Noble Imperial Gentleman

She hated it, these pathetic feelings of regret and caring. They were a burden, and yet it was a burden she carried for Theodore.

Glancing up, his eyes dark and his face creased with worry, felt a small smile stretch across his pale lips. Yes, they were still getting married. They would be bound by law as man and wife very soon, and he could feel his heart soar over this.

“Yes, of course. We’re still getting married . . . You’re still mine, whether or not my family agrees with you or not. I love you so much, my darling.”

He moved from the chair he sat on and to her side. Reaching out, his hands cupped her face and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Gothel huffed, shaking her head. She wasn’t sure of what she could possibly do, really. She needed to fix this though. Although the situation felt rather hopeless. 

He gave a short nod of his head as he slumped further into his chair. The day had barely begun, and he all ready felt the ache and burn of a headache. Resting his head against his hand, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Fluttering his eyes, he glanced at her with a small frown.

“Well, life happens.”

Lifting his head from his hand, he continued to look at her with a small, yet worried smile spread onto his face. His hands fell into his lap, and then he spoke in a low tone:

“Maybe if I talk to them and plead for their forgiveness. If I tell them that I am willing to do anything to prove that I’m sorry and that I can indeed make a good wife to you. Or would they be too close minded to respond to that?”

“No.”

His voice was stern, and he glanced firmly at her through half-opened eyes. It was too early to listen to any fight that would start from her daring to even approach them. It was best to leave things as it was. Slowly, he shook his head as he pressed his back against the chair.

“Don’t even bother, Gothel. Just let it go, all right? It’s better this way.”

Licking his lips, he crossed his legs and glanced away from her. Frowning sternly, he looked out of the bedroom window absentmindedly, and then gave a long, tired sigh.

After a moment, Gothel realized she had retaliated and she tried calming down. Taking in a deep breath, she shook her head. 

“I’m not happy, Theodore.” she spoke, her voice lowering to a more calm, quiet tone. “It was never my intention to turn your family against you. Nor was it my intention to turn them against me. I’ve tried so hard to do everything you’ve told me to do. It was never enough for them.” 

Theodore felt his head throb.

He knew she was making sense. He knew that Meta had been the one to cause this. But he also knew that Gothel’s response to it didn’t help in the slightest. He grew silent, casting his eyes down, and looked at the floor for several long, hard moments.

“I know.”

His voice was a whisper.

“I know she did. And I know we had this talk last night, but . . .”

The Grand Duke swallowed the lump in his throat, and reclined in his chair. Turning his gaze to her, he just stared at her with a worried expression. For a long moment, he just looked at her and debated with himself. After what felt like an eternity, he let out a deep sigh and nodded.

“Yes, I can speak.” she huffed, approaching Theodore hesitantly. 

As he droned on about what he had to deal with last night, she could certainly imagine. Besides his parents and Max, Theodore’s family was awful, Gothel thought. A twinge of anger spiked through her as her fiance insisted that she guess. Although guessing wasn’t that hard.

“Oh, that’s easy.” Gothel muttered. “I’m sure they said something along the lines of you marrying a horrible, drunken commoner with no class, am I right?”

“Other than that--which I disagree with--they decided not to show to our future wedding!”

He shook violently, eyes focused on her with intent as he breathed out hard and deep. Theodore paused, placing a hand to his chest to steady his breathing before speaking again:

“Only a handful will be at our wedding now--Mother, Father, my brother, and a few cousins. Meta won’t show, but I guess you’re happy to hear that! And let me tell you the spat I had with her last night! We didn’t stop screaming at each other until the early morning!”

Slapping a hand to the armrest of his chair, he gave a deep cough at once, and forced himself to lower his voice. Exhaling deeply, he turned back up to her and spoke once more:

“Alright, give me a minute.” she muttered, climbing out of bed. She opened her eyes and looked up at Theodore. 

Gothel could hardly believe what had happened last night. Most of it was a blur, although she remembered bits and pieces, and she couldn’t picture herself in the pieces she did remember. 

It was then she remembered Theodore’s anger with her. 

“Good morning, Theodore.” Gothel murmured sweetly as she looked up at him.

Theodore’s pale lips twisted tightly.

“Don’t give me that, Gothel,” he muttered, jabbing a hand towards her. “You don’t even understand just how upset I am at you right now!”

Reaching a hand up, he rubbed his face firmly as a snarl left his throat. Shaking his head, he glanced to the left, and then glanced to the right. Allowing his hand to drop, he glared at her.

“Are you able to speak or are you horribly hungover?”

His voice dripped with rage and as he spoke, his fangs were visible. Shuffling in his spot, he glanced around for a place to sit. Huffing to himself, he stepped away from her to sit in a chair near a small fireplace. Theodore dropped himself into the seat, glaring at her from across the room.

Standing half naked as Theodore rested against her, Gothel inhaled another breath, but this one more steady. 

“I am sorry, Theodore.” she murmured in a whisper.

The witch closed her eyes and leaned against Theodore, wiggling out of her dress. She opened her eyes and placed a hand on the hand that rested against her shoulder. She gently touched it, caressing it with care and sorrow in her touch.

“I was behaving fine before I had too much wine. On the outside, I can deal with it, their torment, I’ve done it before. Even if I’m not fine on the inside, I can wear a mask that fools everyone into believing I’m fine, that I’m strong and better than them. I’ve tolerated worse. But I was so exhausted from such a long time, weeks and weeks of Meta down my throat, I just wanted to drink. I wanted to drink until I was happy, to ease my mind and forget that I cared; I wanted to lose all caring.” Gothel whined. “Next time I will be better. Tomorrow morning we can deal with this when I can actually think rationally, when I’m sober. I believe those two things are all I can promise you right now.” 

“Fine. Fine.”

Pushing away the heavy dress, his hands were drawn to touch warm skin. Warm, naked flesh under his palms--his breath hitched as he glanced down, and noticed that she stood before and against him nude. Blushing, he turned his gaze away, staring at a wall. However, he still listened to her with great intent. His hands moved down, fingertips against her spine and then back up between the blades of her back.

“Keep you away from the drink, I understand.”

Pressing his cheek against her thick hair, he gave a deep sigh from the deep amount of tiredness he felt. Still standing, he held her bare body close as his hands roamed up and down her back. There was a small part of him that wanted to go lower still, but he refrained. She was in a drunken stupor, and should be put to bed.

Pulling away, he cupped her face between both of his hands, and looked at her with a mix of shyness and pleasure. “I forgive you, darling. Just please, please don’t let that happen again. We have to keep our heads on our shoulders now, don’t we? I can’t let something like that happen again.” 

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her full lips. His hand kept her head steady as he tilted his downwards to give her his full attention.

Sighing deeply, she glanced at the floor, staring at it for a moment. She became quiet as he ranted at her, telling her that she couldn’t even try to fix it, that he wouldn’t give her the chance. He literally was furious with her and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing she could do but put on her night dress and shut up.

“I acted like a noblewoman.” she muttered, her head snapping up as she started to glare. Ferocity was in her gaze, her eyes burning with hurt. “At first. I was smiling, I was being polite, friendly, pretty. And then Meta told everyone I was a fraud. That I was only a commoner pretending.”

“And everyone believed her. I kept acting like a noblewoman and nothing could change their judgmental stares. Their disgusted faces. So, I snapped. I gave up. Their minds were already made up, there was no point in trying.” she murmured with hatred as she thought of them. All of them were horrible, she thought. Meta was the worst one of them all. 

He felt his brain throb violently within his skull. This was a terrible night--everything had gone to hell, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Allowing the night to burn within the imaginary flames, he lifted his head up to gaze at her with cold indifference.

“You act as if I don’t understand. I do, Gothel. I understand just fine--they were treating you horribly. I understand, but what you fail to understand is that’s how it is. They don’t like commoners, and I know they wouldn’t like you the moment they found out.”

He allowed his head to drop, and his palm pressed against his cheek. The flesh was unbearably hot, and he had half of a mind to scream and yell at her for causing him this much stress.

“But here’s something you also need to understand: there will be many that will not like you for that, and you better learn how to deal with it. You will be dealing with people who don’t like you daily. I have to, and therefore you do as well. You could have saved yourself from some misery if you continued to behave. In fact, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. I would be chastising them, and telling them how horrible they were, which I will do mind you. You could’ve saved me a headache, Gothel.”

He stood to his feet, shaking his head as he started to undo the lacing to her heavy dress. With quick gestures, he loosened the fabric and pushed it from her body, so that she could wiggle out from it. In a moment of dispair, he placed his hands to her shoulder, and rested his forehead against the back of her head.

Upon being released, she sighed, stretching her arms as she turned around. She walked further into the room before turning to look at Theodore again. 

Theodore gave a scoff. Even if she was to sober up, he wasn’t going to let her go back. Why try to save what was all ready ruined? Frowning sharply at her, he shook his head firmly from side to side.

“I really don’t care who started, I am the one finishing it. And are you even listening to yourself? You sound like a child.”

He stepped away from her, face contorted with a mixture of rage and disgust. Reaching down, he pushed aside the thick bedding that covered her plush mattress, before becoming restless again and moving towards the wardrobe. With rough hands, he took a sleeping dress from a hook, and tossed it onto her bed.

“The night is ruined anyhow. I’m not sure how you could fix it, even if you wanted to.”

Slapping a hand to his face, he breathed out heavily before turning back to her.

But now, Theodore was pulling her down the hall as if she were a child. The way he looked at her, he was obviously very unhappy with her. Despite willingly walking with Theodore, he was still pulling on her arm as he led her down the hallway and towards her room.

“Are you dragging me?” she huffed with an offended tone, glancing up at Theodore’s face.

“No, I’m not dragging you, Gothel. I’m taking you to your bedchambers.”

His voice was low, and his tone was dry. He felt the rage of what a disaster tonight was boil within him, but Gothel was in no condition to deal with. He didn’t want to yell at her as well, seeing it as cruel. He was angry with her, yes, and he did wish to voice that, but now wasn’t the time.

“You’re going to bed. I’m going to help you undress and ready for bed, then I’m going to get you a cup of water, and then you’re sleeping. There is no debating here, Gothel.”

He opened the door to her room, and then released her arm. Theodore then sighed deeply, feeling the dull throb of his brain against his skull. Shaking his head from side to side, he glanced at her.

Perhaps if she had been sober, she might have been able to control her fierce glaring. She couldn’t believe that Theodore had just called her that. 

“And what if I did drink more, hm? What are you going to do? I am stressed, Theodore. Utterly and completely stressed. These last few weeks have been a nightmare for me, so forgive me if I need to drown it all away with some drinks.” the witch hissed. “And this gathering is no less stressful. These people are one step away from stringing me up and torturing me. I bet they’d enjoy that.” 

Gothel huffed, her arms tightly at her sides as she stared up at Theodore. She wasn’t sure of what to say. If not for her many hundred years, her words would be unintelligible, but since she did have the experience, she was able to speak her mind still, not slurring her words, not stumbling over them. 

He rubbed his temples, feeling his flesh throb underneath his fingertips. Theodore didn’t wish to deal with this right now; he wanted this to all be over. His family didn’t quite like her, that he knew, but she wasn’t making it any better. Being drunk wasn’t the greatest idea she had, and her drinking more was out of the question.

Rubbing his cheek, he observed her for a moment, and pondered to himself. Perhaps putting her to bed would be the best choice--get her away from his family, and her away before she did something really stupid.

“I know you’re stressed, my dear. I know--I am too, and you behaving in such a way isn’t helping. How about we get you to bed; get you a glass of water, and call it a night.”

Their engagement party was ruined.

Completely and utterly ruined.

It could have gone just fine if she didn’t behave in the way she did. It could have been decent, perhaps. But now they had seen her in such a drunken state, and now he was certain that some of his family wouldn’t appear at their wedding, and he knew that his parents must have been disappointed in her.

Theodore was disappointed in her.

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her away from the chatter of the ballroom, and down the hall. He was silent, eyed narrowed, and a frown plastered on his pale lips.

“Scars heal. This one will heal. However, what I’ve done to him will never heal. And yet he apologized for what he did, even though he had every single right to do it. And you say you want to keep me safe, but you’re not listening; I am safe. I left on civil terms with him. I begged him not to come here and hurt us, to especially not hurt you, and he has no intention to. I am safe. You are safe. You haven’t failed me, so stop fucking blubbering.”

“Why did you let him!”

His voice cracked, and he felt his eyes water. He didn’t understand--Theodore couldn’t understand this, really. His long fingers twitched, and his eyes focused directly on his fiance. The desire to confront the man that had done this to her still raged within him, but before her, he tried to remain calm as he could.

It failed, however.

His dark eyes narrowed at her, and he could feel wetness peak at the corners still. Lowering his head, the Grand Duke glanced to the floor with a upset expression. Fumbling with his hands, he stepped away from her, and took a seat in his smoking chair.

Gently, his fangs grazed against his lower lip, and he refused to meet her eyes for several long moments. He still didn’t like the fact that he had harmed her in such a way, and the desire to enact revenge upon him still raged within the Duke’s heart.

Glancing to her, his eyes watered still, and he sighed deeply as he cleaned away the salty tears with the back of his hand. He still felt like he had failed her deeply, and it ached within him.