#hamilton reader

you were scrolling through your phone, trying desperately to calm down. you were trending on twitter along with some of your costars, and you flicked your thumb up and clicked on something random on the trending list, assuming you would just see a bunch of tweets about bitcoin or something that you didn't care about.

instead, the first tweet was from someone you had never heard of. "@ tommyinnit have you seen hamilton?" you clicked out of it, expecting to see the tag was about the show, when in reality it was about the person who tweeted. wilbur was his name, and according to the trending page, he had done a twitch stream and sung one of the songs. you hestitantly went back onto it, slightly curious. you'd never heard of this guy, but from the videos he seemed funny, goofy in a slightly awkward way. one of the responses - the top one - was a reply from tommyinnit himself, though you had no idea who he was either. it was a picture of wilbur with another guy, presumably him, with the hamilton sign in the background, waiting to get in their seats. "no, only lame people go and watch musicals."

"hey," one of the stage hands touched your elbow gently. "we got you another mic set, we got six minutes until curtain, eight 'till you're on. we got this," you helped as she undid your blouse, unhooked the mic, and you spent the next few minutes on a walkie with some of the tech crew making sure it was working properly." you had just done the top of your dress back up when you heard the opening notes play, you taking your position sidestage.

wilbur was wedged into a seat between tommy and jack, wishing he'd accepted niki's option of swapping seats. she was with ranboo, tubbo and shubble over near the aisle, while they were right in the middle. since it was opening night and the show was overwhelmingly popular, they hadn't managed to get seats all together. luckily, they could sit in groups of three, with phil and kristin sitting a few rows back. but unluckily for wilbur, tommy wouldn't shut up.

the lights were dimming, and he had to elbow the blonde boy in the rib and gesture to the stage so he didn't get shushed by someone nearby. the opening notes began and will finally allowed himself to feel excited. he watched as all the familiar characters came on, finally getting the visuals to accompany the soundtrack he fell in love with. burr, laurens, lafayette, mulligan before finally alexander hamilton himself. the only reason he knew who anyone was before their names were said was literally because he had listened to it so much he could tell their voices apart without the visual component.

you glided onstage, beige skirt billowing out as he started singing, and wilbur found his eyes glued to you. you were in the background for most of the opening number, except for when you interacted with hamilton.

tommy jabbed him in the rib, wiggling his eyebrows as he tilted his head towards you. you weren't in the first few songs much, except in the rafters, but wilbur watched you. finally, the first parts of your song came on, and he sat up straighter as he watched you and your two sisters come on.

the show was incredible, he knew it would be. the way you all moved around the stage, with the music vibrating through his hands resting on the armrests. the music, the atmosphere, the acting, they all enhanced the experience of something that already brought wilbur a great amount of joy. but when he watched as the dancers surreptitiously picked up the paper they'd thrown everywhere until the stage was clean except for you, a fake stone bench, a lantern and a bucket. he had goosebumps, watching tears roll down your cheek as the paper in your hand burned, flames slowly growing. you threw the letter down into the bucket, grabbing your long skirt and marching to the front of the stage.

he could even hear tommy and jack's breath hitch in their throats as you belted. it was a sad song, of course, but you made wilbur want to go and punch the guy who played your husband.

"she's good," tommy commented. all wilbur could do was nod. he was almost relieved when you finished your last note, not wanting to see you so heartbroken. his relief only lasted for one song, before suddenly the lights snapped down and you let out distraught scream, watching as your son died in your arms.

he was crying, jack was crying, even tommy was sniffling. the rest of the show was more political, thankfully. but for the last song, watching you stand centrestage with the entire cast behind you as you sobbed, wilbur was already mentally searching for tickets in his mind.

after that, they went to mcdonalds, tommy's phone sitting on the table vlogging them. "what did you think, will?" niki nudged him gently with her elbow.

"mhm" will looked distractedly into his fries. "good,"

when she didn't reply, his head snapped up. niki sat across from him, eyebrows raised. his cheeks burned as she laughed, not meanly, and he hoped desperately that tom would have the tact not to put that in the video.

he did eventually get three more tickets for two days later, and phil and kristin agreed to go and see the show again with him. this time he was able to focus on you in the background more since he'd already see the show.

your costume, a billowing blue dress, made you look absolutely gorgeous and will couldn't take his eyes off you. your character had one of the saddest arcs and his heart broke whenever tears welled up in your eyes. he was never able to cry on command, and the fact that you could filled him with admiration.

now, you didn't recognise everyone. you'd seen literally thousands of people over the last three days. but you saw wilbur. it helped that you already knew who he was (you'd stalked his instagram after opening night), but you noticed him the second time he came.

and the third time, a week later. it was a big theatre, but somehow your eyes zoned in on him.

perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part, but he'd made eye contact with you twice. he'd followed you on twitter after that third show and almost had a stroke when he saw you follow him back.

over the next month, two things happened:

1. he went and saw you two more times

2. phil tweeted "@ wilbursoot are we streaming tonight or are you going to watch hamilton for a sixth time?"

he'd laughed, scoffing at phil's tweet, ready to type up the site to find tickets and take a photo to continue on with the bit. then he saw your reply.

"@ wilbursoot if you're not already sick of the show, i might be able to get you some free tickets?"

-

6:24.

Six minutes until John would come home.

You were absolutely terrified. You were going to tell him. You weren't sure how you were really gonna do it. Were you just going to break it to him over dinner? Just go up to him and say, "Heyyy... welcome home! Also, I'm transgender. Would you like to sit down and eat?"

No, that's ridiculous.

6:25.

Another minute passed, and you still weren't sure what to do. You were freaking out. What if he kicked you out for being such a freak? It also didn't help that you still hadn't even confessed your feelings for him at all. What if you found out and then realized that you, a boy, had feelings for him? He would be so upset with you.

You didn't even know if he liked you back. If he didn't, he would be disgusted by you. And even if he did like you back, maybe he wouldn't seeing that you were a freak.

6:26.

You bit your lip, taking in your surroundings again. You were on the couch, the television on. You weren't even looking at what was on; you were still panicking about your coming out to John.

John... John was your best friend. John had been with you since freshman year of college, yet now, senior year... You had a realization midway of sophomore year and you realized that your gender wasn't what it was on your birth certificate. You still hadn't even told anyone, but you knew you had to tell eventually.

Maybe you should just put it off. Until tomorrow. It wouldn't matter anyway. You needed to get yourself together before you could even try to tell him anything.

It was just so hard trying to see what was the point. You didn't want to do this at all. Maybe you could just keep this a secret for the rest of your life.

6:28.

You cursed. You didn't think time would pass by so quickly. It was two minutes until John would come home, and you still weren't sure. Maybe you could just put it off.

You were just terrified of his reaction. He was one of your best friends, along with the rest of the Hamilsquad.

The Hamilsquad... you hadn't told any of them. Alex might be supportive, but you still weren't sure. You thought once that you saw an LGBT+ pin on his backpack, but you weren't sure how'd he react to you being transgender. Hercules and Lafayette might not understand at all.

You couldn't lose John. That's all you knew.

6:29.

You shook your head. You had to do it tonight. You had put it off for years, and you had to do it. You needed to say it before the pain of hiding this secret enveloped you.

The door opened.

John...

"Hey, [B/N]!" John called out. "I'm back!"

"Yeah, I noticed!" You yelled back sarcastically, and reached for the remote control to turn off the television. Your chest tightened and you coughed to hide it.

Before you knew it, John had plopped down onto the couch, and put his arm around you.

"How's my best friend doing?"

"I don't know, ask Alex if you want to know." You said before you could censor the words coming out of your mouth. You were always like that, teasing John about how he was just living with you. The entire Hamilsquad were best friends, but you like to joke that John liked them better than he liked you.

"I see how it is." John scoffed, getting up. "Call me when you're feeling less salty, okay?"

"Hey, shush!" You pulled him down by the shirt sleeve, and he let you do so, falling onto you like a sack of potatoes. His back was on you and you felt the breath getting knocked out of you. "Hey! John, you bastard! Get off me!"

"Uh... no."

"If you don't get off right now, John Laurens, I will not make you dinner."

The minute those words came out of your mouth, John immediately got off. His face was red, although you weren't sure if it was because of what happened right now, or something else.

"Rude." John said simply as he walked into the kitchen.

You sighed. How were you going to tell him? You didn't want to ruin your dynamic. Even if he was okay with you, he might be a little awkward around you, and you didn't want to ruin your best friend dynamic.

You decided to go into the kitchen, and he had his back to you, facing the counter. He was messing around with the things that you had prepared for dinner. You sat down at one of the high chairs at the table, and watched John fumble around.

"Hey, this looks like a pretty good pie. What is it?" He laughed, bringing the plate to your face. You looked up, and he was right in your face. He was standing on the other side of the table. He looked into your eyes as well, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. His eyes were almost sparkling like stars, and his freckles flowed under the kitchen light that was right above him. His curly hair looked like a mess, but no one could say that it wasn't adorable.

Right at that moment, you knew that you couldn't hide any longer. He was your best friend. You loved him. You loved him so much; you couldn't stand it any longer. You had to tell him.

"John."

He nodded.

"I'm transgender."

John blinked several times at what you said. Your eyes drifted down. You didn't want to look at John now, especially if there happened to be a heartbroken look on his face.

The plate of pie was dropped onto the kitchen table and you heard him step back. He hated you now, didn't he? You should have waited for it, you should have waited for a better time, and you shouldn't have told him at all.

"How long have you known?"

You looked up at John, who said those words. He was facing the counter again, his back towards you. His head was down, almost as if he didn't have the energy to raise his head.

"Sophomore year." You whispered, but you knew that he had heard you.

The room became totally silent. You felt the tears well up in your eyes. You knew that if John kicked you out, you'd have to find someone to take you in.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

A tear dropped down your face.

"I... I'm sorry. I just... I didn't want you to freak out."

You collapsed down onto the floor. You should have waited. You needed to leave; you couldn't handle this. It was okay. You could just leave, and you didn't have to bother John anymore. You didn't need to talk to the Hamilsquad anymore. You could live without them. You didn't need friends anyway.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around you. You struggled, and tried to get out of that tight grasp. The arms squeezed tighter around you and you gave up. You were grossly sobbing at this point.

"I'm sorry that you thought I'd react negatively," he sighed. "I didn't think you'd be afraid of me. [B/N]- well... what's your name?"

"... I was thinking something like... [F/N]..."

"Okay." He got up, and pulled you up with him. You were hugging John in the kitchen now, the food left forgotten. John nuzzled his nose onto your hair, and you sniffed.

"John... I..."

"Shh... [F/N]..."

John led you slowly to the couch, and you both sat down there. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pat your head.

"It's time for re-introductions, isn't it?"

"What?"

"My name is John Laurens in the place to be!"

He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you raised your head. John's eyes were wet, too, and you suddenly felt bad.

"Look, [F/N], I..." He stopped suddenly, and you stared at him. You let out a breath you weren't even aware you were holding.

"I... I've been hiding this for a while... but I love you." He averted his eyes. "I thought I was crazy for liking a girl... but... now I know..."

"What?"

"[F/N]... I'm gay."

"Oh..." Your heart did a flip. Would he like you then? Or maybe he wouldn't, seeing that you're trans.

"I'm gay for you."

His lips were on yours suddenly, and the world around you seemed to disappear. It was cliché, but you think you could feel it in your heart that you two were meant to be. It was perfect, just the way it should be. You wouldn't have it any other way. You kissed him back fervently and everything was right.

“(Y/N)!”

Speak of the devil.

You turned around, bracing yourself as John Laurens himself walked up to you. From 10 feet away, you could already smell the vodka on him. Nevertheless, you put on a tight-lipped smile and said, “Hey, John. You having fun there?”

He didn’t answer your question. Scanning you with intensity, he said bluntly, “You’re so beautiful.”

You took a step back, surprised. “Excuse me?”

John plopped onto one of the barstools, not breaking eye contact with you. “I said, you’re very beautiful. So much that you don’t even notice. I can assure you that I notice, (Y/N). See, that’s the problem! I can’t stop noticing.” He flung his hands through the air as he talked, then sighed, seemingly frustrated by your good looks.

Meanwhile, you were standing before him, dumbstruck. He’s drunk, (Y/N), you reminded yourself. He’s drunk and he’s rambling and he won’t remember this in the morning. Still, you took a seat next to him, hoping he wouldn’t remember how red your face probably was right about now. He held your gaze, a stupid grin on his freckled face. Damn it, he’s pretty. The pretty boy is calling me pretty. Oh, damn, I’m screwed…

“(Y/N), are you okay?” His slurred words brought you back from your thoughts. You smiled, nodding your head slowly.

“I-! think so….” Don’t get attached (Y/N), he doesn’t mean this, he doesn’t love you, are you kidding? He’s drunk… You willed your thoughts to shut up so you could actually think straight. Suddenly, a piano riff filled the small bar and John leaped up from his seat like a little kid.

“(Y/N)! It’s my song!” he said excitedly as you giggled.

“It is?” you said, amused. “I never knew you were a Journey fan, Laurens.” He ignored your sarcastic comment and enveloped your hand in his. You prayed he couldn’t hear how loud your heart was pounding.

“C’mon!” Before you could stop him, John had dragged you out onto the small dance floor in the back of the bar.

“John-” you began to protest, but he just spun you around, laughing.  You could feel your face grow red as he snaked a hand around your waist, his body pressed flush against yours.

“Just a city boy- c’mon, (Y/N), live a little!” He spun you around again, this time letting you go.

“Born and raised in South Detroit,” you sang loudly, smiling back at John. He had a point - even if there was no alcohol in your system, you deserved to let your guard down and live a little. You two danced the rest of the song, laughing and singing the classic at the top of your lungs. Sure, you turned a few heads (and not in a good way) but dancing with the love of your life was worth it. Three minutes later, you two collapsed onto stools, breathing hard.

“That- was- amazing,” you said between breaths. John was sat there in silence, staring at you, the dumb grin back on his face. A bit creeped out, you asked, “Laurens? Are you alright?”

“Marry me.”

Whatever the hell you were expecting him to say, it most certainly wasn’t that. All of a sudden, the man’s eyes widened and he leaped off the stool - much less excited than last time.

“Shit- Oh, shit, I- I’m sorry-” He stopped, his hands frozen in midair. “Did I say that out loud?” Swallowing, you nodded your head.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did.” John paled, and he seemed to sober up instantly

“(Y/N)...” he said softly, coming closer and placing a hand lightly on your shoulder. Before he could say anything else, you cut him off.

“Did you mean it?”

He look at you curiously. “Mean… what?”

“All those things you said before. Were they true? Do you think I’m beautiful?” He still looked confused, so you shrugged. “You seem more sober than you were 10 minutes ago. I’m just wondering.” Still, he said nothing. By now, you were pissed. “Oh. Okay. I get it. No, it’s fine.” I knew it, he was drunk, he doesn’t love me, how could I have even thought… The room seemed to spin. You vaguely remember pushing the door to the bar open to be greeted by the cool night air on your face. You were walking, but you didn’t know where you were going.

“(Y/N)! No, wait!” You whirled around, livid. Laurens skidded to a halt in front of you, panting.

“What?” You spat. “Have any more lies to tell?”

“(Y/N), you don’t understand. I-”

“I think I damn well understand! You-”

“I meant it.” You froze. “I meant every single word. Hell, I only had two shots tonight. In Laf’s book, I’m sober.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing - this couldn’t be real. “(Y/N), from the day I met you, you have proved to be the most amazing woman I have ever known. Everyday, I wonder what the hell I did to deserve meeting a girl like you.” He took your hand in his now, as gentle as ever. “I- I think-. No. I know. I love you, (Y/N), and I just wanted you to know that.”

Time seemed to come to a halt as you leaned and pressed your lips against his, enveloping the two of you in a sweet kiss. You rested your forehead against his when you parted for air. “I love you too,” you whispered to him. John stepped away, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“You do?”

“I do!”

John whisked you up in the air and spun you around. You swatted at him playfully as he set you back down. Laurens grabbed your hand, and you let him whisk you away for the second time that night - this time back into the bar.

 You trailed behind the servant that guided you and your parents through the endless corridors to the dining hall, stomach churning. Your parents’ advice was plaguing your thoughts, the weight of their words making your feet feel heavy. You were too distracted to notice that you’d arrived at the entrance to the dining hall until you hear the call of the herald announce your presence.

Behind the curtain of your parents, you saw him.

Prince Lin-Manuel was slouched against his seat with his legs crossed, his crown sitting crookedly on top of his head, a wicked smile on his lips.

You wanted to punch his pretty little mouth to wipe away his arrogant look.

A soft pinch to your side jolted you back to reality, and you realized that his Majesty and the Queen were looking at you expectantly. As you curtsied in greeting, you see Prince Lin-Manuel rise from his seat. “Thank you for your extending your hospitality to my Father and Mother,” you said, hoping they did not hear the quiver in your voice.

“Nonsense,” King Miranda answered, lips lifting up in a smile, “it is only right that they have the best accommodations until the wedding.”

“And your sisters? When are they expected to arrive?” Queen Miranda asked, her soft voice a stark contrast to her sharp features.

“The last I’ve seen of them were their backsides a month ago,” Prince Lin-Manuel interrupted, pausing to make sure he’d gotten your attention, “leaving King and Queen George’s wedding celebration with my Princess in tow.”

You wanted to wrap your hands around his neck, throttle him until his skin turned blue…

“Well now your Princess is back in your arms, my son,” your Father laughed, clapping Prince Lin-Manuel’s back as he shook his hand.

You knew that your parents loved you, your doting Father especially, but at that very moment, his words made you feel hollow. You felt like a commodity, a worthless thing that was simply sold and traded for something much more precious. You may be his flesh and blood, but your Father’s loyalty was to his nation. He was willing to do anything and everything to save it.

“At least try to contain your delight, Princess,” Prince Lin-Manuel crooned, noticing your silence. He reached for your hand and pressed a gentle kiss against your skin, maintaining eye-contact all the while.

Your arms hung against your sides, limp. “I feel ill,” you muttered, eyes lowered to the ground.

You feel the piercing gaze of your mother upon your frame, yet you refused to meet her eyes. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You wanted your bed, your myriad of pillows, your sisters, and your favorite meal from the cook back at the castle. You wanted to be back at home.

“The journey here must have taken its toll on you,” Prince Lin-Manuel said, “if you’d excuse us, I’d like to show my bride-to-be to her room so she can get some rest.”

Four pairs of eyes landed on the two you.

“How kind of you,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes.

He held his arm out for you to take, unbothered by his Father’s lack of response. Your urge to leave the room outweighed your distaste of the Prince, so you eagerly took his arm. He grinned, leading you out of the hall and back into the maze of corridors.

“Through these doors are the library,” he said, pointing to a large wooden door with intricate designs carved on the surface. He led you to further down the hall, stopping right next to another door that was much smaller than the last.

“Believe it or not, there is another door behind this door. My Mother believes that it helps insulate sound,” He leaned forward, lips barely brushing against your ear, “but it doesn’t. I checked. Thoroughly.”

“Get off me, you swine,” you snarled, jerking away from him.

“I was merely speaking about my instruments, your highness,” he grinned, “I have a habit of playing piano at odd hours of the night. My Mother, the light sleeper that she is, would wake at a single key being played.”

You crossed your arms and huffed. “Would the next stop be my room, by chance? As lovely as this tour has been, I would like to see my bed, Prince Lin-Manuel.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Prince Lin? Though I suppose given the circumstances, Lin would be more appropriate,” he said, taking your arm and looping it back around his. He left his hand resting on your arm, applying a firm pressure to ensure you wouldn’t try and escape him again.

You dug your nails into his arm as hard as you could, but he continued, unfazed.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked once you realize that the two of you were making your way towards the open fields surrounding the outskirts of the castle.

“To end my lovely tour,” he said, using your own words, “I thought I’d show you something very dear to my heart.”

You eyed him quizzically when he stopped in the middle of a field. Was it his harem? A line of courtesans that heeded his every beck and call?

He lets out a sharp whistle, raising his index finger to tell you to wait when you looked at him incredulously. He whistled again, the loud sound ringing in the open air.

You open your mouth, ready to reprimand him for wasting your time when you heard it: the steady thump of something hitting the ground. It was approaching the two of you at a speed that was too fast for a human being.

You shrieked, the sound so un-lady like that would surely make your instructors cringe, when a grey and white ball of fur lunged for your legs. Something wet brushed against your ankles and out of instinct, you reeled backward. You almost lost your balance, but luckily, Prince Lin-Manuel was quick to react, his hands reaching for the middle of your back to help steady you.

“Tobi, you old dog,” he laughed, crouching down to restrain it from springing towards you again.

You looked down at the mutt in terror, it’s red eyes looking up at you eagerly as it struggled against Prince Lin-Manuel’s hold. “What is that – that – ”

“It’s my dog, Tobi,” he answered, reaching into the pockets of his pants to pull out what you assumed was a treat. He lets it hover over Tobi’s face (you let out a sigh of relief when it’s gaze shifted to it) and ordered it to sit.

“She’s been my companion since I was a child,” he explained, tossing the treat to her once she obeyed, “I stumbled across her when we were visiting one of the impoverished villages. The poor thing was riddled with fleas. It took me weeks to cure her.”

You took an involuntary step back when she moved and the astute Prince Lin-Manuel was quick to notice.

“Are you afraid of dogs, your highness?” he asked, chuckling.

You watched Tobi with wary eyes as you moved around to hide behind Prince Lin-Manuel. “I’m afraid that this phobia of mine is a new discovery for me as well,” you confessed, “My family has never owned a dog.”

“Tobi can be a bit of a handful at first,” he hummed, stroking behind her ear, “but I’m sure that you’ll learn to love her. You’d have no choice nonetheless, seeing as you’ll be here for a very long time.”

His statement resonated with you, causing your stomach to twist uneasily. You were going to be here for a very long time. “I’d like to rest now,” you said softly.

Prince Lin-Manuel lets out a sigh, quietly whispering orders to the whimpering Tobi. “Come, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

This time he lets you walk behind him, the silence deafening as you follow him, leaving the still whimpering Tobi behind. He led you up the grand staircase and to the entrance your room. “Your things are inside,” he said, prepared to leave you be. “Welcome to my kingdom, Princess Y/N. Sleep well.”

The second you closed the door to your room, you flung yourself on the bed and mourned your life that you knew would never be the same.

 Your second day was even more eventful that the last.

You tossed and turned in your sleep. True to Prince Lin-Manuel’s word, the sound of the piano could be clearly heard through over the two doors that protected it. Though perhaps the sound of the lullabies by Beethoven and Chopin would be soothing to others, it was a constant reminder that you were not within the walls of your home. Even before your new retainer entered your room to introduce herself the next morning, you were already yawning from the lack of sleep.

Not having enough time for pleasantries, she quickly drew a bath and helped you into your day dress, the cream color accentuating the color of your skin. She tried her best to conceal the bags under your eyes, but it was fruitless. Deciding not to waste any more time, she ushered you towards the dining hall, where the court, your parents, King and Queen Miranda, and Prince Lin-Manuel were awaiting your arrival.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” you said, curtsying before settling down your seat next to your mother, directly across from the Prince.

As breakfast progressed, you were introduced to the courts one by one. The elder’s eyed you carefully, and you fought the urge to squirm in your seat from their judging gazes. They had been cautious with the treaty from the very beginning, especially since you were the youngest in your family and seen as unfit to rule. But King Miranda had the final say. They asked you questions about policy-making, networking with foreign diplomats, and even plans for an heir in the future. You answered their prodding questions as concisely as you could, despite a headache forming at the base of your skull.

They warned you and the Prince that the public was unaware of the details of the treaty, believing instead that by the stroke of luck, the two of you had fallen in love. The talk of a possible war along with the concern of famine would cause riots to spread across the country. The courts wanted the two of you to parade through the nation before and after the wedding, spreading love and calming the worries of the people.

You barely had enough time to breathe before you were ushered into a different room, an office of sorts, where a line of men and women interrogated you about the details of the wedding. Your Mother and Queen Miranda were beside you, ogling and quarreling over two fabrics that were similar of color that would be made as the tablecloth for the celebration.

“I think the silk is lovely,” your Mother proposed, “the material is soft and elegant.”

Queen Miranda hummed her disagreement. “But the Taffeta’s Egyptian Blue color is that of the Miranda household – a fitting color for the festival.”

You stared the at the different fabrics, not seeing a difference between them.You were caged up in the room for what felt like an eternity, choosing colors, fabrics, and flowers for your wedding. Much to your distress and grief, it was not how you pictured your wedding planning to be. You wanted your groom, a groom that you loved, to be beside you. You wanted his help, to perhaps bicker about the difference between cotton and silk (where he would concede to you), and most of all, to feel the excitement for the big day. Instead, the feelings of fear and dread were consuming you.

“Princess?”

“Perhaps you could craft a silk tablecloth with this hue?” you suggested to the couturier.

“Your wish is my command, your highness” he answered, bowing in his seat.

You let out a deep sigh of relief when you saw the women beside you relax. Despite the civility between them, you felt uncomfortable with their bickering. “May I suggest a break? I would like a breath of fresh air.”

Queen Miranda smiles. “What a splendid idea. It is time for afternoon tea.”

You inwardly groaned, wanting to retire to the peace and quiet of your dormitory. “That sounds splendid,” you replied, smiling through your lie.

Afternoon tea was quite an affair. A table was prepared in the middle of an enclosed garden, the tray full of sweets and pastries calling your name. Over the course of the break, the Queen insisted you and your Mother tell her stories of home and family. It did not calm your longing for home. It fact, it made it even stronger.

A meandering Tobi found his way to the table, and much to your relief, the Queen halted all talk to pet the dog. Tobi then proceeded to sniff your Mother’s dress curiously, and then as if noticing your presence for the first time, bolted for you. You drew in a sharp breath, clutching the cup of tea tightly in your hand as you willed yourself to remain poised. You discreetly jerked back your leg when her nose brushed against your ankle, and let out a nervous laugh.

Tobi drew back, looking up at you expectantly, wagging her tail back and forth as she panted.

“She must think highly of you,” the Queen commented, laughing slightly.

You gave her a tight smile, and not wanting to transgress her, you quickly patted Tobi atop her head. She visibly beamed and then plopped down by your feet, and you inwardly wince when you felt the material of your dress begin to moisten from her slobber.  But perhaps Tobi’s interruption was a blessing, for the Queen began her stories of Prince Lin-Manuel’s adventures with the dog.

Good girl, you thought cheerfully, perhaps you aren’t so terrible after all.

 It was in the middle of choosing the design for the cutlery with your Mother and the Queen that you realized you hadn’t seen any of the royal men since breakfast. As a matter of fact, you had yet to speak with Prince Lin-Manuel since the night before.

Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Prince Lin-Manuel peered inside the office, grinning. “Care if I steal my Princess from under your noses?”

Your mothers share a look before approving.

He strolled into the office, giving you a chance to study him. He was pleasing to the eyes, that was for sure. His tan coat paired nicely with his cream vest and white undershirt, and with his hair pulled back away from his face, he looked quite regal.

“Well?” he prodded, offering his arm to you.  

How was it that every time you needed rescuing, he was there? Choosing not to linger on the thought, you wound your arm around his and let him escort you out of the room.

“You look tired, your highness,” he hummed as you strolled through the castle.

“I had a restless night,” you answered truthfully, “It seems that I have yet to adjust to your home.”

“How appropriate. My plan for today was to show you the rest of my kingdom,” Prince Lin-Manuel said, smirking, as he leads you to the familiar clearing from the night before.

“I’ve already seen the garden. It is much more beautiful than any that we have at home,” you said, confused, once he started to tug you further towards the wooded area of the clearing, “when I have the chance, I will request the Queen to accompany me and… Where are you going?”

You trailed off when he released you and dashed through a wall of shrubs. When didn’t to return, you panicked and followed after him. “Prince Lin-Manuel,” you gasped when you saw him push against a metal gate on a section of the brick wall that bordered the castle, “what are you doing?”

He cursed under his breath and moved to another gate. “I seem to always forget which one of these is the exact one,” he muttered, pushing against the railings. He shook his head in disapproval and then shifted his attention to the adjacent gate.

You watched, stunned when he lets out a yell of triumph as the metal gate swung open.

“Why do I have the feeling that you’ve done this before, Prince Lin-Manuel?” you regarded him warily when he turned and beckoned you to come closer.

The wicked smile was back on his face. “Because I have done this before.”

“I am not risking the chance of leaving the estate, Prince-Lin Manuel. If we get caught, my Father would be furious. I see no point in this idea at all.” You crossed your arms across your chest, staying rooted to your spot.

He gave you a long look before replying. “I know that you’ve done nothing today but plan for our wedding, Princess Y/N. I thought escaping from the confines of my over-bearing Mother would be a nice change. It will be brief. You have nothing to worry about, I will keep you safe. I give you my word.”

For the first time since you’d met him, he truly looked like the twenty-three-year-old Prince that was groomed to be the future King of his nation. His sincerity astounded you and he was right; you were tired of the non-stop decisions for the wedding. A short break wouldn’t hurt. Plus, you couldn’t ignore the zing of excitement that came with your opportunity to explore the land outside the castle walls.

“Alright, but just for a moment,” you said, brushing past him, “and if I decide that I want to return, we must do so. Immediately.”

He chuckled, jogging forward to keep the metal gate open for you, and bowed in agreement. “As you wish, my Princess.”

The two of you walked side by side and you listened enthusiastically to him as he pointed out flowers and insects you’d never seen before. “You’re afraid of my dog, but not a bug, your highness?” he joked when you stood on your toes to watch as a spider skitter up a tree. When the sound of rushing water caught your attention, he gladly led you to the source, laughing when you ran forward to touch the water in the creek.

“Your Father was right,” Prince Lin-Manuel mused, “you are a free-spirited soul.”

You turned to face him, wiping your wet hand on your dress. “You’ve spoken about me with him?”

“He said that you were always the odd one. Too outspoken, too brave, too daring to be a Princess.”

“He’s never told me that before,” you said softly at the revelation.

“Your Father regrets that he’s forced you upon this arrangement. But as King…” he trailed off and looked away.

“It is his duty to protect his people,” you finished. The mantra had been instilled when you were young.

Prince Lin-Manuel sighed. “Yes, you are correct. You may not understand his actions now, but when we marry, we will both reign over our land. As King and Queen, we have to ensure our people are happy and prosperous.”

You turned somber at the thought of the wedding. “I’d like to go back now,” you whisper.

Another sigh came from the Prince. “Then let us head back,” he said, “I’m sure the palace is being combed by the servants in search of our presence.”

You nodded, silent as you followed him.

When you arrived at the castle grounds, he touched your arm for your attention. “Thank you for letting me kidnap you,” he said, giving you a kind smile, “However, I won’t promise you that it’ll never happen again.”

You scoffed. “I’d be disappointed if it didn’t, Prince Lin-Manuel.”

“Haven’t I told you to call me Lin?” he teases, batting his long lashes at you.

You crossed your arms, an action that you realized was reserved only for him, “I will not. I’d rather call you Prince Lin over that.”

“Well, it’s settled. From now on, you may call me Prince Lin.” he grinned.

He didn’t give you a chance to argue, nor did you have time to. The minute you stepped back to the clearing, your retainer spotted you and ushered you back to your chambers to help you prepare for dinner.

“If I may speak freely, your highness,” she whispered as she gathered your long hair into her hands.

You looked at her in the mirror. “Yes, you may.”

“I am happy to see that you and the Prince are very much in love,” she giggled, “There were rumors that the marriage was a pretense for a military treaty. But seeing the Prince look so fondly at you, my worries have vanished. I wish you and the Prince a very long and joyful marriage.”

You stayed silent, feeling numb.

The talk of a possible war along with the concern of famine would cause riots to spread across the country.

As King and Queen, we have to ensure our people are happy and prosperous.

“Thank you.”

 Every day for the rest of the week, Prince Lin stayed true to his promise, finding ways to sneak you away from your responsibilities. Whether it was well before sunrise, during the middle of the day when you were planning for the wedding, or at night – your favorite time since discovering your love of watching the stars you couldn’t normally see at home sparkle – he found a way to convince the people in the room to let you leave with him.

He played the piano for you, sang songs he composed, shared the books he loved to read, and even walked you through the garden, patiently answering your endless questions about the flowers you’d spotted during your first visit. You had even become accustomed to Tobi’s strange adoration for you. She’d come along your adventures outside of the castle, striding along your side, ignoring Prince Lin’s complaints of her being a traitor. She’d bring you trinkets to declare her love in the form of dead insects and animals… Though perhaps you still needed time to adjust to that habit.

The wedding was still a sensitive subject, but he learned to avoid it and if necessary, talk around it. It was strange seeing Prince Lin in this new light. He still had his flirtatious tendencies, something you were still cautious of, but you couldn’t deny his charm.

Today, there was a buzz in the air, the excitement for your sisters’ arrival adding extra life within the castle walls. A banquet was prepared and neighboring kingdoms were invited to celebrate the arrival of your family and the upcoming wedding.

You paced in front of the grand staircase, impatient. Your parents, along with Prince Lin’s, were at the castle’s gates, waiting for their carriage.

Prince Lin, who was dressed in his royal garbs, watched you pace from his seat on the staircase. “Relax, your highness. They’re expected to arrive soon,” he yawned, rubbing his tired eyes.

You glanced at him, noticing that the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent over the past few days. “Is something troubling you, Prince Lin?” you asked, stopping to give him a closer look.

His lips curved up in a sly smile. “The court has been upset with me as of late. Though it is nothing that I can’t handle. Are you worried about me, my Princess?”

You harrumphed and turned your back to him, crossing your arms across your chest. “You wish.”

He didn’t have a chance for a rebuttal because the doors to the castle opened, revealing your sisters in all their glory, your parents and the King and Queen following close behind.

You let out a girlish scream, running towards them as fast as your royal gown could let you. They meet you halfway, echoing your screams, and you couldn’t help but sob when both of their arms wrapped around you in an embrace. “I’ve missed you both.”

“Oh my darling sister,” your oldest sister, Margaret, cooed, placing a kiss on top of your head, “we missed you too.”

Victoria pinched your cheek adoringly. “The castle has never felt so empty as it does without your presence.”

You sniffed, wiping away your tears. “I miss home.”

Margaret smiled and took your hand. “Yes, and because of your act of courage, we will still have a place to call home for the rest of eternity.”

Your sister, the future Queen, was always the wise one. From her looks to her demeanor, she was a replica of your Father. She was always poised, calm, and collected, and obedient to the obligations of a leader. Her altruism continuously amazed you.

Victoria took your other hand gently. “Shall you formally introduce us to your future husband?”

You nodded, and the ever enchanting Prince greeted them with a bright smile. He kissed their hands and showered with them with compliments, melting away their initial distrust and suspicion.

You scowled at him over their shoulders when he made them both giggle. Your frown deepened when he offered them his arms, leaving you behind for the dining hall where the guests awaited their arrival.

King Miranda, who stood beside you, placed a hand on your elbow, shaking you out of your thoughts.

“Come, Princess Y/N. It’s time to properly announce the union of our nations. Remember to play the part of the loving wife.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded before following him on unsteady legs.

 After the introductions, toasts, and feast, the tables were cleared and the celebration officially began. Music filled the air, their alluring sounds inviting couples to dance on the ballroom floor, and luckily Prince Lin was whisked away by his Mother.

You’d spent most of the night by his side, welcoming and thanking guests for celebrating the occasion. Your cheeks hurt from the forced smiles and laughter, accepting the advice from women you’d never met about marriage, and making sure that you looked and acted like a love-sick fool around the Prince. While it was effortless for him to have his arms around you, to cup your cheek, and playfully toy with your hair, you had a hard time to naturally accept the acts of endearment. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the break.

You sat at the table, watching as women with beautiful dresses twirled around the ballroom floor, their movements in-sync with the music. Your break was short-lived when a man slides into the empty seat beside you.

“Evening, Princess Y/N.”

You recognized him as a member of the court. “Good evening.”

“Your sister and the Prince make a striking pair, no?” he hummed.

You followed his line of sight, feeling a pinch in the middle of your chest when you saw your laughing sister dancing with Prince Lin. Everyone within arms distance paled in comparison to the two. “I suppose,” you agreed.

“Your sister carries herself well,” he added, “she will make a fine Queen when the time comes.”

“Yes, I agree whole-heartedly,” you said honestly.

“So why did our Prince decide on you? Why was he so adamant that he that he be wed to you and not Princess Margaret nor Princess Victoria? You’re nothing compared to them. You’re brash and foolish. Would the future of our kingdom be really secure with an eighteen-year-old child by our King’s side?”

You stood, trembling as you fought back the tears from his insults. “Thank you for your kind words, dear advisor,” you seethed, “not only do you have the power of belittling others, but do you have the ability to read minds as well? I find that I ask myself that question every day. Why me? I do not want this marriage. I want to be home. I want a normal life, then perhaps marry a man that I do love.”

Furious, you spun on your heel, and headed towards the exit. Through your hazy mind and clouded vision, you spotted a door that led to a balcony. You gulped in the fresh air and kicked the barrier of the balcony, trying to calm yourself.

“What’s wrong, Princess? I saw you run out of the room,” Prince Lin stopped when he notices your tears. “You’re crying.”

You wiped away your tears that ran down your cheeks and remained silent.

“Are they tears of joy? Have you finally appreciated my good looks, charm, and wit, that you’ve fallen for me and realize how lucky you are to have me?”

You clenched your fists in anger. “Be serious for once, Prince Lin-Manuel.”

The playful expression on his face disappeared when you said his name. “Be serious?” he echoed.

“Why me? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be married to you.”

“You want me to be serious? My people are dying from starvation. Do you think I wanted this too? That I wanted to get married to a little girl that just cares about prancing around in dresses and whines when she doesn’t get her way? The last thing I wanted to do is to get married, but it is my duty as the future King to ensure that my people survive.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock at his words.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to make the best of this marriage, but every single time I get close to you, you push me away. I know you’re not that kind of girl,” he sighed, “The court has been pestering me more than usual as of late and I haven’t had much sleep because of it. I’m not thinking clearly.”

“No, you’re right. I am a stupid little girl that knows nothing about ruling. You should marry my sister, Margaret instead. You’d be perfect for each other.”

You pushed his hands away when he reached for you. You ran to your room, not caring if it was rude to leave the guests without a proper goodbye.

You laid in bed and wept.

For the first time in a very long time, you felt alone and helpless.