Warning: transphobic comments are present within this oneshot; however, wholesome ending

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"Have you seen the wonderful tapestries glittering on the wall?" His younger brother pointed out as the taller englishman only scoffed at the fabricated pattern. "Not interested?"

The Englishman would never show any other emotion in the chocolate eyes of his besides dullness as he only shrugged. "I'm not here for the art or beautiful fabricated lies, Caid."

His younger brother, Caiden, looked nothing like him. He had a muscular build with dashing lime eyes and tangled orange hair that curled all the way around. The Englishman noted this everytime he gave a glimpse at his Scottish brother and crossed his arms.

"Oh right. The big party! Clearly you will still be a virgin at the end of the night! Just because she is forced to marry you mean she won't fuck ya rough ~" teased the Scottish male, who darted out of striking range and took down the hall. The Englishman knew he should follow the Scot and beat him senseless; however, his back ached, he ached for tea and he ached for silence.

He roamed around the foreign castle, trying to get the attention of a maid or butler; however, they seemed to ignore. His brown eyes snapped to a door opening and a tail of a dress catching his eye.

"Excuse me ma'am," Archie placed a finger up, softly knocking and hearing a muffled response. He pushed open the door ever so slightly and got shoved into the floor.

"XCUSE MOI, THE PRINCESS SHALL NOT BE SPIED ON!!" the woman had her brown hair twisted up into a bun while a dark figure covered her chest area.

"O-oh! I apologize!" Archie stammered as his brown eyes darted to the floor. "I just... Was in need of finding the kitchen to get some tea—"

"Down the hall. First on the left." the taller woman barked as she turned back in the room, slamming the heavily decorated door as if she was trying to prove her worth.

The woman in the room stuck in his thoughts as he tried to piece together what the princess had looked like from rumors to pictures he have seen in the newspaper. Would she be the one to dance with him all night long? He felt a shiver slither down his spine as a waitress handed him some tea.

"My ruler has read a lot about you," the waitress handed him a green-leaf tea, smoke rising from the hot liquid as the briton so delicately took it.

"R-really? I'm speechless! And I barely know anything about her..." Archie murmured quietly to himself in awe as the waitress winced at his sentence. "Something...?"

"I must hurry back S-sir Archie..." She stuttered quietly, pressing the platter she was carrying close to her chest as she took off back towards the kitchen diligently.

"How strange..." He murmured, glancing down at the clock. He spun on his heels, passing the now locked door with pleas not being heard.

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The giant ballroom held many chandeliers hanging from the golden ceiling. The white walls were covered in velvet satin that fell to the floor in beautiful patterns. The floor was packful of forgetful faces that all blurred together.

Archie bumped through the crowd, his body snaking around people and his chocolate eyes reacked of determination. "Excuse me— excuse me—"

And that's when he felt someone's hand softly trace itself along his backside, his face felt hot as he spun around, noticing a blonde staring at him with a pink laced dress.

"W-wait-!" Archie chased after the unfamiliar face. She sparked his interest as he spotted her small figure on the balcony, alone. He straightened his tie and repositioned his hat as he took a daring breath and opened the glass door. The wind brushed his face coldly as the woman still had her exposed, pale skin to him.

"Now, I don't know where you grew up but-" the closer he got, the more her features became clearer. She was taller than him and her blonde hair brushed down to her shoulders. Her frail figure made him raise an eyebrow as he asked. "... Are you... Okay princess?"

She gave a soft nod as her white gloves began to become caked in dirt. She had tons of tons of jewelry latched onto her neck and her purple eyes didn't dare to meet Archie.

"Do you... Parler anglais...?" He butchered the French pronunciation, which brought a small smile to the Princess's face while she gave a small nod.

"THERE YOU ARE—" Their conversation got interrupted by the woman that shoved the gent to the ground. "DIDN'T I SAY NOT TO COME OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM???" Her brown eyes glistened with anger as she spun on her heels towards Archie. "AND YOU, YOUR DATE IS WAITING ALL ALONE."

"No need to shout, ma'am. I can hear you just fine," hissed the Briton as he bit his lip, not wanting to sass his hostess anymore. "Besides, I am having quite fun-"

"Please, Mom, just go!!" A male voice escaped from what Archie believed to be a girl shouted. His feminine body took a babystep towards his mother as Archie remained quiet at their quarrel.

"You think I am going to let a lowlife you ruin the mood with your crossdressing ideas!?!?" His mother hissed as she seized his gloved wrist, twisting it until tears began to leak out.

"Pardon, I know I am in no way involved but I don't see the issue in your son... Daughter... wanting to be who they believe they are. Shouldn't we, yanno, be supportive?"

"Be supportive...?" His mother choked out, her words became twisted and convulted in her throat. "He's a mistake. Just like you siding with this... Sinner." His mother shoved the male into the floor, snaking away from the scene and glancing over her shoulder. "Archie... Was it? If you knew what was good for you, I'd run."

Archie kneeled down to help the fallen male who only slapped the friendly hand away.

"Just, leave me. I know you think I'm a freak and I heard your preachings all before so spare me the 'talk'," the Frenchman's voice snarled as he dusted off his dress and crossed his arms. His broken orbs tearing up as he clenched his pearly whites together.

Archie moved softly to the male's side, not understanding the hatred energy that radiated off of his Mum. His brown eyes awkwardly glanced off to the side, he began to play with the cuffs of his sleeves until he pushed through the silence. "I think you look gorgeous tonight."

"..."

"I think you look stunning. You obviously planned for this ball for a long time. May I ask why?"

"..."

"Nothing important or shy?" Archie raised an eyebrow until he got the frenchman to bite back a smile.

"You and your stupid accent..." The frenchman murmured as the British male slugged his shoulder.

"Heard that statement! You can tell me, don't worry."

"I've always wanted to meet someone and know here I am, I got to meet him! I wanted to tell him how much seeing him in the papers mean to me and how I feel-!"

Archie blinked, his obliviousness couldn't be more clearer as Francis gave a soft sigh.

"He wouldn't of been okay with dating a... Male..." He choked out as he picked at the laces that covered his chest area. "... Not that I was ever a male but... Who would want to date me when you're as awesome as you?"

"What do you mean that you're not a male?" He inquired as the taller crossed his arms.

"You wouldn't understand. You wouldn't listen either."

"Try me."

"I've never felt comfortable as... A male. I am not a male. I am who I want to be. This dysphoria shaped me into this and I know it's hard to understand but," the male cut off as Archie's dull eyes sparked up for once. "I don't go by Francis anymore. It's Paris."

Her voice enchanted the Briton's mind as he gave a soft nod. "It's alright, Francis."

"Paris but it's fine—" The Frenchwoman was cut off by the Englishman waving her off and saying, "it's alright, Paris."

Silence developed around the two of them. The moon shimmered in the night sky as a shooting star soared past.

"Make a wish," Paris chirped as Archie gave a soft chuckle and closed his eyes. Seconds later, he opened them and heard, "what'd you wish for?"

"A dance with this enchanting Frenchwoman next to me and a lovely night together, just you and I," he answered honestly. Seeing the purple orbs of the taller beam, he gave a small grin, his ache for romance beginning to bloom softly.

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