The Last York Prince [AU]

Drunk In Love

Harry was wearing red and gold, red being the Lancasterian colour and gold to show his status as prince. Richard, was wearing his signature dark colour, in contrast of his fair skin.

Richard bowed before Harry. Harry was fiddling with his rings before he spoke.

"I would like to..., apologise. I did not mean to offend you", said Harry.

Richard stood before his younger brother and kissed his hair. "Apology accepted, but never ask me that again", Richard said, sternly.

Freja walked out from the bedroom, dressed in dark green colour. The cloth of her dress was a gift from the queen.

"Your Grace, how nice it is to see you", Freja curtsied before Harry.

"I have just come to ask Richard to sit next to me, as always".

"Not tonight, brother. Lord Stafford and other noblemen have asked me to join their table for a..., game", Richard smiled.

"Don't worry, Your Grace. You can sit next to me", Freja smiled.

Richard sat with Stafford and other noble lords during the feast. Freja took her husband's seat next to the queen.

Lizzie watched Freja's expression when she saw how the ladies flocked the table where Richard and Stafford were occupying. Lizzie placed her hand above Freja's.

"I know my son. I know he would not dishonour you, let alone out in public like this", said Lizzie.

Freja only smiled. "I know, lady mother. I know that..., his heart is in my keeping. Only death can separate us".

Richard and Stafford were drinking and laughing with the other lords. The ladies gathered by the table, wanting their attention.

"Come on, Gloucester. Pick one".

"Gloucester fears his wife", and they laughed.

Richard didn't let those comments shook him. He brushed it away and drank. He let the ladies play with his hair, placing their hands on his shoulders or brushed their delicate fingers on his hands or cheeks, but nothing can ever compare to his Freja.

Although, something puzzled Stafford. Richard had been drinking with them and yet, he's the only one not horribly drunk like others.

"Why are you still sober?", Stafford asked.

One of the edge of Richard's lips etched into a smirk. "That, dearest cousin, is my secret".

"My Lord Gloucester, you have been with us and still, you have not yet conquered".

"Oh, I will conquer. Just not these..., beautiful ladies", Richard chuckled.

All the lords turned to the high table, where Freja raised her goblet with a smile. Richard raised his and winked at his wife.

"You are boring", one of them commented.

"And you just haven't found someone as exciting as she is", Richard chuckled.

"Are you sure she's not a witch? She didn't bewitched you or anything?", one of them chuckled.

"Oh no, no, my dear friends. Her beauty and soul bewitched me and my heart will belong to her for all eternity".

"Or perhaps..., you could..., share?", one of them chuckled, but quickly regretted when Richard's smiled dropped.

Richard pulled out his knife and twirled it around. "Careful, my lord. You might just wake up with your cock stuck down your throat", he threatened.