Lord Splooge

As the princess of Austrica, your parents had a lot of high expectations for you. Your mother was a traditional woman who was the embodiment of a "proper lady". She was firm and quiet, letting her actions speak louder than words and performing her royal duties as queen with grace and dignity.

The people truly admired her and could only hope their daughters would measure up to be half the woman she was. Your father was equally as admired and ruled over Austrica with an iron fist. He was ruthless, but necessary, putting the country's needs over his own and defending it with all he could.

it was under his leadership that the country thrived and expanded exponentially. You'd think that these two great leaders would produce a proper heir that would embody a beautiful blend of their virtuous traits.

Instead, they had you! After years of trying for a baby, your mother finally got pregnant! 9 months later, after all the anticipation and excitement— they found out you were a girl.

Your mother wept as the midwife handed you to her, trying to soothe you as you wailed in her arms. Your father consoled her, trying to hide his disappointment that he wouldn't be able to pass the throne off to you.

It was hard enough getting pregnant with one child, it was very unlikely that the queen would have the chance to produce another offspring. So, they hoped and prayed you'd grow up to be a lovely young woman who could take over as a monarch.

Unfortunately, you didn't quite fit into the royal standards put upon you. As a child, you were extremely energetic, always causing a ruckus and getting dirt on your clothes even if you hadn't gone outside the palace! You tried to act proper, but God it all just felt so ridiculous.

All the rules and expectations weighed on your shoulders, nit picking every breath until it made you resent them. You knew they had good intentions and just wanted to groom you into the perfect future queen, but the pressure was all too much to impose on one person.

One time, you'd secretly bought a low square cut evening gown and tried it on in your room. Just as you put it on, your mother had burst in and nearly passed out at the bare décolletage on her daughter.

You tried to explain that dresses of the sort were the up and coming fashion for young women, but she ignored you and confiscated the dress. Now the servants in your household were told to keep a close eye on you in case you decided to venture out and buy a "blasphemous" dress again.

At your debutante ball, you got ready in a gorgeous silk ivory gown that trailed behind you as you walked. You certainly looked the part of a mature lady who was ready for marriage! Unfortunately, as soon as you stepped out into the party you had to use all your might to fight back a laugh.

I mean, for God's sake those wigs were ridiculous! The young ambitious beaus wore these blindingly white birds-nest of a wig that nearly towered over their short stature. It was hilarious!

Your mother pinched your arm as soon as the first snickers left your lips though, a silent warning to knock it off. The ball finished and surprise surprise, no man was particularly interested in the girl who nearly choked on her wine from laughing so hard at everyone.

Anyway, the powdered wig fad eventually faded out, thankfully, but your parent's desire for you to meet another monarch had only grown stronger. Since you clearly expressed your reluctance to actually try and find a husband, they decided to take matters into their own hands and arrange one for you.

You begged them to reconsider, but they'd made their mind up already. You'd be married to some Duke Vincent of North Eurasia, a well-known Duke who was incredibly wealthy and infamously charming, whether you liked it or not.

A few months pass far too quickly, and now you're getting ready for the "big day". Your nerves were on the edge, your stomach shaking with fear and anxiety. How could you possibly prepare to marry a man you'd never met?

"Ow!" you exclaim, "does it have to be so tight that I can't breath?".

Your lady in waiting, Catherine, chuckled and pulled the laces tighter, "Yes, dear. A small amount of pain is worth an extraordinary amount of beauty!".

"I wouldn't exactly call this a "small" amount of pain," you mutter before gasping as she ties the garment in a tight knot. Catherine drapes and dresses you in the various elaborate fabrics that made up your wedding dress.

She fastens a creme bodice around you with off the shoulder sleeves which feature ornate, delicate lace patterns around it. The skirt of your dress goes past your ankles and forms a tail-like train that falls gracefully behind you.

Catherine pins white roses around your dress, decorating the expensive silk and bringing a pop of color with the green stems. She then lays a flower crown headband on you that matched the flowers on your dress and lays a diamond bib necklace across your clavicle.

With the final touches of a matching pair of earrings and a braided updo bun, your transformation was complete. "Woah," you say softly, "I actually look—"

"Stunning?" Catherine finishes with a smug smile, "I know. I told you the pain would be worth it.".

You chuckle and run a hand over your exposed shoulders, "Mother is going to loser her mind when she sees the cut of this dress, though.".

Catherine grabs a sheer white and lace fabric and drapes it over your shoulders, "That's what the shawl is for, darling.".

You smile and turn to her, "How will I manage without you?".

She laughs softly and takes your hand in hers, "You'll be just fine without me. I'm sure your new lady will suite you just fine. Now go along, your soon-to-be-husband is waiting!".

You take a deep breath and nod as she shoves a bouquet of blue Dendrobium Orchids and dark Delphiniums in your hand. She leads you out of the dressing area and by the alter. Soft violins begin to play as you arrive at the at the entrance, the people in the pews immediately standing to their feet and facing you. With an encouraging nudge from Catherine, you begin to walk down the aisle at a slow, hesitant pace.

The church was filled with people you didn't know. Powerful politicians from neighboring countries, other royalty, and at least two dozen family members you never met filled the pews and watched with a critical gaze as you walked down the alter.

You gaze lifts to see your soon to be husband waiting at the alter. He wore a navy blue suit with a matching long cape. Intricate gold patterns decorate the fabric and trail up from the bottom of the cloak, covering the shoulders like an epaullete and wrapping around the collar.

A golden sash diagonally wraps around his chest, partly covering the various medals adorned on his suit and broach that had a gold tasseled cord hanging from it. Gold patterns were sewn around the cuffs of his sleeves and pant legs, wrapping around the blue fabric like a bracelet.

His black hair was neatly combed into a voluminous side part, the color a start contrast to his light skin and eyes. The Duke was rather tall as well, towering over the priest with his sharp posture atop lanky limbs.

Once you reach the alter, you stand before your soon-to-be-husband. You look up at him and offer a small smile, but his cold mismatched eyes, one green and one blue, offer no solace, his mouth curved slightly downward in a thin line.

Looking away bashfully, you fiddle with with the flowers in your hand as the Priest begins to speak. You aren't quite listening when the priest goes on, too focused on the floor you're staring at and the fact that you may lose all autonomy after this ceremony.

Your only brought out of your dissociative state when the priests clears his throat. "Miss L/n?"

the priest says. "Huh?" you snap your gaze back upward.

"Do you take Duke Vincent to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?".

"Right right yes," you respond, "I mean, I do— I do.".

Vincent huffs sharply as you stumble over your vows. The priest asks Vincent the same question to which he confidently replies, "I do.".

He glances down at you as he says it, not because he meant it, but more in a smug way that seemed to say "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?". You scrunch your face at him, recoiling slightly at his unspoken tone before the priests ends the ceremony.

"In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you as the Duke and Duchess of North Eurasia!".

The audience erupts in applause while the Duke simply sighs and mutters, "Let's get this over with.".

You tilt your head, "Huh?". But before you can process, your swept off your feet by a crowd of men your bouquet falling on the floor and stomped on as they rush you off, "AH! What are you doing? Put me down!". The men pull at your garments, tearing off your delicate shawl and undoing the lace on your corset.

You see Vox ushered the same way as you, his cloak and shoes thrown off casually as he remains with a calculated expression. Why wasn't he more concerned?! You're dragged out the church and into the reception area where they carry you up the stairs and into a room.

They toss you on the bed, dropping Vox off alongside you and rush out with laughter and teasing comments. "What the hell was that?!" you yell out, "what were they thinking th—"

"Quite," he commands, "Someone will hear you. Now lets get on with it.".

"Get on with what?!— Mmph!" you push him off you as his lips suddenly press against yours, "What are you doing?".

He furrows his eyebrows, as if you were crazy, and replies, "What do you think I'm doing? Did you mother not tell you what happens after a wedding ceremony?".

Your face heats up as reality sets in— you actually had no idea what was supposed to happen after a wedding ceremony. He groans frustratedly at your silence, "Do you know anything?!".

"Hey!" you point a finger at him, "I'm not the one who's... who's perverted!".

He chuckles smugly with an angry undercurrent, "Ohoh, you think I'm perverted? We have to do this, whether or not we hate it. If they find out we avoided this, the marriage is void! So lets just get this over with before they get suspicious!".

You swallow nervously, taking in his words slowly. Why had no one warned you of this? Tears well up in your eyes as a pang in your stomach appears— were you really about to be... derobed in this manner? You'd just met for Gods sake.

Vincent notices your reluctant demeanor and gets off the bed abruptly, an agitated grunt hitting your ears harshly, "Jesus Christ!". He walks over to the nightstand and opens up the bottle of wine sitting on it.

He splashes the crimson liquid on the bedsheets and then rips them off the bed in a swift motion. Marching out of the room, he slams the door behind him and holds the "bloodly" sheets up for the wedding attendees to see. They cheer and applaud at the sight, offering reprieve for Vox that they bought it.

Meanwhile, you stay in the room sitting at the edge of the bed, clutching your chest. What had your parents gotten you into?

𓆩:¨༺✧ ♛ ✧༻¨:𓆪

The carriage ride home was awfully long and painfully silent. You stared at the window, missing Austrica and your friends and family within it. "Aren't you going to thank me?" Vincent asks expectantly.

You turn to him and furrow your eyebrows, "Thank you?".

"You're welcome."

"No—" you scoff, "I mean't thank you for what?".

He gestures his hand forward as if it were obvious, "For faking the sheets! Did you think I just did that for fun?".

You roll your eyes and continue looking out the window, "I'll thank you when something warrants thanking. I'm not rewarding you for not being a pig.".

The Duke crosses his arms and mutters "brat" under his breath before the carriage comes to a halt, "We're here.". Coachmen dressed in a black top hate and long, dark blue coat come to your and Vox's sides to open the door for you.

"Welcome home, your grace," the coachman says, offering a hand out to you.

"Thank you," You take his hand and step out of the carriage, marveling at the beautiful estate before you.

You walk into the massive courtyard, decorated with a large fountain, brick pavement leading to the entrance, and meticulously crafted statues laying atop the perfectly manicured grass beside the shrubbery. The estate surrounded you in grey brick with intricate designs and ivy growing on it, beautifully crafted glass windows scattered against it.

You approach the fountain, your smile dropping upon seeing the figure depicted atop it— a statue of Vincent was sitting proudly with a sword in hand, riding some sort of... toothy sea creature that spit water from its mouth down into the fountain.

"So tacky..." you murmur.

Vincent appears beside you suddenly, startling you. "You like it? I commissioned it from a friend, custom made," he say with an eyebrow wiggle, "I'm quite a patron of the arts".

"Sure you are," you say sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, straightening out his posture.

You scoff, "A true patron of the arts would commission something noble! Not this weird egotistical statue of you riding on some... beast!".

Vincent recoils as if you had insulted his entire bloodline, "Beast?! It's not a beast, it's a Great White Shark!".

"Well whatever it is, it's tacky," you remark while walking away to the entrance of the estate.

Vincent fumes and mutters curses under his breath as he follows you inside. As you walk in, servants and maids line in front of you, giving you a bow while welcoming you in.

"Welcome, your grace," a woman in a purple gown and yellow veil says, "I'm Freesia, your lady in waiting.".

You smile at her, "It's lovely to meet you.". Turning to the rest of the servants, you say, "It's lovely to meet you all.".

Off to the side, you notice Vincent had already left, likely to his study, not bothering with adjusting his new wife to the land. 'Typical,' you think to yourself.

"Freesia, would you mind showing me around here?" you ask, looking for some guidance in your duty and the sprawling home.

She nods and gestures toward her, "Why, of course, your grace. Come along.". You nod at the rest of the servants and they disperse while you follow. Catherine guides you into the many rooms of the estate— the kitchen, the bathrooms, Vincent's study, and then, your and Vincent's room.

"Your and the Duke's room is right here, your grace," she says, opening the door to a large bedroom.

You wince as the words leave her mouth, "Is it possible to have a separate room...?".

Her smile fades slightly before coming back with an obedient nod, "Yes, that can be arranged if you wish— Though I can not promise the Duke will be happy with it.".

"I'll deal with him," you reassure, "thank you for being so accommodating.".

Freesia then leads you outside to a separate courtyard in between parts of the house. A large pool of water with lily pads stretches along the room, various species of colorful fish swimming alongside it. "It's beautiful," you say while sitting beside the pool, dipping your hand in the cool water.

"The Duke was insistent on a water feature with live creatures in it," she chuckles, "it was a rather strange renovation, but when it was all done it was one of the rare times I've seen him smile.".

"Really?" you take your hand out of the water and shake it dry, "it's hard to imagine him actually smiling.".

"It used to not be so hard to come by," she says wistfully, gazing into the distance before returning back to you with a soft expression, "but thats a story for him to tell you. We must be going in now, it's getting late and I would hate for you to catch a cold.".

"Right...," you follow her inside and into your new room, a few doors down from Vox. Freesia helps you settle in and organize your things, assisting you in bathing and dressing you in a long red nightgown with a lace trim that reached your ankles.

"Thank you, Freesia, I should be off to bed now," you climb onto the bed and reach for the candle beside you.

"Yes, your grace," she bows and moves toward the door, "goodnight.".

𓆩:¨༺✧ ♛ ✧༻¨:𓆪

Vincent had retreated to his study as soon as he got back to the estate. He couldn't stand the false niceties between you and the help, it was nauseating. Besides, he had a lot to do after being out the whole day with the ceremony he could hardly call a proper wedding.

You forgot to say "i do" for God's sake! It was truly a shit show and, for a decision made out of convenience, this arrangement was proving to be entirely inconvenient for Vincent— Especially since you decided to disappear right before bed.

After working all day in his study, he decided to retire to his bedchambers only to find that you were missing. It was rather odd for a young duchess to be out of bed this late at night, but then again, you were a rather odd lady to Vincent in general.

He scoured the estate looking for you, through the courtyard, in every room, and even in the servants chambers. "Freesia!" He yells out, "where is y/n?".

Freesia comes out of her room at Vincent's cry rubbing her eyes sleepily, "She requested a separate room, your grace, she's a few doors down in the guest room fast asleep.".

Vincent glares at her, "You let her stay in a different room?".

"I did what my lady asked of me," she says innocently. Vincent groans and grabs a candle as he stomps up the dark opulent staircase to "your room". Storming into the bedroom, Vincent roughly grabs you up by your forearm out the bed.

"What are you doing?!" you ask startled awake. "You're not sleeping in a separate fucking room," he says, dragging you into his bedroom.

"Let me go!" you try to pry away from his grasp but it's fruitless against his strength.

Vincent tosses you on the bed carelessly, "Goodnight.".

You sit up and move your hair away from your face, "I don't want to sleep in here with you! I want to be alone! Give me one good reason why I should–"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE MY WIFE," he yells, "You WILL sleep in here whether you like it or not, got it?!". Your blood runs cold at his stern tone, frightening you further into the side of the bed.

Taking a deep breath, he runs his hands through his now disheveled black hair, "It's been a long day, so just stop being so difficult and go to sleep.". You wanted to argue, wanted to tell him how you would be difficult until the sun came up if it meant being able to have your own space, but you were in no position to argue.

Instead, you crawl into the blankets and turn away from him. With a sharp sigh, Vincent gets into bed opposite of you and blows out the candle, "Goodnight".