The lost prince.

Queen Sophie.

The petit woman walks through the snow in furry boots. The queen of Monaco walking next to her through the village, not too far away from the blacksmith. The gusts of wind still strongly blowing everywhere, covering the village in a bigger pile of snow.

"Excuse my son, he has quite the temper." Sophie apologises to the royal family while heading up the cobblestone path.

None of the villagers bothered by the fact that the royal family of Monaco is walking up the cobblestoned path in their village. Some are glancing their way but avert their gaze quickly, their bodies tensing up at the sight of them.

"It's fine, Sophie." Pascale says with a smile on her face.

The black haired woman from the village looks kindly at the queen. A soft and gentle smile tucked on her lips while she casts a look to the three princes behind them. The king behind their three sons.

Charles looks at the woman for a moment with clear confusion on his face while he tries to avert his eyes from the woman in front of him, who his mother had called Sophie and had sounded so surprised upon seeing in the blacksmith.

"No, it's not, your highness. I have tried to teach him manners but he chooses to ignore them. Not that I'm surprised, he's got his father's temper sometimes." The woman casually tells them while they reach a bog cobblestone house.

"Do they know?" Pascale asks the woman.

Sophie shakes her head quickly before she twists the handle and opens the door. Letting them into the cosy and warm hostel, letting themselves welcome the nice and warm fireplace. Shielding all of them from the harsh winter that's raging outside the building.

"Do they know what, maman?" Arthur chimes into the conversation.

Sophie and Pascale ignore the comment of the young prince before they head up to the counter. The warmth from the cobblestoned fireplace heating up the receptions area, big plush couches surrounding the fireplace with big fluffy pillows, in colours of grey and beige, a slight hit of dark yellow accents throughout the room. paintings scattered around the room on the walls.

One catches Charles' eyes, a painting of his mate, holding a sword while standing with a man next to him. both the men grinning like idiots while they stand in front of the wall that they had walked through mere moments before. His eyes sparkling, looking pretty young still. His arm sloughed over the other man's, who also holds onto a weapon. Both covered in blood and their weapons smeared in it too.

Charles jumps when the black haired woman appears suddenly next to him, his thoughts having drowned out everything that had been going on around him. leaving him vulnerable to being scared or frightened by anyone.

"that was the last time anyone had genuinely smiled in our village." Sophie says before turning away.

The omega prince turns to the woman, who walks away from where she had been standing next to him. she stops for a moment to usher him along with her hand. The omega turns to looks for one last time at the genuine happy mate of his before he follows the kind omega woman. She leads him up the wooden stairs of the warm building, a dull red carpet with little golden colour details sewn in.

His family waits on the first floor for the woman and their son to get on the same floor as them. More grey and beige colours in chairs and pillows line around the hallway, more paintings of which Charles is not interested about. Their either of other people that he can barely remember as people who walked the village streets.

The woman walks up to the nearest door, keys jiggling on the keyring in her hand. Pushing the golden coloured key into the lock, twisting it in the keyhole before she opens the door with ease. It makes a creaking sound before the kind woman lets the family into the room first before she follows, handing the king the key chain.