by L Ward
“There’s to be a rainbow march across the country today in celebration,” said Nath when the maids disappeared. “We should use a viewing portal and watch.”
Evan’s stomach gave a leap when he saw the photo of them kissing under a shower of petals outside the church. Warmth spread to his extremities as he flipped through the impressive pile. “I went to a few Pride parades before, they were fantastic.”
“I’ve only been allowed to watch from the palace,” Nath said, gazing at Evan wistfully. It reminded him of all the little things he’d taken for granted. Unlike Nath, his childhood had been carefree. “Your parents have been offered an estate,” he continued. Evan looked up, alarmed. “Now you’re a member of the royal family they’ll also require protection. Their home is placed in trust to their children and they’ve accepted a secure estate within reasonable distance of the shop. Alexander’s able to employ on-site sales managers while he conducts private lab work.”
“You gave my dad his own lab?!” Evan was nearly on his feet with excitement but his unsettled stomach pinned him to the chair. “He’s always wanted one!” This meant incredible things for the shop. His dad could engineer so many new products. It was another step closer to global acceptance of cannabis.
Nath’s handsome face dimpled. “There are wedding gifts for all of your family. I hope they’re enjoying them,” he said with a whisper of a smile.
Breakfast tasted sweeter after a second wake and bake, and a stroll through the gardens took the edge off Evan’s hangover enough that he could withstand the offices by lunchtime.
“We’ll honeymoon when weather fairs and travel is safer,” said Nath. Their footsteps echoed the jet corridors. “Too many monsters have been sighted in our territory, air, land and sea. Dad is eager to get this done.”
Evan’s stomach soured at the prospect. Nath was worried enough about his regency, but the thought of a honeymoon in some faraway place full of magic and sex sounded amazing. He’d never been on a real vacation before.
“I’ve a selection of highlighted causes here, Mum hand-picked the most important, or most reported, problems for your first project. I know you want to push forward with the dispensaries, but Mum thought it was a bit simple for your first major project,” said Nath, unlocking his top drawer and handing Evan a fat pink file.
“So, all I have to do is choose something to support?” Evan asked, quirking an eyebrow. This didn’t sound too hard. So far he’d seen everything from the social housing crisis to supporting British dragon handlers during the Tour of the Wilds display the following summer.
“Once you’ve chosen, you need to look at the budget for it, decide where the funds are best spent and how you can strive to resolve or improve the situation,” said Nath, sinking into his leather seat.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the frosty window casting a greyish tint about the room. The torches flickered a soft indigo, and Evan swallowed his anxiety.
“You mean I become a figurehead for something that will affect the public?”
“Yes,” said Nath, wearing his most handsome smile. “You’re a prince now and I believe in you.”
Evan stared at the papers, sinking into the chair opposite. “This is a joke, isn’t it? It’s some kind of reaction test?”
Hope rose like a phoenix.
“It’s not a joke, pick whatever one you feel most strongly about,” said Nath.
And dropped like a stone.
“Oh,” he flipped the papers again, this time studying them more closely. The unicorns. Kalani would want him to pick the Expansion of the Magical Nature Reserves Mission, but when he turned to the back page his stomach flipped. Allow Werewolf Integration in Modern Magical Society.
“This one,” he dropped it on the table.
“Who the fuck put that in there at a time like this?!” Nath made a grab for the paper but Evan’s reactions were on point.
“You said choose what I feel most strongly about and you also told me your mum did it,” said Evan, donning a confident smirk.
Nath sat back staring at him, eyes glinting with impress. “Do you understand how difficult this one will be?” he asked. The room glittered with curiosity and possibilities.
“If I don’t already, I’m about to find out,” said Evan. “If I do this and succeed imagine how it’ll affect your ascension.”
His lips twitched into a playful smile as Nath said, “it would do wonders, if the attacks cease and the Dead Country is back under monarch control.”
“Then here is my cause,” said Evan.
Nath bowed his head and stared at him; a moment passed between them. “Does this have anything to do with tomorrow?” His voice was tender, but cut like a knife.
He’d been trying not to think of it. This whole time he’d blotted it out, and what was unsaid rose from the grave. “I’m scared,” he exhaled sharply.
Nath’s arms were around him, hugging him fiercely. “I’m sorry you’re to see it, but it’ll be over quickly.”
“Then what happens?” asked Evan, voice shaking.
Nath’s pause was discomfiting. “We move forward and never look back.”
Chapter 35
By evening Evan’s anxiety levels were through the roof. He gazed out over the snow-dazzled gardens, treetops swaying in the icy wind. They bundled themselves in a blanket, watching the world go by outside. Dining had been a virtual impossibility tonight, and Evan had nearly vomited when a spellogram arrived announcing the execution time of eleven o'clock.
He hardly slept that night. Neither of them moved from their perch by the window, and watched the sun break over the horizon without really seeing it. Nath had fallen into unsettled rest a while ago; Evan didn’t begrudge him a wink of it.
It was strangely peaceful, broken the moment Nath roused and said they needed to dress.
Breakfast was refused; classes were in session today but they wouldn’t be attending. The students were aware the execution would take place, but knew nothing else. He wasn’t sure what would happen afterward, but he couldn’t see himself going into class as though nothing happened.
Evan gazed through the balcony doors, sweat trickling down his back in hot droplets of anxiety. He was trembling; holding his husband like he was the most precious thing in the world.
“It’s time,” said Nath.
Evan’s stomach turned to ice.
∞∞∞
They didn’t speak the entire way to the King's privy courtyard. It looked like a place snatched from a history book with large blocks of finely threaded jet stone secluding a courtyard with a wooden platform raised in the center. Trees bordered the back wall, interwined with the pillars and rustling in the crisp breeze.
Evan faltered as they filed in before the dais. Being there made it all the more real. He was shaking, sweating, and wishing with all his might this would be over soon, or by some miracle he wouldn’t have to witness it at all. Nath squeezed his hand, face pale as the moon. It wasn’t just Evan who needed the support today, he had to be strong for Nath too.
A painful silence ensued and Evan’s heart hammered his ribs in a bid to escape.
After what felt like an eternity the King strode into view flanked by four guards dressed in the his livery. A holy man, the Chancellor of Defence, a senior member of the Privy Council, two other members of the King’s council, and a man wearing a long, black apron and knee-high laced boots: the executioner, followed.
The executioner turned to face the crowd as he mounted the dais, and Evan was almost sick. He wore a porcelain plague doctor mask, whether it was his idea of fun, or some sort of protocol Evan didn’t know about, he wasn’t sure. He really hoped for the latter.
A member of the council stepped forward, he was a tall man with a spade beard, slick auburn hair, and was dressed in the King’s livery. He produced a scroll which graced the floor and began reciting His Majesty’s Decree of Death.
He fought the urge to run and closed his ears, willing the wind to drown ou
t the man’s name.
Nath squeezed his hand but nothing could stop him from shaking, or the anxiety slashing his throat raw. He was oddly comforted to see a middle-aged man a couple of feet away shaking like a leaf and muttering prayers under his breath.
Evan wasn’t ready for the man to stop talking so abruptly, or for a pair of guards wearing slick dragonhide armor to drag a scrawny, filthy pulp of a man to his death. Brown hair hung over his face, long and matted. Through the oily strands Evan saw wicked dark eyes and a hard, yellow grin. His clothes were ragged and torn, almost non-existent in the dead of winter, and he was covered in blood. He stank of rank pits and uncovered remains, every inch of skin was thick with stinking hair and crusty with blood and pus. They threw him up on the dais, his knees cracked the wooden beams with a howl.
Evan’s heart stopped.
“It’s nearly over,” Nath whispered.
The executioner was behind the werewolf, drawing a brutal-looking axe from his belt. Evan’s heart was in his throat. Black light shot from the cursed head capable of slicing through steel.
“May God have mercy!” the man sobbed.
There was a whoosh, a thud, and it was done.
Time froze and all sound died.
People were leaving solemnly, but when Evan turned he felt himself falling. The ground never came, Nath caught him and dragged him away.
“What now?” the words were out but he barely registered saying them.
“We have a cup of tea,” said Nath, steering him away from the other witnesses. Some appeared bored or as though their time had been wasted, others seemed satisfied. Evan couldn’t make sense of where they were going, the images of the last moments of the man’s life replayed and the look on his face when his head rolled...
The urge to faint became overwhelming.
∞∞∞
“Here,” said Nath, perched on his bathroom counter watching Evan with anxious eyes. He held out a mug of sweet tea.
Black spots danced before him; he took it gratefully, sipping with his head over the toilet basin. “I can still smell the blood.”
“The King approved of your presence.”
“Is he approving of my absence?” Evan asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Nath’s lips twitched in something close to a smile. “Cruel he can be, but he’s also understanding and doesn’t expect you to watch the clean-up.”
“How are you coping?”
“I’ve seen death before, more than once, but I’m no veteran,” said Nath, drawing a breath. “I’ve had many years to practice. When time for duty eclipses other matters, I face it and move on. You’ve not been afforded such a privilege, but you chose this life with me, Evan. I hope you aren’t regretting it,” a look of tremendous pain flickered behind Nath’s eyes.
Evan was fighting back tears. “I’d never regret you,” he said slowly. “I just- I can’t go out and work this afternoon I need to—”
“Recover,” said Nath.
“Stay with me?”
“You don’t have to ask for my kindness, Evan.”
∞∞∞
A spellogram of nightmares arrived the day after the execution depicting his family’s horror when they read in the paper the Prince and his new husband paid witness to it. It brought everything back in a rush of sickness and terror. No matter how many times he wrote I’m fine it didn’t make the words feel less bastardised.
Over the next week classes resumed burying the implementation in the past. Evan had never worked so hard in his life juggling keeping up with his classes; attending tutoring with Sir Wintor, starting work on his first project, conversing with nobles, posing for photographs, dining with the royal family, and banging his husband’s brains out.
“How do you stand being this tired?” Evan groaned, falling into bed on Friday evening.
“You’ll get used to it,” Nath smiled, sinking down beside him in a loose black t-shirt and boxers. “We’ve been married less than two weeks.”
Evan’s eyes were wandering up his creamy thighs. “You’ll be regent in a few days.”
Nath tensed. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s gonna be fine,” said Evan.
“How is the Werewolf Integration Act coming along?”
“It’s better than I expected,” said Evan, mulling over the past few days in the office. “I’ve done some research and found there are a number of people running small organisations in support of lifting the ban on British and Northern Irish werewolves being confined to life in the wilderness. I’ve sent out an official petition under my new title and we only need a few thousand more signatures for me to write it in a proposal,” he watched Nath’s eyes sparkle with budding excitement. Evan sucked in a breath and continued, “my plan after that is to start putting forward proposals allowing supervised intervention in places that collectively vote in favour. Small numbers to start with, and a thorough vetting before it happens.”
“And if that’s successful?”
“Then maybe we can look at equality laws,” Evan swallowed, bursting with confidence and feeling shockingly stupid.
“You should be really proud of yourself, Evan,” said Nath, wearing his dimples like badges of honour. He pulled Evan into a kiss, stroking his hair. “I’m really proud of you. Your effort is surprising everyone. Sir Wintor confided in me that you’ve made a tremendous effort.”
Evan smiled, the emotions of the past week bubbling to the surface. He exhaled sharply and laughed. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a train, but I’ve enjoyed every minute of it so far no matter how many times I’ve wanted to tear my fucking hair out, or punch some smarmy noble.”
Nath was laughing, loud and infectiously melodic. “It gets much easier as time goes on, and we’ve got tomorrow night and all of Sunday off, so let’s have as much fun as possible before the real work begins.”
“Maybe in a month or two we’ll get that honeymoon,” Evan grinned.
“Hopefully sooner than that.”
∞∞∞
Dark clouds loomed above the palace Monday evening. Mid-winter was striking her ferocious claws as powder snow turned to bitter ice. The wind howled late into the night and the warmth of the festive season died.
Nath was sitting before the fire drinking whiskey and dreading tomorrow. “Dad’s calling in to give us a final briefing before they leave in the morning,” he said, followed by a weighty sigh.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Four days will pass like that,” Evan snapped his fingers, and plunged them into the sensitive muscles of Nath’s neck.
“I suppose. While they’re gone you should put forward the proposal on lifting the wilderness ban,” said Nath, smiling up at him with sparkly eyes.
“So I’m met with less opposition?” Evan laughed.
“No, because I thought you’d feel more confident doing it yourself,” said Nath. A loud knock at the door announced the arrival of the King. “Come in,” Nath called.
Elijah appeared in moments looking drained, still dressed in formal attire. “I don’t have long but I want to go over a few things with you both. Firstly, neither of you will be attending lessons while you’re regent, Nathaniel,” he said, eyes bouncing between them and settling on Nath. “We’ll be leaving at six-thirty and we’ll be back by three o’clock on Saturday afternoon.”
“Right, are there any meetings or events I need attend?” asked Nath, sinking back into his chair.
“Dinner with the Starstone’s. I’ve tied up as many loose ends as I can to take some of the pressure off, but Nathaniel, you’ll do fine. This is a chance to prove yourself,” said Elijah, eyebrows scrunched up his forehead, blue eyes boring into his son.
“Have you heard about Evan’s project?” asked Nath.
Elijah’s eyes slid back to him, an unreadable expression on his face, “I hear it has been well received during its petition stage. Are you pushing it further?”
Evan choked on anxiety which tasted of vinegar and self-doubt. “Yes. Hopeful
ly it’ll be a huge success.”
Elijah nodded, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to his son. “I’d prefer you avoid too much media attention, but if you comment on the current Dead Country situation, you’ll speak of optimism and certain success.”
“Yes,” said Nath.
“Now, I’ve duties to attend. I’ll see you in the morning,” Elijah said and left with a flourish.
Chapter 36
Dawn broke in streaks of teal and lime. Nath was restless and they braved the early morning to say goodbye to the King and Queen.
“Take care,” said Miriam, drawing them into her arms. “Both of you.”
“We’ll see you soon,” said Elijah, hugging Nathaniel and patting his back in the most fatherly gesture Evan had seen. Nath clung on a moment longer, and drew himself upright, face a mask of calmness.
They disappeared over the horizon in a carriage enchanted to appear as a mere traveler’s wagon. Dozens of cloaked guards flanked, whispering their way through the forest.
The breeze smelled of uncertainty and dewdrops.
Evan took Nath’s hand, and they returned to the palace in silence.
∞∞∞
Nothing felt different, at least by breakfast.
Instead of classes they ventured to their offices to work and evade the prying eyes of the journalists and gawking students.
Evan was summoned to a late lunch, glancing at the clock with surprise. He hadn't realised the hours pass.
“I’ve answered as many of Dad's invoices as possible and checked so many notes regarding international affairs I’ve lost my ability to think,” said Nath. “I’m sorry I’ve been quiet, forgive me.”
“Don’t sweat it, Nath. I’ve been working my ass off because I’m submitting the proposal this afternoon. Maybe we’ll have a response in a few days,” said Evan, trying to suppress his churning anxiety.
Nath looked up, eyes glittering with pride. “You’ve worked incredibly hard on this in such a short space of time.”
“I’ve lost sleep over it,” he admitted, gazing at the simmering fireplace. “I’ve included as much research and support as I can, and I think it stands a pretty good chance despite the attacks. There’s evidence to suggest integration could prevent them happening again as it builds trust, and the werewolves are given a chance to live like everyone else- at least the deserving ones.”