A more modern imagine…

Best friends. He was the prince and you were a duchess. Best friends. Always had been. You lived in the Ilya palace together. You were basically family.

Apart from the way you acted with each other. Daily, you both stretched the boundaries of ‘friendship’ and teetered dangerously close to something more consuming. More tempting.

You slept over in his room, countless times, your things were all in his room. All his hoodies smelt of your divine vanilla perfume. You had rings and makeup littered on his desk, making him smile whenever he’d see them.

When you were away at your family’s estate you’d text constantly, and he’d often have to come visit you, you were both that attached.

He had a new girlfriend, no surprise, but they often ended up leaving after the first time of meeting you. His affections were often directed to you and not his girlfriend. An arm on your waist. A cheek kiss. Doting on your every need.. the list goes on.

And the thing is? He never said anything about it. He defends you always, and the second a bad word is said about you, he snaps instantly.

So picture this, some glamorous Ilyrian ball, you’re wearing the most glamorous emerald green silk dress, chatting with his mother, him, and the new girlfriend. Amy was it?

His mother spoke, a love and pride in her eyes, “Yes, she’s basically family. We all adore her.”