the new queen. Jhoanna felt almost sick.
The drive to the cathedral wasn’t long – it was a straight line from the palace gates to the front doors of it – and Jhoanna was breathing rapidly by the time the car was pulling to a stop. “Yves-“
“Hey, okay, you’re fine, just take a deep breath okay? I’m here, mom’s here, Kathryn’s here. We’ve got you. You’re not alone,” Yves quickly reassured her, trying to calm Jhoanna down before she got in front of the cameras. She felt like she was going to pass out, feeling a maelstrom of emotions within, but beneath the mask of makeup, she looked as normal as usual. Only her eyes betrayed her panic.
Taking two quick, deep breaths to steady herself, Jhoanna nodded, “yes, of course. I’m just being silly.”
“It’s not silly to grieve,” Yves assured her, giving her sister’s shoulder a squeeze, “you just can’t do it in public. Not right now.”
The car came to a complete stop and a guard wearing the red livery of the palace guard rushed forward to open the door, bowing her head as she stood to attention. Jhoanna climbed out, taking a deep breath as she looked at the assembled people outside and just within the doors to the cathedral. Mikha was there, alongside Martha and her brother, King Joshua, who had flown in last night. There was Prime Minister Santos, and a few other Amity officials and titled individuals, and the Zyklon royal family, as well as many European nobles. She would have to greet them all properly while the cameras and reporters watched them all fuss about and fawn over each other, and Jhoanna wasn’t in the mood for any of it. If she had it her way, the funeral would’ve been a private affair with only her family and their closest friends, but privacy was a thing that her highly public life wouldn’t afford her.
To Jhoanna’s surprise, as she took a step towards, Mikha stepped forward from her mother and brother, dipping into a slight curtsy, given the amount of cameras and people watching. This would be their first time in public together, and Jhoanna didn’t want to have to smile and act like she was in love, but then she realised that no one would expect that of her right now anyway, so she angled slightly in her direction. Mikha gave her the barest hint of a smile, and the usual snark and glee of winding Jhoanna up was gone from her eyes, placed with pity instead.
“Should I kiss you on the cheek?” Mikha murmured, her lips barely moving and her voice low amidst the screams and shouts.
“Yes,” Jhoanna muttered – it was an acceptable greeting between those familiar with each other, and it would get people talking – stepping forward and reaching out for Mikha. She pressed her hand against Mikha’s back, making sure not to hold her too close – as Mikha had requested – and they both kissed each other on the cheeks, careful not to leave lipstick marks. Even more to Jhoanna’s surprise, Mikha slipped her hand in hers and loosely laced their fingers together. Masking her surprise, Jhoanna gave her what she hoped resembled a somewhat loving smile and turned to look at Yves, who came up behind her and placed a hand on Jhoanna’s shoulder.
Considering the fact that, to the public, Jhoanna was supposed to be secretly dating Mikha, even if she was really fake dating Mikha but keeping it secret for the time being, Jhoanna walked over to the royal family of Aeternus first. King Joshua gave her a warm smile, dipping his head as he held out a hand to Jhoanna. She took it and Josh kissed her on both cheeks, before putting a hand on Mikha’s shoulder. “Your Majesty,” he greeted her, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Your Majesty,” Jhoanna greeted him in return, “thank you for being here.”
“Not at all,” Josh said, waving away her thanks, before he leant in and replied quietly, “I hear that we’re to be siblings in the future anyway.”
Trying to keep her polite smile in place, Jhoanna nodded, her eyes darting to Mikha, who stood stiffly beside her, their hands still joined. After quickly greeting Martha, who looked at the joined hands with satisfaction, Jhoanna excused herself and Mikha to go and greet the next closest guest, leaving her family to make small talk with the Lim family as they followed Jhoanna’s lead. She greeted the king and queen of Zyklon next, smiling as Robert and Lea excused their son’s absence, and presented their niece to Jhoanna, who in turn, introduced them to Mikha, even though they were already acquainted.
It was almost an hour later when everyone was in their assigned pews, with Mikha being ushered into the front row alongside Jhoanna’s family. It wouldn’t go unnoticed by anyone present – everything in their world was done with precision and planning - and having someone who wasn’t family standing in the same row, beside the new queen, would raise a lot of questions. It would be good for them, considering the fact that it had been almost a month now and there were still no signs of this ending soon, and it would make the coy game that the two girls were planning on playing even more believable.
The service passed by quickly, but Jhoanna didn’t hear a word that the Archbishop spoke, and she was just stared blankly ahead, standing when Yves and Mikha dragged her to her feet, and sitting when they pushed her back down. After the brief service, Jhoanna led the procession to the main hall of the cathedral, where the four coffins were evenly placed side by side in the middle. Jhoanna couldn’t take her eyes off the dark wooden coffins, all four of them draped with the royal standard and big arrangements of red, blue and yellow flowers placed on top of each one. As was the custom in a state funeral, they were to lay there for three days, while the public were permitted to pay their respects under the guard of Amity’s household guards, in their perfectly tailored uniforms of red and blue, as they stood to attention.
She didn’t linger long there – only as long as necessary – and as soon as was acceptable, Jhoanna made to leave, with her family in tow. Mikha came too, and Jhoanna figured that it was just to be free of the tedious talk of how sad the whole affair was. They would have to put themselves through it all again at the palace, when everyone came back for a light afternoon tea and mingled. The real funeral service would be held in three day’s time, when the coffins were transported to Robles Castle – the ancestral home of Jhoanna’s family, and where all royal family members were laid to rest – and put in St. Lauren’s Chapel on the castle grounds.
The trip back to the castle was in tense silence, and Jhoanna made her way straight up to her quarters, asking Yves to make her excuses for her once everyone else returned to the castle. Today had been bad enough, and she just wanted to be alone, not stood around making polite talk with people she’d spoken to twice in her life and who couldn’t understand what she was going through at all. She didn’t want to have to pretend to be in love with Mikha right now either. The main service after the actual funeral would be bad enough, and there would be no escaping that, so Jhoanna thought she deserved to have tonight to herself to mourn the loss of her family alone. Stripping off her black clothes, Jhoanna pulled on her pyjamas and climbed into bed, pulling the covers and pillows over her head as she drowned out everything. She didn’t move for the rest of the day.
---
Three days later, once the staying was over and thousands of people had paid their respects, Jhoanna found herself following behind the coffins, followed by the rest of her family and then a significant number of foreign representatives. Several military contingents, as well as state officials, the royal household and palace staff, accompanied them too as they slowly made the royal’s final trip to their resting place. They were making their way to the train station, where they would be taken to Robles Castle and reconvene there to continue the procession, as was the custom. Jhoanna wasn’t wearing black today – she was wearing her royal blue military uniform, and the deep blue was a welcome change from the dreary black that she’d been wearing every day for the past month – and she walked along at the head of the procession with her chin raised and her face a blank mask as she tried to hold back her tears. It didn’t matter that she had never been overly close to her royal family – choosing her adoptive family and her mother’s sister over the cold distance of her father’s family – but she had still loved them despite it. Her Uncle Joseph had taken her on hunts – even thought Jhoanna would never partake in the actual hunting – and her aunt had taken her to the ballet and opera, and Jay … she would miss him the most. He was a lot older than she was, but he had treated her like his little sister whenever they were together, taking her out for meals and on one of his yachts at the seaside estate, accompanying her to small royal events that didn’t warrant the king, and sending her books he thought she’d like. Yes, she would miss him most of all.
They reached the train soon enough, and Jhoanna was left in her own carriage to distract herself. She spent the whole time sketching the view outside her window, trying to distract herself from her thoughts as the city gave way to the countryside. It took them an hour on the train to reach Robles Castle, and the procession continued, down the long walk and through the castle gates. It was a beautiful sprawling castle, and Jhoanna had visited a few times over the past few years, attending important services at the chapel and vacationing there on the occasional weekend when she wasn’t at university. She liked to be out in the countryside, and the rolling hills around the castle were beautiful for early morning walks and picnics in the summer. She made a mental note to bring Mikha there at some point – it would make for a romantic weekend to fuel their story.
Once inside the castle walls, the procession made for the chapel, and Jhoanna soon found herself stood in the front pew once more. She numbly listened to the service again, and normal funeral processions ensued. It was all over quickly, and Jhoanna found it hard to breathe once it was over – they were all really gone. They wasted no time returning to the train for the ride back to Tropical Palace in Bloom City, and there, Jhoanna was whisked away from the flashing cameras and shouting reporters outside the gates, quickly followed by the other invited guests. Jhoanna led the way to the ballroom, where the large spacious room offered enough room for everyone to mill around and talk, while enjoying the selection of foods spread out for them. As soon as Jhoanna walked into the room, the royal household guards lining the walls at intervals, and the servers holding trays of champagne, bowed in unison, and Jhoanna stood off to the left of the door. As each person walked in, she greeted them and thanked them for coming, acknowledging the slight bows and curtsies with polite smiles, before they moved on and the next person entered. She was joined by Yves and Kathryn, who stood behind her, and Colet stood further back, eyes darting around the room as she took her duties very carefully.
Once the last person had been greeted, Jhoanna exhaled slowly, fiddling with the medals pinned to the chest of her blue coat and the red sash that crossed from her left shoulder down to her right hip. She needed a drink. Turning around, she made for the nearest server, plucking a flute of champagne off the tray and draining it instantly, putting the glass down and picking up another one. As she raised it to her lips, Yves’s hand gently stopped her, and Jhoanna blinked at her in surprise, taking in the concern filled eyes.
“I’ll fetch you as much alcohol as I can later on, but you can’t afford to get drunk at the service for your own family,” Yves softly told her. “Take it easy, and keep it together for a few more hours. There’s too many eyes here.”
Jhoanna breathlessly laughed, closing her eyes for a moment before she met Yves’s gaze, “you’re right. I won’t fall apart – I promise. Now, go and mingle … everything you do now reflects upon me.”
“Your Majesty-“ Kathryn started to protest.
“I’ll be fine, Aunt Kathryn,” Jhoanna said, giving her a small smile, “besides, I need to go and find my girlfriend.”
Biting their tongues, Yves and Kathryn nodded to Jhoanna, giving her reassuring smiles as she walked off with Colet close behind her. Plucking another glass of champagne off a tray, Jhoanna scanned the room for Mikha, finding her standing in the far corner, staring up at a large painting lit up by the sun shining in through one of the massive arched windows.
“Here,” Jhoanna muttered, handing out a glass of champagne to Mikha, who took it with a small thank you. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a few moments, before Jhoanna gently pressed her hand against Mikha’s lower back, feeling her jump and tense slightly at the touch. “Relax,” Jhoanna hissed through her teeth, and Mikha’s shoulders slowly dropped as the tension bled out of them.
“This is a Hayter painting,” Mikha said, gesturing with her champagne flute to the large portrait hanging on the wall. At the look of confusion on Jhoanna’s face, Mikha rolled her eyes slightly, “he was an English painter about two hundred years ago. He painted a lot for the British royal family.”
“Ah, that’ll be the art degree then?” Jhoanna asked, a small smile on her lips.
Mikha nodded, her eyes roaming over the painting, “yes. You don’t sound like you approve.”
“You’ll just tell me it’s none of my business anyway,” Jhoanna muttered, “but it’s hardly useful in our lives.”
“Exactly!” Mikha quietly exclaimed, smiling as she took a sip of champagne, “and it infuriates my mother to no end. Now you – you have a political science degree, and you probably play piano and took ballet lessons, right?” Jhoanna nodded at the arched eyebrow Mikha gave her. “I thought so. You’re the perfect example of everything a princess should be, and I wouldn’t let my mom turn me into that. Hence the red hair at boarding school. She can’t even be angry though, because archery, fencing and polo are respectable pastimes for a noble … she just doesn’t think they’re fitting for a princess. She couldn’t object to me choosing to learn Latin either, because it’s the root of many words, even if it’s a dead language. She also can’t control which charities I donate my money to, or which social and political rallies and protests I attend. It annoys her to no end that she can’t control me and mould me into this perfect princess … like you.”
Jhoanna let out a surprised laugh, “do you do everything out of spite?”
“Everything,” Mikha firmly replied, a glint in her eyes as she looked at Jhoanna, “which is why I’m bitter than just this once, she has the upper hand. With this contract, if she says jump I have to ask how high, or risk losing everything. It doesn’t mean that I can’t do it in my own way though, so that’s something.”
“Care to share?”
Smiling, Mikha shrugged, leaning in closer, “maybe another day. I don’t think this is the right place to discuss how we’re going to trick everyone into thinking we’re in love.”
Jhoanna reached up and pretended to brush a piece of lint off the shoulder of Mikha’s black dress, “well, I think we’re doing well enough for now.”
“Mm, but for now, we’re pretending that we’re badly pretending to not be in love – or as I like to call it, being honest – so when we have to actually pretend, then we’ll be in trouble.”
“What’re you two whispering about,” a voice behind them said, and both girls whirled around, Jhoanna’s heart pounding in her chest. It was just George, who Jhoanna had only briefly been able to see earlier. “Your Majesty, Your Highness,” George said, dipping into a curtsy.
Jhoanna gave her a small smile, “George, hello. Sorry I haven’t had the chance to meet with you properly yet. Things have been …”
“Not at all,” George smiled at her, a look of pity on her face, “seeing Jasmine mourn for your cousin has been bad enough, I can’t imagine the grief you’re feeling at losing everyone. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Jhoanna said, before realising that Mikha was awkwardly stood off to the side. Jhoanna gestured to her and gave George a tight smile. “May I formally introduce you to Princess Mikha of Aeternus.”
George repeated the respectful greeting she had a moment before, and Mikha dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I assure you that I am doing everything in my power to find a way out of this situation.”
“I appreciate it,” Mikha replied, taking a sip of her champagne as she gave George a cool look.
“Your Majesty,” another voice said, as a hand came down on George’s shoulder and a kissed was placed to her temple. “Darling.”
Jhoanna gave the tall man a smile, “James. May I introduce you to Princess Mikha of Aeternus.” He gave her a slight bow, and Mikha acknowledged it with another nod. “She is my, ah, girlfriend.”
His eyes widened in surprise, speechless as he looked at the two of them, “girlfriend? This is new. I had no idea you were even seeing someone – you didn’t mention it when I was in town last month for some business.”
Giving him an apologetic smile, Jhoanna shrugged slightly, “well, you know how the media is. No one really knows at the moment, but I’m sure the story will be everywhere soon. What with all of … this.”
He gave her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for your loss. I loved your cousin very much.”
“Thank you, James,” Jhoanna said.
“I’m glad that you’ve found someone though. Gian will be shocked, that’s for sure. I’m assuming you haven’t told him either?”
Mikha smiled slightly, tilting her head to the side, as she put a hand on Jhoanna’s back, “my apologies. I prefer to keep my relationships on the quiet side, and given the nature of our families, well … I didn’t want to risk messing everything up. Jhoanna was quite a darling and agreed to keep it a secret for me, so only our families know at the moment. Of course, I wouldn’t dream of staying away from her with all of this tragedy going on right now, so I think the story will be coming out soon.” Jhoanna took a drink to stop herself from laughing as Mikha called her darling, and span the whole thing into some secret love affair that painted them as a caring and loving couple.
“No need to apologise,” James said, flashing her a wide smile, looking genuinely happy for them both, “I’m relieved to know that Jhoanna has someone else to help support her through this difficult time. So, how long have you been seeing each other?”
“It's coming up to six months now, isn’t that right, love?” Mikha asked, turning to give Jhoanna a forced, sweet smile. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, as if she was happy, but there was no warmth in them as Jhoanna met her stare. She wrinkled her nose as she returned the smile.
“Mhm.”
George bit back a smile at the whole show that the two girls were putting on, while James really seemed surprised by the whole thing. She was legally bound not to disclose any personal information with anyone, and so he had no idea that they were fake dating and he hadn’t known that they were fake secretly dating either. Gian joined them not long after, seeing his friends all gathered in the corner, and he was just as surprised as James was and George pretended to be. With a promise off them all that they wouldn’t tell a soul, Jhoanna had to excuse herself to mingle with other guests, so as not to seem rude, and Mikha accompanied her with Matthew and Colet in tow.
---
As soon as she could secretly slip away, Jhoanna left the ballroom and hurried through the hallways and up the main staircase. She was tired and upset, and she just wanted to go to sleep. Today had been exhausting and she was tired of keeping a small smile in place and pretending that she was handling it all well. Things had gone well with Mikha over the past couple of days, and she was grateful that Mikha was walking around on eggshells – if only to spare Jhoanna the extra stress right now – but was already dreading how things would go once everything settled down.
Inside her rooms, with Colet standing guard outside, Jhoanna stripped off her military uniform and left a trail of clothes to her bedroom. Slipping on a pair of pale pink pyjamas, feeling more like herself without the black or the uniforms, Jhoanna walked into the bathroom and started to wipe off her makeup. Beneath it all, she was pale and her face was drawn, her eyes hollow and ringed by dark bags. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she started to break down. All of her suppressed grief came to the surface, and tears ran down her cheeks as her shoulders shook with sobs.
She walked back out to the sofa in the living room, and she curled herself up into a ball, crying until she couldn’t cry anymore, and then she sat there a little while longer, clutching a pillow to her chest as she shuddered with the occasional broken sob. It wasn’t until a knock on the door that she moved, turning her head to look at the white and gold gilt door. She didn’t want to answer it, but then the knock came again, louder this time and more urgent.
With a sigh she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in.”
The door was pushed open, and Mikha poked her head in, taking in the sight of Jhoanna sitting on the sofa. She was angled away from Mikha, so that she could only see the side of Jhoanna's face, and she didn’t look up as Mikha opened the door up wider and stepped inside.
“I don’t want to disturb you,” Mikha murmured, “I just came to see if you need anything.”
Jhoanna let out a tearful laugh, “you don’t have to be nice to me.”
“I know,” Mikha softly said, “I’m not being nice. I was going to get someone else to do it for you if you did.”
Jhoanna let out another laugh, choking on it as a sob wracked her body. “That’s more like it.”
Sighing, Mikha shut the door behind her and hesitantly crossed the room. Jhoanna didn’t look up at her, but she blinked in surprise as a teacup and saucer was placed down on the low coffee table in front of her. She sniffed, trying to subtly wipe at her eyes, while Mikha awkwardly stood nearby, even though it was obvious that she had been crying.
“Thank you.”
“I, uh, I heard that holding a cup of tea, um, mimics the warmth of human contact. I thought it might … help.”
Jhoanna burst out laughing, looking up at Mikha with an amused look on her face. Mikha looked taken aback by the outburst, and the red, puffy eyes, and a small crease appeared between her eyebrows. “You thought that the warmth of human contact would help, so you brought me a cup of tea instead of a real person?”
The crease disappeared, and Mikha let out a quiet laugh as she smiled at Jhoanna. “Well, we both know I’m not exactly the comforting type, so I thought this would be a good alternative. I can fetch your sister for you if you’d like.”
Reaching out, Jhoanna picked up the tea and help it in her hands. Perhaps Mikha was right, because as the warmth spread into her hands, she did feel a little bit better. With a sigh, Mikha sat down on the sofa at an adjacent angle, balling her hands into fists as she hunched her shoulders. “Listen, Jhoanna … I’m not a nice person. I’m not warm, or kind or compassionate. I am sorry that you have to go through this, and I’ll try my hardest to be as civil as possible, but, uh, well, I’m not bloody good at ... this.” She gestured at a tearful Jhoanna.
“Don’t worry, I don’t want your pity,” Jhoanna muttered, taking a sip of the tea, “and I don’t expect you to be the caring girlfriend. Not even in front of the cameras. Just … we’ll have to pretend that we’re in love though, so can you at least try that?”
“I tried it today, and the other day,” Mikha said.
“Yeah, and how’s that been working out for you,” Jhoanna snorted.
There were two little biscuits on the saucer too, and she picked one up and gave it to Mikha, who murmured her thanks. Jhoanna looked at her expectantly, and Mikha shrugged halfheartedly. “It is what it is. Either way, we have to give it a try. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it wasn’t exactly what I’d like to be doing in my spare time.”
“Mm, I’d hardly call it spare time,” Jhoanna murmured, “it’s more like a job.”
Mikha snorted, taking a bite out of her biscuit, “pretending to be in love is a job?”
Jhoanna shrugged, “well actors do it all the time.”
“For a few months maybe … we’re talking about a lifetime. Just wait until we have to kiss and act all lovey dovey in public. I’m sure you’ll be less impressed then than you are now.”
Rolling her eyes, Jhoanna gave Mikha a grim smile. “Kiss me now.”
“What!?” Mikha spluttered, leaning away from Jhoanna slightly, as if she was afraid Jhoanna was going to jump her. “Are you having a fucking laugh? I’m not going to bloody kiss you.”
“You’re right; we have to kiss at some point,” Jhoanna shrugged, “may as well get it over and done with now so we know what to expect. At least then it’ll look more natural ... like we do it all the time. You know, like we’re a real couple. If our first kiss is in public, it'll be an awkward mess.”
Frowning, Mikha gave Jhoanna a wary look, before she relented with a sigh. “Fine, but only because you’re miserable and I happen to know I’m an excellent kisser, so it might cheer you up a bit.”
Letting out a laugh, Jhoanna rolled her eyes and set her tea down. Taking a deep breath, she beckoned to Mikha, “come on then, princess. I’ll be the judge of that, and besides … I can’t get more miserable, can I?”
Snorting with laughter, Mikha shifted to the end of the sofa, and Jhoanna shifted to the end of hers, and Mikha half-rose off her seat to bridge the gap between them. Jhoanna closed her eyes as Mikha’s slightly cold hand cupped her cheek, and she was surprised at the gentleness, and even more surprised a moment later when Mikha placed a soft kiss to Jhoanna’s lips. It didn’t last long, and a few moments later, Mikha drew back and fully rose to her feet.
“Well?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at Jhoanna as she looked down at her.
“I’ve had better,” Jhoanna lied, a small smile playing on the corners of her lips as she looked up at Mikha. Her lips tingled slightly, and she reached out for the teacup as she willed herself not to blush. Mikha let out a quiet laugh of surprise as she started walking towards the doors.
“Liar.”