Chapter Text
Emma had never been a conventional princess.
She hated dresses, loved sword fighting, and would rather spend time outside of the castle walls than inside it.
Though her parents supported her, it was growing closer and closer to her eighteenth birthday. It had been law for as long as anyone in the land could remember that anyone in the ruling family must be married by the age of eighteen. At the time, this was to ensure successional heirs, as mysterious illnesses killed many-a-ruler. Now, it was more of a traditional courtesy due to the law, as healing and medicine advanced.
It was at dinner one night that talk of an Eligible Bachelor Ball being thrown was suggested by Queen Mary Margaret.
“Mother, please,” Emma said, making a face.
“Manners, Emma,” David chided gently.
“We just want what’s best for you,” Mary Margaret said. “We won’t be strict about being married right at eighteen. But you must be in a serious courtship.”
“Must he be royalty?” Emma asked.
“No, but we believe men of noble standing should be considered more highly,” David told her truthfully.
Emma was grateful her father wasn’t going to lie to her about their expectations— he’d never done so before— but he was the king after all, and it made sense that his daughter should marry someone of high blood.
“When?”
“We were thinking next month for the ball,” Mary Margaret told her, “That gives you about six months to make a decision.”
Emma nodded solemnly. She didn’t like it, but at least her parents were being more lenient than her father’s parents. They’d banished James when he refused to take a wife and promoted David to become the king. After they died when Emma was six-years-old, her father tried to locate his brother just to find out that he’d been killed quite some time ago.
“May I be excused?”
“Of course,” David told her. “We’ll start to prepare for the ball in the morning.”
Emma stood, scooting her chair back under the table, and exited the dining hall. When she reached her room, she didn’t get ready for bed like she knew her parents expected her to. Instead, she changed into a simple tunic, her oldest pair of riding pants, and sturdy boots. She strapped a small dagger to her hip. She then picked up the sack of food she’d left by her window and then proceeded to climb out of it and make the short leap into the branches of a nearby tree.
She’d been allowed to choose her own room in the castle when she was ten. Her parents wanted to start to teach her a bit of independence. So, she chose the room with the easiest means of escape.
She shimmied down the tree and set off toward one of the nearest villages. She knew her visit would be welcome. They always were with Neal.
She and Neal had been best friends since she’d started sneaking out almost eight years ago. His mother died when they were fifteen, leaving him to help more around the house due to his father’s injured foot. Emma started to help him pick up the slack, never being afraid of hard work or “acting like a commoner.”
On her way there, she basked in the cool air and enjoyed the fireflies filling the forest with little bits of glowing light.
About halfway to Neal’s cottage she heard something in the darkness. She flattened herself against a tree and readied her dagger in case she had to make a get away or fight her way out. However, she soon realized that what she heard was not a threat, but someone crying.
Peeling herself away from the tree and replacing her dagger, she tried to approach the other person as carefully as possible, not wanting to frighten them.
“Hello?” she called. “Are you alright?”
The other person gasped and quickly stood. A lantern illuminated her face and beautiful brown curls.
Not wanting to be recognized, Emma stopped walking toward the other girl and held up her hands. “I won’t hurt you. I just… I heard you crying.”
“What are you doing in the woods so late?” she asked in an accusatory voice.
Emma smiled to herself. Not so helpless after all.
“I’m going to see a friend.”
“A sick friend? No one would risk the woods just for a casual visit.”
“I’m too vulnerable during the day, according to my father. More like he’s too overprotective, but he’s a good father,” Emma answered.
“At least he cares about you,” the other girl said quietly.
Emma stepped a little closer. There was still a few feet of distance between them and she didn’t exactly want this other girl to recognize her, but Emma also didn’t want to leave her in the woods all alone.
“Terrible father?” Emma asked.
“Wonderful father,” she whispered. “But he died.”
“I’m sorry.”
The two stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments.
“You were going somewhere.”
“I didn’t want to leave you here in the woods by yourself,” Emma said.
“How chivalrous,” she mocked, “but I came here alone. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? I-”
“I said I’ll be fine!”
“You don’t seem to have any weapons or-”
The girl yelled in frustration, picking up some dirt and throwing it at Emma. “Just go!”
She has quite the arm, Emma thought as she was hit in the chest with a pile of dirt. She brushed herself off and didn’t bother with a goodbye as she continued on to Neal’s cottage— she didn’t want to show up at Neal’s completely covered in dirt.
When she did finally arrive, she told Neal what happened, handing over the sack of food.
“Sounds like she was having a rough time,” Neal said.
“She was, but… I don’t know…” She leaned against the wall just inside the cottage, looking dejectedly out of a window.
“What?”
“I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how,” Emma admitted. “Am I that out of touch?”
Neal shook his head. “Ems, you’ve been my best friend for years. Not once have I seen you be out of touch.”
“I know, but I haven’t come by much in the past year,” Emma said. “My parents have been giving me more responsibilities.”
“But you still come! And you’re always willing to help out,” Neal argued.
“Eventually, we may never see each other,” Emma said softly, “that’s just how this goes.”
“Stop this talk and come sit down,” Neal said, ushering her to the table.
The girl in the woods was quickly forgotten as the two of them tried to regain a sense of normalcy— but it was hopeless. Emma was right, she hadn’t been able to sneak away as easily. She’d been bogged down by duties she didn’t feel ready for.
“That’s not even the half of it,” Emma said, listing off some of her new duties. “My parents want to throw a ball.”
“They do that sometimes. What’s different about this one?”
“This one is about finding me a husband,” Emma said, burying her face in her hands.
Neal paused. “You are almost eighteen.”
Emma looked at him. “Are you on their side?”
“I think it’s an ancient rule that doesn’t hold much weight these days, but it is the law.”
Emma stood abruptly. “You’d have me marry a complete stranger because of some outdated law?”
“Not necessarily a stranger…”
“What do you mean?”
Neal looked away, not able to meet her eye. “What if I was to come to the ball? I am an eligible bachelor, after all.”
Emma stared at him. She’d never considered Neal as someone to marry. He was Neal . He was her best friend and partner in crime, but her husband?
“You are certainly invited to be there,” Emma said carefully.
Neal gave her a faint smile. “But you don’t see me that way… do you?”
“I’m sorry.”
Neal shook his head. “I didn’t think so, but I would’ve always wondered if I didn’t ask.”
After a few moments of silence, Emma stood. “I should go.”
“Don’t stay away too long,” Neal said, standing.
Emma looked at him and gave him a genuine smile. “I won’t. Not even after you just tried to propose to me!”
“It would have been much bigger if it was a true proposal!” Neal shot back.
They both laughed— the tense moment over— as they hugged.
“Give your father my regards when he returns home.”
“I will. Be safe.”
With a final nod goodbye, Emma headed back toward the castle.