Professor, Professor

Stars in a Sky of Emerald and Crimson

Let's see. I'm very lax when it comes to my knowledge of royalty or anything in this time period admittedly, but I wanted to make a little AU for fun. 

Katrielle is older than Alfendi, but only by a year. That is so that I can marry Alfendi off into Lucy's kingdom and have Katrielle continue Labyrinthia. Yes, that Labryinthia. The one from that fun little game with Phoenix Wright.

Also doesn't actually go into the betrothal itself because I ran outta steam, whoops.

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Princess Lucille—widely known to all in Kismet as Princess Lucy, as she despised the formality Lucille offered—looked quietly near the window, gazing to what was considered her kingdom. Her crimson eyes scanned the landscape and marveled at how the world seemed to revolve even as she stood still—something she still couldn't quite wrap around her head, as her luck of being in her standing seemed the stuff fairytales were made of. Several servants went around like ants, bustling for the arrival of what was to come, but they hadn't gotten her attention. No, what mattered to her was what was outside her window, the things she could see from being this high up in the palace. The beautiful skies of Kismet always brought her such joys, especially when she was younger and her parents indulged her constantly, taking a different approach to parenting in comparison to other royals. Her mother and father both were a constant within her life, regardless of what age she was—though they became lax over the years, they rarely employed a nanny for her unless absolutely necessary.

Peering down at the gardens, she remembered her small frame running around, calling for Mummy and Papa to chase her. Her Mummy, the Queen of Kismet, would merely laugh and watch as her beloved—Lucy's father, the King Consort of Kismet—lift the young princess up into his arms as she squealed. They were a happy little band of three, back then. The pressures of the crown were manageable and there were even talks of a possible second child, if the Their Royal Majesties were desiring.

That was, of course, until her father had been murdered.

It was a clean killing, the detectives that were able to scrounge information had said. It was most likely a painless death, one with very little time for the former King Consort of Kismet to struggle and bleed. It hadn't stopped Lucy from sobbing, clutching her stuffed toys for comfort because her mother could hardly offer her own in the matriarch's own grief. It hadn't stopped the slow decline of Kismet's royalty, which was already in near disrepair even with her father's presence and efforts. The death of her father, much to it's irony, had reinvigorated the Court and Kismet's royalty, for everyone felt sympathy for the widowed Queen and their only daughter. The one that would carry the legacy of Kismet, since without the King, there would be no second heir—no contingency plan—if something worse were to happen.

That was when her mother made a spur of the moment decision, wasting no time in searching for a better comfort for her only child and her kingdom. Four years of searching after the death of her husband lead the Queen of Kismet to the King of Labyrinthia. More importantly, it lead the fate of Princess Lucy to a young Prince Alfendi Layton.

In most royal courts, most arranged marriages were always considered to be wonderful and for the greater good, regardless of how the betrothed individuals felt about it. She had no say in any of the arrangements, with all of them occurring behind closed doors and hushed tones. Even the whispers of the servants could offer no light to what exactly had been discussed and it wasn't like they were going to ask for her opinion, no matter how much the young princess desired. No, she had to sit and watch like a pretty ornament, waiting patiently for the prince that would be hers.

The young princess of fifteen pulled out the card stock from its hiding spot—a copy of Lord Byron's poetry that she had been forced to read in the past but had begrudgingly fallen in love with—and read over the beautifully written words over and over again.