forum Love Knows No Crown nor Throne | oxo | closed

Started November 23, 2022 by @knightinadream group

tune

"You’ve met someone."
"I will honor his legacy, to be a Crown Prince my family would be proud of."
"When you are young, love feels like the most important thing in the whole world."
"What if I just want to be with him?"
"I don’t wanna be anyone’s secret."

Archambault Academy is a prestigious boarding school in Saint Aignan-Grandlieu, France. Many elites from all over Europe and other areas send their children there. One thing that makes Archambault special is the fact that it was attended by members of the royal family including Her Majesty as well as the late Crown Prince Philippe.

A is now the crown prince and heir to the French throne. After the loss of his older brother, Philippe, A was caught fighting at party. His mother, the queen of France, enrolls A into the academy as a way to redeem himself and to learn responsibility as the new soon-to-be king. The crown is not something that he is completely interested in. A wants to have freedom and to be able to explore his true self without worrying about royal obligations, but he finds himself tied to it all.

Upon his arrival, A meets B. B is also a student at Archambault Academy, yet unlike his peers, he is a non-resident student who is there on scholarship. Being a kind smart student, B is chosen by the headmaster to show A around the whole academy.

To A, there is just something about B that makes him want to stop and stare for a bit. To B, there is more to A than just being a crown prince, but why does he think this? This is where our story begins, but where will it go from here?

I got some inspiration from watching Young Royals. You don't need to know the show for this, but I do recommend watching it. Obviously this is different since it's taking place in modern-day France and there's a monarchy. Just wanted some forbidden love/secret romance with boarding school/dark academia vibes.

Rules

• andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules
• TW: There will be mentions of mental illness, homophobia, and drugs/alcohol/smoking.
• Sexy times will be omitted and skipped over.
• At least one detailed paragraph per response.
• This is your rp too. If you have any questions, concerns, or ideas, please do let me know!
• I'll post a template once someone joins. If we haven't rp before, I may ask for a sample.

I do like the antsy gays

Me too! You wanna join?

Count me in

Swag. Do you wanna be A or B? I'm cool with being either or so, it doesn't really matter to me.

Ummmm I don't have much of a preference

Okie dokie! I'll be B if that's cool.

Yeah that's fine. Do u want to do a template first or jump in

I have a template that we can use.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Apperance:
Personality:
Background:
Other:

Do you want it to be detailed or a brief overview? Cause sometimes I get ahead of myself and write like super long charater forms.

No cause sometimes I do that too. It's all good. You can have it be detailed.

Name: Henri Auguste
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Apperance: Henri is not the tallest nor the shortest of the bunch. He stands at about 5'10, 5'11 on a good day. He has a lean, athletic body. Whole he may appear lanky, he is strong and shouldn't be underestimated. His hair almost black hair falls in natural waves past his ears. It's unkempt and unstyled. He used to take great care in his apparence but lately he has cared less and less. He has pale skin, a sharp contrast to his hair. He's got piercing blue eyes and full eyebrows. They're almost always pulled into a glare or deadpan. He's sculpted nose, sharp cheeks bones and jaw. His bottom lip is full and hid upper thinned out. If his face wasn't always drawn into a scowl or otherwise lifeless expression, he could be considered to be quite feminine looking.
Personality: Before, before Henri used to be youthful, charming, and a trouble maker. He had always had a longing for freedom and had always had a plan to separate from the royal family once he was old enough. He wanted to live his life as he pleased. He wanted to be carefree and happy. But in the blink of an eye, everything changed. His whole world crumpled down. His older brother, the man he looked up too and idolized, was dead. Henri became a shell of a person. He withdrew himself from everything. That charming, loving boy was no more. He was rude, blunt, looking for a fight. Ye turned to anything and everything to take the pain away. He snuck alcohol when he could, smoked where there were no cameras. And the fight, the physical part of it got him going. He needed anything to distract himself. There were always dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and his eyes were often bloodshot from crying. His knuckles were almost constantly busted from punching walls. His body had thinned as he rarely ate, leaving him fatigued and irritated. He just wanted to be left the hell alone and couldn't understand why no one would.
Background: Henri had a wonderful childhood. Perhaps his parents could have been more involved but they were royals and had a country to run. He understood that, once he got to a certain age. And it didn't matter, he had his older brother, Phillippe. He was always there for Henri. He would play with him, teach him to ride a horse, help him with his studies. Philippe was always there, encouraging him, wanting more for Henri. He was the reason Henri had a love of the world, of traveling, of being free. Philippe always encourage him to reach for me, to be more. And then tragedy struck and the whole world knew it too. Prince Philippe was assassinated. He was driving home from the airport from whatever political negotiation that had called him away. All it took was a bomb on a bridge and they were gone. The whole world expected for Henri to be okay with it. The colded and said their condolences but they didn't care. Not truly. They didn't mean those words. There was gossip if he showed too much emotion and gossip if he showed none. Nothing he did was right for the public and he wanted it all to stop.
Other: Henri was prescribed antidepressants but he doesn't take them. Everyone believes he does but he's just flushing them down the toilet when no one is looking. He doesn't need antidepressants. He just wants his brother back.

Hehe, whoops. My poor baby.

Well its half past midnight so I'm off to bed now.

Name: Félix Blaise Desrosiers
Age: 17
Gender: Cis male (He/Him)
Sexuality: Gay
Apperance: Despite only being seventeen, Félix already stands out within a crowd. He stands at 5'11" with a slim waist and triangular body shape. His eyes are dark hazel. Underneath his eyes are faint freckles that only those really close can see. He has golden hair with soft curls that is kept short. His skin is medium tan with some birthmarks here and there. There is a scar below his left eye from when he was learning how to ride a bike. It only adds detail to his soft bonefined features. His nickname at home is "Achille" because of his apperance.
Personality: Félix knows his worth and considers himself to be a force to be reckoned with, but he is a rather cautious quiet person. He's a rather gentle person actually. A caregiver with a compassionate heart, he is always looking after others or taking on their worries. Yes he is quite the ball of sunshine. His laugh can light up the whole room. He's the kind of person who will gladly stop everything in his tracks to help or cheer up. Félix tends to keep this to himself only to reveal this and more tender parts to those he deeply trusts. Trust, loyalty, and vulnerability are some of the most important things to him. He dreams of being out in the world. Going to university, traveling the world, making his mark, meeting someone to share his adventures with. All he hopes for is that he can live up to his older brother's image and make his family proud, including himself.
Background: Life has been quite lonely for him. Just a couple of years before Félix was born, his parents married only because his mom was pregnant with his older brother Gaspard. After his older brother was born, they moved to Saint Aignan-Grandlieu because his dad got a job offer being a counselor for a high school nearby.

When Félix was only four, his mom had run off and abandoned them. He doesn't know the real reason why or where she had gone. Even now in the present day, he still ponders about it; sometimes wanting to go and find her, even if it's just for a second. He'll never forget the moment when his dad sat down on the kitchen floor and cried. His dad doesn't know that Félix saw him, but he remembers.

The world just kept spinning for him. He was looked after mostly by his dad and Gaspard. A lot of times he would just stay at friend's place after school or go to football practice till one of them was ready to take him home. Eventually Félix got a bike and had to be by himself as Gaspard got a scholarship at Archambault Academy. Gaspard would always come home telling stories about school or the crazy things he would do with friends. It seemed like fun.

But back in his own school, it was different. Félix only had two close friends: Dan and Gigi. He also was in the closet about being gay. Only Dan and Gigi knew, but somehow word got out and Félix's dad had him removed out of school because of some classmates. Gaspard graduated from Archambault and was already in his first year of university. He was the one who suggested to Félix to apply for the scholarship there. And what do you know? Here he is for the last year or so, in a school full of rich and nobles, feeling like an outcast more than ever.
Other: Félix is only a quarter French. His dad is half French, half Sicilian whereas his mom is Romanian. Aside from football, he also loves writing, dancing, singing, theater, horror movies, and video games. His bike's name is Liliane.

Aww I love him.

Aww thanks. I love Henri! If you're good to go, I can send a starter. I was thinking of us starting when Henri arrives and Félix is waiting outside with the headmaster. Sound good?

Yeah that sounds good

Adrenaline makes everyone do crazy things. It makes people run around in circles at fast speeds. They feel like they are at the top of the world. For Félix, his adrenaline has kept him up since eleven-thirty five in the evening. He wasn't able to eat his breakfast, but it didn't matter since he took the early bus to Archambault.

A week ago, he was called to the headmaster's office in the middle of English class. So much anxiety had run through his veins. When Headmaster Sauveterre told him that he was chosen to show Crown Prince Henri around the whole campus, he thought that it was a mistake. Him? The simple non-res showing the heir to the French throne around the school? Good God!

And here he is now, standing at the front entrance on top of the stairs with Headmaster Sauveterre. His school uniform was iron-pressed by his dad the night before then hung up on the edge of his door. Félix could not tell anyone how many times he has adjusted his tie or tied his shoes or run his hand through his hair. Everything must be perfect, that is what Sauveterre said.

This whole time he wondered why he was picked to do this. It's not he doesn't care or has any qualms. It's just that, Félix is not someone who should be given such a job. Yes, he can do it, yet he is not like the rest of the students here. For a crown prince, they should have picked someone more noble than he is.

A fancy car came through the gates, driving towards them. The headmaster turned towards him and said, "Remember to breathe. He is a student here too. He is your fellow peer, colleague. Remember that."

Félix glanced over at the car then back at Headmaster Sauveterre. After taking a deep breath, he let his shoulders relax. He gave the headmaster a smile then turned to face the car. Adrenaline and anxiety boiled within him.

Grief was something Henri had been aquantied with. One minute, he was enjoying his life being a second son, free to do as he wished. The next, his brother was shot dead on live television. The image was engraved in his brain. He was watching the news, watching the procession as his brother was enroute back to the palace. The crowd was wild, cheering and waving. Everything was fine. And then suddenly, a shot was made and his brother was dead. It was like life froze around him. He couldn't hear anything but the shot ringing in his ears.
The next following weeks were filled with the funeral and the processions and wakes and countless people approaching him offering condolences. He had several meetings with people couldn't remember their names. He was named heir to the throne. His worst nightmares were coming true.
He tuned out the words, the people. He couldn't stand to listen to him, to hear their apologies. They didn't do it. They didn't kill his brother. He didn't want apologies and condolences. He wanted the assassin dead at his feet.
He found himself flooded with rage. It was the only outlet he could find. He often found himself in screaming matches with his parents, his attendants, anyone that was there. He would punch the walls and throw priceless vases. Anything to get it out of him. No one was listening. They weren't listening to him. They didn't care about his feelings only their image.
When a school friend offered to sneak him out to a party, he couldn't resist. He needed to escape the palace, his family, the mourning. He wanted to drink and smoke and do everything he wasn't supposed too. And it was fine for a time. He was losing himself in the alcohol and music. Until some cunt began to mouth off about the monarch and his dead brother. Henri snapped. His fist swung before his brain even registered it. He wasn't sure who was winning the fight because it sure as he'll wasn't him. But it felt good, the pain. It felt like having control of something.
The fight wasn't broken up until the police arrived and pulled then apart. Henri was shipped back home where his mother screamed at him what felt for hours, only increasing his headache. His mother made the decision to send him to Archambault Academy. A prestigious boarding school that his brother had attended.
He didn't want to go. He made his opinion very clear but he was not heard. The decision was final and his belongings were already being packed. He would leave in a weeks time.
That was how Henri found himself in an armored vehicle traveling through the country to a boarding school. He was dressed in his uniform but it was wrinkled and untucked. His hair was tangled and fell in his face. He was sporting a black eye and bruised jaw, followed by busted knuckles and countless hidden bruises from the fight. Henri didn't care how he looked. He didn't want to be there and he would make that known. He had no interest to make an effort in his studies or social obligations. If his family wouldn't let budge, he would do his best to get kicked out.
As they came to a stop in front of the school, he pulled his airport away and tucked them in his pocket. He had been yelled at enough these days, he didn't fancy another scolding. He waited for his guards to finished sweeping the front and for the driver to open the door for him. He stepped out of the car, feet planted on the ground, and eyes trained on the ground.

The car stopped. His heart thumped. Adrenaline kept rushing on. It is time. He still isn't ready. He knows the whole campus inside out, even the parts he normally doesn't go to because he doesn't live here and yet, he isn't ready. All this deep breathing he was advised to do is making his head light.

Félix stared at the crown prince and his disheveled appearance. He wasn't sure what to think. Definitely not like how they show him on TV or in those Instagram posts. Memories of watching the news and seeing Gaspard drained with botched eyes. The school having a week of mourning and the memorial in Allard Hall. He remembers the videos Gigi showed of the prince fighting someone at a party. The new and the already infamous Crown Prince Henri right in front of him. Here at Archambault Academy.

No one was moving. Everything was silent. Glancing over at the headmaster, he decided to go down the stairs. Sauveterre opened his mouth to say something, but followed him with a professional smile. Now they were only a small, few feet away, distance from the crown prince.

Headmaster Sauveterre bowed, "Greetings, Your Highness…My deepest condolences from us all. Welcome to our school. I hope the journey here was not long." Félix was confused at first then bowed as well. He kept his eyes to the gravel.

"I talked with Her Majesty over the phone and we have everything prepared for you. It is an honor to be your headmaster. If you ever need anything, please come to me." Sauveterre put his hand on Félix's shoulder briefly. "This is Félix Desrosiers. He is in your class and will be showing you around our campus then taking you to your dorm while I talk with your guards and make sure everything is in place."

The headmaster patted him, signaling for him to step forward. Félix followed, bowing once again. A gentle smile rested on his face, although concern had settled in his eyes as he looked at the crown prince. "It is an honor to be showing you around Archambault campus, Your Highness." He held his arm back, motioning towards the stairs. "If you'll please follow me, we can begin our little tour."

Waiting for a sign of reassurance, he glanced over till given a nod from Sauveterre. So far so good. Softly, he took a deep breath. He turned and walked towards the stairs.

Henri kept his head down, tuning out the headmaster. He had heard too many condolences they all sounded the same. He bristled under the formalities. He wasn't 'Your Highness.' He was Henri. Just Henri. No one cared about calling him Henri when he was a second son.
He finally raised his head, just high enough to look at the people in front of him. His bruising was now painfully obvious as his head raised and his hair shifted. He shoved his bruised hands into his pockets, hiding at least that from the world. His focus gazed over the headmaster and settled on the boy next to him. He looked about Henri's age. They were the same height, similar body types from what he could see, but that's where the similarities ended. While Henri was pale, this boy, Felix his name was, was tanned. He had golden hair in contrast to Henri's black. He spotted freckles dancing along his face and a scar just below his left eye. He found he much preferred looking at this boy as opposed to the headmaster.
During this entire exchange, Henri didn't say a word. He didn't have the energy to exchange niceties. Should he open his mouth, something unpleasant would likely come out. His face was pulled into a deadpan stare, vastly different from the bright smiles and composed face he showed to the public. It was all about images. Everything was about his image. He just wanted to be free from it all.
Henri followed Felix's eyes to the headmaster before dragging them back to the schoolboy. His relationships and sexual preference had all been kept under wraps but there was always rumors and speculation that he wasn't only into women. It was true of course, but his mother couldn't have that. He needed to marry a woman and father heirs and strength the bloodline. He could care less about all of that. But it was what Phillippe would have done so he must as well.
But in the meantime, Felix was a lot prettier to look at than that old man for a headmaster.
Henri placed one foot in front of the other, following him up the stairs. He had held his tongue until this point. "It's Henri, not Your Higness or any other ridiculous name you want to call me."
His voice sounded scratchy, broken. He was every piece the broken man he portrayed. There were no cameras around to show his face to the world. There, he could be himself. A shell of his former self

The more he kept getting glimpses of the crown prince, the more his heart ached to do something. Félix wanted to fix the prince's hair or help make his clothes look neater or put medicine on the bruises. Of course, he can only think these things. There must be more reasons why the crown prince is this way. It most likely is more than he can imagine.

Slowly but surely he went up the stairs. His smile persisted as he looked over his shoulder at the crown prince. This is unbelievable to him. He is going to school with a member of the royal family and he is the one to show the crown prince this school. Gaspard is going to be so excited when he gets to tell him this! Maybe this will all go well. The adrenaline will be worth it.

He stopped on the top stair, taking in the crown prince's words carefully. "Oh okay…okay…okay…" The back of his neck, as well as his face, turned a faint red. Great, he's already fucking things up. He was following orders from the headmaster though. He was following through every single instruction. Was he doing a good job? Is he ruining things for the crown- for Henri?

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed. Breathe. Very faintly did he smile. "Sorry, Henri…I was just following instructions," He nodded. Instructions…Just instructions. Following them won't get him on anyone's bad side, right? Oh, he can only hope.

"I uh…um…um…" He swallowed then hid his face to clear his throat. "When we go by the lockers near the study rooms and library…I have a little first-aid kit with medicine I can use for your bruises. That is if you want to, I'm not forcing you to do anything or whatever…"

He shook his head. "But anyways…" Rushing to the entrance, he opened the one door. "Our first stop is the lobby. It has two stairs on the sides. One goes to Hugo Hall leading to classrooms and the other leads to the lounge, café, music rooms, and so on. It's really pretty. Come on!"

Henri caught up to the schoolboy, now standing beside him parrellel. He tilted his head, curious at his reaction. Félix looked to be blushing. He had no doubt in his his mind that he and every other person in this school had been instructed to call him by formalities. That would get very old and tiring quickly.
He was just Henri.
Always had been and always would be.
Henri gave a slow nod at his words. "Despite what you were told, I'd prefer to be called Henri. I'd rather not be called on in class by 'Your Highness.' My name will do. No one had an issue with it before."
Before he was heir.
Before his brother was dead.
Before his life took a complete 180.
He was taken aback at his words. This completely stranger offering medical help. Not that a teenager his own age could offer much than simple first aid. His hand came up to his jaw, his fingertips brushing gently and wincing at the pain. No, he rather quote liked the bruises.
"No," he cleared his throat. "But ah, thanks for the offer." Not everyone deserved his cruelty. Félix had nothing wrong. While he may be bitter and short with people, Félix had done nothing to deserve that treatment. He still understood that there line to draw, even if that line had been redrawn.
Henri glanced through doors before shifting his gaze back to the schoolboy. He had no care for a tour of the school and would rather explore on it his own in the dead of night. He preferred to be alone and he didn't want to be paraded around the school so everyone could stop and stare.
His fingers itched to grab the pack of cigarettes hidden on his person and take a smoke. He preferred to smoke blunts over cigarettes but his was easier to get his hands on and sneak it on with him. They helped provide him with some calmness. It calmed the anger, the nerves, the anxiety. He turned to alcohol when he wanted to numb everything. When he wanted the mind and body dulled, he would drink.
"I bet it is." Henri murmured sarcastically under his breath.

Félix strolled into the lobby. He closed the door once Henri had gone through then rushed to be at the crown prince's side. It is quite pretty. The floor is a checkered marble and the half ivory half wooden walls were redone over the summer break. Not to mention, his favorite part, the painting on the ceiling of clouds and angels. It's one of Gaspard's favorite parts too.

Henri's words reminded him of something he wanted to say, but wasn't sure if he could around Headmaster Sauveterre. It's not about the whole what to call Henri thing, but rather it's more related to the last thing he said. Maybe he can bring it up later when they stop by the pond or while on the way to the dorms.

"No worries. I'm sure everyone will pick up on it. We just want to make sure that everything is alright for you," He nodded. "But mostly me, I guess? I don't know. Headmaster gave me this job and told me to look after you these first few weeks…I'm sure you will be fine though, Henri."

The look of concern and worry still burned in his eyes. Now that can he sort of has a closer look at Henri and his bruises, he can tell that it's bad. The coloring seems to be dark even though it should be changing by now. His heart sunk a little at the wincing, at the decline of medicine. Why?

He ran his hand through his hair. "Okay…It's alright. The offer will always stand." Félix stared at the floor, smiling a little. There was still an itch to fix Henri's hair or put ointment on those bruises. Oh his weird brain and heart needs to stop it.

But anyways, tour. It's still tour time. His finger rested upon his bottom lip. Should they go through Hugo Hall while there's still class or should they go the other one? He was going to ask Henri which one, but he felt a little bit of apathy coming from the crown prince. Believe him, he doesn't blame Henri for this. Poor thing has gone through so much change and now he is going through more. It has to be exhausting. If only he could help…If only…

Félix turned to face Henri. "You probably know what this place looks like already," He sighed. "Is there anything you want me to show you or should I just take you to your room? I can always show you around some other time if you want…"

Maybe if Henri said yes to his alternative plan, he could go get his backpack and the first-aid kit then let the cro- let Henri borrow it. This could work. Headmaster Sauveterre might be a bit angry at him for this, but he can always come up with some sort of excuse.