Now, the first time had been rather a shock—to both you and the flutter of attendants who’d happened upon the parchment. You certainly didn’t have any close acquaintances nor prospects entertained whom were so dedicated to deliver a letter at the splinter of daybreak (and a brief interrogation of your personal ladies-in-waiting showed that they’d seen nothing of who’d been slipping you notes at night). 

It had to be someone from the palace, however - if they managed to deliver these letters so frequently and so easily.

Though most nobles sent their correspondences upon dishes of pure silver, with an attendant from their court that would recount every detail of your reaction to them later. But this one had no staff attached to it, no emblem, no name. No identity in the very least.

Nothing but slanted, slightly trembling words as if the writer’s hand had been caught in an inescapable tremor the entire time. And the flower.

Every morning, once you excitedly unfurled the little pink ribbon that tied the letter up, a small yellow daffodil would fall from inside. As if a piece of the early morning sunlight, plucked from the skies, placed in your hands, you’d roll the stem between your fingers as you read through the letter.

Each word more tantalizing than the last.

You’d tried to spend the night awake on several occasions, of course, to catch this romantic culprit in the act. But the only thing that served you was a few hours of sleep, and a thoroughly cranky elocution teacher once you kept nodding off during class - and no admirer, evidently. And yet you’d still awoken to the neatly tied-up parchment in the morning. 

Like a phantom in the night.

The letter was the first sign of daybreak itself.

When that scheme had found itself utterly useless, you’d taken to warning your personal knights stationed outside your royal chamber - certainly not to get your admirer caught, rather to find out just a morsel of information about them. A morsel.

Yuji and Nobara had been rightfully horrified, though you’d insisted that whoever this was meant no harm! 

You suspected that your admirer snuck into your room in the few minutes between the knights changing their stations: Yuji and Nobara would be set firmly outside until midnight, and any dark hours past that would have your doorstep occupied by knights Choso and Yaga. Two of the most trusted knights in all the kingdom, with all the accolades to prove it.

And it certainly helped that Choso had been your personal knight for the past two years - though you’d been friends for far longer than that. Always at your side, always staring down nobles that overstepped, always offering his hand out to you when a step was too steep.

He was your rock. He is.

He’d been one of the court advisor’s sons, your age. You remember being a young royal unaware (or perhaps uncaring) of the duties that loomed for you in the horizon; spending summer mornings playing tag with Choso and a few of the other children in the palace, and winter nights breezing through books and time like sand—just the two of you in that grandiose library. His father resided in a modest estate not too far off from the palace, and Choso cried every time he had to say goodbye to you. Every single day.

You grew the most close with Choso.

And once he had come of age, he’d promptly signed up to become a knight. 

Through training and nutrition plans, and battles and scars, Choso had climbed up the ranks faster than any other you’ve ever seen. Though he was still as tender-hearted as you remembered him - he’d shed a few tears the day he was assigned to a brief battle on the outskirts of the kingdom. Away from you.

But you’d simply wiped away his tears and cooed in a low voice that your elocution lessons hadn’t taught you to—come back to me soon, Cho.

And he had.

The battle with the Zenins had ended, and Choso Kamo had returned as the kingdom’s most celebrated warrior. It’s whispered to this day amongst the palace staff how he’d kicked off his saddle in town, run past all the bubbling celebrations- straight to the royal palace where he’d waded past the congratulating courts and straight to you—

All in platonic friendship, of course.

Of course.

But you suppose it didn’t help quell the rumors when Choso rejected your father, the King’s, offers of estates and riches. Of lifetimes of luxury. He’d stood before the royal court and bowed his head, having only one request of the monarch: to be your personal knight. Forevermore until he breathes.

And how could one say no to the turning point of the battle?

And thus, he’d become your knight. Yours.

You suppose it was around this time that the letters had started, too…

You clutch this morning’s letter to your chest and breathe in the smell of fresh ink, leather, and the faintest hint of summer vanilla that dripped off of the page. It was always this scent that followed your admirer’s ardent declarations, and soon enough every time you passed the gardens or poked at a vanilla dessert, you couldn’t help but think of him. 

A knock interrupts your thoughts and you startle.

Pushing the letter carefully underneath your pillow, “Come in.”

The towering double doors of your bedroom had small gilded swirls on it, which, if you stepped back, melded together to form an image that looked like the clouds above. Frothing and tumbling and swirling. Heaven itself. How oddly poetic that through these gates of heaven would walk in Choso Kamo, his knight’s armor catching the rays of morning sunlight.

His visor was pushed up to reveal his face.

His features were sharp and handsome.

His doe-like brown eyes were the envy of the courts.

He looks at you in your thin nightgown and flushes- “Y-your Highness—!”

Choso’s armor clanks and clutters as he hurries to turn away from you, and soon enough you find yourself staring at the knight’s broad back. Chiselled after so many years of training. Bringing a hand up to your lips you have to stifle a giggle at the sheer contrast- “My dearest knight, does it disgust you to gaze upon me like so?”

“Th-the furthest thing from it, Your Highness.” He sputters, and you swear you catch the back of his neck - just the slightest slit you could see between his armor plates - burning bright red. Blushing.

“Do you believe me of unsound character, then?” You challenge, “Do you believe me a harl-”

“Bear not the thought!”

“Then turn.”

He does—barely. Just enough degrees that you can see his handsome side profile, and he can stare at you through his peripheral vision- though that, too, is largely obscured by his helmet. “Forgive me…” Choso gulps. “-but the mere sight of you is not suited to be gazed upon by this lowly knight, my princess.”

“You have been within ames-ace of Yaga for far too long.” You tut.

But you’re still reaching for the gold-laced robe draped over the edge of your bed - your attendants had placed it there last night. Choso was always the first to greet you in the morning.

And it’s only once he’s completely sure that the robe now covered the beautiful angles and curves of your body, that is obscured from him what is Eve’s most beautiful apple, does he turn to face you. Only to find that he had spent so long mustering up the courage, that you’d already dipped underneath your pillow and pulled out-

“Yet another letter, Your Highness?” Choso queries, and you nod. 

It was requisite that such an occurrence must be shared with your personal knight - most of all, your friend. And you didn’t feel the need to hide it from Choso as you did with your parents—perhaps because you knew his duty was to you, above all. You above the crown. “Oh, you shan’t believe it- today they wrote the most romantic line about how their heart beats simply to count their time beside me—”

Choso gives a jerky nod, “And the flower?”

“As always.” You’re pinching the little flower where it had been laid safely on top of your decadent pillow, showing it to him.

Your best friend takes one look at it and breaks out into an almost…relieved smile. “I see- he really is a stubborn old fool, isn’t he?”

“Oh, don’t call him a fool.” You huff. Turning away with your flower, “I think he’s just lovely.”

“Suppose he is a fool?” Choso probes, “Suppose he isn’t of great wits- would you still think he’s lovely?”

You furrow your brows at him, “But, of course. Intelligence cannot be measured by how many dusty books you read. Despite that, I believe that one would be of rather sound wits should they wish to compose letters this beautiful.”

There’s a pause. “Then suppose he isn’t rather pleasant to look at?”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” You counter stubbornly. “I think that I should find them quite beautiful either way.”

“Then suppose he’s a commoner?”

“That is the last thing I would fuss about-”

“But what if he’s a…” Choso starts- and as you wait for him to finish—he shakes his head. Giving you a light bow, “I apologize for getting carried by the conversation, Your Highness. I have just been reminded of my orders to urge you into prompt preparation to receive some very special guests today. I have summoned your ladies-in-waiting, they are stationed at the third royal baths.”

“Guests?” You ask. The palace always did have a constant flow of royals and nobles and merchants and people of the public going in and out, and rarely did you have to make a personal accompaniment with them. “What special guests may we—”

It’s then that you look at your calendar of quarter days: social days and tutoring days, and a day circled in rouge.

Today.

“Ah…”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader, 

Royal gossip has always been the lifeblood of the Ton—particularly this year, with the debut of our Royal Highness, the princess, this social season. Rumors have been a-swirling for quite some time now, speculation about just which eligible gentleman will be lucky enough to win over the beautiful royal’s hand in marriage: perhaps a fair noble, perhaps the richest merchant of the land, perhaps a prince from a far-away land. The possibilities are endless!

Our dignified royal family has always been rather private about such matters regarding their princess, but today this humble writer is here to put these whispers to rest, my dear reader.

My most trust-worthy sources inform me of a royal fleet that has docked in our harbor early in the morrow—a fleet with none other than the Zenin family insignia upon its flag!

Now, before you fear another military skirmish with the ever-ruthless Zenin family, gentle reader, let me assure you that my insiders state this royal visitation to not be an act of warfare. Rather…of romance.

Some claim an age-long betrothal, some claim a political marriage in the works.

The cauldron of curiosity bubbles even further once you learn that the Zenin family, including His Highness Naoya Zenin, shall be paying a royal visit to the palace today! And some members of the royal knights claim they shall take extra precaution, and that Her Highness’s personal guard - a handsome young knight by the name of Choso Kamo - is to be with her at all times. Ooo la la!

It will certainly make it difficult for either Prince Naoya nor any other…admirer to get close to the princess (the palace walls talk, gentle reader, and some of my sources claim the presence of a second interest in Her Highness’s life—secret letters being hand-delivered every single night!) 

But that is neither here nor there, and your writer is certainly not planning a visit to the royal dungeons in the near future!

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

.

.

.

“—such a beautiful garden-” Naoya’s lip curls as he looks out of the tall, sun-lit window at the rolling field below. Your parents barely have enough time to open their mouths in response before he continues, “-but of course, ours is much larger. Second only to our stables and the incredible militia grounds that we have-”

Everyone in the meeting hall closes their mouth, quenches their hope for speaking at least for the next twenty-five minutes.

You learn within the first few moments of meeting him that Naoya Zenin liked hearing his own voice, and any time he wasn’t, he was replaying his own voice over and over inside his head. You also learn that you don’t like him in the slightest.

Which makes being betrothed to him all the more difficult.

It had been a political alliance- or so your father had briefed you one night several months ago. Calling you into his office, holding your hand, he had let you cry on his shoulder for the first time in years that night.

To unite two people who had been locked in a bloody border war for far too long - that was your duty.

And this marriage was the key.

It had been long enough to let the finality of it sink in, and not nearly as long enough for it not to sting. Still. It hurt like a hot iron embedded in your heart once you had to curtsey for the prince. 

He had barely bowed back.

And now the two royal families - as well as several esteemed members of your council - were spread out in the grand meeting hall. Watching as the blond-haired royal turned his nose up at the plate of intricate desserts offered to him by a male attendant—he flicks his hand at the boy and orders the woman standing beside him to do it.

The woman being no one else but the most talented healer in all the land. 

Shoko Ieri looks ready to stab him with her scalpel.

“Compensating.” A low whisper sounds from behind you.

You don’t have to turn to know that it’s Choso- but you do anyway. And your heart flutters just a little as you spy his warm brown eyes through the gaps of his visor, “Pardon?”

He repeats, “Compensating.” Nodding towards Naoya who had now roped your mother into a spiel about his armory.

“—we boast the largest swords in the entire world, you see.” Naoya was bragging in his grating tone, and your poor mother could only nod. “The best- the biggest. Any old cod can claim that size doesn’t matter and yet our biggest swords are-”

You can’t help it - you catch Choso’s eye and you both have to force yourselves from bursting into a fit of chuckles.

Both turning into each other.

Your hand clutching Choso’s arm for support.

Choso’s gentle hum of laughter breezing the top of your head.

Only too late do you realize that everyone in the room had their eyes turned to you - each in varying degrees of horror at the proximity between a princess and her knight. Except for Shoko who had gone from glowering at the prince to looking somewhat…knowing.

Damn you, Shoko—you’re half-heartedly cursing her out in your head as you straighten up. Trying not to flinch as Choso follows and takes a step backwards to stand behind you.

As a knight is told to be.

You can’t see the expression on Choso’s face nor his demeanour, but what you do know is the familiar creaking of metal as your best friend sags in on himself. Almost shielding himself from the world underneath all that armor. 

Perhaps from it.

You notice that he always did so whenever someone in court made his place known: whenever they flickered their eyes between the two of you, whenever they pushed their noble sons to greet you, whenever they questioned just why a knight was allowed to even look at the princess like so.

He took it all to heart. Crumpled it up inside, and in doing so he crumpled that beating thing as well.

You wanted to say something—but you knew you couldn’t.

And, of course, it’s Naoya who speaks first. “Hmm, once we are wed then I shall have to make sure that such a thing is not repeated.”

“There is no such thing to speak of.” You speak through a grit smile.

“So you say—” He takes a bite of a puff pastry and places it back on the golden plating, “-but as your husband, it is I who shall have the final say.”

Yell strangled in your throat, you take a step forward-

Only for your father to sense the growing tension and ease his way in, “So is that to say a royal wedding might be on the horizon?”

Naoya takes his sweet time answering, “Well…” Looking straight at you as he contemplates, he wipes off a bit of leftover vanilla cream from the edge of his lip and flicks it. “That is what I’m saying, Your Majesty.”

Your father claps his hands heartily, “Send for the wedding preparations right away—! Oh, and draft the announcement for the-”

But you don’t hear a single word.

It feels numb.

It feels like something’s buzzing inside of your head.

You’re unsteady on your feet until a cold metallic hand reaches out and clasps hold of you.

You know it’s Choso and you do not let go.

.

.

.

Your heart aches at the letter you receive on the morning afterwards: the morning of the official announcement.

“My dearest princess, cry not.

Cry not—for a single drop of your tears is worth more than all the raindrops in heaven, all the rays of sunlight kissing the Earth, and all the beats of my heart. 

It has been running rattle-brained, foolishly wild, these past few hours as I stagger upon the thought that I may lose you. Not that this lowly admirer had you in the first place, my dearest princess, you must forgive me for my presumption. But in every little way in which you are mine, I gain to lose you still.

Cry not for a man that should not cry for you, my dearest princess. Cry not for a man that cries for you still.

And I…above all I am a selfish man. I am a selfish man—utterly selfish—and should all the world’s laws be up to me, then you and I, should you wish it, would have been married four summers past.

Alas, I am overruled.”

You’re dressed for the public.

And once you’re escorted to the royal balcony where all palace announcements are conducted, you look up from the ground just in time to see Yuji catch Choso’s eye. The long-haired man behind you shakes his head.

Though you’re not quite sure what it means, it somehow makes you feel all the more worse.

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader, 

Though it is not in good manners for a lady to gasconade, allow this writer here to tell you that I had proclaimed so—a royal wedding is forthcoming!

You have read that right, dear reader!

Don your best silks and gather your best florals, for soon her Royal Highness, the princess, shall be wed to Prince Naoya Zenin. According to what was proclaimed at the most recent palace announcement, a grand wedding is to take place in a week’s time, immediate after the Royal Diamond Ball, to celebrate the union. Though experts speculate that this marriage is likely of political origins rather than the heart-fluttering romance that some think, one thing is for certan—His Highness, Naoya Zenin, certainly seemed to take the affair in stride.

Witnesses to the official announcement claim that the prince simply couldn’t keep the smile off of his face at the thought of his beautiful new bride (though others claim that it’s due to his imminent rise to the throne thereafter, as he isn’t the first heir to the Zenin Family—however, you didn’t hear that from me, dear reader!)

Others at the site were more entranced by none other than the princess’s trusty personal knight - Choso Kamo was expectedly standing guard beside Her Highness. But what caught the attention of eagle-eyed onlookers was rather the…expression upon his handsome face.

You could not pay me to name a more heart-broken man, dear reader! You could not!

Perhaps this is an omen of how the wedding preparations are being handled behind the curtains? Perhaps this is an omen of…something more?

This writer has a personal inkling about the reasons as to why knight Choso might have looked at Her Highness with nothing less than sorrow (did somebody say tears in his eyes?) 

And amongst this roulette of wishful men I know you’re asking me—but Lady Whistledown, what of the princess’s secret admirer? 

Well—you’ll be happy to know that I come with reliable insight that the secret delivery of love letters has yet to cease! Yes, gentle reader, this particular admirer seems quite passionate in their affections. Even going so far as to send one just after the announcement. Should the letters have yet to halt now, one can only imagine whether they shall stop even after the royal wedding.

The prince. The admirer. The knight (perhaps?) How can one choose?!

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

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.

.

“Big brother-”

“No-”

“Big brother, I simply state that-”

“Quiet, Yuji.” 

Choso’s tone comes out harder than he’d intended, and his chest clenches at the wounded look in the younger boy’s eyes. Without wasting a single second, and without looking to see if anyone was nearby, he’s lunging forwards and embracing the boy into his arms.

Holding him just as he had when they were children and the pink-haired one would fall and bruise himself- though the only one that feels bruised right now is Choso.

It had been a week since the wedding announcement.

And all preparations had been in full swing: enough so that between all the dress-fittings, and the flower-pickings, and the guest-greetings, Choso hadn’t even had the time to exchange a proper conversation with you. Not that he was in the place to - especially not anymore.

Tonight was the Royal Diamond Ball of the season, where one Diamond shall be picked, always taking place inside the palace.

Except, this time, it had doubled in both extravagance and guest-list due to the simple fact that tonight was also the grand ball before your wedding. Tomorrow morning you would walk down the aisle in a dress of white.

Tomorrow morning you will be another’s wife.

He hugs his younger brother tight, “Yuji, I apologize for my brash words-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Yuji finally breaks the hug, “I was simply careless with my own words.”

“You were not-”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t be happy- why both of you can’t be happy. Together.” He looks away, eyes filling with tears he knows wouldn’t encompass even the tiniest fraction of what his brother has shed over this very reason. “It’s just not fair.”

“Some things…some things are meant to be the way they are.” Choso stares ahead at the gilded hallway spread out before him, “We must simply persist.”

Yuji looks as though he wants to say something more- but at that very moment, the doors to your royal chamber are opening. The two knights had been stationed there until you were fussed-over and all dolled-up for the Royal Diamond Ball tonight - the last as an unwed princess. The last before you were bound to Naoya Zenin.

And looking at you now, Choso thinks that it would’ve been worth it to cut down the wedding and all its procession for you.

Because there wasn’t a word to describe you.

The soft champagne of the taffeta draped over your shoulders and puffed up fashionably at your arms, cascading down in a waterfall of expensive silks up to your ankles. Following were glistening pearls that only brought out the beauty of the dress - your beauty - wrung at the edges of your hem and necklines. Delicate bracelets where your hands were gloved. A singular diamond hanging from your neck. And of course—your tiara.

It weighed heavily on your head.

Your ladies-in-waiting had dabbed on a bit of glittering rouge on your lips.

It was all that Choso could stare at.

You weren’t just bound to be the Diamond of the season, you were a diamond from the night sky. And he’s still trying to find a word to describe you that he knows wouldn’t come close, not even in a hundred of his l—

“Choso?” You cock your head gently at him. Trying not to bite down on your lower lip in nervousness and smear your attendants’ hard work, “Is something the matter-”

“Enchanting.” He blurts out- but that wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.

You look at him with slightly widened eyes, and he wouldn’t take the word back anyway. He looks at you and says in a more firm tone, “You look enchanting, my princess.”

You try - and fail - to bite back a smile—and ultimately end up swatting him on his armored chest. “Enchanting? Do not think that flattery shall stop me from forcing you into a dance tonight.”

“Ah—foiled again!” He dramatically looks to the skies.

“Fool.” You joking strike him again - Choso had dressed up for the occasion as well. His armor had been polished until it shined like a mirror, reflecting your own two ogling eyes back at you. Even the hilt of his blade looked deathly sharp.

He’d pushed his visor up and that gave you a glimpse of those two doe-like eyes, chestnut brown and warm. He was staring at you in a way that made you squirm.

Though Lady Whistledown’s society papers tended to use pretty prose, what they hadn’t lied about was this. Just how handsome he was.

“P-perhaps we ought to make our entrance.” You say.

And he nods in understanding, “We ought to—” But, what Choso realizes, is that he doesn’t understand at all.

And his breath hitches as you clutch onto his right arm with both hands. Attaching yourself against his side- how he wished he could feel the warmth of your body through his armor-

“These shoes are far too tall.” You fail to meet his eyes, “Forgive me, but if I could use a bit of support until-”

“Anything you want, my princess.” He breathes.

Your actual entrance into the grand ball is a blur - you’ve attended far too many of these in far too short a time before. It’s the crunch of velvet carpet underneath your too-tall shoes, and the strangely burning sensation of all eyes being directed at you. 

At the way you were still holding onto Choso.

You distance yourself from him silently, and he falls in step behind you. The master of ceremonies announces your name even though everyone here already knows it. The staircase is never-ending and unrelenting, each step louder than the thundering of your heartbeat, a staccato of what feels like your own unravelling.

You’re slightly off-kilter as you reach the end- before a hand shoots out to help you.

You grasp onto the man’s calloused hand gratefully, looking up to realize that it was Yaga. 

“Watch your step, Your Highness.” He helps you stand and wade through the crowd. As the head knight, Yaga had the freedom to forgo the armor tonight. It was a strong navy blue, nearly the entire chest of it covered in numerous medals and colors - warning off keen-eyed nobles from nearing. 

You catch sight of Naoya surrounded by ladies-in-wait by the feast-

Yaga’s voice breaks through, “What is it that’s on your mind, Your Highness?”

“Nothing.” You answer instantly, “It’s just- it must be pre-wedding jitters.”

“I see…” He looks at you intensely, and you feel as though he can see right through you. Know right through what you’re really feeling. “Then in that case, all is well, correct?”

“Correct.”

He almost smiles, “And you are ready to be wed to His Highness Naoya, correct?”

“C-correct.”

“And you shall be thinking of a certain knight- or a certain admirer on the altar, correct?”

“Correct-” You falter, “Excuse me?”

“Ah—it seems the orchestra is commencing.” Yaga looks into the distance where the violin players had started easing in soft trills, as if music itself had waited for your arrival. “Now, my back is certainly too weathered for such dances- but I shall hold you with me no longer, Your Highness.” He turns to you and gives you a gentle smile, “Go—have your first dance.”

You almost plead, “But with who?” Naoya was still…occupied with all the court ladies- not that you would ever in a million years want to dance with Naoya Zenin in the first place-

“Whoever your heart may desire.” Yaga interrupts your thoughts, letting go of your hand- though not before pressing in something delicate and flat into it. He looks somewhere behind you—“A letter, asked of me to hand to you. I only implore that you stay as true to your heart, as he is to you.”

As Yaga disappears into the crowd starting to twirl in their tulle skirts—you open that little piece of paper up.

A short message.

“My dearest princess,

Steps behind you, a vision I do not deserve to see. 

The most enchanting girl in the world to me.”

Enchanting.

The paper nearly falls out of your hand, and you can only look behind you - to where Choso Kamo was refusing to meet your eyes. His metallic visor was down and you couldn’t help but step closer.

Uncaring what they say as you’re reaching out and fastening it upwards- “Is this your penmanship, my dearest knight?”

He does not answer.

“Do you think I look enchanting, my dearest knight?”

He does not answer.

“Does your heart beat solely for me, my dearest knight?”

He does not answer.

“Do you not wish for me to be married—” At that, he flinches like a wounded animal. And you already know that he most certainly won’t be answering that question. Which is why you’re answering instead, “For I feel much the same towards you.”

He snaps his head up, glittering brown eyes pleading down at you. He breathes…“Of which sentiment?”

You smile, “All of it.”

“A-and the marriage-” Choso takes a jerky step towards you, his armor creaking like the weight of dungeon chains. “The alliance-”

“May I have this first dance?” You simply reach your hand out.

And as the music crescendos, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your head. Letting you lead into a golden floor.

Gasps deafen the ballroom music.

.

.

.

The Ton was a-flutter and a-ripe with scandal as you spent your first dance at the Royal Diamond ball with your knight instead of your betrothed. At least, that’s what you imagine - the truth is that you’d been too entranced with Choso Kamo to even pay attention.

He’d held you gently - so gently - as though his large hands could break you at any given moment. 

And Choso had never let his eyes stray from your figure as he twirled you around the ballroom. He would have cared about the whispered- he should have…but how could he when he had the most enchanting girl in the world in his arms?

Too soon- your dance was cut short by an arm on Choso’s shoulder. Stopping him.

You’d both turned to face Naoya Zenin, furious spit lining the edges of his lips. He had barked out a formal order for the knight to step aside and hand him your dance- and though Choso’s hand had gone to his sword…

You’d shaken your head at him.

It was a half-dance with Naoya (of which you’d excused yourself feigning networking duties) and a hastened walk to the edge of the ballroom. Right where Choso Kamo was attempting to blend into the gilded ballroom.

You’d nodded discreetly at him and he already knew—

With Yaga suddenly causing a commotion- accidentally spilling his red wine on Lady Mei Mei’s dress, no one had noticed the two of you slipping out after the second dance. Before the Diamond was announced.

He followed you silently, two steps behind as a knight should, all the way up to your royal bedroom.

It was only once you’d reached your towering double doors that you took Choso by hand- all but dragging the handsome knight inside. And though he’d squawked in surprise, you’d merely looked at your best friend with determined eyes.

“Take me, Choso.”

He gasps. His shudders.

He was going to ruin the princess.

CLANK!

CLANK!

CLANK!

CLANK!

Choso’s heavy armor fell to the ground—

CLANK!

The last of it before the knight scoops his strong arms underneath your legs and hoists you up into that princess carry you’ve read about in every fairy tale. Choso walks you gently over to the expansive bed, before setting you down and laying you all flat—

“Why’re you by the foot of the bed, Cho?” You’re huffing down at the man who was now pressed against the mahogany bedframe. He had his knees down on the soft carpet, kneeled at your feet. Grabbing onto one of Choso’s toned arms - still in a gauzy white poet’s shirt that had been worn underneath his armor - you attempt futilely to pull him upwards. “Come lay with me.”

Looking away with a blush. “Why…have you really not the faintest idea, my dearest princess?” Hearing those words from his mouth sends shivers down your spine. 

He looks at you with dark, half-lidded eyes. Hands spreading your thighs apart and sliding down the sides of your legs. Beneath those customary layers of silk. Choso’s hands keep roaming, and there’s a sudden rush of heat pulsing down to your core once you register his fingertips scraping the edge of your undergarments. 

Mouth falling slightly agape.

“I-It’s only customary to give the lady a kiss before the dance—”

You’re gasping as your brain registers the innuendo- but not before Choso dips his mouth down and gives your cunt a looooong kiss through your sodden panties. Open-mouthed and hot.

He draaaaags the tip of his tongue down your slit n’ tastes you for the first time. Letting a single droplet of your syrupy slick end up splashin’ on his tongue- and he fucking moans. Loud.

Just so husky and attractive that it makes your body buck up into him without even realizing.

And it’s all that Choso needs to let go of his inhibitions. It’s all that he needs to hold both your wrangling thighs down and press himself even deeper against your aroused cunt. Nose-deep. Chest heaving in such guttural puffs.

It’s as if the knight didn’t even need to breathe as long as he could reach deeper against your sopping slit. So wet that he’s feeling your puffy pussylips through the fabric of your underwear- he slashes his tongue between your folds and makes you rut-

“Wh-what is this feeling…ngh.” Unable to help but pipe up in a shrill tone, you struggle to keep your hand pressed against your noisy mouth.

And he doesn’t even answer.

He can’t.

He’s lurching his mouth back and forth at a frenzied pace—crazed. Licking his tongue all over the inches of your cunt he could reach, rubbin’ his ridged tastebuds up and down the swollen outer part of your pussy. 

You were just so damn soaked that it almost felt as if there was no barrier between your pussy and his ravenous mouth at all. Gaping even wider open and heavily kissing your pussy, he was almost thrusting his face against your sensitive cunt-

“Choso-” You gasp, your breaths all dampened. Hands weaving through his long brown hair for dear life. “Choso oh heavens—”

It was just too enchanting how your voice broke on the very last syllable of your sentence. And Choso can’t deny that it makes something carnal deep inside him twitch- “My dearest princess.”

“O-oh…” And you certainly didn’t expect his murmuring tone to send vibrations running up your spine like that.

Breathy. “Is that good, my dearest princess?” Choso’s mouth waters at the way his words only seem to make you splosh out in even more slick—gushing. It trickles greedily down either side of his mouth like two slick rivulates. And you can’t help but snap your head down and think that he looked utterly drunk - gaze half-lidded, lips puffy and red, forehead beading with sweat from his movements. Kissing. “My dearest princess.” Heaving. “My dearest princess.”

“P—please—” You’re trilling out, your head falling into the pillows behind you. “Choso, heavens, I beg of you to c-catch your breath-”

“And yet does it feel good, princess?”

That broken lil’ sentence of his punctuated by the most sloppy slash between your pussylips- smearin’ them apart and accurately pinpointing your clit. With the flexible tip of his tongue he presses inwards against that soft spot and makes you see stars.

Sends your hips rutting furiously against his pretty face, and your moans roaring. “Damn—fuck.” His cock throbs at the way he’d made such a poised, perfect princess break her demeanor. Swear- shit, he really was ruining you. “Fuck, yes- mmm, it feels so good.”

“Feels so good…what?” He’s rasping out.

And you have to blink through your film of tears down at him- “What?” He was now creating a rhythmic mwah of his lips down upon your clit - just lick upon lingering liiiiiick to drive you absolutely wild. 

“It feels so good—” He’s groaning out straight into your cunt, already knowing that you’d be left all tender with his voice And just then you feel two pointed canines snag against your throbbing nub and almost…bite. “-who?”

“Choso—” So that was what he wanted all along? To have you hiccup and squeal his name as he draaaagged his lips from corner to corner of your leaky crevice and lapped up every ounce you gave? To have you absolutely shattered- “Choso-”

“Yeeees?” Alternating between snagging his honed canines down your clit n’ suckling on it.

Like his most favorite candy from the feast downstairs- and yet, you’d be the sweetest dessert out of them all. He was making out with your pussy just like it, too. “Choso- fuck, Choso I didn’t have the daftest idea that you could ever—mmm, it just feels too good.”

“Feels good?” He’s gutturally gasping, teeth scraping through your panties and creating little tears. Wrapping his pink lips ‘round your clit and hollowing his cheeks out of sheer force- “This feels good?”

“Yes-”

Nibblin’ his pearly whites down on your undergarments and tearing it down your slit. Swipin’ his tongue back and forth- “This feels—good-”

“Yes.” You gurgle out. It’s more and more. 

It’s just the pinkish tip of his tongue that was proddin’ at your bundle of nerves. He slips it into a tiny hole town through your silken undergarments- and it’s enough to make your hips cleanly arch off the mattress. “Ch-Chosoooo—” 

Choso’s darkened eyes flap wider open- “Suppose that feels even better, my dearest princess?”

And all he really wanted to do was make you numb with pleasure.

All he really wanted to do was slobber his mouth across that sweetened cunt of yours until he couldn’t even breathe- he’d be satisfied by the fact.

And Choso isn’t even thinking twice before he’s weighing down on one of the tears in your panties - something that he’d done with his very own mouth. Now his crowned fingertips were pushing against the delicate fabric and making it rip-rip-riiiiiiiiiip—!

Not even all the way through.

Just enough for two of Choso’s rightly thick fingers to seep through your undergarments and kiss your hole dead-on.

You flinch as he’s spreading your entrance with the most lecherous slurp! The knobbled ends of his digits pushing aside both your pussylips and simply aiming for that cutely leaking hole- how in heavens were you this wet? This tantalizing?

Tasty.

Choso reaches his slick-gazed fingers out of your cunt and raises it up to his vision - glimmering in the pale moonlight with all your candied liquids - he doesn’t hesitate before plopping them straight into his mouth. His eyes roll to the back of his skull and Choso moans as he tastes you- 

“S-shoooo good—” 

Fuck, was he slurring his words?

You’re raising up onto your elbows to question him, “Choso, did you just-”

But Choso doesn’t seem to hear- Choso doesn’t even seem to have anything running through his mind right now except for you and your pretty pussy. You and your pretty pussy.

You and your pretty pussy that gapes just as he pumps a few inches of his fingers inside - cunt getting glossed in your clingy slick once he squeezes his way inside. He’s feeling for the way your sopping wet walls glue to him like adhesive- stopping him briefly in his tracks before Choso’s stickin’ a thumb on top of your clit and making you take him.

“C’mon-” He hisses between clenched canines, brows furrowing down in concentration. “C’mon c’mon—it feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

“It does-” Hiccuping - trying and failing to buck your hips up for more. But the only thing you’re doing is succeeding in having Choso slip a hand up to grab your waist, pinning your body down to the squeaky mattress with such ease.

Your knight’s keeping your body on a damn leash while he fucks out a slooooow and sensual tempo between your legs. Just the fatness of each finger roverin’ deeper spots inside your walls, you swear you can feel out every single stretch. “Easy there, princess.” He knew his princess’s body better, it seems. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It does but—fuck.” And just then Choso’s hooking his fingers in an incredible way that leaves your legs weak. Plumply pushing against one bunch of your nerves and sending shockwaves up to your brain. “Fuck, I want more, Choso.”

“Patience, Your Highness.” Choso spits out- literally. A dangling ribbon of saliva that clings onto your pussylips n’ makes it easier for the first inch or two of his digits to slip inside.

“But Choso—”

“Patience.” He hums, low vibrations. The space between your legs lets out the most lecherous loud squelches as he’s probin’ in and out. Watching as your swollen pussylips stretch out aaaaaaaall wide open- 

He curls his lengthy digits against the velvety roof of your cunt. Making you just twitch, he’s grinning his slick-lipped grin. “I know you’re all needy right now, princess. But you need to learn to take it loooong and slow—” Emphasizing it by dragging his puffy digits along your walls and scissoring them multiple times. “-like that, see? That feels good, hm?”

“It does, but…” You pout.

Choso’s long lashes quiver, eyes widening slightly. “But?” Slightly crazed.

“But I want- hck!” Further pushing your slobberin’ cunt against his features, you’re dragging your most sensitive bits along his faces and shivering as it grazes his prominent nose. Desperately yowling, “But I want more-”

“Then command it.”

You snap your eyes open, “P-pardon?”

“Then command it.” But it still doesn’t sound real in your ears- ringing with pressure from his fingers slipping in and out. Hitting almost every spot you wanted him to—almost. He latches his mouth ‘round your clit once more and- he doesn’t suck. No.

Choso’s sinking his teeth into that perfect lil’ nub and draaaaagging it right out a centimeter or two until you scream. Fluttering his pretty lashes, “Aren’t you the princess, my dear?” Barely even waiting for your answer before your cunt squelches with a third one of his fingers- “Aren’t I your knight? Go on—command me.”

“P-please-” And Choso gnaws his teeth down even more meanly to stop you from using your royal manners. Until all you can do is bend your spine into the perfect curvature and puuush- grabbing onto his sweaty locks with absolutely no mercy. “Choso, I order you to go harder.”

His cock has never been harder. 

He’s not even giving you a warning before thwacking! a strike with three globular fingertips, all the way at the very gooey bottom of your pussy. Rasping. “Harder?”

“Faster.” You barely gasp. “Choso, I-I order you-”

“Faster?” As if the only thing he can do when he’s so focused on fucking your pussy in harsh, thumpin’ hammers is that mantra of your words. “What else? What else, my liege?”

“Leige…” Bouncing your hips up, up, up—you might be too gone on his perfectly girthy fingers to realize the way you were swervin’ your waist to and fro. Just letting his lengthy fingers navigate the slick maze inside of you, plump fingertips spearheading inside like a spotlight and curving against every spot. 

But Choso notices.

Of course, he notices.

He’s noticed every single thing about you, silent and stoic at your footsteps, for years. Always looking. Always admiring from afar—and he knows when you want something. “What else do you wish for, my princess? What else makes your pussy- hngh, feel good?” 

“I want you to h-hit that one spot-” You’re blubbering through your constant tears. Moving your hips just to the side so that his curvaceous fingers were nearing where you wanted him the most. “So close—oh.”

“Never tell me to do anything twice, Your Highness.” He mutters, tone shot. “I’m always at your service.”

And he was.

And he was shovin’ his fingers - almost thickened with how long they’d been inside you - straight against that bundle of your nerves. Against that crevice you’d heard dubbed as your g-spot from that scandalous literature hidden away at the back of the library…

And when Choso had found that particular spot, he was hitting it like a madman—

Once. Twice. Thrice.

The way he’d memorized just where it was and mapped out every single inch of space inside you was dizzying. The way he’d leave a few sultry split-seconds to twirl his bulbous fingertips against your g-spot before reeling back and thud-thud-thudding. “It feels good, right?”

He was back to that familiar mantra and it was sending zaps of power down your spine to realize just how breathy he sounded. Just how smoky. Just how shattered.

Choso was eating you out like he was going crazy with every lick up your weepin’ pussy crevice. Uuuuup and down and fightin’ against his very own fingers to stick the edge of his tongue inside your quivering hole. “It feels so-” You’re gripping onto the strands of his hair stupidly, “So good-” Tears freely flowing down your cheek with just how many times he was mercilessly forcing his way against your sweetest spots. Your most favorite. “So good- so good- sooo good—”

You smack your hips up in a sloppy drag down Choso’s face and he moans. 

“Choso, you’re just the best—”

And that? Those particular words are just about enough to make his red-hot, achingly hard erection pulse once. Twice.

Beading out a silky trickle of cum that darkens his thick pants.

Before he’s frankly quite sure that he might be on the verge of cumming- and such a valiant knight could never cum before his lovely princess, now, could he? Not daring to be so selfish, Choso heightens the pleasure and pressure until his tongue looked like nothing but a strawberry-pink blur lickin’ into every nook and cranny of yours. Slap-slap-slapping down on your clit.

And his fingers were fucking into you so hard- so ruthlessly. Viciously banging your g-spot like a constant bullseye and Choso was an expert at archery. Didn’t you know?

He doesn’t slow down - doesn’t dare to - even once your drenched walls start convulsing around him in a staccato. Even once you open your mouth in a soundless scream.

Even once you start to cum—

And Choso had never smiled wider in his entire life than he does right now with his lips glued to your pussy. Salivating. Tongue strokin’ your clit through every peak of your high- “C-cumming, Choso.” You pant out tearily. “And I can’t seem to stop…”

“You don’t have to.” Right on cue he bangs a roughened thrust just against your g-spot. Leaving you throbbing and aching for more.

And everything ‘more’ that you want - Choso’s more than happy to give.

Your loyal knight elongating your wave of bliss with his slick fingers. The perfect amount of thickness to stretch your walls but also leave you keening at his rapid pace- he pinpoints each tender point of your orgasm and thrashes against your nerves right at that exact moment.

Again.

And again and again.

And again—until your high makes you see white-hot stars behind your closed eyelids. Planting sloppy drags down his face right in synchronization, “Any longer and I don’t believe I shall cum any more, Choso.”

“As long as it feels goooood, princess.” He gurgles out, “Heh, so good that your body can’t cum anymore.”

“I-I don’t believe it works like- fuck.” Lips soiled with tears and saliva. Glazed. Doesn’t matter how much you’re running your voicebox ragged, because Choso doesn’t even slow down- not even when he’s fucked you through your orgasm and letting it taper out into mere tingles.

Shots of power. Vulgar strokes barely even starting to falter as you begin to feel so utterly raw n’ overstimulated. “But Choso, I want…”

“Hmmmm?”

He sounds so gone on your pussy that you know merely asking nicely won’t make Choso latch off. Experimentally, you’re tugging on his sweat-drenched bangs and he doesn’t even budge-

“Choso Kamo.” You’re starting out, struggling to keep your voice steady. And yet at the tone of your voice, Choso flinches as though he already knows- “As your princess, I order you to just fuck me already.”

He takes a few seconds to detach from your pussy.

Pulling away his sticky slick-glazed lips with a superior squeeelch! And Choso stares up at you with dark, half-lidded eyes. “As you wish, Your Highness.” 

His ruined voice sends shivers across every inch of your body.

A body that he’s now plastering his hands onto and all but tearing through your soft layers- like butter underneath his strong hands. He’s ripping your silken gown straight through the middle, “I shall summon the tailor first thing tomorrow morning.” Choso grunts, already reading that expression on your face. “Worry not- your next dress shall be white, my princess.”

“Wh-white…” You breathe out, feeling light-headed at the implication.

Before you know it, all Choso has unhooked your half-corset and left you all exposed for him. For him to ravenously sweep his eyes down. For him to gaze upon every inch of you and gulp- was his mouth watering just at the sight of you naked?

But you’re not left too long to ponder upon the thought before Choso starts shrugging off his gauzy shirt and trousers. He’s letting the buttons pop open—pop! pop! pop! And displaying such a firm chest chiselled with prominent pecs, further down along were naturally ripped abs and the most sensual happy trail.

All dark and slightly unruly where it dips juuuust below his pants hemline.

Choso flattens his thumb against those golden buttons and lets himself spring free- and oh. 

Oh.

You have to bite back a gasp out of sheer manners, though it should be rather obvious that you were ogling him. All about seven or eight inches of him- maybe more. Definitely more.

The cutest blushin’ pink at his tip, growing slightly more pale towards the base.

Glistening shaft. Heavy balls. He’s decorated with more veins than you might’ve imagined from him, and he’s so hard that each time they twitch his erection flinches in mid air. Fuck…Choso’s just so long and rock-hard that his puckered pink tip jumps upwards and smears a swipe of glistening sap across his abs. It glares at you like a smirk, and Choso sleazes out a smile right back. 

Letting his head fall backwards once he gives his long cock a good pump.

“Oh…” He’s swearing underneath his breath, edging in closer on two capped knees. Those meaty thighs of his were just irresistible - all meaty and milky and flexing.

The slight muscles in his legs twitch as he inches closer to you on the bed. Cornering you against the headboard, Chose wields his swollen tip cloooose between your legs- kissin’ your puffy pussylips. Just a single swipe. “Fuck.”

And that’s all it takes for Choso Kamo to break on your pussy.

Head hanging downwards. Long locks covering his face. The entirety of his body fucking lurching- he’s messily creaming down your slit with copious amounts of cum.

Scorchin’ hot and sticking to you like adhesive.

It dribbless between your folds and enters your hole just the sliiiightest bit - already enough to start sploshin’ inside you and make you feel stuffed to the brim. You’re squirming at the unfamiliar sensation—and what does Choso do?

He’s reeling his hips back and rutting against you like a damn animal.

Unable to control himself. Merely pushing his fat cockhead between your pussylips and shoving- he groans at the way he couldn’t even fit the honed point of his very honed tip inside. 

Just sliding lecherously past your pussylips and rubbin’ his veiny shaft down your front. 

The only thing that that’s doing is grazing your clit and driving the man on top of you absolutely wild. He’s huffing through a pout as he looks down, “I want- ngh, I want to make it feel good for you, my princess. But it just won’t seem to fit.” Without much warning, he’s slithering his right hand down and scissoring open your snug hole. “Does this pretty pussy need me to s-stretch her out even more?”

“Oh—maybe.” You blubber out, looking at him through a heady gaze. “Choso…it’s my first time.”

And he knows he should expect it- fuck, he’s been at your side through every second of every day after you’ve come of age. He should already know by now. 

His lips part, “Oh.”

“And I suspect it’s your first time, too?”

“It is…” Choso looks away bashfully, “My apologies, Your Highness, that I’m not experienced enough to perhaps give you the pleasure that you deserve-”

“Cho?”

He immediately shuts himself up, “Mhm?”

But instead of answering- you’re grabbing ahold of one of Choso’s muscular deltoids. It was just so plush and flexed as you moved him beneath you - flipping your positions over until his back hit the decadent mattress. And you’re clamoring on top of his slender hips, only slightly wobbly with the aftermath of your previous high.

All of Choso’s ivory sap dripped down your inner thighs and tried to glue them together. It was a treacly sheen that slid down his rock-hard abs.

And you’re gliding on top of him- draaaagging your swollen pussylips down his veiny shaft. A whimper lets out of your lips as his flared silt catches on your folds, “F-fuck—Cho, the court ladies told me about this particular position called, ahem- riding.”

He’s looking up at you with wide, heart-shaped eyes. 

And your veins bubbled with molten embarrassment and need, “I’m going to ride you now, alright?”

“Yes-”

“Yes…what?”

Choso breaks out into the most sinful grin you think you’ve ever seen on him- “Yes, my liege.”

And that’s all it takes for you to perk your hips up just a lil’ bit and let Choso’s round orifice trace the outer rim of your hole. Just getting your body trained to the size - and even that is enough to make the man beneath you squirm.

To make him blush. To make him gasp.

To make him reach both quivering hands up and dig them into the globes of your ass- he’s jolting as though fighting with himself over letting you take your agonizing pace or humpin’ up into you like an animal.

Crying out—“Please. I need you so f-fucking bad.” 

And you can pinpoint the exact moment that Choso’s husky voice breaks - all because you’re swerving your hips down and taking a gooood three or so inches of his fattened cock. Red-hot. Throbbing all the way deep inside of you.

The stretch was just so incredible that you’re seeing pure white- a primal moan ripping from your throat at the way he molded to your walls. Almost as if he was made for you.

He’s giving his first spurt of milky precum against your velvety channel, it drips down to your entrance and makes you twitch at the sensation.

Choso Kamo was ruining you from the inside and he wasn’t even trying yet.

Yet you’re still gasping- clawing onto his shoulders and then eventually down to his cushion-like pecs. Providing a firm hold for you as you’re trying to keep yourself balanced. Your mind muddled-

“Does- does it feel good yet, my princess?” Almost in the distance, you can hear Choso’s words echoing. They seem to rattle inside your emptied brain right now. “Does- does it- fuuuck—because it feels like heaven to me.”

“Shit, it feels so…” Your jaw drops agape, running out of words. Having him intruding at your innards like this wasn’t necessarily unpleasant- in fact, when he slightly rutted and rubbed against a few particular spots it almost felt unreal…

You’re keeping a firm grip on him and lightly bouncing your hips down - short, sloppy thrusts that give off a slurp! every time.

And Choso was giving off the prettiest little whimper every time you swallowed his solid tip. Just about two or three inches. “F-feels good?” He’s begging. Tears crinkle on the edges of his eyelids, and his lips wobble ever-so-slightly. “Feels good, right? Am I making my princess feel good?”

“So good.” You manage to gasp out. “Shit, I have yet to feel such pleasure with my fingers…”

“Being held at a degree higher than the fingers of my princess—?” He couldn’t believe it himself. And almost as though to confirm, Choso’s reaching over and lifting your dominant hand off of his pectoral. He brings it up to his mouth and gives it a long kiss, “Y-you cannot be serious.” Breathing in, as if to breathe in your essence. “The hands of my princess…”

Your jaw drops as his own does - opening wide enough to slip as few of your fingers inside and suck. “You’re more of a lecher than your innocent demeanour- ngh, lets on.”

“Only for you, Your Highness.”

And with your never-ending vulgar strokes, you’d managed to bully about half of Choso’s erection inside of you. It was a girth thick enough to stretch out hidden nooks n’ crannies inside you that you didn’t even know you had, and the perfect length to already be throbbin’ away by your g-spot…

You swivel your hips lightly enough to let his tip graze your most favorite spot- and you can’t help but fucking shake at the burst of sensations.

He’s hissing at the way you clench, “Oh, please-” Head falling backwards into the pillow in a dizzy haze. “D-does that little…squeeze mean it feels good?”

“Yes-” You gasp, “And it also means I ache for you more.”

Your best friend gulps, “Where?”

And it doesn’t take long for you to maneuver one of his calloused palms off of your hips and down to your stomach. Where it felt like he was so big that you could feel him from the outside—Choso presses down as he sinks in. “Here.” 

That was almost enough to make him cum.

But Choso had already cum earlier - and it wasn’t a matter of not being able to stuff your pussy full all over again. He’s sure he could cream himself dry on your pussy. It was more so the fact that, in order to make up for it, he needed to make you cum at least twice more before finally finishing off himself.

One taste of your cunt clenchin’ around him and he’s feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

Almost subconsciously - body moving before mind - Choso arches off the comforter to probe his blushin’ tip deep inside you. “Shit- you just reached so deep, Cho.”

“Would you like me to take over, Your Highness?” Oh—how he loved the way that title rolled off of his tongue when he fucked you. His lowly body marking out your insides-

And he’d known you for so long by now.

He knew everything about you: every like, every dislike, every tell about your body. And he already knows from the hazy look in your peripherals that you’d been growing tired, thighs twitching any time you tried to messily bounce down on his cock.

Which is why one of Choso’s large hands cup your ass and start to help you fuck back into him- his muscules flexing mouth-wateringly every time he did so. Deeper and deeper. “Come on, my princess.” The hand on your stomach lifts off and glides down your pussy’s slit. Perfectly finding and pressing down on your knobbly clit - so sensitive. “Come on- fuck, let this loyal knight of yours make you feel good.”

“But the thing is…” You whimper out, head dropping down to look at the space between your legs. Like this, the size difference between your puckered hole and Choso’s thick cock. Growing even thicker before your very eyes. “-you’re just so damn big, Choso. Will it even fit?”

“I can make it fit.” He answers readily, as though the answer had already been on the tip of his tongue. For years, actually - all those long nights since becoming your personal knight. With only his hand and the image of you. He knows he’s fucking pathetic. 

But he can’t bring himself to regret a single moment anyway. Because it’s only with that imaginary practice that he’s swervin’ his hips up to yours in slightly circular motions. “I can do anything for you.” 

“Anything?”

He gasps out, “Anything for you, Your Highness.”

With his tongue stuck between his teeth, he’s crossing his brows and focusing on simply sensually fitting his cock inside. Uuuup with that big stretch.

Your head knocks backwards, “Ch-Choso—” Never been stretched like this before. 

And then again with those rovering pushes.

“Choso.”

And again.

“Fuck-”

Choso wasn’t even answering any more - just couldn’t. He had his mind focused solely on one thing, and that was to pump all his generous inches inside you, which might be easier said than done considering how the longer he spent in contact with your pussy…the more pussydrunk he seemed to be becoming.

Until he was all but babbling—gasping, tearing up, fighting against the carnal resistance, holding onto you hard enough to leave nail marks all down your body. He was shovelling his ruddied cockhead with a thwack! against the very bottom of your pussy. 

Bottomed-out. 

You collapse down onto his chiselled chest with a strangled scream, feeling the metaphorical pop! of both your cherries. As well as the squirt of precum emptied out against your cervix-

The last thing you’re feeling before Choso’s leaving your entrance all sore.

Before he’s drilling up into you like a crazed man.

Fucking up into you with honed, deep thrusts - all the way from the globular edge of his shaft and then doooown until your clit scratches on the tufts of black hair at his base. He’s whacking your g-spot and then skidding right down until his puckered tip meets your womb. Rapid. Ravenous.

The bed creaks from the sheer pace of his movements, mingling with the shrill noises that you were letting out yourself. “So this is what it feels like- oh.”

Choso drags his right thumb down your pussy’s slit- that dewy spot of your clit being the perfect target for him to press down on. “This is what it feels like—” There’s such a dreamy quality to his words, languid and slightly slurred. “It feels like absolute heaven j-just-”

“Just?” You look up at your knight when he trails off.

Not expecting him to break out into the most sleazy smile. “Just having my innocence taken by the princess.” He says it in a way that sends shives down your spine - firm and possessive.

And even more possessive was the way that Choso thereafter clings a hold onto your waist and pulls you down to him. His abs shifting underneath you as he presses a kiss to your bitten lips—as he spits a wad of his saliva between them. “Taking the princess’s innocence- the whole kingdom should know that I r-ruined their perfectly innocent princess.” He’s gasping out, lost in the feeling of his entire engorged inches being suctioned by your walls. “That I made her- hah, pussy mine.”

“Choso—” Your eyes blow wide in shock and pleasure.

Because just then the hand teasin’ at your clit decides to jump straight to pinching right there. 

It makes you twitch on top of him.

The pit of your stomach fizzling with something that feels good-

“Oh, but fear not, Your Highness.” He continues as if he isn’t just driving you wild. Ruining your insides with the constant, rhythmic squelching of his large cockhed—pushing and pushing. And pushing. 

Choso stares up at you with a half-lidded gaze - direct eye contact even when he’s craning upwards to bite down on your left nipple. Dark lashes fluttering, “For every part of me is likewise yours.”

“Every part?” You shudder.

“Every part.” In emphasis, his cock throbs furiously inside you. 

Succeeding in swervin’ in each glittering droplet of precum and slick and seed back in. He groans, “And you know you can ride this lowly knight as much as you want- as hard as you want.”

“I…” Your mouth feels as parched as a desert, “I would like that, my knight.”

Leaning slightly back on the bed, he’s letting you take more control. “Ride me- ride me dry, princess.” Just so achingly needy for you that you could almost taste it.

His salted-caramel taste sizzling at the back of your throat- his vanilla scent filling up your every other sense. You could now fit the pace to whatever you liked, “Sh-shit-” To whatever massaging rubs against your bundled nerves. “Shit—it’s almost t-too much. Impossible to believe.”

“Yeah? Feels good, doesn’t it?” Choso’s on board with his hand planted underneath your ass. Using a singular hand, he’s manhandling your hips up and down—up and down. Jerking you almost like a ragdoll down his incredible size, he lets every drop of his drivelling precum get sucked dry by your cute cunt. “Feels good riding your m-most loyal knight? Feels good making such a mess of me—oh?”

“It does.” You’re so stupid on his cock by now that you simply have to confess. “I—fuck, I must be true- it does.”

“Good.” Spittle drools down one edge of his lips. Choso Kamo wanted to be used. 

He wasn’t letting you even bounce your hips away for a mere millisecond- always chasing the back of your pussy with his cockhead. He hisses, “Feels good just- fuck, being fucked by the very man sworn to protect you, hm? Feels good knowing that all those years I’ve wanted this- all this time, I’ve imagined it like some pervert—” Choso casts a glance around the grand room, “All the nights I was here. All the days I spent watching you. Feels good knowing that I would’ve died just for a taste of your sweet cunt, huh?”

Thumb faster n’ faster on your clit.

“Feels good knowing that I shan’t ever in this life, nor any others, even so much as look at another?”

And another one of his rugged hands lifts up from your thighs to cup your cheek - he lets you hold your own chasing your high. Slurping and swallowing his fat cock between your legs intensely, as Choso wipes away a stray tear cascading down your cheek.

“Feels good knowing that you have bewitched me—you and this damn- pretty pussy.”

“Yes-” You’re whimpering out loud enough for it to echo across these four gilded walls. Your mind being a complete mess. “Yes, yes, yes—and I’m gonna…”

“Fuck.”

He’s feeling it before you do once you finally crash into your high.

It’s your second of the night, and just because you’re slightly overstimulated from it doesn’t mean that Choso’s about to slow down. Instead, he’s drilling into you with achingly needy strikes - all vicious pumps against the spot of your nerves, and then nicely sliding down the back of your cervix. Over and over.

A long overarching wave of your orgasm- “Ch-Choso.” One that leaves your body limp and helpless to the way he crushes you against his beating chest. “Need you to cum inside, Choso.”

You’re pleasing up at him in a way that’s irresistible.

“Let your climax at least settle, impatient princess.” He’s lightly chuckling. Increasing his ministrations on your poor clit - only elongating your zaps of pleasure.

Until he seemed to be numbing your body completely with so many sensations, all bubbling through your veins and pouring out in the form of your sweetened slick. “But I want it.” You huff. “What if that was an order?”

“Oh, you really are my spoiled princess. Even after I’ve already given you m-my cock and two orgasms…and my heart.” He’s echoing out in a parched tone. Increasing and increasing the sheer amount of pleasure he was giving you - until it you’re been fucked considerably past the twinges of your high.

Straight into another.

And it seemed to be exactly what Choso was waiting for- before he’s throwing his head back and cumming right in unison with you. “Fuuuuck- take it all.” Words trembling. “Take it all, my dearest princess, take it all from your knight.”

And you can feel him empty it out inside you.

His heavy balls twitching with the looong stripes of sap he was flooding out, they splosh against each of your crevices. Pumped deeper inside with every thrust. The smell of his arousal just twitches something dark and carnal within you- and you’re pushing your face into the crook of his neck. Inhaling that soft vanilla accent.

So in contrast with the pelvis slamming against yours, hard enough that his skin starts to redden. The sheer force of it is enough to make you flinch back - and enough for him to hold onto your body in any way he can and pin you down to his front.

Unable to escape, you can only whine at the way he fucks you through his high. “Oh my…” Your mouth starts to water. No novel or scandal sheet had ever described this before. “Ch-Choso you’re the best.”

And you swear that only makes him cum harder.

So much of it that it begins to trickle out of your hole almost immediately- something that Choso certainly couldn’t have. 

So he swipes his thumb down from your clit and starts swabbin’ those wads back inside.

“I ache for you.” He’s whimpering out, big bulbous tears glimmering on the edges of his lashes. His pink lips jut out into what almost looks like a pout, “My dearest princess, I ache for you-” Followed by the sharp inhale of breath once he grazes over your clit once more. “-so much so that it’s leaking out.”

“I ache for you, too, Choso. So much.” 

“Hah…not as much as I do for you.” As if the petering out of his ribbony white cum had ultimately brought back an inkling of his rationality again. “Though for a lowly knight to be so forward-”

You’re leaning down and wiping away the tears from his handsome cheeks. “Choso…you would never be undeserving of me.” It’s the firm tone that makes him freeze, snapping his head to you with sheeny eyes. “In fact, I could argue that it is I who does not deserve y-”

Choso doesn’t let you finish that sentence.

He’s kissing you long and sound.

And as he smiles against your lips, you decide that you have a long conversation to be had with your father at daybreak.

As heir to the throne.

.

.

.

There is a celebration in the bejeweled chapel that morning.

Though not of a wedding, rather…a coronation.

With the promise of a wedding.

And as you sit upon your velvet throne, the crown jewels balanced heavily on your head and your hands, you feel the folded-up piece of paper tucked away in your locket. Humming.

You catch Choso’s eye, closest amongst the row of knights at attention.

You wink.

He smiles.

Yuji shoots you a thumbs up.

Yaga watches the scene and smiles a slight smile.

Shoko could not have looked more smug.

And Naoya? Though the Zenin family was happy to attend, one such prince was pointedly not invited. Nor would he be claiming any thrones any time soon.

As the ceremony continues, the letter pulses with delight-

“My dearest princess,

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your dearest knight.”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader,

Church bells are a-toll—though not for a royal wedding (though be patient, and we shall see the very same soon)—for it’s a royal coronation!

Her Highness, the princess, both shocked and scandalized the Ton at the Royal Diamond Ball last night by attending to her first dance with none other than…her personal knight. Yes, Sir Choso Kamo was chosen personally by the daring royal to be the gentleman that sweeps her off of her feet (on the dance floor). 

And query any ogling noble at the ball that night, and should they find the time between plucking the flies out of their mouth, then all shall confirm that the young couple was rather…scandalously close. Though keeping to his hands confined to places the Ton would approve of, it was rather evident that the way the princess and her knight looked at each other was ripped straight from a fairy tale. The romance!

And just as any good fairy tale should have an obvious villain, this writer’s insiders claim that Prince Naoya Zenin was certainly not happy with the incident. 

Though you must forgive this dear writer if my memory of such dudgeon royal guests is far from perfect. For I was far too occupied with the later…disappearance of Her Highness.

And most conveniently, her knight, as well.

The princess was most certainly not present as she was dubbed the Diamond of the season, nor would she have been able to keep her eyes (or hand) away from Sir Choso long enough to notice. You read that right, dear reader, the Ton has positively been fanning themselves all morning at the juicy details being whispered down palace halls.

My trusted sources claim that the princess and her knight had been locked up in her royal bed chambers…all night. And though the contents of what they may have gotten up to inside this chamber is all speculation, late-night patrol down the palace halls claim they heard the most…peculiar noises emanating from the princess’s bedroom.

All. Night. Long.

Though, of course, Her Highness’s ultimate return to the ball long past the Diamond announcement is a source of many rumors—this eagle-eyed writer would like to point out something else entirely.

Bite marks. Unsteady gait.

Glowing.

Perhaps all coincidence, of course, that Sir Choso Kamo had donned his knight’s armor and hidden any of his own marks from view. It is undeniable that the princess had been carrying evidence of a knight—my apologies, I meant night well-spent!

And perhaps most damning of all might be the fact that - after a terse discussion with His Majesty, the King, as my sources say - an announcement was made at the very cusp end of the ball.

Of the princess’s coronation as Queen tomorrow, and of Sir Choso Kamo’s induction as King Consort. He shall henceforth and forevermore be known as King Consort Choso Kamo, Duke of Kamo Estate. 

And lastly, of a summer wedding, due on the horizon. (Sources also claim something else due…a bundle of joy perhaps between the young couple.)

But that is enough of speculation—oh, what was that? 

I can hear your cries, gentle reader, I can hear them! Worry not, this writer is yet to forget a single detail of the most succulent gossip from the Ton - I already foresee your queries about what happened to Her Majesty’s secret admirer then.

I believe you shall be delighted to know that my insider tells me that…the very secret admirer you speak of is now King Consort. What a romantic twist to the tale!

Now as Prince Naoya fumes and my readers rejoice, excuse me while I dry my tears and pick out my best summer arrangements for this royal wedding—for you know that this writer must always be on the scene!

We wish the happy royal couple all the best with their preparations!

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

A/N. Any guesses on who Lady Whistledown might just be??