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Chapter Text

Christine is eight years old the first time she visits the court, at that moment the King is a cold young man with golden eyes. She looks at him for afar and counts the number of times the king’s eyes are looking for her. Her fear grows.

Christine is nine years old the first time the young king visits her family’s state and her parents entertain him with food and drink. They organize dances and plays, but she isn't fooled, she keeps her distance no matter what her mother says. She does not like the way he looks at her.

Christine is twelve years old when the king sends an invitation to her parents asking for her presence in the palace; it isn’t the first one, but now her parents don’t have an excuse to give. Her mother cries that night and Christine comforts her. It will be the last time with them.

Years pass and when Christine finds out that she is pregnant, she leaves. She doesn’t ask permission from the king, whom she no longer sees as regularly as before, nor does she notify the ministers. She doesn’t leave in secret, nor flee in terror. When Christine finds out that she is pregnant, she takes a breath, gathers the strength that has accumulated throughout all those years, and begins to pack. She chooses her maids and guards and then goes to the king.

“I’m pregnant,” she says knowing that the king doesn’t bear weeping babies. “I’m going to move to the northern zone, I’ll live in the mountains, I don’t want guards, I have mine, I don’t want maids, I have mine.”

"My son will be safer here”

“My child will be safe with me, besides another child could bring tension to the relationship you have with your wife”

“Do you do it for my own good?”

“For mine and my child’s”

Silence, and then:

“Do as you please, but remember that child is mine”

Christine doesn’t answer, busy as she is leaving, but even then she thinks ‘I’ll never let you have it’

In the Mountains, Christine is almost happy and when her son is five days old she receives the king’s letter congratulating her and urging her to return as soon as possible. That day Christine cries, not for the first time, but swearing to herself that it will be the last. Each day is a fight, each letter a reminder of the threat hanging over their heads, each message is a rock that undermines her security, but Christine looks at her son’s smile to gather strength. She writes long letters with excuses, she asks for favors that allow them to live far away.

She doesn’t give up.

Even as the flames lick the ceiling Christine doesn’t give up. Death is welcome if that means being away from that man. 

Chapter Text

I saw the sign stuck on a bulletin board in a disreputable inn.

“Attractive, agile, intelligent, open-minded, and multi-skilled young men are recruited to serve as bodyguards”

The ad seemed like a joke. A bad taste joke. 

And I was not the only one who thought about it, all those who had vandalized the sign filling it with insults, dirty drawings and spittle had also considered that the ad had no reason to be there. 

I asked the waitress.

“If it’s real?” She asked, directing her attention to the aforementioned sign. After a moment she shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been there for almost a year. Or more. I don’t remember.”

“And what, someone has gone to see what it is”

“If they have, I haven’t seen them return. Maybe they pay is good”

That said she left my dinner and went back to the kitchen. My dinner was a thick cream in which floated bits of what I expected to be meat, three tiny potatoes and a shredded carrot. For me it was the best meal I had eaten in weeks and the only one I could afford. I sat down and I ate it with all tranquility, devouring the piece of bread that came with it. When I had finished I cleaned the plate with my last piece of bread and took my drink all the way down. I was still hungry but that was not news. I had been starving for the past year.

Maybe the pay is good

I look at the ad again because I needed the money.

The announcement only included the name of an inn in the Duchy of Ulysses, which was five days away on horseback. On foot, it took me twice as long and by the time I arrived I had begun to curse my decision to go. My feet were almost broken and on two occasions someone had tried to rob me.

At the inn, they examined me carefully and then sent me to a big house on the outskirts of town. And when I say big, I mean BIG. Like a small palace with gardens, ponds, fences, trees and a huge gazebo in the front.

I arrived at the entrance and knocked; when a voice on the other side of the door asked me who I was, I answered:

“Ah, I came for the work… as a bodyguard”

There was a pause and then the door opened. I came face to face with two young guards, unusually attractive and athletic.

But what struck me most was their… uniform.

I call it uniform even though it was not exactly that. It looked like a uniform because it was the clothes worn by both guards, but it wasn’t a uniform that I’d seen before.

“The captain will come in a moment,” one of the guards told me and stood there, with his eyes straight ahead.

Both guards stood on either side of the open door, arms in the back, not looking at me.

I wanted to ask about his uniform, but it was the expression they both had of absolute and complete indifference that prevented me from speaking. If they had had an uncomfortable face, or their eyes had shown some sign of mockery, I would have said something stupid.

Because I am usually stupid.

But they seemed comfortable with their uniform, so I kept my mouth shut.

I didn’t know that this was the first test.

The captain was an older man, with long silver hair with a scar that crossed his mouth on the right side. He was tall, athletic and incredibly attractive. And he used the same uniform. 

I was beginning to understand why the ad included the “open-minded” thing.

The captain made me pass and took me through a luxurious room, a dining room, the kitchen and finally a studio. There he interrogated me about my age, my origins, my background and everything else. There was not much to say besides the fact that I was one of the many orphans under the reign of the Golden King. I had no family or prospects for the future.

“You could join the real army,“ he told me

“I could never serve a king who sleeps with children,” I said

There were thousands of questions, sometimes the same changing the words. You had to give a quick response because he didn’t allow you to think too much.

The interrogation also included questions about politics and philosophy. There were some that left me absolutely confused. I didn’t understand what my opinion had to do about the consequences of the overthrow of King Vennito three hundred years ago in a bodyguard job.

But I didn’t care. I knew how to read and although there were things I didn’t know, I wasn’t completely useless either. I answered each question frankly, even when I said: “I don’t know”.

I had nothing to lose.

That was the second test.

After hours of interrogation, they gave me food. Only that meal made up for the interview and the days trip. Chicken, salad, salsa, hot bread, tea, juice … I ate everything with a voracity that didn’t embarrass me.

Once I finished they told me there would be a combat test. No weapons. A way to test my skills.

My opponent was of my height and also wore the same uniform. By then it was too late to ask about that, but at least this time I could study it carefully under the excuse of combat.

The … uniform was black. It looked like a long dress with openings on the sides to facilitate movement. It had a high collar with long sleeves, although there was a section of transparent fabric just at the neckline. Above the cloth was a few leather straps that outlined the body at breast height, shoulders, and waist.

As I had said, it was long, so much that it reached to the feet, although if you saw it on its side it left in sight the shapely legs covered with black stockings.

And everyone was wearing heels. High heels.

“Are you ready?” my opponent asked me. I wanted to ask him the same thing because I was not sure he could fight in those heels, but I held back. Instead, I nodded and prepared to beat him up.

As I said, I’m usually stupid and cocksure.

Who would have thought that a guy in high heels would drag me down to the floor?

Not me, that’s for sure

Despite the beating, I was told that I could join the new candidates’ team. We were fifteen, and we were staying in an old barrack away from the main house.

We took philosophy and history classes because the young lord liked to chat and didn’t want ignorant people around him. We learn everything about the Duchy of Ulysses too. 

We trained every day wearing the uniform. Many made comments about it. On one or two occasions the matter got out of hand and a few recruits ended up leaving.

Time passed. I became excellent at fighting in heels even though the suit still bothered me. The worst was the cold. During the winter we couldn’t change so we had to get used to the cold in those clothes.

We finished our preparation and we integrated to the guard of the house. Actually, we weren’t guards, in front of the public we were all “companions”, in parties we worked as maids, we served drinks and sandwiches; If we went out we would as bodyguards but we also were the little lord’s butlers.

I saw him only a couple of times. The last time I had to accompany him to take tea in the gazebo, I was amazed at how beautiful he was and so young. He chatted with me for hours. Even asked me for the uniform. 

“I have no problems with it,” I said “But I still do not understand why. Why use it? The guests think that we are just cute helpers, but we train night and day. For what? Why?”

The young lord smiled at me and for a moment I feared that my answer would sound like a complaint. I liked the job, despite the uniform. It was simple. I had a place to live and all the food I want.

I didn’t want to go.

A few days later the captain called me to his office and told me that I had passed the last test. Then he told me the truth about everything.

Now I know. I know “why”.

Now I use the uniform with pride because I also want a different future. A new king.

Chapter Text

Due to his condition Dandelion has been forced to spend much of his life in bed.

Although the salty climate of the coast helps him to breathe and soothes his tired lungs, they have forbidden him to leave his room, so he spends day and night there, surrounded by books, with the open window from where he can see the sky of a crystal blue. Theo sits with him to read.

All are stories of princes and princesses, of love and courage. His imagination allows him to transport himself beyond the four walls that surround him. His imagination leads him to gallop on dragons, to hunt wild beasts that threaten his people.

But the scenes that manage to make a hole in his heart, the images that make a dent in him and shake his world are not fictions that his mind creates. They are events that occur in real life and make him feel immense, full of energy and happiness. Among those what remember most are the meetings with his brother Wolfgang.

His brother who is the sun, who shines and laughs with overwhelming security. Wolfgang who is good, noble and humble.

His brother is everything he has always wanted. He has everything he aspires to have: strength, will, skill, energy. During his first years in the palace, Dandelion will spend a lot of time by Wolfgang’ side, they will have breakfast together, they will go out riding from time to time, they will study in long lazy afternoons. It will be those memories that Dandelion will treasure for a long time and that will allow him to endure the years after Shin’s imprisonment.

It is this event that will mark a remoteness in Wolfgang. Yes, Wolfgang will continue spending time with him, but slowly the breakfasts will begin to spread, the wanderings will become sporadic, and Dandelion will come across with the same excuses: HIs brother has gone to train. He has gone to visit Sys. He is studying. He is not anywhere to be found.

Only then will Dandelion realize that his life in the palace had revolved around his brother, he was the only light and happiness he could find in the walls covered with gold and silk in the absence of Theo. When Wolfgang stops having time for him, Dandelion goes to others looking for the same consolation, without success.

None of his other brothers has time for him, none of them wants to meet him. The family, which Dandelion had so longed for, is nowhere to be found.

The only one he has never approached is the king, at first because his mere presence mutes him. Because his father imposes so much respect that Dandelion cannot imagine opening his mouth in front of him. It is also because Wolfgang does not support that his name is pronounced in his presence, so Dandelion avoids it.

But when Wolfgang leaves, Dandelion begins to wonder if his father will not be the missing piece in his life.

And Dandelion, precious and small, innocent and dazzling, decides that he has to find out.

Chapter Text

In front of the window that looks west, Theo watches the sky darken.

Inside the room, the shadows lengthen disguising the world. Theo walks slowly to the sofa, where Dandelion sleeps with the History’s book between his arms. Carefully, Theo removes the book and puts a blanket on him.

Despite the shadows covering the chamber, the prince’s body shines by himself. His golden hair and his lily skin highlight over the dark blanket. Theo watches him and remembers how small he used to be. How fragile he is still.

His mother died before he had the age to remember her and the only faces he knows are the servants who work for the crown.

Do I look like my father?

The question bothers him. They hardly receiving the king’s message when Dandelion started with the questions: How are we going to travel? When are going to leave? How much will take to arrive at the castle?

It didn’t matter Theo didn’t have the answer to any of those, Dandelion continued asking and wondering. His curiosity had not limited and his desire to know more about his family acquired a new resolution.

So, Theo had lied. He had lied before.

How is my father? He is a great king. A powerful and splendorous king.

How are my brothers? They are alike. All of them are like you. The same hair and eyes. The same beauty. They will be great princes full of kindness and bigheartedness.

How is the palace? Huge packed with laugh and wonderful things.

Theo has lied for many years, every lie is a delicate piece in the intricate bubble in which Dandelion lives, the bubble that Theo has been building to protect him from his illness, his isolation, and his abandonment.

And now the bubble will face the ultimate test. It will face the tip of a spear known as reality. And Theo is afraid. He fears that his child will be crushed by the life in an unjust court, afraid that his brothers will turn their backs on him, fear that those brothers are equal to his father, fear that the king is the image that rumors have spread.

In less than a month they will be arriving at the palace, in less than a month Dandelion will meet his family. And Theo just wants his child to survive in the jaws of his perversity.

“I’ll take care of you” he promises that night while Dandelion sleeps, “I’ll never let them hurt you” he swears to himself while the moon rises inclement and cold.

And even he does not know what he will be willing to do to fulfill that promise.

Chapter Text

Changes in the court are subtle, and only those who frequent the meetings, the dances, and the dinners are witnesses of this.

At first, everything is happiness, there was no greater hobby than to talk about the handsome young king who ascended the throne so quickly. His beauty, his elegance, his magnificent eyes. He possesses an iron temperament, and in the first years of his reign, he will fortify the frontiers, expanded his lands and got the wealth to begin to flow.

And then the rumors will start. At first, you will regard them as the despicable response of the king’s enemies. Obscene whining, disgusting chimes, and murmurs of repudiation. 

At first, they are just that. Rumors are like rotten eggs. They smell terrible the first time you meet one, they disgust you, but eventually, you get used to it. Your nose stops noticing. Your ears stop listening.

The power of the king increases, the kingdom grows, the allies do it, the enemies begin to fall one after the other until there is no one who threatens the prosperity that the kingdom has so longed for.

But the rumors continue. And then you discover that they are stems of a bad plant, which spread out and nest in the dark corners. You can cut the ends, but they are born again and continue to grow.

And when you follow the branches you find the origin.

The witnesses, the victims, begin to accumulate like dead leaves that can no longer be hidden. And the voices rise. The indignation begins to boil, the protests want to germinate, and when the first of them manages to materialize the plant chokes him without hesitation

Then you realize that the plant has spread around you, you live with it and it feeds on you, and when you try to free yourself, when you try to flee she tightens its stems around you until your body can not fight.

Then comes the fear, the terror of dying if you move, if you raise your voice and try to warn the rest of the monster that lives with you. Then comes the custom because as long as you do not touch it the plant does not cause you harm, the plant feeds you, takes care of you and keeps you safe. And finally comes blindness, when the plant kills you turn your eyes and let it live.

And eventually, you will find children to give it. Beautiful and innocent children. And you will put a nice black coat on them so no one touches the plant’s food.

It will keep growing. 

And when will it stop?