certain as the sun.

THEIR MAJESTIES KING ADAM AND QUEEN BELLE OF AURADON ARE PROUD TO PRESENT THEIR CHILD, THEIR ROYAL HIGHNESS EMMA PERRAULT, THE HEIR OF AURADON, FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE INTELLIGENT AND HEADSTRONG, BUT CAN ALSO BE PRESUMPTUOUS AND ARGUMENTATIVE.

Yue was anxious and that was not a feeling that they normally had. But there was something about approaching Emma to tell her that Yue had somehow found themselves in a courtship, well, that was certainly something to be worried about. Not that Emma would be anything but excited. No, her friends opinion was not what she was worried about.

it was simply saying the whole thing allowed. Like there was a magic curse and if she spoke too loudly the entire thing might be taken away from her. Being with Eadric, they felt so lucky. He was strong, kind, and just. Plus, well, she wasn’t blind. Especially not when they were practicing together. The way his arms looked holding his sword were enough to drive anyone feverish.

They were together at tea for the evening, just a few days after the fairy bacchanal. Her friend had seemed somewhat dower lately so perhaps this news would help to cheer her up.

“Emma, my dear friend, I have something important to tell you, as one of my dearest friends,” she took a deep breath. “Eadric and I are courting each other. Or I suppose he’s courting me. My parents have already agreed to it.”

Yue bit her tongue to try and hide the smile on her lips.

@emma-perrault​

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As much as Emma and Yue were normally together, it was more rare that they sat together for tea. It was actually... rare that Yue sat at all. As Emma’s unofficial-but-essentially-official bodyguard, it felt like Yue was almost always on guard for some unknown, impeding danger. While Emma was always thankful to have a friend who cared so much, on more than one occasion she had felt badly about the lack of time they truly got to spend together. Unburdened by danger or societal expectations.

That was why Emma was thankful for the opportunity to take tea that day from her private chambers. The invitation had slipped readily from her lips not ten minutes ago, and before she knew it a full tea service was before her, a tea sandwich in one delicate hand as she began to think up all sorts of topics she’d been meaning to bring up to Yue lately.

Luckily before she could give things too much thought, their voice was breaking the silence with news that was surprising but perhaps not the biggest shock. Emma had read Chattermore (unfortunate) and knew of Eadric (positive). It was a pairing that made much sense to the princess and the news, though a bittersweet reminder of her own romantic and marriage issues currently, was more than welcome.

“Yue, I could not be more happy for you both!” Emma grinned, hands coming together reflexively in excitement. “How did it happen? Please do tell me everything. When did you realize you had feelings for him?”

𝐸𝓂𝓂𝒶 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓊𝓁𝓉

Gwen sat at the tea shop with one of her close friends, and took a long sip of her tea before finally speaking. “I am to be married to Lord Andersen.” She did not know how to bring the information forward, but she wanted all of her dearest friends to know. The women who had been by her side for the past few years, trying to find their own true love with the limited options in the Ton. 

“My mother and Lady Andersen are in the process of planning the wedding itself, and my father and Lord Andersen are coming to terms with the paperwork and funds. I went into town yesterday with my mother and picked out a fabric for the gown as well as… an unbelievable amount of new dresses for when I am… Lady Andersen.” The idea in itself was still appalling. That she would be Lady Andersen, Viscountess, one day soon. Shaking her head, she continued. 

“The reason I am telling you this is well, I would love if you were to attend the wedding and the party thereafter. I should like all of you there, my dearest friends. To celebrate my most blissfully happy of days.” She let a wide smile spread on her face and wondered if her friend believed her or not. Was she able to lie about something such as this? If she were unable to convince a close friend, how was she to convince all of Auradon that this was indeed a love match?

@emma-perrault​​

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Emma could not have been more thankful to be called out to tea by Gwen that afternoon.

Things in the Perrault Castle had been tense, at best, over the last few days and Emma was still repeating Baxter’s parting words to herself even though he was long gone. She wasn’t sure when her life had gotten so complicated, but she longed for the days when she and her closest friends would gather for tea and idle chit-chat.

The tea portion had not taken long to accomplish, Emma letting hers sit for a moment or two so as to not be scalding. The chit-chat... well, pleasantries aside, the two had been sitting in comfortable semi-silence as they settled in. Emma was just about to speak up and inquire after Gwen’s family when out of the blue some truly shocking news was delivered, and the girl had to coach her expression into that of surprised-yet-pleased-near-neutrality.

“Wow,” Emma allowed herself to say, remaining silent as Gwen continued yet letting a certain amount of joy for her friend creep into her face.

There was something about Gwen’s wording, however, that was... admittedly concerning.

“Congratulations! Simply name the date, time, and location and I will be in attendance. You know that I would never miss such a momentous occasion for you,” Emma insisted, carefully moving her cup of tea out of the way so that she could take Gwen’s hand from across the table.

The careful drop in volume of her voice that came next underscored a notable shift in the tone of the conversation, but it was slight enough to not draw the attention of any passersby (not even, she hoped, the omniscient Lady Chattermore).

To be kicked from the doors of the Palace was, by far, the strangest thing that had happened to Baxter to date. Growing up he had easily waltzed through the doors (or sometimes the windows) with Belle waiting eagerly to teach him some sort of lesson. He was comfortable in these halls, far more comfortable than a man with no status should be when entering the hall of the King and Queen, but that was neither here nor there. He had always viewed Emma as one of his dearest friends and now he was being told that he needed to vacate her home.

Well that certainly wasn’t going to do.

With a small pinch of pixie dust, Baxter skirted around the guards and made his way to a window he wall all too familiar with. He knocked twice before entering.

“So the strangest thing just happened. The guards informed me that I was no longer welcome on the premises of the castle. Which, follow me on this, was something I would not have predicted ever happening. So unless you and I are in a fight I am unaware of, I’m confused as to why your parents have suddenly decided that I am not to be present anymore.”

Not that they had really done all they could to keep him from coming around. They knew about his proclivity to flight and hadn’t bothered stationing anyone with a birds eye view to knock him down.

@emma-perrault​

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Emma had assumed that by three and twenty years of age she could anticipate every one of her parents’ actions. Proclamations, meal menus, guest lists - she was certain she knew it all. But there was one thing that she hadn’t foreseen causing quite the stir in the Perrault Castle.

Lady Chattermore.

Shockingly, the article regarding the previous night was not the one that had caused her parents to call her into the library that evening. Peeking over the desk, she’d been able to ascertain that it was the earlier one that mentioned her secluded dance, the latest edition tucked beneath it.

It did take long for Emma to realize that she was in trouble. The consequences of her actions, however, came as a total surprise.

According to King Adam, she had spent far too much time with Baxter Pan-Darling and she needed to do a better job of seeking out a husband. It was, after all, the only way to secure the crown and the longevity of the Perrault rule of the kingdom. Dancing freely with multiple gentlemen, as it would turn out, had been a good thing, but she had not diversified her interest enough to be entirely pleasing.

Truthfully, much of the previous night was a blur to the princess, a dance or two with various gentlemen sticking out to the girl as much as how she was almost certain she’d attempted to rest her head on Baxter’s shoulder at one point or another.

So she understood. Truly. It looked bad to play favorites and she and Baxter were not courting. He had not brought flowers, declared any sort of intentions, or even indicated to her in the slightest that he had any interest in marriage in general. Being explicitly ordered to stay away from one of her dearest friends, however, was extreme. She was not even allowed to pen him a note warning him to give her parents (and herself) a wide berth.

Was anyone truly surprised when he then appeared at her window just hours later? A frown settling onto her face the minute she heard a knock at her window, Emma did not even wait until Baxter was in her room before she began to pace about.

“If we are in a fight I am also unaware, but you’re correct. We’re not meant to be seeing each other at present. My fault, I’m sure, but as it’s my first official season I’m apparently meant to be entirely focused on finding a husband. Chattermore is not helping in that quest. She has... misread the situation and called out you and I multiple times. My parents insist on putting an end to that speculation.”

*********************************************

“I know you have. After all, with me in your life for the past decade or so of course we’ve had fun,” Baxter teased, smiling brightly. It was so nice to see her relaxed and carefree. Even if it was at the behest of a fairy’s trick. “What would people think if they knew all of the adventures we had gotten up to in our youth? Chattermore certainly would have things to say.”

He wanted to say more but suddenly he was being pulled onto the dance floor by the over excited princess. The man laughed again and begun to dance, following the easy movement of the crowd around them. He spun her twice before catching her in a dip with a bright grin.

“You look beautiful when you smile.”

It was the truth of the matter, the most truthful he had ever been and for a moment, well his heart fluttered. What was that feeling? How strange and bizarre it was.

“I think I’ve simply realized I don’t care what the masses think of us. Let them be curious. All that matters is that I am here with you, princess.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Of course. And I’m sure that your presence in my life has never caused me any stress whatsoever,” Emma intoned, the way she said things equally as telling as the words themselves.

In truth, Baxter had been responsible for many of the adventures of her childhood. His parents had brought him around so often that they had quickly grown accustomed to each other, and they’d become fast friends. She had always been there to balance out his more daring instincts, to lend some realism to some of his more fanciful notions. She had always felt she’d been a good grounding force for him. It was nice to know (or, at least, it seemed) that he could look back on her meddling and anxiety fondly enough.

“Chattermore would say that you are incorrigible and I easily swayed,” Emma shrugged, “which is certainly not a favorable description for the future Queen but I imagine you would only further rise in popularity.”

It was easy enough to talk and dance at the same time, especially with how close Emma was allowing herself to get to Baxter. With not a care in the world, she was more tactile. When not spinning or dipping (both quite fun for her), she was sure to keep their hands intertwined in one way or another. She was sure were they not dancing she would be doing the same, perhaps leaning her head against his shoulder in a show of familiarity. The thought felt nice in her mind, but alas could not be a reality yet (or, in polite society, at all).

Instead, his compliment brought both another smile and skeptical look to her face.

“And when I’m not smiling?” she inquired, narrowing her eyes in faux-judgment before relaxing.

*********************************************

What sort of cake had she eaten again? Baxter tried to remember the flavors that Silverbell had told him would be there that evening and their various effects. Whatever she had ingested, he was quite sure that dear Emma had gone and gotten herself intoxicated on fairy delicacies. That was going to be a fun story for them later, after she sobered up, and he told her all about her dancing feet.

He laughed gently, “Well I am glad to see you have gone and let yourself experience some excitement and happiness for once. Surely it is something that you deserve. Even a princess needs to let loose on the occasion.”

There was no way that Baxter was going to stop her excitement and happiness that evening. She seemed like she was floating on cloud nine and it was the happiest he had ever seen her. Even as a child she had a proclivity for overthinking. Right now, she was simply free.

“Perhaps I’ll try one later in the evening. For now I was wondering if you would dance with me again?” Baxter grinned and squeezed her hand. “You seem like you could use a dancing partner.”

And though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he much preferred it was him than some random stranger come to take advantage of the princess when she was in such a state.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“I’ve experienced excitement and happiness before!” Emma insisted, instantly defensive of her usual demeanor. Yes, she was feeling more free than ever before, but even in her regular life she always made time to make good memories - picnics with friends, violin lessons with her favorite teacher from her childhood, amusing the children of the palace staff in the servants quarters on particularly long nights of work.

Dances with attractive old friends in private in the middle of high-stress events. That one had made the papers.

"Two in a row. What will Lady Chattermore say?” she joked, not even giving him time to react before she was dragging Baxter off to the dance floor. Last time had been private, with the two of them dancing perhaps a little closer than they should have simply due to their familiarity with each other.

That evening was public, but decorum had been thrown out the window. The music wasn’t a waltz, and everyone was simply moving their bodies however they felt the music called for. Her own movements thus far had involved twirls and simple steps, generally fairly calm... minus her dance with Nasir.

If that one made Lady Chattermore, it was simply because they danced too well. There were far more interesting things happening that evening, she was sure.

“You were so hesitant to ask me to dance before, at the ball, for fear of gossip. We tried our best and were still the target of it anyway. And yet tonight things are different. Was I just that convincing when I told you that we can and should dance together at future events?”

it wasn’t often that nasir was not only invited to a gathering that sounded like it could turn out to be truly entertaining but was told that the stuffy attire was optional. it was the very reason he found himself going. honestly, if he could have run there he would have done so. it was his, moment, so to speak. the outfit he wore, freeing and comfortable. obviously, something most people wouldn’t dare to wear but, look at him daring.

at this point there was only so much he could do to further shame himself. wearing an outfit without a shirt beneath it would be the least scandalous thing he would get up to, he was sure.

when he entered the gathering in the evening, nasir was thankful for his ensemble. it seemed to suit the atmosphere quite well. if he did say so himself. it wasn’t as if he usually would consider himself, what people would call a rake, but he most certainly wasn’t shy with his affection. unless, you were a specific someone that he happened to catch sight of from across the way and deliberately turned towards the drinks. his heart burning in his chest slightly just thinking of him.

grabbing a drink easily, he paid no mind to what he brought to his lips. the wine was soothing. calmed some of the nerves he had at simply seeing abraham. the last time they had seen each other, had not gone well. it was his fault, he knew. as most things were. but, still, still.

taking another drink, he made his way around the room, moving his body with a few faeries that he had never met before, but they danced with him none the less. that was until he caught sight of a certain princess. a small smile curved the edge of his lips as he moved towards her.

“your highness,” he spoke lightly in greeting, bowing with an over extravagance, simply because he could. but the smile stayed, lightly teasing as he stood to his rightful height. “i do hope you are enjoying tonight’s festivities.” there was a thinly veiled laugh in there somewhere. @emma-perrault​

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

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Emma had not known what to expect when she’d made her way into that evening’s festivities. Her dressers had insisted that she wear the latest finery and she was undeniably overdressed for the occasion. However, after a couple of minutes of polite chatter, her worries had slowly begun to fade away.

Within a half hour of her arrival she had found her way to the refreshments, and unbeknownst to her, her fate for the evening had been decided.

She had never been able to say no to berries, and the white one atop the delicate cake she had popped into her mouth her been so intriguing.

The shift from still somewhat self-conscious to carefree had not been gradual. One moment she was stressing about her dress for the evening, comparing herself to everyone else in the room and worrying about a group nearby for whom things were perhaps getting a little out of hand (several individuals seemed to be acting rather oddly), and the next...

“Oh!” she started at Nasir’s voice, having been so focused on the shift she felt within herself that she hadn’t seen him coming. “Şehzade,” she offered as her own greeting, bobbing into a lazy curtsy simply because it was engrained in her to do so.

Without much thought she was looking the male over, appreciating his choice of clothing for the night. It was the exact style of dress that the night called for. She could not even find it in herself in that moment to be jealous, instead following up her words just seconds before with an eager remark.

“How did you know exactly what to wear? You look marvelous,” she smiled.

But then the music shifted behind them and her eyes instantly widened, a thought coming to her that refused to be ignored.

"Oh, Nasir, we should dance. No. No, we must dance.”

Baxter was enjoying the evening more than he could put into words. There was nothing more exciting than a night of frivolity and excitement. The fairies certainly knew how to put on a ball. Of course, he knew that, having spent most of his life around the fairies in Neverland. Especially with his closest and oldest friend being Silverbell.

He was searching for his friend to see what kind of game she was playing with the humans (ones he would certainly join in if he could) when he came across Emma. She was dancing and it surprised him to see her dancing so care free.

Through the crowd, Baxter moved quickly, taking her hand and giving her a spin before separating her from the others she was with.

“Good evening to you Miss Princess. Are you enjoying yourself?”

@emma-perrault​​

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Emma had been the dancefloor almost all evening.

This was not anything new, really, as she had always enjoyed dancing. Rather, it was the style of dance that was likely shocking to those who had been expecting her to be at peak royal status that evening.

No, she’d simply taken a bite of a delicious white berry cake that evening and it was like she had become a new person, her usual anxious nature taking leave to allow her to (for perhaps the first time) truly enjoy herself for an evening. She hadn’t even needed a partner for the dances, happy to spin in a circle on her own. Her body had just needed to keep moving, and she’d let it. For at least a half hour. She hadn’t even taken stock of who else might be in attendance, her contentedness to just dance reigning supreme.

But then she’d felt a hand in hers, and the desire to snatch her hand away was overwhelming. Had the voice greeting her not been that of Baxter Pan-Darling, perhaps she might have. Instead, she twirled happily, letting him keep their hands connected as she somewhat reluctantly left her place amongst the crowd.

“Baxter,” she breathed out once they were far enough away that they could easily converse.

“I truly do not know if I have ever enjoyed myself more. Though my night is now even better thanks to your arrival. Have you been here long? You simply must try the cakes with the white strawberries. They’re divine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wrinkles? On me?” Baxter gasped and pretended to be offended. “I would never allow my face to be harmed in such manner. However I admit my parents wrinkles are likely from all their laughter and yours are from their stress. Not that I am not eternally grateful for all they do for our kingdom. We are lucky to have them as our King and Queen.”

Emma was always one to get lost in her own head and he hoped that he could at least distract her enough to watch her smile. If she was going to get wrinkles that was the way it should happen.

“Then Queen Emma the Gullible it is,” he said with a soft laugh. “Though I doubt that is truly how you will end up. You will be a woman remembered well in history, that I can assure you. Our books and minds will be reminded of you far into our future,” he tried to assure her, “And not as the Gullible. But as the Wise. The Kind. You have done many a great service by opening the Shadow Realm children up to live in Auradon.”

And then she was taking his arm and they were getting ready to dance. As they spun to the music, Baxter smiled. “Well then I suppose we’re dancing now. My evening has been well enough. I met a man from the Shadow Realm named Smeethington who I enjoyed the company of. Perhaps I will endeavor to make better friends with him.”

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“Yes, well, the stress is unavoidable,” Emma pointed out, not looking to continue their conversation about wrinkles much further. She was three-and-twenty years old. There would be plenty of time to worry about the effects of her lifestyle on her face later.

No, instead she felt an uncontrollable pout come across her face as she digested the nickname she’d accepted, most unhappy with it when it was actually coming from Baxter. She knew it had been a problem of her own making, having designated it as the only acceptable one, but... it had taken a matter of seconds for her to determine that she needed to never hear it again.

“No, no. I must clarify. That full title you may only use when not in my presence. You are one of the rare few who I prefer just call me Emma,” she insisted quickly, not processing his other words until they had already begun their dance.

This was not their first waltz together, but it was their first since she had made her debut. And it was certainly their first where they were entirely alone. Both new components of the situation were weighing on her in an unexpected way as they spun around, and his kind words were making a nice home for themselves in her mind. Altogether, it was a little overwhelming for reasons she simply could not place. But finding that she had been silent for perhaps a moment too long, Emma spoke up again.

she could always count on Emma to reassure her that there was no shelf for her to be on if she wasn’t looking for one. which, of course was true and while she didn’t get worried glances from her mother and father, she could see a look in the eyes of other parents. if she were being honest, she wasn’t very sure why she was the diamond of the season, but she wasn’t going to argue with it. Emma’s mother must have had a good reason for such a choice. “you’re right of course,” she acquiesced softly, smiling at her friends words. even if she wished to argue, the comment still warmed her heart. 

“but, don’t you dare think that you are also going to be sought after. you are all times incomparable. no matter the season,” she added as her own form of one up. just to make sure Emma knew she thought she was just as lovely if not more so. 

Emma was under a scrutiny for her first decree that many of her companions around her might not understand. if there was anyway, Drusilla could make sure she never doubted herself, she would be sure to do so. if it meant she must remind her friend that there were parents that agreed with her, she would do it. if it also meant she needed to show her how lovely she was, she would do so. the simple things. 

listening as she spoke of dinner, Drusilla understood. there had been a bit of a pause. an uncertainty. but, that was to be expected. those born in the other realm were not used to the expectations of Auradon. well, she planned on giving them the benefit of the doubt either way. they were put in clothing, that perhaps they have never worn. dealing with new traditions they may have never seen. but, that was the issue wasn’t it, they didn’t really know them or their lives. 

“perhaps, the best move would be to reach out to them.” the words leaving her mouth, made her think of her own counter part from the shadow realm. her heart clench at the very thought. “i, myself, am hoping to locate Juliette Grimhilde, tonight,” she spoke softly but truthfully. she had seen the other girl at dinner but hadn’t had the opportunity to say anything, instead planning on saying something later in the evening. but she had nerves bubbling in her tummy. 

“really, i wish i had already welcomed her in the beginning but, alas, i haven’t had the time,” and she was also slightly nervous to do so. she didn’t know much of the other girl. outside of them being a similar age and she was quiet pretty. “but, i plan on connecting. perhaps, that is something we could try to,” pausing for a moment she thought over what to say, “facilitate or take the lead on.” 

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

“Ah, but I have made quite the decision. I’m certain that many who were thinking of making an attempt might be reconsidering now. And that is perfectly fine with me. I do not want to marry one who does not agree with my decree, so that at the very least helps to narrow down the field to either those after the power and wealth associated with my title or those who have a genuine interest in getting to know me.”

It certainly hadn’t been her intention when she had made her controversial edict, but doing so had certainly changed her life. Being that it was her first season, it was impossible to know how much had been impacted, but she was not ignorant of the fact that some eyed her warily, or even suspiciously, now that she had really begun to put her shadow-born integration plan into action. And that evening was only step two of things. She was undoubtedly only facing more judgment in the future.

Plus, she had never felt any sort of interest that would lead her to want to marry. Until that time came she was more or less content remaining an eligible young lady.

“I accept your compliment, though,” she nodded, next offering a small shrug. She wasn’t prepared to fully allow for the one-up. “We are both forever incomparable.”

Pursing her lips as she mulled over Dru’s suggestion, what was giving her pause wasn’t the idea as much as the execution. She had thought that by inviting everyone to the dinner and ball that evening, after having been the reason why the shadow-born had been invited to Auradon in the first place, she’d already taken quite a few steps. She had thought that perhaps the next step forward needed to come from the shadow-born, a sign that would grant her some sense of acceptance of the olive branch she’d extended. But... perhaps she had not been entirely correct (not wrong, per se).

“Specifically with the children of those that our parents fought against?” Emma asked. “Or any of the shadow-born? I am, of course, always happy to take the lead, and I do believe Gaston has a son. I’m just hesitant, I think, as I’m not sure where his head might be at. Is he resentful? Of me? Would he even wish to speak with me? And would we get along if we were to speak? Or, if his father did pass down his misogynistic tendencies, would our speaking potentially only make it seem like I didn’t like him because of our families’ pasts, as opposed to a clash of personalities and beliefs. This is all just such a delicate situation, you know?”

PERRAULT FAMILY AESTHETICS #1/-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Of course you aren’t concerned about wrinkles,” Baxter teased, pressing a finger between her forehead where worry lines were already forming. “And even if you did have them you know you’d still be beautiful.”

He had always suspected there was a shared comradery between the two of them. Ever since they were young they’d been close, her mother going as far as to attempt to instill in him the manners a young boy ought to have. But it wasn’t in that department that he felt them to be kindred spirits. Through their time together he had never once noticed her eyes wander to anyone. She had never told him stories of a first love or stolen touches that weren’t allowed. And he hoped that they had the kind of relationship where she would tell him.

Even if, for some reason, Baxter wasn’t really keen on hearing them.

“Hey now, only I’m allowed to call you Queen Emma the Idiot.” He reached out gently and put his hands on her shoulders. It was inappropriate to say the least, or it would have been had they not had their shared history. Certainly if anyone else were to see it would lead to a million implications. But in that moment all he cared about was putting Emma’s mind at ease. “Take a deep breath. You are not going to be a failure. You’re done spectacularly so far and, well, as far as love it’ll come when it comes.”

That’s always the way Baxter had thought it to be. One day love would simply find whoever it was after.

“You are going to be as amazing as you always are in everything you do. Always. Endlessly you amaze me and everyone around you so take a deep breath and try to enjoy yourself for one evening. You’ve done everything you can so now you must let the pieces fall where they may.”

When she agreed to dance with him Baxter lit up. “Well then a dance we shall have. Follow me, my lady,” he winked and offered his arm to her.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Emma did not take well to the formation of frown lines being pointed out.

One finger out from her fist to indicate a potential lecture on the horizon, though her tone was not necessarily one of reprimand her actions said otherwise.

“Compliments do not erase that comment or the teasing,” she pointed out, haughty. “I am sure that everyone develops lines from concentration or worry. Gods know my parents both have them. And even your parents, childlike at heart as your father may be. Even you, Mister Pan-Darling, will eventually develop them. And the more we speak, the more I’m convinced that I, in our many years of friendship still to come, will be the source of a few.”

Though the male’s act of reassurance had caught her off guard, it didn’t take Emma long to accept the gesture for what it was - a friendly grounding in reality. She had always been argumentative, ready to defend her beliefs at the drop of a hat, but sadly she also cared what people thought about her. The curse of being so in the public eye. But Baxter was correct. She was still young, and her reign had not yet even begun. History had not decided how it would remember her yet. There was time.

“No, of the three I listed, I believe I’d prefer Queen Emma the Gullible from you. It is by far the least harsh, as those who are gullible are generally thought to have good hearts. I do like to think that I connect with them on that,” she murmured after a few deep breaths, carefully removing herself from the male’s hands (with a dual squeeze of his hands in her own first) in order to allow herself to pace. When she could not play her violin, walking was the next best thing that allowed her to clear her mind. It was why she had wandered so far into the garden that evening, and in truth why their garden had become so complex over the years in the first place - she simply needed a more involved route to take. Sadly, Baxter’s friendly touch was not clearing her mind as much as clouding, but she did not elect to dissect that at present. And so she started back towards the terrace.

“You and I both know that I have never been good at letting the pieces fall where they may. By necessity I have always been a chess master, working to be moves ahead and always prepared for a deviation on the part of the other players. It’s just so difficult to do that when said other players are unknown to me.”

But if the walking was helping to clear her mind, surely dancing would wipe it entirely, yes?

Taking the male’s offered arm without a second thought, Emma set the pace for the remaining stretch of land left to be wandered before they hit the candle-lit plateau outside of the ballroom. She could hear the music again, which meant that they were close. The mixed feelings that she felt as they approached surprised her.

She didn’t give voice to them, however. Instead she let her arm slip away from Baxter’s, moving instead to lightly hit him with the back of her hand as she came to a realization. “We have spent all this time talking about me, but you have not shared how your night was faring!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can tell when you’re frustrated with me,” Baxter side, watching her with a curious expression. He thought for a minute before taking a deep breath. Very rarely did anyone get to see his serious side but Emma perhaps made him think more than others. It was better, in truth, that she did. Sometimes he was poor at expressing himself properly, far too enthralled with excitement or silliness. “Let me speak again, perhaps better making you understand my point.”

“I know why you’re troubled this evening but I implore you to at least attempt to enjoy yourself. You’ll get wrinkles. As for having myself a daughter I have no interest in women or men or anyone else for that matter. I have interest in a dance with you and the wind in my hair when I take to the skies with some pixie dust guiding me. But that does not mean I am not aware of the plight of women in current society. You have told me many a time and I am inclined to agree.”

Baxter turned to give her his full attention. Perhaps distracting her wasn’t exactly what she needed. He had trouble giving into his frivolities. There was a twitch somewhere in his stomach when she mentioned the very thought of marrying Henry Charming of all people.

“Your parents are the exception, dear Emma, not the rule. There would be gossip either way but if you insist upon it I can walk back to the ballroom and wait for you to enter to ask you to dance there. But tell me, is it just the simpleness of it being your first season that has you so flustered?”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Emma had always believed that she knew Baxter better than he knew her, but his pivot of their conversation that evening had taught her that she had perhaps misread things. He was not wrong, she was frustrated with him. And his words did placate her, his shift to a legitimate discussion about her worries catching her off guard.

“I’m not... concerned about wrinkles,” she murmured, zeroing in on the one thing that would take the least amount of digesting out of all he had just said.

In truth, she had delayed her entrance to society for as long as possible because she’d had similar thoughts to the ones Baxter had just expressed - not having any interest in men, women, or anyone. She’d questioned if it might be something she outgrew, something that would shift to make her entrance to the marriage mart more palatable. But no. Nothing had changed. It appeared that was simply her lot in life, and she’d felt decently isolated about it. It was nice to know she wasn’t alone... as long as she wasn’t reading too much into his words. But it was also something that she didn’t feel she could press on in the moment. Not when she could prattle on about the complexities of being a society woman, her own relationship with the institution of marriage, or any number of other relevant topics.

Pursing her lips as she worked to come up with an appropriate response to his well-stated sentiments, Emma mulled over every possible reason why she was flustered that evening. The answer was complex, but also incredibly simple.

“I think it’s everything, Bax.”

Frowning, she drew closer to him (if only to lean against the wall he was sitting upon), continuing her words as she moved.

“It’s the idea that I’m almost expected to choose my future husband based on who shows up to my home with flowers, on top of the fact that I’m being given more responsibility when it comes to the kingdom, on top of the fact that with that responsibility I’ve made a huge change that has several citizens quite upset with me. If tonight doesn’t go well, I could very well be known as Queen Emma the Idiot or Queen Emma the Gullible... Queen Emma the Failure. And then you have the added spice of the dull panic in the back of my mind that is a non-stop questioning of how am I supposed to marry for love if I don’t even know what love feels like? And then I still need to be making it seem at all times like nothing is wrong. This is all just... exhausting.”

Having finally fully digested all of his words, the girl made the choice to zero in yet again on a safer topic, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes yet as she offered a change in subject.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yes yes, so much dependent on the outcome of tonight,” Baxter nodded and sat upon the wall of the gazebo listening to her with only about half of his attention. As much as he enjoyed Emma’s company and friendship she had such a way of worrying herself to sickness. He always felt like it was his job to ensure she didn’t. Even the princess needed some fun in her life.

They had been friends for long enough that he could tell a great many things about her attitude based on the way she carried herself. She was intensely worried about the evening and while he wasn’t in the slightest, he did at least understand her concern. As her first royal decree if this went poorly so could her entire future rule.

“Come on Emma, let the people think what they want,” he stood again and beamed, offering his hand to her. “Their gossip doesn’t matter and no one will see us here. They’ll think more if a man with no title from Neverland asked you for a dance and you said yes, wouldn’t they? No doubt they want you to marry a Lord or a Duke or someone else. Dear old Baxter isn’t any of those things?”

He was mostly teasing. His lack of title didn’t bother him in the slightest, even when it came to his friendship with the future Queen. Whatever people thought was their business not his. Baxter liked their relationship just the way it was. 

Which was just friends, for the record.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

One didn’t have to be a years-long friend of Baxter to notice when he wasn’t giving a conversation his full attention. He was making it abundantly clear both in tone and words that he was not going to offer much for her panic beyond casual reassurances and perhaps a distraction, and truthfully? Emma didn’t want to pursue the topic with him. Not yet, at least. Not until he indicated to her that he was going to be a full participant in the conversation.

Instead, with a flick of her wrist she brushed him off, ignoring his first words entirely as she also ignored the hand he’d offered out to her.

“You can be as dismissive as to the thoughts of others as you want, but I think we both know that things are different for me. And not even because of my title. The rules of society are just different for girls and I pray that you never have a daughter so you never have to truly understand. I don’t appreciate the fact that I won’t be able to go anywhere unchaperoned until I’ve announced my engagement. And even then, realistically until I’m wed. That could be years from now.”

The crossed arms returned, as did a whininess to her tone. At least she was cognizant of the fact that it was likely unappealing. But what was perhaps more unappealing was Emma’s response to the suggestion that she’d be marrying a Duke.

“What, like Henry Charming?” she nearly snorted, thankful that there was no reason to be perfectly ladylike in Baxter’s presence. “I would rather stick pins in my eyes. No, this may surprise you to discover, but in all of my years of existence my parents have never broached the subject of marriage to me. I imagine I’ll soon know more, given that I’m entering my first season in society, but... my mother fell in love with a beast who she grew to love under very questionable circumstances. I don’t think that my dancing with you would be a cause for public outcry. Especially when the polite thing to do would be for me to say yes to anyone who asks. Us being discovered unchaperoned together in this garden might, however.”

of course Drusilla knew that Emma didn’t enjoy the role that titles played in their lives but they were at a ball being thrown in her honor after all. decorum had a place and this certainly would have been it. still, a tickling of happiness when one of her dearest friends linked their arms together so that they may do a turn about the room. “you worried because you are a good person that only wished for things to go well,” she soothed gently, hoping it would ease any remaining worries. despite Emma starting she should not have been, they both knew that it didn’t stop the feeling from lurking. 

the ease that she had flowing through her bones just by being the presence of her friend, had her willing to be truthful, even if she whispered it. “the days have been long.” she responded softly. not wishing to provide too much detail but the worried glances from her parents certainly weren’t helping her. “you would think i have already been put on the shelf.” there was humor in her words but they both knew it was an actual worry that lie in wait in her chest. “however, getting ready for the ball, was exciting. my mother spent time to remind me that the shadow realm children may be related to those that did harm, but it does not mean they will.” she giggled softly, “as if i didn’t already agree.” 

“dinner was lovely. i enjoyed the company i had next to me and the evening has been splendid. now you,” her words stopped as she looked to her friend, “time to tell me how you have been. same rules apply.” 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

While a sense of reassurance always fell over Emma when she spoke with Drusilla, that evening her friend had a particularly calming effect. Even if her words had not been nearly so full of compliments, it was likely she would have felt the same. There was just something about her presence. The words surely didn’t hurt, though.

“I can’t see you remaining on the shelf unless you decided to be,” Emma decided to focus on, putting off any more talk of how high-stress that evening was for her until she had fully addressed Dru’s concerns. “After all, you’re the diamond of the season. I do believe that means you’re likely to have your pick of suitors. I am, of course, thrilled for you, but at the same time am saddened. How will I ever compete with the throngs of people who will be lining up to bring you flowers and woo you with poetry or kind gestures?”

There was a slight teasing tone to her words, but only because she knew that at the end of the day, she wouldn’t have to compete for Drusilla’s attention. They were the best of friends. No matter what was going on in their lives, they were always going to be there for each other.

It was nice to hear that Dru’s parents were so supportive of her decree, too. Not all had been so open, which Emma made sure to plainly state as she allowed her smile to drop just a smidge. “I do appreciate your mother. My parents both had a mild amount of apprehension, but they’ve come around.”

She didn’t let her expression falter for long. Instead, Emma launched right into the next so-perfectly-framed topic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the crowned princess shouted his name, taken aback and caught off guard, Baxter let out a boyish laugh. “I wish you could see you face right now, Emma.”

He was enough like his father to find the humor in these things but a little too much like his mother to not do them all the time. She had been grooming him for society to meet and was determined to make sure that her son didn’t embarrass the Darling family. Peter was much more lax about the whole thing, asking that his son simply didn’t get into too much trouble.

Lucky for everyone, Emma kept him grounded enough that even a mountain of pixie dust wouldn’t get him too far into the air.

Probably.

“I know, I know. You must ask me to refrain for being improper. Don’t you always?” Baxter teased. “You needed to loosen up. You’ve been tense all evening and looking at you was giving me a headache. Come now, shouldn’t you be having a little fun at the event you so tirelessly planned. The evening is going perfectly so take a deep breath and let loose. Enjoy a glass, come to the dance floor with me, anything or everything.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“I’ve been right to be tense, I think. A lot is dependent on the outcome of tonight,” Emma pointed out, her arms crossing before she could tell them to not. She never wanted to appear the very picture of a petulant child, but that had always been her default when she grew defensive.

As much as she wished she could tell Baxter that he was incorrect, that she’d been somewhat more loose after five sips of champagne, she knew it would be untrue. Even with the champagne, which she’d consumed over an hour prior at that point, the stress had remained in her body. Her posture was never less than perfect as she attempted to be the absolutely picture of welcoming grace.

It was her duty as the heir to the throne to appear as unfazed as possible, and she’d thought she’d been doing an excellent job. But Baxter knew her better than some simple observers, and certainly better than the Shadow Born. Of course he would see right through her and insist that she do the one thing that she’d been trying to avoid all night.

What if she were to relax and something were to happen?

“I don’t think I ever ask you to do anything unreasonable. But for future reference, if you simply want to ask me for a dance, you can ask in the ballroom and I will agree. Following me out here to ask is elaborate. I mean, what will people think?”