The King's Forbidden Lover (MLM)

{⋆˚ ݁ ˖ ݁˖First Meeting⋆˚ ݁ ˖ ݁˖}

1734. France, La Garde

King Claude Laurent II was an interesting King; Most kings would've been married by now and have an heir to the throne, but not Claude. At the age of thirty-six, he was the only King in France; this decade, he hadn't wed a woman, even though almost every woman was swooning every time he walked around the town, which was all the time.

It was a bright morning in La Garde, the busiest day of the week, with all food vendors and bakeries open, allowing families to stock up on food for the week. The King walked out of the castle doors, saying goodbye to his workers before walking into the town. He was a humble man, so he preferred to get the food himself rather than sending his workers.

When he stepped foot into the town square, he tried to find the bakery. As he walked past the young, quite beautiful ladies, they giggled, trying to get his attention, and they succeeded. Their outfits were extravagant, featuring long skirts, laces, and velvet gloves, which he found quite pretty.

"Morning, ladies! Having a fine evening, I see if you are dressed like this?"

He chuckled. He found them cute, but he didn't want to marry one of them. He stared at them for a moment before waving goodbye as he walked behind them to the bakery.

As he entered the bakery, he could smell the variety of pastries in the air. He walked up to the
counter, finding a lady behind it. She had long brown hair in a bun that resembled a cinnamon roll. Her apron was pale blue with a beige short-sleeve underneath, and her gloves were messy with flour. She looked beautiful, but her looks didn't enchant him.

"Good morning, Ms Garnier."

He said with a smile. They knew each other quite well, since he almost comes every day to the
bakery.

"Morning, Mr. Laurent," The girl smiled, "The usual bread and cake?"

He nodded as she handed him the baked goods, which were already prepared for his arrival. It
was the first of her making it beforehand, and he liked it.

"I see that you were waiting for my arrival?"

They both laughed, grabbing the wool bag, the other hand paying her five coins, which was a lot at the time.

"Have a good morning!"

He waved goodbye, leaving the bakery for the bookstore next door.

When he stepped into the bookstore, the smell of leather and cut wood filled the King's nose.

As he browsed the novel section, he came across a riveting novel. It was about his father, who passed years ago. It was a new release, so, curious, he pulled the book out of the shelf before walking to the counter, staring at the cover with a somber look.

His father wasn't the most humble, having a history of many wives, and certainly killing most of them, even Claude's mother, who was killed by the hands of his father when he was only six years of age.

The thought of his mother brought his mind back to the only painting of her that wasn't burned, which was hung up at the grand entrance.

"Lucienne," he sighed his mother's name, his voice tight with emotion.

As he finally walked towards the counter, he looked up from the book, and he found nobody there, snapping him out of his depressed state. The King could only hear the sound of shuffling and books falling.

"IN A MINUTE!"

The young-sounding British boy yelled in the back, along with more falling stuff. The boy
seemed new, since the older woman who would usually help Claude out was either sick or, worse, deceased.

He quickly brushed it off, likely because he was a temporary replacement.

After what felt like an eternity, the young boy finally managed to make it to the counter before
the King left. The King's heart skipped a beat. The boy was around 5'6, short, with messy brown
hair, shattered glasses, from what happened in the back, and a smile that could make anyone fall
for the boy.

"Hello?"

The boy waved his hand in front of the King's face. Claude finally snapped out of it, abruptly
placing the book with a hard THUMP onto the counter, almost crushing the boy's hand.

"Are we in a rush–?"

"What is your name?"

Claude interrupted, looking straight into the boy's green eyes. The boy cleared his throat, his face now red with the sudden demand of his name.

"Fredrick Petit..."

The boy, or now Fredrick, squeaked, fixing his already unfixable glasses, trying to get the King's
gaze off of him. Petit, the last name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
Frederick looked into the King's blue eyes, knowing that another question would come.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-One!"

Frederick said with a wide smile, clearly proud of his age. Claude chuckled at his smile, the
The novel remained untouched because they were too engrossed in conversation.

As the conversation continued, they started to warm up to each other; Claude, in particular, had already warmed up to Fredrick quite a bit.

Claude finally looked back, seeing the quite extensive line around the small bookstore. Claude's face turned red, finally giving Fredrick the single coin before turning to leave. Frederick wanted to chase after the King, wanting to talk more to him, but he could only call out.

"When I see you again?"

Frederick yelled, making Claude halt at the door, his hand hovering over the door handle. He
turned, seeing how nervous the boy was waiting for his response. Without stopping himself, he
answered.

"Tomorrow, at this time."

The clock said 9:15. Why did you say that? He thought to himself, but he was already out of the door before confirming.

He ran through the town square, ignoring the lords and ladies trying to get his attention, whether it was store clerks or ladies trying to get his attention. Still, the only thought in his mind was Fredrick, who was probably dealing with the impatient customers who were bombarding him with books.

Fredrick Petit, the boy with the broken glasses and the charming smile, was the only thing on his mind.

When Claude finally made it to the castle, he ignored his workers; instead, he went up one floor.
He rushed to his bedroom, throwing himself onto his bed without bothering to change into his night clothes.

Looking up at the ceiling, he hoped the next day, he would see Fredrick again at the bookstore.