Page 6 of Mated to the Crown

I watch as she leaves my grandmother’s room, a flood of emotions filling me.

I had worried that I would turn out like my father, forced into a political marriage and here was my answer.

But is it an answer? She is not of a Royal line.

There is no way that the family would approve of this situation.

If we were blessed by the Goddess though, they wouldn’t have a choice.

My head begins to ache again and I look back at my grandmother. She didn’t do anything to her and I know it deep in my gut.

“I’m sorry for not being here. I am glad you are no longer in pain.

” I place my hand gently on her shoulder before stepping out of the room and looking for Morgan.

I find him quickly and pull him to the side, telling him I visited her and she had passed, conveniently leaving out the whole part about finding my mate. I still don’t even know her name.

Who would know her?

Jeffries. He knows everybody.

Morgan will start the preparations and notifications for Charlotte and I will find Jeffries. It is a shit plan, we have hundreds of servants, but if I can find her name maybe I can find more about her.

Morgan disappears and I walk the other way, seeking out Jeffries. I pass through the familiar halls, suddenly feeling no familiarity to them.

Is the Goddess punishing me? Is she trying to break up my family? Is she teaching me a lesson?

I have less responsibilities than my cousins do. Maybe I should see a mage myself to get some answers, one on the payroll, so they won’t squeal to anyone.

I walk down the hallways on auto pilot, my mind racing like a speeding train trying to decipher and process everything.

She is my mate. It is the first time anyone is mated out of a Royal lineage, something that will inevitably be brought up multiple times.

There are fewer Royal families nowadays anyway and we have been resorting to lesser status to marry off.

The whole thing is a crapshoot and secretly I am relieved to be breaking away from it.

She is my mate. I have no other choice. If my family doesn’t agree, we will flee somewhere else. That’s it. My mind is made up, but can I make up her mind? I turn a final corner and see Jeffries busying himself with his notebook, quickly jotting things down.

“Jeffries, just the man I wanted to see.” I smile and stride toward him. He stands and gives a little bow.

“Your Highness. How may I help you?” Jefferies has been in the family forever. He is a tall, lanky fellow with graying hair but a quick attitude to him and a no bullshit philosophy. He is dressed similarly to Morgan, black suit with shiny black shoes.

“I need your help figuring out a servant.” I smile.

“Of course, Sir.” He pulls out his notebook, flipping through the pages. “Where do they work?”

“Not sure, to tell the truth. Would a description suffice?” I rub the back of my head, not entirely sure. He snaps his notebook closed and gives me a nod. “Brown hair, light brown. Blue eyes but pale. She is fuller. She was in a plain white dress with a brown apron.”

“Ah yes, either Lyra or Celeste it sounds like. Curly hair?” I shake my head no and he smiles. “Celeste then, Sir. She works in the lower levels, and has a myriad of odd jobs. She reports to Stella.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. If you find her can you let her know I am looking for her? I have something to discuss with her. She has been visiting Charlotte and I want to speak with her about it.” Jeffries stiffens.

“Of course. Is there something wrong?” He always takes everything personal but I smile and shake my head no.

“No, not at all. Just want to commend her on spending such quality time with Charlotte.” I pat Jeffries on the shoulder and he nods again before heading back to his notebook. Celeste, my Princess.

I find my way back to my grandmother’s room which is now filled with people.

Two doctors from the morgue are there, my parents, uncle and aunt, Morgan and a few of the head staff for the servants.

It is busy and I step back, motioning for Morgan to come to me.

He pushes through the crowd and we step onto the balcony, the cool air whipping around us as the breeze picks up.

“Passed naturally. No cause for concern. I told everyone you found her and they will be preparing to take her and get her ready for the funeral. It will be in two weeks unless Queen Isla decides differently.” I nod, this is good. It will keep everyone away from me for a while so I can find Celeste.

“And you?” I ask, looking at him.

My grandmother had hired him personally and they had a platonic friendship, but I can see the hurt in his eyes.

“It is sad. I will grieve in my own time. Go take a break and I will make sure to keep you updated with this.” He speaks quietly.

“Thank you, Morgan.” I’m not sure where to go but the day just got fucked, in more ways than one.

Without knowing what to do I just head to the garden.

It’s moments like this I wish my family was closer.

I wish we could talk about things without stabbing each other in the back, but that isn’t my life.

I have to choose what to do. Potentially abdicate any position my mother has tried to set me up with and be with my mate?

Hope that their views on it change and that I can be with her with no issues?

I can’t think right now and my headache is crawling back up my spine.

I find a bench and lay down, crossing my arms behind my head and closing my eyes.

The clouds lazily drift across the sky, sheltering the sunlight from dropping down and making it the perfect darkness. I let my mind drift away.

◆◆◆

I wake up a few hours later, stretching my stiff body and standing up. I was not expecting to be here that long. Fuck, it had been forever since I was alone enough to even do that.

I stretch, feeling my muscles protesting as I do.

The sun is still in the sky, so it is probably afternoon, but I should go find Jeffries or Morgan.

I straighten my outfit the best I can and make my way inside.

The castle is busy, but not as busy as usual, and that is when I hear the servants talking.

“They called us to the foyer.”

“Do you know why?”

“They never do that. Something must have happened.”

Interesting . I follow behind them and when I get close enough for them to see me, they quiet their chatter. They follow the rest of the crowd into the foyer but I stop short, taking off to another hallway where I know Jeffries is. He looks up at me confused and then gives me a small smile.

“This is to talk about the late Queen Charlotte. Celeste should be here. I can let you know if I see her.” I nod and cross my arms, waiting behind him.

He enters the foyer but I don’t follow, listening to him speak instead.

I don’t even know what I will do, if she is here.

I don’t know what to do, if she isn’t for that matter.

My mind still is all over the place. Does she even know who I am to her?

Probably not. It seems like she thinks I am a Royal and that is all, dismissing anything else.

I hear my name and step into the room, giving a half smile as I look for her.

I speak bluntly, asking for any information regarding my grandmother, and when I don’t see Celeste I feel a clench in my chest. They are dismissed and I stay behind, tucking myself in the corner of the room to see her.

I spot her, hand clenched to another man’s.

He waves her off like it’s a weird thing for her to be touching him, and that soothes the ache in my chest slightly.

She motions to what I assume is her sister, a smaller version of herself with very curly hair.

Jeffries had mentioned that’s the main difference between the two and I can see it now.

She is pretty, but she doesn’t make me frantic like Celeste does.

I watch as Celeste sneaks out of the room and outside. A smirk pulls on my lips. Perfect.

I follow after her, waiting behind to see where she goes. The gardens are beautiful this time of day and I can imagine kissing her in between the flowers. I shake my head and move to the gardens, ignoring the chattering behind me. All of them don’t matter, what matters is her.

I catch up to her quickly but stay behind, watching her as she moves. Her hips sway, her gait calm and smooth as she moves through the gardens. Her hands touch the flowers, their petals moving against her fingertips. I lean against the tree, crossing my arms and watching her.

“There you are, Princess.” When she turns her face is a mixture of confusion, surprise, and then anger. Her eyebrows scrunch together, her cheeks brightening to the cutest pink.

We talk as we walk through the gardens and I’m surprised at how little she knows about me.

I have tried to stay under the radar, but even the family knows I like to ignore the rules.

I like to do my own thing. She asks me what I want to do with my life, and I honestly don’t know what to say. I’ve never been asked that before.

The sun shifts behind the clouds, sending a shiver through her and without thinking I pull off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She turns around, eyes wide with fear.

“Nobody is going to see, relax.” I watch as she pulls the jacket closer against her. She pulls the fabric up to her nose, smelling me and it sends blood right to my cock. “So, what about you? What do you want to do?” I try to move the topic along while I adjust myself.

“I don’t know. I was born here, I will probably die here.” She waves her hand, but she doesn’t move to hand me my jacket back, and I take that as a small win.

“Yeah me too. Who knows, we could always run away.” I smirk, being completely honest. Her gaze meets mine and she smiles.

“I mean that would be some fantasy, running away with the Prince.” She turns and starts walking again, so I follow after her, my hands behind my back.

“And what would happen in that fantasy?” I ask, hoping she will tell me but she scoffs again. “Theoretically, obviously.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know you, so I can’t say anything specific in that case. I guess just running away, going on an adventure. If we are talking fantasy then falling in love.” She shrugs, her blush running down her neck to her chest.

I pull my gaze away, focusing on the flowers in front of us.

“Then let’s do that. It sounds amazing.”

She laughs in response to my remark, her voice carrying through the garden. The sound of her laughter makes my heart ache and I wonder just how much she is allowed to laugh in her position. I know some of the family go hard on the servants, my aunt’s family specifically.

“That would get us both killed, surely.” She finally mutters.

I reach out, taking her hand in mine and pulling her to a stop.

She tries to pull her hand from mine but my fingers grasp around it. The warmth from her small hand in mine sends a shiver through me.

“Listen.” My voice drops and I look down at our hands.

Do I tell her?

I don’t even have my own shit figured out yet.

I look up, taking my hand and brushing my knuckles across her jaw.

She leans into my touch, her eyes meeting mine, and all I can think about is the dreams. The dreams of her and me, without any political attachments.

The dreams of us living our life. But how do I get that?

Do we just run away like the fantasy I mentioned?

Do we try and make it work? Would she even want to be a Queen?

“What is this?” She finally breaks the silence, her eyes brimming with tears.

I swipe my thumb as one trickles down her cheek.

“This is a fantasy. Some silly dream a mage is playing on me, right? You aren’t real.” Her words tighten my chest.

“This is very real, Princess.” My hand cups her cheek and I lean forward.

Her eyes flutter as she looks at me, the light blue with specks of gold throughout are highlighted by the sun poking back out from the clouds. Her cheeks are pink with a twinge of blush and her mouth is slightly parted, those beautiful, pouty lips.

“But it can’t be. You're a Prince. I’m nobody.” Her voice comes out as a whisper but she doesn’t pull away. Her hand slides against my chest and the burn of her fingertips spread outwards across my skin.

“You are more than nobody, Celeste. You are mine.” I lean forward, about to kiss her when she reels backward, pulling her hand from me.

“What? I am not yours, that’s for fucking sure. I’m no whore.” She rips the jacket off and hands it back to me, her eyes wide. She turns and leaves and I just stand there, holding the jacket in one hand and wondering what to do. She is a spitfire, and I fucking love it.