Dawg With A Blog

You walked through the rows and rows of bookshelves in the great library of the palace. No matter how long you had lived in the palace, you could never quite comprehend the size of the rooms. Every wall in the grand room was lined with books of all sorts, new, old, scriptures, poems, stories, records. The ceiling was a beautiful glass dome, letting in all the natural light the sun had to offer, making the room seem more like heaven than a library.

You spent most of your free time here, tucked away between towering shelves, grabbing as many books as you could possibly carry. You found comfort in knowledge, comfort in stories. There was a small area on the second floor of the library that was your personal cove. It was hidden slightly behind two long shelves of scrolls that had ancient texts scribbled deep into the parchment. Behind the scrolls gave way to a small opening where a beautiful stained glass window faced the rising sun. There was a plush bench that connected to the divot of the wall, sitting flush up against the grand window. You could spend hours there and never get bored, and that's what you did. You came up to the window right as the sun began to rise, before the responsibilities of your job fell on your shoulders.

For a long time you had thought that you were the only one that knew of the spot. You figured you must be, because you couldn't fathom someone knowing about the little cove and not spending as much time there as they possibly could. And you were almost correct, almost no one knew of the spot. Almost.

There was a certain young prince who knew of the spot. Michael had been watching you for some time, far longer than you had ever realized. He had realized you had found his secret spot one day after a particularly grueling meeting with his brothers and his father. He was exhausted from all the ridiculous duties that were demanded of him, and he was especially fed up with hearing about the neighboring kingdom's ruler, Diana Ross. After the meeting he had headed straight to the window, a book about different species of animals tucked neatly under his right arm. But to his surprise, he found the bench occupied by you. He didn't know your name at the time, but he knew you were Janet's lady in waiting, and he knew how much Janet adored you. He watched you for longer than he should have.

His eyes traced over your figure, sitting like an angel in the window. The sun shone perfectly through the stained glass, creating a technicolor glow around you. You were too immersed in the book in your lap to notice how ethereal you looked, let alone notice the love stricken prince staring right at you. Michael wanted nothing more than to sit beside you, but he couldn't bring himself to pull you out of the trance the book had placed on you, so he quietly left. He headed straight to Janet's room, demanding she tell him your name.

Janet stared at him for a moment, not happy about her brother barging into her room at such a ridiculous hour and depriving her of her beauty sleep. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up with a groan, "Michael, what are you on about?"

"Your lady in waiting, Dunk. That's what I'm on about. What's her name?" He paced in front of his sister's bed, waiting anxiously for your name.

The exhaustion on Janet's face disappeared in an instant, mischief immediately replacing it. "Why do you want to know?"

Michael let out a whiney groan, "Just tell me!"

Janet sat up in the bed with a fake shocked expression, "Michael! You got a crush on my dear lady in waiting!?"

"No!" He said so quickly that not even he believed himself.

Janet giggled maniacally. "Well then why do you need to know her name? Why ask me, just ask her yourself."

"Well, because I- well she, and y'know I just... well I was going, but she y'know. So yeah." Nonsense was the only thing that escaped his mouth.

Janet stared at him for a moment. "What?"

"Oh nevermind! You're no help." He turned on his heel, storming out of his sister's room and right into you. The force sent you stumbling backwards. Before you could regain your balance, a gentle hand grabbed your waist and pulled you back onto your feet. You looked up at the mysterious person only to find yourself face to face with Prince Michael. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and I, are you okay?" He looked at you with so much concern it took the air out of your lungs.

The only response you could muster was a small nod. Janet appeared behind him, "Michael who did you- OH! Well if it isn't my beautiful, amazing, did I mention beautiful, lady in waiting, Y/n!"

You quickly bowed, "My apologies your highness, I should've knocked."

Janet rolled her eyes, "Oh please, that was all my brother."

Michael nodded, "Yes, that was completely my fault, and really there is no need to bow."

You stood upright, your face heating up at the interaction. "I was just on my way to wake up Jane- the princess." You quickly corrected yourself.

"Y/n, you can call me Janet around my brother, it's really no big deal. Everyone knows you're like my best friend."

You nodded, eyes looking anywhere but at Michael. He cleared his throat before carefully shimmying out of the room. "I'll go now, apologies again for tripping you." He nodded his head at you and practically raced down the hall to his own room.

You were left utterly confused by the whole interaction, and even more confused when you saw the giant smile plastered on Janet's face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh no reason!" she responded in a sing-songy tone before pulling you into her room.

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The next time you ran into Michael it went a lot more smoothly. He had been working up the courage to approach you in the library for some weeks. Ever since hearing your name he couldn't get it out of his head. He thought about it all the time, in meetings, during his studies, while he roamed the palace, and especially at dinners where he watched you stand against the wall with his other siblings' servants. He had always wanted the other lords and ladies in waiting to be able to eat at the table with the royal family, but he didn't exactly know how his father would take it. So every dinner he did his best not to stare at you the entire time.

But now, standing just 20 feet away from your relaxed figure, he couldn't help but stare. He really had never seen a creature so ethereal, it almost hurt him to look. But there he was, hiding behind the shelves of scrolls, watching you helplessly.

He had decided that today was the day. He was going to man up and talk to you, and not like a royal speaking to a servant, no he was going to talk to you like a human. He was just trying to muster up all the courage before there was no going back.

You can do it. Why are you so nervous? She's a human just like you. Just be yourself, be confident, go for it! You can do it.

Before he could stop himself he carefully stepped out from his hiding spot, walking carefully towards you.

When you heard the footsteps approaching you looked up, expecting another servant. The last person you expected to see was Prince Michael. But there was something different, in this light he didn't look much like a prince. No, he looked more relaxed, natural, less intimidating. It brought a gentle smile to your face.

He smiled back, sitting carefully across from you on the long bench. "Morning."

You felt your stomach twist in carefully. You responded with a breathy "Good morning."

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not, you're allowed to sit wherever you would like. You're a prince. Oh my, where are my manners." You started to get up to bow.

Before you had the change he gently grabbed your wrist, "Please, there is no need for the formalities. And please, call me Michael."

His touch calmed you, making you relax back onto the bench. "I'm not sure I'm allowed to do that."

"Yes you can, I'm allowing it." He smiled at you.

You couldn't help but smile back and settle right back into your cozy little corner. "Alright then, Michael. Then you have to call me, Y/n."

He nodded, "It's a deal then, Y/n." You both shared a giddy smile, "What are you reading?"

"Oh, it's a book about medicinal herbs. I'm sure it sounds boring, but it's actually quite fascinating. Did you know some people believe that some herbs act as an aphrodisiac and make love potions with them?"

"No I did not, do you believe that they actually work like that?" He leaned closer.

"Mmh," you gave it a thought, "Not really. However, a part of me does think that the idea is quite magical, don't you think?"

He laughed a bit, "I guess that would be kinda magical, but I'd be nervous about the wrong people getting their hands on it."

Your eyes widened, "You're right! I didn't even think about that. Imagine that! Who do you think would be the worst person to get their hands on a love potion?" You leaned in, fully captivated in the conversation.

He didn't waste time answering. "The queen from the kingdom up north." He frowned a bit.

"You mean Queen Diana Ross, right?" You spoke softly. He nodded, eyes losing a bit of light. "I'm sorry, Michael. I think that whole thing is just terrible. I think any kind of arranged betrothal is completely unfair."

He looked up at you, "Really? It seems like almost anyone I talk to is clapping me on the back, saying how lucky I am. It's all about status, all people think about is that I'll become a king."

"And you don't care about any of that." You finished his sentence for him.

"Not at all. Y'know all of my siblings get to find love, none of them have to worry about being married off and having to live somewhere so far from home."

You listened to him carefully. You could tell he didn't get to speak so informally like this often. "I don't understand why all the pressure falls on you, shouldn't it be the oldest?"

"It would be, but Diana asked specifically for me."

"Isn't she much older than you?" You frowned a bit.

He nodded, "Fourteen years older. Y'know I used to have this whole crush on her when I was little, but I was 10! I didn't think it meant I would actually have to marry her." He let out a frustrated sigh, looking out the window.

You watched him for a moment, his big brown eyes didn't look as bright as they usually did, and that sent a pang through your heart. Before thinking, you gently reached over and took hold of his hand, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. His eyes slowly met hers, and they held each other's gaze longer than they should have.

There was a shared sentiment in the small touch, something neither of them had to say aloud. Michael's brown eyes searched hers desperately, he needed to know if she was feeling the same thing he was. It wasn't as intense as his, but he found that small growing allure in her eyes.

You felt him searching, and you meant to shut him out, but there was something about seeing him looking so longingly at you that let him into your heart.

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Things progressed naturally from there. Michael came by the library any chance he could. The two of you sat on the little bench reading quietly, or talking about your struggles. You often told him all about the palace gossip that was going around the workers, and he would tell you all about the newest fight between his siblings. The more time you spent together the smaller that gap between you became. You had started out on opposite sides of the bench, but the more you let each other in the closer you sat. It wasn't something you did consciously, in fact you didn't even realize until you were set flush up against him, his head leaning onto yours.

Something subtle had shifted between the two of you. The silent friendship had turned into a silent longing. But neither of you wanted to be the one to cross the line. You certainly couldn't because of your status, and Michael couldn't for fear of the inevitable marriage waiting for him. But the longing was getting unbearable. It was like fate had taken two strings and cruelly tied you to each other.

Michaels presence in your everyday life was something you had grown comfortable with, it was no longer a sweet surprise to see him in the morning, it was a painful expectation.

With each morning, Michael's restraint slowly deteriorated. Each time he caught a glimpse of you walking the halls with Janet, or standing quietly in the large dining room, a crack in his walls grew deeper. He could hardly keep his eyes from following your every move, let alone keep his feelings inside himself. And he knew you knew. How could you not.

You could see his mind try to hold him back from taking your hand in his while sitting in the library, you could see him tighten his lips in a thin line to keep his confession from spilling out. And you were grateful, because you knew if he were to cross the line you would chase him across it.

It started out so innocent. Starting out as two people who could simply let their guard down, could put their titles behind them and just be who they were. But with every intentional graze of the hand, every look that lasted too long, every word left unsaid, it turned from innocent to intimate.

The shared looks across rooms had something stronger than just longing behind them now. It was like a force pulling you towards each other, a force that was painful to stop. It was becoming heavier with each passing day. Each shared space felt thick with want. Each graze of the knee or gently touch of the hand felt magnetic, it felt uncontrollable.

It felt like fighting a fire with nothing but bare hands.

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The breaking point came during the annual gala, hosted directly in the palace. This was one of the few nights that all of the lords and ladies in waiting were free from their duties and were allowed to mingle among the crowds.

You couldn't decide if you were going to go. You wanted to, really, but you also couldn't bear the idea of Diana being there, seeing her cling onto Michael. You weren't going to go. You didn't think you could stomach that sight. It was decided, until it wasn't.

You were helping Janet into her beautiful gown when she looked at you. "I can't wait to see what you're wearing tonight, and I know a certain someone who can't wait either." She of course knew about you and Michael, how could she not.

You steeled your face as best you could, "I'm not going tonight."

She turned faster than you could blink, gripping your shoulders tightly, "Like hell you're not going! I won't have it. You are going to this gala, and you are going to look drop dead gorgeous, and my brother is going to die."

"Janet, no. Please. I can't. I don't want to see him with that... that... I don't think I'll be able to enjoy anything with Diana there." You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly.

"Y/n, she's not coming tonight." Janet gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

Your head shot up, eyes wide. "She's not? Why? She always comes to these things."

"She's not feeling well, some sort of sickness. So get your butt into a beautiful dress and make my brother speechless! I'm begging you, the tension is killing me." She pushed you out of her room without letting you get out a word in protest.

You sighed and did as you were told, heart racing the whole time. You put extra care into how your hair looked, making sure each strand was exactly where you wanted it to be. And then there was the dress. Janet had been kind enough to buy it for you, insisting that it was the least she could do since you had spent so many nights helping her dress just right. It was the most gorgeous color, it seemed unreal. The bodice wrapped around your body like pure silk, and the skirt fell like a gushing waterfall, cascading down to the floor. It shimmered beautifully under the candle light, making you seem more like a dream than a girl. You had never felt so beautiful yet nervous at the same time.

With each passing step closer to the grand ballroom your hands shook anxiously by your side. All of your friends had already left for the ballroom, leaving you to walk by yourself. You stood at the top of the gold staircase, looking at the sea of people, most royal. People danced gracefully across the floor, dresses puffing out as girls were spun around.

As you descended the stairs you could feel his gaze immediately. You didn't know where he was in the large room, but you knew his eyes were trained on you.

Michael could sense your presence the moment you stepped into the room. He watched you at the top of the staircase, looking like a genuine piece of art. His heart hammered in his chest as he pushed through the crowd so he could meet you at the bottom of the stairs. He wanted this night with you, he was tired of wasting time, you were going to be his.

As you reached the last stair, your eyes met Michaels as he emerged from the crowd like magic. Smiles instantly lit up both of your faces as you walked towards each other. You met halfway, standing so close your chests almost touched. He stared down at you like you were pure starlight, and you up at him like he was moon.

Nothing was said, yet everything was said. He took a moment before offering his arm, "Dance with me." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a command. It was a wish. A wish that you happily granted. Your hand sat in the crook of his arm as he led you to the ballroom floor.

People immediately made space for the two of you, watching as the mysterious prince finally danced with someone. It was a known fact that Prince Michael was incredibly hard to dance with, most times he stood by the side watching all of his siblings dance. It wasn't like he wasn't asked, oh boy, he was, but no matter how many girls asked him, he always declined. And now here he was, dancing with someone nobody knew. It was a sight to be seen.

Neither of you noticed the stares from the guests, or the stares from his family. All you could focus on was each other. He placed a gentle hand on your waist, his other hand holding up yours. Your hand rested not on his shoulder but closer to the back of his neck. You could feel his beautiful curls against your fingers. He carefully pulled you closer, and led you in the dance.

Almost as if fate had planned the whole the, the moment the two of you started to dance, the lighthearted music faded into something slower, more intimate. The music moved both of you closer, chests carefully grazing as he led you across the floor. He smiled down at you, and you up at him, noses almost touching. There was that sparkle in his eye, the one you longed to see everyday.

Everyone in the room had faded into the background, it was just the two of you and the music. He laughed lightly and spoke softly into your ear, "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

"I almost didn't" You answered him truthfully. You were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin, it made you lose all ability to hide anything from him.

"I'm glad you did. I was waiting for you." His breath sent a chill up your spine.

"Why?" your hand gripped his jacket tightly.

"You know why." He responded simply.

You bowed your head away slightly, heart aching, "Michael.."

"Look at me please. I need to see your gorgeous face." His nose brushed against the side of your head. You obeyed, looking back up at him. He let out a breath and smiled wider, "There you are."

"Michael?" Your hand moved to the nape of his neck, fingers twisting one of his curls around your finger.

"Yes?" His answer came out breathy, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a second.

"We can't... not in public." You whispered, heart breaking as the words left your mouth.

"But I want to. And I know you do too. I want nothing more than you right now. All that I want is to hold you." His hand held your waist tightly, like he was scared to let go.

"We can't, and you know that. You have a-" you bit your lip, not able to say the word, "I'm not royalty, you could ruin your image."

"I don't care about my image, I care about you." He tried, but deep down he knew you were right. He frowned, swallowing hard before speaking again, "I just feel so close, and still so far."

"I know, god, I know. I want this so bad. I want a happy ending for us." You looked at him sadly.

"Then let's take it. I know it's stupid. I know it's selfish. But I don't care. I would rather have even a few nights with you than nothing at all. We can keep it all a secret, no one has to know. I mean we've been doing that already. I need you more than I've needed anything in my entire life." His confession knocked the air out of you. "Please, this can't be for nothing."

You should have said no. You knew you were only drawing out the pain. But here he was, dancing with you, standing so close you could see all of the individual colors in his eyes. You nodded, "You have me, Michael."

He broke out into the biggest smile, eyes lighting up like the sun. As the dance slowly melted away he whispered against your ear "Meet me in the gallery in an hour." Then he took a step back and bowed. You curtseyed in response and slowly walked to the refreshments table. Everything in your mind was screaming at you for saying yes, but your heart was doing leaps in your chest. And who were you to deny your heart of what it wanted.

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The hour dragged on for what felt like forever for Michael. After he danced with you it seemed everyone else had finally recognized the treasure that you were. Guy's just kept coming up to you, asking you to dance, kissing your hand, offering you drinks, chatting you up. He couldn't take it anymore. He knew it wasn't fair of him to say because there were just as many girls lined up to talk to him, but still. His eyes darted to the large grandfather clock every 2 minutes, until finally an hour had passed. He quickly excused himself from a conversation with his brothers, walking directly to the gallery.

As he entered, his breath caught. There you were, standing alone among the hundreds of pieces of artwork. But you were the only piece that was actually devastating to look at. It was unfair. He silently walked up beside you. Neither of you said anything for a long time, you just admired the artwork. You could feel the warmth radiating off each other. His hand brushed against yours for a second, before you reached out for his. Your fingers intertwined with his, the intensity building up with each locked finger. You were breathing heavily, heart practically jumping out of your chest. The air grew thick again, as his hand took hold of yours more firmly. You still hadn't said a word or even looked at each other, but the touch was enough to suffocate the both of you. You feared what would happen if you got closer. You feared that you might actually die if your lips touched his.

Michael couldn't take it anymore. His restraint snapped, his walls came crumbling down, as he grabbed your hand tighter and tugged you into his chest. His hand came down to cup your cheek as he dipped his head down, capturing your lips with his own.

You didn't waste a second, you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer. Michael's other hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you flush against him. Somehow you weren't close enough to his liking, his hand ran ramped around your body. He silently cursed your dress for having so much fabric. Before you even realized, he was walking you backwards until your back hit the wall. The kiss deepened dramatically, you couldn't get enough. It was like a flood breaking through a dam. This was now months of yearning all melting into one kiss.

His mouth moved against yours in a fever, his hands squeezing you to him. Your hand tangled into his hair, the other fisting the collar of his jacket yanking his face closer to yours. His lips held yours captive, before they decided to claim your jaw, then your neck. The feeling of his soft lips bruising the skin of your neck made your knees go weak as you pulled at his hair. He groaned into the crook of your neck, his teeth carefully pulling at your skin lightly. You gasped, pulling back slightly.

"Michael!" you looked at him in shock.

He smiled and laughed to himself, "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it, I just can't get enough of you." He nipped at your neck again.

You tried to remain level headed, as best you could, "Michael- there are people," your breath hitches as he kissed a particularly sensitive spot, "a lot of people, including your parents, right in the other room."

He let out a whine and hid his face in your neck for a moment before looking at you, "But you're right here."

You cupped his face, "And I'll be here for a long time, there's no rush."

He nodded, smiling as you grazed his cheek with your thumb. If he could, he would have stayed there with you forever.

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Something changed in Michael after that night, and no one had any real clue what it was. He was happier, he felt more content, his eyes were brighter, he spoke more at dinner, he felt more present in conversations about the kingdom. His father thought that he had finally accepted his fate, but the rest of his family knew better. His brothers knew there was a girl, they just didn't know who. His mother and Janet on the other hand, knew exactly who it was. His other sisters thought that he had finally come to love Diana, which was incredibly wrong.

If anything he began to resent Diana more and more. But at least his mother and Janet knew. Janet knew because, duh. His mother had found out by accident. She had taken a stroll through the library to find her son, and found him cuddled up with you in your little safe haven. Michael laid in between your legs, head rested on your stomach, as you both read silently. Your hand was in his hair, playing with it carefully. The sight was unbelievably tender, and Queen Katherine knew the minute she saw it that her dear son had gotten himself in a lot of trouble. He had gone and fallen in love.

She confronted him about it that night after dinner. Warning him that what he was doing was dangerous. But the way that he talked about you, she knew that there was nothing in the world that could stop him from seeking you out. She could tell from the look in his eye alone that being with you made him so incredibly happy.

And happy he was. He loved finally having you fully. He loved each small kiss on the head, each knowing glance that you shared in the hallway. He loved that you were familiar with his room, and he was familiar with yours. And most of all, he loved you. He would do anything to make you happy. Well almost anything.

No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to tell his father that he wasn't going to marry Diana. It kept him up late at night, even when you were tucked in his arms, breathing steadily, his mind was slowly watching the time run out. And worst, he hadn't told you yet. The arrangement was in a week, and you were completely oblivious.

That is until Janet approached you with a nervous look on her face.

"How are you handling the news?" She asked tentatively.

"What news?" You looked at her confused.

She paled instantly. "He hasn't told you?"

"Janet, told me what?" Your heart dropped before you even heard her answer.

"The wedding, it's in 5 days." She reached for your hand. But you stepped back, vision blurry.

"What? I don't understand, why would he not tell me? That's- 5 days?" Your breathing became sparse.

"Y/n, it's okay. I'm sure he has a plan, I'm sure that's why he hasn't told you. He doesn't want you to worry. Why don't you talk to him." She gently rubbed your arm. You nodded, getting your breathing under control before heading straight for his room, not caring that it was the middle of the day.

You wasted no time knocking, you entered the room, eyes scanning for him. He sat on the edge of his bed, hands in head. His eyes met yours the moment you walked in, and they told you all you needed to know. He had no plan, he wasn't going to tell you. He stood up immediately, walking to you quickly. You backed up, reaching for the doors. "Y/n, wait. Please, love." He grabbed you by the arm, pulling you away from the door.

"Get off me." You yanked yourself free, arms closing around yourself.

"I was going to tell you." He started to explain himself but you shook your head.

"Don't lie to me. You weren't going to tell me anything! You were just going to have me wake up one day and have it be too late!" Your eyes stung with hot tears.

He hated himself for being the cause of your pain. "I wasn't- I wanted to tell you. I just- I didn't want this to end. And I've been trying to find a way to tell my father to call it off but I-"

"Just stop. We both need to stop lying to ourselves." You looked down.

"What do you mean?" his voice cracked.

"We both knew this wasn't going to work. You knew you would never tell your father to call it off, I knew the same. I knew you weren't going to fight for it, and you knew that I wasn't going to push you to. We both knew this would end up like this, so let's not pretend it's fixable." You couldn't stop the tears from falling as you spoke.

Michael watched you silently resign yourself away to being a couple good months of his life. "I'm sorry, I want to fight for this but-"

"But what?"

"I can't" He dropped his head. He expected you to yell at him, to plead with him.

"I know." You whispered.

That hurt him more than anything. It hurt him to know that you understood that he wasn't going to try and stop this whole disaster. He felt like a coward, he felt like he was letting you down.

"I love you." He spoke softly, stepping towards you. This time you didn't step away.

"Don't do this to me." You pleaded.

"I need you to know. You have to know that this time that we spent together was the best time of my life." He grabbed your hands, watching as you shook your head as if that would stop the words from entering your mind. "Please, I need to know if you feel the same."

You couldn't bear to look at him. "I love you too, but I hate that I wasn't enough for you to fight for." You carefully removed his hands from yours.

"Y/n..." He reached for you as you slipped through the door. His heart broke as he watched your figure race down the hall, sobs echoing through the large corridors.

He hated this whole thing. He hated Diana, he hated his father, he hated being royalty, and he hated himself for sitting by idly.

Seeing your broken expression, and how easily you had accepted his inaction stirred something in him.

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(Ending 1- ANGST)

The next five days were the most painful days you had ever endured. Michael had tried constantly to speak to you, but to no avail.

You avoided him like the plague, just wanting the wedding to come and go so you could try and move on. You figured if you kept things up with him it would only hurt more when the day came. Maybe it was better that things ended on a sore note. Maybe that would make him easier to get over. But he wasn't. There was nothing about Michael that was easy to get over. Everything reminded you of him.

As it got closer to the day, you became colder, your brain shutting off your emotions in order to protect you. You helped Janet dress for the wedding, her eyes fixed on your blank expression. She had tried to talk to you, but nothing was getting through to you.

It pained Michael to see you so not yourself at dinner. He didn't care if people realized he was looking at you, honestly, Diana could know for all he cared. His eyes remained glued to your devastatingly empty face.

As he stood at the grand altar he could only look at you, standing quietly in the back, eyes straight ahead. He looked at you as the music played and Diana came down the aisle in a white gown. It should have been you in her place. Even when Diana was standing across from him, looking at him expectantly, his eyes wouldn't pull away from your face. He tried helplessly to lock eyes with you, but you had shut yourself away from the world completely.

After you had visited him, he went to his father. He had begged and begged for the wedding to be called off. But things were already set in stone, there was no going back. That didn't stop him from begging his father every day, even up to the moment before he stepped onto the altar.

He finally tore his eyes from you, scanning the crowd to look for his Mother. His eyes pleaded with her, to tell him what to do. But not even she had an answer for him. Panic set into him as the officiant began the ceremony.

It was over. He had lost you, and lost every good thing in his life in the process. His eyes settled back on you, not leaving your face for even a second. Not when he said his vows, not when Diana kissed him, not when he sat at the large table as a celebration roared around him, not when he had his first dance.

Not even when he was in the carriage, leading him far away from you, his eyes only held the image of yours.

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(Ending 2- Happy!)

The next five days were the most painful days you had ever endured. Michael had tried constantly to speak to you, but to no avail. You were trying your best to protect each other's hearts. You weren't mad at Michael, not really. You understood that this would happen, you understood that it was foolish to think otherwise. But still, a small sliver of you had really hoped that some miracle would happen.

Michael was distraught the whole week. He could barely eat, he couldn't sleep, and he looked pitiful. The sight hurt Katherine to see.

Michael laid in his bed when there was a knock at his door. Thinking it was you he sprung out of bed, tearing the door open. "Mother?"

"Michael, I want to talk to you." She stepped into his room and sat on his bed. She patted the other side, signaling him to sit beside her. "You've been very careless with your heart and that poor girl's heart."

He dropped his head into his hands, "I know."

"I saw the way you were when she was around. You love that girl a lot, don't you?" She looked at him.

"More than anything." He said quietly.

"Enough to marry her?"

"I'd marry her in every lifetime, Mother."

"Then if that's how you feel, you fight for her." She whispered back.

"I don't know how. It's so close to the wedding." He cried quietly.

Katherine patted his back, "Mother always has a plan." She smiled.

He looked up at her, eyes hopeful for the first time that week.

But as soon as hope found its way into his heart, it was quickly squashed by his father.

"No. I made a deal with Diana, you're not backing out for some servant girl."

"She's not some servant girl." Michael protested.

"If you like her that much, keep her around for your own pleasure, I don't care. But you're marrying Diana." His dad looked at him sternly.

"No." Michael stood up straight.

"No?" Joseph looked at him.

"No. I won't do it. If you don't call off the wedding I'll leave, and I'll take her with me."

Joseph laughed, dismissing him. "Go on, this discussion is over."

Michael left defeated. At least he could say he tried.

Soon the day came. Michael stayed in his room as long as he could. He angrily fiddled with his suit, it felt like the collar was choking him. He had begged Janet earlier to let him see you, but she had refused, and you weren't in your room. It was like you had vanished. At least he wouldn't have to see your heartbroken eyes at the wedding.

Before he knew it, Michael was standing at the altar. Things felt strange. He hadn't heard a word about Diana the whole day, and his mother and sister were sitting in their seats looking entirely too smug.

The music began to play, and he forced his eyes to look at the door.

The beautiful doors opened up slowly, he saw the white dress first. The same elegant dress that you had worn to the gala, but now a glistening white. His eyes quickly moved up, finding your smiling face instead of Diana's.

He felt everything slow down. He didn't understand what was going on? His father said no, was this some sort of cruel joke? But a quick glance to his mother, and her confirming nod, told him this was indeed real.

You stepped down the aisle with as much grace as a swan gliding across a lake. He couldn't believe his eyes. There you were, in all of your beauty, walking towards him. He didn't wait for you to get to the end of the altar, he stepped down and grabbed your hand, guiding you up the stairs. His eyes watered as he held your hands. You smiled and reached up, gently wiping the tears from his eyes and whispering a gentle, "Surprise."

He couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face. This was real, you were real, and you were in front of him, dressed in white. He pulled you close, hands gripping yours as the officiant said whatever long winded nonsense behind him. You smile back, eyes meeting him.

Everything melted away, until it was just the two of you, sharing a look that said nothing in the world mattered more than the person standing in front of you. You barely registered the words "Kiss the bride." Except Michael wasted no time pulling you into his arms and kissing you passionately in front of everyone.

He pulled away after a long moment, and rested his forehead against yours. Flowers rained around them and the guests hollered, but all he saw was you. "I told you, I'd be here for a long time." You held his face in your hands, giddy from the surprise.

"I'm never letting you go again." He kissed your nose.

"You won't have to." You whispered and pulled him into another romantic kiss.