Chapter Text
Sophia Monad had always dreamed of freedom, freedom from the pressures of the social class, freedom from her parents’ expectations, even freedom from her duties. The reality, however, was that she had never once been able to escape them–the chains that bound her. Ever since the early years of her childhood, she found herself constantly staring up at the skies and envying every little bird that flew overhead, and the fluttering butterflies that navigated the maze of garden flowers. In fact, it was one of those days, on a fresh and breezy spring afternoon, that she sat on a blanket that had been laid for her in the gardens.
Sophia's blue eyes were fixed on a bird’s nest perched on a tree overlooking the intricate palace gardens. She sighed as she watched the mother fly from the nest and glide through the skies. A groan escaped her lips as she shut her eyes tightly. Why had she been born a royal? As the only true daughter of the Monad Royal Family of Krat, Sophia was tasked with too many ‘important’ tasks, and now that she was of age, she seldom had time for herself. Thus, she wanted to treasure every single second of her time under the sun.
A silent presence that appeared behind her drew her attention. He was always quiet in all his movements, never one to be noticed, always like the inner workings of a well-oiled machine that never stopped, but were never seen. Yet she had learned how to feel him floating around her; after all, he’d been assigned as her personal knight for a few years now.
She turned to the young man, a smile spreading across her small lips at the sight of his calm blue eyes and soft, wavy black hair. He had always been a sight to behold, so beautiful, gentle, and yet terribly strong.
“You're back already?” She raised a thin eyebrow, head tilting. “Did you get back this morning?”
Pinocchio nodded. He was a man of very, very few words. Sophia had never once heard him speak, but she knew he could talk; at least, that was what the grand butler Gemini told her. At first, she found his lack of communication infuriating. She had assumed it was ordered by her father so that she wouldn’t grow attached. It was only after she’d provoked him a handful of times, and he still kept silent, that she realized it wasn’t out of spite, but rather it was a part of who he was. A silent creature, he kept mostly to himself and only focused on the mission at hand.
Sophia frowned. She shifted, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, and her gaze flicked up at him. “You ought to have gone to rest; the journey from the Alchemists’ Isle must’ve been tiresome,” she said. A chilly breeze, with the aftertaste of winter, blew, rattling the flowers and casting a chill down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, mindlessly warming herself up with her hands.
The young man stepped toward her and knelt before her. Expression unchanging, and blank as always.
She watched him with her big, curious blue eyes.
In a swift motion, he pulled off his blue tailcoat and draped it around her shoulders. His eyes seemed to speak to her, but she could only guess what they said.
“Thank you, my dearest knight,” she smiled up at him, “you’re always so gentle.”
He offered her a curt nod and got back on his feet. He turned from her and stood still, as he always did. When Sophia didn’t know him too well, she used to joke that he was more like a doll than a human; he would never talk back, always obedient, sent from one battle to another, always at the whim of his master, never once living for himself. It definitely wasn’t a funny joke, but when it came to how her father ruled, nothing was ever really a joke.
Sophia snaked her hands into the sleeves of the tailcoat and wrapped it tighter around herself. It was as if he’d been in an evergreen forest, how the smell of fresh pine needles permeated the soft fabric. It was one of the many things she admired about him.
“I was starting to bore without you,” she spoke again, still staring at his back. He shifted, straightening his posture. “You know Gemini is nothing like you; he talks too much for his own good.”
A butterfly fluttered around the man for a few seconds.
"How was the trip? Did you encounter any dangers? Did you meet anyone new?”
The birds responded with chirps to fill the silence between them.
“Father claims you're my knight, yet he sends you to and fro like a rag doll. Are you really even mine?” She huffed.
She caught the smallest of movements from her knight, his head turned ever so slightly, as if lending her his ear. She’d grown accustomed to talking to him, about her day, about her innermost longings, about her fears. Since he never said a word, she knew her secrets were always kept unsaid from his lips. She’d also noticed how attentive he would become, listening to her every word and acknowledging her, in small ways, but enough to encourage her. He was not just a wall to bounce her words off of, but he truly listened, more than anyone else in her life had.
“Sir P,” she called out to him, and this time he fully turned towards her. “Why don’t you sit with me? Since you didn’t rest, how about we enjoy the sun together?”
He didn’t budge.
“Pinocchio,” she warned, lips stretching into a thin line. “Sit with me, please.” It wasn’t an order, and she knew that he could tell.
Pinocchio shook his head.
“Why not?” Sophia’s voice came out more frustrated than she had intended.
Pinocchio took a deep breath, and he opened his mouth, as if he were about to speak.
Sophia’s eyes widened, and she unconsciously leaned towards him, eager to hear his voice.
“Princess!” A voice called out to her from afar.
Sophia rolled her eyes and faced the palace. From behind the rose bushes, Gemini emerged, his face frantic, golden eyes laced with worry. His dark brown hair, usually slicked and neatly arranged, was now messy and loose. She forced a smile.
“What is it, Gemini?” She asked once he reached the pair. “What’s made you so agitated?”
Gemini took a moment to steady his breath. “Princess,” he panted, “where on earth have you been?” He began. “Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were? All the staff have been desperately searching for you.”
Sophia wanted to fall back on the floor. If Pinocchio were the only one there, then she most likely would; she never had to pretend around him. Instead, she straightened, extending her hand out to Pinocchio, who lent her his mechanical arm. She meant only for him to steady her; instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist, took her hand in his right hand, and lifted her as if she weighed no more than a butterfly. She settled her beating heart by reminding herself that it was only his duty to serve her. Once he settled her on her feet, she dusted herself off from the grass blades she had picked at and fixed her hair, which cascaded down her back much like a steady stream.
“You should’ve known I was here, Sir Pinocchio did,” she deadpanned.
Gemini groaned. “Well, Sir Pinocchio is of a different calibre. We all pale in comparison.”
Sophia heard the short scoff of a laugh that escaped the knight’s lips, the one he’d failed to suppress. She smiled.
“The king requests your presence most urgently,” Gemini announced, fixing his hair.
Sophia took a deep breath and nodded. “Show me the way,” she said, only then realizing she was still holding onto her knight’s right hand.
Sometime within the past year, they’d begun to lean on one another more; innocent, gentle touches lingered, eyes locked, breaths fell in tune. She assumed it started during a particularly uncomfortable ball where a young nobleman had cornered her on a balcony, and she cried in Pinocchio’s arms later that night in the gardens. After that, she had mindlessly reached towards him more and more. Sometimes she wondered if Pinocchio didn't push her away simply because she was the princess, but still she hoped it was because he enjoyed her company too.
She slipped from his ghostly grip and followed after Gemini, who was still trying to compose himself.
Sophia closed her eyes, enjoying the soft breeze and chirping birds, letting the bright sun warm her face. She etched the smell of roses and pine into her mind, not wishing to forget it any time soon. This was how she usually prepared her heart before facing her father. Her father wasn’t a bad man, per se; he was always kind and warm with her and her sister, but he was a king before he was her father, and Sophia knew that would never change.
Before long, the three of them arrived at the doors of her father’s study. Gemini’s eyes ran over her from head to toe as a frown formed on his face.
Sophia raised a light brown eyebrow. “Am I not presentable?” She asked, hiding her frown behind a neutral expression.
“You surely don’t intend to step before your father in such… attire,” Gemini finally spoke, hands clasped behind his back and eyes flickering to the silent knight behind them.
Sophia blinked.
He cleared his throat. “It would be wise to advise you against wearing Sir Pinocchio’s coat in the King’s presence.”
“Oh,” she flinched, glancing down at herself. She could only dread what would happen if her father were to see her in that way. Sophia slipped out of the coat and handed it back to her knight. “Thank you, once again,” she mumbled, her eyes falling from his. “Let’s head inside,” she turned back to Gemini.
She knew Pinocchio nodded, as he always did.
“The King wishes to meet you alone,” Gemini said, head tilted in a bow.
Sophia sighed. “Very well,” she nodded and turned to Pinocchio once again. “Wait for me in the garden, and rest. Please.”
Pinocchio blinked.
Sophia shook her head. “Please ensure he rests,” she told Gemini, lips pursed in slight irritation.
Gemini gave a nod of acknowledgement before he opened the mahogany doors, announcing Sophia’s presence.
Sophia had been to her father’s study only a handful of times, always when he required her in dire matters of the crown. They were rare and far between, thus dread coiled in her gut. Once Gemini closed the doors behind her, Sophia lifted her head and curtsied. “Your Majesty,” she greeted in a low curtsy.
“Sophia, my dear princess,” Valentinus stood from the opulent armchair he’d been seated on. He walked to her and drew her into a hug.
“My king,” she smiled. She always welcomed his warm hugs.
“Why don’t you greet our guest, darling?” He asked as he stepped aside.
It was only at that moment that she noticed a man seated on the couch diagonal to her father’s armchair. The man stood, and immediately a chill scurried over Sophia’s spine. An old and healed scar ran over his left eye and down his face, a full beard obscuring half of it. He removed his top hat and greeted her with a deep bow. He was a big man, with wide shoulders, standing at a towering height, and one blue eye that pierced her. On his lapel was a brooch, one she recognized as belonging to the Alchemists. She knew of him; she had seen him around a handful of times, lingering around her father and going through the palace, but she’d never so much as directed a word his way.
“My humble greetings,” she managed as she bowed. A pain crept into her chest, one she always got when something sinister lingered around her. The Alchemists, although established by her father, were never to be trusted. Gemini had told her too much of their dealings for her to ignore the fact.
“Meet Duke Simon Manus, he is also head of the Alchemists,” Valentinus introduced her. “Come, take a seat.” He led her to the couch and sat her next to the man.
Sophia sat in silence, her heart beating hard enough to close her throat. Her mind was thrown into chaos with all the possible reasons as to why her father had called her to meet the man. She was well aware of her single most important duty: marriage, and she dreaded it with her entire being. Her eyes rested on the intricate teapot on the table before them, tracing the patterns of the flowers and leaves.
“Duke Simon has been a dear friend and strong supporter of mine; were you aware of that?” Her father smiled at her.
Sophia had heard his name whispered among the staff, but it was never followed by anything nice. “I must admit that I never knew the Duke was close to his Majesty,” she replied, forcing a practiced smile on her lips, a blatant lie that she regretted uttering instantly.
“I owe him quite a lot, my dear,” Valentinus continued, “I have promised him whatever he desires–” Sophia’s heart fell, her breath caught in her throat– “and while he thinks about what reward he'd like, he will be spending a few days with us at the palace. I thought it would be nice if you showed him around.”
“With pleasure, your highness,” she affirmed. She would have been stupid not to think about what was to come. She had tried to push the idea of her inevitable marriage away from her mind for as long as possible, but she knew the day her father sold her off would come sooner rather than later.
“Perfect,” the King smiled, “go on ahead and let him see the gardens you adore so much.”
Sophia lowered her head; what looked like a courteous nod to her father was actually to hide her disappointment. The only people that Sophia had shown her spot in the gardens to were her sister, her dear knight, and Gemini. No one else had ever been allowed to enter, not even her own mother, let alone a man she already disliked. Still, she obliged; the man didn't have to know it was a precious place for her. It was in moments like these that she cursed herself for always being obedient at her own expense, especially at her own expense.
Leaving her father's office went rather smoothly after a few formalities. However, walking in step next to her was Duke Simon. The silence was interrupted by the clicking of her heels and the thump of his cane. He held an air of importance; how much of it was self-importance, you couldn't force it out of Sophia even if you held her at the end of a musket. Well, maybe if a pair of blue eyes and freckled cheeks begged her.
Sophia berated herself for ordering Gemini to usher her knight away. She knew Pinocchio had most likely been reluctant to leave her side, so she wondered what the butler had done to lure him away. She was suffering the consequences of her actions.
“Do you spend a lot of time in the gardens?” The Duke’s deep voice penetrated the empty palace halls.
“Not particularly,” she answered. She didn't want to engage in conversation, but she knew better than to be negligent of her company, especially as a princess. Still, Sophia didn’t spare him a glance, eyes set on the end of the hall.
“Tell me about yourself, princess,” he said, his tone serious and strict. It was more like he was ordering her to answer than asking her.
Sophia didn’t like it.
“Surely you have some hobbies.”
Sophia obliged, “I do like tending to the garden, but it is simply one of my many duties as a princess. As well as embroidering and playing the piano. Sometimes my sister duets with me.” Her hands remained stiffly set in front of her, breathing regulated, and steps steady and calculated.
“Such delicate pastimes, as delicate as you, my princess,” he complimented with a smile.
Sophia’s eyes flicked to him, the first time she had since they left her father’s study. That smile of his, she knew it too well, many men had given her the same look. It held a malice she didn’t wish to name, as if he possessed her, as if all she was only a means to an end. She bit back a look of disgust that threatened to break her practiced poise; her father would probably reprimand her for showing anything other than grace.
“I hear you keep to yourself, do you not enjoy travelling?”
“Where would I need to go if I have everything I need?” A lie, she hated being trapped within the palace grounds.
Duke Simon nodded in understanding. “Then again, what will you do when this is no longer your home?” His thick, burly eyebrow raised in question.
Sophia turned away from him, blue eyes trained on the glass doors they were reaching. If she disliked being in his presence for an hour, she feared what the following days would be like.
Duke Simon opened the door for her, eyes fixated on her. “My princess, you must have thought about the possibility at least once,” he added.
The fresh breeze struck her once more upon stepping into the gardens. She took a moment to appreciate it; the palace had been suffocating. “What use is there when I have no say?”
“That much is true,” he deadpanned, extending his arm out to her so that she’d take it. “Still, it’s best to be prepared, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sophia had already ignored him once; she knew she couldn’t repeat the same trick. She accepted his gesture as they stepped into the cobbled path. At the fountain, she spotted the young man, her knight. He stood still, eyes fixed on the statue of the lady pouring a basin in the center of the fountain. He wasn’t wearing his tailcoat, which made her wonder where he’d set it down.
“That’s one of Gepetto’s boys, isn’t he?” Duke Simon’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
Sophia nodded. “Are you familiar with the family?” She asked.
Simon smirked. “Yes, Gepetto is a friend of mine. I could never really tell his boys apart; they’re identical.” Sophia would say otherwise. “This one’s the younger one, correct? P…Pinocchio? I always thought it to be a strange name,” he scoffed. “But he’s such a brilliant little human, I’m always amazed by how obedient and submissive he is, almost like he can’t think for himself.”
Sophia clenched her jaw. She wanted to pry herself from his arm, away from his repulsive touch and horrid intentions. A true lady endures, she reminded herself.
The young man snapped towards them, eyes staring at Simon with what could’ve been seen as indifference, but Sophia recognized the flinch in his right hand that was drawn to the weapon strapped to his waist.
“Why, if it isn’t Gepetto’s puppet,” Simon greeted.
Pinocchio acknowledged the man with a slight tilt of his head. Sophia, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the shock on her face. She'd heard the whispers, the nicknames the nobility called him; she hated it.
“Duke Simon,” she almost gasped as she pulled away from the man, as if his arm burned her, “I demand you be more respectful towards my knight.”
Simon’s lips stretched into an amused smile. “My princess.” He let the words hang in the air for a few seconds. “I have but the utmost respect for the young lord. Isn’t that right?” His eye flickered to Pinocchio.
Pinocchio only breathed.
Sophia stood firm. “I do not appreciate you belittling one of my people.”
Simon frowned. “That was hardly belittling. You take things much too gravely; a lady needs to have some sort of humour.”
An infuriating man, Simon was.
Sophia’s gaze hardened on Simon. “I will be taking my leave first, as I suddenly feel ill,” she all but spat.
Simon slowly shook his head as he stepped towards her. “It would be wise to start thinking of life outside these palace walls, darling,” he whispered once he was close enough. “The day you’ll be whisked away may come sooner than you expect.” He took a lock of her brown hair between his fingers and brought it to his lips. “I’m looking forward to seeing that special little place of yours.”
Sophia stepped back, away from Simon, her hair slipping from his ghostly grasp. His blue eye stared her down; her heart thundered in her chest. She was but a defenceless rabbit before a mighty panther; she didn’t like being seen as prey. The urge to douse herself in soap and water for hours crept up on her the more he stared at her.
Pinocchio cleared his throat, and Simon straightened, offering her one last smile.
Pinocchio stepped between the pair and quickly bowed his head before taking Sophia’s arm and wrapping it around his own, forcing her feet to move to follow him away from the palace gardens.