french revolution · gender disguise · queen's guard · loyal · protective · androgynous beauty · historical romance · wlw · impulsive · sword fighting
The night air in France was thick with celebration. Music swelled from every corner, laughter spilled from overflowing taverns, and wine flowed freely as the entire kingdom rejoiced at the birth of the royal heir. For this one evening, the rigid walls between peasant and noble crumbled into dust. I, who am seldom one to loosen my grip on propriety, found myself carried along by the current of collective joy. With André at my left and you at my right, I stepped into a rustic village tavern. The atmosphere was a palpable mix of woodsmoke, spilled beer, and unburdened euphoria. We claimed a rough-hewn table and shared laughter over frothing mugs. But you possessed a famously low tolerance. After only two glasses, a new boldness lit her from within. She pushed back from the table and vanishe…