Chapter Text
He meets her on the day of his thirteenth birthday, which admittedly is quite strange for these arrangements. Ordinarily, people in similar ones would have met far earlier. They'd know each other by now, and not have to guess at what the other could possibly be like; but he's not so fortunate. There are a number of reasons he could guess as to why their meeting had been so delayed, but in the end it didn't truly matter to him. All that really matters is that now, today, he finally gets the chance.
He has been, very slightly, hopeful that such a meeting would go well; after all, meeting your fiancee should be a happy thing, right? Even if it was only a match made for prestige, even if you had no idea whether she would like you, even if you didn't know if she would be sweet or rude, even if rumors told of her being just awful— you'd hope, you'd wish she would be lovely. You'd wish to love her, because if you didn't…
There was nothing he could do, with an arrangement that's been assigned since birth. He may be the prince, but she was the daughter of the strongest mage in history, and was taken in by a duke with a lot of influence. It was essential her family stayed in good standing, for the sake of the country. Especially as, if the rumors are right, she's going to grow twice as sharp as her father, and thrice as powerful as her mother had been.
But, Pure Vanilla is hopeful. He has experienced so much joy and kindness in the world, and he knows the people of his beloved kingdom to be good. Though he's been resigned to staying within the castle walls and hidden away over the past few years, he hasn't forgotten what he'd seen when he hadn't been so restrained. In his mind, he can't simply believe that his fiance is senselessly terrible; he can't believe the rumors are malicious, but he can believe they're misleading, that perhaps she's simply been misconstrued. He turns a blind eye to the awful rumors he hears, and when the day comes to meet his fiance, he dredges up every bit of his will to be excited for it. He can judge her himself, by her merit alone.
He puffs himself up in the mirror, even though he can't quite see himself in it. His eyesight isn't great, and his doctors are concerned by how quickly it degrades between each visit, but he is too used to these motions to stop anytime soon. So he adjusts his suit jacket, fusses over his hair being laid just right, and takes his time picking the perfect flower to pin on his lapel. The maids and servants helping him coo and aw at the display, even as some try to hide their worried mutters from his ears. He pretends not to hear them, to spare them the embarrassment of having their private murmurings overheard, and once he's absolutely sure he's ready he hurries to the garden.
Tomorrow, they will hold a tea party here to celebrate with a number of other noble's children. It'll be a lovely event with smiles and music and delicious sweets, but today is reserved for this, the most important meeting. It was the only thing he'd asked for, for his birthday. The regents likely only agreed because he'd meet her tomorrow anyhow, and they wanted to avoid a scene if their first meeting didn't go well.
All that in mind, the garden is already prepared for the event, as much as it can be. The gardeners have trimmed every stray branch, the leaves and grass are vibrant green, flowers are in bloom, and the stone paths have been carefully cleared so that there is nothing to trip over or slip on. Tables made of shining metal lattice work have been moved into place, all carefully arranged to have plenty of room between them, all circling a fountain without touching the paths. He knows that tonight, a number of cookies will spend time hanging streamers and preparing food, and that in the morning he'll be able to look outside and see an elaborate, gleaming display that is perhaps a bit too much.
He continues walking past all of that, to a section of the garden cordoned off by a creaky, half-broken white gate. While the central garden is used for events and is properly maintained, the east garden is his to do as he likes. So the grass is perhaps a bit long, and the path a bit of a mess, but he takes pride in the work he has been able to do on his own. His flowers grow a little less organized, and definitely most of his plots aren't arranged by color and height, but he likes the work and… admittedly, he thinks the mess a more natural and more preferable look, though he'd never disparage the efforts of the gardeners! They taught him how to manage his own garden, and he'd always appreciate how effortlessly they can raise their flowers, given how testy plants can tend to be.
In any case, the east garden is his, and so he'd asked for his fiance to be guided there, so they may have a nice afternoon enjoying tea where he may have easy access to a topic of conversation, if things happen to be… awkward, at first. He can't see very well, but he doesn't miss the blur of blue sitting in his gazebo, already waiting for him. He smiles, and does his best not to hasten his steps; he doesn't want to seem in such a rush. When he finally reaches the table, she rises from her seat with what might be a smile, but her expression isn't quite clear.
"Your Highness," she greets, voice smooth and pleasant. She gives a curtsy in greeting, and waits until he raises a hand to gesture at her chair before she sits again. "It is a pleasure to finally meet."
"Isn't it?" Pure Vanilla says, tilting his head as his smile widens. He takes his own seat, and folds his hands in his lap as he tries to think of something else to say. How is one meant to greet their fiance? Should he treat it like he'd treat meeting any other cookie? He's, admittedly, not thought about this much farther than just… meeting her. His fingers twiddle for a moment, but before the silence could get too long, she speaks again.
"Such a pleasure, indeed. I'm sure you've been looking forward to it!" Her pleasant voice gains a hint of energy, and he flinches in surprise when she giggles.
"I have." Pure Vanilla responds quietly, shifting in his seat, just a touch nervous. She giggles again, the sound almost sharp, but not quite shrill. His smile falters, slightly, the corners of his lips quivering as it threatens to fall. "Um. Lady Azure—"
"No need for formalities, Your Highness. You needn't concern yourself with my title or house name, we're fiances, after all." She interjects, crossing her arms and leaning against the table, and her grin is very clear to him now. Though, still, he can't see much else. "My name, and what I prefer you use, is Shadow Milk."
"A-ah, alright… Shadow Milk." Pure Vanilla starts uncertainly, pinching his pinkie finger as he tries to recenter himself. This isn't quite how he imagined this going, she's nothing like how he'd thought she'd be, but it's certainly not… bad. If anything, this is a good thing! Asking him to use her name means she wants to be close, right? Perhaps he'd just worried for nothing. "Then, would you—"
Shadow Milk quickly interjects again. "Of course, I couldn't possibly call you by your name alone, my Prince. Such a thing would be quite the scandal!" She covers her grin with a raised hand, just partially, though she still seems amused. "I am merely your fiance, after all. Not a woman of any import."
Pure Vanilla's smile falls, immediately, and he raises a knuckle to his chin as he stares at her in confusion. "But, isn't it fine for fiances to be so close?" He asks, because that's what she said before, wasn't it? At least, that's what he'd taken her to mean. Why would she ask him to forgo titles with her if she didn't want it to be reciprocal?
"How could we be close? We only just met!" Shadow Milk scolds, pointing a finger in Pure Vanilla's face, so suddenly all he can do is blink in stunned amazement. She recedes quickly enough, her grin fading until Pure Vanilla has no hope of gauging her expression anymore, and she raises both of her arms in a shrug. "Such an idea makes no sense, no sense at all."
Pure Vanilla merely stares for a moment, before an idea comes to him. "Are you…" he starts, tilting his head the other way and trailing off in a hum, noting how her arms fall and her head tilts to mimic him. "Are you teasing me…?"
"What a clever Prince!" Shadow Milk croons, raising her hands to her cheeks and rocking side to side in her chair for a moment. "Why, you're almost adorable, in this state! You really can't keep up, can you?" She grins again, turning her head slightly away as her hands fall back down into her lap. "It's a wonder how he'll ever get to be like that in the future… this little lamb is nothing like that wolf!"
Pure Vanilla doesn't quite understand her comment, but he can understand she didn't mean for him to hear a clearly very personal aside. Although, he can't help but feel a bit down to hear what sounds like disappointment in her voice. Was he… not what she expected? Is he failing in some way?
"Anyhow!" Shadow Milk continues loudly, knocking Pure Vanilla out of his thoughts and making him sit up straight as she leans over the table again. "As your fiancee, I wanted to make a single, eensy weensy little request of you." She retreats, her blurry limbs drawing back close as she squirms almost shyly in place. Pure Vanilla finds himself frowning, as he comes to a disappointing realization.
He really can't keep up with her.
Still, he wants to try to make this work. "What would you wish for?" Pure Vanilla asks, offering a kind smile and holding out a hand. "I swear, if I can fulfill it, I will do my best." He can't end their engagement, and neither can she. The best option, then, is for them both to get to know each other, and hope to… at least be friends. Right?
If he can't keep up, he just needs to work on that. If she's smart, he just needs to get smarter too. If she's talented, he needs to get comparable skill. If she's… going to tease him, and laugh at him, he will just need to learn how to laugh with her. It will likely take time, but he can learn to understand her. Though, admittedly, he does have a challenge in his hands.
At the very least, he sees nothing of the terrifyingly cruel girl he's heard all sorts of rumors about. She may be strange, but she hasn't done worse than tangle him up in her words so far. Perhaps it's merely her clear disregard for norms that caused the misunderstanding… though, that doesn't quite feel right.
"Promise me, my Prince," Shadow Milk starts. She stands from her seat and walks around the table, crouching beside him close enough he can see her. Pure Vanilla feels his face warm as she carefully unpins his flower from his lapel and then smooths the fabric over again, humming to herself as she looks over the flower for a brief moment. She has beautiful, brilliant blue eyes; though, one was considerably darker, and the other considerably lighter. Mismatched, like his own, and sharp. Both gleaming with something like amusement, or mischief, as she folds her arms and rests them on his lap.
Pure Vanilla is both shocked by her boldness and the casualness with which she does this, as well as flustered by the smirk she gives him as she meets his eyes and holds up his flower, twisting it between her fingers to make it slowly spin. "When you meet the woman you love, you'll let me step away gracefully." Shadow Milk winks, before quickly rising again and swiftly turning her back to him, not even bothering to wait for his reaction as she stares at the flower in her hand.
"You know how boring and tried the whole banishment of a scorned fiance thing is?" She continues, waving her empty hand rather flippantly through the air as she steps away, even as Pure Vanilla feels himself only sink deeper into confusion and… disappointment. "Every story has its tropes, a villainess must have her condemnation, but geez, does it get dull!" She shrugs again, spinning on her heel so Pure Vanilla can see her grin. "There's no drama in just stepping aside, but nine times out of ten the only other recourse is for heads to roll! Or, one particular head, I mean." She pauses, head tilted at an awkward angle, before her grin falls and she sighs. "You're not following."
Pure Vanilla shakes his head, raising a hand to his cheek as he frowns. "No, I don't think so…" he says, trailing off awkwardly. "You… want me, to… let you break our engagement?" But, neither of them have a choice; she has no power to break their engagement given he's the prince, and he really can't himself unless he wants to risk souring relations with the Duke Azure. And, over something like love? Pure Vanilla wouldn't ever say he wasn't a romantic, that's why he had been so eager to finally meet his fiance and see for himself what kind of person she was, but he'd resigned himself to a loveless marriage if need be. "And… something about banishment?" That, he really doesn't get.
"What better way to get rid of an obstacle to true love?" Shadow Milk responds, voice so firm and certain Pure Vanilla very nearly gives in to the idea being sound despite his good senses. "Terrible fate for me, though. So I'd rather you just left me outright."
"But—" Pure Vanilla starts, but in only a few steps Shadow Milk is close again, close enough to place her finger over his lips and shush him, the amused glint in her eyes present again but… dimmed.
"Nope! I want a promise, Prince Vanilly. Got it? Like this: I, pro-mise." She taps her finger against his lips with every syllable, before finally pulling back again and placing her hand on her hip. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about me, many many disparaging things out there floating around. So when the day comes that some daring and darling young woman sweeps you off your feet, it'll be convenient to have me be the one taking any potential blows to reputation the breaking of our engagement may cause."
"Surely those things can't be true." After all, she's been strange and confusing, but not cruel. But Shadow Milk only grins. He's starting to get the sense that there aren't many other expressions of hers to see… is that purposeful…? Shadow Milk tuts softly, shaking her head as she clasps her hands together, though she takes care not to crush his flower.
"Oh, I'm afraid that hardly matters." She responds, before flippantly waving her hand around again. "There's enough truth in it to be useful, and enough lie present to make it spread farther than even the most nasty disease. Even so, you should get one thing clear." She leans down until their faces are even, mere inches apart, and Pure Vanilla feels his heart skip. "I'm not, and never will be, a good person. If you cast aside that mistaken idea now, you'll be all the happier for it."
Pure Vanilla blinks, but her serious expression melts away again in that split second. As if it had never existed at all.
"You are so sweet, and so kind." Shadow Milk says, as if these are statements infallible, as if his kindness is innate to his very being. She tucks his flower just above his ear, before swiftly stepping away again, leaving him stunned to silence as he watches her go. She returns to her seat, smoothing down her skirts with a sigh. "It's almost sickening. I'd tear that out of you and rend you nothing but a mere facsimile of your former image, but that's both impossible to do and merely seals my fate." Once again, Pure Vanilla is left reeling by how quickly she seems to shift tracks, how one moment she almost makes sense and the next he has no hope of following whatever she was saying. "Which makes getting you to promise me anything today useless. So, that plotline is dashed, interesting as it is. Better to let you be, and see you run off with some pretty dame."
"What if no such person ever catches my eye?" Pure Vanilla asks, because he's… not quite sure how to feel, after this, but it makes his heart ache to see her dismissing herself so thoroughly. Even if she seemed to threaten him, the threat itself hadn't been much of one nor did it make much sense to him at all, and she'd immediately dismissed the thought of following through with it anyhow. That meant something, didn't it? And if anything, it just makes him want to understand her more. He just can't believe in her certainty, that she is innately bad. He doesn't believe any cookie could be, and he can't understand why she'd be convinced she is.
Shadow Milk only laughs, at that. "Oh, she will." She responds, her grin stretching wide once more. "You're a fortunate, blessed soul. To be loved is your fate!" Her words are almost mocking, just slightly vitriolic. "You'll meet her and be knocked so thoroughly head over heels, you'd wonder how you could have ever doubted."
Pure Vanilla doesn't respond, immediately, feeling his stomach sink as if he'd just been thoroughly chastised. Had he really been a fool, expecting this to go any better? He supposes she's just being kind, in a strange way. Telling him that he needn't feel obligated to marry her if he ever decides it, that she'll take the blame if her father tries to take offense. But it feels awful, still, because… she doesn't seem to take her own feelings into the equation at all.
"What if you find someone you love?" Pure Vanilla asks meekly, already tensed and ready for whatever reaction she may have. He doesn't expect a good one. Shadow Milk seems to freeze, her frame stilling completely. It's nearly eerie, as if she'd just suddenly turned to stone. And then, she laughs. She laughs, and laughs, and laughs, as if that's the funniest thing she's heard in her life. And then, just as suddenly as she starts, she stops.
"I won't," She states. She pushes herself back out of her chair swiftly. "If you would give me a moment, I'll be right back." She turns to leave, taking a few quick steps before pausing and whirling on her heel, pointing at him with another grin. "By the by, those flowers have some interesting applications, and a few wonderful variations thanks to research at the magic institute. You may wish to look into Vanilla Beholders, take up gardening. Sooner the better!"
She darts off, leaving Pure Vanilla feeling quite unsteady and bewildered, reeling at the whirlwind that first meeting had been. But as he slowly, slowly goes over every detail he'd noted in the exchange… he finds that he only wants to work harder to understand her. He raises a hand to his ear, dusting his fingertips over his flower before carefully taking it out and holding it in front of himself, humming thoughtfully as he twirls the vanilla orchid between his fingers.
"Vanilla Beholders…"