but the door swung open, and a vaguely familiar man answered — security? or staff? — ariel’s gaze already flew over his shoulder, desperate of a morsel of something remotely good. “beau? it’s me—” she called out, calling upon everything she had to keep steady. “i just... i just want to see him for a second—” the words now directed at the man in front of her, eyes still fixated on a spot over his shoulder. “—just a second, then i can leave.”  ( @beaudebelgique​ ) 

“isn’t it time for you to ask me to dance?” ariel shot the belgian prince a wide grin as she extended her hand towards him, half in jest but half terribly serious. “quick, we’re in between all the reel dances, i’d love to join in on those but i’d look too stupid!” ( @beaudebelgique​ ) 

some would say that italian summers were too hot and overrated, but as ariel let her lashes fan across his bare shoulder, she scarcely remembered the feeling of discomfort. it didn’t matter that they had to sneak around her family, his wife, and every other person who would recognise her as a savoy     her nondescript little villa on the outskirts of catania was hers alone. a place she used to focus on writing her next novel, without any distractions. that was, until he crossed the threshold for the first time and made the place theirs, and what a welcomed distraction he became! ariel woke him with a series of soft kisses up his arm, each more insistent than the one before. “this is the last chance you have to stop me from working on my pages.... so you better wake up!” ( @beaudebelgique​ ) 

"oh." she hadn't pictured him in the threshold of her casablanca villa. it was one of the few places in the programme that hadn't been infused with the memory of him — somehow she thought that she would be safe in this place that she claimed for her own. "when they told me i had a visitor, i didn't think that it would be you..." it had been close to a year since they've seen each other in person, and enough time for her to feel as if she could face him again. however, the mere thought did not prepare her for the actual man standing before her — ariel suddenly realised that she did not feel anywhere close to ready, at all. "come in, i'll . . . i was making coffee, i'll pour you a cup." @beaudebelgique

breathless after a dance with a charming icelandic duke, ariel found reprieve in a champagne glass that she downed in almost one go - before letting her eyes fall onto the figure standing innocently enough on the other side of the bar. “beau!” an inquiry for a dance might not be appropriate, given the recent circumstances in brussels and the lingering memory of the last time they had took a turn on a dance floor. her mind whirred with excuses as she traipsed her way to his side. “are you drinking? i think i could use some fresh air, how does a cigarette sound?” ( @beaudebelgique​ )