by L Ward
A spellogram arrived that morning letting him know they were staying with Grandma until the new year, and that the festival was fucking amazing. A short while later an envelope of photographs was delivered; Mum and Dad wearing printed Solstice or Bust t-shirts, their smiles brighter than the roaring bonfire of yellow and indigo behind them. Kalani stood beside them flashing a peace sign looking chill and owning her snowball crown. Ian was grinning like a lunatic, treating the cameraman to a double thumbs-up. But the most surprising admission was that they already knew about the proposal.
“I brought them to the palace, not just for your birthday, but to ask for your hand,” said Nath, blushing.
“Are you sure we didn’t fall through a time portal into the Middle Ages, you know, if they didn't condemn gays to hell?”
“I was respecting your honour, and that of your parents. It’s hard to follow tradition in modern times,” said Nath.
“Oh, really? You weren’t worried about my honour when you randomly dropped your boxers the other night and told me to get on the bed.”
Nath’s laugh was pure magic, “I didn’t hear you complain.”
“Who the hell would complain about having sex with you?”
∞∞∞
The full moon was a mere day away; Nath was pale as a jar of moonshine. When they attended a lively Court lunch, he was obviously struggling. Throughout the meal he picked at his food, held his breath and jumped out of his chair when it was time to leave.
∞∞∞
Sir Wintor was adamant they go everything at least twice, convinced Evan knew nothing of using a knife and fork. Turns out, he was right because the number of forks, knives and spoons laid out for a formal dinner was beyond his comprehension. Elbows off the table and don’t talk with your mouth full? Check. Remembering what each utensil was for? Not so much.
“I want to see you bow,” Sir Wintor snapped his fingers in his face.
Evan gave it his best shot. “Like this?”
“No, feet together and stop looking sheepish.” It continued like that for half an hour before Evan was able to execute a respectable bow on command.
“The accent,” Sir Wintor addressed Nathaniel. “Are we getting rid of it?”
“No,” said Nath.
Sir Wintor looked a little crestfallen. “Very well. Let’s put all of today’s work together. I am a noble, and you’re about to dine with me.” He flourished his cloak, raising expectant eyebrows at Evan.
Hours. It took hours, and soon Sir Wintor’s patience grew thin. Evan couldn’t wait to relax for a bit by the end of it, but the King had other plans, and Evan was surprised by summons to a parlour on the fifth floor where he was greeted by two journalists with shark grins and enormous cameras.
“Hello Evan, my name is Hornby Snaith and this is my colleague Jacklyn Smith; we’ve been asked to interview you about your introduction to royal life and betrothal to His Highness,” said the young man he’d seen hanging around chatting to students and printing gossip for some LGBTQ+ organisations.
“Hi,” he said nervously, wishing he was back in the library with Sir Wintor.
“Nothing to worry about, just a few questions. It’s all above board and will be screened,” the woman said baring gigantic bleached teeth.
Evan stared and his anxiety engulfed him in a tsunami. This was going to be a long evening.
Chapter 32
On the night of the full moon, Nath took him to one of the most amazing places in the palace. The Soul Room. Unlike the countless other rooms, the veins here threaded only through the floor. An enormous black liquid ceiling rippled as they strode to the center of the expanse. It was like being suspended in time and space. The floor glittered, echoing their dying footsteps.
Tendrils of magic pricked Evan’s skin, he watched the ceiling smooth itself like ebony glass. “I’ve heard of this place,” he said, gazing up at the tempest clouds swirling behind the glossy surface. A fuzzy, dull reflection of himself gazed back. He watched as reflection-Evan filled with a soft white light.
Nath’s smile could lure people to their deaths. “It makes a change to see someone with a pure soul in this room,” he said, looking up at reflection Evan. Real Evan stared at the two ominous boys, white light glowing from within. “Usually when people are brought here it isn’t under such pleasant circumstances.”
Evan wanted so badly to ask who’d been brought here but that likely wasn’t public knowledge. He wondered briefly if Will had ever been here, and what the ceiling had shown when he stood beneath it. “What happens if you don’t have a pure soul?”
“Your reflection will appear dark and cloudy. Some people won’t reflect anything at all,” said Nath. “It reads you and passes spiritual judgement. A thing like this has never been recreated, they just exist. It’s the ancient magic my ancestors pumped into the palace in the dark days of betrayal and war. They would lure people to dinner in here, and it would tell their friends from foes. It’s also the reason for more than a few dozen executions over the course of history.”
“I’ll bet it could be fun too,” said Evan. “What if I had a damaged soul?”
Nath stared at him with the thoughtfulness of a mother bird. “I would want to know what you’d done to cause such a thing.”
“Well, what ruins a person’s soul?” Evan asked, stomach shot full of thrills. This was lore; this was better than what Flint taught them about the mass unicorn poaching of the 1600s, or the Mad Witch of Huntingdon in 1923.
“Murder is the most common. Not an accidental killing, lawful execution or in defence of others, but cold-blooded killings. Another way is crimes against children, or soul-trading,” said Nath, gazing up at the reflections again.
“What’s that?” Evan asked. He’d never even heard of this stuff before.
“One has to willingly trade their soul or a piece of it for something in the physical life. For example; you’ve heard of conspiracy stories, haven’t you?” Nath began.
Evan nodded.
“I hate to say that many are true. Some humans and other magical beings have traded parts of, or their entire soul, to an underground operation of warlocks in exchange for whatever they desire: magical gifts, longer lifespans, fame, fortune, or even to curse someone.”
Evan swallowed. “Does that mean anyone can go to these warlocks and trade their immortal soul for temporary gain?” Disbelief crossed his face.
Nath nodded, eyes twinkling thoughtfully. “Really, anyone could do it, but the sort of person to trade their eternal afterlife for money and attention cannot be a happy or sane one.”
“That’s tragic,” said Evan, “it’s beyond desperation.”
“It is, but it’s their choice. They can sell their soul piece by piece or all at once, but it comes with another price- over time you would break down mentally and physically until you’re a shell of a being- if you make it that long. The fastest star to rise is always the first to fall.”
Evan felt an overwhelming urge to cross himself despite not being Catholic. “Is there anything else that would destroy someone’s soul other than murder and kid crimes?”
“The undead have no souls; vampires, demons, and cursed warlocks are just a few of them. Rarely people are born without souls, they’re vessels and they’re often dangerous, unstable people that have an ancestry of demonics or succubae. They feast on the happiness of people around them, becoming obsessed with draining an individual’s life energy until there is nothing left. They literally feed on souls, the more they consume the longer they live and the stronger they become, but despite all of this they’ll never have their own soul,” Nath finished with a nervous laugh. “It’s hideous when you think about it like that.”
“And if they don’t continue draining souls they themselves will die?”
Nath nodded. “You catch on quickly.”
“Have you ever seen someone with a damaged soul?”
“Yes,” said Nath.
Evan’s courage faded from crimson to
tear-stained pink. He didn’t ask who.
∞∞∞
Hours later, Nath rose; donned in shackles like a lunar ghost. Nausea roiled in Evan’s belly watching Elijah fasten chains to his son’s wrists and ankles.
He was by his side, arms around him, letting the magic seep into his body, willing it to please fucking do something. Nath’s skin was marble, irises burning and hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Since the Mass, Evan could sense the change more than before. He sensed it deep in the Prince’s bones.
Elijah abandoned ship the moment Nath issued his first warning, but Evan didn’t. He did what he’d been practicing and reached out, touching the nerve endings, biding his time and wanting nothing more than to cure him, but he couldn’t count on impossibilities today. He sensed the swoosh of hot blood in Nath’s veins, heard the rhythmic thudding of his heart, and felt the lycanthropy flooding from deep within his consciousness.
Nath thrashed against the chains, a horrific screamed pierced the night but it died as fast as it began. Every nerve ending winked out like a light, Evan’s fingertips sparking brilliant gold plumes. He was transforming, but no sound came from his lips. Fur burst from his shoulders and Evan scarpered in a veil of soft sand. He booked it through the barrier without a backward glance. The chains held, the barrier sealed, and Evan’s heart hammered a dent in his ribs.
“If you can make every full moon as painless as this one, I’d like you to please marry Nathaniel on New Year’s Day,” Elijah said calmly. For a moment he dropped his guard and Evan saw true respect for the first time. “I know you love him,” he added.
Evan smiled, “I wouldn’t stick around if I didn’t.”
When dawn broke, Nath collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. “Shitty start to day six,” his laugh was weak, but his eyes were brilliant and a smile touched his lips.
“Actually, I think today is going to be amazing,” said Evan, wearing his own wolfish grin.
Nath shot him a look of puzzlement and furrowed his brows. “Are you sure it was me who lost my mind last night?”
∞∞∞
The news was bad, another three villages were decimated by the pack, but this time one was injured and blood trails appeared, trekking north. Evan felt queasy reading the royal reports over lunch in their rooms.
“Three people died,” said Nath, staring into the simmering fireplace.
“What does this mean?” Evan frowned, holding out the scroll.
“It means these aren’t ordinary werewolves we’re dealing with. These are experimentations which is why they haven’t been killed and are moving so quickly.”
Evan swallowed. “Experiments?”
“It isn’t common knowledge, but the Dead Country is run almost exclusively by warlocks, demons and dark wizards headed by Govenor Undermouth. They’re an independent, exiled nation so there’s nothing to stop them manufacturing or enhancing monsters.”
Evan felt sick to his stomach, if he hadn’t had already been sitting he would've likely collapsed. “Manufacturing,” he said, voice laced with disgust.
Nath nodded solemnly.
∞∞∞
What young man, crippled with lycanthropy, would want to spend the evening in an observatory stargazing and planet-hopping with his fiancé and an enormous telescope? Apparently, Nath did.
“A little further north,” he whispered in Evan’s ear, breath tickling his neck making him shiver pleasantly.
“Wow,” said Evan, gazing at a cluster of stars spelling out I love you. His face broke in a grin. “Your magic never ceases to amaze me.”
“Mm, what about if you look to the south east?” said Nath.
Evan McIntyre x
Evan’s heart swelled. He hadn’t even thought about that yet. He'd been thrust into a whirlwind of emotion, and with every passing second he loved harder, strived further, and liberated himself more, even in moments of paralysing anxiety he’d wanted to push through it for himself, and for Nath.
Nath laughed and everything turned pitch-black. He took Evan’s hands and turned him so he felt the warmth of his skin, smelled his minty breath and heard the cavernous echoes of his dimples.
The room came to life with a million stars stolen from Heaven, glittering all around them. An odd sensation of lightness spread up Evan’s calves as though his ankles had sprouted feathery wings. He saw the stars below and realisation struck as gravity vanished.
“What the fuck?” he gasped, eyes darting helplessly to Nath.
The Prince’s eyes were sparkling like bedded gems.
“Is this really you?” If so, this was serious magic.
Nath nodded, smile breaking his handsome face. “I’d give you the world,” he said, opening a palm. Evan watched a tiny, flickering green and blue orb immaculately representing the earth turning on its axis. “My heart,” he leaned in, brushing their lips together, “and steal the galaxy for you.”
The solar system burst into kaleidoscope of life around them. They were floating in deep space; comets cursed the skies and planets rose in the distance like titans of war. Sound vanished and Evan wasn’t even sure they were still in the observatory.
“Am I supposed to be hard right now?” Evan asked, heart hammering against his ribs.
Nath laughed, brushing up against him confirming that, yes, he fucking was. “Want to make love on Mars?” he asked, gesturing to an enormous mound of red powdery sand; an ominous moon winking on its horizon. Behind it a brilliant fiery light shone bathing them in warmth.
Evan was speechless.
“Do you prefer Saturn?” Nath thumbed over his right shoulder to where a beautiful golden mist swirled like a sunburst, ringed in brilliant crimson.
“I see where this is going,” said Evan, laughter bubbling up his chest. “Uranus.”
Nath turned pink. “And where would you like it?”
“On the moon. I’d like to see the full moon, if you know what I mean,” he slid his hands to cup Nath’s ass, grinning into his lips.
Nath’s eyes were twinkling, and he began trailing kisses along Evan’s jaw. They didn’t walk backwards and collapse onto a bed, they fucking floated until they found themselves sprawling across the metallic surface of the moon, glittering with magic. Stars surrounded them like mystical beings, other planets winking in the distance.
Evan was breathing heavily as he peeled off the Prince’s clothes, so he was fairly sure they were in the observatory. Fairly.
When they were spent and sleepy, Nath curled in his arms looking pale but relaxed. Sometime later he returned the skies, and they fell asleep beneath the moon's harmless gaze.
Chapter 33
Hogmanay was the King’s favourite way of celebrating the new year; the whole palace was gleaming.
Evan woke to butterfly kisses, fingers in his hair and Nath serenading him in an unexpectedly lovely voice. That anxious boa returned to crush the remains of his stomach into pulp. It was the seventh day, and if he agreed to marry Nath, they would be married in the morning.
“Where did you learn to be this romantic?” he asked, wearing nothing but a smile.
“Didn’t you know? Princes are born charming,” he flashed his dimples and Evan laughed. “I’ve a whole day planned for us, but first, I’ve news from my father, and unfortunately it isn’t good.”
Evan sat up, tension locking his joints. “What’s happened?”
“They’ve set a date for the summit. The fourteenth of January,” said Nath, swallowing audibly.
And then it hit him. If they married it would be two weeks until Nath temporarily took the reins of kingship, and Evan would be right there alongside him. Oh shit. “How long will they be away for?”
“Only four days,” said Nath. “Dad doesn’t intend to stick around long, he’s planning to end this quickly,” he sighed. “There’s been so much destruction this time, the attacks are getting beyond our control, and the lands near the border are dying. It pains me to say that the boundaries are crumbling from inside the Dead Countr
y, Artemis and Undermouth mean business, and as much as I’m dreading it, my regency can’t come fast enough.”
Evan whistled low through his teeth and gazed up at the ceiling. He was part of this now; this would be his life. Strategy, analysis, hard work, selflessness, and constant political gambling. “Where’s your confidence gone, Nath?”
Nath hesitated, and in that split-second a dozen emotions pooled in his beautiful, mismatched eyes. He took Evan’s hand in his own, stroking his thumb over his soft skin. “I’m afraid the bad news isn’t over yet. They’ve caught and interrogated one of the werewolves from the pack.”
Evan’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Then, it’s over, isn’t it? They’ll be caught the next time they try to cross.”
Nath shook his head meeting his gaze. “They tortured the man for information and still he refused to give any. He’s being brought to the palace as an example, and his execution is scheduled for next week.”
Realisation dawned. Evan wasn’t sure what happened in those moments. He remembered Nath’s voice fading, the sound of water filling his ears, and nothing much else. He tried to speak but he was numb. This couldn’t be happening. It could not be fucking happening.
“You don’t have to witness anything if you choose not to,” said Nath.
Evan’s mind returned to focus. “The King won’t mind me staying put?”
Nath’s eyebrows furrowed. “Evan, this is a test. It’s part of the Seven Days when you’re to be challenged, but I didn’t think he would go this far,” he blurted, mortification reddening his face. “I’m to reply with an answer today,” his eyes filled with pleading. He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
“And if I say no he won’t let me marry you.”
Nath nodded and Evan was almost sick. “I’ll try to reason with him,” he said.
“I’m being selfish,” said Evan, voice small. “I don’t want to watch someone die, but I want to marry you and capital punishment is a part of your job. I understand that. I support it in the right instances, but what about you in all this?”