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Your Royal Highness,
we haven't heard from each other in quite a long time. But I am sure you still remember our agreement. That favor you owed me. I would like to come and collect it.
You see, my beautiful granddaughter Elizabeth had her debut today. I have seen the available gentlemen swarming her and have found them to be lacking in various qualities.
Never could I agree to a union between my dear Elizabeth and one of the many bachelors that only want her for her generous dowry.
She is worth so much more than that.
So, my dear old friend, I implore you to come through and pay your dues.
Make my granddaughter a queen.
Yours sincerely,
Lord G. W. Grumman
-
"I have chosen a bride for you."
Roy's hand stills over the chessboard, lingering a breath away from the queen he was about to move.
"What?"
The Royal Princess looks at him with a face made of stone. She takes a long drag from her pipe - a gift from a Royal from Xing - and lets out a long puff of smoke. The soft gray tendrils curl around her dark curls that would soon see the first silver streaks. She wasn't a young woman anymore.
"You are the King of this country, you are not a boy anymore. Your duty is to ensure the line of Mustang and provide an heir for your people. You will marry on your one-and-twentiest birthday."
Roy looks at his late father's sister, his aunt, his mother figure, like she had grown a second head.
"And who exactly am I marrying," he mutters, still too taken aback by the situation to treat it with the proper amount of seriousness.
"The granddaughter of Lord Grumman, from the East. Surely you remember him from the royal banquets? He is quite the life of every party. He is also from a great lineage, has very fruitful lands and is able to provide for his people without raising taxes to an ungodly rate. So the young lady will make a respectable wife for you when the time comes."
"What is she like? Is she pretty?"
Chris' face sours.
"Her looks should not be your first concern Roy. She is going to be your wife, not a doll. Lord Grumman assured me that she was of impeccable beauty, but he did not send a portrait."
Years later, Roy would learn that the young Lady Elizabeth had been too much of a tomboy to sit still for a portrait. He would laugh at that and tell Lord Grumman that all he'd had to do was to have to give her a book to read, as she wouldn't move for hours once engrossed in a text.
But as a young king in his twentieth year, Roy only feels chastised by his aunt's words. He does not wish to get married, especially not to a strange girl he's never met. He likes flirting with the young ladies at the court, enjoyes dancing with a pretty face in a beautiful gown at a ball. He enjoyes their little snickers when he told them something flattering, the way their cheeks would blush and their eyes would sparkle.
He glowers at his aunt.
"I am not going to just go along with this, Aunt Chris. I want to see her first. Talk to her. I have to know that she is not dull. I cannot give you an heir with a wife that I loathe. You must allow me this."
Chris looks at him for a long time, her mouth set in a slight scowl. She takes another drag of her pipe and sighs.
"The king cannot meet his bride before the wedding. Her grandfather would never allow that. It is against tradition. Also he would be afraid either of you could bolt."
Roy's lips thin into a smile. He has heard exactly what his aunt has just said.
-
The first time he sees Lady Elizabeth is when she hands him the reins to her horse after she hopped off its back, swinging her pant-clad leg over the saddle.
She gives him a quick glance and hides a sheepish smile.
"Please see to it that he is cleaned and dried off with care. We were down at the beach and I am afraid I chased him around quite a bit. He is a little sweaty. I'd do it myself, but…"
She sighs and gives a wistful look towards the main house. Roy can glimpse the imposing structure from the stables and wonders what she means.
"I'm afraid I'm late. But I will be back in the evening with some treats. He loves snacking."
She gives the horse a gentle stroke on his head, then she turns to him, looking at him with big brown eyes. Roy cannot help but stare. He could get lost in those whisky eyes.
"You're new here, stable boy, right? Sorry, I did not catch your name."
Roy swallows hard. When he finally finds his voice, it is a little shaky.
"It's Roy. You can call me Roy."
She flashes him a smile and turns to leave.
"See you later then - Roy!"
Roy stares at her retrieving form. He has done it. He has seen her. And he doesn't find her dull. He should leave.
He doesn't.
-
Riza hates dancing. She doesn't enjoy the movements, the steps. It is all too coordinated, too strict. She doesn't want to follow a pattern of steps - preordained by someone else, dictating how she has to move and when.
She also hates the gentleman she has to talk to - who boast about their lands, and their ranks and how well bred their families are. She doesn't care for any of it.
She usually excuses herself at some point and makes a run for it. Her hiding places are various - she hates being predictable, lest she be found and dragged back.
Tonight her chosen sanctuary is in the stables. Usually at this point in time she will be alone with the horses. And that is preferable to her.
It turns out that she isn't, though. The new stable boy is propped up against one of the horse boxes, an oil lamp by his side, quietly enjoying a smoke with a book dangling from his hands. He looks up at her once he hears her approaching. He doesn't get up, just flashes her a smile.
Riza decides she likes that.
"Evening milady. Not enjoying the ball? Or did you get lost on your own properties?"
Riza's eyes narrow at his impertinence. She picks up her skirts and walks over to him, her steps purposefully firm on the floor. Then she simply plops down next to him and takes the cigarette from his fingers.
She can feel his eyes on her as she takes a drag. It tastes nasty and she has to keep herself from coughing. But she succeeds: He is stunned into silence.
"What? Have you never seen a lady smoke before?"
Riza is bathing in her triumph. Impertinent stable Roy is speechless and she is loving it. Her gaze falls onto the book that somehow had fallen to the floor. She picks it up with her free hand and looks it over.
"What are you reading? Astronomy?"
He clears his throat, probably searching for his voice. She gives him a pointed look as he takes the cigarette back and takes another drag, longer than hers had been. Apparently he likes challenges.
"Maybe I like science," he says, his eyes all but glued to hers. "Or maybe I just like looking at the stars."
-
A month goes by and Roy keeps coming back to the Grumman estate. He is good at sneaking out of the palace or going on spontaneous trips for his education. His aunt doesn't comment. He doubts that he has her fooled, though.
Thankfully Lady Elizabeth is a passionate rider. She frequents the stables often, even to just spend time with the animals. She would spend hours brushing them down, cleaning their hooves and feeding them treats.
They would chat then.
Roy discovers that she loves reading and she enjoys playing chess. One time she relays to him that she learned to play the piano, like any proper lady, but would get so flustered when asked to perform, that she would make mistakes. Everyone thought her an untalented player.
One day she arrives with a basket of beautifully polished apples, glowing red cheeks and smooth skin.
He is surprised to see her hand him a wrapped parcel. When he opens it, he discovers a generous slice of apple pie, still slightly warm and glistening in the sun.
"I keep bringing them treats, so I thought you might enjoy something sweet as well…"
He looks at her down-cast eyes, her expression uncharacteristically uncertain. Her voice is quiet as it trails off at the end.
He grins at her and holds the hand holding the pie out to her.
"Wanna split?"
-
Riza finds herself drawn to Roy like a moth to the flame. She knows she shouldn't talk to him, shouldn't seek him out, but she can't stop herself. He is so different. He doesn't treat her like the other servants do, he doesn't cast down his eyes. He doesn't bow to her.
He also doesn't act like she is a price to be won if he just boasts enough about his own greatness.
They ride out together. Barry attempts to throw him off right away, so she gives him a calmer mare to ride. She takes to him quickly.
One rainy afternoon they spend hours on a chess match. Each turn takes forever, both of them scheming to win the battle and defeat the other. It ends in a draw.
There are many times however, when she cannot find him. She doesn't mention it to anyone, she doesn't want Roy to get into trouble. Yet every time she ventures into the stables and finds them devoid of him, she feels a little pang in her heart.
-
It happens slowly, without her even noticing.
One time their fingers brush, as she hands over her reins. Another time his shoulders brush against hers as they both try to squeeze through the door at the same time.
One time her head sinks against his shoulder as they are engrossed in a book and she is getting drowsy.
He holds her back at the arm, so she doesn't walk into a hidden wasp's nest.
They huddle together under a tree as a heavy rain surprises them. The air around them is cold, their clothes are damp leaving their skin covered in goosebumps.
She finds her gaze drawn to his lips when he's eating, staring at it when he is saying something clever, nearly losing herself when he is smiling at her.
One time he licks away a speck of marmalade that has stuck to the corner of his mouth and she wants to topple him over and just kiss it away. She almost hates him for it.
-
Roy grins at her.
"I love it when you do that."
She looks at him puzzled. Her hand on the horse's mane stills.
"What?"
"The little snort. When you laugh. I love that."
Her hands fall to her sides and she looks at him with a horrified look in her eyes. She looks almost haunted. Roy wants to punch himself. How is it possible for him to ruin such a beautiful moment? They had been laughing together and now suddenly he had embarrassed her. What an idiot he was.
Her lips press against his before he even registers her moving. They are soft and warm, and oh so shy. Roy's mind goes silent as he draws her close and crushes her mouth with his. If he had been unsure until now, he is certain.
He is going to marry this girl.
-
Ruin me, she thinks. He has to ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me!
After she emerges from her grandfather's study she storms off to find him. Her wonderful, stupid, awful, charming stable boy.
She feels like she's been sold off like cattle. No amount of pleading had helped her. She will be sent to the palace tomorrow, to marry the king. A man she has never even met. She will not have it. If her grandfather won't listen to her, she must act on her own.
The king certainly will not want ruined goods. He legally can't. She must be virtuous to be wed to a king.
She wipes the tears from her eyes and runs to find Roy.
He looks surprised as she strides into the stables and catches him by the hem of his shirt to draw him in for a kiss. His hands are uncertain as she firmly places them on her, but his mouth is eagerly responding to her call. He holds her close to him as she wraps her arms around his neck.
Their kissing grows hotter, his tongue feverishly searching her mouth, their lips crushing against each other again and again.
Once they are done devouring each other, he holds her to his chest. His heartbeat is racing almost faster than hers. She feels a warm heaviness in her middle, like she couldn't move away from him even if she wanted to.
"Run away with me," she says.
Roy doesn't reply, only wraps his arms around her tighter and holds her closer.
When she wakes from her slumber, she is alone.
-
The ride to the palace is the longest she has ever had. It also doesn't last long enough. When they finally arrive, her grandfather presents her like a prized crown jewel.
The gaze of the Royal Princess is hard. Riza doesn't feel any fear. She doesn't feel anything.
Her life will be over soon, she knows. The inspection of her body will not be in her favor and she will be turned away at best. Her chances of a good marriage will be gone. But they already had been, when her grandfather had doomed her to this fate. His ambitions were her downfall.
Her grandfather is just as surprised as her when he inquires after the proceedings of her evaluation.
"The royal doctor is sadly not available before the wedding. The king trusts no one else with his bride. He takes your word as a guarantee."
Riza swallows hard. If the king doesn't notice, or maybe even care, that she is no longer a virgin, she will be chained to him for the rest of her life. She casts a look at her grandfather, who slowly nods. And that is it. The deal is done.
She will have to get married.
All Riza wants to do is scream.
-
She is lying in bed, trying to think about her escape plan. Tomorrow morning she will be woken up, laced in a ridiculously stiff gown and not once will she have the time to even eat or sit down. She will be under the watchful eyes of countless people who will make sure that she will do as she is told, like a good pawn.
But she can't think of a way out. She is up too high to climb out of the windows, her room is locked, and even though she had searched everywhere, there seemed to be no secret door. She is at a loss what to do.
Maybe she will die in her sleep? That would certainly spare her a lot of grief.
A knock disturbs the quiet of her despair.
Riza sits up. It didn't come from the door, she is sure of it.
Another knock.
She turns towards the direction of one of the bookshelves in the corner of her room.
"Hello?"
"Shh!"
She crawls out of bed and steps over, schooling her voice into a bare whisper.
"Hello?" she asks again, as she approaches the source of the noise.
"Lady Elizabeth," the whispy voice behind the bookshelf says. It definitely is a man's voice.
"Who are you?" she asks as quietly as possible, so that no one outside of her chamber could hear.
"I am the man you are going to marry tomorrow."
She stared. "The king?"
"Yes."
"Your Majesty, may I ask what you are doing here?"
Her heart hammers loudly against her chest. He doesn't sound unpleasant. And then there is a nervous chuckle behind the wall.
"I just wanted to talk to you. I'm sorry, we are not allowed to see each other. I think this was a doorway once, but it has been nailed shut. But at least we can talk."
Riza raises an eyebrow.
"What is there to talk about, your majesty? We will get married tomorrow. There is nothing I can do to change that."
Another chuckle. This time, less nervous. Riza knows that she probably just offended the king. She doesn't find it in herself to care.
"I am sure you tried. I just wanted to say… Well. If you would let me, I will spend the rest of my life loving you. Please. None of this was ever meant to hurt you, you must know this. But if you can find it in yourself to forgive me, then I promise you that no man will ever love you as much as I will. Till the end of time."
Riza stares at the talking bookshelf incredulously. Roy's gentle eyes and his beautiful smile flash before her eyes. She knows what it feels like to be loved. She doubts that she will find that again. She also knows what it feels like when that love is taken away.
She doesn't know why he abandoned her. She doesn't want to think about it too much. Maybe he hadn't really loved her. She had felt it. But maybe it had been a lie. A beautiful lie that she had chosen to believe.
Did she want to believe again?
"You speak about love and yet you have never seen me."
There is a long pause on the other side of the book case before she can hear the low whisper again.
"I can see you quite clearly, Lady Elizabeth. Your adventurous temperament, your natural curiosity, your stubbornness, the way you can make me smile and warm my heart with only a few words. And I wish to see so much more of you. Will you please let me?"
Riza is stunned. She doesn't know how to reply to his request. She can't believe she is talking to the king in the middle of the night through some kind of secret door. She would never have pictured this. So she flees.
"It's getting late and I need to sleep. You should rest too, your majesty. You have a wedding to attend tomorrow."
There is something wondrous in his voice when he finally whispers one last thing.
"I cannot wait for it."
-
When Riza finally gazes at him the world comes to a sudden stop.
Everything finally falls into place. The way he had held himself, never humble like a servant, always cocky with her, as if he had nothing to lose. The way she had felt him seizing her up, watching her whenever he thought she wouldn't notice.
How the palace had called upon her after they had kissed, informing her that she needed to come and marry the king. The way he hadn't hesitated to hold her against him in the most intimate way when she had asked him to.
The redundancy of her to have to prove herself as pure. Of course he hadn't needed that. He had already had her, taken her. She had always been his, right from the very beginning.
She finally realizes that she had stopped walking towards him. She is simply standing there, in the great hall, gaping at him. Slowly she starts to feel the curious eyes boring into her. She can hear the first murmuring starting.
She turns her gaze back to the man she is supposed to marry, to Roy, her beautiful heartless stable boy - the king.
She watches him as he moves, slowly coming towards her, each of his steps clearly heard on the marble flooring. When he reaches her, he looks her deeply in the eyes, his gaze intense, but unreadable.
She thinks he might pull her into an embrace, but instead he purposefully kneels down in front of her.
"Fair Lady Elizabeth Grumman. I, Roy Mustang, king of this country, will set aside my crown and speak as a humble man to you. I know I have wronged you and I beg your forgiveness. I offer you my heart to do with as you please, and my hand if you will have it."
His dark eyes are burning and finally she understands the feeling behind it. Pure desperation. Determination. Hope. Fear. Love.
"What do you say, Elizabeth?"
Her name is a soft whisper on his lips, barely audible to the people closest to them. Like a little prayer from the firmest believer.
She could lose herself in those eyes.
She takes his hand and pulls him into a standing position.
"It is only just that you offer me your heart. You have already stolen mine, you thief."
Loud gasps can be heard from the people around them. No one calls the king a mere criminal. It is a treasonous act of blasphemy.
But Roy only smiles brightly and draws her into a long kiss. Riza thinks she hears one of the gentle ladies faint at the sight. She doesn't care and enjoys Roy's tight embrace and his hungry mouth.
Until someone clears their throat. They both look at the priest.
"What about the wedding, your majesty? Shall we proceed?"
Roy looks at Riza, his eyes shining with mirth. They both grin at each other and declare in unison:
"I do."
Roy has just set the record for the shortest royal wedding ceremony in history. He can live with that.