The Autobiography of the Dark Prince

by Dan Wingreen

  Elias turned to his left, following the Dark Prince's eyes. Coming towards them from the direction of the buffet tables, flanked by three nondescript men wearing the garish yellow and blue robes of the Royal Advisers, was a slightly sullen looking Crown Prince. His robes were cut similarly to Elias's and the Dark Prince's, with a few subtle differences, such as the delicate embroidery on the cuffs and a collar which, much to Elias's envy, ended much further below the bottom of his jawline. Like Elias's and the other prince's, they were also green; a shade somewhere between the hunter green of the scholar's and the pale green of the royal's. They did complement each other, like the Dark Prince had said, but Elias had the sneaking suspicion his robes matched the Dark Prince's more than the Crown Prince's.

  Without sparing a glance for Elias—and after being subtly prevented from veering off in a completely different direction no less than three times by one of the advisers—the Crown Prince approached the Dark Prince and fixed him with what was quite possibly the least genuine smile in the entire history of human facial expression. And possibly several other species as well.

  "Welcome to the ball, Highness," the Crown Prince said reluctantly. Then, after a poke from the nearest adviser, ground out, "I'm so glad you could make it."

  Elias fought the urge to sigh and correct his atrocious manners. He was here to try and change the open disdain the Crown Prince was showing the Dark Prince, not chastise him like a child in front of the other royal.

  "Thank you, Your Highness," the Dark Prince said with a short bow and a smile that teetered on the edge of becoming a smirk.

  "You are enjoying yourself, I hope?" the Crown Prince asked after another poke.

  "Oh, yes. Immensely. Your royal ballroom is quite impressive," he said in a condescending tone which suggested he'd seen better, but was amused by the attempt to match the greater splendors which could be found elsewhere.

  Elias frowned. Why is he provoking him?

  "Although I must say I am slightly confused. Isn't the coming of age ceremony usually held before the birthday ball, according to your customs?"

  The Crown Prince's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, only to hesitate at yet another jab. He scowled, though whether at the other prince or the incessant poking Elias couldn't tell, then said with strained politeness, "I'm afraid you must have been misinformed. My coming of age ceremony was six years ago."

  "Oh?" The Dark Prince raised an eyebrow. He made a point of glancing at the three men standing behind the Crown Prince. "Then I'm surprised to see you still have chaperones. Don't they usually stop accompanying a young lord or lady to soirees like this once they reach their majority?"

  The corner of the Crown Prince's eye twitched.

  "We are His Royal Highness's loyal advisers," one of the advisers—a tall, thin man with short auburn hair named Bertrand, if Elias remembered correctly—said quickly as the other two glanced nervously at their prince. "It is our duty and pleasure to share our counsel with His Highness regardless of the setting or hour."

  Which, of course, roughly translated into "he can't be trusted on his own around such important guests, as you can plainly see by the way we're all expecting him to start throwing punches at you any second now" and they all knew it.

  "Ah." Somehow the Dark Prince managed to compress into that one syllable both his disdain for a prince who needed to be handled like a child who had just debuted in society, and his admiration for a servant who had done his best to save his master from himself even though it was an effort doomed to failure. It was, Elias had to admit, rather impressive.

  He also wasn't the only one to pick up on its full meaning.

  The Crown Prince glowered. "If you have something to—"

  The look of resigned horror on the faces of the advisers melted into relief when the Dark Prince interrupted their heir.

  "Oh, but I'm terribly sorry, Highness, you must, of course, think me rude for not introducing my companion, but I was under the impression that you two were already acquainted?"

  The Crown Prince blinked, apparently forgetting to defend his honor at the out of nowhere comment. He was poked again, and closed his mouth before turning to Elias, apparently deciding to grasp at the excuse to ignore the Dark Prince. Despite his growing suspicion towards the Dark Prince, Elias still raised an amused eyebrow at the look of bewilderment on the Crown Prince's face. It took him almost a full ten seconds to realize who he was looking at.

  "I…" The Crown Prince's eyes widened. "Elias!"

  The Prince's face lit up and Elias's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. Thankfully, all three advisers subtly—and not so subtly in the case of the one who grabbed the back of his collar—held the Prince back from flinging himself at Elias and wrapping him in a hug.

  "Let go of me!" He snapped as he shook off their hands. Thankfully, he seemed able to restrain himself this time. He spared them a glare then turned back to Elias. "I can't believe you're here!" He grinned happily. "I almost didn't recognize you. Look at your hair! And, and your glasses. And you dressed up, too! I didn't even think you owned dress robes."

  "He does now," the Dark Prince drawled.

  The Crown Prince started, almost like he forgot the other prince was there, then shot him a glare which had at least two of the advisers wincing. "I wasn't talking to you."

  He very pointedly turned back to Elias. "I can't believe you're here," he said again. His voice was softer this time, now that the surprise had worn off somewhat. "What made you decide to come?"

  "Because he wanted to, of course." The Dark Prince cut in before Elias could even open his mouth. "Apparently our dear Elias isn't as averse to balls as he'd like us to believe."

  Elias frowned internally, both at the idea that he had any desire to attend a ball, and at the fact the Dark Prince was completely sabotaging their plan.

  He isn't even trying to take advantage of this.

  "Really?" The Crown Prince had apparently temporarily forgotten that he wanted nothing to do with the Dark Prince and gave the other royal a wide-eyed grin before turning his newfound delight back on Elias. "I knew I'd wear you down one of these days!"

  Elias fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Highness, I assure you—"

  "Your Highness." Bertrand had leaned over and was murmuring in the Crown Prince's ear just loud enough to be overheard. "We need to move on."

  The grin evaporated from the Crown Prince's face and was replaced with a petulant scowl. "What? No, I refuse. I'm talking to Elias now."

  "Your Highness, you're neglecting your other guests," another adviser said.

  "I don't care."

  "Your father would," the third one said calmly.

  The Crown Prince glared at each one of them in turn, which had about as much of an effect as a glare from the heir usually did. "Father would also sack you if I told him to."

  "Of course, Your Highness." Bertrand agreed with the air of someone who had heard similar threats dozens of times before. "But until he does, it is still our responsibility to guide you, and there is still a royal decree which says you have to listen to our—"

  "Fine!" The Crown Prince threw up his hands in a display of childish pique the nobles surrounding them were polite enough to ignore. "But I hate each and every one of you."

  "It is our pleasure to serve His Highness regardless of his personal feelings towards us," Bertrand said. All three advisers bowed as one.

  The Crown Prince looked like he wanted to tear his hair out.

  The Dark Prince looked like he was barely keeping himself from laughing.

  "Elias." The Crown Prince winced as one of the—still bowing—advisers poked him again, then reluctantly added, "And Your Highness, I very much hope you enjoy the rest of the party. It would be my pleasure to continue our conversation later on in the evening."

  He sounded like he was reciting something he once read in a particularly boring book, but all three advisers came up from their bow looking pleased.

 
"Highness," Bertrand said as they all bowed slightly towards the Dark Prince. "Scholar." They bowed—much less deeply—to Elias. "Good evening."

  They all subtly grabbed hold of the Crown Prince and gently guided him away. The Crown Prince, for his part, seemed to trust them to lead him because he refused to take his eyes off Elias until they stopped at another group of nobles.

  "That was thoroughly unpalatable and tiresome," the Dark Prince said, watching the other prince leave. He turned back to Elias and grinned. "Let's go eat."

  "Highness—"

  The Prince grabbed Elias's wrist before he could get more than the single word out and dragged him through the crowd towards the buffet tables.

  Elias scowled, debated the merits of trying to free himself against the distaste he'd no doubt feel for dealing with the scene that would no doubt ensue, and decided to just follow the Prince. They garnered several scandalized and disgusted looks from the nobles they passed, but Elias was quick to note how fast those were replaced with looks of barely concealed fear when they saw just who it was that was being so uncouth as to drag another man through a formal ball. By the time they reached the buffet area, Elias's suspicions had hardened into certainty.

  "You lied to me."

  The Dark Prince raised an eyebrow and let go of Elias's wrist just before he meant to yank it away. "Oh?"

  "These nobles are terrified of you. There is no possible way enough of them could gather the courage to publicly cut you, no matter what opinion the Crown Prince holds of you. An opinion which, I might add, you showed absolutely no interest in changing despite that being the reason you lured me to this…festivity." The way he said the word could have curdled milk. "Hence, you lied."

  To Elias's complete and utter lack of surprise, the Dark Prince grinned. "Well I am a Dark Prince, as you'll recall. And I may have lied about the reason, but I was very truthful about the desperation."

  Once again saying the word out loud seemed to cause the Prince no small amount of discomfort.

  "What does that mean?"

  Instead of answering, the Dark Prince studied Elias with an intensity that made the other man feel like a patch of particularly messy handwriting. He fought the urge to shift restlessly, and wondered why being the sole focus of all the Dark Prince's attention made his stomach clench in that incredibly disconcerting way. Although he couldn't quite decide if it was unpleasant or not…

  After what seemed a short eternity of too-still perusal, the Dark Prince shook his head. "No," he murmured, almost to himself. "I don't think I want to answer that."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it might ruin everything." He responded with overly enthusiastic crypticness.

  "What might it ruin?"

  Once again, an unidentifiable expression flashed across the Prince's face before being quickly swallowed up by an amused twist of his lips. "Didn't you just hear me? Everything."

  Elias let out a small snort that could, if one was being charitable, be called a laugh. He wondered why he wasn't furious. Surely, even though he'd been better able to tolerate the Dark Prince's personality faults, if there was even an occasion that deserved white-hot rage it was this one. As it was, he could barely work up the energy to be annoyed. He briefly considered the idea he was coming down with some kind of illness, but discarded the thought quickly. It was much more likely he was just becoming used to dealing with the Dark Prince.

  He wasn't exactly sure he wouldn't have preferred the illness.

  "You seem to be taking this rather well," the Dark Prince said, cutting into his thoughts.

  Now it was Elias's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Is there a problem with that?"

  "No, no, not at all," he answered quickly. "Just surprised, is all. I was prepared for all manner of yelling and storming out, and possibly even some sort of attempt at bodily harm."

  "Are you disappointed at the absence, Highness?" Elias asked. He was struck, yet again, with how much he enjoyed bantering with the Prince. He wondered if it would ever cease to amaze him. "If you are, I'm sure it wouldn't be much trouble to summon up a slap or two."

  The Dark Prince let out a very surprised sounding laugh. "I'm sure it wouldn't. Although, I think your hands would be put to much better use holding one of these."

  He produced a delicate, porcelain plate with a small pile of pastries on it from…somewhere, and handed it to Elias.

  "And why am I holding this?" he asked as the overly sweet smell of rich dessert assaulted his sinuses.

  "One thing I've noticed your kingdom does very well is food, and these pastries are exceptionally delicious." He popped a small, round, glazed doughnut into his mouth from a similar plate that was also produced from some indiscernible location.

  "Besides," he said as he finished swallowing. "We still need to fatten you up."

  It may have been because he was trained to expect certain things from his near-lifelong association with a different prince, but he was absurdly grateful the Dark Prince waited until he was finished eating before speaking.

  "I fail to see why you're being so insistent about that." Elias paused. "Unless you're planning on eating me?"

  The Prince's eyes widened slightly, taking on an odd gleam. Elias had meant it as a joke, but he was getting the impression he might have been less than successful in portraying it as such.

  "You know," the Prince said, recovering quickly. "If you were anyone else, I would assume that was a come-on."

  Elias frowned. How is asking about potential cannibalism a—

  "Oh. You thought I was making a lascivious remark?"

  His stomach churned again, and he was surprised to feel his face heat up slightly. He hoped the Prince didn't notice. The last thing he wanted right then was a comment about the way he looked when he was embarrassed. Especially because he wasn't actually embarrassed. Which just made his slightly flushed face incredibly confusing.

  Thankfully, the Prince seemed oblivious.

  "We're really going to have to work on your dirty talk," he muttered, just loud enough to be audible. Elias blinked, but before he could decide whether or not he wanted to ask why the Prince thought that at all necessary, he continued. "Far be it from me to suggest that something so base pass through your lips. I really don't know what I was thinking."

  The look on his face suggested he knew very well what he was thinking, but Elias was sure he didn't want to know.

  "Ah."

  There was a small, awkward silence that was broken a minute later by the Prince gesturing to Elias's plate and saying, "You haven't eaten anything."

  Elias raised an eyebrow, inordinately grateful the conversation was back in more familiar territory. "I still haven't gotten an answer to my question."

  The Dark Prince sighed. "I'm insistent because you're unhealthy."

  "I've been doing perfectly fine."

  "Hmm," the Prince said, clearly skeptical. "Perhaps day-to-day, but you are underweight and frail and completely ill-equipped to deal with any sudden hardships, like civil wars or even a long journey."

  Elias scowled and was about to ask, if the Prince found him so weak and frail, why he was attracted to him, but he was seized by an uncharacteristic nervousness. Maybe he no longer was? Elias's stomach clenched, hard.

  Perhaps he has a point about needing to eat more.

  "Then it's a good thing I don't plan on going on any long journeys to areas of civil unrest."

  With that, he took a pastry from the top of the pile and popped it into his mouth.

  It was quite delicious.

  "I told you," the Prince said knowingly. Elias ignored him and ate another. The Prince placed a few of his doughnuts on Elias's plate. He raised an eyebrow, and the Prince smirked. "As good as you look in those robes, I don't want you to waste away to nothing right in front of me."

  The Dark Prince smiled as Elias ate one of them.

  His stomach relaxed.

  It's working already. Elias set himself to enthusiastically devouring everything on his pla
te.

  Chapter 16

  To Elias's immense surprise, he found he was, against all reasonable odds, actually enjoying his evening. All of his previous experiences with balls and formal court functions had more or less gone the same way; the Crown Prince would invite him, greet him when he showed up, and then promptly abandon him to fend for himself while the Prince was dragged off to deal with the usual responsibilities the heir faced at public gatherings. Not that Elias ever blamed the Prince, he understood, and even approved, of the Crown Prince doing his princely duties. It just didn't change the fact that being cast adrift in the middle of a sea of nobility was simultaneously the most frustrating and boring thing Elias had ever been subjected to. Yet, all this time, all he apparently needed to enjoy himself was to have somebody else drifting along with him.

  And mouthwatering desserts, of course.

  Although maybe it was more the desserts and the specific somebody who was with him, because he was pretty sure that he wouldn't find better ball company than the Dark Prince.

  "And that is the Lady DuPont," he murmured into Elias's ear as he discreetly pointed to a middle-aged woman talking with a group of younger women who seemed somewhat uncomfortable. "As rumor has it, she regularly slips away to the stables in the middle of the night, only to return an hour later disheveled and covered in hay. It's quite the scandal among those who believe the whispers."

  Elias raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How is a noblewoman sneaking off to the stables to tryst with a stable hand even remotely scandalous?" From what he understood, trysting with the stable hands was a pastime of choice with the nobility. Granted, his source was court gossip and the Crown Prince, but he rather thought the fact they had twelve stable hands to tend to the three horses in the royal stables gave it the weight of truth. Or at least probability.

  "Ah, but therein lies the shameful secret," the Prince said with a wink. "It is said that she's been seen entering the stables only in the darkest hours of the night, long after all the stable hands have retired to their quarters. There is only one way in and one way out of the stables, and yet the entire time she's there no one can be seen entering, and no one can be seen leaving after she departs clad in hay and walking rather tenderly."