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ughyoongis · 5 years

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In The Midst Of Chaos [ chapter 01 ] a prince!calum fic

A/N: this fic is very near and dear to my heart so please let me know if you like it and tell me what u wanna see or hope happens next! enjoy!

word count: 4.7k

previous chapter

Within a few weeks of working in the castle, Alice learns the boundaries. The do's and don't's of her job. Yes. That is correct, her job in the castle. She now works for the royal family, along with one other new recruit named Luke who's grown to be a friendly aura to hang around during slow shifts.

The head nurse, Penelope, teaches her day to day tasks and shows her the ropes, she explains the rules. Be kind, be courteous, be quick. Don't wander down halls you weren't instructed to walk down, which, at first seemed a bit silly. But the more time spent in the castle, the more her curiosity festered.

Because she never expected a castle to be so deathly quiet throughout the day. She expected loud festivities, bustling workers who rush from place to place, it's supposed to be a constant circle of busy, busy bees.

Instead, she finds herself alone in the halls, rarely seeing someone, getting lost in the maze that is this glorious castle. Extravagant paintings of the reign through the years, statues of the gods and goddesses, more and more vases of flowers. She never quite hears anything behind the closed doors, always taking soft steps to hopefully hear a murmur through the walls. She's starting to wonder if there's anyone even here.

"My dear, would you take this upstairs for me?" Penelope, or Penny, as the other nurses address her, hands a basket of tonics and oils to her, each one capped and labelled, a tag on them to describe what each one has healing qualities of.

"Of course." Alice stops folding her washed towels, taking the wicker basket with a sheepish grin.

"There's a maid's quarters, at the very end of the Western tower, leave it outside the door." Penelope's a kind woman, deep sea foam green eyes that have rings of brown as well, her skin is a shade of honey and caramel, hair in tight black ringlets. She has a warm smile and plum colored lips, she smells of cherry wine and lavender.

"Thank you." Alice spins on her heel and exits, she has yet to make Penelope mad, and today is not the day to see how irritated she can get.

She rushes up to the top floor, reciting the directions of the Western tower in her mind, trailing her way down the velvety carpet, the sun sets out the open windows, curtains flowing from the breeze that washes in every now and then.

The trees outside sway delicately against the autumn chill, the center of the castle is in full view from up here. A square of the castle gardens, those who walk up here can look down into from every side of the upstairs level, all of the windows from each hall look down into the vast, ever so breathtaking gardens of the land they love. Beautiful fountains, extravagant flowers and plants from foreign lands. Penelope said she loves to spend her time in the gardens whenever she has the opportunity.

Luke said he saw the prince in gardens, almost every time he walked by and had the opportunity to look into the vicinity. He had seen him sitting out on the grass, alone, writing in his journal. Always writing. Sometimes, he had a guard next to him, if not close by, keeping watch.

She smiles down at her feet when she thinks of how stupid she must seem, lolling around thinking about the prince writing of all things. Has she gone mad? The prince seems too self-centered, too violent for her liking. She likes men who treat people properly, fairly.

Her shoulder bumps into a rigid column, the post swaying before a vase tips, it's beauty of blue and black paint, intricate gold marking on the rim- shatters itself across the floor. Her hand clasps over her mouth to hide the gasp that threatens to escape from her throat.

She feels her skin crawl.

Oh no.

Her knees buckle and she's scrambling to the floor to try and assess what she had just done. This is an artifact, a one of a kind beautiful masterpiece. She can't afford to fix this. They'll kill her. The guillotine will be her next place to be ushered off to. Her heart is in her throat, all of her fears come crashing down when she glances up and sees a figure lingering at the very end of the hall.

The prince. His icy stare is what causes the chills up her spine, the way he just lurks in the distance, hands clasped behind his back as he watches- just stares- at her floundering in a panicked mess.

Her hands let go of her basket of tonics. The second his feet start to move towards her, she scrambles up onto her trembling legs, curtseying hastily, muttering apology after apology. He can't even hear her, she's too far away, but that doesn't matter. She runs, far from the crime scene she had created.

He watches her leave, studies the broken vase and the basket she had abandoned in her attempt to escape. She's out of his sight and clicking her way down the stairs when he turns around to look at his literary tutor, one of his confidants. Ashton. A boy his age, who's a scholar in his studies, son of the archduke of this regime, born into the money but humble, far too humble for Calum's liking.

"Do you know who she is?" He asks, head whipping back around to stare longingly down the corridor.

Ashton's hazel eyes stare apprehensively.

"She had a nurse's uniform on, but I know not her name." His smile grows as he grins, "She seemed fearful, your highness."

"Perhaps she should be." The prince lifts the basket with his hand, staring at it in confusion before handing it off to the tutor.

"Take this back to the maid's quarters, seems they've been given their weekly healer's basket." He watches the dirty blonde stride away and disappear in this labyrinth of marble floors and porcelain statues.

He watches the breeze whirl through particularly strong, the curtains flutter and he laughs to himself, smugly, so no one can hear. Then strolls down the halls, in no rush, and head's to the nurses chambers.

"You what?" Luke is whisper-yelling at her when she walks back into their shared study space, cobblestone walls with moss in the corners, poorly eroded ceilings, and grimy air. But it's a study, nonetheless. They're in there alone but she's too scared anyone passing by will hear.

"He was right there, he watched me do it." Her face etches into a petrified frown. She can't stop checking behind her, as if he'll be there, hidden. Silently watching her panic in the corner.

"Did he say anything?"

"If he had I missed it, I was so scared I ran."

Her hand falls to the table they're sitting at, Luke's textbooks on anatomy is open and he's supposed to be reading but this seems far more interesting than the study of the nervous system.

"Penelope said he rarely speaks, says he's never said more than a word or two to her."

"That's assuring." Alice shakes her head in disbelief, "I just got this job and now I'm in the gutter."

"It's a likely chance he will not care." Luke tries to say something that may lift her spirits or lighten the mood.

But the door opens with a creak and Penelope stands in the doorframe, her arms across her chest.

"Anything you'd like to tell me?" Penelope's tone is on the softer side, but her eyes plead for the truth.

The prince steps into the doorframe, eyes landing on hers nearly instantly.

Luke visibly shrinks in his seat, lips parted, eyes wide, gaping at the sight of the prince in arms reach. Terrifyingly superior to them, even more so when he speaks, voice firm and coated in bittersweet honey.

"Your name?" He poses the question, ready to hear this girl's name be uttered off of her lips like her sad excuse of an apology he barely heard.

She blinks, wildly, "Alice."

He nods, brushing past Penelope so he can make his way into the room, taking it all in with a disgruntled look, eyebrows strung together as he sees the subpar conditions these two are in.

He glances at the girl once more, notices the way she averts her gaze directly to the ground the second he glances at her. Not an usual response on his behalf, he's grown accustomed to the look of discomfort he receives.

"Your highness, she's very new to our staff. An intelligent girl, she means no harm to the castle."

"I'm aware." He bites back instantly, jaw setting itself into place as he raises his stare up to Alice's eyes, glowering over her fright.

His stature is that of royalty, as should be expected for his title, his shoulders broad, feet firm, dressed in his elegant princely garb. The nation's colors, red and gold, draped around him from head to toe. The glorious crown perched on his head shines amidst the dull, lifeless room they're all in.

He stays stoic, burning his gaze down onto her. Picking at her from start to finish.

Calum's eyes are as sinister as his father's, the deepest ebony color that drowns into a cold, endlessly paralyzing stare. Something phantasmal.

The maori takes a breath, and then gives a firm nod. "I'll discuss the repercussions with your boss." His feet take slow, careful steps back out into the hall, where a murmured conversation takes place.

Her consequence is decided in a mere three minutes.

Penelope enters, Calum stays in the corridor, hoping to witness her reaction.

"We've decided it's best if you clean up your mess-"

"Put the vase back together." Calum interrupts, voice suddenly too loud for the small space. "Piece by piece."

Her face is nothing short of awestruck, a sudden coursing aggravation fuels it's way through her veins and the second she goes to protest he adds on.

"Would you rather buy a new one? They're only sold in the Southern nation, given to us as an offering from the princess herself, hand crafted." He watches her bite her tongue, then continues. "One may say it's priceless."

She ducks her head down, her way of apologizing for nearly acting out. The outburst that tugs and tugs at her heart, waiting to be released but he stands there, overzealously proud of his accomplishment of utterly ticking her off.

"Better pick up those pieces before a maid sweeps them up." He steps off and carries himself away from her to whistle a low tune.

Alice hates him. She completely, pathetically hates the prince.

Two days. It takes two days for Calum to fall back at the door of her study. His first words being:

"My horse threw me off and it seems I've hurt my hip." He wears a stressed frown, a face she's only seen on him, either this or an angered yell. She has rarely seen him otherwise, and if he did make any other expression, it might as well make the daily newspaper.

Alice had been in the middle of sorting out her shelves and cabinets when he entered, whisking him off to her cot so she can examine everything. There's little to no conversation. The sound of birds chirping and the echoed chit chat from the other studies around them.

She's been avoiding the wretched excuse of a punishment they had given her, a bag full of broken vase pieces sits in the bottom drawer of her desk and for now, she's given it no thought whatsoever.

"Did you land on your side?" She asks, earning a nod from the maori, who's far too handsome for her heart's liking. He's in much simpler clothes than his formal attire, instead dressed in black slacks and a white button down. He still looks soaked in wealth and luxury since his crown is tangled into his unruly curls, but not as overwhelming as his usual wardrobe.

"Could you lift up your shirt?" She asks, circling her hand above his hip that he clutches in pain, he nods and pulls the shirt so it comes untucked, a bruise blooming over his side as a couple scratches show from the gravel path he had landed on.

"You must have an angry horse, your highness." She jokes without thinking.

"My horse is perfectly fine." He mutters under his breath while Alice takes the rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball and swipes over the scratches, emitting a hiss from the maori. "Was in a mood, s'all."

Maybe the horse doesn't like you, she wants to say, but bites her tongue.

She sighs after assessing the situation.

"Let me put witch hazel on this, and some ice. Should be gone in a week or so." She grabs what she needs as she says it, applying it all in mere seconds. "Sit still and rest with this on for a bit."

He nods and relaxes against the pillow on the cot, his crown tilts as he does so, and now he looks completely different from the uniform man who rules the nation under his father's wing, causing wars and starting riots in the streets. Now, he looks so disheveled. He's softer, delicate. God, she shouldn't even think of him like this but here she is.

She stands, heels shuffling against the cobblestone as she picks up where she had left off, organizing her station. She's still newly accustomed to this place, and has to bring supplies daily from her home to fill up all of the emptiness in here. She snuck in a few candles that smell like her favorite things- pumpkin, honey, cinnamon. She wanted a little piece of home with her.

Calum's gaze follows her as she moves around her room, his powerful eyes are hard to avoid, constantly drilling into her. She can feel it, he gets under her skin but says nothing of the matter, just observes her actions. Is he judging her? Or is this a normal thing for him to do?

"You look far more different from your usual appearance, your highness." She wears a sheepish grin, picking up a stack of her journals where she draws or studies in them.

"Does it surprise you that I don't walk around in such tight, uncomfortable clothes every waking second of the day?"

And dare Alice say this, but she thinks that was a joke.

Her grin curves up and she shakes her head, pulling a journal out of the stack after putting them away, grabbing a pen as she flips to a blank page and absentmindedly sketches out Calum lying on her cot, his hair a mess, shirt half untucked, crown barely on his head at this point.

She finds herself wondering why people who work here find him rude and claim him as a disrespectful heir of his mother and father. They say he's the lesser sibling, and that he lives in Mali's shadow. But he seems decent to Alice.

"Can't stand those damn clothes," He notices how she's amused. Studies her once more. Then speaks curtly, "Did you put the vase back together?"

And now she's back to being annoyed at the mention of her stupid repercussions. The expensive vase practically burns through the drawer it's stuck in.

"I haven't had the time to, I'm still learning more and more about life here in the castle, your highness." She lies. Because she spends half the day here just talking to Luke and rarely does much. But it seems to convince him, though his eyes lack any amusement he once had swimming within them.

"Is it different from beyond the walls?" He seems so naive, so curious. As if no one's ever told him about how they live outside of here.

Luke's voice rings through her head. Penelope said he rarely speaks, says he's never said more than a word or two to her.

Maybe he never had anyone to ask.

Alice smiles, "To put it simply, my house is the size of this study alone."

He takes a close glance of the space, and furrows his eyebrows when he realizes how small it is.

"Is it just as quiet? What do you do for fun? Where do you go?" He sits up despite the pain in his side, allowing Alice the room to slip beside him. Their knees brush and she apologizes under her breath. His eyes only cross over hers for answers.

He's never been let out into their kingdom, he's never seen what they rule, never saw the alleys the poor peasants are living in. He has no idea of the riots and protests going on. How people are striving to have food on their plates each night. He can't hear the way people speak of him, of his family, how crude some insults can be.

"It's busy most days. My nanny and I head to the marketplace for clothes and such during free time, or the theater."

Her eyes flicker to his, gaining the courage to look him dead in the eyes, now face to face, side to side, she can see every detail in his flawless face. The slight golden specks in his bold eyes. The full redness to his lips. The stray curls that wisp across his forehead, under the divine crown.

"My mother says there's a lovely theater. Won't let me go, though." He mutters, his palms smooth over his slacks. The faint twinge of sadness laced in his features. "I'm not allowed past the castle walls. They say it's too dangerous for me to go out there."

"It's far different from here." She agrees with the queen entirely. Calum shouldn't be so compelled to see the lack of prosperity and wealth in their villages. How few wealthy families exist, how many poor ones do. The ever-growing peasant population is skyrocketing.

"Perhaps I'm sick of the same marble floors. The same meals each day. The same crown upon my head." He takes his prized piece of jewelry off of his head as he speaks. He gives a grimace and scoffs, "Things here grow tiring after years of the same bloody routine."

His gaze is hooded, burning down at the crown in his hands, a look of disgust crosses over his face as he studies the intricate designs molded into it, the jewels on it for even more decor than what's necessary. Alice gnaws on her bottom lip, unsure of what to say to that. He doesn't like it here? He wants to leave? Is she hearing him correctly?

"Sorry if I sound desperate, I never get to talk to anyone here." His lips purse, "Only my parents and tutors."

Her heart sinks, and ironically, she pities the prince, the boy who has everything at the palm of his hand. She hears him suck in a sharp breath and glances over to see him debating on what to say next, lips pursed.

She wants to ask him why he doesn't talk to anyone. But the answer seems so obvious the next second that she finds herself a bit silly for wondering. Everyone is scared of him, they don't treat him like someone who they're allowed to talk to. All the other workers are too focused on doing their jobs perfectly to even begin a conversation with the prince.

She smiles down at her feet that swing on the cot, her hair falls over her face in messy strands.

"If you need help with growing accustomed to anything here, I can show you around- if you'd like?"

His voice goes from casual to apprehensive in mere seconds. Worried that his offer isn't what she wants. He's well aware of people's opinions on him, and thus his natural aura of bitterness results. But Alice is special, she has a different mindset. Sure, she tiptoes around him from time to time but the look of dread has vanished from when he first entered the room. That's a plus, right?

His offer has a smile curling on her delicate lips.

"Right now?"

He glances at the clock on the wall, he has an hour and a half window before his lessons for the day begin.

"No better time than the present." He stands, the pain in his ribs isn't unbearable anymore but it's still present. "There's many places here that even the most knowledgeable of workers who have stayed here for years have yet to find."

"I suppose you hide them from us, hm?" She teases, following him as she blows out her candles and puts her journal away, the half finished drawing of Calum she had begun now abandoned for the time-being.

He gives her a knowing look, practically answering the question within itself.

"I like to keep as much privacy as possible." He explains, opening the door to the hallway as they leave her study. "Everybody's breathing down my neck nowadays, I hardly get alone time anymore."

"My home is the same way." She feels oddly calm while spilling this personal information to him. Does he even care? She can't tell. "Part of the reason I wanted this job so badly is to get away from them throwing their problems onto me."

"Try having your father drop an entire kingdom in your hands, and telling you you'll be ruling it in a few years." He speaks under his breath, since they're passing all the other nurses now. Their eyes linger on the couple brushing by, and send Alice confused stares. Some seem worried for her. Others unbothered. There's a sea of mixed emotions in the crowd and all she can focus on is the way Luke sends her a look of pure fear when he sees the situation she's in. How she's marching alongside a determined, austere Calum.

Once they've entered a barren corridor she continues the conversation.

"You've got me beat with that one, your highness."

"You may call me Calum, if you'd like." He presses his lips together, to stop them from curling into a smile. Her eyes catch the way his meet the ceiling to avoid hers.

"I don't think I'm in the proper position to address you as-"

"I'd like you to call me Calum, Alice." He tenses his shoulders, "I let many of my aquaintances here call me so, as long as they only say it in private. If others hear it, they'll start thinking it's a free-for-all."

"Okay," She breathes out, "Calum."

It sounds bizarre to keep his name at just that, but he gives her the closest thing to a grin when she says his first name. He has his hands clasped behind his back as they walk down an empty corridor, in no rush, and an almost graceful skip to his step.

"Have you been in every room in this castle?" She asks, because there's got to be hundreds to choose from, with doors everywhere in every hall. She has only seen a handful of rooms and she's already overwhelmed.

"Of course," He laughs, "There's very little for me to do here, so I wander a lot."

"I would like to see your favorite rooms, out of the thousands in here." She grins, gesturing to the vast corridor ahead of them, his lips tweak up and fall the second he senses the feeling. They have a few spectators, a bustle of maids that scurry by with shifty glances.

"To the library, then," He leads the way, his dress shoes echo with each step down the hall, her own heels click behind him as they both stay quiet.

"Here." He says. Both hands unclasp so he can grab the door handle of the double-doored entrance. The dark mahogany door creaks as he opens it, who knows how old this room is, because once you're inside it's dimly lit, the curtains are drawn shut and prevents any sunlight from outside from entering, there's a whopping two floors, with a high, endless ceiling. A maze of library books on the bottom floor, whilst every corner of the room has a spiral staircase to lead it's way up to the next floor. Ladders along the sides of the walls to reach high books, she catches a glimpse at desks scattered here and there, for those who want to read in silence.

"This place is amazing." She walks into the center of the room, slowly taking it all in with an astonished look. Her blonde hair falls over her face and she brushes it back to study every shelf and row. The library back in town barely has thirty books and this seems to hold thirty thousand.

"You can take whichever books you'd like." He joins her in the center. "For studies, and whatnot."

"Really?" She feels honored at the opportunity, since not many people in her village can read at such a scholarly level, most knowing the basics, others didn't bother with learning, she is jumping up and down in her figurative seat at the idea of reading something new and exciting.

"Sure." He shrugs, "Not like anyone will exactly notice if a few go missing."

"I love it here." She strolls to the nearest shelf that catches her eye, a little etched in plate along the side that says 'Classic Literature' in scripture, she skims the titles and pulls out Alice's Adventures In Wonderland. Her mother loved reading it to her, she also felt as though she was named after her, it suits her well.

"Do you not have a room like this?" He asks.

She gives a sad, forced smile. "Not quite."

"I. . ." He trails off in his own mind, gathering his thoughts with a furrowed brow. "I could give you some of my favorites, and you can keep them in your village."

Her hands holding the novel clutch it to her chest, a giddy feeling, one she hasn't felt since she was a kid, bubbles up inside of her.

"That would be fantastic," Her eyes lock with his, "Calum."

He's gnawing on his bottom lip to hide his own excitement, too. He gravitates towards one of the desks that's stacked miles high with books. He picks up one on top.

"No one really enjoys the books I like," He holds it out, sheepishly, the title on display.

Frankenstein.

Her eyes light up, remembering the title to that of the same book in her local store. She takes it with a reminiscent look crossing her face.

Her thumb runs over the corner of the binding, the story itself has her heart tugging at the seams. No wonder Calum, the enigma of a prince, enjoys a story so dismal and tragic.

"If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear." She quotes, "It's one of my favorites."

He seems delighted to hear her speak so eloquently, so naturally. As if he didn't just feel the words jab through his chest and twist like a jagged knife. The way she stares at him, like she can see the reason towards why he's picked up the classic many times, has him turning around to avoid the questioning he could sense building.

"It's a great book." He mutters, suddenly feeling his chest grow tight and his skin prickle with goosebumps. He holds back on saying how it's one of the few things that makes him smile every now and then.

"Beware for I am fearless, and-"

"Therefore powerful." He finishes, lips curling up as he fights with the ludicrous emotions swirling around him, fogging up his once focused mind. She's already pulling him in too deep.

"You must relate to this, yeah?" She means it kindly, almost too scared to see how he'll react after the words fall from her lips.

"The people," He mumbles, eyes drifting to the floor, "They don't like me, I can tell."

"You don't know th-"

"But I do." He spits a bit too fast. A seething tone in his voice, "They merely gawk at me when I walk into the room, they flinch when I go to shake their hand, they treat me like I'm some... monster."

"They see you for your wealth and power." She explains, "They're intimidated by it."

He finds himself lingering closer to her, his bottom lip rakes between his teeth as he tries to assess how she can read him like the back of her hand, along with everyone else. Was she only saying that because that's how she is with him, too?

"You may be the smartest girl I've ever met." He whispers in one breath.

She grins, boasting in her pride. "Thank you."

Maybe she likes the prince now, just a little bit.

A/N: talk to me about this chapter in my ask!! what are your thoughts so far?

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