Chapter Text
The "princess’s" POV:
“We are gathered here today—” The priest began, as the princess’s large white wedding dress slid a little lower off their pale skin; they pulled the back of the dress up to keep it in place. “—to celebrate the joining together of Princess Cassandra Cortezia Novak and King Dean Winchester.”
This would be great and all.
Blue eyes looked up into kind green eyes that smiled in happiness down at them. Their hands held each other, and despite how sweaty the princess’s hands were, he didn’t seem to care.
If I were Princess Cassandra Cortezia Novak and not her fraternal twin brother, Prince Castiel.
He was lying to the whole world, pretending to be his sister, and his lie would soon be known—on the wedding night. Oh, the dreaded wedding night. Castiel swallowed, trying to calm his slight shaking, as Dean’s thumb slid over his own. The Winchester King was always calming him; he was the sweetest and kindest person in the world, and here he was, marrying him under the guise of being his twin sister.
This would all be fixed if his sister were to come through the door.
Castiel heard the door open, which made him turn slightly to see his brother Michael come in. His brother gave him a concerned look before sitting down, carefully avoiding eye contact out of shame. She wasn’t here. They couldn’t find her.
“Cassandra?” Dean spoke as Castiel turned back to him.
“I—I...What?” He asked.
“The priest asked if you do.” The Winchester King chuckled, reaching up to press Castiel's black wig of hair behind his ear. He swallowed.
Now, you’re wondering how I got myself into this mess. Maybe we should go back to the beginning.
“I…” Castiel looked towards the priest and then back at Dean.
__________________________________________________________________________
A week earlier:
This all started because his family lost the war—not just any war. Castiel’s family was one of the three main kingdoms that reigned: the Kingdom of Zephyrus, owned by the Novaks; the Kingdom of Apollo, owned by the Winchesters; and the Kingdom of Hyacinth, owned by the Leahys. The war was his father’s idea: he attacked the third kingdom without warning, captured it, and made it part of his own, leaving only the Novaks and the Winchesters.
It was an obvious choice to attack the Novaks first, since they had taken Hyacinth with one blow. Though his father attacked with strength, there was no beating the Kingdom of Apollo, which attacked with cunning and smarts. The war was won swiftly. It wasn’t until the three greatest war generals of the Novaks were marched to the kingdom’s front gates as hostages that their king surrendered.
He remembered this day most clearly: it was pouring rain outside as King Dean Winchester rode his horse toward the castle. The generals walked in front of him, their hands bound as they struggled through the thick mud. Castiel’s father walked out from the front of the castle into view of his children, who watched from the high windows. The Winchester King stopped the horse as the men stood before their king. King Chuck took in his men before he knelt in the mud and bowed to Dean. His whole body was covered in mud as he sank, pressing himself flat into the ground.
“What’s father doing?” His sister asked as Michael sighed.
“Surrendering,” His brother said. “...He’s trying to get our lives spared.” Castiel turned to him in surprise.
“Our lives are at risk?!” Cassandra screeched.
“We didn’t spare the Leahys,” Michael explained. “You might be fine, but we killed the men of the Leahy kingdom.” Castiel flinched at this.
“Why on earth—” His sister gasped.
“You can’t run a kingdom without royal male blood,” His brother spoke.
“What about Princess Eileen and her mother?” Cassandra asked, upset. Moving away from the window, she turned to Castiel. That was one of her friends.
“They were spared. Of course, our father is not a barbarian who kills women.” Michael said, as Castiel reached a hand up to his neck, imagining a noose wrapping around it. Would the Winchesters kill him and his brother, the last of the Novak line?
“I can only thank heaven she’s okay.” His sister breathed.
He froze when he saw his father sit up and point to the window where they were. He froze again when he noticed King Dean’s eyes slowly move to meet his own. They looked at each other as though they could see into each other’s souls. Castiel felt a cold shiver run down his spine as King Dean spoke to the king. The Winchester King eyed him before rearing his horse; then, turning, he rode away quickly, leaving the men and his father in the mud.
His father slowly stood as the other soldiers helped the bound men. His father then returned inside as his adult children bolted downstairs to hear what happened. He glanced at his wife and his children.
“He will spare us,” Chuck said. “In fact, he will even let us keep our kingdom if I agree to pass it to Michael now and he signs the peace treaty.”
“I’m the new king?” His brother whispered, making his father nod.
“He...doesn’t believe I’m fit to rule.” The former king began, taking a seat. The mud squished into the chair.
“That’s it?” Michael asked.
“...That and he wants to marry Cassandra.” His father breathed, as if the request were nothing. “We got off scot-free.”
“What?!” Cassandra snapped, slamming her hands on the railing of the stairs. “I will not!”
“Yes, you will.” Chuck scoffed at her defiance.
“Cassie.” He tried, but she turned to him in tears.
“I will NOT marry anyone I do not love!” His sister hissed.
“You’re in love with someone new every week. Who is it this week? The stable boy?” His father snapped. “Don’t speak of a subject you know nothing about. You will marry Dean Winchester, and that’s final. He’s coming back tomorrow to start the courting—” Cassandra turned and ran upstairs with a sob as Castiel and Michael watched her go. The fate of women, to be married off against their will, was cruel. Seeing his sister cry was painful, but they knew they had no choice.
___________________________________________________________________________
“Get your sister, Castiel,” He mocked, recalling his father’s words as he went to fetch his sister from her room. “She needs to prepare to meet her betrothed, and she can’t cry about the stable boy forever.”
He frowned noticeably, rolling his eyes at his twin sister’s current fixation. She had a habit of falling for the help, which only resulted in her being locked inside the castle walls after every attempted rebellion. He could count many times her guard had to throw her over his shoulder and toss her into her bed like a dead weight, kicking and screaming the whole way. Castiel stopped in front of her door, knocking on it with his knuckles.
“Cassandra. Come on. It’s time.” Castiel called, unimpressed. He expected her to burst out of the room like hellfire, but he was met with silence. He eyed his surroundings, noting how quiet it was. “...Wasn’t there supposed to be a guard out here?” He looked around lazily before he sighed, knocking harder. Castiel reached for the knob with an annoyed groan. “You'd better be dressed!” He slowly pushed the door open, peering in. Nothing seemed out of place. Except…for his sister. “Cassie?”
Castiel noticed a note pinned with a dagger to the bedpost. He walked over, cursing to himself as he took the note.
Dear Family,
I know you expect me to be able to perform my duty as the only princess by marrying to unify the kingdom. However, I have to follow my heart. I fooled you all to think I had fallen for the stable boy. It wasn't.
Fuck you ♡,
Cassie
P.S. It actually was the knight who guarded my room, dumbasses.
She drew a crude little stick figure flipping them off, which made his eye twitch.
“CASSIE!” Castiel choked, starting to look over the room in a panic. He was beginning to tear the room apart when his older brother stopped his rampage. Walking through the hall, it wasn’t hard to miss the glass shattering and furniture being knocked over.
“Cas. Stop. What’s wrong?” Michael spoke, looking over the mess with concern as the prince whimpered, holding out the note. He quietly read it, a frown forming on his face. His brother rubbed his chin, considering the note before speaking. “...Well, that’s not good.”
“No shit,” Castiel panicked. “You understand we lost the war?” His brother glanced at him. “The Winchesters won. The only reason we are all still here is that we surrendered!” The prince grabbed his shoulders, shaking them violently. Michael nodded in understanding. “Without Cassandra, we have nothing to bargain!” His brother just watched him curiously. “They have everything! We have nothing but Cassandra!”
“Hm,” Michael frowned in thought, eyeing him.
“We have to tell Mom and Dad,” The prince stated. “Maybe they can think of something else.” He panted as his brother walked around him. “...What?”
“You know, for fraternal twins, you and Cassie look almost identical,” Michael mentioned as Castiel raised an eyebrow.
“What exactly are you implying?” Castiel crossed his arms.
“When we were little, you guys would switch places,” His brother stated. “Especially since Cassie always liked to keep her hair short. You would never tell us if we were right or not.”
“Yes, when we were children,” The prince scoffed, annoyed. “Not when she grew boobs, and I got facial hair.”
“Please, she uses a corset to make anything out of her boobs.” Michael scoffed as he walked to Cassie’s closet, grabbing a dress. Holding it out to Castiel, who shied away from the dress, his brother added, “I think it could work.”
“What are you saying?!” The prince knocked his hand down.
“Look, I just need you to stall for a couple of days,” Michael breathed.
“WHAT?!” He growled, pissed.
“He’s going to be staying here anyway! Just entertain him for an hour until I can recover Cassie. Then we can swap you out before anyone notices,” His brother explained as Castiel blinked, taken aback. Michael went to the door and rang the bell for the staff to come.
“No fucking way,” He scoffed.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The prince stared at his delicate frame in the mirror as the maids finished forcing the corset so tight that it hurt to breathe. Even Castiel’s flat-chested form was defined with a good corset. He was beautiful, he admitted. The restricted breathing was something he would have to get used to; the corset wasn’t too tight, but he wasn’t used to this kind of garment. The prince slid his hand down his stomach. He was a bit muscular for a woman, but with makeup and a wig, he was almost more of a beauty than his sister. He had never worn women’s clothes before, and it wasn’t that he longed to be a woman. He just didn’t mind it as much as he thought. If given the chance, he would wear it again, though he doubted that after today he would have to.
“You’re gorgeous,” Michael said, snapping him out of his thoughts, and frowned.
“Eat me,” Castiel snapped, annoyed, as he turned back to the mirror. “Did you find her?”
“Not yet,” His brother stated. “But I will find her, I promise.” The prince sighed, annoyed, holding himself as Michael cleared his throat. “Look, no one will find out but us. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be able to tell you apart. I barely could, and I’m in on it. You’re her spitting image.” Castiel glanced at himself again before sighing and moving to grab a shot of liquor. “He’s here, by the way, in the parlor.” The prince spat out the liquor all over the mirror, making his brother wince.
“Why are you just telling me?!” Castiel snapped.
“You’re ready, what’s the big deal?” Michael asked.
“I needed to mentally prepare—” The prince gasped.
“Cassie!” The Queen called, making their brother and Castiel immediately fall silent as she entered the room. “You’re gorgeous! I can’t believe it! My baby girl! A woman!” Their mother came and cupped his face like she always did, pressing her forehead to Castiel’s. The prince closed his eyes, comforting himself with her before she pulled back. “Where’s your brother?”
“Um…” They both choked out.
“I asked him to bring something to Eileen for me,” The prince spoke in his prettiest, soft voice, which made his mother frown slightly. Michael sighed in relief, moving to grab the shot Castiel never finished. They were both going to need a drink after this.
“Oh, honey, did you hurt your throat last night when you cried? I told you ugly crying was going to bite you in the butt. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were a man.” His brother choked, spitting out the liquor and coughing roughly. Their mother turned to him as the prince took the opportunity not to laugh. “I’ll get you tea to soothe your throat.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Castiel composed himself when she turned back to him.
“Come now, you must not keep your betrothed waiting.” She took the prince’s hand and led him downstairs as he shot Michael a dirty look, silently urging him to find his sister.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
As a lady, he was supposed to keep his eyes down, but he couldn’t help but keep his eyes up as he entered the parlor. Dean and his father soon bowed their heads slightly in respect toward the young lady. The prince bowed back out of habit, but quickly recovered by incorporating it into his curtsy.
“Lady Cassandra, I assume?” The king spoke as Castiel nodded, staring into his beautiful green eyes.
Yes, even as a man, the prince could admit the Winchester king was charmingly handsome: his chiseled chin and the stubble that defined it.
The prince's eyes searched Dean Winchester’s, who also seemed to be taking him in. A small smile formed on the king's face before he glanced down shyly.
“I am sorry we were late, my lord,” The queen spoke. “I am afraid my daughter might have caught something; her voice is a little hoarse. Don’t worry, the tea should be enough to help her keep you company.”
“It’s quite all right,” Dean nodded with care.
“Katherine,” Chuck spoke, moving toward her. “We should allow them to mingle.”
“Quite right.” Katherine bowed her head and curtsied respectfully before leaving them alone in the room. The prince’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he hoped the dress covered most of it.
“Would you like to sit?” The king asked as Castiel nodded, plopping down on the chair rather unladylike. The prince corrected himself when he realized his mistake. Dean didn’t comment, taking a seat across from him. They sat in silence for a bit, the king just watching him curiously. He eyed the tea before he moved to pour it himself. That’s what his sister did; her responsibility was always to pour the hot water for the tea and serve it.
“Do you take sugar with your tea?” The prince asked as Dean eyed him.
“Two,” The king breathed. The prince pulled his eyes away from him to focus on the tea. Dean was a muscular man, taller than him by a couple of inches, which made Castiel feel small near him. The prince offered him the tea after adding his sugar. “...the weight of us to bring peace to the three kingdoms,” The prince glanced up.
“Three?” The prince spoke. “...but...”
“My brother Sam is engaged to Princess Eileen,” The king stated. “Their first goal is to bring back the kingdom your father decided to try to destroy. In a couple of years, they should have a new heir, and the kingdom will be restored.”
“How...are they holding up?” Castiel asked.
“Princess Eileen is holding up well, but to have her brothers and father yanked from this world is cruel,” Dean breathed, sitting back. “She is adjusting to the change; my brother, I have been told, is a good shoulder to cry on.”
“...” The prince said nothing.
“Do you agree with what your father did?” The king asked, making him glance up in surprise.
“N-No, absolutely not.” The prince wasn’t lying. Though he wasn’t close to Princess Eileen like His sister was, he did know the princes; they came to the castle and played on the furniture they sat on. “We...we were devastated when we woke up to find out my father had attacked their kingdom...Michael and I tried to stop him, but...he said it was for the good of the kingdom, and...” The prince felt tears in his eyes as Dean eyed him. The prince wasn’t one to cry, but the guilt hit him.
“...Do you know how I got my throne?” The king asked curiously. Castiel wiped the tears from his eyes, shaking his head.
“Your father passed,” Castiel spoke. “You were thirteen years old when you became King.”
“Do you know how he died?” Dean tilted his head softly as the prince shook his head. “...I killed him.” Castiel sucked in air as Dean eyed his reaction. They sat in silence for a moment before continuing. “He was known as the mad king. Do you know why he was known as the mad king?”
“No.” The prince shook his head. “...We...we were never allowed to speak his name for fear we would become mad too.” The room felt...off just mentioning him.
“He would hear whispers from what we believed to be angels,” The king spoke, standing and moving toward the window. Castiel watched Dean glance out into the garden.
“What...did they whisper?” Castiel asked, his heart thumping in his chest.
“Things no angel would say. They wanted to conquer and take the kingdoms by force,” The king explained. “...For the sake of the three kingdoms' safety, it was my duty as the next in line for the throne to handle it. Unfortunately, I had no choice...” Dean looked down, as if the rest of the sentence hurt to get out. He cleared his throat, turning to him. “Do you know why I spared your father?”
“...No,” The prince whispered.
“Do you think that this falls under the same circumstances?” The king asked.
“...Yes, but...my father’s not mad,” Castiel explained.
“Sounds quite mad to turn on peaceful kingdoms,” Dean explained, almost circling him. “...Don’t you agree?”
“...” The prince said nothing, his mouth opening and closing. “...Yes.”
“Should I have?” The king spoke, making Castiel glance up in surprise.
“W-What?” The prince choked, his voice a bit deeper than he intended.
“Spared your father?” Dean asked. The prince gripped his dress with white knuckles. “Should I have spared your brother Michael?”
“Michael?” Castiel sucked in the air, growing more and more furious at this king. “He didn’t want this as much as the rest of us!”
“He put loyalty to his father before the kingdoms. A king who would choose loyalty to a mad king over his people sounds like no king to me,” The king continued to walk around him. “And what of your brother, Castiel?”
“What about him!” The prince stood angrily, his fists clenched.
“Should he not have acted as well?” Dean was keeping his cool; Castiel, however, was a mess of rage.
“What would you have us do!” Castiel moved to him, getting in his face, stopping his circling. “Kill him too! Sounds quite mad to just kill your father, don’t you agree!” The prince aimed low, aimed dirty, and aimed to hurt the king with a sore spot...but Dean eyed him, almost amused. Giving him a smirk, the king chuckled.
“ Quite mad,” The king agreed. Castiel stood there panting in blinding rage, with Dean looking so FUCKING smug. The prince couldn’t stop himself from raising a fist and attempting to punch the king. He might be dressed like a lady, but an insult is an insult.
Castiel didn’t expect the king to have been ready for it, nor did he expect this. Grabbing his wrist, Dean twisted and pinned him roughly against the wall. The prince let out a moan in surprise as the king pressed against him from behind, pinning him. Castiel panted roughly feeling Dean’s breathing against his neck.
The king’s free hand slowly slid up his side, starting mid-thigh and moving up the outside of his dress. The prince’s breath hitched, and Dean watched his reaction. Castiel should have...had one besides what he did. The prince closed his eyes to the touch, contentedly submitting to him. The king smirked to himself, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of his neck.
The king's soft bite into Castiel's flesh drew an involuntary moan from the latter. The prince reached up, gripping the king's hair, and pressed back into him. The movement caused Castiel to involuntarily roll his hips against Dean's growing hardness, prompting a breathy moan from Dean. The king nipped at the exposed skin where the prince had turned his head away, and his hand moved from Castiel's hands pinned to the wall to lightly grip his throat. The prince panted loudly and moaned in involuntary pleasure under the touch. Dean's free hand slid beneath Cassandra's dress, finding and gripping the flesh beneath the skirt.
Feeling the king’s hand grip his inner thigh, Castiel snapped out of his lust. Yanking himself away from Dean, the prince turned to face him in fear, pressing his back against the wall. The king panted but did nothing to touch him again. They stared at each other in silence, hearing their breaths, matching in intensity.
“...I-I should turn in,” Castiel barely whispered, trying to wrap his head around what just happened.
“Goodnight, my lady.” Dean bowed softly. The prince paused expectantly, almost as though he expected him to take and kiss him again.
Castiel covered his mouth, leaving without a curtsy. It was very unladylike of him not to be respectful; however, the prince at that moment didn’t care. Castiel bolted up to his room—not Cassandra’s, but his. Slamming the door, he locked it before leaning back and sliding down it. It was hard in a dress, but plopping down rather improperly seemed easier. His heart was racing as he pulled up his dress, roughly pulling at the fabric underneath to slide his hand down his pants. He was hard. So fucking hard. He pulled his hand out and licked at his palm before roughly starting to stroke his cock. He wanted his release. No. Needed.
When the prince came, his whole body shuddered, and he could only pull his hand away tiredly. Castiel wiped the cum on his dress as he sat there in post-coital clarity.
What was that?
Castiel remembered how good it felt for the king’s hands to be on him. How had he gone from wanting to punch the guy one minute to wanting him to touch him like that? The prince shuddered as he reached a hand up to his throat, touching what he could only assume was a mark Dean had left on him in lust.
What were you thinking, Cas?
He panted, glancing at himself in the mirror across from him—a mess of what was supposed to be a girl. He was a MAN! What the hell was he doing letting another man touch him like that? He...he was just playing the part! That’s it! For his sister! He was acting...But...what were all those confusing thoughts and actions...
If Dean had continued, he would have felt that Castiel wasn’t the only one who was hard. His cover would have been blown; he would have been the family embarrassment. God knows what he would have done if the truth had been exposed. The prince sighed, trying to calm himself down. He moved his hands into his hair, yanking off the long black hair from his head.
Forget what could have happened; he made himself look…promiscuous to the king. A lady never would have let him touch her like that. No one wanted a lady who would be…so open. Not only did he soil whatever reputation his sister had, but he also knew Dean was going to call off the wedding.
“...Fuck,” Castiel breathed in despair, gripping his hair with his face buried in his knees.
A knock on the door made the prince panic.
“J-Just a second!” Castiel called in his best female voice as he scrambled for the wig, but His brother’s voice made him stop fixing himself.
“It’s just the maids and me,” Michael reassured. The prince opened the door as he and a couple of maids, ready to help him out of the dress, moved into the room. “Well, how did it go?”
“I-...I’m sorry, I fucked up,” Castiel confessed, tossing his wig onto the floor. Not wanting to go into it, he added, “I think he’s going to call off the engagement.” His brother looked confused, laughing softly.
“Good one,” Michael spoke, taking a seat when the prince was happily freed from the dress bindings.
“I’m serious, Michael. I…It just didn’t work—” Castiel started, but his brother laughed again. “I’m serious.” Michael sighed affectionately.
“Then why has he agreed to the match?” His brother asked. The prince turned in surprise, accidentally tightening the corset in the process, while the maid fiddled with it. Castiel hadn’t realized he was almost in pain from the tightness as the maid quickly moved to pull it loose again.
“He…wants to marry me?” The prince whispered.
“Cassandra, but yes,” Michael waved him off. The prince looked down. His heart was pounding—in relief, no doubt, based on how wrong that could have gone.
“I’m going to see him again?” Castiel glanced up.
“Seeing as we can’t find Cassandra,” His brother cleared his throat. “I am going to ask you to keep this up until we do.”
“You said—” The prince breathed nervously. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, especially with what happened.
“I just need a day more, maybe two,” Michael begged, as Castiel stepped out of the dress. He watched the maids reach for his normal clothes, but he shook his head.
“I would like to just head to bed,” Castiel spoke. “Please put on my pajamas.” The maids nodded, taking out his pajamas. “Please wash the dress and return it to my sister’s room.” The prince allowed them to dress him.
“Come on, Cas. He just needs to be distracted until the wedding at the end of the week,” His brother spoke. Castiel held himself, but nodded.
“Fine, you have until the end of the week,” The prince whispered as Michael beamed happily.
“I knew I could count on you,” His brother said. The maids curtsied and left the room with the dress, and Michael followed after them. “Get some rest; you have another meeting with him tomorrow.”
Castiel didn’t look at him as Michael closed the door behind him. The prince slowly moved to bed and lay down in the covers. Lying in bed, his poor attempt to sleep only resulted in tossing and turning. His mind was swimming with thoughts of him, and the feeling of him pressed back against him. He could still feel Dean's hardening cock pressing against his ass, the breathy moan the man let out against his ear.
Castiel didn’t know when he started to touch himself deep in thought, but his toes curled, and his chest was breathing roughly. His hand in his mouth kept his moans down. The prince was rolling and rocking his hips up slowly into his own hand. He came with a harsh shudder; his whole body sighed in relief as it relaxed into the sheets. The prince pulled his hand out of his pants, looking at his cum-covered hand.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Castiel mumbled softly, reaching for a cloth to clean his hands before covering his eyes with the back of his hand and catching his breath. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He knew being horny wasn’t wrong...but why was he thinking of the king? “I’m just…getting too caught up with pretending to be Cassandra,” The prince breathed, pulling his hands away and curling into his sheets. “...A prince has no reason to think such thoughts with a king,” The prince mumbled to himself as he started to doze after a pleasing orgasm. His last thought left him as he drifted to sleep.
The faster he slept, the faster tomorrow would come.