xi.

ARCHIE DIDN'T SHRINK AWAY. The four year old held himself firm when he was addressed, only briefly turning his head to glance at Isadora, a silent permission in his eyes. His blue orbs were slightly anxious as they sparkled into her own, and she couldn't help but squeeze his hand in hers briefly, and offer him a confirming smile.

He took it like an instruction-like a consolation, like a praise-as he turned his eyes towards the foreign king, his little mind not realizing exactly who was standing in front of him, only that he needed to show the respect he had been taught, regardless of anything.

"My name is Archie," The boy spoke then, his thick little voice strong but slightly wavering as he squeezed Isadora's hand once.

Isa exhaled slowly, keeping her head bent and her gaze low in front of her, not daring to meet the king's eyes-not daring to show any disrespect. Her frustration and anger at being summoned didn't matter anymore, it was insignificant when compared to the person she was facing.

"Archie," King Alexander Casimir mused then, a calm intrigue in his tone.

"It appears your mother refuses to give me the pleasure of her eyes," He uttered, his deep baritone etched with a certain hidden amusement.

"Do you suppose she is angry? On account of me interrupting her pre-made plans for this beautiful day?"

Alarmed, Isadora bristled slightly and shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed still low.

"No, your majesty," She ushered the words, cringing inwardly at speaking before being spoken to.

Mon Dieu, why wouldn't he just address her? Put her out of this constant misery of waiting with her thoughts, bound by the propriety of not speaking in front of a royal before being spoken to?

"I dare not harbor any foolish anger towards you," She continued, words like pearls rolling off her tongue. "You assume, for it isn't my place."

"Your place," The foreign king repeated, a slight frustration in his tone and Isadora had to push past the urge to lift her eyes and look at his face-to see if he displayed the frustration.

At the ball last night, she had realized that King Alexander Casimir merely showed his emotions through his eyes-the dips and rises of his face never altered.

"I would rather you did harbor some anger at me, Miss Tremaine," He spoke then, a resolve in his voice. "At least then you would bestow me the rapture of your eyes."

Isa's spell broke then, as she lifted her face gently and her ebony eyes met the foreign king's chocolate brown ones.

His orbs were electrifying in hers as he seemed to tear past all barriers that were held up in the glass of her eyes, trying to get to her bare soul.

She gazed back into his eyes, her intrigue overpowering her. What was it about him that made her react this why? Why did he look and feel like a man that was so otherworldly? What was this feeling in the pit of her stomach and why it only come around when he did?

Slowly, he smiled and Isadora had to swallow to keep the wings beneath her flesh at bay-it didn't work.

Brazenly, his eyes moved from hers, scouring features of her face. She saw him look at the pieces of hair framing her face, her cheekbones, her lips, her neck. She felt herself burn under his calm scrutiny. With his hands pinned at his back, dressed in a formal red suit with his kingdom's badges-gleaming gold, blue and silver-pinned on his chest, and a glinting sleek gold crown rested in his partly messy, partly done hair, he looked intimidating yet exhilarating. He looked like someone some author had written about more than a thousand years ago-someone timeless and so prominent that no wind could erase even their remains.

"You are so beautiful, Miss Tremaine," The words were uttered from between his lips with a profound certainty.

"I used to wonder if beauty alone could move me, and now I find myself powerless when it's standing so pure in front of me."

Isadora breathed slowly, trying to get her battering heart to still itself. Last night she had assumed it was a mere prince paying her compliments and dancing with her a stunning moonlit waltz that she had only danced in her dreams up until that point.

But now that prince had turned into a king. Except, he had always been a king, only Isa had failed to see that.

"Archie must be relieved," The king mused then, his gaze dropping to the little boy at Isadora's skirts.

"A man ought not to be saddled with his mother's beauty. Especially not when it's this extreme. If he must, he should only have a little of it, so as to make space for the wit, intelligence and pride that he would be getting in abundance from her instead."

Isa blinked, finding herself secretly pleased with the philosophy. Though she had lain awake many a night imagining Archie with ebony eyes like hers, instead of his biological mother-the deceased Ruby Alderidge's-blue eyes. That thought had always been selfish, and Isa had always shunned herself afterwards.

"What does Archie have from you, I wonder, Miss Tremaine?" King Alexander met her eyes in intrigue, before they fell on Archie again.

The king knew Isa wasn't married. The mere fact was made evident in the ball presentations last night when her maiden name had been called, the one she stilled carried. Miss Isadora Tremaine.

The foreign king had heard it, yet there was no judgement in his eyes. In the carriage ride here, Isadora had braced herself for the same harsh judgement she had seen in the grand duke's manner-even though he knew, upon Lady Tremaine's interference, that Archie was adopted. Still the duke had looked at her a certain way. But the foreign king didn't know that.

Women were always judged by men and by other women, Isa decided. It didn't matter what they did. They were judged for a raising a child with unconditional love, even though it had been born out of wedlock. They were judged for loving ceaselessly a child that was not their own. It didn't matter what the crime-or lack thereof-was present on the table, women were always judged.

But terrifyingly, King Alexander Casimir looked at Archie with no such judgement in his eyes. Except, Isa could spot a certain resolve in his chocolate orbs-a certain content laced with an underlying melancholy. A sense of loss that he was hiding.

"He certainly doesn't have your beauty, though his own can rival mine, I fear."

Archie giggled then, the sound like bells as he understood the compliment, if not the entire conversation.

"I see," The foreign king mused. "He has your sharpness, though he gives in too easy to praises."

Archie blinked, his laugh fading into a smile as he gazed up at the king with fascination.

"But that is far from a vice. He can grow up to conquer it, but at present I declare that he must keep accepting the praises he deserves-preferably with his smile."

Archie beamed, his teeth on display as he gave the foreign king his best smile. Isadora smiled softly in turn, looking at her son.

"Tell me, little man," King Alexander spoke to Archie then, his tone schooled as a grin played on his brown lips, his dark skin gleaming.

"Do you like horses?"

It didn't take the little boy more than a second to answer.

"Yes!"

The king clicked his tongue. "Well, it seems my problem is partially solved then. My poor horse, Augustus, has been aching for want of a capable companion. He likes apples and cake, and he insists that he would only be friends with a little boy who likes apple and cake too. Where do I find such a little boy?"

Archie glanced at Isadora, excitement brimming in his blue irises as he looked back at the king.

"I like apples," He spoke, hesitatingly at first as he gathered his hope in an imaginary basket. "And I love cakes too. Mama makes them for me all the time!"

The king clasped his hands together. "I'm saved, it seems. Luck is on my side."

Archie giggled.

The foreign king then gestured to one of the guards that were lined up frozen against the walls on the giant throne room-standing taut as they waited for orders that would rarely come their way.

A guard broke away from his spell and hastened towards King Alexander, determination marked on the former's face as his clipped footsteps echoed in the throne room.

"I would like for you to take my friend Archie here, to Augustus, in the stables. Perhaps Archie can convince my stallion to not give me as much of a hard time as he has been lately. Augustus is much in want of a companion and some treats."

"That is," The king turned to look at Isadora, his brown eyes careful into hers. "If we have Miss Tremaine's permission."

Archie squeezed Isa's hand, his blue orbs peering up into hers with hope and excitement.

Isadora thought to refuse. King Alexander Casimir was merely tearing Archie away from her for some brief moments, so that he could speak to her of the real reasons he had had her summoned. Perhaps he thought to confront her, for refusing his invitation and walking out on his royal presence just as she would on a mere commoner.

Isa swallowed then. If he had all that planned, she'd rather not have Archie hear it-see it. She'd rather have him away, in his happy space, in his own circle, just so that he didn't hear or see. That was the practice Isadora had employed in the chateau. When Lady Tremaine lost her temper, Isa made sure Archie was out of hearing, out of sight-head bent over a plant in the gardens or sleeping soundly in a far room. She made sure he didn't hear a single word, though the child could sense it every time. He had begun to understand it every time.

"Yes, of course," Isadora let out then, managing a smile at Archie as the boy barely managed to conceal the excitement glowing on his face.

"Please look after him," Isa added as the guard offered Archie his white uniformed gloved hand and Archie took it, letting go of his mama's own.

"Yes, ma'am," The guard affirmed, leading Archie away as the boy flashed Isadora one excited, parting smile.

Footsteps receded in her ears as she watched them go, until the guard and Archie stepped past a corner and were out of the throne room, out of view.

"Is his father in his life?"

The question was gentle, but still abrupt as it caught Isa's attention. She turned to look at the foreign king. The picture of daunting perfection-his sculpted face was schooled in a composure, yet his eyes talked of consideration.

"No," Isa blinked, thrown off by the mention of Archie's biological father.

Ruby Alderidge had never told her who the man was, though it was understood that he was no man. For all Isadora knew, he could've merely been a rapist having entrapped Ruby for the despicable fun he had gotten from off of it.

Isadora's eyes stung sharply as she held her emotion back.

"So what I have deduced thus far is true? He abandoned you and the child?"

King Alexander Casimir's tone was now laced with a certain contempt, a brimming fury that he was holding back with thick reins. Those thick reins were concern, he was holding his contempt for the absent man with the concern he felt for Archie or maybe Isa herself.

Isa's heart throbbed in her chest as she thought of Ruby.

"No-" She shook her head, swallowing an empty lump in her throat as she met the foreign king's eyes and tried to string words together coherently.

"The man did abandon Archie, but-I adopted him after his mother died. She was my friend, and it was her last request."

King Alexander Casimir's eyes widened slightly, his brown eyes sparkling a certain.. relief? fascination? Isadora couldn't be entirely sure.

She had lied to him. The part about Ruby Alderidge dying. The girl had been killed, butchered-stabbed repeatedly. A crazed heartless maniac who had taken a young girl away too soon.

There was a difference in between died and killed. The difference was so crucial that it needed to be stated, the words needed to be used correctly. But it seemed to Isa that the correction brought forward unbearable pain, so much so that it was easier to just lie.

"You adopted a child," King Alexander's voice softened to an airy sound of fascination as he gazed deep into her eyes.

"You astound me, Miss Tremaine," He shook his head slightly, not breaking their gaze. "If you didn't already consume my thoughts after last night, you have now emptied the chest of all the respect I had left to give. I feel like a fool standing here in front of you-in front of your mind and heart."

Isadora didn't think she was properly breathing anymore. The king, a fool? Why would he refer to himself as such, in front of a mere commoner like her? Suddenly, she felt embarrassed.

"Last night, when you-," He broke off with an exhale.

"When you refused my invitation and mentioned your son, I assumed-Nay-I believed the worst."

His jaw tightened, and Isadora could see a vein visibly throbbing there.

"I had heard your presentation at the ball of course, and I knew there was no possibility that you were married. I must admit, I called you here to hear the fact from your lips."

Anger and defiance tugged at Isa's chest then, gripping her heart tightly and painfully.

"Why?" She managed, her brows furrowing as her gaze hardened in his.

"Why couldn't you let it be, your majesty? With all due respect, I do not owe you an insight on my private matters."

King Alexander Casimir schooled his face, bracing himself for her words. There was no anger in his own features, only a submission-as though he knew he had been in the wrong. But his eyes held firm, as though with his submission came an unwavering belief in himself and his intentions. A belief that was so noteworthy that Isadora wanted to stop and count off how many people in her life carried such unselfish belief in themselves. She tried briefly, but could think of no name.

"Yes, you do not owe me any such thing," He affirmed then, his tone deep and smooth. "But there are things that I owe myself, Miss Tremaine. There are things that I owe to my sanity. I admit, it is my fault that I let a selfish restlessness consume me this time. I promise, I do not usually entertain such behavior in myself or others."

Isa blinked as she felt her anger melt away just like that. The sensation left her reeling. Once again, she thought of all the people in her life who could defend themselves with such dominant grace and finality that they didn't need to elaborate further for anyone. She could once more think of no names.

"But I just-," The King's hands pinned at his back came undone and she his arms fall to his sides, dark gold ringed fingers twitching in discomfort.

"I had to see you."

Isadora's gaze softened into his, marred by her curiosity and pure disbelief. For a single second, she thought if her mother been right in assuming as she had? In fantasizing about the fact that the King of the kingdom of Angria had danced with her eldest daughter and perhaps wanted so much more to do with her? But Lady Tremaine was a woman without much substance and no depth. She saw things as they appeared on the surface, and in that regard, Isa's entire world was different.

Isadora had long shunned fantasizing about fairytale marriages with her sister. Her girlhood had once been dominated by the very thing, but she was no girl anymore. She was twenty and two, a mother to a four year old, and this was her life. She knew how devoid of magic it was, the only happiness she got was from her son.

But all that had led her now to believe that being crossed in love was not for her. A man who wanted a wife and asked for Isa's hand, needed to be rich enough for her to rely on for Archie's future. The man needed to state his intentions from the start, because though Isadora Tremaine had time for courtships, she had no energy for love outside of her son.

As she looked into the dark king's eyes at present, she didn't see the concrete certainty that she needed to even dare to assume anything. She saw him waver slightly, his eyes hosting a valley of emotions that came and went. Straightening herself slightly, she realized that him turning into a king over breakfast in her thoughts wasn't something that changed any of her initial thoughts.

He was a king of a foreign kingdom. His customs were different, his way of life was different. He could do anything he wanted, he could dabble in love whenever he wanted, with whomsoever he wanted. He could try out a thousand hearts for size if he wanted to. But Isadora Tremaine had no such cards on her table. She had no right to dabble in anything, she had no right to plan out a thousand different paths for herself and venture on whichever she felt like at the moment.

She was different from him, her future was different from his. And she refused to entertain someone with her energy if they saw her only as a skipping stone rippling the surface of a lake.

"I don't want to force you into anything, Miss Tremaine," King Alexander spoke then, as her eyes met his.

"But at present," He stepped closer, his gaze firm in hers as closed the distance between them narrowly.

Isadora sucked in a sharp silent breath as he brought his hand forward then and took Isadora's gloved one, bringing it up to his face as he kissed the top of it, his eyes fixed into hers in the meanwhile. She didn't feel the disgust at being touched, the disgust she was waiting for. Instead, the wings in her stomach created a tornado of their own.

"I must impose on your pre-made plans for today and will insist you accompany me to the stables to fetch Archie, after which I will be taking you both to the observatory. You are my guests, and as relations of Charming's bride-to-be, you are not allowed to leave the palace until you dine with us-with me."

***

A/N:
crushing so hard on Alexander<3 next chapter's going to be fun and so so cute i promise