Daphné Aubert

There has been a flurry of activity at the palace over the weekend, and rumours abound of an impending announcement.

Could we be seeing a date set for the Royal Wedding soon?

God almighty ~

Woof~

The People’s Princess.

“Oui, it certainly does ~”

“Do we have enough food to keep Claire fed, my love?”

Daphne kissed the top of Joan’s head, an arm wrapped around her, her free hand entrancing the twins as the waved her fingers about.

“But I agree. We’re overdue for a family dinner~”

“Masquerade? Non, I have far too much to do today. I do know several people in attendance though. Give them my love~”

You ever just stare at the woman you love, while cradling their child, and think:

"How did someone /that/ beautiful fall for me?"

Look at her profile. The cut curve of her nose. Her chiseled jawline. Her cheekbones.

“Bonjour Paris~

M’avez-vous manqué?”

LaPrincessDArc made a post on her socials:

Back in Domremy for a little while as my recovery continues. Petite Céline is enchanted by the first signs of spring.

“Welcome home, ma petite~”

Céline Isabelle Sophie D’Arc-Aubert, Princesse de France, Comtesse de Paris, Duchesse d’Avignon.

You are more to me than all the riches and castles in France and all the stars in the sky.

Ma belle. Ma petite fille.

“‘Mm-“

Daphné glanced at her phone.

“She’s on her way, I think. Do you-“

She hesitated. Was now the time? Surely…

The queen sat at her princess’ bedside, taking her hand and planting a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

“Do you want me to reach out to Harry as well?”

Daphné is there, of course, pacing back and forth in Joan’s room.

She looks down at the floor, wondering if she’s worn a rut in it yet.

“Are you well, mon coeur? Do you need anything?”

It’s the hundredth time she’s asked, easily, but she’ll ask a hundred more.

- scalp.

“Presque fini, mon coeur~”

It was patchy, rough in places, but undeniably beautiful.

“Could you pass me the shortest head? I want to make sure you’re perfect before I offer you the mirror~”

Daphné clipped another lock off, catching it as it fell and setting it aside.

It would make a lovely gift for Eleanor, after all.

Squeezing Joan gently between her legs, she cooed as she worked, alternating between gentle kisses and simpers over how well Joan was doing, and rough tugs at her-

“I want,” the queen whispered against her wife’s lips, “to hurt you. Will you scream for me, my love~?”

She sat back, reaching for the clippers, clicking them on with a wicked grin.

Taking a fistful of Joan’s hair and pulling her back, she buzzed one lock off, lifting it clean away in her hand.

- canvas, and I will burn myself into you forever~”

Her words were delivered with the utmost of affection, and only the tiniest edge of an enjoyable cruelty.

She’d seen it on horses when she was a child, smelled the burning flesh and hot metal, and it had changed her irrevocably.

“When we are married, we’ll exchange rings, and we’ll exchange vows, and that night, when it is just the three of us, I will find somewhere of my choosing on your beautiful-

Daphné took a moment, the words washing over her. She set the clippers aside.

Taking Joan’s cheeks in her hands, she leaned forward to look her in the eye, her face hard.

“My love, I would like nothing more than to sear myself permanently into your perfect, pale skin.”

- Joan’s head back into her lap again, stealing another kiss as she did.

Daphné held up two fingers in a peace sign as Joan snapped her picture, giggling as she did.

“Mm? Of course you can, my love.”

She was studying the clippers, making sure they were clean, as much for sanitation as to stall.

Clicking them on and off again, satisfied that they worked, she pulled-

“Are you ready, my love?”

She ran another hand through Joan’s locks. The queen would miss them, even if they’d be back before long.

But until then, she’d have Joan, buzzed short, all to herself.

Could she convince Eleanor too…

Daphné ran her fingers through her wife-to-be’s hair, taking a gentle grip to tilt her head back, allowing her to plant a gentle kiss against her lips.

She had been busy lately, so very busy. Running a country, planning a wedding… but these moments were what gave her the strength to push on.

Oh, mon coeur~

Oui, of course. Come sit yourself between my legs my love.

I may be royalty now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like playing dangerous~

"Effortlessly beautiful..."

"Born to be a princess..."

"A smile to make you melt..."

"The cameras flock to her..."

It is good to be free. To hear and read such kind, loving words.

La beauté de France.

Ma Princesse~

“It’s pronounced 𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯”