Meeting Shynai

Heya Everyone!

So the other day I was searching for... something... I don't remember what, but instead of finding that I stumbled upon some really old stories. They were written on paper, which means I've carted them around through 8 different houses, over six years, carefully protected in folders and boxes... and this one? Well, it's time to bring it back to life, switch it into the digital age and turn it from the skeleton it was when past me was learning how to bring stories to life into a fully fleshed out flowing story... at least, that's what modern day me is gonna say. Check back in in a few years and see how I feel about it then.

Hope you enjoy :)

“Sir, the ball is about to begin.” Crown Prince Michael frowned, adjusting his tie in the mirror once again. He hated these things, the endless line of balls thrown in the hopes that his aunt would find someone she could marry and make King of the country, someone whose children she could bear, create a real heir to assume the throne after her death.

He knew she hated these things more than he did, she’d never officially say, but he’d overheard her complaints when she’d believed herself alone in her office. She was barely a few years older than he was, but as every day brought Michael closer to 18 the pressure on her mounted. He knew that the crown she wore was rightfully his, and the advisors had no intention of ever letting it sit on his head.

His father had not been of royal or noble stock, as far as the advisors had been concerned he muddied the royal bloodline. Michael couldn’t prove it, but he knew it was one of them that ordered the assassination of his mother, father and himself. It was the most vivid memory he had of his childhood, his mother forcing him into a servant's arms, begging her to get him somewhere safe.

They never found the assassin nor the man who’d hired them. It was brushed aside as they summoned his aunt, just old enough to take the throne, and crowned her queen. She’d told him from the start that the crown was rightfully his, and that one day the crown his mother had lived and died for would one day be his own.

His aunt had named him her heir the moment she had enough power over the council to do so, and she had no intention of ever having heirs of her own. She was just as furious as he was about how the death of her sister and brother-in-law was handled. Even more so when she learnt that she was to be crowned Queen rather than Queen Regent. It was a slight against her family and all they stood for.

“Your highness, her majesty is waiting for you to arrive.” Michael lifted his hands from the tie, nodding to the butler as he held open the doors. His personal bodyguards already waiting in the hallway for him to be ready.

Damian and Raymond fell into step behind him as he started walking towards the ballroom, taking as much time as he could in an effort to waylay the start of the ball, knowing that until he was there to escort his aunt nothing would happen.

“Michael! Come along.” He was forced to move quicker by his aunt, watching as she impatiently struggled with a pristine ballgown and swore under her breath. “Damn stupid-” He chuckled as he stopped as close to her as he could get, the ball gown puffing out at her waist and trailing along the floor either side of her. “I am certain your mother never wore these stupid gowns. I swear they are getting more and more outrageous.”

“Then outlaw them? You are queen after all.” She pulled a face at him as he offered her his arm.

“I’d rather wear the stupid gown than deal with those stuffy old men.” The entire corridor failed to stifle their laughter at the Queen’s description of the board of elders, and a grin pulled up at her lips, only to be lost as laughter abruptly stopped.

“When you are ready your majesty.” Two men, one standing either side of the door, straightened up as an elderly man walked up. “Your guests are growing impatient.” He added, reaching out to smooth the fabric of her gown. His aunt quickly wrapped her hand around Michael’s arm, nails digging into his arm as the advisor got too close for comfort.

“I was merely taking a moment to speak with my nephew.” She defended herself, sidestepping his next attempt to ‘fix’ her dress. “There are several suitors waiting out that door, all ready to become king, and all growing impatient with your intent to keep them waiting.” He didn’t bother to hide his irritation at the way the young queen was acting, but he dared not glare at her, instead directing his anger at the prince.

“If they cannot find in them patience to wait for a few moments, then clearly they are not fit enough to become King.” Queen Penelope responded in kind, nodding to the two men. They opened the door, allowing Michael to lead her from the room before anything else could be said.

Below them, everything was silent, the band ceasing their music as men and women alike bowed to the queen at the top of the grand staircase. They both waited a moment before starting the slow descent down, forced to take each step as Penelope struggled with her massive dress. A smile plastered on her face despite it all, and Michael knew he wouldn’t hear a word of complaint from her, at least, not until tomorrow.

Michael guided his aunt towards the first of those she would be forced to greet tonight, making his own introductions at his side until they could both escape and go their own ways.

They both did the moment they could, offering each other a nod as Michael turned towards the drinks, and her towards those in attendance that she called his friends.

He didn’t expect to crash into a beautiful blonde on his way there. Very few people ever visited the drinks table, especially when servants littered the room, catering to any whim they might have. But the blonde seemed to have been loitering there, stammering her apologies as her drink spilt all down his front.

“It's fine.” He reached around her to grab a few serviettes, offering her one before wiping away what liquid he could.

“No, I’m so sorry, I’m such a clutz.” She accepting the small piece of fabric, cleaning her drink off of the expensive necklace that covered her chest, before lifting it to wipe the liquid from beneath as well.

“It is certainly my fault, I should have paid more attention to where I was going.” He corrected, passing the wet serviettes to an awaiting servant.

“My father would insist that it would never be your fault my prince, but my own.” He finally got the chance to get a good look at her as she lifted her gaze to his.

Blonde curls framed her face, peaks of purple appearing in each of the twirled strands as they disappeared over her shoulder and ran down her back. Bright blue eyes were focused completely on him, even as his gaze dipped to the rest of her body, appreciating the way the strapless gown clung to her frame.

“Please call me Michael. After all, we are already well acquainted.” He motioned towards his wet shirt, a smile pulling up at her lips.

“Only if you will honour me by doing the same.” She countered, hand resting on the jewels around her neck as she glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m afraid I do not know your name.” Her lips turned down into a frown, and he wondered if he’d misspoken, maybe this was someone he was supposed to recognise.

“Excuse me, my sister is calling.” Her hand rested on his shoulder as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, walking away before he could apologise.

“Excuse me, your highness, another shirt and coat have been set aside for you. If you’ll follow me.” A servant distracted him from watching her for just a moment, and when he turned back again, she was gone.

After that, he only managed to catch glimpses of her. A flash of her hair as someone twirled her around the dancefloor, her soft voice as she spoke to someone who was nearby, but gone before he could escape his own conversation. It was enough to drive him mad.

He glanced around the room, trying to find her once more, only to land eyes on his aunt, shuffling slightly as she tried to make an excuse to leave the young man she was speaking with, only to fail. Her brown eyes landed on him, silently pleading for his help.

“Your majesty.” He complied, his hand resting on her elbow. The young man narrowed his eyes at him as the Queen made her excuses, and motioned for Michael to lead her away.

“Remind me never to allow him another invite, if I have to hear him prattle on about how rich and successful he is I will-” She grumbled quietly to him, a forced smile on her face as he lead her past lords and princes to the outdoor patio.

“Majesty.” A horrified female voice cut the Queen off before she could finish her threat.

“Shynai.” Penelope twisted out of Michael’s hold to pull the blonde haired woman into her arms. “I’m so glad you could make it.” Michael watched closely as the woman who had caught his interest interacted with his aunt like they were the oldest of friends.

“I couldn't deny you, Penny.” Shynai pulled out of the hug she’d happily returned. “So this would be him.” Her blue eyes sparkled as she pretended not to know the man she’d crashed into earlier.

“Indeed, Shynai, this is my nephew and heir, Crown Prince Michael. Michael this is Shynai Hunter, we meet at boarding school when we were younger.” Queen Penelope stepped aside to introduce her friend and nephew.

“Pleasure to meet you, my prince.” She bent her knees into a curtsey, straightening up just as quickly as she had dropped.

“Pleasure is all mine, Miss Hunter.” He recognised her last name, she shared it with his aunt's favourite lord and closest confident. The man she’d named her regent should anything happen to her before Michael reached 18. He thought he knew the man well, he and his family spent countless hours with him and his aunt. Yet apparently not well enough to have been introduced to his daughter. He knew his son and his daughter-in-law, but the blonde had never been mentioned.

“Please, call me Shynai. I do believe my brother was looking for you, my Prince, I promise to take good care of her majesty.” Michael glanced to his aunt, who waved him away, hooking her arm through Shynai’s and starting to walk further into the gardens.

Michael watched until the duo were out of sight, before turning to find James Hunter, maybe he could shed some light on the entire situation.