Would you let me, see beneath your beautiful?
Would you let me, see beneath your perfect?
¶Labrinth––Beneath Your Beautiful ft. Emeli Sandé¶

  "N̤̈Ö̤Ṳ̈M̤̈Ä̤Ï̤R̤̈, go wake up His Highness at his quarters and help him get ready for our journey to Clermont," the Queen ordered the foreign Prince's valet and with a curt nod of his head, the valet made his way to the Prince's suite.

   Estelle made her way to the dining room and took a seat with quite an audible sigh. She was having sleepless nights lately ever since she received the letter from Emperor Joffrey. In her mind, she would twist and turn the events, try to see their endings but still end up nowhere. Even then, she was so absorbed, once more, in the letter, that she didn't notice the maid placing her plate of croissants and a cup of piping hot tea in front of her. Only the aroma drew her out of her reverie since she was also lacking appetite lately and now the hunger had just built up.

   With a groan, Rafael sat himself on his seat, his eyes bleary and his vision clouded. His plate was already there, his cutlery already set. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision and with a wobbly arm, took the fork and knife in his hand and tried to eat . . . only for the fork to fall moments later when his eyes shut momentarily.

   Groaning once more, he picked the fork again and made another attempt at breaking his fast. Only this time, not only did the fork fall with a clang, again, but his entire face fell into his plate as he started to snore. The maids and knights standing on guard found it to be a comical sight as they tried to hide their laughter with coughs. Estelle wished she could see the humour in his stupidity.

   "Would you get up?" It was more of a command than a request and it breached through Rafael's short lived sleep.

   "Aye, aye," he said unconsciously and resumed his breakfast, nodding off every once in a while. Estelle finished her meal and didn't hesitate to head towards the stables to get the horses ready. Anything to stay away from him.

   After about half an hour, Rafael came stumbling through the palatial gate and hopped on his horse clumsily. It was a wonder to Estelle as to how his drowsiness had not worn off yet.

   "Why on Earth do we have to get up at such an ungodly hour in the morrow? Is it even morning yet, or is it just few hours past midnight? Couldn't we just wake up and start the journey earlier in the day like normal people do-"

   "Keep. Quiet," Estelle silenced him in a cold manner, annoyed by his unremetting ramble. However, he did keep his silence, that somehow, he became too quiet. After the two days she spent with the man, she found out that he was a man of many, many words. Who would natter nineteen to the dozen about nothing at all. Growing shockingly worried, she snapped her head to look at him and at that moment, she wished she hadn't looked.

   Rafael was almost falling off of his steed with his horse moving from side to side and neighing constantly. She pulled in the reigns to her mare and jumped off to his side before he really did fall off face first.

   "Get off," she ordered him and he jumped off clumsily to stand wobbly next to her. After climbing her mare again, she motioned for him to climb as well, but, the man was fast sleep . . . while standing. How is that even possible?

   "Would you just get on the horse so we can be on our way," she said harshly, her patience running very, very thin. Her voice knocked him off of his sleep temporarily as he got on the mare in semblance to that of a toddler.

   After calling one of the two knights––who had come along to protect them if the need arose––to take the unoccupied steed, she grabbed the reigns once more and they began their journey once more. Unknowingly, Rafael slipped his arms round her waist for support, but, not event a moment had passed when he felt Estelle's back go rigid and her backbone straight in discomfort.

   "Are you uncomfortable?" he asked, his voice hoarse and husky from his vocal cords not having been used for a long time.

   "I can manage," she replied, lying through her teeth. Yes, she was uncomfortable and she felt as if any movement of hers was restricted. They rode on, with clip-clopping of horses hooves and Rafael's soft snores occupying the silence. Time trickled by until noontide arrived.

   "What the-" Estelle exclaimed when Rafael suddenly started to snuggle closer to her. Blood rushed to her face as she struggled to reel in her horse. Uncomfortability ran it's icy hand up and down her spine, sending tingles all over her person. The knights halted as well, not comprehending what was going on until they saw Her Majesty's flushed face and the foreign Prince's hand around her waist. It was as easy as a-b-c to know what the matter was.

   Nay, nay I cannot do this.

   "Let us take a stop for luncheon," she said casually, hiding the embarrassment in her tone at her knights seeing her . . . blush. Why did she just keep blushing all willy nilly when she was around him? Gently––despite the inner voice that told her to just push him off the horse instead––she nudged Rafael awake and he woke up, eyes still bleary and face puffy.

   "¿Qué?" he sleepily asked as he got off of the horse, almost falling off of it . . . again.

   "We are stopping for luncheon." In reply, he subconsciously nodded his head as he headed towards the forestry right across the road, following the two knights who were already setting up camp.

   "Corporal Arceneaux and Rafael you are in charge of setting up camp while Corporal Barnabé, you're with me to go and look for game." With that note, they both set off to their designated duties to compile the basic necessities required for camping.

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   "Since we are done eating, let's continue with our journey to . . . wherever you said we were going," Rafael said, dusting his trousers as he got up.

   Estelle shot him a puzzled look, wondering what went on in his addle brain to make him think that they would set up camp only to move when evening arrived.

   "We are  camping here," she informed him and watched the way his face transformed from a 'you have to be jesting look' to a horrified one once he saw her face was serious, having no inkling of a jest.

   "Please, please let us sleep at an inn," he implored, his eyes searching for hers.

   "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark?" she asked incredulously, still seated on a patch of grass. Rafael visibly shivered and his eyes shot hither and yon as if he saw something in the shrubbery.

   "Not-not just the darkness; the-the wilderness. You never know what's lurking in the bushes." Estelle felt some bit of empathy towards him. She got up to go and fetch their sleeping bags and laid them neatly next to the crackling fire that provided them with warmth in that rather icy evening, and motioned for him to sit down. Slowly, with his eyes still darting everywhere, he sat down close to her, much to her chagrin at the close proximity.

   Laying flat on the sleeping bag, she cast her gaze up to the starry night sky and took a large intake of the woodsy smell around her. Times like this brought back long, forgotten memories. Times when she could be the person who she really was; carefree and . . . happy––something she hadn't felt in such a long time.

   "Why should one be afraid of the outdoors when it's so serene and tranquil and when the light breeze brings you peace of mind?" she asked and turned around to look at his countenance filled with discomfort, nothing like the charming and dashing charisma he normally exuded. For some time, he didn't reply as he inhaled and exhaled trying to calm down before speaking.

   "Why should you be afraid of me when all I've done thus far is to try to get to know you better?" he retorted, his demeanour changing to that of a serious one. Estelle shut her eyes briefly and drew out a shaky breath.

   "I told you it was just the cold, nothing more," she replied coldly. Rafael rose a questioning brow at her, studying her face; it was clear that she was, once more, lying to him.

   "Truly? If I tell you why I am afraid of the wilderness, will you tell me why you fear me?" he proposed, but expected a flat 'no' as an answer.

   "You first," she conceded, much to Rafael's surprise. Suddenly, he grew uncomfortable and opted to just sit instead of laying down.

   "Well . . .

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   The Zejardian royal family had gone for their mensually night picnic that had been cancelled for some time when the Queen was of child. Nigh that she had delivered the baby safely, the family was now at their favourite clearing, gushing over the new member of their family.

   Baby Arturo was loved by one and all for his adorableness and his cute, nasal chuckles. Especially by his big brothers. It was no secret that his mamá had then labelled him as his favourite child, as she attended for his wants round the clock.

   "Federico, 'tis now my turn to hold baby Arturo," Rafael whined to his younger brother. Slowly all the while casting a forlorn look at his younger brother, Federico handed him over to Rafael's expecting hands. Upon receiving him, Rafael tossed him high up in the air and was awarded by Arturo's signature chuckle.

   "Who's my baby brother? You are, aye, you are," he teasingly played with him, playfully pinching his pudgy cherub-like cheeks.

   "Kids, 'tis now time to sit down. The meteor shower is almost starting," King Leonardo's voice boomed and all of the children sat down dutifully with their gazes cast towards the sky expectantly.

   Rafael heard some shuffling to the bushes on his right. Holding baby Arturo tightly, he cast his gaze to the shrubbery in search of the source of the noise. A pair of eyes caught his vision, glinting under the moonlight and a growl followed. His eyes widened in horror and all his senses ceased functioning. With a shaky hand, he pointed towards the bush and made sounds with his mouth.

   Everyone's eyes were soon on him as they searched for what he was pointing at. Once they saw it, they all got up in an unlikened frenzy, all running towards the carriage. Rafael was dragged up by his sisters but they soon gave up hope and ran for their dear lives upon seeing the creatures emerge from the darkness: wild dogs. He stood transfixed to the ground as they surrounded him. Cold beads of perspiration broke through his skin as his knees grew wobbly.

   King Leonardo stayed back and aided his wife in her escape until he saw his first born son, holding his last born in his hands, trembling like never before. The sight didn't go unseen by the Queen.

   Baby Arturo's cry broke through the rather silent atmosphere, redirecting the focus of the wild dogs to him, as if they hadn't seen him before. Perceiving him to be the weaker one, they charged for him and ripped him away from Rafael's arms. Feeling the emptiness in his arms, Rafael snapped out of his frightened daze and cried out loud at the grotesque sight ahead of him.

   He tried to snatch him back from the vile beasts, but, one of the wild dogs bit his arm, almost dragging him into the fight they had over Arturo. Leonardo snatched his son's free hand and took him out of the vice grip the dog had on his other arm and in the process, the dog managed to get away with Rafael's skin.

   "Run, boy!" Leonardo yelled and dragged both his wife and son out of the clearing. Rafael looked back at his baby brother's body being dissected, the life in him having already been drawn out.

   They set foot on the palace grounds after a silent carriage ride. The distinct sound of a slap rang through the air, cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter.

   "You stupid boy! You let my Arturo die! I wish you would have died instead of him!" Queen Camila yelled, despondency and grief in her voice. Tears flowed down her eyes in torrents as she cast her son a look full of hatred. She ran away shortly after, having grown disgusted by the sight of her first born.

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   A lone tear slid down Rafael's cheek, the memory of his brother's bloody, dismembered body still fresh. Estelle had sat up as well and watched Rafael with a look filled with empathy and sympathy.

   "Every once in a while, the nightmares plague my sleep. I can't help but feel that something is lurking in the bushes," he said, stroking a deep scar on his left hand, which Estelle hadn't yet noticed up till then.

   "I wonder how things would have been if I had just been a man and ran away. Arturo would be seven years of age by now," he said despondently, swallowing the gulp in his throat.

   "How old were you?" Estelle inquired softly.

   "Two and ten years," he replied in the midst of wiping away the tears on his face.

   "Anyway, 'tis now your turn," he said, now looking at her face.

   "After hearing this, I promise I will completely understand if you want to break off our engagement," she said, finding interest in the shrubbery instead of his eyes. She had to tell him, he was her betrothed and he had the right to know.

   "No matter what, I'll never break off our engagement," he earnestly replied, searching for her eyes. Slowly, she met his gaze and inhaled before she began.

   "Well . . .

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   "Excuzes-moi, Votre Majesté, ton fille (Excuse me, Your Majesty, your daughter) wishes to have a word with you. She says 'tis urgent," the Royal Steward said, and King Hugues got out of his chair and apologized to the council for the disturbance.

   Outside, he was met with his four and ten year old second born (Estelle), her face ruddy and beads of perspiration on her face due to physical exertion.

   "Mon ange, qu'est-ce que (what is it)?" the King asked, concern etched on his countenance. Estelle's panting subsided and she drew in a shaky breath.

   "Papa, rogues." That was all it took for the warning bells in the King's mind to start ringing. They hadn't had an attack from them for such a long time that he thought that they had finally given up. Who knew they had breached through their security?

   "Napoleon, get all the council members out, immediately," he ordered his Royal Advisor and in turn the Advisor nodded, turning to go fulfill his command.

   "Papa, they've besieged us," Estelle said panicky. Hugues kneeled down to his daughter's height and held her shoulder in comfort.

   "Where is Eliseé?"

   "He's gone horse riding with the the dukes' sons," she hastily replied as her eyes darted everywhere.

   "Go and get the girls and head through the back gate, d'accord?"

   "Oui, papa." With that, she ran through the vast corridors, each corner that she took made her heart thump even louder in its ribcage.

   "Angélique, Arielle, out now," she said authoritatively, bursting through the twins bedroom door.

   "But we're not done playing-"

   "I said now! There are rogues in the castle!" she exclaimed and the twins faces grew pallid. Without wasting time, they rushed out of the room after having gotten instructions to go through the back gate. Estelle was about to leave as well but her skirts were caught in between the door hinges. Her breath short and her heart thumping louder and louder each second, she yanked and yanked with all her might until the skirt finally ripped away. However, she was too late; the rogues met her at the door.

   Slowly she backed away into the room, trying to get a hold of anything that she could use as a weapon with the rogues following after her with devious smiles on their faces.

   "Well, well, well," one drawled with a Martinian accent, "Would you take a look at what we have here, fellas?" Her hands roamed everywhere, finally finding a silver candelabrum that was heavy enough to cause some serious damage.

   "St-stay away from me," she managed, the outstretched hand holding the candelabrum trembling like never before.

   "I've tasted all of the ones at the brothel, but never a princess before. This is our lucky day, fellas," another one said, kicking away the candelabrum from her hands. Roughly, he pushed Estelle onto the queen-sized bed behind her and she fell, her skirts strewn all over. Another one shut the door, giving her no hope of escaping.

   Sooner than she knew it, a rogue was already on top of her, his eyes dilated with lust, making her shout out in fear.

   "No one's going to hear you, dearie. They've all ran away from us," he said with a lustrous grin, exposing his yellowed teeth that came as a result of smoking tobacco. He ripped open her corset, and gazed at her chest with that same smile. Estelle tried all she could to hide the least of her dignity that was still left and bit the face which was roaming, kissing and sucking the flesh on her neck.

   "I didn't know you bite. Anyway, I love it when they put on a fight," the man said, proceeding with his activities and roamed further down her neck, nipping her collarbone. Estelle kicked him at where the sun didn't shine and he howled in pain. Shortly after, he whacked her on a left cheek hard, that made her draw blood out of her cheek. He took off his belt and used it to tie her arms to the bed head.

   "Stay still!" he barked, ripping off the rest of her dress from her body, leaving her nearly naked in her chemise. The more she fought, the harder the man whacked her poor face until she was coming in and out of consciousness.

   The despicable men took turns in violating her chastity, giving no care whatsoever to her young age. Estelle cried tears like never before, seeing that she would die such a dirty death as her energy slowly drained away.

   "You bastards!" King Hugues yelled in anger as he slammed open the door, making it hang loose on its hinges. His rage was unlikened as he killed them all within seconds. It was the pain that a father felt upon seeing his daughter's virginity destroyed in such an ignoble manner. The rogues lay lifelessly on the floor and he jumped over the bodies towards his precious daughter.

   "Papa," she said shakily, her countenance being renewed with more tears, her sniffles making Hugues' heart ache even more.

   "Oui, mon ange. I am here," he said softly trying to soothe her though knowing that it helped with nothing. After untying her from the bedhead, he took off his coat and covered his daughter with it. When he reached out to hug her, she stepped away, tears threatening to fall out of her untrusting eyes. Hugues drew back in his arms a hurt expression on his countenance––but, he was forced to understand––and motioned for her to get out after him; which she did, casting a look behind her every time, to see whether her father was trying to do anything to her.

   Hugues sighed, knowing that things would never be the same, not now, or ever.

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   "After that, I drew a bath and scrubbed myself thoroughly. But still, I felt dirty and dishonoured," she said, rubbing arm her with her hand in nervousness. Slowly, Rafael reached out to take hold of her soft hand and she didn't draw back like he expected her to.

   "Star," he said softly, using the name he made for her, "You never wanted to be violated. I am deeply sorry for causing you such great discomfort thus far through my ignorance," he apologized earnestly, slowly rubbing circles at the palm of her hand.

   "'Tis okay, you were unaware, after all. 'Tis all in the past even though the nightmares are still fresh in my mind," she replied, going back to sleeping on her sleeping bag to see if she could be able to get some sleep. Rafael followed, not letting go of her hand and slowly, he started drifting off to sleep faster than he knew.

   Estelle looked once more at their interlinked hands and soon she fell asleep as well with a thought that was crystal clear in her mind:

   At least I won't be having nightmares today.

*Chapter Three: The Trip to Clermont*