Getting married to her parents friend’s rich, snobby, prince son only because she was a princess didn’t sit right with her. Why did she have to marry someone she didn’t know, nor love, just because of some status.

You were Caitlyn’s best friend, stuck hip to hip, inseparable. Though, the both of you over the years developed to have mutual, romantic feelings for each other. The thought of marrying you, being queen and queen, (because you were both princesses) instead of being with someone else made a wide, toothy grin appear on her face.

As of right now, you were laying next to her in her bed, your gloved hands resting in your lap, laying on top of your gorgeous gown, holding your crown in your lap.

Caitlyn just stared at you, her finger tapping a rhythmic pattern on the comforter, lost in her own wonders while gazing at you, quietly.

Noticing her silence, you turn over to her, scooting closer, taking her hand. “Alright, what’s got you so quiet? Usually you’re all upbeat when it’s just us.” You say, earning her attention.

“....” She tightens her grip on your gloved hand with her own. “Have you wondered if we weren’t princesses?”

Her question peeked your interest, tilting your head. “A few times, yeah.. mostly before those big, big ceremonies-“

“Not that.” She cut you off, her eyes gazing deeply into yours. “Like, then we could like whoever we want, and not be forced to marry someone because their held to a royalty standard.*

You stared at her, a neutral expression on your face. You knew she didn’t wanna marry him. Heck, as said earlier, you have feeling for her yourself.

“Plus, I’d rather marry you..” She said in a whisper as she pulled you in for a kiss. Obviously, you reciprocated, kissing her back.