by Dan Wingreen
"This," the Dark King said solemnly, "I am aware of."
Well at least now I know where the Prince gets it from.
Elias couldn't hold back a snort that threatened to turn into an embarrassing fit of laughter when father and son turned almost identical looks of bemusement towards him. Quite a feat while one was wearing a helm.
"My apologies, Highness, Dread Majesty," he said with a cough and a suppressed smile.
The Prince groaned. "You actually made him call you 'Dread Majesty'? Honestly, Father, I thought we talked about this?"
"I could rescind my gift…"
"Although Dread Majesty does have a nice, dictatorial quality now that I think about it."
This time, Elias didn't even try to hold back his laughter.
Chapter 32
It had long been an accepted axiom that, the moment one stopped desiring a thing, said thing fell directly into their lap. So it really should have been less surprising when, on the day before he was due to leave for Mournhelm with the Dark Prince—the Dark King having left by means unknown the morning after he revealed himself three days before—Elias almost literally stumbled across the last person he wished to see.
"Hello, Elias."
Elias took a step back from the hand which had reached out to steady him. The man in front of him sighed, but didn't look altogether surprised.
"Hello, Highness," Elias said warily. "I didn't expect to ever see you again."
The Crown Prince tried for a smile, but the pathetic attempt was little more than a twitch. "Yes. Well. I thought I would have more time to…" He sighed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Well. I didn't think you would be leaving with him so soon. Or at all."
Elias wondered if he was being vague in order to avoid a fight, or if he was under the impression Elias was unaware of his actions. "Of course you didn't. It would be hard to leave with one's fiancé when he's locked in the dungeons awaiting execution."
"F-fiancé?" The Prince ran shaky fingers through hair which held none of its usual golden luster. In fact, aside from the clean—if slightly wrinkled—robes he wore, the Crown Prince was a complete mess. His sallow skin and the dark circles under his eyes made Elias wonder if he'd slept at all these past days. The devastated look on his face left Elias no doubt his words had the intended effect.
He had held back from certain necessary cruelties where the Crown Prince was concerned for far too long.
"Yes," Elias said. "I accepted the Dark Prince's suit the day your father declared him innocent in the marchioness's murder. In that one regard alone, the Prince being a suspect was quite fortunate. It made me realize how much I need him in my life. Without such a stark reminder of how little there was for me in Ellington, I may have been tempted to draw my courtship out for months. Perhaps indefinitely."
That last was a lie, of course, but it was a lie that had its intended effect as the Crown Prince came face to face with the full extent of his failures. Hopefully, the lesson would not be lost, as so many others had been.
"You…" The Crown Prince pressed his lips together in an attempt to compose himself. "You might have rejected him if he wasn't…"
Elias crossed his arms over his chest. "It appears we'll never know, doesn't it?"
"But why?" The Prince begged. "He was the first suspect in a murder. Why would that drive you into his arms? Surely you can see what he is as plainly as everyone else? You've spent so much time with him; you must know what he is. You can't…please, Elias, tell me you aren't blinded by l—" The Prince grimaced, obviously unable to say the word. "Elias, you can't be that naive."
"I refuse to even mention the irony."
The Prince glared. "I'm being serious."
"As am I." Elias glared right back. "I tend to take an attempt to frame the man I love for murder extremely seriously."
And there it was, the understanding Elias had been waiting for, dawning clear as day on the Crown Prince's face. The terrible certainty of Elias's full knowledge of what he'd done, and that whatever hope he'd had of making Elias see the "truth" of the Dark Prince was well and truly lost.
"Elias…"
"Did you even know Baron Connolly was the one who killed her? Or did you not even care?"
The Prince winced, and it was with a terrible sinking feeling in his chest that Elias knew just how doomed Ellington was under his rule. "I…didn't know."
"Did you even try to find out? Or was your first thought to order the guard to find the Dark Prince guilty at any cost?"
"I…I only wanted to save you." The Prince swallowed. "No. I didn't try."
Even though Elias had no doubt about the Crown Prince's involvement, he still felt a spark of anger deep inside his chest at the confirmation. Or maybe it was just delayed anger at himself, for giving up so quickly on his theory that there might have been two parties working independently towards the same goal. If there hadn't been medical examiners who had trained themselves to spot alchemical murder, he might have never proven the Dark Prince's innocence.
"Of course not," Elias said, his voice soft and cold. "You never do. Think, that is. It's always about what you feel and what you need. It's never about Ellington, or the people you will rule, or the future you refuse to plan realistically for."
"El—"
"Did you even once stop to think about what having the son of the Dark King incarcerated and slated for execution would bring down upon Ellington?" Elias took a step forward, his eyes locked on the Crown Prince's, keeping him from looking away through sheer force of furious will. "War, Highness. And nothing less. A war of magic and monsters, which Ellington would have had no chance of winning. People would have died, Highness. All because you couldn't handle your crush falling for someone else."
The Prince flushed. "I was trying to protect you!"
"No, you were being selfish and childish, as always."
"No! You're the one who always tells me that a king should protect his subjects from harm. That's all I was trying to do. The Dark Prince is dangerous, Elias—"
"Stop!" Elias snapped. "For once in your life, stop trying to justify yourself and take responsibility for your actions. Listen to people when they're giving you advice that will save your future kingdom—"
"Why should I?" The Prince exploded, his mouth twisted with sudden rage. "Why should I listen to what anybody says? When I don't listen, I get scolded. When I do listen, I get scolded. What's the fucking point!"
They were drawing a crowd, Elias realized. People were leaning out of rooms and around corners to listen to their hallway argument, and for once he didn't care.
"When have you ever listened to anything anyone ever said to you?"
"I listened to you!" The Prince jammed his finger into Elias's chest. "You're the one who told me a king has to make decisions. You're the one who told me a king has to be willing to see things through to the end once he's made a decision, even when he starts to question himself. You're the one who told me a king has to be ruthless! And what happens when I show ruthlessness and make a decision I follow through to the end? You tell me I'm still going to be a bad king. Is that the secret, Elias? Am I doomed to be a bad king no matter what I do or who I listen to?"
"I also told you that context matters. Yes, a king needs to be ruthless, but there is a difference between ruthlessness in service to your kingdom and ruthlessness in service to yourself. You are ill-equipped in one, but now I can see you are well-practiced in the other."
"Fine! Then I'm a terrible king and I shall never be anything else. I'll abdicate the throne, leave the castle, and never think twice about inflicting myself upon this kingdom ever again." Though he started out angry, by the time he finished there were tears in his eyes and his voice had quieted into a soft plea. "Just please don't leave me. I have no idea what I would do without you."
Elias closed his eyes, suddenly weary in a way he might have associated with soldiers marching home after a long war that ended in defeat, if he was of a mind to make analogies. He had been trying more than half his
life to get the Crown Prince to take responsibility for himself, to help him become the king Ellington needed. That success might be possible was the one delusion he hadn't been able to banish with logic or reason.
Until now. Elias was so tired of fighting against the inevitable.
"Highness," Elias said, sighing. "Do whatever you want."
It was the one thing he had taken care never to say to the Crown Prince. It was his signal of surrender.
He turned and walked away, ignoring the looks people gave him and the whispers following in his wake. He ignored the way he could almost feel walls that had seen fifteen hundred years of Ellingish history frowning at him with disapproval for leaving them to their fate. He ignored the slightly guilty edge to his relief that he wouldn't have to be here to see Ellington's slow decay rapidly increase.
But most of all, he ignored the broken silence from the man whose heart he'd just shattered, and the echoes reverberating in the deepest parts of his soul—the long suppressed cries of a boy who made a promise to look after the son of a surrogate mother, even as knew he would never be able to keep it.
* * * *
The next day, Elias was more than ready to leave for Mournhelm.
"Are you sure you're ready?" the Dark Prince asked for the fifth time as they stood in front of the large wooden doors that led outside the castle. They had long since packed and servants had delivered their belongings—save a small travel bag Elias had slung over his shoulder—to a carriage waiting in the City of White. All that was keeping them from leaving was the Prince's stubborn insistence on Elias making absolutely sure he didn't leave without being one hundred percent sure he had no unfinished business.
"Yes, Highness," Elias said, narrowing his eyes in exasperation. In fact, he'd just been to see the Head Librarian to make sure the older man had enough notes to start the research paper they planned to write on Ancient Elven language and customs. If all went well, he would send his first draft to Elias through the post within a month for suggestion and revision. "If you ask a sixth time, I shall not be held responsible for my actions."
The Prince snorted. "I'm almost tempted…"
"Highness."
"Very well," he said with a chuckle. "I suppose we should leave, then." He looked around at the mostly empty foyer. "So much for the royal send-off."
"You had your leaving feast last night." Elias reminded him. A feast Elias had absolutely refused to accompany the Prince to, no matter how much he'd begged. "It's not Ellingish custom to give multiple farewells to visiting dignitaries."
The Dark Prince sighed. "And I was so hoping to see the delightful Crown Prince one last time, too."
Elias scowled. He didn't want to think about the Crown Prince. "Let's go."
He turned and stalked out of the castle, squinting slightly as the bright sunlight stung his eyes. It's been far too long since I've been outdoors. He was halfway down the long, stone road that led into the city when the Prince caught up with him. They walked in silence for several minutes before the Prince slipped his hand into Elias's and gave it a squeeze.
"I'm sorry," the Prince said. "I wish things could have ended better for you two."
Elias scoffed. "No you don't. You hate the Crown Prince."
"Yes, but I love you. And I don't like to see you upset."
Elias could have easily summoned up a rejoinder about how the Dark Prince actually loved to make Elias upset, but doing so would be childish and petty. Especially when the Dark Prince was trying to be genuinely supportive. Elias sighed and squeezed the Prince's hand back.
"I know," Elias said softly. "Thank you."
It took them ten minutes to make their way into the upper districts of the City of White. The carriage, a giant black box emblazoned with a coat of arms that prominently featured the Mournhelm, was covered with over a dozen trunks all tied together with very elaborate knots. The driver greeted the Dark Prince with a nod and a deferential "Highness" before turning his attention back to the horses. Elias raised an eyebrow, surprised the Dark Prince didn't have servants falling over themselves to open the door for him, among other such noble nonsense. The Prince simply smiled back before opening the door himself and bowing briefly.
"May I help you in, my dear?" he asked, holding out his hand.
Elias rolled his eyes, but took the offered hand and climbed into the carriage with a small smile playing about his lips. The Prince climbed in and slid across the comfortably padded bench until he was pressed up against Elias's side. The Prince knocked twice on the wall, and the carriage started to move as Elias looked out the window at the city he just now realized he'd never actually been to before.
"This is the furthest I've ever been away from the castle," he mused aloud.
"Truly?"
Elias nodded.
"Well, then this will be an adventure from start to finish." The Prince's hand found its way back into Elias's and the scholar turned towards him. "You have no idea how much it pleases me to be the one to show you the world," the Prince murmured.
Two months ago, Elias would have said he had absolutely no desire to see a world he could just as easily read about in the comfort of the Great Library. Now, looking into the eyes of his fiancé, and seeing the way they sparkled with excitement, he could think of little he would rather do. For the first time in his life, Elias could look at the person he was in the present and see a great change from who he had been in the past. Not even the death of his parents had so shaken the fundamental nature of who Elias Sutterby was as a person. Yet, even though he had fought against change his whole life, Elias could be nothing but pleased with the person he was now. He had a fiancé who loved him, approval from a scholar he greatly respected, and he was on his way to live in a kingdom filled with unknown knowledge and history.
His future, once as unchangeable as the sky itself, was suddenly overflowing with possibility.
"Thank you," Elias whispered.
The Prince raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For making my life better, just by being in it."
Whatever the Prince had been expecting, it obviously wasn't anything so sentimental, and Elias couldn't help grinning at the utterly gobsmacked look on the Prince's face. It was a strangely kissable expression, and so he pressed his lips to it. The Prince took a moment to respond, but once he did Elias was reminded exactly why kissing was his new third favorite thing.
Unfortunately, he refused to progress to the second inside of a carriage with a driver less than ten feet away.
"I-I have a present for you," Elias said breathlessly, gently pushing his new favorite thing away by his shoulders.
"Then I should probably unwrap it, shouldn't I?" The Prince purred as he reached for the ties of Elias's tunic.
Elias slapped his hand away. "Stop that!"
The Prince shot Elias a look of almost adorable confusion. "What? Why?"
"I'm not getting naked in a carriage! It's practically public nudity. Besides, I have an actual gift for you."
The Dark Prince stared at Elias for a long moment, his expression silently begging him to reconsider. When Elias crossed his arms over his chest, the Prince let out a huff and slumped back in his seat.
"I'm going to cure you of your prudishness one of these days, you know."
"If you'll recall, I'm hardly a prude when we're alone in our bedroom. Especially when it concerns activities of the mouth—"
The Prince groaned. "Stop! You can't say things like that if you won't let me act upon them."
Elias smirked. "Would you like your gift, then?"
"Yes, yes, very well. If I'm not going to receive satisfaction, I might as well receive a gift."
Laughing silently at the Prince's pouting, Elias opened his travel bag and pulled out a rectangular object wrapped in white cloth.
"I apologize for not wrapping it properly," Elias said as he handed it over.
The Prince looked at it curiously, before pulling off the cloth to reveal a leather bound book with a rema
rkably detailed painting of the Dark Prince on the cover. The Prince raised an eyebrow and opened the book.
Written on the first page were the words Competent Royalty: The Tale of the Dark Prince of Mournhelm, Volume 1. Written by the Dark Prince and Elias Sutterby.
"You finished it," the Prince said softly, gently tracing the lettering with his fingertips.
"I finished the first draft," Elias corrected. "I would have had the final version finished, but I had to hastily add a third-act murder mystery. When I'm done, however, this is where it will be written."
"It's beautiful," the Prince said, once again looking at the portrait on the cover. He glanced up at Elias and smirked. "Although, how could it not be, given the subject?"
Elias snorted. "You're lucky I was able to find an artist who would risk your displeasure by painting you. That he ended up being talented was only a bonus, I assure you." He reached into his robes and pulled out a thick pile of papers loosely bound with thin rope. "Here's the completed first draft, should you wish to actually read it instead of looking at the pictures."
The Prince chuckled as he took the papers from Elias, then opened it and started skimming through random pages, laughing or cringing or smirking as appropriate. After a few minutes he closed it and looked at Elias.
"I notice the title says 'volume one'."
It wasn't really a question, but Elias nodded anyway. "I sincerely doubt the Dark Prince of Mournhelm peaked at the age of twenty, and since I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with him, it's only fitting that I be the one to chronicle his life and his, no doubt, many future accomplishments. Along with helping him write any other books he may wish to have published."
For a scholar who hated to be dragged away from his own work for any reason, agreeing to be the personal biographer-slash-ghostwriter of another person was the most intimate way he had of giving himself to someone. Beyond sharing his body, or even agreeing to be his husband, this was how Elias told the Dark Prince exactly how much he loved him; by choosing to place his fiancé's work above his own.