#morethanatitle

@morethanatitle​ “They fall in love? Or it is some sort of arranged marriage?”

‘It was more of a rhetorical question but yes, arranged marriages are the usual go. Unless you are a die-hard romantic which is an unfortunate thing to be. Better be a realist in this world and count your lucks, don`t you think?’ 

After  Esmeralda and Kursat’s first encounter in France, the two kept in touch the best that they could. Kursat wasn’t the best reader or writer, but to him it was nice when he received letters from her. The way she described the most simplest things showed she saw the world in a way he never could. Never would he have thought to meet up with her again, for the two were always traveling. With the rumors going on about Norway, Kursat was very busy. His nobleman was busy traveling from place to place concreting alliances and even though Kursat was along for each trip, he didn’t know himself what angle he was going for. 

For the time being the two were in Russia, which was one of his favorite places it the closest to home. And for some strange reason the stars were aligned that Esmeralda and her group were there also. The two had arranged to meet up before her performance, Kursat bringing Russian spices to pay her back for the first time and last time they had met. 

The moment he slipped from the castle, something didn’t feel right. The air felt still, suffocating, which was not home to him. It wasn’t long until he reached the village Esmeralda mentioned in her letters. He dismounted his horse, tying him to just outside. The place itself had seemed so small, almost reminding him of the places he grew up in. He was on such high alert, he had almost walked right past her. 

“My old friend” he said cheerfully even though his face did not match. “I can’t believe you are on my end of the world”

“Your Majesty, if I might have a word?” He approached from the side, making an obvious show of approach. “I would discuss something with you, should you deign to spare me your time.” 

He came to England a little unprepared. His English quite rusty he was lucky to go around with his French that was still in fashion enough to get him into places. Though as he had discovered, the streets of London were just as dangerous as those of any other big city and there his French would get him a fist in the face so he stopped saying words and started showing things with his things, adding Italian. It worked for him to pretend to be a merchant as many of his countrymen profited from doing business with England. At least they could do that. 

Kate helped him with ideas and while he loved all of them, it was not in her human powers to manage all his errands and he offered himself to go the seamstress {apparently a good friend, the best of the best etc.} and while she was mortified to let a king go into those parts of the city {which were by no means shabby but it was a lovely upper-middle-class area}, he told her that she surely did not mean to say he was not a man enough to set his feet on the soil where decent people walk and that he could survive with just one of his guard. So, he and Amaro were set on adventure. The two men were awkwardly lost in the lovely streets of London, already being slowly filled with life again after the devastating Plague. 

So when it usually happens {the cliche} as they were about to give up,both cursing in Italian. They were standing in front of the humble home of the seamstress whose name was Alina and both of them were secretly thanking God that they might have found the right one. A knock on the door should let them know. ‘Madona’, Robbie said, assuming the young lady was married. He was impatient and his tone was so but he corrected himself and smiled. He was not a king here, he was a simple merchant. ‘Miss Berkshire has sent me here as she claims you to be the best seamstress in London.’ He said in the best English he could produce.