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my-inner-crisis · 2 years

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Elucien Week Day 5: By Her Door

Princess!Elain/Guard!Lucien AU

Summary:

Princess Elain Archeron is under constant pressure to pick a husband, and not just any husband! As King Archeron's health deteriorates and two of his daughters refuse to marry for the kingdom's sake, Elain takes up the heavy burden: find a man of nobility who is rich and capable, marry him so he could be crowned king, and then birth a true heir, a boy, of course. Her love for her father and for her kingdom traps her in a hunt for a king, but her heart yearns for the young guard by her door who shows her the world as it truly is, outside of the gilded cage of royalty.

Notes:

My contribution to Elucien week 2022! A princess/guard AU. Hope you enjoy!

@elucienweek2022

This will be a two-parter and then I'm back to updating Liability :)

“Are you about done?”

“We just got here, Lucien,” Elain chided with a warm smile, her feet dangling from the short dock into the cool water.

“Two hours ago, Your Highness,” Lucien pointed out. By now his sleeves were rolled up, strands of hair had escaped the leather tie holding his hair back from his face, and his sword was left in its sheath in his horse’s saddle.

“You really wish to put me back in my golden cage, do you?” Elain questioned, turning her head towards her guard.

“Never, my lady,” he protested. “But you are missing lunch.”

“I’m not, you said you would teach me how to fish, and father is on the continent and the servants will not tell, and I am safe, guarded by my favorite guard, who is ready to give his life to save mine, even if the greatest threat to my life is accidentally falling into a lake,” she teased, turning her attention back to the water.

She had requested Lucien specifically to accompany her on her journey today. The captain of the guard didn’t ask questions, thankfully. He knew well enough that Lucien had become the favorite guard of the princesses. And how could he not be? Lucien was quick as a whip in conversation, well-read, intelligent, funny, and capable of anything. Elain had yet to find something the man couldn’t do. So, when her father had finally gone to the continent with his ever-so-large entourage, Elain and her sisters were happy to indulge in what the kingdom had to offer them. Nesta followed her youngest sister to some secret rendezvous point with the head of the bustling city-state of Velaris. Feyre had been sneaking around with that man for a while now. It was a scandal waiting to erupt into public knowledge. Nesta had claimed that she would be their chaperone, but Elain had the sense that her sister was also interested in something more.

She couldn’t bring herself to go with them. She knew exactly what she craved and it had nothing to do with Velaris, Rhysand, his scary-looking men, or sneaking around in a tavern with her sisters. Besides, Feyre said that it would be much harder to blend in if all three princesses showed up somewhere.

Elain didn’t need too much convincing. She had requested Lucien at dawn, had made the guard have breakfast with her, and she had asked to go fishing, to see nature, not people, not walls, not a town. Nature.

Lucien did as he was told, and then some. They rode out and circled the beautiful lake on horseback until he found the dock he had been looking for. Since then, Elain picked flowers, helped Lucien build a fire, laid out a large blanket and put her basket on top of it, dipped her feet in the cool water, enjoyed the sun on her skin, and told the guard to relax at least fifty times.

“You truly wish to learn how to fish, Your Highness?” Lucien asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t see why you’d ever need to fish.”

“For fun, Lucien, for fun and my enjoyment,” Elain waved her hand for dramatic effect. “As much as I love playing dress-up and learning how to manage a household and embroidering, I think it would be quite fun to do other things too. Such as fishing. And riding a horse the way a man does. You look much more comfortable than I do.”

“Well, I am not the one riding a horse in a dress, princess,” Lucien answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm and humor.

“I don’t think the dress is as big of an issue as the men make it out to be,” Elain shrugged as she stood up, placing her hands on her hips. “Teach me how to fish, and then to ride a horse properly, not like a lady.”

“Your father will have my head. Is that the goal?” Lucien asked as he took the two fishing rods off the horse. Elain beamed with excitement as he gave her one and explained what she was meant to do. “Keep in mind that fishing can be rather boring, you just sort of wait around,” he added with an amused smile.

“Well, it’s our lunch, so they better not make us wait around for too long,” Elain smiled.

“Cast the line, Your Highness,” Lucien smiled once he had attached the bait to her hook. He doubted she would be too delighted to touch the worms he had brought.

She certainly tried to cast. “Well… that’s not… good, is it?” She asked, glancing up at her guard.

“Certainly not,” Lucien smiled as he stepped closer to her. “With your permission, my lady,” he murmured as he grasped her hand over the fishing rod, guiding her through the movement. “Now, it’s the waiting game.”

“Well, you do it too, and keep me company,” Elain grinned, her excitement over such a mundane task growing with each second.

Lucien cast his own line out as well, watching the princess when he was certain she wouldn’t catch her.

She was the most beautiful out of the three stunning sisters, and she was his favorite. Alis, the old crone, had even warned him about it. Don’t you look at her like that, go look somewhere else. A pleasure hall would do . She was not wrong either. Forbidden fruit tasted the sweetest, but he enjoyed having his head on his shoulders. So he kept his glances short and scarce. To Alis’s loud dismay, however, the princesses seemed to enjoy his company, and Princess Elain had a particular affinity towards the young guard. He thought it platonic at most, and, in the least, he was easy to bribe with one of those doe-eyed stares the princess seemed to have perfected. It was a weapon sharper than any blade and it landed Lucien in situations such as this - fishing outside of the castle walls, away from Elain’s home, in some forest he knew of.

The princess held the fishing rod loosely in her hand, her eyes fluttering shut as she enjoyed the sunshine kissing her skin. Lucien could look at her unabashedly, and he certainly made use of the opportunity. She was the most beautiful person in the kingdom, in the world probably. Men would crawl at her feet after a glance. And they didn’t have the good fortune to hear her speak and laugh and make absurd requests, such as fishing lessons. If he didn’t catch himself soon enough, Lucien would drown in those emotions for her - admiration, affection, lust, you name it. And maybe he already had.

“Oh!” The princess yelped suddenly, gripping the fishing rod with wide-eyed surprise. “It’s moving!”

“That’s a good sign, Your Highness,” the guard chuckled fondly. “Just reel it in carefully, slowly, release the reel if it’s tugging too hard or the line will snap. That’s it, just slowly.”

“It’s going to pull me into the lake, Lucien,” Elain whined as she followed his instructions, keeping her eyes fixed on the end of the line in the lake. It indeed seemed to tug at the princess’s gentle hands quite harshly.

“You know what that means? You’ve caught a big fish, which means we’ll have enough to eat,” the guard encouraged, guiding her through the movements to drag the fish out of the water. When the situation became dire and it was clear that she wouldn’t manage on her own, Lucien was too glad to step behind her and move the fishing rod together with her. It was an added bonus that he could feel her so close to himself, inhale her scent of jasmine and honey and then step back when the fish was out of the water. “I ought to overtake from here, right?” He asked with an amused smile.

“You ought to, I’ll hold yours, maybe you’ll be lucky enough to catch something,” Elain smiled, pulling a face as Lucien unhooked the fish. “I think the rod is the best part.”

“Many people think so,” Lucien smirked, although the double entendre most definitely didn’t register. Women were raised in complete darkness about their bodies or the male bodies. Most respectable ladies didn’t even know what a penis was until they lay in bed with their new husbands. He made quick work of gutting the fish until Elain squealed again, reeling in the line with excitement.

“This one doesn’t seem as heavy,” she announced with infectious joy.

“Most people are happy when the fish is heavy, Your Highness,” Lucien laughed, eyeing her movements carefully.

“Most people also know how to fish. I need a nice little practice fish,” Elain dismissed with a tilt of her chin, much too wrapped up in her task to spare him a glance. Lucien monitored her movements carefully, smiling to himself when the princess managed to lift the fish out of the water.

“Look at you, a natural,” he chuckled, watching the significantly smaller fish dangle in front of her. “Well, come on then, grab it, you said you’d see.”

“Oh, fine,” Elain muttered, her determination building until her fingers made contact with the fish and she squealed yet again. “Oh, goodness, it feels so strange!”

“Keep doing that, you just keep screaming and someone will hunt me down, I’ll have arrows through my back like a porcupine,” Lucien joked but didn’t reach for the fish. Elain took a deep breath and took hold of it herself, giving it to the guard as soon as it was off the hook.

“No one will find us here, you said so,” she shrugged, watching with interest as Lucien worked.

“We will put them over the fire on sticks,” he announuced, much to the princess’s delight. She held hers over the fire with excitement, turning it around whenever Lucien so instructed. When the guard was satisfied that the fish had been thoroughly cooked, she dug through her basket, pulling out some bread, biscuits, cheese, wine, and a few apples.

“Alis packed them for me,” she smiled lightly. “I told her.”

“You told Alis about your secret escapade, Your Highness?” Lucien asked with a raised eyebrow. He was certainly grateful for the snacks, but if the king didn’t have his head, Alis definitely would.

“Of course I did,” she smiled, mischief glinting in her eyes. “Alis knows everything. And she had some choice words about you.”

“About me?”

“She said you’re a sly fox and I should keep my wits about me,” Elain answered primly right before she bit into the fish without any of the grace that would be expected from a princess. “I think you’re just swell though. And you should stop with all the titles, don’t you tire of them when there’s no one around?”

Lucien snorted, shaking his head. “Well, Your Highness, it is only proper to address you as such. But if you prefer, I can try not to, though you must know, old habits die hard.”

“You’ve only been on the King’s Guard for about six months, Lucien,” the princess pointed out as she ripped a piece off the loaf of bread. “I never asked you where you came from. You are very enigmatic.”

“Enigmatic? Me?” Lucien blinked.

“Well, you are highly educated, you can hold a conversation about anything, which I expect from nobility, though that may simply be my negative bias,” said the princess. “But you are also very worldly, you have skills that attest to the fact that you know how to survive with little. And you have a scar across your face, which makes you look infinitely more mysterious than you might truly be.”

“That’s because I am indeed a mystery,” Lucien winked. What harm could it do if he was honest? The princess didn’t seem like one to judge him too harshly. “I was born into royalty, sort of. I was raised by the Vanserras-”

“The Vanserras? The royal family of the Autumn Lands?” Elain gasped.

“Yes, those Vanserras, Your Highness, but as you can probably guess, I am not one of them,” Lucien shrugged. “My father, or I guess the correct term is step-father… Beron Vanserra was certain that my mother had cheated on him when she became with child for the seventh time. They have an awful marriage, and my mother, well, she had a serious suitor before she was shipped off to marry the King of the Autumn Lands. Her parents gave her no say in the matter, although she could have married a love match. And my fa- Beron is not a good man. Abusive, horrible to my mother, and us as well. But you could imagine, I was the worst thorn in his side. He only raised me because he couldn’t deal with the humiliation. If people found out that the queen had been defiled by some other man… you know how that goes. It’s not only her shame, but his as well.”

Elain only nodded, wide eyes glued to Lucien as she listened. She had never heard of a woman stepping out on her husband. Ever. She thought that was impossible. Men, certainly. It seemed to be the sole source of entertainment for many, even the most highly regarded gentlemen kept mistresses. Though she supposed it made sense. Those men needed a woman to sneak around with, and not all of them were courtesans and servants…

“So, I was raised between my half-brothers, I received a prince’s education, but I was raised knowing that I would be cast out as soon as it wouldn’t be considered a disgrace,” Lucien continued, his gaze shifting away to distant memories. “As soon as I turned eighteen years old, Beron ousted me, claiming some sort of irreconcilable sin on my part. I don’t remember what it was, and I don’t care. My mother smuggled me some gold coins and gave me some of her jewels to help me survive. So, at first, of course, I was lost, I just knew I had to leave the Autumn Lands to survive. I traveled for a long time, took odd jobs that paid awfully, but at least I got to see much of the world. I ended up in this kingdom when my money was running low. I loved your kingdom, I enjoyed living here, and I thought it must be fate when I saw the call for positions in the King’s Guard. It seemed easy enough, I had the skills, I knew how to do this, and I applied. I’ve been here for six months, as you know.”

“As I know,” Elain nodded, watching him as though he had told the greatest tale she had ever heard. “You’ve lived through so much already… do you enjoy being a guard for some princesses?”

“It is the best job I’ve had so far,” Lucien chuckled. “I’ve been an assassin, a wood logger, and I worked in an inn before. This is my favorite occupation.”

Elain smiled faintly as she finished her fish. “I’m glad to hear that, Lucien.”

The way back to the castle was spent in amicable silence. Lucien showed her how to ride her horse like a man and let the princess gallop in front of him, her hair whipping behind her in the wind. She was exquisite, so, so beautiful, and so hungry for adventure. He would give her whatever he could to see her smile so genuinely.

Their father was absolutely furious. Feyre had done the unthinkable, she had run away, with a man, no less, without any company, without a chaperone, without turning back. The King had been trying to set one of them up with Lord Tamlin. For a king with plenty of illnesses and without a male heir, the most difficult task was to find an adequate husband for his daughter, at least one of them, so he could take the crown and lead the country until a true male heir was born. Women couldn’t lead on their own. Lord Tamlin was wealthy beyond reason, handsome in his own right, fit for a king in education and breeding, and showed much interest in the youngest princess.

Feyre, the wild little thing, had taken a horse in the middle of the night and run off. She had told her father countless times that she would not be sold off to that lord, she would not be his queen, she would not be ruled over. And that she would marry Rhysand and become his equal and never look back on the archaic kingdom her father had kept.

She would never step foot in that damned castle again, she had sworn to Elain.

Their father had been shocked. But the worst of it came when Lord Tamlin showed up, demanding an explanation. He was clutching a letter written by Feyre. Elain could recognize the messy handwriting out of millions. Her baby sister had declared the same thing she had said to her father, but somehow this was even worse. She had gone into detail, she had given her maidenhead to her soon-to-be husband, no one could stop her, not unless the King wanted to ruin his reputation, she didn’t care at all for her own reputation, Velaris was her true home, and…

“ Lord Tamlin, you are a boring, irremediable ass, you are as interesting as paint drying, and trust me, I paint plenty; drying is the process no one cares about. I would never marry you in this life, or any other. I wish to never see your face again. Ever. ” The Lord had read it out loud, as though that would help his case. It didn’t. Elain could barely hide her amusement.

The King had jumped into damage control immediately, offering Nesta and Elain up for the Lord to pick. He would have married both of them to Tamlin if it were possible. Elain understood why, they needed a strong leader, but after such humiliation, it was no surprise that the Lord left without any marriage proposal.

So, naturally, the next season was opened by the grand announcement that the king was looking for a husband, for both of his daughters, as the youngest was already engaged; how lucky, how happy, how wonderful. No one in the Kingdom knew about Feyre’s rebellion, except for the Lord of Springfields, but he would not utter a word.

Thus, the frenzy began. Dresses were made, dancing lessons, etiquette, all sorts of cultural norms - and a lot of pressure on Elain’s shoulders. Her father had made it clear countless times that she was the most likely to attract a man who would be fit to be a king. Nesta… well, her father was certain that the oldest Archeron sister would not try, she would give every young man a hard time and no one would think of her fondly. Before she died, their mother had put the most faith in Nesta’s abilities to attract the right suitor and become queen. But now? Elain was not so certain.

As the first ball of the season approached, Elain smiled at her favorite guard. “Will you be in attendance?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Lucien laughed. “I will be on guard.”

“You will be working?” Elain frowned, disappointment plastered across her beautiful face.

“I will indeed be working, Your Highness, but even if I were free for the night, you would be expected to find a husband, not to dance with the help,” Lucien said with a small shrug. “I will be there in a corner, looking mighty serious.”

“Don’t you mind it?”

“What? Guarding the royal family? Not at all, it is what I signed up for, my lady,” Lucien promised. “Don’t worry about me, you should enjoy yourself, mingle with all the guests, they will all want your attention.”

‘Oh, certainly,” Elain huffed an agreement. “They can’t wait to see me sold off to the highest bidder.”

Despite all the protests, Elain was dressed in such finery for the ball, she could barely contain her excitement. Alis had pulled her hair back from her face but let her curls hang loose down her back. She put the blush pink gown on carefully and matched it with pristine white gloves. Taking the princess’s hand was supposedly a privilege, and wearing gloves to such occasions was the norm. Her mind drifted to the guard currently stationed outside of her door, the number of times he had taken her hand, ungloved, to give her berries he had gathered for her from a particularly spiky bush, to show her how to gut a fish, to take her riding through the gardens and sneak into the forest… She supposed that it didn’t count when touching each other’s hands was perfectly polite or reasonable. She had never felt any embarrassment around Lucien. She supposed that was normal too when a relationship was platonic and friendly. But she couldn’t help but wish the guard could dance with her instead of all the men gathered in the city. They were not here to get to know her, Nesta had expressed her dismay clearly. And she was not wrong. All these men were here to try their luck, to see if the King would select one to sit on the throne and become the most powerful man in the kingdom.

The thought made her shiver. One would think a princess was not as undermined by society. A princess was the creme of nobility, only the queen had a higher rank. Yet, here she was, rounded up and put on display like cattle. Elain schooled her expression into a warm smile as she entered the overcrowded ballroom, descending the stairs slowly, Nesta in tow. Everyone was looking. But as she scanned the crowd, her eyes settled on a figure by the balcony door. His gleaming red hair was easy to spot, even though it was pulled into a braid. Lucien’s eyes were on her as well and she could have sworn that she could see his lips part into a surprised o as he followed her movements down the stairs.

She had all the male attention she could ever desire on her in that moment, but no one made her feel as exquisite as Lucien did.

The princesses were introduced and they curtsied as expected, although Lucien could tell that Nesta would snap off any poor bastard’s finger if they approached her. She looked perfectly unattainable - mean, dangerous, and threatening. Elain, on the other hand, looked like a budding flower. Beautiful, inviting, the perfect wife in the making. Lucien’s fingers curled into a fist as he watched her. Any noble asshole could claim her tonight.

He stood still as he watched man after man ask for Elain’s hand for another dance and another, and another. Nesta only agreed to dance with one man, and she danced with him a few times. Lucien was not aware of his title or name, but from his looks, he could only be from Velaris. Feyre’s fiance led the city state but his famous inner circle included quite a few people. From the way the man was buil - too tall, muscular, his large calloused hands all but covering the oldest princess’s waist entirely -, he could only be captain of Rhysand’s army, the vicious Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian.

Good riddance , Lucien thought to himself. No one else had any chance to tame that wild horse of a woman.

The clock seemed to be dragging. Lucien had been on his feet by the balcony door throughout the entire event, watching the dancers in colorful dresses and elegant suits twirl around the large ballroom. Truthfully, he was getting bored. And slightly annoyed. It was too hot in there, there were too many people pushing past him, and every man seemed to be crowding around Princess Elain. She danced and danced until her dance card was full. Lucien was sure that she hadn’t skipped even one dance. By the time the clock struck twelve, signaling the end of the ball, he was tired and hungry, and his head was pounding. All he wanted was to bathe and enjoy some silence in his room.

By the time the guests filed out, Lucien was ready to jump off the balcony and run to the stables to sleep by the horses. But his night was not over.

“This seems endlessly boring,” Elain murmured as she approached him, her cheeks wonderfully flushed. She was holding a small plate with a piece of cake on it.

“I can’t complain, Your Highness,” Lucien answered with a smile as the princess handed him the piece of cake.

“At least enjoy that, it is delightful, and you’re all but done here, aren’t you?”

“The servants and guards leave last, but they are stripping the tables already, so we are indeed almost done,” Lucien nodded as he took the tiny silver spoon.

“You say you can’t complain, but I shall in your stead. It would at least be fun if the guards could come dance as well,” Elain hummed. “I saw you during the ball, you seemed exasperated sometimes.”

“That is my lack of professionalism, Your Highness, and it shall never happen again,” Lucien promised but it only made Elain giggle.

“I am certainly not scolding you, Lucien,” she laughed, tilting her head back so, so wonderfully. “Even I was getting bored, I had no time to breathe. Look at my dance card!” She waved the small piece of paper still hanging from her wrist.

“Well, did you at least dance with anyone worthy of you?” Lucien asked with an amused smile.

“No, no one in particular,” Elain shrugged, those beautiful brown eyes meeting his own. “I would have loved to dance with you but instead you had to stand here like a statue, guarding a door.”

Lucien was pretty sure that a blush crept up his cheeks but he kept his eyes on his cake, his lips tugging into a smile. “Maybe some other time,” he hummed, chancing a glance at the princess.

“There will be need for music, so that shall not be easy, but maybe we can sing some songs, it is not impossible,” Elain grinned.

“Princess Elain! I am not standing around for a moment longer, it is almost one in the morning and I am old!”

Lucien’s head whipped up to see Alis staring daggers into him. And him only, of course. He raised his eyebrows defensively as Elain apologized and made her way out of the large ballroom. Alis lingered for a moment, her stare fixed on the guard. Her brown eyes didn’t promise warmth and comfort though. The brown of Alis’s eyes conveyed the cold, dark earth she would personally bury him under if he ever looked at the princess again.

“I will pummel you into a pulp, young Lucien,” she threatened, staring him into the ground. How did he become five inches tall? The old maid was short and usually sweet and nurturing like a mother hen. But her threats? Those were to be taken more seriously than a declaration of war.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Of course you didn’t, you sly fox,” Alis countered before turning to follow the princess up to her room.

“Lord Graysen! Father wants me to marry Lord Graysen! Do you know who Lord Graysen is?” Elain groaned.

“I do, Your Highness,” Lucien agreed, cautiously. Once again, he found himself in a situation worthy of Alis’s wrath, in the princess’s room, definitely not outside by her door. He was sitting on her bed, which was certainly large enough to keep a reasonable distance. But he was sitting in the princess’s bed. Alis would kill him.

“Well, then you know that his only redeeming quality is that his father is rich,” Elain sighed, throwing herself back into her pillows with a deep frown. “I hate him.”

“You don’t hate him,” Lucien smiled.

“I do. And I do not wish to marry him, and I would not mind if his horse kicked him in the face on his way here,” Elain answered, pouting those pretty lips. “He shouldn’t die, of course, I am no monster. But he should be inconvenienced enough to skip our meeting this afternoon.”

Lucien laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I shall keep my fingers crossed.”

“You know what’s the worst part of it all?”

“What is it, your highness?”

“That I am only meant to marry him so he can sit on father’s throne until I birth a son who is going to be the true king. And if I don’t have a son?” Elain groaned. “Mother never had a son and she died before she could try again.”

“How about Nesta? She is the oldest,” Lucien asked cautiously.

“Haven’t you heard?” Elain sighed.

“I have not, my lady.”

“Nesta is following in my sister’s footsteps. The lord from Velaris, Cassian asked father for her hand in marriage. And father, of course, said no. Cassian is not of nobility, he is not even close to it. He is Rhysand’s childhood friend, an orphan without any title to his name,” Elain explained with a shrug. “He doesn’t even have a proper last name, only that which marks him as a bastard. He is a general of the largest army on the continent, and he is Rhysand’s right-hand man. He is certainly not a horrendous pick. And Nesta… well, she is exquisitely and deeply in love with him, even if she pretends to be, mind my tongue, a cold bitch towards everyone.”

“So? Will she marry him without your father’s blessing?”

“Not quite, or… not like that. She is less dramatic compared to Feyre. But she wants to renounce her title and basically leave the same way Feyre did. So, you know what that means?” The princess held up three dainty fingers, closing the thumb, then the middle finger. She wiggled her pointer finger before she turned it towards herself. “I shall be queen mother.”

“That is terrible, Your Highness, I am sorry to hear that,” Lucien answered honestly.

“What can I do? I don’t have a love match to run to, to be taken care of and appreciated and sheltered from the world,” Elain shrugged, turning her attention to Lucien. “And I don’t have the heart to kick and scream and make a fuss. I should be married anyway. It’s what women do. And someone has to be queen mother.”

“You could at least take your time to find a good match,” Lucien muttered. It seemed like sometimes his life outside of nobility was freer than Elain’s, who seemed to be trapped in a golden cage.

“There is no time, I am twenty years old, and… Nesta says that we need wealth brought into the kingdom and with father’s illness, it is becoming more and more imminent to find someone. She says that father’s physical health is deteriorating fast… She is right too. He is ill, and old, and tired. And I guess he just wants to make sure his kingdom is in good hands.”

It made perfect sense, Lucien supposed. The strongest financial connections were built around arranged marriages. And Graysen’s father was one of the richest men on the continent. They had an entire fleet shipping goods between various continents. Putting the royal seal on that would certainly enrich the kingdom in more than one way. And someone who could manage a giant business would likely be fit to handle a kingdom.

“And Graysen, you don’t like him?”

“He is a fine enough man, but he is so boring, and so cocky, he thinks he is the most interesting man in the room while he is just as boring as I am,” Elain shrugged. “Rich, born into nobility, never had a struggle in his life, yet he thinks he invented conversation.”

Lucien chuckled, watching the princess sprawled out on her bed without any decorum. She shined this way.

“You know what the worst part is? I have no idea how babies are made. We are never taught it, we are just told that the man will give us a baby,” Elain sighed, her gaze shifting towards the ceiling. “All I know is that I’d have to share a bed with that man, and probably be naked. And the idea repulses me.” She winced as her eyes shifted back to Lucien. “That isn’t normal, is it?”

“What isn’t? That you’re repulsed by him?” A muscle flicked is his jaw as the guard watched the princess. “It is normal, but it is not ideal.”

“Oh.”

“Not that way, Your Highness,” Lucien added immediately. “Of course you are not attracted to some pompous asshole chasing your skirts for the title of king, who you’ve never met before, who you don’t desire. It is perfectly normal not to want to lie with a stranger. And it is not ideal at all. Ideal would be to find someone and marry them for your happiness. That includes desire for them as well.”

“Oh,” Elain repeated again, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink, similar to her gown. “Can you tell me how babies are made? I know men usually know.”

“Me?” Lucien blinked, his heart hammering away in his ears.

“Well, if it’s no trouble,” Elain shrugged. “Feyre is together with that man but she never told me anything, and Nesta, she just shushes me. And Alis speaks in riddles. I thought you needed to be married, but that certainly is not true, is it? Men leave servants and courtesans with child plenty of times, and they certainly aren’t married.”

“You don’t need to be married, your highness, it is something your body can do once you start your cycle,” Lucien answered, trying his best to keep his voice calm and even. “Of course, there is no need to rush a young woman to start having children at such a tender age. That would be cruel and unethical, you are a child yourself. But it means that you can have children.”

“I gathered as much, but I had no idea why…”

“Conceiving a child is easy enough,” Lucien continued. He couldn’t handle the princess’s stare. She was watching him with such curiosity, his stomach fluttered in response. She was beautiful and curious and innocent. And he was a fool, a moron, and an idiot for indulging her in such conversation. “A man has to lie with a woman, and yes, usually nakedness is preferred. The idea is basically to put your privates together, that is the crudest way to explain it.”

The exasperated arch of her eyebrows gave her away.

“A man is different, as in we have something else between our legs, compared to women,” Lucien explained patiently. God Lord, what did he get himself into? “A man’s penis is this shaft that is meant to slide into the woman. That is sex, in the crudest terms. Conception is when a man releases fluid into the woman, and that fertilizes her.”

“That sounds endlessly boring and embarrassing,” Elain complained.

“Oh, Your Highness, it is not, I assure you,” Lucien smiled lightly. “It is a pleasurable experience, it is something couples are usually happy to partake in, just like when you do it alone and it is a pleasing experience.”

“You do it alone?”

“You’ve never done it alone?”

“Done what?”

Lucien gaped at her.

“Done what? Do not embarrass me, Lucien,” Elain pleaded, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of pink.

“Touched yourself?” Lucien questioned incredulously.

“Touched myself?”

“Yes,” he nodded, watching the princess’s blank expression. If it weren’t so tragic, he could have laughed. “Between your legs, your highness. You can explore yourself down there, and it feels rather pleasant.”

“But it’s dirty and there’s nothing pleasant about it,” Elain frowned. “Are you mocking me, Lucien?”

“I promise you I am not. I would never.”

“Then why would I touch myself there?”

“To experience pleasure that you can simply do for yourself, anytime you wish, it is not a sin, or illegal, or anything, Your Highness,” Lucien answered, certain that his own cheeks were turning redder by the second.

“This sounds ridiculous,” Elain protested, her eyes settling on Lucien once again. “And lying with your husband,” she barely whispered the next word, “ sex , that is meant to be a pleasing experience too? I thought it hurt and it was just… something you did for your husband, as a woman.”

“Only a pitiful lover hurts his partner and doesn’t please her as he should,” Lucien countered, probably too quickly.

“So you’ve done it before?”

“Yes.”

“And you have children then?” Her voice nearly reached a shriek.

“There are ways to do it and not have children, Your Highness,” Lucien answered. “You can do it just for pleasure, for fun. You just need to use protection and caution, such as not releasing inside… It’s like picking flowers or looking at beautiful art, we do that for our pleasure too. This is simply more intimate.”

“And alone? Why do you do it alone?”

“You enjoy looking at beautiful art alone, no?”

“Fair, the princess conceded. “If I try it and find out you’re pulling my leg, I’ll tell Alis.”

That was no joke of a threat. “I am not pulling your leg, my lady. I never do.”

He had not been mocking her. After a night spent alone in her room, under the heavy duvet, earnestly exploring her body, Elain could barely look at the young guard. Too many flashes of his handsome face had followed her tentative movements. He had not led her astray. But he was also a gentleman and he asked no questions when he saw her take her seat in the dining hall.

One thing was certain. Princess Elain Archeron would not marry anyone she didn’t love and would not lie with any man who she didn’t care for. Not for the sake of her father, the kingdom, or anyone. All of them would wait until she found her match.

Rhysand had made an offer King Archeron could not refuse. All he needed to do was let his eldest daughter marry Cassian, the Lord of Bloodshed. The city-state the young ruler led was terrifyingly well fortified, occupying fruitful land, and a merchant network spanning every continent. There was no question about the King’s answer.

The next wedding ensued, much more formal than Feyre’s escape, even though Nesta had given up her royal title. If she wanted to leave, she would leave without it and become nobility in whatever state Rhysand led - that was her father’s idea anyway. Nesta received a generous dowry, of course, fit for a princess. Feyre hadn’t even taken her dowry, and she still refused.

And now, only Elain remained.

The princess glanced out of the carriage with a curious smile. She had received permission from her father to go visit her sisters, with the right escorts, of course. She had personally requested Lucien. And of course, he was approved. The young guard was on good terms with everyone, including his captain and the king himself. But with Lucien came the coachman, a talkative man in his forties, Alis, who would dress her and act as chaperone, and another guard, Andras, a young man who was good friends with Lucien. All these people, just for her to travel a few miles and spend time with her sisters.

“How much longer?” She asked the young guard who was dutifully riding his horse next to the royal carriage.

“We should be there by dinner, Your Highness,” Lucien smiled lightly.

“Why did they have to pick such a far-away location to settle,” the princess grumbled. The ‘there’ Lucien referenced was by no means Velaris. It was a manor that belonged to this or that marquis, a summer home they could settle into for the night. A princess couldn’t just waltz into any tavern. She certainly wished she could though. And then a plan materialized itself.

By the time they arrived, the sun was indeed setting. The small village seemed quiet enough but Elain noticed a tavern, she saw people sit outside in front of it with some drinks, and she even heard music. When the carriage pulled into the large drive of the manor, Lucien opened the door for her and helped her out of it. This was her chance, before Alis could hear her.

“Come to my room after dinner, please,” she whispered, offering her a mischievous smile. Lucien kept his composure and only nodded his head a fraction of an inch before he uttered some platitudes about welcoming the princess to Evergreen Manor.

He would have to say something to Andras, they shared a room. But that could be a problem for the future. Instead, as the princess requested, he was at her door after dinner, once Alis was certainly in bed. He only knocked once before the door swung open.

“Come in, hurry,” she whispered, ushering him in. If anyone saw them like that, she would certainly be ruined. But the entire thought only crossed Lucien’s mind for a second, too wrapped up in the moment to reconsider his actions. Besides, he had spent plenty of time in her room at home.

“What is the commotion about, Your Highness?” He asked with an amused smile.

“I wish to go out, to the tavern, to drink an ale, and have some of the food I saw them eat, and I heard music, there was music, Lucien!” Her excitement was palpable.

“You want to go… out to the village?” He blinked.

“Yes, obviously, will you take me? I’m too nervous to go alone, but if you take me?” Elain mused and those beautiful doe eyes were on him, pleading, seducing, getting exactly what she wanted from him. “If you take me, I’ll be safe, and we can have fun together.”

“You really do wish to see my head on a stake, don’t you?” Lucien teased but there was no denying her, not when those eyes bore into his soul and her lips formed such a beautiful little pout.

“No one will know, I even found this dress,” she waved her hand frantically towards herself as she spoke, “it will do, I’ll wear one of your cloaks, it’ll cover it. And it’s a rather simple dress anyway, it will blend in. And we can take your horse. I was thinking maybe your friend’s horse too, but I’m not the strongest rider, so yours should do.”

“You worked it all out, did you?” Lucien teased, but truthfully, her plan seemed fine enough. Unless Alis planned to check on the princess in the middle of the night for whatever reason, there should not be any problem. The villagers wouldn’t recognize her, they were far enough outside of the capital.

So, within ten minutes, Lucien was helping the princess over his horse before pushing himself behind her. She was giddy with excitement, and it was certainly infectious. He had wrapped her in his cloak to hide her dress, which was simple, certainly, but still clearly a noblewoman’s attire. The tavern she had spotted was only a few minutes away.

Elain grinned happily and held on to the bridle, even though Lucien was in control of the horse. She was never wild like her youngest sister, but her excitement and pure joy was a sight to behold. She whipped her head back every now and then, her hair falling off her shoulders in thick curls. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were gleaming even in the dimness of the evening. Lucien made sure to lock that image of the princess into his heart for a day when he could no longer sneak her out of the confinement of royalty.

When they finally arrived, he helped her off the back of his horse and off she was, happily strolling towards the tavern. She had been correct, someone was playing the fiddle and maybe a flute. Lucien followed the princess in, glancing around the tavern until he found a table towards the back of the room.

“Take a seat, I’ll be back. You wish to drink an ale then, really?”

“Yes. And maybe have something to eat, I barely ate a thing back at the manor,” Elain answered quietly, as though she was letting him in on a secret. “Something smells divine in here.”

Lucien made sure she was seated before he purchased everything the princess desired. He took the shepherd’s pies and the ales in two comically large wooden mugs. Elain gaped at them.

“People drink this much? Just with dinner? This seems very excessive,” she hummed as she pulled the large mug to her lips.

“It doesn’t have too much alcohol in it, so it is rather easy to consume copious amounts before you ever feel yourself get drunk,” Lucien explained with a smile. “However, I am most definitely cutting you off after you’ve consumed half of that, princess .”

A shiver sneaked up Elain’s spine. This was not the usual nicety, the teasing tone, the lazy smile… she took a swig of the ale, to taste it, and to hide her blush. “Well, I shouldn’t embarrass myself, even if the people here don’t know me. So don’t let me make a fool of myself,” she hummed, trying to oust all the images she had conveyed about him late at night while she had been listening to his advice.

“I would never, you know that,” Lucien smiled easily as he took a swig of his own drink. “This is shepherd’s pie, it is a little bit of everything, with lamb. Cheap to make, very filling, absolutely delicious. Eat, it soaks up the ale.”

So she did. She drank and ate food she would never taste in the castle, she watched men and women enjoy themselves, sing and dance together with the musicians. The atmosphere was so much freer than the stuffy balls her father made her attend. Soon enough, she was singing along with the songs. It didn’t take long for her eyes to drift to Lucien once again.

“This is the perfect opportunity to dance,” she pointed out with a smile. “It isn’t a ball, there is music, and no one will give us a second glance.”

“Would you like to dance, princess?” Lucien asked with that lazy smile of his. God, the way he said it…

“Why yes, I do,” she nodded, getting to her feet instead of letting herself dwell on the guard’s magnetism.

Lucien smiled and guided her hands over his shoulders, resting his own over her hips. “This is not a waltz, so we don’t do that stiff pose, it’d make us stick out like a sore thumb,” he explained, tilting his head to reach her ear. Elain knew her entire body was covered in goosebumps as his breath caressed the shell of her ear. When did he become so irresistibly lovely?

“No stiff poses,” she agreed, letting Lucien lead her.

There was no dancefloor, no ballroom, and not many dancers to begin with. Only a few couples embraced one another. The music was wilder, more alive. It conveyed so many emotions, it could be heartbreakingly sad and then switch to a savage lilt, reminding the princess of shimmering, fast-moving rivers. She held on to Lucien, her body pressed against his as they moved together, swaying through slower songs and twirling around during the faster ones. She burst into laughter multiple times as the guard dipped her and twirled her around him, letting the music guide their movement without any restraint. She only hoped the night would never end.

But it did end, at four in the morning, when the musicians put their instruments away and the innkeeper started ushering the patrons out. She was still holding him as they left, keeping her arms wrapped around his middle. Lucien kept her tucked into his side, his arm draped over his shoulder as they made their way towards his horse.

She nearly fell asleep, leaning into Lucien’s warmth as they rode back to the manor. He shushed her a few times as he led her upstairs to her room.

“This is yours,” he murmured with a small smile, opening the door for her.

“Thank you, for taking me,” Elain said, still holding on to the guard.

“It is always my pleasure, Your Highness.”

“Not princess?” She challenged, mischief glinting in her eyes despite her tiredness.

“You like it when I call you princess?” He shot back, and there it was, that half smile, the one she pictured late at night in the privacy of her room.

“And what if I do?”

“I might call you it more then, princess.”

She pushed herself on her tiptoes then. There was no turning back. She pressed her lips firmly against his, kissing him quickly. She had never kissed anyone before. A surprised oh left her lips as the guard pulled her back, deepening their kiss with a hunger she had never experienced before. He had told her about desire for her partner, the importance of it. She hadn’t really grasped it before. But as her entire body burned for him as Lucien kissed her, she finally understood.

He pulled back a few moments later, his thumb caressing her cheek gently. “Goodnight, Your Highness,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Lucien,” she answered, tilting her head to press a whisper of a kiss over his hand just as he pulled back. As she closed her door, she knew, she would never settle for anyone but him.

“You are insane.”

Lucien nearly jumped out of his skin before his mind caught up with his body. It was only Andras.

“You were out, with the princes? If Alis herself doesn’t kill you, her father definitely will,” his friend muttered.

“Not if they won’t find out,” Lucien shrugged as he passed him, patting his shoulder.

“You’re playing with fire, Lucien.”

“I am not, I’m just letting her enjoy herself a bit before she’s sold off to the highest bidder to birth some annoying princeling,” he shot back, glancing over his shoulder as he opened the door to his room. “Just keep your mouth shut about it, don’t tell Alis, she will snap my neck.”

“I would never rat my friend out,” Andras promised, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot though, there are plenty of women around.”

No one compares to her , Lucien thought to himself as he closed his door.

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