What If…?

What if Alexander hadn't gone off to war after meeting Drusilla? What if he, instead, decided that he wanted to stay home and play? This is only remotely attached to OSTSG—more for my amusement than anything else. I'd place it under Fan Fiction, but I can't (seeing as how I'm the author, it'd make it rather…awkward, wouldn't it?). So, this is a side-story with very little to do with the real story.

This is dedicated to any of you who have fallen in love with the Alex/Dru coupling as much as I have. For some reason, I never put enough interaction between the two in the main story (which I'll have to rectify in the rewrite). Although it has been overdone to the extreme—the shy, intelligent and introverted girl and the outspoken, brash and whimsical boy—I still adore Dru and Alex. So, without further ado…

The king of Exultia had left to fight in a war against the neighboring kingdom of Kratin, leaving behind his beloved wife, three beautiful daughters, his adorable youngest son, and the greatest headache he could ever have—the heir to his throne—Alexander. As much as he loathed to depart from them, he refused to pay an unreasonably high price to use Kratin's ports to maintain his kingdom's economy. Have Kratin use his kingdom to make itself rich? Not on his life. Yes, Exultia was landlocked. And it might have been easier to just travel the extra distance to Vierra in order to use the ports there. But the Kratinians had insulted him with their blatant disrespect, and he was a very proud man.

So, off to war he had gone, taking with him only his best knights (Victor, Drusilla's step-father, being one of them). Of course, those who were too old to fight had their own uses. He had left Alexander in the capable hands of two men who taught him everything he knew about discipline—Lords Noctis and Rasmus. Of course, a substantial number of years had passed since he had been a boy, and the two men had long since grown out of the disciplined manner they used to have. Had King Henry actually suspected this, he might've left behind some younger, more adept knights to educate his unruly son.

Sadly, this was not the case, and the king had placed complete faith in the two men being able to discipline—take care of—his son until he was deemed ready to join him in battle. The boy was twelve years old! It was time enough he learned his place in the world. It was his mother who coddled him and let him get away with all sorts of travesties. Of course, Queen Francine would defend herself to the ends of the Earth, saying that he was only a boy, and boys needed to explore the world and express themselves how they saw fit before they could mature completely. She thought Alexander was rightfully doing what he should be doing, although she did reprimand him for broken windows and destroyed rooms.

And Alexander? He agreed with neither of them, believing his father to be far too expectant of him and his mother to be delusional in thinking he would ever grow out of his personality. The world was far too interesting a place for him to sit on a throne or fight some war. He could care less about the power that stood before him if only he would follow his father. He wanted to enjoy life. After all, life was far too short, and there were so many things he could do—so much fun he could have.

This wasn't to say that the boy wasn't smart or hadn't done what he needed to in order to be king. He was revered to be quite the swordsman for so young an age, and he was far too clever for his own good. At least, that was what the maids would say while shaking their heads as they cleaned up a room that had been almost completely torn apart. He had a knack for being able to talk his way out of anything, and his father very seldom won any argument with him—a point that his mother often lorded over her husband.

So, how did he meet Drusilla? If he was so great, why should he have cared about a plain, boring girl?

The answer? He didn't. At the time when his father had left, he could've cared less about any girl—much less a boring one. But we'll fast-forward a bit past the pranks and the scoldings, past the tea-parties his mother and sisters often held at the castle, until we get to one very special day. And this is where our first mini-story begins…