.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.
GIANITA
It had been a week since Gigi found the 'secret' stash of her father's letters, yet she couldn't shake it from her thoughts. She had known about her father's ambition to seek relations with Angletonia, but the amount of time he had used trying to convince Cal to take her hand in marriage had shocked her.
Initially, she had thought that he saw an opportunity as Cal rose up to the throne without a wife, but the truth revealed that he had been presenting her to him many years before that; even before he met Isleen. How long had it gone on?
When Cal said 'your father has only ever mentioned you in his letters', she didn't think it would be to this degree.
The first time she was directly mentioned in the letters was in July 1919, with a photograph attached to it, showing her innocently cuddled in her brother's arms. She was merely five at that time, and Cal—he must have been around fourteen. He wasn't thinking... It wasn't like that, right? He had pursued relationships with other women, planned on marrying Olivia and was making no efforts to entertain her father's offer until earlier this year; when he suddenly informed her father of a marriage proposal. She remembered how the Prajan court rejoiced that day.
Cal wasn't the problem. It was her father she was concerned about.
Although she knew that it was a widespread practice for children of noble and royal families to be promised into marriage at such an early age, it was the specific details that gave her the chills.
Growing up, she'd always been proud of herself for possessing some certain skills, compared to her half-sisters. Even though she could never become as popular, she mastered an intellectual prowess which they didn't. Since the rise of the Angletonian Empire in the last few centuries, the ability to speak fluent Anglese had always been seen as prestigious. Any Prajan with the talent would be offered more decent jobs and quickly rise in society. Gigi had been taught Anglese since she was four years old by native-speaking teachers which her parents had carefully selected, so she would have no accent. She was given classes that most of her sisters weren't provided; politics, economy and foreign trades. But now it felt like they were all artificial—her talents and abilities. That they were never really hers, and she was only capable of doing so because it was intended.
It was almost like her entire life was forged to fit Cal—or rather, the Emperor of Angletonia. To become his ideal wife, the perfect Empress. Which would later lead to... make him fall in love with her.
But even if her entire marriage was a sham... she still had her friendship with Junior. It wasn't pre-planned, they got together based purely on similar interests. Her father didn't make her fancy fairy tales or prehistoric creatures. She looked into it on her own! At the very least, she would always have her son.
Shutting her eyes, Gigi held Junior closely in her lap. They were in his room, and he was reading about the Five Muses again. His interest in Southern mythologies was back, she had also seen him doodling the five-star constellation all over his notebooks. She must've overthought his previous statement about being done with the Five Muses myths. Junior was a child and his opinions were bound to change as he grew, and that was okay.
He also had a new favourite word, 'fate', as evident as the word was always neatly scribbled next to the stars. Maybe it was a part of the lore?
"So, Papa will be back soon, right?"
"Yes, Junior."
"And you said you're going to have a honeymoon after he returned?"
Gigi chuckled nervously, as part of her mind went back to the problem with her father. "We plan to."
"What do people do on a honeymoon?" Junior turned to look at her with his big, doe eyes.
Suddenly, they heard some noises coming from outside. Junior quickly perked up like a puppy, dropping his book on the chair pillows, jumping out of her lap and running toward the window. "Papa!" he exclaimed.
So Cal was indeed back. He had told them, joyously, over the telephone that he was bound to return today or tomorrow. But she didn't know if she could face him after discovering the fact about her father.
"Come on, Ma, he's back!" Junior sprinted out of the room, Gigi only smiling after him. It might be a good moment to return to her own room, so she could recompose herself.
She heard some laughter coming down the stairs. Cal must have reunited with Junior already.
But only a moment after she reached her own room, she heard the double doors swinging open only to reveal her husband standing on the doorway, staring at her intently. Of course, he'd come here, they were no longer staying in separate rooms. This was their shared chambers!
"Sire, what are you doing here? Don't you have to see Junior?"
Swiftly dashing across the room, Cal encapsulated her in his embrace in a matter of seconds, and soon his lips were on hers.
After what felt like an eternity, he let her go, breathless.
"Sire..." Gigi sighed, clinging to him for support. Her legs felt like jelly as he was leaving trails of kisses along her lips and chin. "Junior... He's missed you so much, he's gonna be disappointed if you don't—"
Cal silenced her with another kiss. His rich, deep brown gaze was warm on her. "Junior and I have already had our fair share of reunion, now it's time for you to show me how much you've missed me."
The sincerity in his eyes made all her doubts disappear as if they evaporated into thin air. Her father might have meticulously shaped her life, but he had no part in their marriage, and certainly not their love. Nothing could ever be more real than this.
"You have no idea..." Tugging on his silky, jet black hair, Gigi nibbled down her lip to stifle a moan. She tilted her head back as he sucked on her pulse.
Gliding her hands over his body, she relished at the feel of his figure, the temperature of his skin, the softness of his lips. Her mind might have tried to keep a distance but her heart did miss him, and her body certainly did too.
***
To hope that they would be able to do anything in broad daylight would be an illusion. Cal still had a series of conferences to attend, and only after dinner did they finally get their well-deserved reunion.
Looking back to her maiden years, this wasn't at all what Gigi had in mind for how her marriage would be. Even her fantasies had been more docile, less salacious. She imagined settling for a man who was mildly modest in everything, save for his intellect. Not a husband who would steal her breath away with a mere stare. Not one who'd incite a heated sex each time he came back from a business trip.
They didn't even make it to the bed as they fumbled with the buttons and layers of their clothes, soon discarding them all over the lush velvet carpet of their private lounge. Bending over a table, Gigi clutched the rich fabric of her dress and gathered it around her waist, her panties pooled down at her feet. She held her breath in anticipation as she heard the sound of unzipping and the buckle of his belt hitting the floor, whimpering in need as he took her from behind.
It did not take long for him to make her reach her peak, but he was far from done as he scooped her in his arms, opening the inner doors of their chambers to retreat to their bedroom. Gigi settled her husband down on the pillows and happily climbed into his lap.
"Shall we slow down? Save it for the honeymoon?" He winked as he poured himself a glass of wine which had been prepared for them on the nightstand as she ground down on him.
"Stop me at your leisure," she said as she slid a hand down his back, squeezing his ass. Moaning as she rocked her hips against his, the feel of him filling her up completely just made her body raked with more arousal as she tasted the wine on his tongue.
"By all means, be my guest," he shrugged, resting his arms on top of the pillows. But a swivel of her hips made them both gasp. His nails were digging into her waist, stopping their conversation.
An hour later they were back under the covers with towels still wrapped around them like a cocoon after taking a warm bath. Cal told her how grateful he was, for had they been born a few decades earlier, they might never have enjoyed any such liberties or privacy; having separate bedrooms, always being under the watchful eyes of the servants. His parents were among the early ones who broke the tradition.
Well, she and Cal did have separate bedrooms before. But the older generations did without having the specific reasons that they had.
As he relaxed into the cushions, Gigi decided to ask him the question. "Sire, when did you decide to marry me? ...I mean, when did you decide to consider a marriage prospect with Praja? I know you admired Praja before, but you did seek to marry an Angletonian lady, didn't you?"
"Well, you know I had always wanted to marry for love. To find the best woman in the world to rule by my side. But Isleen destroyed it for me, so I thought that if I could no longer marry for love, then I should at least pick the best candidate for Empress. I did think of Praja instantly because of my long-time interest, and there was an available candidate. Maybe I would consider things differently if you had been old enough when I sought to marry for the first time," he grinned, rubbing a towel in her damp hair.
"So it's true, then. You wouldn't have married me if my father hadn't been relentlessly promoting me." She folded her arms and tucked them under her chin.
"Gi, do we have to go through this again? Is it about your sisters? I've already told you how we've proved that you're the best for me and it's useless to argue otherwise."
"I saw the letters," she admitted quietly. Usually, she would avoid saying it directly but now she felt safe enough to be vulnerable around him. "The ones my father sent you over the years. I didn't know how long he had been trying to offer me to you while moulding me into the role. I found out that everything that I learned, everything that I am... The only reason why I became your wife, was only because my father wanted me to. ...You won't understand. He made me learn Anglese to impress you," she whispered as her tears threatened to fall.
It took a while before Cal replied. "I do. We're royalty. Many, if not most of the things that happen to us are because of our parents. It's just bound to be so. Other people have it differently, but it doesn't make it any less real. Maybe I can never understand what happened in Praja. Maybe your father does have an ambition; he was a great influence in your life. But I don't care. He might have brought us together, and he might even have made you a great Empress, but it's not him that made me fall for you."
Cupping her face, he rubbed his thumb across her cheek. "You were the one who made me fall in love with you. He can't control that. It was you who broke past my walls and made me recognise you."
Gigi just stared back at him, her heart warm and full as he landed a kiss on her temple. She'd take his words because they were true and sincere. She'd believe him now, because it felt good.
"Off to sleep," he reached to switch the light off as she cuddled up into his chest, his words kept ringing in her mind.
Out in the world, they were the Emperor and Empress of Angletonia. But inside this room, just for this single moment, she wished they could only be Cal and Gigi. Just Cal and Gigi...
***
"No... No, it can't be you! ... No—you're dead!"
Gigi stirred in her sleep, bothered by the noises. What was that sound?
"Don't— don't touch me... Get off me!"
After a hoarse, horrifying scream, Gigi could no longer stay asleep. Her eyes shot open, seeing her husband sat up in their bed, covered in sweat, clutching his heart in his palms.
Sire...?
.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.