by L Ward
“So wed him,” said Gerard looking pointedly at Elijah. “He and that commoner are all over the media, it’s bloody embarrassing! He’s not a normal prince and should’ve been married long ago, not left to fool around with livestock.”
“The only livestock I fooled around with is your son,” said Nath.
“Nathaniel!” His mother gasped.
Briggard excused himself.
“Enough! You know of our enchantment,” Elijah said to Gerard, and his eyes darted to Nathaniel for the briefest whim.
“Why haven’t you asked him if he’s in love?” said Gerard, livid, fists clenched and flickering with flames.
The room deadpanned.
Nath's heart was hammering, sweat prickled his palms and he grew hot all over. Will’s eyes were burning, dark and furious. He glanced helplessly to his mother whom he'd visited a couple nights ago and broken down in the confession the country had been waiting to answer since his birth.
Elijah turned to him slowly as though biding time would change his answer. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and the firelight turned the tips of his hair buttery. Time passed before he spoke, but when he did Nath knew his response would change his life forever. “Are you in love?” Elijah raised his eyebrows.
“Yes,” Nath swallowed, and the arteries snaking their thick trunk-like bodies around the room turned a dazzling shade of snowfall white. For a few stunned moments it eclipsed the room, gradually receding until they were under the torchlight once more.
Elijah’s face slackened. “Have you told Evan yet?”
“No,” said Nath, anxiety burning a hole in his chest. “I didn’t want to terrify him on his first day here. I’m a lot to throw at someone.”
Gerard was frowning, looking between the prince and Will. “What’s so amazing about this Evan?”
“He’s a healer,” said Elijah.
Nath’s stomach constricted like a boa crushing its prey to death.
Will jerked into view, face darkened with fury. “Healer?!” he snarled.
“We’re not talking about the plain guy you’ve been dancing with, are we?” Gerard wrinkled his nose with disgust.
“I danced with Evan, yes, and I wouldn't have sex with him if I considered him,” said Nath.
Grotesque shadows of rage damaged Will’s face; his fists slammed to his sides, smouldering.
“There’re options far superior than him,” said Gerard looking from Elijah to Will. “You can’t seriously think he’d be a good consort?”
“I offered him princesses; he told me he wants a prince. I’ve dangled eligible young men before him for years and not once has he behaved like this,” Elijah said slowly.
Nath looked at his father with anxious, pleading eyes. The atmosphere was denser than granite and so hot he was sweating. He tried to speak but his father held up a hand to silence both of them.
“My decision is made. You have until New Year’s Morn to prepare. I want him educated in politics, etiquette and peacemaking,” said Elijah, voice even as distilled water.
Nath’s heart fluttered with terrified excitement. He’d known Evan three months: three wonderful, jam-packed months of dazzling days bursting with life and magical nights beneath the stars. Now he was supposed to take this amazing, inexperienced guy and in less than a month prepare him to become his consort. Training wouldn’t even begin unless he accepted the proposal.
“Okay,” Nath said a lot more calmly than he felt.
“And if he fails to win this person’s hand?” Gerard raised his brows looking so much like an older version of Will it was like a time portal had been torn open and they’d both popped out furious.
“If you succeed,” said Elijah, meeting Nath’s gaze and finally addressing him as a man. “You’ll be wed by morning, but if you fail,” he glanced at Gerard, “then you’ll wed a young man of my choosing that same day.” His eyes drifted to Will.
Point taken.
Nath’s stomach bound itself in acidic knots reminding him of the hell snakes he’d seen on a treaty trip to Thailand five years ago with Emperor Wan. He felt Will straighten as though the fight wasn’t over until the ring was on the finger. “In that case I want you to promise nobody will breathe a word about this to Evan, and this becomes forfeit to me if anyone attempts sabotage,” he said, looking pointedly at Will; the hairs on his neck spiked under the intense, smouldering gaze.
“You have my word,” said Elijah.
Will’s skin glimmered with flames rippling from his fists to his shoulders. He stormed out; shadows bobbed in the wake of his departure and the temperature fell at once.
“Let’s hope the commoner stays in its place,” Gerard spat and followed his son out.
Nath was alone with his parents, both bearing burdens of anxiety.
“I wouldn’t agree there,” said Elijah, sinking into one of the armchairs. “He’s your one true love, meaning, whatever he may be, he’s destined for the throne. It’s no secret that I wish he were high-born, especially for you. A commoner hasn’t been on the throne in a great many years and, usually, they don’t have the experience or public backing to succeed.”
Nath was feeling like all his dreams and nightmares had come to life in a kaleidoscope of emotion and magic. “I’ve been organising something for Evan’s birthday next week. He deserves a traditional royal proposal. When I meet his family I’ll ask for their blessing first and if they say yes, start the Seven Days of Betrothal on Christmas Eve,” he said.
“As you wish. I grant you permission to bring him to the Mass of the Gods on Christmas Night,” said Elijah.
Nath’s jaw slackened. The Mass of the Gods in celebration of All Souls was a beautiful service giving thanks to the gods for their guidance, love and safety throughout the year. It was a service for members of the royal family- the descendants of said gods- leading educators, aristocrats, people of learning, and spiritual figures. Inviting Evan to the service was intimate and as good as welcoming him into the family. His mother looked like she was going to cry with something akin to pride; he hugged her tight.
Chapter 26
Something had changed but Evan couldn’t put his finger on what. The garlands strung along every wall were now bursting with red poinsettias showering random passersby in clouds of glitter, and the once small golden bows had become waterfalls of silken ribbons. Spellograms shooting overheard had changed, too: scarlet, emerald and gold were now their primary colours, and Evan could've sworn people were staring at him more than usual.
A trio of maids leapt out of their skins when he rounded a corner; their jaws slammed shut, faces flushed as they scurried away. There was no time to think on it, he spotted Jeremiah perched like a lonely gargoyle on a stone bench just outside the doors. Heavy flakes drifted from the sky settling in the wool of his cloak.
“Got a death wish?” Evan asked, footsteps crunching delightfully in the snow.
Jeremiah looked up, his face was drained and dark circles smudged beneath his eyes. “Hey.”
“You’ve ignored everyone for days and that’s all you come out with?” he frowned, irritation creeping over his skin like cockroaches.
“I’ve tried to talk to Cass but she won’t let me. Kris is pissed at me too, and I got a D in lore,” his shoulders sagged, but Evan refused to feel pity.
“Man, you’re the one who cheated, lied and couldn’t handle the consequences. Who gives a damn if Kristyn is upset? She knew you were dating Cass and probably only did it to spite her,” said Evan. “Pull yourself together. It’s Christmas.”
“The season of good will to all men but me,” he replied pathetically.
“It’s called karma and you deserve it for messing with people’s heads,” said Evan. The afternoon had turned bitter and despite the early hour the sky was blanketed by angry charcoal clouds. “If you still care about Cass then my advice is to make a big effort before it’s too late, and if she still doesn’t want you then at least you tried.” He walked off feeling proud and r
elieved to finally get that off his chest. Weeks of tension, ignorance and refusing to talk was grating on him, and if it didn’t stop, he wasn’t going to talk to either of them anymore.
Arriving back at his rooms he was surprised to find a spellogram relentlessly hammering his window trying to get in. He blasted open the window with his magic and it shot inside with such force it ricocheted off the mirror and left a coal-black scorch on the wall. It crackled with romantic riches and fizzled out in the palm of his hand.
Mr. Evan Ravenway
For an evening of festive wonder and dancing, you’re invited to attend the Royal Holiday Ballon Saturday 9th December in accompaniment of His Royal Highness Prince Nathaniel.
Please send back your RSVP promptly.
Yours Always,
Nath x
He wrote back at the speed of light, heart bounding like a spring hare. The Christmas party. He’d almost forgotten with the beastly uni workload and the frustration of listening to Cass and Blaise tear each other apart during dueling practices, leaving Evan and Andrew at a loss for what to do. He and Cass had been working on tactics together and when the suggestion of his role as a backline support cropped up, Blaise jumped at the chance to push him out of the limelight . Evan was more than okay with that.
When the last rays of tangerine went down on the horizon and dozens of diamonds came out to play, Evan pulled on the jeans Nath gave him, and clasping his invitation like a ticket to the next universe, he bypassed the guards into the east wing.
The hallways were alive with magic, becoming a gem encrusted winter wonderland, warmed by torches and smellijng of ground nutmeg and pine, welcomng as a grandma's house. A fine layer of silver dusted every surface, twinkling in the starlight.
Two of the largest guards Evan had ever seen stood outside the glass ballroom door. Candlelight and merry mirth spilled across the jet floor, winking like gold ocean caps. He gave the woman, who had to be at least 6’6, his name and she let him pass with a sweep of her enormous arm.
The ballroom was packed with whispering silks and bejeweled women sparkling like a magpie’s nest and swaying to the cheery festive music leaking from the Faded Orchestra- a group of musicians said to be made of melodies. All pale as death with pitch-black eyes, glossy raven hair and blurred around the edges. At the head of the room a mountainous Christmas tree shone with regal magnificence, donning the king’s red and gold. Tiny colourful orbs of light shone from every branch. Christmas wrapped its fuzzy arms around Evan with all the warmth and reassurance of a mother.
Looking around the enormous chamber gave Evan a solid realisation: he was not dressed correctly.
“There you are,” Nath said breathlessly, he kissed Evan in front of the nobles, some eying him like an explosive. His eyes twinkled with mischief as they swept Evan’s attire. “I’ve never seen anyone look so hot in a Christmas jumper,” Nath’s breath smelled of strawberry champagne and prospective kisses.
Evan turned an impossible shade of scarlet: redder than his jumper with thick, white rings down the arms and an enormous candy cane dominating front and back.
“I saw the word festive and made an ass of myself,” he laughed.
Nath’s gaze was warm and relaxed. “On the contrary, I think you’re the only person here with a little Christmas spirit.” He was glowing in finery, radiant and carried himself with all the confidence a royal heir should; he swept a flute of blossoming bubbles from a passing servant into Evan’s hand and lead him through crowds of the wealthy, powerful patrons of court.
He was dizzy in moments, time felt weird in the ballroom as though everything was veiled in a layer of magic. Dancers whirled a tornado of colour and blinding jewels. The smell of perfume was almost suffocating.
The prince introduced him to countless nobles, members of council, foreign ambassadors donning a rainbow of religious and spiritual attire, and other figures of note. Many wore the gleaming golden tunics of World Spiritual Unity, or so Nath explained. Evan’s head spun trying to track names; faces, occupations, and what all of their titles meant. The alcohol helped and soon he was relaxed enough to ignore the occasional smirk or peculiar glance at his jumper, even when they ran into Will, all hard-lines and designer clothes beside his immaculate mother.
“Nice jumper did ya nan make it?” he asked, dark eyes glittering as he sipped champagne.
“Yeah, she did. Dead good at it, isn’t she?” Evan smirked, watching Will’s calculating eyes roam over Nath.
“It must be where you get those talented hands from,” said Nath as casually; he lifted a second flute.
The desire to laugh was unbearable; Evan tipped far too much champagne down his throat, nearly choking on his pleasure.
Will shot him a disgusted look. “Real chugging that like beer,” he said.
“It’ll be nice to see you over Christmas,” Nath said, steering him away from Will and his miserable-looking mother. She was beautiful, but something chilling resided in her gaze.
“Of course. I heard the palace is amazing at Christmastime,” said Evan.
Nath’s smile became a shark-like grin, “I was hoping you’d say that. What about your family?”
“Mum and Dad are going to a winter solstice festival with my nan and little brother, but my sister’s spending it with her friends at one of their preservation camps,” said Evan.
“You have a sister?” asked Will, brushing up against his back.
Evan stepped away and eyed him suspiciously. “Twin sister. Why?”
Will’s eyes sparkled with mystery and danger. “I’m trying to imagine a girl version of you,” autumnal eyes raked him like a specimen. “Woof,” he smiled and walked away.
All was forgotten as they danced the merry night away. Champagne flowed like heart’s blood; music sent vibrations through Evan’s jaw, and a charm kept everyone’s feet on the dancefloor. He was drunk; brushing elbows with some of the richest and most powerful people in the country, and all he could focus on was this gorgeous, radiant beacon of a boy on his arm.
He bowed low to the king and queen when their circles mingled but found himself relaxing a little more under their gaze. Nath’s spirit was infectious and he flirted Evan all around the ballroom, showing him off to everyone. Will eyed them with intense disgust, forever only a few paces away all evening until their flirting lead them to midnight races through the palace; tumbling through secret passages, and straight into the prince’s bed.
∞∞∞
Thirty Wounded and Six Killed in Dead Country Attack:
Tragic news arrived from the palace this morning as we were informed thirty soldiers have been wounded and six killed during a vicious attack along the south of the Dead Country border. With tensions as hot as dragon breath, the public look to His Majesty during this dire time in hopes real action will be taken to silence the rebels.
Last week, Defence Chancellor Sir. Briggard Rakes and the Senior Councilwoman from London’s Committee of Warlocks, Faye Brookes, among others, met with representatives of the Dead Country’s council, A Mr Regis Catterby and a M. Nara to discuss international relations and resolutions. The people were led to believe this was a matter that required quiet resolution, but it seems this isn’t the case. As yet, there has been no comment from the palace as to what action will be taken next.
P. Philman – Black Cat Media.
Devastation as Enchanted Site Dies:
The ancient cave of Lunara was demolished under violent explosions some two miles away in the Dead Country. Local Farmer Peter Clifford said he was Geomancing his pastures when a sudden earthquake knocked him off his feet: ‘I was just out there tending my pastures as I do every morning, and the next thing I know I’m flat on my back knocked out for two seconds, and the sky has gone black as you’ve never seen it. Not one star, not a moon. It went colder than you can imagine, colder than the Devil’s soul and I were starting to think I’d died when all this purple smoke started pouring out the ground. I watched where Lunara’s Cave used to be. It
were like all the magic died; I can’t describe it better than all the life left. The sky has been dark since.’
- Jenny Larsson, WMN reporter
“We should look at this how it is. History!” Flint announced as he strode into the lore room, mud coloured cloak flapping behind him and waving newspapers like an overgrown London paperboy. “Every second ends in heroism or tragedy; we learn, we experience and we write what future generations will study hundreds of years from now,” he continued, bright-blue eyes shining with excitement.
“Bloody lunatic,” Will muttered.
“Your birthday's on Friday,” Nath began flipping his text pages, wafting the smell of ink, “I’ve planned another dinner with my family as a small celebration,” he continued, wearing a smile that tightened Evan’s trousers.
“Why would your parents make time for me at this time of year?” Evan asked, frowning at the odd expression on Nath’s face. Either he was losing his marbles, or Nath had told him how busy his parents were with engagements throughout winter some weeks ago.
“You’d be surprised what they’ll do for me,” Nath replied with all the lightness of new fallen snow.
∞∞∞
They were weeks away from the dueling competition, and Evan’s stress levels were rising. He and Cass had come up with some decent tactics but when the session started Blaise was late, Andrew was in shit mood, and Cass looked like one false move would land her in jail.
When he finally showed up, looking joyfully rumpled and smirking arrogantly, they had barely half an hour to go over their work as a team.
“Atlantis! Where in the name of Kathryn the Great have you been?!” Dulcatt rose from his chair looking furious.
“Unbelievable,” Cass raged. “You’ve the cheek to turn up this late when we have two weeks to get this down before we face our first competition. What was so important it overshadowed us?”