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thecapturedafrique · 11 months

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HLAW: Day 5—Hana(ra)’s Perfect Wedding!

Like several members of the fandom, I too ship Hana and Kiara together, and though I have yet to write the fic where they fall in love, I’ve long since come up list of head canons about their wedding. I originally meant to share this for Kiara’s first appreciation week, but I wasn’t able to finish on time. Fortunately, one of the benefits to being a Hanara shipper is that their romantic content can work for both characters’ weeks! 😆

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek and the stupendous hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes!

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This moodboard was designed to reflect the Pinboard that Hana would 100% make for her wedding to Kiara given the numerous ones she’s crafted in canon.

Bridal Ring Sets

The ring on the left is the one Hana chooses for Kiara; I initially searched for a ring similar to Hana's ring for MC in canon but didn't want a one-to-one match, and then I diverged further by selecting one with a vine design to reference Castelsareillan (aka Rowan’s tattoos which I head canon were tribal in nature and design). The side stones are diamonds since they’re both the ducal stone and Kiki’s birthstone, but Hana went with moissanite for the central stone since it's not as hard and refracts more multi-colored light, representing how there's more to Kiara than what the surface may show and that she is a lot more kind and sweet and thoughtful than her tough facade leads people to expect.

For the ring Kiara gives to Hana*, resetting a family heirloom is very popular in France, especially with traditional affluent families. The ruby was originally from her late maternal grandmother’s engagement ring, and Kiara had it reset in a rose gold band to match her own since Hana proposed first. Due to the canonical Cordonian tradition of lovers throwing a copper, a silver, and a gold coin into a well to guarantee that they stay together for eternity, I head canon that rose gold—which is made of those three metals—is a popular choice in Cordonia for engagement/anniversary jewelry. The wedding band is inlaid with opals since they're the ducal stone of Hana’s duchy, Chrysopolis.

*I was also partly inspired by @masked-alien-lesbian’s beautiful pick to find a more floral design than my original choice, and when I found one with embellishments that mirrored butterflies as well, I knew it was the one.

Bridal Party

In Chinese numerology, 8 is considered one of the most auspicious numbers, with 2, 3, and 6 also being lucky in general. As such, the bridal party is a total of 6 people (3 for each side) who combined with the 2 brides equal 8 in total.

Hana's Bridesmaids: Ally (MOH), Olivia, and Ganga

In my version of events, Olivia actually does offer a genuine apology to Hana in the beer garden scene at the end of TRR2, and so by the time Hana’s planning her wedding, the two have grown close enough for her to ask Liv to be her bridesmaid.

The name Ganga may be familiar to anyone who read Hana’s character page, as she’s one of Hana’s second cousins on her mother’s side. They meet and bond over the course of my reimagined TRH series Silver Spoons.

Kiara's Témoins: Penelope (MOH), Zeke, and Savannah

Instead of bridesmaids and groomsmen, French couples have témoins (witnesses) of any gender/age that stand next to them during the ceremonies. While Penelope is still courteously given the MOH title, Ally is the one who provides the most support in regard to the planning/corralling.

Wedding

Following Moroccan and Chinese traditions, the wedding celebration is several days long. I also head canon that many western regions of Cordonia outside of the five major duchies have three-day-length celebrations, including the regality from which Hana’s maternal family hails. The negafa (wedding planner) is Kiki’s paternal aunt Leïla, who is assisted by Hana’s own aunt Yawen.

Day 1: Castelsareillan

Hammam

In Morocco on the first day of a wedding celebration, the bride spends a day in the hammam (a type of steam bath or place of public bathing akin to a spa) with her companions, treating themselves with multiple body masks, scrubs, and massages as part of a bridal ritual of purification and beauty. Hanara chooses the baths and spa in Applewood visited in TRR2 and attend with their bridal party sans Zeke.

Bachelorette Party

Their joint party is thrown in Côte d'Or, the Cordonian gambling district visited in RoE which in my verse is located in one of Castelsareillan’s vassalages off the coast. Aside from the standard night on the town events, Ally also arranges a series of chuangmen (Chinese door games) for the couple to play: an alcoholic version of the Four Flavors of Life, Q&A Tests, and a Sweet Serenade karaoke session.

The theme is a rainbow, with everyone wearing a different colored dress: Ally in red, Ganga in orange, Kiara in yellow gold, Olivia in green, Penelope in blue, Savannah in purple, and Hana in pink. All of the bridesmaids wear the same cap-sleeved sequined style, while the brides’ outfits are pictured below:

Day 2: Samsara

Henna Party

Both Morocco and India have wedding traditions involving decorating the bride’s hands and feet with henna (mehndi being the South Asian term for the body art itself). Lorelai’s cousin Aparna offers her estate in Samsara (a western regality in Cordonia) as the venue, and the party is a long affair filled with food and music.

Hana wears a pink sari while Kiki dons a green kaftan. Since the brides plan to walk down the aisle the next day, they’re carried to their seats in the amaria (an elegant roofed platform) by four men: Zeke, Drake, Bertrand, and the male cousin Kiara mentions in TRR3 who I named Patrice and head canon is Joëlle’s nephew.

Having forgone a wedding shower, the brides open their gifts during the party, some of which revolve around the traditional “something old” rhyme (with the givers corresponding to whose side they walk on):

Something Old: received during the tea ceremony

Something New: white lotus hair stick (Ally), silver and onyx Berber necklace (Zeke)

Something Borrowed: Scarlet Handkerchief (Liv), Golden Tiara* (Penelope)

Something Blue: garter set (Savannah), nagapadam mala (Ganga)

*The Golden Tiara is the House treasure that was granted to the Amaranth’s when they were elevated in 1600 C.E. It was rumored that while donned, the makeup of any who wore it would remain flawless.

Rehearsal Dinner

The ribbons and bows from unwrapping the gifts are turned into two giant bouquets that the brides use for the following wedding rehearsal in place of the garlands they’ll be using for the real ceremony. They also incorporate some elements of the nischayam, an Indian Malayalee engagement ceremony generally held to formally announce the marriage, which includes exchanging horoscopes as well as the mothiram maattal (ring exchange). Since pigs are favored animals in Chinese culture, Kiara’s pet teacup pig Tambour acts as the ring bearer. At the end of the rehearsal dinner, the couple signs their marriage license following both French and Moroccan tradition (the latter of which call this ceremony Drib Sdak).

Day 3: Chrysopolis

Shutou & Jing Cha

The morning of the third and final wedding day begins in Hana’s manor in Chrysopolis with the Chinese shutou or hair combing ceremony performed by their mothers Lorelai and Joëlle. Immediately afterwards, the two change into their traditional formal wear (Hana in a qungua and Kiara in a takshita) before heading downstairs for the jing cha or tea ceremony, where their aunts have built an ancestral altar for the occasion.

The ceremony is done with both families at the same time, and in return for the tea that the couple offer, their families offer them golden jewelry and red envelopes filled with money called hongbao. They also receive from their fathers the “something old” gift that’s been passed down by their late grandmothers: a set of golden phoenix & dragon bangles for Hana and silver Berber bracelets for Kiara.

Vow Exchange

The exchanging of vows takes place outside in the sunflower garden. Kiki’s four-year-old cousin mentioned in TRH2 serves as the flower girl, and the bridal party are all dressed in a reddish mulberry and adorned with golden jewelry*. The brides change into their white outfits (Hana wearing the same dress as in canon and a veil, while Kiara dons a jumpsuit with a cape) and walk down the T-shaped aisle on the arms of their fathers to meet each other.

Hakim place Kiara’s hand in Hana’s and Xinghai hands them a pair of scissors before leaving the two to continue their march together. In a slightly altered French tradition, they must cut through the rows of white ribbons stretched across the aisle to reach the dais, where they exchange a set of garlands made from roses, fire lilies, jasmine, sunflowers, and Vescovi (magic) flowers in the Hindi jayamala ceremony, a pledge which substitutes their “I Do’s.”

Liam acts as the officiant and joins the couple’s hands together following the Agni Hito tradition of using a red string to represent their fates being bound. He hands them each a lambatha (Greek taper candle) to hold as the brides recite their individual customized vows to one another. They then use the lambathes to light a brazier filled with Heartoak wood which is placed before them.

This functions as the sacred fire for the saat phere, a Hindu wedding ritual continued by the Agni Hito where the couple walks around the fire seven times while reciting specific vows. Each circuit holds a certain meaning. Once the seventh one has been completed, Liam pronounces the two wives, and butterflies are released as they share their first kiss as a married couple.

*One of the bridal party’s statement pieces is a golden pin in the design of Hanara’s onnamon, pictured below. Mon are Japanese emblems that function similar to heraldic charges, and onnamon specifically are created by women after marriage through modifying her original family kamon. The Agni Hito, being of Japanese lineage, continued to use them within Cordonia. After becoming the Duchess of Chrysopolis, Hana adopted a new mon by turning her mother’s kamon/charge (the cherry blossom) into a butterfly-shape.

Reception

The rice toss is performed while the newlyweds exit down the aisle before everyone heads inside, where the vin d’honour (the French equivalent of a cocktail hour) is held. Kir Royale cocktails made with Cristal champagne and chocolate-coated almonds called les dragées are served, and both mahjong and mancala are played. Once all of the ~200 attendees have been greeted, they drive to the banquet hall with a liberal use of horns preceding the “just married” limo.

Each guest upon their arrival signs the livre des visiteurs (guestbook), delivers their hongbao, touches a set of oranges for good luck, and washes their hands in the orange blossom water. Ouzo and Moroccan mint tea are offered until everyone has been seated for the grand entrance, where under a shower of petals and sparklers, the newlyweds perform a TRR 2.0 Olivia-style change into their reception dresses pictured below (Hana on the left and Kiara on the right):

Thanks to @lizzybeth1986 for sharing the tumblr post with these lovely designs!

They step onto the floor with their fathers for the first dance, which they finish as a couple following French tradition. The song is one that Hana composed titled Le jardin de l'amour and performed by Kaitlyn Liao. The feast itself is a ten-course affair that contains a vast variety of cultural dishes, including drunken shrimp, butter chicken, Peking duck, pork jiaozi, tangine, bird’s nest soup, and seffa. Maxwell serves as the emcee, and toasts are given in between the various acts.

Friends provide most of the entertainment, including a ballad sung by the Cordonian Quartet, but there are also lion dancers and firecrackers following Chinese tradition. Halfway through, the couple changes into their final outfits for the night (a red qipao for Hana and a kaftan jumpsuit for Kiara). Once the last course has been served, the croquembouche (a French dessert that serves as the wedding cake) is wheeled out along with a Cordonian Ruby for the apple-cutting ceremony.

After feeding each other a slice of both, the dancing begins. The party lasts long into the night, but just before the newlyweds retire for the evening, they take part in another French tradition: eating a dish from a brand new pot de chambre (chamber pot). The bottom is lined by bananas and covered with melted chocolate before the leftover alcohol from the wedding is poured in. After the couple’s takes a drink and eats a spoonful of the gooey contents, the rest is left to be finished off by the bridal party.

Honeymoon

Lorelai’s wedding gift is the most expensive home in China, and it is here in Shanghai where Hana and Kiara spend the first week of their honeymoon, which ends with the Mid-Autumn Festival. The second week is spent in Tours, France where they go cycling and visit the famous châteaus before returning to Cordonia just in time for the Last Apple Ball.

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Sources

#the royal romance #trr #hana lee #kiara theron #hanaleeappreciationweek #hlaw 2.0 #hlaw day 5 #head canons #had the whole thing written out but putting this post together took much longer than expected #but got it finished nevertheless and by the deadline!#now i am going to pass out for the 3 hours i have left before work

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endlessly-cursed · 2 years

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PSA regarding today!! This day of the HLAW also celebrates friendships and even rivalries that you just can't help but love!! Romance is awesome but friendships and familial bonds are just as valid <3

#psa #hphlaw

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lizzybeth1986 · 15 days

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Reader Fatigue

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: G

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Word Count: 2, 501 words

Summary: Over a year after she has settled in with her wife in Cordonia, why does Hana not feel the same joy when she reads??

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek and @sazanes for HLAW Day 3: Bookworm, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for the theme "Athena: Wisdom".

Three months.

Hana stirs in her bed, frowning drowsily at the abandoned book on her bedside table. The thought is small, fleeting, a tiny grain of doubt that could be swept away in the wind. Yet it persists, in the harsh, too-bright sunlight streaming in from the French windows in her bedroom, reminding her that it's mid-afternoon; the time she typically would use to enjoy a cup of tea and a light read.

Hana allows herself a small smile as the figure next to her groans and inches a little closer to her, her arms still wrapped loosely around her waist. It's usually Kiara who gets up earlier from their afternoon siestas, teasing her over wanting to read "when your eyes aren't even half-open yet, chérie!"

On weekends, Kiara would encourage her to sleep in a little more. She knew Hana would appreciate the opportunity to binge-read cover-to-cover - perhaps re-read if she really liked the material.

It's been three months now since she's been able to complete a chapter, much less a book.

Hana stretches, catlike, before blindly groping for the book she'd left abandoned on the bedside table. The Crown and the Flame. It's an abridged version, one she'd carried from her childhood home and always found herself devouring in less than two hours...yet somehow she hasn't been able to move past Dominic Hunter's account of his first encounter with a young Princess Kenna at a Beltane festival.

Hana wishes she know how - when! - it had come to this.

When she got married to Kiara last year, it was almost as if the floodgates had opened on everything. Whatever Esther had predicted in that patisserie in Paris - maybe you're fated to be a prim, girly girl adventurer who has unknown depths just waiting to be found! - seemed to be on the cusp of becoming a reality.

Back home in Shanghai, almost every morsel of literature Hana managed to devour was a guilty pleasure; she'd hidden books in secret corners, savoured words and worlds unknown underneath the comforting cocoon of a blanket, uttered half-truths to keep the more scandalous material out of her parents' hands, weaved happy endings and bright futures for favourite couples and charactes, long after she had put the books down.

Hana wonders now if half the fun, back then, was in the secrecy. If half the comfort had come from sharing space with Father and Mother, and knowing they would never truly be able to capture the joy she experienced from reading or make it their own. There was a freedom in that - and for Hana, any freedom would be a luxury to be savoured, like a bonbon from a visiting relative, savoured bite by tiny bite just so the pleasure could last a bit longer.

That shift in circumstances when she married Kiara, had been overwhelming. And perhaps the way she had just gone rogue the minute Kiara gifted her her own personal library, was to be expected.

No rules, no restrictions, no restraints on what she could or couldn't read. The cocoon of her blankets gave way to the vast expanse of her library, with its wide welcoming spaces, its winding staircases, its comforting, velvet seats that allowed her to sink into them, whenever she felt like having a reading marathon.

(Which was often).

Hana had spent so much of her childhood looking over her shoulder as she devoured her books, that the idea of just reading whatever the hell she wanted felt overwhelming. But she grabbed it. With both hands. And embraced the prospect. With all her heart. Hours and hours perusing over every possible scrap of reading material she could find - history, mythology, mystery fiction, true crime, even gothic horror (which she didn't expect to wholeheartedly love the way she does now!).

Whenever the two of them got even a sliver of free time, Kiara would come to expect that Hana would suggest sneaking into the library first.

(For a reading session? To ravish each other against the bookshelves, sending an entire pile of French Renaissance literature tumbling to the floor? Both possibilities held equal appeal)

Hana would even give the occasional gossip rag the once-over, though the abysmal editing and the awful typos made her grit her teeth on occasion.

It was glorious. Novels, poetry, essay collections, her favourite mythological retellings. There was nothing Hana wouldn't read; this library was her oyster. Some evenings when Kiara came home later than Hana did, she wouldn't even bother searching anywhere else in their manor - she'd just make a beeline to the library.

That was a year ago.

Wearily, Hana places a bookmark (handmade, laminated, with pressed dried flowers she had selected herself) on the very page she'd opened, letting out a soft sigh. It's almost as if - after the exhilaration of reading whenever and whatever she liked - her brain has decided it's had enough, and has shut down.

In the first two weeks of this strange predicament, Hana had tried to put it down to different things. Overwork, or the aftermath of juggling all her new roles and all the new skills she'd managed to learn. Perhaps her reading has suffered because she doesn't have the time.

But she knows in her heart that that isn't quite true. Hana isn't sure she has been as free in her life as she has been these past few months. Her calendar has been freed up considerably; she's managed to have more romantic dates with Kiara in the past month than they'd had all year. It can't be a lack of time or even general fatigue, because these days she doesn't do much else that taxes the mind.

No - she has the time. She has the resources - thanks to Kiara, far too much of the resources. And there's no question that she has the desire to keep reading. She just can't ever bring herself to finish.

As she places the book, dully, back on the bedside table, Hana feels a slender arm snaking its way around her waist, a chin nestling against her shoulder with a murmur of approval.

"Mon ange," Kiara whispers, her voice rough, grainy, deep, like freshly-ground coffee. She plants a kiss on Hana's shoulder, lacing their fingers together.

Lazily, Hana turns in Kiara's arms and moves her hands so she can lightly finger her curls, marvelling at how soft they feel in her hands. Kiara takes a long, hard look at Hana as her vision clears, probably wondering what she's hiding. Hana wishes her wife wasn't so good at guessing when something doesn't feel right.

She tries hard to school her features into something more neutral - more fitting for someone who just woke up and wasn't ruminating over something she has lost - but Kiara has never been that easy to fool.

"Everything's okay?" Kiara says, "You've been looking a bit...off for the past few weeks."

Hana looks down, pretending to busy herself with the crocheted fringes of the blanket. Could she laugh it off? Claim that her wife is probably overthinking, that she is worrying over nothing?

Because in the grand scheme of things, it is nothing. She's been doing well. She's never been happier than she is now - she has a home, a purpose, a wife she is madly in love with, passions that she's never felt more free to pursue!

She curses herself as she begins to feel that tell-tale burn in her throat. Struggling to read a book shouldn't affect her this much.

She looks up at Kiara, and almost begins to lie. But Hana knows she's not the best of liars, that most times her eyes give her away. Kiara's fingers are already moving towards the corners of her eyes, brushing the teardrops away.

Hana sniffles. "It's silly."

"Humour me," Kiara nudges her gently. "I don't care how stupid it sounds."

Hana sighs, and tells her. Midway through it all, Kiara props up two pillows against the bedstand and gets them to sit up, Hana safely ensconced in her arms. She tells Kiara everything. How much joy she'd had every time she'd picked up a book. How that joy would spring up double fold if it was about something she barely understood. How easy it was, a year ago, to speed-read the first time, then savour re-reads. How - whenever she felt a little bit naughty - she'd read a book backwards, from the last chapter to the first; giggling as she came to the beginning of the book knowing how it would end.

How...of late...she can find no fun, no joy, in turning to the next page - much less the end of a book.

"It's a stupid, stupid thing to worry about," Hana rails on, "I can just imagine my people at Krysanthe looking at me and shaking their heads and thinking 'oh, the Duchess and her first-world-problems'."

Kiara laughs gently, snuggling Hana closer to her. She passes a small handkerchief to her free hand. "That's all of us, with our people. And they're not completely wrong - of course our lives have always been far better and easier than theirs...most times through their labour. But that doesn't mean that you have to ignore things that confuse or distress you, ma moité." Her hand caresses Hana's shoulder in an attempt to give comfort. "And learning that a pastime so beloved no longer gives you the joy you always got from it...is bound to confuse you."

Hana blows her nose into the handkerchief. "I think a part of it is that...I'm beginning to wonder if I was lying to myself about loving reading books, this whole time."

She takes a deep breath, running her hands back and forth over the soft blanket for comfort. "And if I did...what else have I been lying to myself about? What else will I find I don't like, now that my parents can't dictate the way I live my life? Fashion? Poetry? Music??" Hana takes in a deep breath, almost shocked at the things she's revealing because she hardly ever allowed herself to dwell upon any of this before, much less say it out loud. "What if there's nothing that I liked that I can't put down to parental pressure? What if I keep unraveling, and peeling off, everything I thought I was and find that I'm...well...nothing?"

For one moment, Kiara's eyes seem to search her face, frowning deeply. Then her body goes slack, only her hands enfolding her in a tight, comforting hug. She sighs softly against Hana's hair. "Oh, Hana."

For several minutes, Kiara says nothing - just cradles Hana in her arms, rocking her back and forth, her hands moving in a light caress up and down her spine. When she feels Hana go calmer, she moves her hands to her face, cupping her cheeks.

"What you're facing right now...that's something almost every book lover will have gone through, sometime or other. Especially if their passion was something they had to keep a secret, and they suddenly find that they're no longer bound by any rules or restrictions."

Hana raises her eyes to Kiara's face. "Even you?"

Kiara laughs. "I'm not exactly as passionate about reading as you are, but I've seen that fatigue in Baba often. And I've faced that often with my translation work too. It's what happens when you haven't learnt yet how to regulate your passions. You do too much, you overtax your mind. And maybe this phase...maybe it's your brain and your body screaming for you to find a little bit of balance, darling."

It's now Hana's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

Kiara's eyes dart upwards, in that way it does whenever she is pondering deeply over the best way to convey a thought. And then she suddenly smiles, almost as if she's found the perfect way to get it across. "You do love chocolate, don't you?"

Hana takes a long, hard look at Kiara's face, then bursts into delighted laughter. "Well, it's impossible to argue about or deny that!"

"What if you gave yourself unlimited access to it...no restrictions, no holds barred, allowing yourself to have as much of it as you've wanted all the time? Would it always taste the same?"

Gazing into her wife's face, Hana marvels at how perfect this analogy is. How fitting. "Of course not. I'd maybe even grow a little sick of it at some point!"

"Does that mean you'd been lying to yourself about loving it this whole time?"

Hana throws back her head and laughs, a full-throated joyful sound this time. "You could even say I'd probably get back to remembering how wonderful it tasted if I spent a little time away from it."

Grinning, Kiara bumps her forehead playfully into Hana's. "Only a bookworm would understand a metaphor that quickly. I wasn't even halfway through explaining that."

Hana slips her hands into Kiara's curls again, just the way she knows her wife likes it. She lets out a watery giggle. "That's very nice to hear."

Kiara exhales and shakes her head. "So much has changed for you, Hana. And it isn't your fault that you found freedom in a thing you loved and pushed yourself into it so much. It's natural for someone who was expected to live her entire life on someone else's terms." She holds one of Hana's hands tight within her own. "When we got married, you approached your reading the way a child would approach a shop full of bonbons for the very first time. Now you're learning the more adult way of doing it - enjoy it... but never too much all at once."

Smiling, her eyes a tiny bit watery, Hana gently cups her wife's chin. "So wise, for one so young," she teases gently.

Kiara playfully punches her arm, pursing her lips in muffled laughter. "Stop sounding like my Baba and act more like my mrati."

In higher spirits now, Hana gives Kiara a quick kiss, then makes a move to get off the bed. "All this talk of chocolate is making me hungry. What do you say I make us a mug each of my special hot chocolate, now that it's almost teatime?"

Kiara smiles, sighing in relief. These are not the words of a woman who is trying to move away, unsuccessfully, from thoughts that disturb her, or an attempt to change the subject. Just a sign that her intrusive, self-flagellation thoughts are moving in a different direction. A better direction.

She nods, eagerly. "Hayati," she says, giving her wife a saucy grin, "when have I ever said no to your hot chocolate?"

Translations:

Ma moité - French for "my other half"

Hayati - Darija/Arabic for "my life"

Mon ange - French for "my angel"

Baba, Mrati - Moroccan Darija terms for addressing one's father and wife, respectively

A/N: Post the pandemic I've been struggling a lot with my reading, and had a lot of the same questions my Hana had running in my head. I guess this fic was an attempt to make sense of that, but using Hana's post-marriage context as a springboard.

#hana lee #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #HLAW 2024 #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW Day 3: Bookworm #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic #hana lee x kiara theron #series: petals and thornes

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masked-alien-lesbian · 1 month

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HLAW Day 3: AU

Build-A-Bear Date

Pairing: Hana Lee x Raelyn (nonbinary OC)

AU Summary: A boarding school student Hana Lee x public school child of the staff Raelyn. A rich girl Hana x poor kid Raelyn story. Being from a rich family, Hana isn't really suppose to become friends with a "staffie" a kid of a staff member. All staff members and their families can live on campus but the kids have to attend a local public school and is discouraged to interact with the boarding school students. Will that stop a friendship from forming between Hana and Raelyn? Or will something else form between the 2 teenagers?

Hana stops at the sight of the brightly colored yellow and red store, the entrance flanked by plastic teddy bears.

"Uh, Rae? Are you sure this is right? I think this store is only for children." Hana asks nervously, Raelyn grins excitedly.

"Nah, Build-A-Bear is for all ages. No one is too old for a stuffed friend. Do you trust me?" Raelyn asks holding a hand out to Hana prompting a memory of the first day they met.

"Hah, what an embarrassment! The social climber actually thinks she can sit with us?" A beautiful but snobby blonde says snidely, causing her lackeys to giggle mean laughs. Tears welled up in Hana's eyes and she crys out when a smirking redhead knocks her textbooks out of her hands, causing her papers to scatter all over the floor.

Mercifully the bullies walked off as Hana tearfully bends down to pick up her papers. Suddenly ripped jeans and scuffed up converses appeared next to her and the owner of the outfit, that was in violation of the school's dress code, bends down to join Hana and help her gather her papers.

"Don't pay them girls any mind, their parents obviously don't love them so they take it out on you. I'm Raelyn." Hana gape at the kind eyes of her helper that's handing her papers back to her, smiling warmly.

"I-I'm Hana. T-thank you." Hana shyly says. Raelyn seems to light up even more and they offer their hand to Hana who takes it.

Ever since then Hana's life has never been the same.

Hana smiles and takes Raelyn's hand, "of course I trust you." Raelyn grins and leads Hana into the brightly colored whimsical store.

"I remember you said your parents wouldn't let you have a toy growing up, now is your chance to make yourself a friend!" Raelyn fans out their hand towards the wall of stuff animal options.

"Aren't you my friend?" Hana asks playfully.

"Of course! But this friend is allowed in your dorms at night. This one you can hug and squeeze when I'm not around."

Hana blushes and look away at the wall, her eyes sweeping across all the options.

"I'm not sure where to start."

"It's okay! Take your time. Pick the one that speaks the loudest to you, the one that grabs your attention the most." Raelyn says.

Looking across the options, Hana's eyes keep coming back to a frog.

"Maybe that one?" Hana asks pointing to the frog on the wall. Raelyn smiles and pulls an unstuffed frog plushie out of the bin.

"This one look cute enough for you?" Raelyn asks waving the froggie's face towards Hana. Hana bites her lip at how cute Raelyn looks peering back at her and nods before her brow furrows.

"Yes but...it's a little...limp?" Hana says unsure, Raelyn grins.

"Right this minute yeah, but now we stuff him or her or them." Raelyn says, leading Hana to a machine with a worker standing there smiling.

"Ready?" The worker asks and at Raelyn nod, takes the frog, fixes the hole in the back of the frog to a pipe sticking out of the strange machine, and with a press of a pedal begins to fill the frog up with stuffing. Suddenly the worker stops.

"Now if you one of you could pick a heart out and give it a kiss, I can finish stuffing your friend."

Raelyn points at a basket of little fabric hearts attached to the side of the machine and Hana reaches in and grabs one. Hana kisses the heart and hands it to Raelyn. Raelyn kisses the heart on the same side of Hana's kiss,looking straight into her eyes. Hana's gasp is lost in the sound of the worker finishing the stuffing process.

Soon the frog is stuffed and sewn up and in Hana's arms. Raelyn leads Hana to the wall and racks of little clothes, hats and shoes.

"Oh wow! We can dress him up?" Hana asks excitedly. Raelyn nods.

"You bet! Whatever outfit you want."

Eventually the two decide on cute little overalls and after printing off his birth certificate, they head to the cash register.

"Wait, you don't want to make one for yourself?" Hana asks.

"Nah, my other stuffed buddies would get jealous." Leaving out that they couldn't afford to buy Hana's and a second one, but Raelyn didn't mind. They were just happy to be able to give Hana this experience.

Later as they were walking through the mall, Hana sighs heavily.

"My parents won't let me keep him though." Hana says sadly.

"Then he can stay with me when you go home on break."

"Really? You don't mind?" Hana asks hopefully.

"Of course not! Besides he's kinda my son too, right?" Raelyn says a blush darkening their cheeks, Hana blushes too and nods, nervously giggling, before shyly grasping one of Raelyn's hands. Raelyn twines their fingers together and both teenagers' hearts fluttered in their chest.

Hours later after eating supper at a food truck, another first for Hana, Raelyn takes Hana back to her dorms. They're lightly swinging their joined hands when they come to a stop at the side of Hana's dorms. Neither are in a rush to let go though.

"I had fun today, Raelyn."

"Really? You're not just being nice are you?" Raelyn asks bashful. Hana giggles.

"Of course not! I really had fun today! I always have fun when I'm with you. You're always showing me new things but you never make fun of me or think less of me because I'm inexperienced at them." Hana says.

"I'm glad you had a good day. Next time we'll go to the arcade!" Hana giggles.

"I'm sure it'll be fun too, whatever that is." The two stand there smiling at each other for a moment before Raelyn breaks the silence.

"Hana?" Their voice cracks in nervousness. "Uh, can I...maybe kiss you?" Hana's lips part in surprise but she eagerly nods. Raelyn slowly leans toward Hana, giving her time to change her mind but Hana tilts her head and meets Raelyn's lips with her own.

They're both still for a moment, unsure and inexperienced but slowly they begin to shift. Noses bump but then they find their rhythm and the kiss is sweet and perfect. Perfect for a first kiss. They pull back, matching blushing cheeks and excited smiles.

"I'll uh let you go before you're late for curfew, but that was amazing." Raelyn says looking at Hana hopefully. Hana nods her eyes shining like stars.

"Yes! That was...that was everything." Hana says breathlessly. Hana walks to the door of the building and looks back at Raelyn.

"Sweet dreams Rae." Hana says warmly to the still blushing teen.

"Good night Hana."

Hana walks into her room and pulls out Jaime the frog. She looks at him for a second before squealing giddy and hugging him tight. Not knowing that across the campus, Raelyn was just as giddy dancing a little happy jig around a light pole on their back to their own room.

@hanaleeappreciationweek

@sazanes

@lizzybeth1986

#choices #pixelberry #playchoices #Finally wrote this!#This has been floating in my head for #At least a year now #hlaw 2024 #hlaw #Hlaw day 3 #Hlaw day 3: AU #Hana lee #Trr #The royal romance #First love #Puppy love #Love between social class #Boarding school x public school romance #Rich Hana x poor kid romance

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sazanes · 11 months

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Day 3 - Music/AU

"And I promised myself that I'd never play for anyone but myself again."

@hanaleeappreciationweek @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

#hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW #hana lee #the royal romance #playchoices #myart

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hanaleeappreciationweek · 11 months

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Tomorrow is Day 3 of our appreciation week, and this one is particularly exciting because it's falling on June 21st, World Music Day!!!

Again, we have two themes for this day - Music and AU!

Anyone who knows Hana, knows how much she loves and needs music, and her piano scene in Book 1 remains her most prolific and memorable scene!! You can interpret this theme any way you like - exploring Hana with instruments, Hana performing, maybe even what Hana loves to listen to the most.

Our second theme is AU, and the sky is the limit!! Think of her in an alternate setting, reimagine her life...maybe even feature her in a crossover! Anything goes.

Any and all content is welcome - as long as Hana is the focus of the piece and the depiction of her is positive. We accept any sort of content - fanfic, fanart, edits, moodboards, interactive media, headcanons, screenshots, playlists, meta, headcanons... even screenshots of your favourite scenes! We also accept older pieces (in our Throwback theme) and WIPs. In case you need to look up more themes, here is the main post!

You don't necessarily need to have your piece ready for a theme on the specific day itself - you can always send it later, as long as you tag the post with the day it was meant for (#HLAW Day 1, #HLAW Day 2). We will also be keeping a buffer week in case you couldn't finish your piece during the week.

Be sure to do the following when you make your posts:

1. Use the #hanaleeappreciationweek and #HLAW tags in your posts

2. Tag @hanaleeappreciationweek, and hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes in your blogs

FAN CONTENT BLOGS have always helped us immensely with our events, and they hold a number of fun and exciting events themselves too! Here are a couple you could try out if you want:

@choicesficwriterscreations - Primarily fanfic. Check out their roster of events here!

@choicesmonthlychallenge and @choicesjunechallenge - Any and all content welcome! Check out their prompts for June.

@choicespride - Any and all content welcome! Here is their awesome prompt list for Pride Month.

@choicesflashfics - Primarily fics under a 2500 word limit. Here are this week's prompts.

@choicesprompts - Currently no events running, but they recently finished a round robin and may arrange for a new one soon.

@drake-walker-appreciation and @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation - These blogs invite content all year round on their respective characters.

Happy Hana Lee Appreciation Week, everyone!!

#hana lee #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW Day 3: Music #HLAW Day 3: AU

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lizzybeth1986 · 2 years

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Hindsight is 20/20

Book: The Royal Romance (with references to Desire and Decorum)

Characters: Hana Lee & Peter Foredale (OC) (platonic), Hana Lee x Kiara Theron. References to Annabelle x MC from D&D.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 5000+ words

Summary: Hana and Kiara travel to England...after recieving a letter from Hana's former fiancè. Hana explores her journey as a bi woman in a walk down memory lane.

A/N1: This takes place three years after the events of TRR3. Hana and Kiara are married and have an 8-month old child at this point. Peter Foredale in this universe is both the "Lord Peter" Hana mentioned in TRR1 (who was engaged to her then broke the match) and the current head of Countess Florence Foredale's (my D&D MC) estate, Edgewater. Faceclaims here.

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and @choicespride for National Coming Out Day (Thursday).

"Ready, darling?"

Hana nods mutely. She is, after all, ready in all the ways Mother wanted her to be. Face serene, back straight, gown resplendent.

You look like a vision, the dressmaker gushed a while ago when she saw the results of her handiwork, I cannot wait to see the look on Viscount Foredale's face when he sees you!

Inside the satin gloves, her hands begin to tremble.

Viscount Peter Foredale. Gentleman. Up-and-coming barrister. A regular on the magazine spreads. The most eligible bachelor in all of England. Most of all...a wonderful, kind friend.

And after tonight...her future husband.

Her stomach tightens in a sick lurch.

"Doing okay?" Kiara asks her wife, running a thumb gently over their daughter's left cheek. Her other hand settles at the small of Hana's back, tracing soothing circles. The child shifts her attention from the pearl button she's been chewing, to coo at Mama Kiki's touch.

"Yeah... she's fine," Hana replies, her voice grainy with fatigue. "Put her in any sort of moving vehicle, and she's the world's happiest baby."

Kiara releases a laugh from pursed lips. There is nothing their 8-month-old loves more than being carried around; if you try to sit down, even for a minute, she will bash her hands against your chest and moan for you to get up and move around again.

Her eyes, however, never leave Hana's face - not the downturned lips, not the concealer-masked dark shadows under her eyes.

"I wasn't talking about Chaima," she says quietly.

Hana closes her eyes. It's easy enough to dissemble her nervousness when Chaima is in her arms, but not when Kiara is pinning her with that piercing, knowing gaze. That gaze has always been Hana's undoing.

"Look at you, asking me all the hard questions at 11 in the morning."

Kiara sighs, and fiddles with Chaima's curls. "Your arms must be aching, ma moitié. Let me have her just a bit. Rest now; we'll be reaching Edgewater in half an hour."

Hana sighs and nods. She doesn't want to let go of Chaima yet - it would be so much easier, pushing every other thought aside when this lovely golden child is in her arms...and she suspects that's part of the reason Kiara wants to take over. Don't put off things just because you think you can't handle them perfectly, habibti.

Kiara tucks Chaima's head gently on her shoulder, crooning an old lullaby in Darija. Nīnī yā moūmoū...Hattā tjī ‘andou moū...Sleep my baby...until your Mommy arrives...

Chaima thumps her little hands against Mama Kiki's breasts in approval. Sighing, Hana takes out the letter that brought her here.

Dear Hana,

I hope you, your wife and your little one are well. It's springtime here at Edgewater, we have plenty visitors in the afternoons, touring the gardens and the lake. Mabel has been renovating the house again - she's been insisting I leave the Regency-style furniture in the Regency era and go for something more contemporary (I'm right!).

Little Alphonsa thanks you for her copy of "A Smart Cookie". I'm sure she'll love the message in a few years...but for now all she can see are the cupcakes, the croissants and the macarons. I'm quite proud of the fact; in this one area she takes after her father.

Despite her nervousness, Hana cannot resist a small smile. It's been good to hear from Peter again, truly. He has always been a serious man, whose humour slips through in the most unexpected moments, and it shows in his letters. And from his wife's rare interjections in his letter, she can tell Mabel is the more open, outgoing one.

It had all begun a year ago. They hadn't spoken at all in the years since their engagement had fallen apart, first out of bitterness and then out of shame. Somewhere in those early days, he'd resented her for those dreams left unfulfilled, and somewhere she half-hated him for leaving her to deal with aftermath, alone.

But when she'd heard the news of Earl William Foredale's death from her father, it felt odd not to give him a call. They'd known each other long enough for Hana to understand how hard Peter would have been hit - this man he'd loved and worshipped and wanted to follow on the footsteps of - and whether or not her presence was welcome she knew she needed to at least try.

You reached out after years of silence and offered only compassion, he wrote to her months later, For that, I can never thank you enough.

She looks to the final lines in the letter. Just to see if there's something she's missing, something hidden between the lines. Perhaps, an courtesy-invitation to an old friend he would much rather not see again.

You mentioned in your last letter that you'd be in London two months from now. I would like to extend an informal invitation to visit the Edgewater estate, and our family, when you are here. It would be nice to catch up.

His letters to her have been nothing but sweet. Warm. Tentative in their attempts to speak about anything but that which caused them to part. And for that, she is grateful.

Still. That prickle of fear remains.

The foyer of the mansion is elegant, imposing. From the parlour nearby she can faintly hear the sounds of an excited child attempting to converse with Chaima, occasionally asking Kiara if she can touch her hand. My baby, my cupcake, we'll give you lots and LOTS of milk and carrot smash!

(I think you mean mash, Kiara replies, sounding amused and more than a little charmed by the girl already)

The Persian rug is soft beneath Hana's feet, and the oak panels shine in the patch of sunlight streaming in through the windows. But that is not what catches her attention.

A portrait on the side, of a young woman in an ocean-blue gown that bears the insignia of a unicorn and an eagle, in gold and silver. An elegant shawl around her shoulders. In her face is the pride of a woman who seems to have fought for her place here, and won. Next to her, a calm, brown-haired man, hands kept behind him. Straightening his back, trying to stand tall, trying to match the stature of the lady he just married...but happy to be there.

"That's Florence Foredale," a rich, deep voice speaks from behind, "Countess of Edgewater. 1817 to 1867." The woman who approaches her walks with grace and confidence, hips swaying slightly as she walks. On her wine-coloured lips, a small smile. "Good afternoon, Your Grace."

Hana laughs, relieved that Peter's wife seems every bit as happy to see her as she sounds in his letters. "I've heard about her. She's quite famous in Cordonia...especially in my wife's province." She gives the other woman a teasing grin. "And we're not in Cordonia anymore, Your Excellency."

"Mabel," she interjects. "Not very many people call me by my name nowadays, and I rather miss the sound of it."

Hana nods, smiling. "Mabel it is," she says.

"Hana," Mabel responds, her eyes brown and speculative, but softening when their gazes meet. "Peter's in the study. He said he'll be joining us in a couple of minutes."

Hana's spine clenches in a mixture of anticipation and dread. If Mabel notices an involuntary twitch from her guest, she chooses not to tell.

Hana closes her eyes. Lifts her chin. Tries not to sweat under the harsh camera lights. Involuntarily tightens her fist until the photographer tells her she looks a little too tense.

She can feel Peter's hands, holding her by the waist like she is glass and he's afraid he could break her. She can feel his breath near her ear, slow and measured. She can almost hear him swallow his nervousness in his throat, and wonders if he is just as terrified as she is.

She waits for the feel of his lips on hers. The one she's read about in books, secretly watched in her cousins' favourite films. The one that's supposed to release a million butterflies in your stomach, the one that softly parts your lips like they're made of silk, smooth and sensuous. Already she can feel him growing closer...closer...

"OWWW!!!"

Peter finds her half an hour later in the kitchen, calming herself down with a few small squares of chocolate. Guiltily, she notes the still-blood-red bruising on his bottom lip. She runs her fingers over the delicate filigree earring they chose for the occasion, still unsure why his frown is one of worry, not disgust.

"Are you alright?"

She sniffles, almost hating him for being so kind. "I should be asking you that."

Surprisingly, he offers her a lopsided smile, making his swollen lip even more prominent than before.

"Well, see. At least I landed somewhere in the vicinity of your face this time," Peter says, chuckling, "Give me a little more practice. I promise it will be your cheek next."

Fresh tears spring in Hana's eyes - this time tears of laughter.

"How's this, Auntie Hana!" little Alphonsa chirps, enthusiastically swinging a rattle to Chaima's face, "Am I doing it right? Does Chaima like it? Do you? Do youuuuuu?"

The last two sentences are addressed to the baby bundled in Hana's lap, applesauce running down her mouth. Chaima looks away from her food to gift her slightly older companion a gummy, two-toothed smile. Shaking the rattle is typically the job of whichever mother has her hands free, but Peter's little daughter insisted on keeping her tiny guest happy and submerged in toys for the two days that they were here.

"Yes, Alphie," Kiara blows her a flying kiss, "you're a natural!"

Hana gives Alphonsa an affectionate pinch on the cheek with her free hand. "Chaima lights up every time she sees you, darling, and so do we."

Right next to Hana, Peter grins. It's the first genuine smile she has seen from him since they started talking, and Hana is struck by how alike he and his daughter look right now.

"Alphonsa loves babies," he explains, "or any child, really, they just have to be younger than her. It sets her big-sister instincts abuzz."

Hana sighs, shaking her head and remembering her own days as the only child. Her chandelier earrings swing around her neck as she laughs.

It fascinates her, really, how at ease they are with each other when they're talking about their children. Ever since she came here, their conversations have been awkward, stilted, punctuated with pregnant pauses that harbour all the words they're too afraid to say to each other. They've been trying so hard to be normal around each other, Hana realizes, and failing.

But as parents, they've never been better friends.

"Wait a minute," Peter's voice sounds a little bemused, suddenly, "is that -"

It is only when Hana follows his line of sight that she realizes exactly which earrings she's worn for this visit.

In that moment, she wants to dig a hole beneath the parlour floor and bury herself there.

"Yes," she says, sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

Peter raises his eyebrows, then turns to look at Kiara and Mabel. As they both watch their wives talk animatedly, lost in their own conversation together, Peter suddenly turns back to Hana with a mischievous grin.

"Don't be," he says, "I'm just grateful we both managed to get better kissing practice. Less bloodshed that way."

Hana stares at him, then breaks into peals of silent giggles. It isn't even that funny...not to anyone else anyway...but the dry tone and the memories make it hard for her to stop laughing.

God. She isn't sure what else may happen to cast a shadow on this golden time, this lovely reunion...but if there is one thing Hana has missed up her old friend...it's this.

It is on their second day at Edgewater, that Countess Mabel requests Hana accompany her for a short walk.

Edgewater Lake is a tranquil, limpid little paradise, tucked away behind the estate's beautiful gardens and sprawling grounds. The aroma of bay willow and birch trees is alluring and soothing all at once, and even the ducks seem to float languidly over the water.

Mabel smiles in satisfaction at the sponge cakes in her box, kept specially for the ducks. She offers some to Hana, and together they throw the crumbs in the lake, watching in rapt attention as the ducks practically spring into life, squabbling over who gets which piece.

"I don't think I've ever felt more at peace anywhere in this estate than here," Mabel says. "I found this place quite by accident on my first week here, when I was too intimidated with the rest of the house and the estate. It's been my safe space ever since."

"It's a beautiful place," Hana smiles, remembering Sôse - the lake near the Cordonian Royal Palace. Its clear waters, its free-spirited birds, that distinctive smell of yellow crocus flowers that now reminds her of home. Where she was once told she would become a Duchess. Where Kiara had proposed to her, seven months later.

"Many tales speak of Countess Florence having picnics here."

"With her husband?" Hana says with an arched eyebrow, knowing full well the true answer.

"No. Her...companion. Miss Annabelle Parsons of Hazelvale."

"Parsons? As in the artist who painted Woman's Waltz and Rose Gold Reminiscence?"

"Yes," Mabel says, a faint smile on her lips, "I'm certain you've heard all the stories."

"Not until recently," Hana whispered, remembering just how ignorant she felt, those first few months after she realized she loved women more often than she loved men. How much there was for her to learn. She remembered sitting up some nights after she came out in public, wondering just what to call herself. Am I lesbian? Am I bisexual? Why are most of the people I get attracted to, women? And how can I say I'm lesbian if I've still found myself gravitating towards at least one or two men?

It took Kiara to convince her that she needed to stop overthinking, that changing her mind about who she was didn't mean she was lying to herself. To feel good about learning at her own pace. When she first heard about Florence Foredale, Hana hadn't even known what a lavender marriage was. "I wasn't really out to anyone until I started living in Cordonia."

Mabel's smile grows wider. "Me too. I'm bisexual."

Hana sucks in a breath. "Really?"

"Yes."

"When did you realize?"

Mabel's smile is swift and regretful. "I had an inkling in my early twenties...but I was deep in denial until at least two years ago."

Hana nods, placing a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "That sounds a lot like my journey. I don't think I could even articulate who I thought I was before I left Shanghai."

"Before Peter and I met, I was a young girl brought up in a very strict Goan Catholic family," she says, "You never even uttered the words gay or bisexual around our house." She sighs, heavily, seeming to remember her first year at Edgewater. "I was so scared. The timing was all so wrong. What was I going to do, now that I knew? What was I going to tell Peter?"

Hana winces. She had the same fears the night of their engagement...only now she can give those questions a name. The memory of his face is blinding in its clarity: contorted in pain, his mouth uttering questions she wasn't sure she would ever have the answers for...Is this what you want? Am I what you want??

The way the scales fell from his eyes as she fought to stop her tears.

And then he had left. Left that secluded hallway, left her house, left China. News of the broken match came from her parents.

She had become "damaged goods" overnight. Without a single hair on her head being touched.

Silently, Mabel reaches out and takes Hana's hand, squeezing it in understanding and an attempt to comfort. Hana presses her eyes closed. She doesn't want this woman's pity. Not after this long, when it's too little too late.

Hana is afraid of the answer. But she still has to ask.

"How did Peter react?"

"Afraid."

If her eyes weren't closed already, she would have done so right now, cursing herself for coming here. All this time...and she'd really convinced herself he'd changed...but if he was treating his lawfully-wedded wife this way -

"Not of me," Mabel says softly, her hand moving to touch Hana's arm now, "Of himself. He never quite forgave himself for what you had to go through after he left."

Hana sucks in a horrified breath. "He knew?"

Even before she did?? And he never once tried to talk to her about it?

"Not right away. Not that you weren't straight." Mabel says, nervously fingering a sapphire bracelet on her wrist. "It took him years to make sense of it. When the announcement of your marriage to Kiara came out...and then that magazine spread you'd made on Trend for Pride in Cordonia...several things began falling into place."

"Before or after you came out to him?"

"After," Mabel whispers, "I won't pretend it was perfect. I won't say he understood everything all at once . But he did try...and he still keeps trying."

Hana lets out a sigh of relief. It feels good, knowing that the phantom she had built in her head of him isn't entirely accurate.

"More than once when he's spoken about you," Mabel begins again, slowly, "he's told me that he thinks neither of you had a clue you loved women back then. He said you didn't seem to have enough space to ask questions about who you were or what you wanted."

"He's right," Hana says, staring unseeingly at the ripples on the lake. "When I fell in love for the first time, in Cordonia, it was hell. I had no idea what I was feeling, I couldn't get over the fact that it was a woman...and she was lost to me before I could even hope to win her."

Mabel smiles. "...and then you met Kiara."

Hana chuckles, a glow trickling down and filling every inch of her being...as it always does when she remembers their first days after they confessed their love to each other. "And then I met Kiara."

The two women walk further, looking out towards the lake rather than at each other. Hana gropes around in her mind desparately for a change in subject.

"I feel like I've seen this place before, even though this is my first time personally visiting Edgewater."

"It's possible," Mabel concedes. "Several films have been shot here. I think my favourite one so far has been that one with Cassandra Leigh in it... what's its name...?"

"A Timeless Heart," Hana replies, wonderingly. Even as she answers she finds herself awash with memories. Memories she'd kept locked away since Peter had left...yet something about this particular one demands she revisit it today.

They're at the home theatre Father and Mother had installed, just before Peter's parents agreed to their match. Peter tries - not too subtly - to place his arm around her. Hana obediently folds her hands on her lap, and hopes he doesn't realize they built this room specifically for him.

"Did you know," he inches himself a little closer to her, whispering, "this scene was shot a few years ago at a lake close to our house."

Hana does not answer. Her eyes are glued to the screen, glued to the woman with dark hair and wine-red lips, the camera almost caressing her face. The hero, who Hana is suddenly grateful she cannot see, takes a freshly-bloomed rose from his pocket, gently brushing her cheek with it. She gifts him a slow smile in invitation. Yes.

He brings the rose to his lips, and Hana fully expects him to return it to his pocket, but he does not. Instead he brings it back to Cassandra Leigh's face again.

The petals caress Cassandra's cheek like velvet on silk, moving slowly, sensuously, down the line of her jaw. The length of her hair. Her rosebud mouth. It moves across the expanse of her face, and Cassandra responds to the flower as she would the touch of a lover.

As the flower moves languidly over her silken skin...and Cassandra's expression shifts between confusion and desire and pure bliss, Hana feels a softening deep within her. It's a sensation she has never quite felt before. It moves, again, again, almost as if the petals are kissing her - not the man holding them.

It's almost as if he doesn't exist. It's almost as if no one exists, just her. And this woman.

When the projector breaks down immediately after, and Peter gets up - grumbling about missing the best part of the film - she suddenly stares at her fiancé-to-be like she can barely recognize him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" It's Mabel. Hana shifts uneasily at her piercing gaze.

"I was just thinking..." Hana murmurs, still bemused by the revelation, "sometimes all the signs can be right in front of you - staring you in the face - and you won't even realize that that weird feeling at the pit of your stomach was desire."

Mabel nods slowly, her smile one of recognition.

"Yeah...I've had a couple of crushes I didn't even realize were crushes until later."

"It's funny," Hana replies with a small laugh, "this entire time I've been thinking my love for women suddenly burst into life when I came to Cordonia and met Esther...but it's been there all along. It just took me a while to see it. To give it a name."

"Well...you know what they always say," Mabel lays a soft hand on Hana's arm, "Hindsight is 20/20."

"And this...this is Earl Vincent the First," Peter says, pointing to the portrait of a man in 15th century finery on the wall of his study. "Quite the character. He's said to have spied on both sides during the Wars of the Roses."

Hana smiles. "I know of at least one Duchess back home who would love to hear that story."

It's their last day in Edgewater, and Peter has summoned her to the study. Hana wills away the still-slight prickle of fear that he will rake up the past. They've spoken often enough; the topic could have easily come up if he so chose.

"and this...this is my most famous ancestor - appointed Championess of the Realm by Queen Charlotte herself - Countess -"

"- Florence," Hana whispers. The young woman in the portrait is still dressed in her house colours of blue and gold, but holds a white rose to her bosom. Her gaze seems to focus on the artist, brimming with emotions she cannot yet express. Hana is confident that if she strained her eyes long enough, she would find Parsons scribbled at the bottom-right corner of the painting.

"Yes," he says, a faint smile on his lips, "I hear that back in Castelserraillan they've made a film on her life."

"She's quite popular there."

"For good reason, I imagine," Peter says, "Most of what used to be considered 'rumour' about her is...in effect...true."

Hana's eyes widen. The stories of Countess Florence Foredale marrying Mr Chambers but pledging her vows to Miss Parsons...that she gleefully officiated her "husband's" own union to another man on their wedding night...they are fairly common knowledge. Common knowledge that you'd never expect the heir to her estate to confirm.

"Among us descendants, no one knows for sure whether her son was part of the Foredale bloodline in the way the ton of those times would have wanted it," Peter stares at the Countess' portrait, hands clasped behind his back, every inch this woman's heir. "But she left behind a legacy. A legacy I am proud of. A legacy I long to live up to."

Remembering her conversation with Mabel at the lake, Hana says, "From what I've heard, you already are."

Peter's answering smile is one of sad knowing. "You've been talking to Mabel."

Flushing, Hana nods. "I have."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "She often gives me more credit than I deserve."

Hana laughs. "I think I'll let her be the judge of that."

She can see Peter's shoulders heave in a deep, deep sigh. He walks away from the hundreds of ancestral portraits, back to his table, running a fingernail across its wooden surface. His eyes are cast downwards, almost as if he can't bring himself to look at her.

Hana freezes, anticipating the difficult conversation ahead.

"Hana," he says, his voice suddenly rough, "I wanted to hate you so badly in the beginning."

Her stomach drops to her feet. "I know."

"I kept telling myself, she could have opened up to me, anytime. I stayed at her home three while weeks; she could have let me know then. I convinced myself that I was a match you carelessly chose to sleepwalk into, that you considered me another chore to get done."

Tears spring in Hana's eyes. "I couldn't understand what was happening to me back then. I still don't."

Peter moves behind the table, running his fingers through the knob of one of the drawers. His own eyes seem clouded, she notes with a pang.

"Mabel told me once...the process to figuring out who you are isn't always going to be linear. You're never going to figure it out all in one go," he finally raises his eyes to hers, "Was it like that for you?"

Hana swallows. "It's still like that for me. There are still parts of this journey that are yet to make sense."

"I could have stayed back. Talked to you. Tried to help somehow, though god knows whether I'd have messed it all up further. I could have tried." Peter's voice is flat, almost deceptively lacking emotion. Only his eyes betray his recrimination of himself. "Instead I ran off. Leaving you to face all the questions."

"You didn't!" Hana's own voice is suddenly hoarse, roused by his self-flagellation into passionate defense. "Don't think I didn't notice, Peter. Before you left, you and your family made use of every contact you could find...to kill most of the gossip surrounding our breakup. Neither I nor my family found out until two years later."

Peter shakes his head in disbelief. "But -"

"You didn't get all of it right. I know that. People still managed to spread the word, and I kept getting raked over the coals for it, even after I married Kiara." Hana takes a deep breath, exhausted from her tirade. "You hated me then, but you were still willing to do that for me. If you really want to know how worthy you are of Florence Foredale's lineage, you can start right there."

Peter sighs. "Let me apologize for not trying to understand, at least."

She lets out a watery laugh. "Apology accepted."

He searches her eyes for affirmation, and nods, opening the drawer he had been running his fingers through mere minutes ago.

"Come here," he mumbles finally, leafing through a sheaf of papers, "I have something I've been wanting to show you. Ever since we started writing each other."

It's sketches of the same woman - in various moods, various poses...the drawings themselves in various stages of completion. These aren't formal portraits, set up over stand and easel, its subjects motionless. No - these are poetry in motion, impatiently etched, capturing their subject in all her vibrancy and fierce spirit. Here she is, head thrown back in (at least in Hana's imagination) loud raucous laughter, the wind in her hair. And here, yet again, holding a little boy up in the air, his tiny hands reaching out to caress her face.

Here is one made by the Countess - herself an accomplished artist - of her wife standing tall and proud, an eagle perched on her right arm, her left hand caressing a unicorn.

Her heart almost stops when she sees the final painting - the artist Parsons herself, arms wound around the other woman's waist, her chin tucked against the Countess' shoulder. Their fingers seem woven together, so that you cannot quite tell which ones belong to whom. The Countess herself looks to their interwoven hands with a mixture of desire, and longing, and pain.

Hana runs a hand over the couple, her touch almost reverent. Her heart twists a little at the strength of their love, the immense injustice of their loss. "No one else has seen these before."

"No one," Peter agrees, "except my wife. We unearthed these just days after Father died. And a week before you made that call." He picks the last drawing up, his eyes brimming with affection. "When you rang us so soon after that, it felt like a sign. Like I had one more chance to make things right."

Hana takes his hand, pressing it between hers. "You and Mabel have done more than that. I'll never forget this visit. You both owe us a trip to Cordonia, now."

Cautiously, tentatively, Peter gives her a hug.

"I'd like you to have this last painting," he says gruffly, passing her the one she'd touched so reverently mere moments ago. "It just feels right, you having this. There's a lot of things my ancestor didn't have...that I'm glad you and my Mabel finally get the space to explore."

"And even then, we had to navigate so much to get there," Hana responds. "All we can do really is pass it forward. Make it easier for the next generation, and the next, and the next."

Peter gifts her a rueful smile. "I'll try my best to do just that, Hana. I promise you."

Little Alphonsa giggles and gives Kiara a drawing of herself and Chaima, as a keepsake. Already Kiara plans to have it framed and put up in her nursery.

Mabel has a gift of her own, too. Just before Hana leaves, she slips a small package into her bag, insisting she only open it when they're closer to the airport.

The car that takes them to the airport weaves through traffic slowly, steadily, in no particular rush. In an hour's time, Chaima is asleep on Kiara's lap, and Kiara herself has dozed off, mumbling gibberish in her dreams.

Quietly, Hana takes out the package, tears open the wrapper. A letter falls out.

H -

Since you like Cassandra Leigh so much, I thought you might like The Warmest Winter. You'll know why when you watch. Thank me later.

Love,

It's a CD cover for a film. Two women, gazing into each other's eyes in reverent devotion, their gazes speaking a million promises that their lips can never tell. Hana presses the CD to her chest and whispers a prayer of gratitude.

A sleeping Kiara shifts her neck ever-so-slightly in Hana's direction, murmuring her name softly. Her hand still lies - soft. protective - over Chaima's stomach.

Hana keeps the CD back in the larger bag she's carrying - the one that holds those precious paintings.

Seems like our plans are set for next date night, wife. She brushes away a strand of hair from Kiara's forehead, kissing it. I just can't wait.

Notes:

Ma moitié - French for "my other half"

Nīnī yā moūmoū - Moroccan lullaby (link here)

A Timeless Heart and The Warmest Winter are both Cassandra Leigh films in the Choices universe.

Inspiration for the Timeless Heart scene in the movie-watching section, came from a rather sensuous (by our 50s Bollywood standards!) Hindi film scene in Mughal-e-Azam, where the hero caresses the heroine with a feather. See:

You can watch the full song here and the scene in question is from 2.10-3.00.

#hana lee #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW Day 3: Pride Parade #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic #kiara theron #desire and decorum #annabelle parsons #hana lee x kiara theron #hana x kiara #annabelle parsons x mc #long post

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