Chapter Text
Steve’s eyes dart around the ballroom, watching as pairs twirl across the floor. The band is playing a familiar tune, one that Steve’s recognizes from years of attending these balls but one that he would never be able to name. The wait staff carry trays filled with foods and drinks around the crowded room. Mike stands off to the side, chatting with one of the waiters. Most likely trying to convince him to allow Mike a glass of champagne. Steve can practically hear Mike’s argument. ‘As a royal guest, I should be allowed one beverage of my choosing’. It’s the same argument Steve is forced to hear every time when Wheelers visit the castle. He turns his attention away from the young boy, knowing that Will and El will find him soon enough and save the poor waiter. The chandelier above him catches his interest next.
“And I’ve completely lost you.” Steve’s gaze jumps back to Nancy, who has her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as they too dance along with the crowd. She has humor in her eyes and a small smile as she looks up at him. Her hair curled perfectly to frame her face and the red gown she wears has eyes lingering on her. No one could deny that Nancy was meant to be queen one day. “I had the feeling your mind was elsewhere when you stepped on my foot, not once but twice. Then you started counting the diamonds in the chandelier and I knew it was over.”
Nancy’s teasing causes Steve’s cheeks to tint faintly and a small chuckle escapes him. Soon, she’s laughing along with him. “Sorry Nance.” Steve says, giving her a sheepish smile. He knew she couldn’t be too upset over his wandering mind, considering she was still smiling at him. “You know how I get at these things.”
Tonight was The Snow Ball, an event held by the Harrington Royal Family every winter to celebrate the change in seasons. The crowds are always large as all the rich and royal want to make an appearance at the infamous Snow Ball. This ball is extra special as when the guests began to arrive earlier in the evening, flurries began to fall. The first snow of the winter. According to legends in the kingdom, when the first snowfall happens at the same time as the Snow Ball, the kingdom will prosper throughout the winter and good luck will be spread to all the people.
“I know, just going through the motions”. Nancy sighs and slides her hands along Steve’s arms, pausing for a moment as their fingers interlock. “I’m gonna go find Jonathan. Maybe take a moment for yourself. The night will be over soon.” She gives his hands a soft squeeze before she walks away.
Steve hurries out of the room, hoping no one realizes that Nancy is no longer occupying his time. During most of the balls, either Nancy or Jonathan stay by his side to ward away anyone who wants to go beyond the most basic of formalities. He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the style that one of his servants spent so long on. As he feels the ends of his hair brush against his jaw, he wonders for a moment if his father was right and it was time to cut it. No, that very thought causes him to decide that he’ll continue to let it grow. Maybe even until it falls well past his shoulders. That would surely get his father riled up and Steve has to take his victories where he can get them.
Now in the deserted hall, he can still hear the roar of the ball but it's more subdued. Steve can finally breathe as he slips out a side door onto one of the castle’s many balconies. The snow is still falling softly. The ground has a light dusting but most likely all that will be left in the morning will be mud. Steve leans against the railing, looking over the dark, empty courtyard. The kids will be disappointed that the snow is not thick enough to play in. Maybe Steve is also disappointed. The highlight of winter for him is Dustin, somehow, making it past the guards that stand watch near the wing containing the royal family’s bedrooms and banging on Steve’s door in hopes that he’ll join in on the snow ball fight with the rest of the staff’s children. While Steve always says that this has to be the last time, that he has important things to do, he always ends up bundled up in his warmest garments with the kids laughing and running around him.
The smell of smoke pulls Steve from his thoughts, quickly looking around for the source. For a moment, he panics at the thought of the castle being on fire. There were enough candles and drunk people in that ballroom to be a hazard. Just as he’s about to run to find a guard, he sees a faint glow from under a nearby tree. Of course, someone thinks they’re above the rules. Every guest is informed of the designated smoking areas upon their arrival. All the meticulous planning that goes into the Snow Ball, just for some snobby duke to think he can do whatever he pleases.
“You’re not supposed to smoke out here.” Steve calls out, hopefully loud enough to be heard from the second floor balcony. Irritation courses through Steve’s veins. He can already hear his father’s complaints once this night is over. The Snow Ball never lives up to the expectations that King Harrington has for it. This royal didn’t show up. The kitchen staff messed up the sausage bites that the Queen adores and requests every year. There wasn’t enough alcohol. There was too much alcohol. The band was off key. Steve didn’t talk enough. Steve wasn’t friendly enough. Steve was too friendly. Steve didn’t dance with any single eligible women. Steve spent too much time with eligible women. Doesn’t Steve know he has reached the age where he should be looking for a wife? There was no pleasing King Harrington, especially as his son.
A scoff echoes through the quiet courtyard. “I’m not going all the way to the edge of the property because little prince Wheeler might get a cough”. The nonchalant tone of the voice causes Steve to clench his jaw as anger courses through him. How dare this di- Wait, the edge of the property? That was the staff’s smoking area. All the staff was either working or on standby in case they were needed.
“Come out so I can see you.” Steve musters every ounce of authority he had, hoping that he sounded serious enough that he could handle this. He couldn’t imagine any of the staff denying his, the prince’s, orders. His hands grip tightly onto the railing as he watches a young man saunter out from the shadow of the tree. A cigarette between his lips as he walks into the faint glow emanating from the many castle windows. And oh… His face is not one that Steve recognizes. He is near positive that he would have remembered someone as han- memorable as this man. The stranger is a servant. Steve is positive of that from the look of the man’s clothing. He wears a loose white shirt that can’t possibly give him much warmth in these freezing temperatures and basic trousers. His curls are untamed. A polar opposite to the neat style Steve’s hair had before the stress of the night got to him. Steve considers offering the man his suit coat before he decides better of it. It wouldn’t end well for a staff member to have one of the royal family’s possessions.
Steve clears throat and lets go of the railing, tugging at the cuff of his suit out of habit. “Who are you? I don’t recognize you.” He hopes his voice sounds more steady than he feels as the man stares up at him, taking another pull from the cigarette. Steve often prides himself in knowing the staff of the castle well. Considering one day, maybe soon, he will take the throne, he wants to have good relations with those that work for him. Many of them are closer to him than his own family. His mind jumps to Robin, who is probably still in the stables now, and Dustin, who is probably sneaking around to get just a glimpse of the party.
“Edward Munson.” The stranger smirks as he takes the cigarette from his mouth, his other hand coming up to twirl a lock of hair. “But you, Prince Charming, can call me Eddie”. Steve bites his lip as he listens to the man, Eddie, speak. Now that Steve can see him better, he notices black peeking out from under the man’s collar. Tattoos. His eyes trail up and down Eddie’s body. A familiar feeling builds in Steve’s gut and he tries his hardest to ignore it.
“I’m, uh-” Steve attempts to stammer out, noting the amused look on Eddie’s face.
“I know who you are, Prince. I suppose my question is, why is Prince Steven out here all on his own? Don’t you have a room full of ladies to be wooing?” Eddie’s voice has an edge of mocking that causes Steve to purse his lips.
“Just Steve. You don’t have to do the whole princ-”
“Steve! Get back in here. Your dad is doing the final toast.” His cousin, Jonathan’s voice comes from the balcony doorway. The sudden noise causes Steve to jump and look back towards the door. When he turns back around, Eddie is gone. Almost like a ghost in the night if it wasn’t for the boot prints in the snow. “Who were you talking to?” Jonathan asks with a puzzled look on his face as Steve walks back into the warmth of the castle.
“Oh, it was no one.” Steve pats Jonathan’s shoulder as he passes. Despite his words, Steve knows that Eddie Munson wasn’t no one.