A Blue Prince To Own, Chapter 7
“You’ll be treated as royalty.”
Those were the first words he said to me when I wasn’t caught in such unawares, when I was walking around and all my reactions caught up to me. Which, when they did, I threw myself into his arms (fast reflexes, he caught me and spun me around, laughing and smiling so wide) and cried for four solid minutes. Just now, I’m realizing how much I really cry, and I’m not even going to try to deny the fact that I’m a cry baby. That’s what I was known for doing at the Garrison.
Anyhow, I’m currently walking by his side as he shows me around the ship, or at least the parts he deems matter to me. The parts I’ll spend the most time in. Which includes a huge, spacious bedroom that we will share (he explains that he wanted so desperately to give me my own in case I wasn’t comfortable sharing just yet, but he was too paranoid I’d simply disappear in the night or get kidnapped; I almost cried again, he’s so protective and cute), an equally luxurious bathroom, a dining room not unlike the one back at the castle, and a… classroom. With one, measly student desk. I lift an eyebrow at the Prince, who flushes an adorable shades of slightly darker purple.
“I know it seems cruel, but… well, if you are to be my Consort, it only seems appropriate that you be properly educated on Galran culture, lifestyle, written language and the sort. A lot of it has been altered in the last ten thousand years since the tragic war on Altea, but it’s irrefutable that we’ve adapted a lot of our values and customs from them. We were once at peace and almost merged as one.” He looks hopeful when he speaks of this, passionate. My heart flutters pleasantly.
“What stopped you from doing that? Wouldn’t it have opened so many doors?” I prod, admittedly in an unwise manor.
I can tell right away I should’ve kept my mouth shut because his entire face pales like he’s seen something traumatic, his golden eyes grow wide as saucers, and his ears sag. My breath catches in my chest, apologies already racing up my throat in a tangle, but he immediately bounces back with a catlike smile and a hand ruffling my hair. I loosen up a bit.
“That’s what the lessons will be for, my Blue Prince.” He informs, gently taking my hand in his. I take a step further and lace our fingers together giddily, expectantly. Lotor flushes as he continues the tour.
There’s also a library (ew, no), a kitchen (God, if only I could cook), and a training room (even more ew, no). At the end of the tour, he leads me back to our bedroom (I feel so excited to share something with him, to own something with another) and explains that there will be tailors coming in ‘on the morrow’ (note to self, teach Princey slang) to take my measurements so that proper clothes can be prepared. For now, I’ll have to make due with his own clothes, since he claims commoner clothes should never touch my body again.
“Only the best, my beloved Blue Prince.” Lotor chimes as he sifts through his huge closet, plucking out a single blue sweater and a pair of white shorts for me to change in to.
I… I’m self conscious. I’ve never really enjoyed changing clothes in front of others, except for Hunk and some of my siblings. I know my body isn’t the ideal. I’m not thin, or elegant, or delicate. I’m bony and skinny, with collarbones that stick out too much and hip bones that could poke someone’s eye out. It feels stupid just thinking it, there’s people like Hunk who struggle to accept themselves because they think they’re too fat and then there’s assholes like myself that complain about being too skinny.
At this point, I’m just going to force myself to get it over with, but then there’s gentle purple hands cupping my face and tilting my head up so that my eyes meet golden ones. He says he can sense my discomfort and that I should never force myself to do anything that I don’t want to here. This is a place that is safe for me, free of worries, stresses, or anything that will ever cause me to be unhappy. All he wants for me is to live comfortably.
I change in the bathroom and feel like I’m walking on freaking air.
He’s so… respectful. He knows about boundaries. He’s not offended by my need for privacy at all. It’s weird, to be respected so much. The concept is baffling, I’ve spent months mostly around other obnoxious teenagers and prude (albeit unintentionally) high status royals. Of course, I know I’m not exactly as well mannered as it gets either, but this is all just… Lovely. The fabric is softer than anything I’ve ever worn against my skin, like super fluffy cotton, though the shorts are at risk of slipping off my hip and the neck of the sweater is falling around my shoulder. I almost begin to frown, but then I sigh happily, observing myself in the mirror and clutching the hem of the blue sweater in my hands. It’s his clothes and that makes me feel… so comfortable.
When I walk back out, he immediately steps over and smoothes out a fold on the sweater, hand straying over my chest. “So gorgeous, even in clothes that don’t fit you.” He says in awe. “I cannot wait to spoil you with gifts and jewelry!”
As I’m about to respond, there’s a brisk knock at the door and the neutral look of content on Lotor’s face hardens. “State your business.” He snaps, looking quite annoyed. So displeased at his time with me being interrupted… dang, I feel in love.
“Apologies for my interruption, your highness, but your meal has been prepared.”
Unlike the dining room back in the castle, this one is done in the traditional dark, luminescent purple and black shades most all things Galra appear to come in. There’s guards stationed at the door, and I’m just now seeing this all in a new light, more confused to ever as to why someone of such a high social ranking would ever spare me a second glance. He offers me a seat right beside him and I plop down gracelessly, not even earning a hint of a grimace. Back at the castle, the entire table would’ve groaned.
I rub my hands together in anticipation. “So, Princey, what’re we having on this fine evening? If you say green goo, I might choke myself with these sweater sleeves, just a warning.” I send a wink in his direction.
“I would certainly not enjoy that.” He says seriously and his obliviousness is too cute to face palm at, so I just smile. “Good thing my servants made special arrangements for your arrival! So that you may enjoy the Earth cuisines you claim to miss so dearly. Pizza and creamed ice, I believe you called them?”
“You’re so sweet!” I gush, looking down at the plate that is placed before me by a Galra soldier. “Dude, it’s been so long since I’ve eaten good.” I pick up a slice of pizza and kiss it, the grease painting my lips shiny.
Lotor simply looks at me like I hung the moon in the sky and I feel like I could really, really use him for a second until there’s nothing left. I shake the dark thought out of my head as he replies a soft, “Anything in the universe for you, my Blue Prince.”
A feeling in my stomach stirs. That this is good, but there will always be balance in the universe, that this amount of good will be accompanied by an eventual whole lot of bad. Rationally, there’s a part of me that cringes hard at the thought of servants someone of royal status could essentially bend to their will so easily, that we’ll live comfortably up on thrones build of the labor of others. I came from a poor family, where we simply learned to live without, where most privileges were too costly for us, but we still have each other, which had been good enough. Money doesn’t buy happiness and maybe the same applies to royalty, and there are people working to keep me happy. It is, essentially sick, not in a way the heir to the Galra throne would understand because it is his norm.
Nevertheless, seeds of gluttony and sloth are already planted in me. Five sins to go, I guess, but I’m wearing a Prince’s clothes, my Prince’s clothes, with guards at the table ready to die protecting me, with food I haven’t seen in months making me drool. I gorge myself, feeling stomach expand as Lotor watches me with eyes so love sick, I wonder if he’s just so fatally obsessed with me, I wonder if he’ll fucking die for me. Matt said I was a good guy, doing some bad things. Maybe I am. But, this is the good life, and I’ll do anything to keep it in my grasps. Lotor, pinned beneath me, like the puppy he is. Maybe I love him.
Maybe, I just own a cute dog, as of today.