Stella

“Not for a while,” Ivan admitted. He was probably a child the last time his family had gathered around to do so and he didn’t count Maggie’s sing song every year, because that was usually as she was charging towards him to force him into a hug. But perhaps he had wanted to hear Zoey’s voice just for him.

Taking a deep breath he exhaled, watching as just over half the candles were extinguished. Perhaps his lungs weren’t as good as they used to be. Another puff and there was nothing but a thin strand of smoke rising from them, adding a rather nice illusion to the Starry Night surface. It was done now, and his wish made. Not that Ivan expected any of it to come true, it was tradition more than any superficial hope that magic existed.

“Oh definitely, a whole year’s worth of wisdom has just smacked me in the face,” he replied, turning round with her movement to find her grabbing a blanket. His brows furrowed momentarily until she explained it. He was surprised to find something stirring inside of him with the picture in front of him, a strange feeling twisting in the pit of his stomach before settling. With a cool smile he looked between the cake and the blanket. “Well with that offer, I think it’ll have to be dessert first. Pass me the knife.”

Zoey knew better than to ask someone what they wished for- otherwise it wouldn’t come true! And him getting his wish meant more than satiating her curiosity.

She couldn’t help but smile at his response, biting back the urge to quip if it had hurt. “You sound wiser already,” she piped as she walked over the knife, offering it handle first with a playful bow. “And you’re not even thirty-one yet, you still technically have..” she glanced over her shoulder to take a peek at the clock “another twenty three minutes and some odd seconds to go.”

Celebrating his birthday the night before had been strategic planning on her part. She knew he’d be swept up in his princely duties on the actual day; having to mingle with diplomats and other royals, there was no room for the help on that occasion. Zoey had had enough experience with Nate to know when to make herself scarce. And well.. she couldn’t forget the very real possibility of his future wife wanting to spend time with him also. 

The engagement was the only novel part of walking the very fine line that had been befriending royalty. She’d long left the Philippines before Nate had gotten betrothed, and though it didn’t make it any easier pill to swallow at least she saw that one coming. This betrothal, however, had snuck up on her. It seemed like just yesterday they were joking about him being one of the most coveted bachelors and now he was just one ceremony away from being someone’s husband; as if their meetings weren’t clandestine enough. 

Zoey deflected the thought with a sharp inhale as she turned to grab the plates; taking the moment her back was turned to the prince to redirect her thoughts to something more.. productive. “So what does a prince typically get on his birthday?” The plates that had been borrowed from the kitchen clanged against one another in her grasp. “A jet?... Keys to a city?... A stable full of horses?” She asked with as lighthearted a smile she could summon, knowing that what she got him probably paled in comparison. 

Another year had come and gone, marking the amount of times Ivan had travelled around the sun. Thirty-one. It was no wonder his parents had finally proceeded with a betrothal, especially with Maggie now out of the picture. After all, time was ticking for him to produce heirs that would take the throne after he had seen his reign end. Continue the strong line of Romanovs, always on the throne.

He already knew that the castle was putting together a party to celebrate the birthday of their crown prince, Ivan was just glad that they hadn’t chosen the exact day for whatever reason or another. He was looking forward to simply spending some quiet time with some drinks and his cigarettes. And of course Zoey. He hadn’t seen her around nearly as much since the announcement of his betrothal and though he’d never admit it out loud he missed their late night rendezvous’. 

He had been hoping to hear the usual knock on the door all night and when it finally came he leapt up, moving to open the door with a cigarette balanced between fingers. Green eyes watched as she swept passed him and dropped something down, only when it was placed on the surface did he realise it was a cake and when he took in the familiar artwork his lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile. “That depends, would singing it be more awkward for me or you?” he asked, brow quirked at her. Still he stepped up to the cake, looking down at it debating before blowing out the candles with a huff.

“Something tells me you haven’t had to sit through too many awkward happy birthday songs,” She returned a smile as she hovered slightly behind him, eager to see him make his wish. Though it had become less of a rarity in her presence, Zoey still felt a sense of accomplishment when she caught a glimpse of his upturned lips. Lips that managed to stay surprisingly pink despite his less than stellar smoking habit. 

From the outside looking in, it was easy for people who weren’t royal to wonder what a prince- one of the most, if not the most, powerful prince- could possibly wish for. Royals, and the people that worked for them, had done an impeccable job curating the illusion of having everything they could ask for but all that glittered most certainly wasn’t gold. Zoey saw first hand how miserable royal life could be and at the very top of her list of wishes, had she been a royal herself, would be to marry for love instead of out of obligation. But tradition was tradition. A fact that had been drilled into her long before she’d met the Russian prince.

“Do you feel one year wiser?” Zoey queried jovially, wasting no time as she carefully pushed the furniture that had occupied the center of the room to the outskirts. Laying down the biggest blanket she could source in the castle before kicking off her shoes to sit down. “I figured we could have a floor picnic,” she piped, reaching for the basket she’d brought with her. It was far more discrete and a touch more intimate than the gardens or the greenhouse. “And you, as the birthday boy- man- get to decide if we start with dessert or save it for last” 

Despite her best attempts to curtail all the time they had been spending together there was one occasion she absolutely couldn’t let pass by, even if she tried. It had been on the kitchen staff’s calendar as the most important birthday of August and the undertaking that was all of Russia’s most famous dishes had taken such precedence, the preparation had required extra hours during the days leading up to it.- But Zoey, nevertheless, found her way back into the kitchen long after her colleagues had called it a night to work on something a little more personalized.

It had been quite the task; stealthily hiking from the staff quarters to those of the prince’s with a picnic basket on her arm and a cake in her hands. The fragile flames dancing wildly as she lifted her hand to give her signature knock. -- “I’m going to spare you the awkwardness of me singing happy birthday but,” she excitedly brushed passed the prince to carefully set it down on the first clear space she saw, allowing no time for him to protest, “you still have to make a wish!”

Snowdrop: Describe a time they felt hope.

Gladiolus: What’s one time your character has stuck to their morals and convictions?

Fact #5

Fact #4 

Fact #3

Fact #2- 

Fact #1- 

Zoey’s parents opted for very Western sounding first names, to oblige Zoey’s grandparents (on her father’s side) who are of American and Canadian descent. However, both her and her sister were given traditional Filipino middle names to reflect their heritage and culture.

He had allowed his attention to go to the couples around them, his mind pre-occupied with a search for someone that he shouldn’t have been searching for in the first place. He knew it wasn’t fair to the girl currently in his arms but he only looked back at her when she had returned the compliment. His eyes lingered on her for a moment as if he was shocked she was there before a grin slowly spread and the housekeeper let out a breath that he hadn’t known he’d been holding in. This was his partner right now, someone he had been dreading meeting but was turning out to be a very lovely person, and he owed her his attention for the hour they were supposed to spend together at least. “I appreciate that. It is not often I get to wear extravagant clothing…actually I have never worn anything like this before. It feels…strange.”

He lead her in the dance for a moment, the silence mostly he could allow her to gain her confidence in the movement, before he made an encouraging comment letting her know she was doing well. Laughing, he shrugged a shoulder. “What is that saying? Give credit where it is due?” Shaking his head at her question, Alexi looked back up to take in the rest of the dancers as he answered. He wasn’t ashamed of his job but he was well aware it wasn’t very glamorous. “It is nothing big. I just roam around the place with a duster and a trash can and clean up a bit.”

Zoey hadn’t noticed that his attention had shifted- more so focused on not injuring him again and using this opportunity to practice as much as she could before she met up with the Russian Prince.--His slight delay in response having been the only indicator that his thoughts had drifted elsewhere for a moment. “The closest I’ve gotten to a ball was prom which was quite some time ago,” she admitted, her smile still present. Though not as grand as this one- in scale- that night lived in her head rent free as one of the best nights of her life.

Zoey saw value in everything and everyone- his environmental services job being no exception. “It’s not nothing big- I’m actually a huge fan of your work-- I’ve yet to see a speck of dust in the palace-- my room aside but that’s one hundred percent my fault.” Zoey not having been a messy person but having a tendency to put off cleaning until she could give it her all.; sage cleansing included. “I actually don’t think I’ve ever lived in a place that’s so.... immaculate. It puts my mom’s cleaning to shame. Sometimes I feel like I’m defiling the pristiness.” Once having mistakenly set her iced coffee down on one of the tables- leaving behind a blasphemous ring.

“Of course, I’m Russia’s most eligible bachelor after all.  Some have tried to change that but ultimately failed,” he answered and he wasn’t lying.  While he made sure that he always made it clear what he was after and what girls were getting into there had been the odd one that thought they could change his mind and tried to hang around.  Eventually though they all gave up.

Immediately setting the glass aside Ivan watched as she struggled with the aftertaste of the shot, something that he had long since burned away.  Once more he couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her figure, quite enjoying what he saw.  It was a treat certainly, but he also knew that when she returned to her regular attire the next day he would still be able to picture perfectly this version of her.  With her rebuttal he smiled slightly.  “Let me guess, you’re an incredibly giggling drunk, maybe a bit flirty, and I’m going to have to stop you running off and jumping into the pool later?” 

When she looked for the verification he gave her a nod.  He doubted that she had actually forgotten their talk about the dance and that she was simply acting coy instead.  “I do,” he repeated, guiding her towards the space cleared for the dance floor, leaning down to whisper in her ear as he positioned himself. “Is that so? Maybe you’ll have to show me just what those hands can do sometime.” 

“I’m sure you are and I’m sure they have,” Zoey hardly doubted either of the two statements. Though she was certain it was only a matter of time till he was spoken for. And if his parents were anything like her ex’s uncle he wouldn’t have much say in the matter.

Zoey shook her head in response, a smile teasing her lips; for the first time successfully eluding the version of her he’d assumed. “I’m actually not--- I kind of find any and every reason to compliment someone. And apparently I get very touchy feely- so I hug people a lot- complete strangers being no exception,” -- something that had been very characteristic considering personal touch was one of her top ranking love languages. “And I would never do anything that reckless while drunk.” Or sober- For fear of suffering an untimely death similarly to her sister.

“What about you? Are you a super serious drunk? Do you start fights?” She asked, genuinely curious to both hear and see what version of himself he became once intoxicated. Navigating around the dancing bodies as he led the way, she claimed her spot in front of him. Her face turning just a smidge towards his- their cheeks brushing lightly- on account of his words.  Zoey fighting a blush at the suggestive nature but failing miserably. “Try a mini pavlova- I made them.” It was her best attempt to spin his comment and steer it away from being as salacious as he intended.