You rushed to the hospital wing right after you announced that the third game was over and the crowd went home, wanting to see how James was fairing after getting his entire left arm cut off by Brock.
There was a physician just closing the door as you approached, Eamon chasing after you. You stopped the physician saying, "Tell me how he is."
He bowed his head. "Your Highness."
"Tell me how he is!"
The man flinched, and you felt a little bad. You just yelled at him when he was simply trying to heal James.
"He is alright, Your Highness. I have wrapped his shoulder properly, and with the materials that hopefully can come in from Wakanda, his kingdom could construct him a new arm."
"Is that even possible?" Eamon asked.
The physician clutched his bag of medical supplies closer to his body. "With the way York is innovating things, yes. A letter must be sent to both kingdoms."
"Very well. Is Sir James awake? May we see him?"
"Yes, he's awake and well."
Not caring about rudeness, you pushed past the physician, thanking him as you did. You barged into the door and locked eyes with James, who was sitting upright with his shoulder wrapped tightly in pure white cloth.
"James. How are you feeling?"
His steel-blue eyes pierced into yours, widening when he realized that it was you.
He gave you a side-smile and shrugged the one shoulder that wasn't bandaged. "I'm alright, for getting my arm cut off."
"It must hurt," you sympathized.
"Oh, like hell. I can handle it though, being a knight and all," he jokingly bragged.
"I'm so glad you're alright," you practically sighed in relief. Eamon came into the room and laid his hand on your shoulder.
James merely glanced at Eamon before returning his gaze to you. "Who won the other round?"
"Captain Steven won against Lord Erik."
"So him and Prince Brock will be competing, hm?"
"Yes." You paused, not wanting to think about that. "I will send a letter to York and to Wakanda to see if we can create a prosthetic arm for you. Our alliances are strong, it should not be a problem. For now, you can stay in Evradia and heal."
"Thank you, Princess y/n.
~~~~~~~
You were in your study, finalizing the trade deal with the Wakandans for the materials for James' new arm. Although all of the competitors were told that they could get seriously hurt, you felt it was your responsibility to pay for the damages done on your kingdom's grounds.
A knock came at your door and you sighed, not expecting nor wanting any interruptions. Reluctantly, you said, "Come in."
You let out a breath of relief when you realized it was just Eamon.
"Princess."
You set down your writing utensil and gave him a pointed look.
He rolled his eyes. "Y/n."
Your face changed into a smile as you began to write again. "Better. Yes, Eamon?"
He shook his head, his jaw ticking. "The council is requesting your presence."
Your eyebrows knitted together. "Whatever for?"
"I was instructed not to say."
"Well, you're no fun," you said while standing and moving around your desk to stand in front of your friend. "Does it have anything to do with the competitors?"
"As I said before, I was instructed not to say."
You huffed. "We better get there, then."
Eamon offered you his arm and you took it. He led you out of your study and towards where your council usually met.
"How come the council always sends you to tell me things or fetch me? You're not a messenger boy."
He smiled cheekily. "I suppose it's because I am the one you tolerate the best."
"Tolerate, yes. As my best friend I merely tolerate your presence," you said with sarcasm laced in your tone.
He laughed, his chest moving as he did. Your heart warmed as you looked at him and listened to it.
"Y/n? We're here, are you ready?"
You snapped out of the daze you were in. "Yes, of course."
The council was seated at a round table, and Eamon let go of your arm to sit in his designated spot. You were left at the "head" of the table, which was just a spot with no chair.
"I was summoned, my Lords?" you started with, folding your hands in front of you politely.
"Princess y/n," one of the members spoke up. "We all agreed that we should boost the morale of the two remaining competitors, don't you think?"
"How so?"
"A ball would suffice. The townspeople and the past volunteers would be invited, of course. They'll have the chance to see the future king, whoever that turns out to be, before he wins."
"I don't suppose why not. A ball would be lovely."
"Then it's settled, preparations shall be overseen and it shall take place in four days' time."
Oh, here you were thinking that you'd get a say in the preparations other than giving permission. Alas, there was little you could do or say.
The council talked amongst themselves about the upcoming ball, ignoring your existence. You were taught to stand aside and not speak unless spoken to when men who held power over you were present. Even more so when they were talking.
You only left when you were dismissed, and Eamon was told to escort you back to your study. You didn't get ten minutes of privacy before your page knocked again. You yelled for him to come in.
"A letter for you, Your Highness. It's from Captain Steven."
Steve? Why was he writing to you when he was here, in the castle?
The page answered the question that you hadn't said out loud, "Apparently he left on horseback this morning, no explanation. All he said was to give you this letter... and this."
He handed you a small box wrapped with blue string. Your page bowed and left, closing the door behind him. Only the worst came to mind as you hastened to open the envelope, sealed with blue wax.
My heart,
I am sorry to say that I had to return to my kingdom because of some trouble with my order. Not to worry, I was informed of the ball and will surely return in time to attend.
In the meantime, I shall think of you these next few days. I only pray that you will do the same. The times I had spent with you thus far have been the happiest moments in my life, and I sincerely wish that you feel so in return. Your situation is most unfortunate, but I hope with every bone in my body that I would be the one to win your hand in this tournament, and your heart.
I cannot stop thinking of the way your lips felt on mine that evening after our eventful stroll throughout your village. I apologize for not returning your affection that last time, I was foolishly thinking that by not kissing you again, the thoughts of you would cease. They did not, and I regret not taking that chance you had so graciously given me. The brief moment will not leave my head, and I ended up thinking of you until the early hours of the morning.
As part of my apology, I hope that you accept this gift. I had bought it that day in the village, and thought it fitting. You, princess, are my precious heart.
Affectionately Yours,
Steven Rogers
You set the letter on your desk, your heart pumping rapidly in your chest. First, Steve would be gone until the ball. Which meant that you'd be forced to spend all of this time with the Prince of Hydra. Second, he regretted not kissing you and wished he would have. And third, he gave you a gift.
You fingered through the tied string and opened the box, finding a necklace at the bottom. You took it out, the sentimentality of it all bringing tears to your eyes. The passionate letter, the gift wrapped with the utmost care, and the confirmation that Steve did care about you was all resonating in your mind.
The necklace was a small blue heart-shaped gem that was encased in silver. You flipped it over and the words, "My heart" was engraved on the back. You swallowed as you felt those tears spill onto your cheeks. No one had ever given you such a lovely, thoughtful gift.
You placed it around your neck, smiling to yourself in the mirror. You loved it. It was like a part of him was with you, even now, when he was miles away.
You kissed the letter, folding it neatly and tucking it away in your drawer that had a lock on it to keep it safe.