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Princess Pansy's Peckish Problems	By : Mousse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Pansy Views: 21557 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and not a work of profit. Some lines are taken off from and some scenes resemble that of Reign (tv show) but, I do not own Harry Potter or Reign. History has no bearing in this narrative.

Chapter List
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Pansy laughed at whatever drivel Count Yaxley has said. The tasteless man was obviously inebriated and the wedding reception hasn’t reached its peak. She painfully endured her boredom as she was odiously force to engage in a one-sided conversation with the egotistic and proud man but, she was glad of the distraction it brought. He was the perfect barricade in case the fair-haired French Prince came to occupy her. Two months has passed since she broke off all relations with the dashing Prince and she made it her life’s goal to avoid him. When eluding him is not possible which was frequent, she would act as normal as she could.
               Life at French Court became exceedingly difficult as every female within the vicinity offered her their pity, eyes reflecting their sympathies as she strode past them. It angered her to no end as they act as if she was made of porcelain or her mother just died. Of course, she would give them no satisfaction by showing them her true feelings but, no one seemed to mind if she was mildly scathing or provoking. She enjoyed conversing with the other ladies, who were clearly not pitying her, at Court as it gave her a different train of thought as well as provided her with plentiful of entertainment. She let them teach her their individual crafts and advised her to add her own flair.
She took their teachings at heart and in less than a day after she had her lesson with them, she was barely the same girl that they’ve known five months ago. She wore her heartbreak well as she strutted down the halls with the latest Parisian fashion she spiced up with her own alterations made by the best of Parisian designers that France has to offer. She wore the most exquisite cosmetics freshly-shipped from Italy, decked her neck, ears, fingers with the finest diamonds and pearls Asia has to offer, and sported a perfume she crafted herself. She took walks around Paris, flaunting her superior grace and posh countenance which was met with envious stares and appreciative looks as she strolled down the busy streets of the grand city.
Her daily excursion outside the palace walls would merit her a cold, uncaring gaze from the King and an affronted sneer from the Queen. At first, their reactions to her rebellious attitude grated on her nerves but, once she had gotten used to her new lifestyle, she simply dismissed their unwanted attention. If they could overlook their son’s habitual disappearance then, her daily ventures in the city should be the least of their concerns. After all, she was unbound to them. She was more or less free to do whatever she pleases.
Due to her lack of decorum, the Queen found it her duty to inform of her parents about her displeasing attitude. They arrived in France just shy of a week before Princess Cassiopeia’s wedding and apologized to the French royalty about her unpleasant behaviour. Being the benevolent rulers they are, King Lucius and Queen Narcissa forgave her for her faults and invited her parents as a peace offering. Scotland’s monarch readily agreed and the tense affair ended with a flourish. Within the privacy of her chambers, her parents regaled to her about their spiteful feelings for the blonde couple. Even if they accepted France’s alliance with England, they still felt insulted and neglected by the swift allegiance of France to England.
During the assembly with her parents and the current monarch of France, it was agreed upon that she be allowed to stay at French Court provided they assist her in scouting for a husband to bring home in exchange for Scotland to supply France with timber. It was a fair trade for both parties to which the royals signed upon as a new arrangement. Unbeknownst to the King and Queen of France, her parents’ proposition was merely a front in order for her to extract her revenge for the humiliation done by France. She unequivocally supported her parents’ decision and promised them to bring France to its ruin. Now, standing in front of one of the most influential men in the entirety of France and smiling insipidly at his awful jokes, Pansy realized that bringing France to its knees might be as simple as taking a candy from a baby if all men fall to her feet after a harmless chat.
Growing tired of listening to the Count’s foolish and highly-fictional tales, she let her eyes wander around the Grand Ballroom in search for her next target. She highly doubt that the Count would even notice that she wasn’t paying attention as he seemed to be absorbed talking to himself, singing praises to his magnificence and unmistakable masculinity. She was disappointed to see that most of France’s aristocrats were either occupied by foreign dignitaries or intoxicated after too many glasses of wine. She inwardly fumed at her luck of having the misfortune of being stuck with the Count. She only has herself to blame as she singled him out amongst the many others that were dying to have an audience with her.
Only when she was conversing with the Count did she realize her mistake and remember the innumerable warnings the other ladies at Court told her regarding the Count. After spending a night within the oppressive company of the narcissistic man, she wanted nothing more than to retire to her bedchambers and have a much required sleep. She stood up from her seat and placed down her goblet as she sneaked away from the table she occupied with the Count. She eyed him carefully, in case he notices that she was missing but, being the self-involved man that he is, he barely noticed her absence and Pansy skipped away hurriedly, passing through the throng of people banding with one another and weaving out of the way of dancing couples.
Obscured from the rest of the crowd, she leaned against the cool surface of the pillar, sighing contently as she was finally free from the endless and mindless chatter of the Count. She could barely remember anything from their conversation and given her dislike for the man, she could care less.
“Notte dura?” (Rough night?) A voice – deep, masculine, and alluring – asked with a heavy Italian accent spicing up his equally spicy voice as soft footsteps padded towards her, stopping abruptly inches beside her and she could feel the heat rolling off the body of the stranger.
               Her head wheeled at him not because of his sudden appearance but, because of his sweet scent, the smell of aromatic woods with citrus notes, wafted to her nose with its sophisticated and seductive fragrance. Her eyes were met with Golden-Brown eyes, sparkling against the candlelight like stars. He had an angular face, the sharp edges softened by the smile playing on his full lips. His dark skin, as rich as chocolate, matched perfectly with his Maroon and White Italian frippery. On his finger, a signet ring with a crest she identified as the symbol of the Italian royal family sat proudly, indicating that the man before her is royalty. As if reading her thoughts, the man chuckled at her, his laughter opulent and husky, bringing delightful shivers down her spine.
“Perdona la mia maleducazione, Principessa. I am Blaise Zabini, Crown Prince of the Italian throne.” (Forgive my rudeness, Princess. I am Blaise Zabini, Crown Prince of the Italian throne.) He exclaimed, bowing at her before taking her hand and laid a butterfly kiss upon her skin, his bright, Golden eyes focused on her.
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I am Pansy Parkinson, Scotland’s future Queen.” She introduced, her head dipping to a bow. She noticed that the Italian Prince hasn’t relinquished his hold on her hand and she felt her lips twitch in amusement.
“I heard rumours about your beauty. I must say, the rumours didn’t give you enough justice. You are much more beautiful than they give you credit for.” He declared. She blushed at his words and once again, he chuckled at her, summoning a flurry of fireflies to flutter inside her belly.
“You flatter me, Prince. I do not understand as to how I earned such praise.” She said, meekly, gazing at him beneath her lush lashes.
“I do not flatter. I merely speak the truth. Sei una bellezza da vedere.” (I do not flatter. I merely speak the truth. You are a beauty to behold.) The Prince professed as he bestowed yet another kiss upon her knuckles although, this time, his lips seemed to have lingered. He finally released her hand from his grip but, not before caressing the inside of her wrist with his finger, jolting her with bolts of pleasurable shudders.
“I know when to declare defeat in a battle. Considering you are relentless with your claim, I hereby announce my loss.” She stated, playfully, her Obsidian orbs dancing with glee.
“Such an early admittance, even for you. I suppose that’s the effect that I have for most people.” He boasted with a grin. She laughed at his ego.
“Are you always this confident?” She asked, her tone genuinely curious.
“Oh, I can assure you that I am nervous. I have been waiting for two hours for you. I saw that Count Yaxley had you engaged and it is not in my character to intrude in people’s conversation.” He admitted, making her stare at him in disbelief.
“You…were waiting…for me.” She repeated unevenly, her lips parted at the incredulity of the statement.
“Truly. I was watching you the entire time. I wanted an audience with you but, unfortunately, you ignored most of the people and headed for the Count. I must say in confidence with you that as conversation partners go, the Count is absolutely the worst and as a concerned party, I must impress upon you that you choose your dialogue companions wisely.” He advised with an elegant tilt of his head and a smile on his face. His words woke her up from her shocked stupor and made her smirk wickedly.
“I must confess, I admit that the Count is the worst choice but, in the seven months that I have been at Court, I have never spoken to the man. He’s been away from a voyage permitted by the King and he returned yesterday afternoon. After a long absence at Court, the King decided it was wise to invite him to Princess Cassiopeia’s wedding in order to celebrate his successful expedition and to be re-acquainted with friends. I aligned myself with him since it is to be expected with a royal and as I am a royal, I merely upheld my duty. As for the other matter, I thank you for your concern but, I can choose sensibly. In the span of my stay here, I have learned and re-learned the ways to life at Court. If you are still concerned, how about you teach me?” She inquired, her voice melting into a seductive whisper as she slowly moved closer to him until her lips were inches from his own.
               Eyes on his tempting lips, Pansy felt her tongue dart out of her mouth, moistening her dry lips. She felt his large hand slip at her side, gradually closing the gap between them. Her eyes drifted to a close as she felt his breath on her lips. Her body hummed in excitement as the silky surface of his lips grazed against hers.
“Pansy!” A familiar voice called amidst the cacophony of sounds.
               The young woman jumped in surprise upon hearing the call of her friend. She looked behind her and beyond the cover of the darkness and secrecy of the pillar to see her four ladies-in-waiting searching for her among the sea of people.
“It seems like you are needed, Your Highness.” He stated, looking at the four ladies wading through the party.
               Turning back, she saw the Italian Prince staring at her with an indulgent expression and disappointment settled down in her chest.
“Yes, it would seem so. I would not linger longer. I would hate to make my ladies search for me any longer. I shall make my leave, Your Grace. It’s been a pleasure to speak with you.” She replied, conversationally, covering her dismay with a sweet smile. She bowed at him and made her way to her friends, who spotted her, when she felt a hand envelop her wrist.
               Looking down, she saw the rich, chocolate skin of her previous companion. Raising her head to question his actions, she bit down the inquiry on her lips as he stepped closer to her and leaned down to whisper at her ear.
“Don’t feel upset, Pansy. I’m a concerned party more than willing to teach you. I will see you again.” He murmured, hotly and huskily.
               Before pulling away, he licked her earlobe and she sucked in her breath at his gesture. He stepped back and watched as her face redden, smirking at his effect on her. The Prince offered her a wink before strolling away, leaving her in a state of chaos as her mind battled against her desire for the debonair Italian and the company of her ladies-in-waiting.
“What were you doing with Prince Blaise?” A soft voice inquired from behind her, joggling her out of her musings.
               Spinning on her heel, her friends, who were her ladies-in-waiting as well, appeared before her and looked at her questioningly.
“Oh, we were just talking. He saved me from a rather dull conversation with Count Yaxley.” She replied, smiling innocently at the blonde girl.
“That didn’t look as if you were just talking.” She retorted, her neat brows arching elegantly.
“Whatever do you mean, Daphne?” She questioned.
“Don’t pretend, Pansy. We saw you hidden behind the pillar.” She answered, gesturing at the pillar that she and the Prince hid behind moments ago.
“He looked as if he was about to kiss you, too. Not that you were complaining.” A girl, with the same Sapphire eyes as Daphne, intoned.
“Dear Lord, what sort of thoughts has been running in your mind, Astoria? You and Daphne have the same train of thought. Is that an in-born talent of siblings or does it only manifest on both of you?” Pansy mockingly quizzed, her face morphing into a mask of cool irritation.
“Calm down. We’re just concerned about you. It would be to your utmost discretion that you remain as mere acquaintances with Prince Blaise. There are a lot of horrible rumours about him.” The soothing voice of Gemma Farley explained, shooting the siblings a warning glare to which they returned with a simmering huff.
“There are rumours about all royals.” She retorted.
“He has a reputation for…his tryst with women.” A timid voice piped in as her eyes darted to and fro, afraid that the said man was listening.
“Tell me, Tracy, which royal doesn’t have tête-à-têtes with women?” Pansy challenged, sneering at her petite lady-in-waiting.
“We all know the answer to that but, what Tracy meant was you ought to be careful. The Prince is notorious for his wicked ways. Once he grew uninterested, he will leave you.” Gemma lectured, grabbing her hands and wrapped them in a tight squeeze.
“Let me ask again. Which royal doesn’t do that?”
“You do not understand. He’s been with more women than most of the royals combined. Who’s to know if he hasn’t impregnated any of the women he’s been with? As the future Queen of Scotland, you can’t afford to get tangled in his business. Any child he bears will be labelled as a bastard as he himself is a bastard. It doesn’t matter if he marries a noble lady or a Princess. He is still a bastard son of the King.” Daphne responded in a low voice, her Blue eyes turning icy and jagged.
“Well, he’s been legitimized.” Astoria exclaimed, earning a harsh glare from her elder sister to which she smiled brightly.
“It doesn’t matter if he’s been legitimized. Most of the Italian nobles and the King’s Privy Council are against him. They all support Prince Nicolo, the Queen’s son to the King. The only reason why Prince Blaise was claimed and legitimized was because of Prince Nicolo’s poor health. If he wasn’t unfit, he would be the one inheriting the throne of Italy. With so many against him, his claim to the throne would be tumulus. Even if you were to be engaged with him, the Italians would still be against him as long as he’s the one claiming the throne.” The blonde girl elucidated.
“Why do you talk as if I would marry him? I was merely talking to him.” Pansy defended herself, a frown marring her unblemished face.
“We know you. You don’t talk to people unless they piqued your interest or you are forced to do so. I don’t think you were forced to talk to him considering he was well within your personal space so, I could only conclude that he managed to stir your curiosity with whatever charms he used.” Astoria specified with a tip of her head.
“In essence, we just want you to be cautious. It would not do you well if you remain in contact with him. Remember, we managed to stay here due to your parents’ new arrangement with the King and Queen. You don’t want to fall out of their graces if you cavort with the Prince. Your relationships are filtered by the King. If he dislikes the man requesting for your hand even if you happen to like him, your relationship will end. Given the fact that the Prince hasn’t asked for your hand and is already making his move, the King will undoubtedly dismiss him. Pansy, have some restraint. I know this is an especially difficult time for you but, this is not the best time to do something rash.” Gemma pleaded, the grip on her hand tightening at her obvious fear for her tendency for recklessness.
               Watching her friends’ anxious expressions, she sighed and nodded her head in agreement. Upon seeing her surrender, they smiled at her, grateful that she heeded their words.
“Now that is over and done with, I would like for all of us to go dancing.” She exclaimed with a wide smile to which her friends responded with a smile of their own.
               Immediately, the group took off their shoes and went to the middle of the ballroom, where couples danced to the beat. Hand-in-hand, the five friends spun around the dance floor, their laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the room with their melodious giggles coupled with the upbeat music. Spectators joyously joined their number and soon, she was dancing in the center with people she barely knew but, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was enjoying the night even if it started horrendously. The orchestra ended the song with a flourish and feathers fell from the ceiling, raining upon them like snow. Upon seeing the White plumes, she remembered a time long ago when she was six. She used to play pillow fights with Draco and it would end up with them covered in feathers.
               On impulse, Pansy sought him out amongst the crowd and spotted him staring back at her. Her bare feet moved with a mind of its own only stopping when she felt a hand on her elbow and breathy giggles.
“Look! Princess Cassiopeia and Prince Mathias are leaving!” Tracy squealed in excitement, a stark difference with her reticent voice earlier.
“It’s time for the consummation, the ritual, the mystery. Aren’t you curious?” Astoria asked, her body leaning towards her as she spoke but, she wasn’t listening.
               Her attention was focused on the fair-haired Prince who plagued her dreams at night, keeping her awake until the wee hours of the morning thinking about what could have been. She wanted to talk to him, to clarify the problem between them but, her pride wouldn’t allow her to do so. Now, standing in the middle of the dance floor, she wanted nothing more but, to listen to what he might have to say. The moment never came as she was whisked away by her four friends, animatedly chattering and giggling about the consummation to take place.
               They half-ran, half-walked along the halls of the palace all the while excitedly babbling about what to expect. They schooled their expressions into a far more respectable façade whenever they would pass by a noble or servant before bursting into fits of laughter. They finally reached the corridor leading to the designated room where the consummation was to be held. The five hurried in their steps but, vigilantly padded through in order to avoid being caught. They reached the chamber and squeezed their bodies into a narrow corner possessing a small, barred window. Astoria shoved the curtain away, revealing to them Princess Cassiopeia preparing with the help of her ladies-in-waiting. By the side were the clergymen and the King’s chosen noble audience to witness the ceremony.
“I still can’t believe that they actually watch them…you know…” Tracy quietly exclaimed, her Hazel eyes tinted with hesitation.
“I thought you wanted to watch, Tracy. Getting cold feet, are we?” Astoria teased.
“Shh! Keep it down! We’ll get caught!” Daphne hissed with an icy glare.
“Shut it. The Prince is arriving.” Gemma announced, pressing herself further into the cover of the darkness to avoid detection.
               The five held their breath as the Prince and his aids went inside the room. The people inside bowed at the Spanish Prince and as soon as he entered, the clergymen began to move their hands to perform the Sign of the Cross and uttered a prayer. Their voices were low and haunting which seemed highly incompatible with the mood. She wasn’t the only one who thought so as Cassiopeia looked at them with tense eyes. Her attention was diverted from them when Mathias grabbed her head between his hands and whispered to her words of comfort before bestowing her a soft smile. Dropping one hand to snake around her waist, the Prince swooped down her lips and placed a chaste kiss upon her. As if a flame has been ignited between them, the Princess responded by kissing him with fervor.
               The wedded couple tumbled down in bed where they continued to give into their passion and love. Moans and groans of pleasure resounded around them as the couple’s desire for one another reached its peak. Pansy felt her eyes prick at the beauty and purity of the ceremony. At first, it appalled her to have people watch her as she made love with her husband but, now that she saw it, she realized it was another proof she can present to God that she loved no one else greater than she love her husband. She thought of Draco and imagined what would have been like to consummate their marriage under the watchful eye of the clergy.
               Surely, she would have been nervous and tense as Cassiopeia was but, like Mathias, Draco would have quelled her fears with a smile. He would have kissed her with the enthusiasm she came to know and desire. He would have caressed her skin lovingly and ardently, making her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world but, that didn’t apply to them anymore. He was set to marry England’s Princess in months’ time and she was doomed to witness it all. Disliking the train of her thoughts, she pushed herself off the ledge and turned to her friends.
“Let’s go.”
               Not caring whether the four females followed her out of the corner, Pansy walked out of the dark corner and into the light. Turning to her back, she saw her friends sporting differing shades of blush in their faces and realized that they have problems to take care of.
“Go. Go wherever you want.” She ordered.
               Even before she could finish her words, the four girls run off, sprinting wherever they wish and to whomever they wish. Mimicking their actions, she hastily made way for her chambers to cure her frustrations and to turn in for the night when a hand darted out from a hidden junction just a few meters away from the corner they emerged from. She gasped in shock at the sudden attack and at the feel of the rock-hard chest pillowing her back.
“Bisogno di risparmiare?” (In need of saving?) He asked, gruffly and enticing, as rougish arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer into his chiselled chest, the smell of aromatic woods with citrus notes invaded her senses with its sophisticated and seductive scent.
“Non sono una damigella in pericolo, ma apprezzo il pensiero.” (I’m no damsel in distress but, I appreciate the thought.) She replied as her body unconsciously leaned further against the delicious figure of her new companion, her mind screaming at her to stop, the words of her friends surfacing to the forefront.
“Se non lo sei allora, cosa ti rende, Principessa?” (If you aren't then, what does make you, Princess?) He whispered against her ear, his breath hot against her skin and his lips ghosting at the soft flesh of her ear.
“Il tuo sogno più selvaggio e il tuo più grande incubo.” (Your wildest dream and your biggest nightmare.) She answered breathily as his large hand travelled from her navel and brushed against the underside of her breast which elicited a sinful moan from her.
“Mi trovo d'accordo con le tue parole, Vostra Grazia.” (I find myself agreeing with your words, Your Grace.) He purred, his lips nibbling at the shell of her ear as his fingers deftly caressed the smooth flesh of her neck.
               Throwing caution to the wind, she whirled around and pulled him into a searing kiss. She gasped as she felt his erection at her stomach and heat rushed between her legs. She licked his lips, her tongue grazing the soft flesh of his mouth and the Prince eagerly opened his mouth to her, letting her take charge of their lips’ frenzied dance. She fought against him for dominance but, as he coaxed her tongue to swirl with his as he leisurely explored the inside of her mouth with his deft caress, she found herself melting into his arms, gripping at his arms for support as she felt her knees turning wobbly.
               Seemingly aware of her dilemma, the Prince hoisted her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to kiss her senseless within the dim darkness. She felt exhilarated at her exploits with the Italian Prince, inciting more of her passion as she moaned against his lips at the sheer touch of his tongue upon her own. Taking her sighs of pleasure as a signal, he dipped his head to her neck, licking and nipping at her milky flesh, lavishing every inch with the attention of his silky lips. She gasped as his hand skimmed over the fabric containing her chest and her nipples hardened into pebbles at his warm touch. She urged him further by placing a hand on his neck, directing him to where she wanted his lust at.
               He allowed her to guide him and she groaned in ecstasy as he kissed his way down her swelling mounds of flesh. He slowly licked the exposed skin of her chest before tugging down the fabric encasing her breasts with his teeth. She sighed in relief at the feel of liberation but, it soon turned into a mewl of pleasure as she felt hot kisses pressed upon her soft skin. Unconsciously, her back arched, bringing her body closer to his skilful lips. Her eyes fluttered close when he sucked on her breast, lapping up on the pebbled peak like candy.
She lost all reason and mindfulness to her surroundings when she felt his hand trailing up her leg under her dress. He caressed the smooth surface of her skin with strong hands and she felt more desire build up in her stomach. His thumb glided to her inner thigh and her heart drummed beneath her chest in anticipation. Her eyes flew open when she felt fingers caressing the throbbing flesh underneath her silk underwear. She heard the soft chuckle of the Prince and she looked down at him to see him teasingly bite his lips with his teeth. She felt her lust for him spike higher and she ground her hips against his, making him hiss.
“Dimmi. Dimmi cosa vuoi. Dimmelo e te lo darò.” (Tell me. Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.) He said, hotly and huskily as he inched closer to her until she can taste his breath on her lips.
               Moving her hands to his chest, she pulled him to her lips and she kissed him with fervor, her teeth imprisoning his lips as she nibbled at the puffy flesh. She trailed her lips down his jaw, planting breathy kisses on her path as she made her way to his ear. She bit his auricle and she revelled in the grunt he made.
“Stammi su. Messmici bene. Prendimi.” (Stir me up. Mess me good. Take me.) She murmured, heady with lust as she licked his earlobe, tantalizingly.
               At her ministration, he growled primitively before grabbing her face with two hands and crashing his lips against hers. This time, their kiss was fuelled with greed and the need for release as their seduction with one another exploded to the surface. His hands trailed down her body, leaving behind a line of heat on her body, making her breathless and raging with hunger. She whimpered against his lips as his hands dipped between her legs, shoving aside the wet and thin fabric separating his skin from her heated core. He tugged on her crisp hairs and she shuddered in delight at the mild pain and pleasure it showered her body. His thumb swiped her clitoris and her hips instinctively bucked under his hand.
               He laughed at her eagerness, the vibrations transferring to her, quaking her insides and intensifying her arousal. She squeezed his shoulders in an attempt to hurry him but, her worries evaporated as quickly as they came when his fingers slid inside her wet nether lips. She gasped at his warmth, her head thrown back in pleasure. She felt him move, his lips mercilessly kissing her throat as his fingers pumped in and out of her core, the tips curling as he nudged her walls. Her eyes flew open and she screamed, unconcerned whether someone heard, as he twisted his fingers and scraped his fingertips at her pulsing sugar walls.
               Her reaction prompted him to continue with his actions a few more times he coupled with a caress of her exposed breast with his tongue. Feeling she was nearing her climax, the Prince pumped his fingers faster, his thumb massaging her clit awfully slowly to help her build her release faster. As her walls tightened, her hands clutched at his shoulders tighter, nails digging deliciously on her back. He pulled her head into his free hand and sealed her lips with his own as she came, her warm juices flowing on his palm. He pulled away to watch her face, flushed and glowing from the smile splayed on her lips. She breathed out heavily as she calmed herself from her high and after recovering her breath, she gazed at him with a dazed expression.
“Do that again.” She exclaimed and the Prince gave her a slow, lazy smile to which she returned with a grin of her own.
“Perhaps somewhere with a bed, Principessa. I haven’t seen all of you yet.” He replied with a saucy wink.
“How about we find someplace where you can see all of me and I, you?” She asked, her arms tugging him closer to her as she kissed his chin.
“Concordato. Ci sono molte altre cose che voglio insegnarti.” (Agreed. There are plenty more that I want to teach you.)
A/N: The Italian words here are translated using Google Translate so, if there are errors, don't hate me. I tried my best. The bold dialogue of Pansy came from Reign Season 1 Episode 4: Hearts and Minds. Then, Astoria's dialogue came from Reign Season 1 Episode 1: Pilot. It was Kenna who said that during the wedding ceremony of Princess Elizabeth and Prince Phillip (Holy shit, I remember even the episode titles!). It's not mine (I can only wish, *sighs). Anyway, wew! That was intense! Lol. I had the best time writing this because I found it funny that Blaise and Pansy were already flirting with one another when they barely met! But, I don't think that that particular scene doesn't happen in real life. So, tell me what you guys think! Rate, review, follow, and favorite!
Love, love, love,

Mousse
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Princess Pansy's Peckish Problems