An a/u fic based on the Korean manwha Goong (Princess Hours). Japan's crown prince is finally ready to assume the throne after his parents' deaths several years prior, but there's one slight problem, he needs a wife. Step in commoner Usagi Tsukino.

Ch.1

"Marry me..." he said curtly, leaning aloofly against the bark of a winter-hardened cherry blossom tree. They were in the royal gardens, which in spring would be littered with soft pink petals and the laughter of court ladies but now in the early onset of winter was cold, wet, and abandoned. Only the two, once lovers occupied the dead space.

"No," she replied just as bluntly, "You know I can't." She looked away, not wanting to see his face, and the cold, cutting wind whisked her long, luxurious, raven hair from her face. Porcelain skin with the lightest of blushes, long, curled black eyelashes, and soft coral lips; her face remained stoic.

He chuckled, almost anticipating the rejection if it were not for the small glimmer of hope that she would accept. "I thought as much. You're too stubborn and wild to marry a prim and proper prince." He studied her frame one last time, embedding that one memory of her into his heart. Intuitively, she buried her chin into her cream cashmere scarf and pulled her matching fleece trench coat tighter around her chest. Silence enveloped them once again before she spun around on the stone walkway and disappeared into the palace.

Goodbyes were never necessary for those two; they could not avoid each other if they tried. School, the riding stables, coffee shops, anywhere and everywhere, they would catch each others' eyes for just a moment before parting ways. The secret romance between the daughter of a prominent politician and the crown prince was not well kept though. Despite their efforts to maintain their facade as just classmates and acquaintances, those who saw the two new of their special kinship. But now, it would never be the same.

"Rei," he whispered into the wind, "What do I do now?"

Chief Overseer of Royal Affairs and Personal Secretary to His Highness, otherwise known as Motoki Furuhata, eagerly rushed into the prince's bed chambers. Noisily slamming the gilded doors open, he was, to his disappointment, greeted with the pitiful sight of the solemn prince sulking in his favorite leather chair.

"Oh come on! I expected to barge into some heavy lip locking, and I find this. Mamoru, what's wrong with you?"

Lifting an eyebrow, the prince rose approaching his longtime friend and lackey. Confronting him square in the face, he retorted, "Shut it, okay. This is not the time to joke around, and you know it. She broke up with me, and now I'm girlfriend-less and fiancee-less." He paced back and forth for a minute before collapsing back into the chair. "God," he sighed burying his head in his hands, "What am I going to do now? This stupid god-forsaken law. Why does a prince need to marry before becoming emperor? It's completely irrelevant!"

"I know, I know,"Motoki replied, taking a seat on the chair's arm and placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "But you know how the prime minister is. He'll do anything to prevent you from becoming emperor and continuing the monarchy, even if it means digging up stupid rules and regulations. But do not fret my man, I have a solution."

Mamoru perked his ears and raised his head up to look at his friend. "You mean, you can get Congress to abolish the law?"

"Erm...not exactly." he replied sheepishly

"Change it?" the future ruler asked impatiently.

"Um, still no."

"Well, how can you possible make this better then?"

"Here," Motoki replied thrusting a manila folder in his face, "It's the next best thing."

Mamoru eagerly tore open the folder and spilled its contents onto the nearby coffee table. There were pictures, many many pictures, official documents, and transcripts among other articles of information. The dumbfounded prince turned his questioning gaze back at his adviser, who was running his hands through his sandy blond hair. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Motoki, in response, pulled up a picture. "Usagi Tsukino. Birth date, June 30, 1992. Senior at Juuban Preparatory Academy..."

The still confused prince sifted through the photos. He guessed her height at a modest 5'4 feet, with her long, golden hair extending well bellow her waist. Too bad it's tied up in those ridiculous pigtails he thought. She was in his class, but he rarely saw her. Pulling up a transcript, it made sense. Her less than satisfactory grades had put her in Class C, while he, the diligent hardworking prince, was placed in Class A. What could this dimwitted commoner do to help him, he thought.

"...Future Empress of Japan"

"WHAT?"