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Royalty AU - Chapter 2: "The Weight of the Crown"

It was a cold morning, the kind that swept in with the faintest mist at dawn, yet the palace was alive with activity. The courts buzzed with talk of political intrigue and upcoming ceremonies. Anne, the young Princess of Agendora, walked through the palace halls, wrapped in the heavy velvet of her royal attire. The grandeur of her existence was a constant reminder of what was expected of her: perfection, poise, duty.

But none of it felt as important as the silent conversation that had lingered between her and Marcy.

Her heart had softened the moment Marcy stepped into her life, the moment she saved Anne from danger during an attack on the kingdom. Marcy was fierce, reliable, and strong—everything Anne wasn't, or so she believed. That moment, with Marcy standing protectively over her, arms steady as a knight, changed something inside her.

Yet, as the weeks went on, Anne’s thoughts never strayed too far from her knight’s tenderness, the way Marcy looked at her with quiet understanding in her eyes.

Today would be different, though. Anne had decided it. She had to confront it, face what had begun between them before it spiraled into something they couldn’t undo.

---

Anne’s Perspective

As the morning passed and the hustle of royal life continued, Anne found herself alone in her chambers. She stood at the grand window overlooking the palace grounds, watching servants and guards rushing to and fro. For all the external chaos, her mind was locked in one place: Marcy.

Anne hadn’t realized how deeply the knight had claimed a space in her heart. It wasn't just admiration; it was something much deeper, something that tethered her to the moment their fingers brushed, to their brief yet intense conversations. The way Marcy looked at her wasn't with the usual respect one would show a royal. It was something more intimate.

Marcy had never treated Anne like royalty—not with distance, not with reverence—but with a fierce protectiveness that went beyond duty.

She’d tried to shake it off, tried to convince herself it was nothing. But now, standing there, the words bubbled to the surface, and Anne knew she couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

“What do I even say to her?” Anne whispered to herself, though the answer seemed so clear. But something about it—the idea of laying bare her heart to someone she looked up to so much, someone who had fought to protect her time and time again—terrified her.

Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the window. It was a feeling Anne had never had, not in all her training, nor in all the pageantry that surrounded her royal life.

---

Marcy’s Perspective

Marcy was across the courtyard, sharpening her sword. The sunlight filtered through the mist, casting long shadows on the ground as she repeated the familiar motion. Despite the beauty of the setting, there was nothing peaceful about the storm within her.

Her heart was chaotic.

No matter how hard she focused on her training, her thoughts always returned to Anne. It was like a phantom ache—a connection that pulled at her chest every time she looked at the princess. Anne was beautiful, but it wasn’t just the way she carried herself with grace and dignity. It was something softer, something beneath the surface that Marcy saw in her eyes: a quiet longing, a loneliness that mirrored her own.

But they were from different worlds. Marcy was a knight, sworn to protect. Anne was a princess, expected to rule and marry for alliance, for power. Even the hint of the forbidden feelings stirring within Marcy was a risk too great to entertain. She wasn’t blind to the consequences, the repercussions of her feelings.

But when Anne looked at her the way she did, as if the weight of the crown might lift for just one fleeting moment, Marcy couldn’t ignore the rush that ran through her veins.

She finished the last of her training and made her way to the royal chambers, her heart pounding as the hour approached. She wasn’t sure why—perhaps it was the weight of her responsibilities, or perhaps it was the strange, shifting air between them—but something was pulling her towards Anne’s chamber.

---

The Meeting

The doors to Anne’s chambers creaked open with little sound, and Marcy stepped in, her usual composure slightly rattled. Anne was sitting at the edge of the balcony, her gaze lost in the expanse of the kingdom.

“Your Highness?” Marcy said softly, standing at the threshold. She hesitated.

Anne looked up, her eyes locking with Marcy’s, filled with something akin to surprise and relief.

“Marcy, I…” Anne began but trailed off, unsure how to voice the swirling thoughts in her mind. How could she put into words what had been growing in the silence between them? The reality was overwhelming.

“Your heart is heavy,” Marcy said quietly, stepping closer, almost as if she knew what was unspoken. “I can see it. Every time I look at you, there’s more burden in your eyes.”

Anne swallowed hard. "I don’t know what this is... What’s happening between us. All I know is that when you’re near me, I don’t feel so... lost." Her voice cracked at the last part, and her guard—her regal composure—was gone.

For a brief second, she could have sworn Marcy’s chest tightened, her lips parting in surprise.

"You don’t have to carry the weight of your world alone," Marcy whispered, taking a slow step forward until there was only a breath between them. “Let me help you bear it.”

Anne closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, locking her gaze onto Marcy with an intensity that sent a shiver down the knight's spine. “Marcy, I…”

But before Anne could finish, Marcy closed the distance between them, her lips touching Anne’s in a kiss that was both tender and desperate.

Anne froze for a moment, but then, without thinking, she leaned into the kiss, responding with the same fervor, as if she’d been waiting for this moment to shatter her composure once and for all.

---

In that single, stolen moment, the line between royalty and knight blurred—both of them finding something far deeper than what their worlds had ever demanded of them. Both of them had been waiting for this, perhaps without even realizing it, but now, in each other’s arms, they understood one truth that could never be undone:

There was no turning back.