Of House Grimaldi

“Not locked away, per se,” She said with a laugh, glancing at him over her shoulder. And she wasn’t. Russia was beautiful and so were the people, in the sense that they were vastly different from what she knew while being the same. Her husband was patient and kind, but still, they seemed to prefer different parts of the castle nearly constantly. “I am glad to be in France. I know French,” She teased lightly before shaking her head. “Besides, my family is here as well, and many mysteries, if I’m correct,” She hummed, looking back at him again with a faint grin. “Perhaps you could show me?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anything short of everything for a creature such as herself seemed a prison to Luca, whether the walls were painted in gold, the beds dressed in silk, or the uniforms ordered in finest fashion hardly mattered. Then again, the prince had very few prisons left to endure he did not impose on himself. His head turned to her, his blue eyes alight, “many mysteries”, he confirmed. The prince offered up a playful tone, though the offer was as real as any, “I’ll show you anything you would like your highness”.

How did she end up in this conversation she wasn’t sure but she was half falling asleep and half wanting to run away, but she couldn’t do that, it would be rude. Still she was suffering, the duke wasn’t shutting up, his conversation was dull and his tone of voice the worst thing she had ever heard. She jumped when someone interrupted them and swayed her away. “Ah, I really was. Thank you.” 

The prince chuckled a moment before offering a somewhat rushed bow by way of greeting, “I -milady- am in the mood for some form of adventure, perhaps if you’d care to care to cleanse yourself of the dukes joyous company you might join me?” 

With his horse left to be cared for in the stable he began his bounding back to the castle grounds. Somewhere before the castle and along the gardens spotting someone who seemed in dire need of assistance and a reasonable risk to themselves or others, the dukes chatter was monotone yet lacking proper pronunciation. Without much -or any- thought, Luca had stepped forward eyes turning on the victim of the dukes never ending monologue, “I have been looking for you!” Without so much as another word he nodded in the direction of the duke, wrapped his arm through that of his audience member and swept them away. Once out of hearing distance he turned to them, “I was concerned if I left you with him any longer you might start looking for something sharp.”

The duchess would have nodded feverishly had Luca given her the chance, but his lips were upon her before she had the time to show how much she needed them. Still, Katherine felt her legs nearly go out from under her as she melted into his kiss. 

They parted eventually, Katherine becoming light-headed, but she kept her lips barely touching his, whispering, “Try again.”

Luca almost laughed but it ended a deep vibration through his chest. His hand migrated from the side of her face to the back of he neck where he pulled her closer, at her words that seemed the immediate objective, closeness. Releasing her wrist the prince pressed her closed to his body by the small of his back.

Katherine found herself biting her lower lip as she achingly watched the man lean down and kiss along her wrist, smiling at the sight of him so very proud of himself. She shook her head slowly. 

“Almost.”, she nearly whispered, her voice soft, “You missed.”

“Is that so?” he asked, staple smirk still present on his lips as he peered up at her. He lowered his hand, still circling her wrist and straightened just enough to reach her height. The prince’s free hand moved to the side of her face which seemed minuscule in his grasp, “shall I try again?”

“I would consider kindness a ruby necklace, a principality, or… a kiss. Anything you wish to offer?”

Luca took a step closer, searching her face as he pretended to mull over the options.

She let her fingers trace absently against the walls. “Tea with girls that like to titter about while speaking in Russian - I’m not very fluent. Or long dinners with very little entertainment,” She said with a shrug as she looked back at him. “I find that alcohol tends to dim your senses, as well, but I suppose if you’re already bored, a little won’t hurt.” 

“The tale of a lovely Swedish princess locked away in a grey Russian tower”. He made a face that showed his distaste. Luca had a hard time with waiting, with living through things he found dreadful, and while more often than not he could spin them into something more pleasant with a little charm if he was unable to do so he simply didn’t stand for it. “Be as grateful as I am for you then that you have found yourself in France of all places. There are many things here to intrigue the senses, and the castle walls hide them well”, he finished with a reassuring wink. 

She followed him curiously, knowing that she was indeed putting her life into this man’s hands. Though she didn’t think he was likely to hurt her. “I prefer to enjoy many things, but circumstances tend to dull the senses from time to time,” She said, grinning slightly. She peeked into the wall almost as if she expected something to jump out at her. She knew that her childhood home had had such passageways, and she’d been through them often with Phillip, but now was different. She peeked back at him and then stepped forward into the doorway.

He followed after her and closed the door behind them, luckily the hallways-while dim- were not completely dark. Windows scattered throughout and unlit gauntlets waiting for night. Luca raised an eyebrow, “what circumstances dull your senses?” While the question was serious it maintained the same tone most of the things he said did. He nodded to his left before stepping in that direction, taking the inside -slightly darker, more alcove ridden- half of the hall. 

Her head cocked to the side, a goofy smile on her features, “It’s kindness you offer us then? What sort?”

“Is kindness not usually defined by the receiver?” He asked with a raised brow. Luca mirroring a grin as wide as her own, though more mischievous, “what would you consider kindness duchess?”

She looked towards the wall curiously. She didn’t doubt that they were useful, she just didn’t expect to be going through one. “I believe that I would be remiss if I didn’t enjoy somethings, correct?” She asked, smiling faintly as he abandoned the overcoat. “When in France, and all…” 

He made his way over to the far right corner of the room where the hall that ran along the back corridor was located and turned to her with a smile. “Enjoy only some things your grace? Now I would be remiss if you did not enjoy as many as time allows.” Turning back to the wall he found the latch hidden in the white wainscoting and pulled the panel door towards them. “After you.”

“I suppose you may change the terms, but it doesn’t spoil my glee any.”, Katherine answered, laughing herself. She trotted ahead of him towards the orange grove, turning and tugging the prince along. “Tell me, your grace. Have you found Versailles accommodating so far?”

Luca hung back a moment and took in the sight of her amidst the orange trees with a smile before allowing her to tug him along. "Far more than I deserve, seeing as I’ve been offered no chance to return the kindness.”

She hummed a moment before answered, “Only if they’re handsome, your grace. And only if I’m merely trying to use a walk as a ploy to get them all to myself and they so easily fall for it.” 

“So in most cases? No, I am not so forgiving.”

Luca laughed and nodded his head as if admitting he’d been bested, candor a unusual tool that he found he rather liked -so long as it was accompanied by a face like her own. “Is it still considered falling for it if I am more than willing to be monopolized?”

She couldn’t imagine waking up in various stages of undress in rooms that were not her own. It was rare that it even happened at all when she still lived in Sweden with her family, let alone impossible in Russia. “Through the walls?” She asked, curious. She knew that a castle as old as Versailles had it’s own secrets, but it was strange to think about at all. “I’m not otherwise occupied, no,” She said, chewing on her lip lightly. “Through the walls?” She repeated, almost incredulous. The idea of getting lost in the castle was daunting enougj. Getting lost in the castle walls was almost scary.

Luca nodded with a smile as he laced his shirt. “Intended for castle staff and drunkards who wish to avoid prying eyes”, he joked. He decided on abandoning the shredded overcoat, the judgement from the seamstress not worth saving a garment he’d already begun to grow tired of. “That is if such an adventure is an acceptable place to start?”

       Etta Freja was certainly not a prude; she had been married for close to a decade to a rambunctiously passionate man and any moral zealotism on her behalf had long since dissipated - perhaps it was never truly there to began with. “ it certainly is a lovely morning…” she spoke stepping forward, her dark eyes roaming his broad and exposed chest. “ If not a little chilly.” Upon her words, Etta outstretched her hand which grasped his tunic, offering the garment back with a wry smirk of her own. “You must be more diligent in future, your highness, some might mistake you for an ordinary drunk and have you removed from the palace.”

The duchesse took his arm gingerly, a jolt going through her as she lead the prince to a particularly dense part of the palace gardens. In her defense, she’d heard whispers about the Prince of Monaco and his.. escapades. It was only natural for the girl to be curious. “We’ll just have to pray I do not impair you further, my lord.”, she answered, her voice low. 

Luca chuckled, though he knew if god was in the business of saving men from beautiful women he would have intervened long ago on the behalf of the prince. “What a miracle that would be.” Though he dared to wonder if she would truly hope for such an outcome. In his experience some women enjoyed being toyed with, while others -of a more frightening kind- were rather good on the other end of the game. “Are you always so forgiving of the men who pester you milady?”