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Chapter Text

In a stately seaside summer palace there lived a young prince, and at his side served an exclusive and elite force of guards whose lives were dedicated to the protection of three simple things: the prince’s life, his identity, and his chastity. 

One such guard was one Leon Strohl da Haliaetus, a ripe young alpha of landed nobility. His clan were those whose riches came from modest industry such as farming. Their spoils were shared with the humble men and women who worked the land, and their comforts were meager in comparison with those clans whose wealth and prestige came from the generational passing of revered titles and ancient artifacts. 

Now, it was precisely for this humility that the house of Halia was bestowed a duty most sacred. The king of twelve generations ago, to be exact, supped and made friends of the Count of Halia in that time, and the good count’s reward was the precious responsibility of guarding the king’s omega heirs, of which there were historically many. Kings sow many seeds in hopes of establishing a line everlasting. It was only until recent times such as theirs that the royal garden had dwindled in its bounty, and their most contemporary king, the late Hythlodaeus V, bore only one child, who most fortunately for Strohl, was an omega.

As for our earnest Leon Strohl, he was an alpha of two and twenty, a tall and healthy clemar, with a neat head of shimmering silver hair parted by the petite curved horns typical of his family. He had the advantages of a handsome face and an amiable demeanor. His most notable vices were his hot temperament and stubborn pride. Strohl lacked the filter that many wise men possessed, which enervated the indelicate aspects of their thoughts before they were spoken, and he had found himself in trouble more than once on account of this foible. 

Nonetheless, he was raised well by his parents, who loved him and instilled in him a most pronounced moral compass and virtue. He was taught to be abundant in charity, willful in action, and of course, reverent and respectful of the omega sex. His parents indeed asked not much of him, besides upholding his oath to the crown and mating well and respectfully. 

There entered Euchronia’s new heir apparent, the lovely Prince Will, who was Strohl’s purpose as much as he was his weakness. 

Now, it must be noted that Strohl never entered the service of His Highness with any intention to lust for or covet him. He could not have predicted any of what would transpire after his arrival at the palace, for he had not even known how the prince looked, just as none of the constituents of Euchronia did. The appearance of the omega prince was kept secret from all, for his beauty was an elusive treasure that was only bestowed upon subjects deemed the most worthy. This was chiefly done for his protection, though a keen man would rightly deduce that maintaining a certain air of mystique was also a motivation. 

Strohl still recalled the first day he ever beheld him. The whole carriage ride from his country village to the coast, his heart had hammered like a hummingbird’s wings, and he tried to no avail to steel himself to be granted the most prestigious honor in the land.

All of that fitful preparedness mattered not at all as he stood in the courtyard and Will stepped out of the shadows of the arched walkway and into the light of the sun. He still wore the black clothes of mourning on account of his sire’s passing, yet Strohl thought him to be the most radiant thing he had ever seen. It was the feeling of the sun breaking through the storm bank for the first time after a long torrent of rain, when all the earth beckons for the safety of its embrace. 

That was just Will. He was all that an omega should be. His moonpale eyes were big and batting, his hips wide and suggestive, his voice sweet like honeyed butter. His burnished limbs were smooth and petite, and his words eloquent and careful. And his scent… 

His scent was of honey and seabreeze, of damp delicate flower petals, and the saccharinity of overripe fruit. It was an aroma that was so unassuming at first, but then crept up on the senses until they were full of nothing but. 

Now, Strohl knew better than to reduce an omega to their sexual traits. His parents taught him better than that. Realistically, he knew that what makes an omega is beyond their superficial appearance and demeanor. Perhaps he would have called himself a fool, were it not for the fact that Will’s innate traits also made him an exemplar of his biology. 

He was quiet and coy, but not overtly so. He was neither cloying nor airheaded. He knew how to hold himself, how to reply, to maintain an air of mystique yet make known his intellect. He knew how to appeal to those baser alpha instincts while retaining this sense of self that was so uniquely his. 

Strohl often looked at him and wondered how he could be so, how someone so lovely and charming could be real, let alone his crown prince and his liege. The sentiment remained unchanged from the day he first arrived: the surreal acceptance that he, by consequence, was among the luckiest alphas in Euchronia. 

The prince’s guard was comprised of eleven alphas, including himself. One would perhaps find it contradictory that the keepers of an omega’s chastity were of the very same sex that was at the most risk of destroying him. Strohl himself questioned this when he was a pup, but it was as his father explained: The prince’s wardens were carefully selected of the stronger sex to guard him to the fullest. Omegas in close proximity, you see, often resort to jealous rivalry and hormonal bickering, Alphas, carnal as they may be at times, will always be predisposed to being protective of their fairer counterparts. 

This privilege did not come without its demands, however. One of the stipulations, Strohl knew even before his arrival, was that his scent and cycle were both to be suppressed. This was for the prince’s protection and none else. 

Generations of societal precedent were at play here. The prince himself was not to be suppressed, for archaic beliefs stated that to suppress an omega of such purity would be to sully and even potentially damage his innocent fertility. 

His alpha protectors, however, were seen as having no such need for caution. If one were to stand outside the prince’s door at all times, even as he himself was in the throes of heat, one must be willing to sacrifice their bodily zodiacs. 

For those reasons previously discussed, the young Strohl had been priming himself for this sacrifice for the better part of his life. Because he knew that—should he be so lucky to be called upon one day—he must relinquish this habit, he was prepared when the day finally arrived.

Or so he thought. 

Since he arrived, Strohl was in the tutelage of an elder rhoag alpha named Grius who had been in the service of the crown for nigh on five and twenty years. As the last addition to the other ten, Strohl, the rhoag, had said, had a lot to learn fast, and he was quite thrust into it before he hardly had the chance to set his luggage in his room. 

If Strohl were being honest, Grius frightened him at first, but his stern wisdom was the sort that you slowly began to understand for what it was. He may have hurled insults like it was second nature and convinced Strohl of his worthlessness on more than one occasion, he was also strangely nurturing and patient. Strohl saw him as a second father of sorts, one who was much sterner than his own, yet was all the more effective in his meaning for it. 

Strohl learned the fundamentals of swordplay and survival. They all were taught how to navigate the worst possible scenarios. Should they ever be stranded in the wilderness with His Highness and surrounded by throngs of enemies, it was their job to defend him, while also keeping their wits about themselves. 

Grius was also helpful when it came to those less savory parts of the task. One of the first things Strohl did upon his arrival was swallow an unsavory cup of water that was mixed with a bitter concoction of herbs that were to cease his ruts. 

“Now, I don’t relish discussing such matters, private as they are, but there are things you must be ever-aware of, boy, so listen up,” the rhoag had said as Strohl grimaced at the taste in his mouth. “You’re a young man. Alphas at your age think with their cocks first and their brains second. I know this because I, too, was your age once, but the importance of you reining it in is more serious than ever.” 

Strohl frowned but listened as Grius continued, “What you’re drinking is no surefire prevention against you doing something stupid, and you may very well want to, looking at a pretty one like His Highness day in and day out. But hear these words now: You must not ever, ever , touch him, not even if he begs you for it at peril of his own life.” 

The clemar flushed at the subject but nodded. Grius frowned scrutinously at him. “You and I, we must convince ourselves that we are mere bugs at his feet. We would never be worthy of such a thing. Would be no different than dirtying your mate’s fine lace doily with your greasy fingers. Do not touch it. Don’t even think about it. You have those type o’ fantasies, erase them immediately. To entertain it is just as insulting to His Highness.” 

After he finished, the rhoag heaved a tired sigh and crossed his arms. “On the contrary, though, we must never blind ourselves to the fact that His Highness, too, is a young man who has his own impulses. The good people may loft him up to be some virtuous celibate saint, but true as the moon, he is just a boy, an omega, and he wants, just as everyone else does; but he does not have the privilege we do. His hormones are rampant and very much present. Remember that your proximity is just as hard, if not harder, for him.” 

The friendly slap Grius landed on his shoulder jostled him. “Not to worry, though, lad. I’m sure Count Louis will take care of those more…impassioned tendencies of his, for better or for worse.” 

Strohl frowned. “Who is Count Louis?” 

“Oho! So you’re unfamiliar with the devil, then, are you? Well, how does one even describe the lad? The newly titled Count Louis Guiabern…”

In the brief respites he was afforded in between Grius’s stern tutelage and following Will in his daily routines about the palace, Strohl relished the rare and intimate moments where he was afforded the privilege of glimpsing Will as he really was, not as the crown prince. 

Moments in which Will messily ate apples as he read while walking, uncaring of how improper it was to put his sticky fingers near the pages, or when he would steal an extra piece of cheese when his tutors’ eyes were distracted, and he would wink at Strohl, whose eyes caught his, as he chewed. Moments like when Will would oil his flawless limbs and lean back in the sun’s rays with an elongated sigh, the scorching light reflecting off him like newly polished wet gold, and Strohl was the hopeless plunderer whose gaze was ensnared by the treasures that he beheld.  

It was nothing, those moments, nothing more than trivial and insignificant musings over profoundly mortal behavior displayed by a man who was meant to appear the opposite, but to Strohl, it was something sacred. 

It all changed one summer afternoon, and for Strohl, it was for the worse. 

For our sweet prince, however…

“Aurissia! Where is my violet wrap?” the prince called over his shoulder. Strewn across his bed was a whirlwind of garments that were removed from his wardrobe as he ransacked it while deciding what to wear for the occasion. 

The prince’s omegas-in-waiting were scurrying to and fro in a manic haste to pick up behind him. Aurissia, the plain-faced and frenetic beta in question, stopped and wrung her hands. “It is being tailored, Your Highness! Your hips grew two inches since you last wore it!” 

Will turned a few times aimlessly as his eyes raked over the selection. He ruffled his half-styled hair and groaned. “We don’t have time for this. We’ll go with the white, then!” He tugged free the long drape of muslin from the pile. “Pin me quickly. Where is Minerva? I want the circlet woven into my hair this time…” 

No sooner did the heralds announce the arrival of the caravan did Will burst from his room, still chewing his pudding as he sprinted across the marbled floors as quickly as his satin-slippered feet would carry him. 

“Your Highness!” Aurissia called after him woefully. She chased him down with her skirts bunched in her hands. “You mustn't run! It’s unseemly! Think of your hair! Oh,” she moaned, stamping her foot in exasperation before hurrying after him with renewed vigor. 

As Will tossed off the pesky slipper that had been giving him so much trouble, Louis arrived in a parade of coaches. 

The sun beat down above the guard as they stood in a stoic line along the topmost stair of the palace awaiting the return of the prince’s childhood friend. Will arrived at the center, a  breathless vision of tan limbs wrapped in a sheer tunic of white. A large ornamental sapphire pinned the fabric together just below his navel, a focal point at the center of a flat, glistening abdomen and a narrow waist. 

The convoy ground to a halt. After a moment’s bustle, the door of the leading coach swung open, and out stepped Louis. 

He wore the garb of a war hero: tight eggshell breeches, a long flowing overcoat, high ivory boots, and a high-buttoned blouse. His long cascade of golden curls swung down his pinstraight back, and his austere features were set hard in a pursed expression of selective disinterest. The royal omega waiting maids whispered and barely stifled their salacious giggles.  

The prince wasted not a moment before he sprung forward down the steps and cried, “Louis!” and he flew into the alpha’s arms. 

With a surprised chuckle the other elda drew him into his embrace, and it was only after Hulkenberg cried,” Your Highness !” in an affronted and embarrassed tone that Will drew back. Around them the others present muttered in quiet scandal. 

Will noticed himself and blushed, but only faintly. He stepped back from Louis before he looked up at him and said, “Sorry. I just missed you.” 

The blond smiled faintly though fondly in return. “I have missed you as well.” He leaned down to compensate for the sizable difference in their heights to whisper, “But we must remember ourselves now, for you are no longer the wide-eyed pup I left behind, are you?” He smiled as he drew back with a light brush to Will’s chin, a gesture that aroused even more scandal among those gathered. “Your scent has blossomed.” 

The young alpha count bowed deeply and said, “Your Highness.” Will relieved him with warm cheeks and a restless step. When Louis was standing once again, he offered the prince his elbow, and it was taken with an eager giggle. 

Strohl should have noticed, then, how inappropriate their relationship was, and how Louis inexplicably pushed the boundaries of propriety, and of how willing the young Will was to succumb. Their scandalous reunion boded ominously what was to come, but at the time, Strohl was much too taken by Will and too premature in his opinion of Louis to formulate the thought. 

It was relayed to him as thus: Louis was the childhood friend of the prince, who spent the formative years of his childhood in the eldan sanctum, where Louis was born. There, they developed an unshakable bond, one that was only strengthened when the forest hideaway succumbed to flames.

Of this event Strohl was aware, for it was a gruesome demonstrative tale told to children to warn them of the wickedness of the elda. Of course, when Strohl was first told it, he had not known the prince to be an elda himself , but that was neither here nor there. 

Whether it was an assassination plot or an act of hatred few knew. Regardless, the forest sanctuary was no more, and after its destruction, His Highness was taken to live in the summer palace at the coast, where he brought Louis as the last vestige of his childhood home, and as his dearest companion. 

Louis, an orphan, was sponsored by the noble family Guiabern, who perhaps saw an advantage in his prospects as an alpha or in his closeness with the prince. Louis enlisted in the army to earn his keep, but for all intents and purposes, he was brought up at court, where his bond with Will grew yet stronger. 

The following details are where recollections vary. The indubitable fact was that Louis presented first, he being more than five years the prince’s senior, and his newfound role as an alpha complicated opinions of his relationship with Will, who was all but fated to one day present as an omega. 

It was largely believed that Louis’s biology, his prodigality in military merit, and the easy assumption that he would become king consort if his bond with Will were to persist that led to his damnation. When Louis was seventeen, His Majesty—at the advisement of Sanctifex Forden—enlisted an elite troop of soldiers to quell unrest in the mountain villages of Montario. This garrison was designed to be led by Louis. 

For nearly a decade past, Louis was away, and in that time Will came into himself. At sixteen he presented to histrionic affair, and two years later, the king succumbed to madness borne from heartbreak. 

Over the course of these years, it was said that the elda count and the prince exchanged many fond letters. Some undoubtedly wished for Louis to perish, but he persisted. Though distance was forced between them, the likely couple nurtured and developed their bond. 

Thus arrived the present day. With Will made heir apparent, Strohl was summoned to the palace to fulfill his duties, and Louis made his triumphant return after eliminating every threat to the crown from here to Altabury. 

Strohl could neither shake his unease nor his jealousy as he trailed behind them as they entered the palace, Will still wound around Louis’s arm and giggling up at him as he spoke. It was obscenely improper, not only because Will was, well, the prince , but because he was an unmated omega who had not received a formal declaration intention from the alpha who seemed not only to disregard the behavior, but revel in it. On either side obsequious courtiers and hopefuls swarmed them and offered Louis any and all favors at their disposal: opera tickets, horses, fine hunting wear, and tokens made of gold. They were ignored by both prince and suitor. 

Then, the pair stopped, causing a sudden jilt among the procession behind. Louis had apparently ceased his walking because he was perturbed by something, and Strohl watched in all degrees of horror as the alpha elda raised his hand and with his thumb brushed away a small smear of cream that yet clung to the corner of Will’s mouth. He summarily brought it to his lips and licked it clean with a thoughtful hum. 

“Custard?” he asked with light amusement, his blue eyes low and glimmering. 

Will’s warm cheeks swelled with a sheepish smile. “I had a snack.” The prince lowered his eyes and appeared to hesitate before raising his hand so that he may reverently trace over the medal pinned to Louis’s breast. He looked at it mournfully for a moment before his eyes once again rose to meet the other elda’s. They were sad. 

“I wish that we didn’t have to be followed like this.” The omega said this quietly, his face strategically shielded from their onlookers by Louis’s chest. “I want to be alone with you—like we used to,” he quickly added as an important afterthought. 

“A most gracious clarification,” the alpha laughed. His eyes raked over the features of Will’s face, sending a flurry of butterflies flying within the omega’s chest. “Here, for a moment, I feared for your virtue , Your Highness.” 

With a playful grimace Will slapped the blond’s chest. “Not funny.” 

Louis brought Will’s hand to his mouth, and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, said, “I wish for that as well.” 

The arrival of the sanctifex brought an end to their tender reunion. There was no herald to announce him, for he was in his own palace. Those gathered were too preoccupied by the uncomfortable concupiscence that was transpiring to notice, and they were hasty to remedy their insolence by bowing their heads at breakneck pace. 

Forden raised his right hand to still his entourage, and he stopped a few feet away from the prince and the homecomer. Louis and Will both paid their obeisance. 

“At last, the good Count Louis has returned to us from the horrors of the battlefield,” Forden acknowledged. As was usual, his countenance was severe and studious. “How fine it is to see that you are well.” 

Louis righted himself, and his smile was cool but impish. “Your Eminence—or, shall I say ‘Your Majesty’ now? You must forgive me.” He chuckled, waving his hands as if to complement his apology. “It is quite hard to keep track after all these years away from court affairs.” 

“Indeed,” the rhoag sneered, his moonpale eyes raking over Louis with discernible distaste.

This, of course, was Strohl’s first time observing the two interact, and he found himself in as much shock as he did perplexity. You see, even after learning of Forden’s purported role in sending Louis away, Strohl had little reason to see Forden as a bad man. For Strohl’s part, he saw the rhoag as a worried father figure doing what he could to protect the kingdom’s sacred jewel. Indeed, from Strohl’s perspective, Louis was an impertinent upstart crossing boundaries that were not his to trespass. 

Since the blond’s arrival, he had done nothing but engage in improper behavior with His Highness and show cavalier disregard toward the palace staff and courtiers. Strohl had no reason to favor him over Forden, a man who had proven his merit through decades of service to church and crown. 

“Well,” the sanctifex sighed at last, “you are here, and your service shan’t go unrecognized. We shall toast tonight at dinner in your honor, Louis.” 

And as though the impertinence had never happened, Louis transitioned with ease into humility and gratefulness. “I am most humbly grateful, Your Eminence.”

After a moment, Forden sighed emphatically. “Well, Count Louis has fared far to join us here in the palace. He is certainly fatigued.” Louis’s objection on the contrary was promptly overridden as the rhoag continued, “We shall let him retire and freshen up ourselves before availing ourselves of dinner. Come now, Will.” The elderly beta beckoned Will into his outstretched arm. “You’ve lessons to finish yet, haven’t you?” 

The prince followed, though not without casting a crestfallen glance over his shoulder in Louis’s direction. Strohl watched as the alpha’s features softened, and he gave Will an encouraging nod. The young elda’s sadness transformed into a smile, and his face was all warmth as he turned around and went on his way with Forden.  

Although some lingered to seek Louis’s favor, most dispersed, having found the intrigue lessened with the prince’s departure. Once they all left, Strohl and the others in the prince’s guard were alone with the alpha count, who smoothed out his clothing with pursed lips. 

Though Louis thus far had not impressed Strohl, he still knew his duties, and he forced a smile meant to serve as an olive branch. “Would you like me to show you to your rooms, my lord?”

Strohl never could have imagined the utter disdain with which Louis looked at him for the first time. 

The elda turned, studied Strohl for a moment, and with a sneer said, “So, Forden has enlisted a pup to safeguard the future of the country.” He snorted under his breath. “I am away for not even a decade, and already we have descended into lunacy.” 

To say the least, Strohl was aghast. 

“ Excuse me ?” the alpha guardsman scoffed. 

But the alpha elda merely turned up his nose, smirked, and said, “I don’t need to be shown the way. This was once my home.” Without another word, he turned and made on his way. 

Irascible, Strohl lurched forward to follow the elda, but Hulkenberg stopped him. “Don’t,” she said firmly. “He’s not worth it, and the price for engaging him is far more than you can afford to pay. You must remember your duty.” 

Strohl frowned as he looked at the other alpha. He glanced back at Louis’s retreating form and huffed. He had never been fond of those who feel that their status gave them carte blanche to act as they pleased at the expense of others. “My anger is not for my pride alone. His behavior with the prince was unacceptable!” he hissed. 

“I know,” Hulkenberg said quickly. Her voice was low and grave. She watched Louis, too. “Come. Let us discuss this in private.” 

Back in the guard’s quarters, Hulkenberg poured them both a cup of ale. Grius was there, too, smoking his pipe on a stool.

“He’s always been like this, then?” Strohl questioned the other two alphas. “That…Louis.”

Grius hummed and chuckled dourly, smoke languidly curling before his chapped mauve lips. “Testing the very boundaries of propriety and then some, that one. He’s a shameless fiend, one who only gets away wi’ it ‘cause of the princeling’s fondness for him.” 

Strohl worried one of the grapes on the small wooden plate before him. “I’m going to assume that the sanctifex sent him away for more than one reason, then.” 

Hulkenberg nodded gravely. “All of us, His Eminence included, knew that His Highness would be at great risk were he to present in proximity to Louis. Removing him from the prince’s life while his body embraced his biology was of paramount importance to all of us sworn to protect him.” 

“But we cannae protect the prince forever.” Grius shook his head, his one-eyed gaze distant and contemplative. “Nor had we the capacity to prevent them from nurturing their affection through letters. For a while, aye, we had Louis’s intercepted, but he found a way around it, the crafty bastard.” 

Strohl’s lips trembled. “And now, Will is an omega.” 

“An unmated and naive omega at that,” said Grius. “One who is quite eager to fulfill the more natural aspects of his duty and has his sights on just the alpha to do it wi’.”

Strohl stood so abruptly, he jostled the table and sent their drinks sloshing. His features were adamant. “Well, we have to stop it!” he cried. “We cannot allow such a match. It’s our duty to stop it, is it not?” 

The roussainte scoffed and grinned in bemusement. “Well, it is hardly that simple, is it? Louis has many advantages in resources over us, not to mention, one of them being Will’s special protection. If His Highness knew we were plotting against him, he would surely interpret that to be a most grave affront.”

“I don’t care.” Strohl shook his head. “He is my prince. If we must give him away, it should be to an alpha who cherishes him, who respects him before strangers and kin, not some, some lecherous villain!” 

The other guards groaned. Grius was the first to speak. “Lad, you’re doing exactly what I warned ye against.” 

Hulkenberg nodded passionately. “You mustn’t, mustn’t ever , think of His Highness through the eyes of an alpha. What you speak is an alpha’s consideration for his fairer counterpart, and there’s no mistaking that. Quit these feelings now.” When Strohl tried to argue, she interrupted more firmly, “You must.” 

Grius laughed. “Dinnae worry, lad. The potions are still settling into your veins. Before long, you’ll lose those senses. Till then ye must try to keep a lid on it, mm?” The rhoag punched his arm. Perhaps he meant it as a brotherly admonishment, but it hardly felt like it. Strohl pouted and rubbed his tender flesh. 

“So we’re to watch?” he challenged defeatedly. 

Hulkenberg crossed her arms and smirked. “Well, you are, tonight. You and Alphons are on door duty.” 

Strohl hated “door duty,” as the guard called it, which entailed bordering the prince’s bedchamber doors on either side while he was inside. It was a mantle most insulting and trying to an alpha’s senses, being made to stand idly near an omega in their private apartments, but it was also boring . His second night here, Strohl was on door duty, and more than once he nearly fell asleep on his feet. Two hours after midnight he even dropped his spear, and the shame he felt over the thunderous noise it made as it hit the floor was so potent that he struggled no more. 

Thankfully, it was daylight this time when he arrived, and he assumed position on the right, his posture as erect as the spear he held against the floor. 

He remained like this for a while, stifling his sniffs and shifting as subtly as he could so that his knees did not seize, until something most unusual happened. Aurissia, the prince’s waiting maid, flung open the doors flushed and breathless. She looked back and forth at the two alphas until settling on Strohl, and she said, “You, come with me.” 

Strohl’s brows shot up into his hairline, and he blinked and looked haplessly between the beta and the nonexistent person beside him. “Me?” he questioned dumbly. 

The beta huffed and grabbed his wrist. “Yes, you ,” she groaned. “Come in here. His Highness requires assistance. Don’t fret yourself over it, he’s decent,” she promised. 

Though conflicted and panicked, to say the least, Strohl followed, for he told himself that a direct request from the prince superseded his routine duties, even if he could not shake the feeling that he was doing something most improper. 

Aurissia had said Will was “decent,” but decent is largely a subjective term, especially when one considers the standard omega fashion of the time. Sometimes, looking at Will as liked to dress, Strohl wondered whether it would be easier seeing him actually bare. 

The omega was seated on the stool of his vanity, leaned onto his elbows upon it as he smeared a sheer clear balm across his lips. His eyes were accented by a thin border of pigment, but those were the only adornments on his face, were one not to count the pearl and diamond circlet which hung high at the center of his forehead. His hair, which was just longer than his shoulders, was delicately curled into sweet-smelling snowy strands.

Omega fashion in their contemporary culture was designed to cater to an alpha’s instincts. The silhouettes were simple, the fabric scant, and the coverage overall sparse, the culmination of which lent to a most liberal style. Omegas of all sexes seldom wore trousers. Their thighs were typically bare, as Will’s were, and their necklines low, as to reveal that place which was smooth yet longed to be bitten. 

Will wore white. The base layer on his torso, a long-sleeved, caped blouse of the sheerest muslin, was covered by an undone corset. Between its wayward laces Strohl was treated with the sight of his honeyed skin, peeking out between triangles of satin down his smooth spine. Below he wore white bloomers. His only other clothing were the sheer ivory stockings that trapped his soft thighs that were only made softer as they spread under his weight.  

“Strohl,” the elda greeted the alpha’s reflection in the mirror before him. His eyes creased with a smile as he dipped his fingers into an ornate jar on the vanity. He began rubbing the balm in delicate circles along his collarbone and neck, as to amplify his scent. For good measure, he massaged the rest into the valley at the center of his breast. His skin was left kissed by a sheen. 

“If we use this one, Your Highness, it will be most pleasing to the count’s nose,” one of the maids offered, raising a similar pink jar. 

Will merely shook his head and smiled. “No, thank you. Louis favors my natural scent,” he added with an air of smugness. 

“And pearls?” another maid asked with a knowing smile, holding a string of said gem over Will’s neck as he stood behind. He lowered and fastened them when Will chuckled, nodded, and agreed, “Yes, the more pearls the better.” 

Strohl shifted uncomfortably, and he glanced at Aurissia, whom he hoped would alleviate his confusion as to why he was here. 

“I need to be laced in, but our collective strength isn’t cutting it,” the omega chuckled as he stood, gathering his cape, “so I said, ‘Why don’t we bring in a little more muscle?’ And, fortunately for me, I have two strong alphas just outside the door at all times.” He giggled. 

It was not until the prince was before him facing away, holding his hair to the side and his hem in the other hand, that it settled just what was being asked of Strohl, and with a nervous laugh he held up his hands and shook his head. His face was scarlet. “Oh, I don’t know that I should—”

“It’s fine,” Will reassured. Strohl could tell that he was smiling, though the alpha could not see his face. “You have my express permission,” he added wryly. 

Even so , Strohl wanted to protest. It was impossible: touching, even inadvertently, an unmated omega of such quality, let alone the crown prince, felt tantamount to smearing dirt on the first scripture. The very thought of it made him as nauseous as it did thrill the baser part of his brain. It was only natural to be enticed to do something the more illicit it was made out to be, but in matters concerning his prince, everything felt much more severe. 

He cleared his throat, for he found it suddenly arid, and raised his shaky hands. At some point Aurissia relieved him of his spear, though he did not even remember it happening. Strohl had never laced a corset before, but he had seen his mother do it while playing with his toys on the floor of her room as a child. He knew the way in theory.

Doing his utmost to not graze Will’s body in the process, he gathered the delicate ribbon into his hands and pulled it toward him. Those taunting little slivers of Will’s skin disappeared as the seam closed. The omega exhaled softly and relaxed his shoulders, a silent prayer for Strohl to continue. He mustered what courage he could find and pulled tighter yet. 

“As tight as you can,” Will advised. “Don’t worry about hurting me. I’m quite hardy, despite how I look.” 

Strohl laughed at that, then cleared his throat and focused when he felt eyes on him. He knit his brow as he took the strings closer to Will’s body, so that he may have more leverage, and with careful diligence he pulled them tauter and tauter until Will’s waist seemed hardly wider than his own thigh. When Will finally breathed again, it was all but a groan. 

“Tie it off?” he requested. Strohl began to, but the maids descended; and he stepped back, finding that his duty had been done. 

When they were finished Will turned and faced him. He smiled sheepishly and let his arms fall to his sides. “Well? How do I look? Alpha’s opinion?”

Strohl glanced once nervously at Aurissia before nodding and raising his thumb pitifully. “You look…good. Great.” 

“‘Good,’” the prince repeated. His eyes shone with mirth, but something else, too, perhaps. Strohl did not have the chance to ponder it, for Aurissia was smoothing out his fabrics and sighing with the pride and satisfaction of a matron. 

“Oh!” She clapped her hands together and beamed. “Count Louis will just die when he sees you!” 

Just as easily as it came, Strohl’s smile faded. That’s right. Count Louis…

Strohl entered the dining hall, a dead man walking, his nerves shaken and his nose filled with Will’s scent, no matter how hard he fought to dispel it. Even his fingertips felt the phantom touch of Will’s warm skin, and they burned where they gripped his spear as he fell into line behind Hulkenberg. He and the other prince’s guards stood against the leftmost wall, where they had both an unobstructed view of the high table and the hall where the guests sat. Only Grius was absent, for he was to be Will’s escort this evening. 

He could not help but look at Louis, who was seated at the honorary table, separated from Forden only by Will’s vacant chair. The alpha sipped wine and sat leisurely, while Strohl was treated with all manner of omega whispers in his tribute. 

“He is an unimaginable picture of grace and beauty,” one courtier marveled at a nearby table. Her male companion at her right raised his eyes over the rim of his chalice and glanced obviously in Louis’s direction. “He is certainly the most eligible alpha in this room.” 

“And a newly minted war hero, nonetheless…” 

“Oh, he is a credit to his new title!” 

An elongated sigh. “What I wouldn’t give for a night as the subject of his cruel gaze…” 

Strohl’s stomach was in knots by the time Will was announced, and he exhaled thinly through his nostrils as he hardened his posture and kept his line of sight trained ahead. The alphas in the room all stood in respect of their omega prince. His omega counterparts bowed their heads, as was customary. Strohl only knew Will passed, for the sweet scent of overripe melon and honeysuckle floated in his wake, and the long lacy trail of his cape slid along the floor near Strohl’s feet. 

Grius led him to the steps leading up to the high table. There, Will gathered his hem and ascended, his cheeks warm from anxiety and the sole attention of everyone in the room. Louis  withdrew his chair for him. At that moment, he was the only alpha whose gaze was not averted. Rather, he stared at Will as he approached, a small satisfied smile playing on his lips. 

For Will’s part, his approach was one of increasing thrill and wonder. His heart was all but pounding out of his chest as he reached the chair. His eyes did not leave Louis for even a moment. 

As he settled into the seat that Louis courteously slid underneath him, the blond leaned close and into his ear murmured, “You are a vision unworthy of the eyes that behold you tonight, my darling.” 

Goosebumps erupted along every inch of Will’s skin as he asked breathlessly, “You think so?” He turned his cheek ever-so-slightly, so that Louis’s breath was fanning across his face. His own caught in his throat, and his lashes fluttered. 

Louis smirked. “I could look at nothing but even if I tried.” 

The infinitesimal moment shared between the two of them dissipated, and Will found the wind knocked from his lungs as he settled back in his chair. Behind him Louis made to be seated, and Will felt the illicit brush of the alpha’s hand against the back of his neck, an intentional effort made out to be inadvertent. It was a language spoken only by them, and Will interpreted the meaning. When he glanced to his right, Louis appeared largely unaffected, but as he lowered into his seat, his eyes met Will’s for a fraction of a second, and in them the omega spied a knowing mirth that did nothing to assuage the exhilaration in his veins and between his thighs. 

With Will settled, the court relieved themselves, and Strohl took in the scene over thin and impatient breaths. Meanwhile, Will offered the regent a pleasant and practiced smile, and Louis took up the nearest bottle of wine and offered the beverage to the prince after receiving reluctant permission from Forden. 

“Yes, please,” Will laughed, and Louis filled his glass. 

“How amusing it is,” the alpha remarked with a chuckle. “When last I shared your company, you were too young to even be in the company of libation. Now, look at you: blossomed, beautiful, and an enjoyer of fine spirits. How the times do change.” 

The prince smiled around his rim. He took a sip to quell the deep rise and fall of his chest, only made more apparent by the constriction of his corset. “A lot can change in nine years, you know.” 

“So I am discovering,” the alpha muttered. There was a hint of suggestive mirth in his tone as he cut a small portion of the baked fish ornately laid upon his plate, but he did not look the prince’s way as he chewed it. 

Will’s lips parted to speak, but he was interrupted. Rather than consume his next bite, Louis raised the fork, and cupping his hand beneath it, he extended his arm and offered it to Will. “Care for a taste?” 

The prince flushed. Slowly, he nodded, and though his lips fell open, his eyes locked onto Louis’s as the fork was pushed into his waiting mouth. He closed his lips around it. 

There was a discernible shift in the air as Will pulled back until the utensil exited his mouth. He chewed, sweet scent unconsciously flaring, and his eyes locked with Louis’s. They were the only two people in the hall, oblivious and thus uncaring of the many eyes which shifted toward them. An alpha and an omega could not do such things in secret: Their words and acts may be discreet, but their scents will always betray them. 

Louis hummed appreciatively, and he broke off another morsel to press against Will’s waiting lips. The omega’s lashes fluttered as he accepted without a second thought. Another soon followed, leaving the prince’s own plate forgotten. 

“Good,” the alpha murmured. His thumb raised to swipe across Will’s lower lip. It lingered there a moment, pressing into the supple skin and revealing the glistening mouth beyond. 

All the while, Will was enraptured. When the alpha’s hand moved away, he thoughtlessly followed. Louis could only chuckle fondly at the wanton display, but he did not deny Will. Louis appeased his preening omega instincts by plucking a grape from the fruit bowl and popping it into his mouth. Those who beheld the scene pretended to not see the way Will kissed the very tip of the blond’s finger, just as their noses feigned to not smell the egregious twinges of titillation originating from the couple. 

Strohl had abided much on their account. He had permitted their closeness, allowed them to share private words, and even withstood Will’s premature implied claims on the alpha, but this was something different altogether. By all accounts, they were humiliating themselves. They were making everyone in their vicinity uncomfortable, and they seemed to do so with little to no regard. 

To behave as such without being mated was already to arouse outrage, but so do so here , at the royal court, with none other than the crown prince was, to Strohl, an act of treason. He wanted to cry out, run to them, and rip Louis away from him. He wanted to throw the alpha to the ground and beat him. He wondered, as he stood there shaking and holding himself back, whether these feelings were on the part of his inner alpha, or whether they were born of his duty to the crown. That begged the question: Was his duty to the crown, or was it to Will? 

Thankfully for Strohl and the dozens of other innocent onlookers, Forden ceased the behavior. “Louis,” he said sternly under his breath. “Your intentions are noted, and you are not without rights to make them known; but I must request that you quit this for a more appropriate time.” 

Louis, who had been in the process of delicately placing a piece of cheese onto Will’s tongue, turned his head. His hand was still raised. His pale brow piqued. “A more appropriate time, you say? Pray, name such an occasion, for I cannot think of a better place to let my intentions be known far and wide.” 

The rhoag’s expression of diplomatic admonishment grew severe. Anger was beginning to blossom on his features. “Better circumstances, perhaps not, but a more decent approach. You’ll ruin him at this rate with your lewd disregard.” 

Will did not participate in this debate. After Louis stopped feeding him, he had slumped into his chair and fought to catch his breath, for he had little of it. He knew the corset was partially to blame, but indeed, he had allowed himself to be run away with his desire for closeness. He knew better by standard alone, but he had underestimated the power of Louis’s scent. Still novel to his nose, not to mention so utterly enthralling, he could not have predicted the power it would have over him. As his senses began their slow return, he became uncomfortably aware of how aroused he was, and when he glanced at the familiar faces of court before him, he saw in their eyes only scorn and shock.

Suddenly, his head felt light, and he had little appetite. He began to feel restless and anxious. Their attention was too heavy, their ridicule too hot. The bickering Forden and Louis looked toward him when he made a small sound, and he pressed a hand to his breast as he gripped the armest of his chair.

“I think I’d favor a moment of fresh air,” said the prince weakly. He stood. “If you will excuse me.”

Those seated at the high table all stood to acknowledge him. Louis burst out of his chair first. His hand hovered beneath Will’s arm to ensure he was steady. 

“Shall I escort you?” asked the elda count. 

Will quickly shook his head, effectively silencing the immediate objection Forden was preparing. “No,” the prince answered around a stilted laugh. “I’ll be fine. Please. Just a moment.” 

Hulkenberg and Strohl hurried to the steps to help Will down, but the prince pulled away his arm and again shook his head insistently. “Don’t touch me, please. I’m fine. I just wish for a moment of privacy.” 

“But Your Highness—” Hulkeberg interjected. The prince was never to be alone. 

“ Please .” Will’s sweet voice was strained by the force of his plea. He looked up at them imploringly. “Just one single moment.” 

Hulkenberg looked at Strohl with concern as Will gathered his hem and exited the room. Strohl looked over her shoulder at Louis, whose eyes met his. Strohl leveled him with acid contempt for a pause before turning on his heel and chasing after Will. 

“ Strohl!” Hulkenberg shouted, aghast, to no avail. Strohl was gone. 

As soon as the stewards shut the doors to the dining hall, Will removed his slippers and ran down the hall as fast as his feet could carry. His throat was full of his heart, and his eyes burned like his hands and feet. His skin everywhere, in fact, was alive with cold-hot prickles. 

Will had carried his burdens for years, so he was no stranger to them. Life had never been particularly easy, even as a pup. Most children have at least the privilege of naivete to what they will one day face, and that ignorance leaves room for joy. Will had always felt something looming overhead, even if the master of the shadow was not yet visible. It hung above when he was made to live in the sanctum, and he would ask where his father was, why they could not live together. It was there when the other elda children would avoid him or act with frightened caution in his presence. It was there in the delicacy with which he was treated by everyone who ever met him except for Louis. 

Louis , he thought mournfully as he burst onto the grand balcony at the end of the hall. He closed his eyes and laughed as he stumbled back against the cool stone wall. He let the back of his head hit it, little white strands clinging to the rough surface and pulling free from his careful style. 

Louis, Louis. His Louis. Louis was the only thing in Will’s life that had ever felt uniquely his. When Will was disgusted by his nature, Louis was all that soothed his despair. When he longed to embrace it, Louis was the only one with whom he wanted to share it. When he was frightened, Louis stood beside him. When he was happy, Louis laughed with him. When he felt nothing at all, Louis’s was the hand in his. 

Will had longed for the alpha with his body and soul for nearly ten years . In that time, his father died; the kingdom was pushed to the brink of war; Forden became king in his stead; he entertained multiple failed courtships; and worst of all, he became an omega. That alone he did not resent, for knowing Louis as an alpha would be waiting for him was his saving grace; but he never expected to go through it alone. Louis was ripped from him while his body was at the cusp of its greatest agony, and that week—that long, neverending, unbearable week—where Will writhed, sweated, and sobbed alone in his chambers was the most sobering and unendurable pain one could ever imagine. 

All he had were the letters. All Louis was reduced to was a neat scrawl across a page and a fading press of scent onto parchment. Will lived in those letters like he lived in books. He conjured the picture of Louis in his head and conjured much the same how the alpha would hold him; how he would regard him now that he, too, was changed; how he might take him as an alpha takes an omega, and how forever they would be safe and together as mates. 

It was his first night back with him. Louis was there with him. All Will had wanted, all he dared ask for himself, was a single moment to savor him—to reconnect with the man to whom he promised himself. That, much like Louis himself, was stolen, too. Will succumbed to a sob, which he stifled with his palm, as the thought settled over him. Not even his body was afforded the chance to process it. Instead, he was forced to be watched and mocked. He felt more like a doll than a prince, strung up and observed at the expense of his own mortal feelings. Tonight he was a doll of amusement, of gossip. Tomorrow, perhaps he would serve a different purpose as his clothes were swapped out and his makeup was redone. The cycle had not been broken by Louis’s arrival. Louis was just a second actor to better the show. 

Removing his hand, the omega prince finally allowed himself to breathe. He panted as his eyes raked over the vaulted ceiling, and he whimpered softly as he pressed his hand between his thighs and clenched them together. Against his fingertips he felt the telltale humidity of wetness blooming, and he had stiffened, too. It was excruciating, not unlike what he felt in heat, though thankfully less severe. It was still the same ache: that longing for something he had yet to have, yet his body insisted on having thrice a year for all of recent memory, and for the better part of his years to come, too. 

Footsteps approached, and Will groaned inwardly as though pleading for this reprieve, too. He was able to pull his hand away and stand up straight by the time Strohl stepped onto the balcony, and the prince’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it to be him. 

“Strohl,” Will said in surprise. 

“Your Highness,” said the alpha breathlessly. His shoulders slumped. He had hurried here without a second thought and realized suddenly that he had nothing prepared to say. He wet his lips, swallowed, and cleared his throat. “Are you all right?” 

Will’s lashes fluttered, and he chuckled softly. His smile was somewhat forlorn. “Yes. I meant it when I said it. I really just wanted to be alone, I…” 

Strohl frowned, but his voice was earnest, not critical. “Prince Will, what happened in there with Count Louis—” 

“I know,” Will interrupted quickly. He looked away and knit his brow. “I know. I don’t need to hear it from you, too.” He made for the railing of the balcony, where he rested his hands as he looked out upon the dark gardens. “I got carried away. It was bad. It was shameful. It could have ruined me. All of these are things I already know. Don’t you think I’ve known them all my life?” He laughed bitterly. 

Strohl’s eyes softened, and painfully he watched as Will’s shoulders slumped and his head lowered. He waited a moment before speaking again. “I know it must be hard. I won’t pretend to get it. I don’t. An alpha’s one thing, but it’s different; and you…” He sighed and shook his head. “You’re not just an omega. You’ve a mountain of responsibility, and you’re still so young…”

“Don’t.” Will turned and faced him. He rested his hands behind him on the railing now. His beautiful eyes were shining as they looked at Strohl. They were sad. “I’m less than three years your junior, not a baby.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, you did, you just didn’t mean it to hurt.” Will crossed the stone floor until he was before Strohl, who had never seen the look that Will was giving him now. “I’m not a child, I just need to be protected like one. I’m not stupid, but I can’t rule without an alpha by my side. I’m not a saint, yet I’m forbidden from intimacy like anyone else my age. Your kindness is a contradiction. You think you’re being sympathetic? You’re just patronizing me.” He scoffed under his breath and shook his head, pearl and diamond tickling the center of his forehead. “I have never known earnestness from anyone but one person in my entire life. Now, I’m not even allowed that.”       

Strohl was speechless. What could he possibly say that wasn’t further patronizing? He felt ashamed, for he had not considered Will’s feelings; but he knew the omega was right. How isolating it must be, how pretentious every interaction must seem. Even tonight, Strohl was guilty of it. Though the majority of his ire was aimed at Louis, he had been, admittedly, disgusted with Will. He flushed. 

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. The alpha guardsman raised his brows plaintively and shook his head. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. Nothing I can offer can change your circumstances, but on account of my thoughtlessness, I am sorry.” 

Will looked up at him for a long moment then sighed. His shoulders slumped, and he smiled faintly as he looked at their feet. “No, me, too. I still meant what I said, but I know you didn’t mean to patronize me. I know you’re really concerned. I just…sometimes I wish there was no one to be concerned about me at all.”

“Well, that’s impossible,” Strohl said lightly as a joke. “Someone like you? I’m sorry, Your Highness, however disingenuous it may be, nobody could ever ignore your face. Not in that getup, especially.” 

Will giggled. His next smile was genuine as he looked up at Strohl fondly. Then, it faded, and he said, “Thank you, Strohl. You’re a good man.” 

The alpha chuckled awkwardly and readjusted his grip on his neglected spear. “Anything you need me to be, I am.” 

When the mood dissipated, Will looked down at himself and sighed. He tossed his hem out behind him and stepped into his discarded slippers. “Suppose we should be getting back. The longer I delay, the more they’ll definitely be talking.” 

“All words of envy and nothing else, I’m sure. They’re likely scheming how to get Count Louis out of the picture so they can have you all to themselves. You yourself, certainly, are an afterthought.”

Will rolled his eyes and gave Strohl’s chest a playful shove. His hand remained there as he tugged at the heel of his shoe to get it on, and Strohl felt his heart jump at the contact. 

Before they began to make their way back, Will asked reluctantly, “Be honest: Do I still smell? I don’t think I could bear it if I did.”

Strohl swallowed thickly and hesitated for a second before bowing his head slightly and taking the most modest of sniffs. “No,” he said thickly, for other reasons, “you smell fine, like you usually do. They’ll never notice.” 

With a pat to Strohl’s chest, the omega said, “Good,” and with a nod, he raised his elbow. “Shall we?” 

As it turned out, Strohl’s subsequent absence was its own scandal. After he returned Will to the hall and deposited him at the high table, where Louis waited to usher him back to his seat, Strohl fell back into the guard line, where Hulkenberg wasted no time hissing over her shoulder, “Are you completely daft , you imbecile? How dare you follow His Highness like that! Think of his reputation!” 

“You’re being dramatic,” Strohl defended under his breath. “I was merely doing my duty by him. He needed an escort regardless.” 

“Not in a moment of vulnerability, and not when he is in that state !” 

“Aye, quit yer yammerin’, now,” Grius barked at the front of the line. “We’ll have a talk about all this later, we will. For now straighten up and look presentable. Yer both actin’ like spoiled pups.” 

Hulkenberg huffed, and Strohl rolled his eyes; but they were both effectively silenced. Strohl watched Will and Louis. The alpha was leaned toward him, and he was speaking to Will earnestly. Will nodded along and eventually laughed softly. His hand closed around Louis’s wrist for a fraction of a second before falling under the table. Strohl squeezed his spear, but he said nothing else. 

The remainder of the dinner went on with little event. Many present were undoubtedly still preoccupied with thoughts of what transpired at the high table, but for the most part as one would expect, they moved on to other superficial topics: how much Count Nobel was eating, whether the war would actually ever breach the border of Montario, and which designer would be the frontman of this fall’s fashion. 

After dessert was served, Louis departed to share a cigar and digestif with the court alphas. He and Will separated with a lingering hand touch. Will was summoned to sing and entertain the omega crowd at tea. During this, Strohl was dismissed to the guard’s quarters, where he loosened his ceremonial cuirass with a sigh as he lowered himself into a seat. Now, the guards were allowed to have supper. 

“You were stupid and reckless,” said Hulkenberg bitterly as she angrily spread cold butter over a torn piece of bread. “With opinions of His Highness already so inflamed, you go and follow your impulses. You will disgrace us all.” 

“Aye, young Eiselin, you’re right.” Grius held up his hand to silence Strohl so he could speak himself. “But we cannae forget the lad’s also green to this. There’re things he’ll catch onto—things you yourself have known for many a-year now. I’m no’ saying he’s not a twit of an alpha, ‘cause he is, but give him some credence.” 

The roussainte looked at Strohl cholerically but huffed rather than continued. She took up her pint with a displeased wayward glance. “Be that as it may, I won’t be silent. Not when we all are at risk because of your stupidity.” 

Strohl rolled one of his potatoes around his plate, his cheek rested upon the back of his hand. “He needed somebody,” he said defeatedly. “I knew—know—it’s not my place, but… I couldn’t just leave him be.” 

Grius sighed through his nostrils. The candlelight from the table and torches on the walls made his hair a pale orange. “You’re a well alpha, Strohl, but there is a time and place; and for us in this room, and in this guard, it isnae by the side of omegas like His Highness.” 

Strohl’s mouth twitched, and he nodded. His appetite was scant for the rest of the night. 

The dinnertime merriment concluded, and it was late when Will returned to his chambers. He sent away his waiting maids, for he wished to undress alone. He was socially fatigued and still somber from the embarrassment that transpired at dinner. He longed for a warm bath and a distracting story to read. Perhaps he would cry, or perhaps he would simply stare off into space until his mind was blank or numb. He did not know, but Will was one who savored solitude once reaching a certain point of weariness. 

He sighed, toed off his slippers, and closed his eyes as he first removed the pearls around his neck. Next was the circlet, then the earrings. He carefully unwound the ties from his hair and loosened it with his fingers. Reaching behind himself, he untied and began to loosen the strings of his corset, but just then, he heard a sound. He paused. 

The prince raised his head and looked around the room in minute alarm. He was not naive to the fact that, being royalty, the danger of assassins was always very real. When he heard it again, he knew it was not mortal danger. It was a tiny, quiet sound, like the sound of a bird’s talons tapping, or a heavy raindrop hitting glass. It came from his balcony. Brow perplexed, he bunched up the hem of his cape and padded across the floor to inspect. 

He stepped out, approached the railing, and squinted down into the dark. There, Will saw Louis. With a soft exhale, he grinned and cupped his hand above his brow so he might see him better as he leaned over the guard. “What are you doing out there?” 

Louis held himself handsomely. His posture was straight and inviting, the hand that had been pelting pebbles now resting at his hip, the other bent and beneath it holding something wrapped. “I thought perhaps you might favor a walk with just the two of us, so that we could be alone—like we used to,” he added with a knowing smile. 

Will’s face warmed, and he smiled sweetly to himself. He looked over his shoulder as though to confirm that no one was there watching him. Then, he looked to the sides and all around, again to ensure that they were alone. When he was satisfied, he bunched up his lace and with an exhilarated grin climbed onto the stone, using the column beside him as support. 

Fortunately for the young lovers, Will had been confined to these apartments for the better part of the past decade, and though he was largely alone, he was not exempt from the mischief of youth. Naturally, he had discovered ways to escape untraced, which he sometimes did when he longed to read alone beyond the garden’s hedges. He always returned before he could be greatly missed—and the rare times that he failed in this he had indeed faced stern reprimands from Aurissia and Grius—but those stolen moments were the prince’s sole tastes of freedom from the palace walls.  

He thus took his favored secret route: he descended the slant of the roof nearest his study window carefully until he reached the edge. Then, he lowered himself onto his hands and knees, and by memory he scaled down the decorative ridges of the cornerstone where the two walls met. 

He tried to be cautious, but there was an inevitable eagerness in his step. When he reached the last three, his foot slipped, but he only felt a flash of fear as the open air behind him swallowed him. Louis was there, and he caught Will in his arms. The omega’s back and head collided with a warm, unrelenting chest, and he looked up wide-eyed at the alpha who smiled down at him. 

“Hi,” greeted Will, breaking into a grin, which Louis returned. 

“Good evening.” 

They looked at one another for a moment before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Louis helped him onto his feet, and Will unconsciously adjusted his corset. 

Louis looked even better than he had earlier that night. The nighttime humidity encircled his hair with a light, wispy edge that seemed to glow from the palace lights that caught in it. His two topmost buttons were undone, and on his skin was that subtle sheen that came from a day’s worth of activity. To some, perhaps it would have been unattractive or unclean. Will wanted to lave his tongue over it. He wanted to slip his fingers into his open collar and feel his pulse dance as he coaxed out the scent of musky cedarwood and fallen jasmine petals until his nose was overwhelmed by it. 

“We shouldn’t tarry,” said Louis with a warning wag of his brow. “Someone could see us.” 

Will worried his bottom lip, then, stealing one last good look at the alpha, took his hand and mischievously said, “Come on. I know where to go.” 

He began to pull Louis toward the hedge maze, and after sparing a look over his shoulder to ensure he was following he began to run. Louis stumbled only once before rushing to match his pace. 

“Will!” the alpha laughed incredulously. “What are you doing?” 

“Come on, slowpoke! You’re a soldier, aren’t you?” he laughed. He did not slow down. In fact, he increased his pace, running as fast as was possible with an alpha a foot taller than him in tow. In his right hand he held his bunched hem, and his left held onto Louis as they entered the maze. Will wove through the paths thoughtlessly, for he had traversed them so many times over the years that he knew every route and its tricks. 

As they neared the center, where the grand fountain was, they heard someone approaching, and Will stopped abruptly, sending the alpha colliding with his back with a quiet grunt. Will reached up to shush him with a finger, and pushed Louis over to the nearest hedge so he may press against it. Will made himself small against the blond’s chest as he peered around the corner to watch a sentry pass with a yawn. When the coast was clear, he looked up at Louis and giggled. “Come on. This way.” 

They resumed their secret journey for a little while longer until they came upon a deadend. There, Will approached the hedge, and he reached his arm into its leaves to feel for something, squeezing one eye shut and pursing his lips as he blindly felt around. At last, he found the latch, and with a quiet click, a hidden swinging gate opened. Will stepped back and bowed with a flourish. “My lord.” 

Louis laughed and returned the gesture with a low bow of his own. “Most gracious of you, good sir. After you.” 

Because the gate was not the full height of the hedge, Will had to bow low to pass through, meaning a man of Louis’s height was forced to all but crawl, but he did. Once they were out, the alpha shut the gate, and excitement was in Will’s step as he led Louis onto the soft grassy incline. A short distance away was a lone old tree, and just beyond it the river in placid deep blue. 

The hedge provided a wall that separated them from the palace grounds. Will turned to face Louis and raised their joined hands overhead with a big grin. “We came here together once. Do you remember?” 

Louis studied the scenery thoughtfully before saying slowly, “Yes. It was our last day together, was it not? The day we said goodbye.” 

“‘Goodbye carries too much finality,’ you said. Instead, you said you’d see me soon. You put a flower in my hair, just here.” The prince raised left hand and pointed to his temple. “Remember?” 

“How could I forget?” Louis said with a quiet smile. He stepped closer, and Will looked up at him. Louis raised his hand, which was still being held by Will, up to the omega’s face. He caressed it, and the prince turned into it, eyes closed as his lips grazed his warm and rough palm. 

Emboldened by their solitude, Will nuzzled it, and he inched his face closer to the alpha’s wrist so that he may inhale his scent where it was strong. He sighed softly at the notes that dwelled there, for they erupted goosebumps across his exposed skin. “Oh, Louis,” he whispered dreamily, “I missed you so awfully I can hardly describe it.” 

Louis brushed his bangs, fingertips dancing lightly across his soft face. “‘Awfully’ would be an understatement on my part. Will, you are the very reason I stand here today.” 

Overwhelmed by the wash of emotion he felt, Will laughed shakily, and he kissed the alpha’s palm and raised his gaze to him. His chest was emphatically rising and falling. Rather than lose himself immediately, he opted for, “You smell so good,” and Louis responded in turn. 

“As do you. All night, I strove to better catch it, but all those simpering courtiers dulled it somewhat. Now, I have you all to myself, haven’t I?” 

“Only yours,” said Will, and he guided Louis’s hand to curl around the side of his neck where his pulse beat hard. He knew that when the alpha removed it, it would smell just like him. He wanted that. 

It took great willpower from them both to separate, but they did. It took only one aimless moment for Louis to act, and he slid his coat off his coat in favor of spreading it upon the grass so that Will may sit. “Please,” he said with a wave. 

Tucking his lace beneath him, Will sat, and he made sure to place his legs just right, so that they seemed longer and his thighs looked nice. Louis settled beside him, and they shared a smile. It took all the restraint Will possessed to not pull him close. 

Thankfully, Louis drew his attention. The alpha reached for the wrapped bundle he brought with him. Will was admittedly curious as to its contents, and he was both surprised and amused when Louis opened it to produce a bottle of wine and two steel goblets. 

“I find myself still astonished that you are now old enough to drink,” mused the alpha with a chuckle, “but you seemed to enjoy the wine we had at dinner. I thought perhaps you’d enjoy a little more. A toast, if you will, to your beautiful presentation. It is a long time coming.” 

Will nodded, and he watched with lowered eyes and a fond smile as Louis filled their cups. He took his and offered a small toast. Their rims tapped, and they drank. Will let out a soft sigh as he gazed upon the water, the wind ruffling his milky bangs. He rested on his arm. “It really is true that so much has changed.” 

He could feel the weight of Louis’s eyes on him when the alpha murmured, “I did not pay you the credence you deserve when I called you a vision. Truly, Will, you are the very definition of beauty. I’ve hardly had time to formulate the thought, I have been so taken by you.” 

The prince looked at him and tilted his head. He was blushing, but he still teased, “And how do you think I feel? You were an alpha even when I last saw you, yet now you seem so much…bigger, somehow.” His eyes raked over Louis’s form. It made him blush harder yet. 

“I cannot say the same for you. You’ve hardly grown an inch since I last beheld you.” 

Will swatted at him and laughed, but his feigned displeasure was short-lived. He bit his lip as he hesitated to say his next words. “Louis…” 

“You needn’t ask,” the alpha chuckled. He raised his nose and smiled knowingly. “Come closer.” 

Will did. It didn’t require asking twice. He inched over, so that his hip was touching Louis’s arm, and he rested his head upon the alpha’s shoulder and sighed blissfully. Like this, his scent was strong, and Will was not coy enough to pretend he wasn’t reveling in it. His breaths were deep, and if that wasn’t indicative enough, his own blossomed and flourished, a flowery and fresh aroma of unadulterated pleasure and longing. 

The omega held up their hands and spread his fingers, so that they were outstretched and his palm was flat against the other elda’s. Louis did the same, and Will smiled at the difference in their breadths. Louis dwarfed him in nearly every way. It made whole a part of Will that he hadn’t realized needed filling. 

“It feels like too much at times,” he confessed quietly, “my duties, all that’s happened—time. There is so much I don’t know about you now. It’s like we’ve lived a lifetime apart, not nine years. How ever can I catch up if we only have each other in stolen moments like this?” 

Louis slid his fingers between Will’s and closed them as he spoke, “We’ll find a way, my darling. We always have, you and I. Adversity is the origin of our bond, is it not? We have endured the very fires of hell, and we are together still. I cannot name a single thing that could separate us.” 

The alpha turned his own head, so that his nose was pressed into Will’s hair, and he, too, delighted in the scent there. They both inhaled one another, and in turn, their respective scents morphed into something new entirely. 

Louis hummed quietly. “It is not just your scent, nor your pretty face. You’ve become a man since I’ve been gone. Your very presence commands me. I find, more than ever, I am a slave to your whims. One word from you would order me. I leave a sniveling pup, and I come home to find my master. How strange a mistress she is indeed, time.” 

Will quickly discovered that his infamous restraint was solely contingent on those words. With them said, Will cared no longer about the silly pretense he felt obligated to maintain, nor did he care about anything else under the sun, for Louis was with him; and Louis wanted him. Will wanted him, too, and no one was there to judge or stop them. 

And Will gravely lacked the continence to stop what was next. 

The prince sat up slightly, and with eyes alight with the stars he asked, “Kiss me?” 

Louis, whose face was close, tilted his head, studied Will’s lips, and smirked for only a second before he so graciously, and so wondrously, closed the distance between them. Their mouths, which had been so terribly lonely for thousands of days, were suddenly accompanied, and Will felt in him every ounce of joy that he could ever imagine.  

It was Will’s first kiss, but he knew it to be a perfect one. Their mouths fit perfectly. They knew the other’s next movement, how to respond in turn. Will moaned and turned his head, and already Louis was slotted into place. Their lips pressed without the need for command. Will retreated in submission that had never been practiced yet was so thoughtless, and Louis gave chase with no danger. They met, and they melded. Will parted for him, and the tongue that entered his mouth was as sweet as it was safe. He accepted it greedily. 

Will gave into him, not because Louis demanded it of him, but because he wanted to so badly. Thankfully Louis took the cue, and his hand found Will’s nape and held him there as he licked into him. The prince felt his threads loosen and unravel until he was but a pile of wayward strands, thoughtless and obsequious, willing and desirous. He felt utterly shapeless as Louis kissed him, and he rejoiced knowing that he may be reassembled as whatever his alpha wished. 

He was not, however, a doormat, even craving submission as he was. He still reached up his hands to fist Louis’s hair where it hung over his shoulders, and when Louis’s fingers crept beneath the hem of his bloomers, he rose and straddled his lap. 

Fully facing now, their kiss was even deeper. Will found his belly pressing forward as to feel the extent of Louis’s warmth. His alpha grew bolder, too, and those fingers were matched on the opposite side. They were in his shorts, not touching anywhere particularly illicit, yet feeling foreign skin all the same. Will whimpered, and to show his appreciation, he ground his hips down. He was unashamed by the wetness between his thighs, nor was he ashamed when he pressed his face into Louis’s neck and wantonly breathed in his scent. 

It was piqued and heady, and it undid him. His eyes were closed, and his hidden face was the picture of bliss as he took in all his lungs would allow. His delicate hands were reverent as they explored the shape of the body beneath him, tracing over the shape of muscle through fabric along arms, shoulders, chest, stomach, back, until he knew that no other shape would ever be remembered by his palms.

He gasped softly against the alpha’s neck when Louis mouthed over his scent gland, and his hands relocated to Louis’s hair, fingers sliding up and into his dense silky waves at his nape and holding there so he didn’t float away. He rocked his hips and found hardness against his own, and it was enough to allow himself to be unbidden in his own desire. He was no longer self-conscious of the wetness gathering in his shorts, knowing now that Louis felt the same. He hoped it stained through. He hoped Louis could smell it. He hoped Louis would take pity on him, and those long fingers would travel further yet, and—

“Louis,” he pleaded. His head fell back to expose the long column of his throat. Louis latched onto it, sucking straight over his most sensitive spot. Will saw fireworks erupt behind his eyelids in brilliant flashes of light and splendor. His alpha beneath him raised his thigh, so that Will was directly upon it, and the omega sighed and ground against it. “Touch me,” he sighed from far away. “Touch me anywhere. Touch me everywhere.” 

The alpha made a low sound, something between an appreciative growl and an amused chuckle. Whatever it was, it reduced Will to a puddle. “My beautiful prince has grown lewd waiting for me. How apparent is my error.” 

A perfect tongue swiped over the expanse of Will’s chest where it was exposed above his corset, and Will moaned sweetly. At the same time, large hands engulfed his thighs, smoothing over soft silk and trembling plush skin. Will arched back and bit his lip in anticipation as the fingers’ dance continued northward, slotting underneath frills and lace until they were full of a supple backside, squeezing and spreading, but never straying too far. Will shook like a leaf being tested by the wind in his lap. 

The omega tried to speak but found his efforts emerging only as a babble of moans and hiked gasps. He wondered how he looked to Louis, eager and restless, heaving and clammy, lips bitten and thighs spread, beading through his bloomers, chest hardened through sheer muslin. Did he want Will like Will wanted him? Was he moments away from losing himself, too? 

“Why should we wait?” asked Will breathlessly. “Take me now. Mark me. We both want it. I want you, Louis. What are we waiting for? I’ve waited so long for you. Just—” 

Louis pushed onto his knees and abruptly switched their positions. When Will’s back gently hit the ground, he made a soft sound of surprise, chest heaving and shining. Louis caged him in from above. He looked like an angel to Will, yet also an incubus, here to seduce and make dirty pretty things like him. It thrilled him and made him leak down below, where his skin felt engorged and desperate. Unconsciously he spread his thighs wide, seeking to accept the alpha between them. 

“Your body speaks on behalf of your mind. You don’t mean the things you say.” The alpha said this, yet his hips pressed against Will’s. The omega gasped, head falling back against the coat-made-blanket beneath. He was preening as he felt that place where Louis’s heartbeat was hot and strong slot between his cheeks. Louis’s lips danced over his as he murmured, “Desire has a way with polluting judgment. Feel me now, where you long for it the most, and know that you cannot have it. Let it thrill you. Let it possess you.” He rutted himself against Will as he spoke. “Let it consume you, so that every action you take from this moment forward is in the name of this memory, and everything you do henceforth is to have it again.” 

Will gasped his name, his barely open eyes fixed on Louis’s perfect face as he teased and tortured him. Louis’s scent was everywhere, on everything, in his veins. He could hardly breathe air beyond it but found that wasn’t so bad. Suffocating on such a flawless smell was one of the better ways to go. 

“I can’t do it.” The prince’s features were wrought as he shook his head. “It’s too much. I can’t have you yet not have you at all. Louis, I want all of you. I want you now. I want you, I want you!” 

He pulled the alpha down so he could kiss him deeply. He felt Louis beneath his hands again, at first cupping his face, then sliding into his shirt. He wanted to feel his skin so he could imagine it against his own. He wanted to see him as he was, not like how Will fantasized he might be. 

“Consider it a preview,” Louis chuckled against his parted, begging lips. “Motivation, if you will, to secure our match. You want me, Will?” 

“Yes!” the omega sobbed. 

“Then you mustn’t let them stop us. You must stop the regent’s designs against us. You must do all you can to carve a place for me, and I will make you mine, Will.” 

“I am yours,” Will barely managed to say, for every muscle in his body was seizing. “I’ve always been yours.” 

“And here, too?” asked the blond lightly as his teeth grazed Will’s scent gland. 

That was it. Will had already been pushed to and pulled back from the brink over and over again, but that —the vision of being marked, delivered so graciously by the very alpha who would one day do it—was all that Will could bear. 

Before he even knew what was happening, he convulsed beneath the alpha, and he cried out harshly as he was overwhelmed by a shuddering climax. It traveled through him slowly, and he felt every wash of pleasure from the tips of his toes to the peak of his skull. He sighed; he gasped; he whimpered. He dissolved into the grass like grains of sand that were only reformed by the placating hands that soothed over him and pushed him back together. 

Will panted heavily as lucidity gradually returned to him. He loosened his legs, which he hadn’t even noticed had been caging in Louis. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed, his gaze distant and lofty. Louis beheld him as though a jewel, and he raised one of Will’s hands to his lips in favor of pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Best to stop there anyhow, lest we get carried away down a path that we can’t turn back from.” 

Will offered a weak smile, and he pushed himself onto his elbows. “What about you?” he asked with a small frown. 

Louis shook his head and smoothed out his shirt. His arousal was very much still present, and quite visible. “I fear that what I require is more than I’m ready to take at present. I shall wait, but do not worry yourself so. I am quite fine, I assure you.”

Will was unconvinced, but he pushed aside his guilt and righted himself fully. “I can’t believe I…” 

A laugh bubbled up in Louis’s chest. “Nor can I,” he hummed wryly, “but you needn’t be ashamed. You looked just as I imagined, and now, I’ll be able to think of nothing but.” 

WIth warm cheeks, Will crawled over and pressed his fingers onto the blanket as he kissed Louis. It was only then that he remembered that it was not a blanket at all, and he flushed. 

“I’ve made quite a mess,” he worried, looking around and under them. “Your coat…” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” The alpha’s voice was deliciously low with mirth and something else when he said, “Dare I say I’ll like it even more now.” 

Will flushed even harder and pouted as he tugged at Louis’s collar. “You’re gross.” 

Louis laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go there right now, not in your position.” 

The prince sulked and slumped against the alpha, and Louis chuckled, closing his eyes as he pressed his mouth into the crown of Will’s hair. “I longed for you every night, you know. I thought of you when idle, in the throes of battle, during my most debauched fantasies. You are the center of my mind’s orbit, Will.” 

Will peeked up at him, eyes shimmering as he asked, “You did?” 

Louis nodded with a distant smile. “Truly. You are everything, Will. The beginning and the end.” 

The alpha nearly had to carry Will back, his legs were so unsteady, but he persisted. As it turned out, climaxing at the hands of another is much more taxing than by your own. Granted, Will had been tucked into bed for the night all the times he pleasured himself, but that was surely irrelevant, he thought dourly. 

Their impending goodbye made the traverse through the hedges much shorter. Before Will could even blink they were beneath his balcony, and they faced one another. 

“You must hurry. If we are caught, they will undoubtedly smell our indiscretion, if they don’t see it first,” reminded the alpha.

Will nodded, though his expression was forlorn. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered, turning his face into Louis’s waiting hand. “It’s not long enough.” 

Louis offered a soft, placating smile. “It won’t be the last time. We’re only getting started, hmm?”

Will smiled back. He pressed a fleeting kiss to the alpha’s palm before gathering his hem and making for the cornerstone. 

“Will?” called Louis as Will reached the balcony railing and climbed over it. “Do wash well?” 

The prince chuckled as he looked down at him. “You, too!” he called with a smile that was all fondness and warmth. They held each other’s gaze one last time, and Will said, “Good night, Louis.” 

“Sleep well, my prince.” 

Will shut the balcony door slowly, and just like the night had never happened, he was alone again. Maybe he could have convinced himself that it truly hadn’t, were it not for the stickiness clinging to his thighs and the euphoria still simmering throughout his veins. 

He took a few steps, ran his hand through his bangs, sighed, and flopped onto the foot of his bed.

Chapter Text

Dearest Father, 

You must forgive me, for I have been negligent in penning you a letter since my arrival. I intended to much sooner, but I have found it somewhat difficult to adjust to my new duties, as well as my new life without you and Mother. 

This Flamesday marks my third week living in the palace. I can say now with some reluctant confidence that I am settled in. Court affairs are much as you said they would be, and it’s true that it is not always easy work, though it is certainly honest. I find myself quite privileged to be here, and I hope to always be so humble. 

I have met many interesting people, some savory, most regrettably less so. I find that something about the company kept here arouses a tendency to be most forthcoming with opinions, which is more a bane than a boon, if I must say. There is one alpha in particular whom I find to be quite vexing, but I make sure to remember myself every day and all that you have taught me about a gentleman’s disposition. It is certainly a far cry from the character of the good people of our village, whom I miss terribly every day. I pray that levy season is going well, and that you haven’t faced too much trouble collecting the rents this year. 

Nevertheless, I have not met any eligible omegas who have caught my eye, but that, too, is just like you said. It is hard to entice a potential mate with so little offering in the way of scent, but that is just as well. When I conclude my duties here after His Highness takes his place on the throne, I will return home to finish my familial duties “before my youth is further stolen away,” as Mother likes to complain. Do try to remind her for me that I am younger than you were when you and her mated, though I apologize in advance for the slap you’re likely to take in my stead. I love and miss her terribly, and do tell her that, too. I promise to deliver many beautiful grandchildren soon. 

I do so wish I could tell you about His Highness, though I know I am duty-bound to the contrary, but Father, I mean it when I say he is a most remarkable person. He is the very picture of an omega in all ways that one should be. I am so honored by my service to him. I only hope to make him proud as I do you. I could not wish for a better man to devote myself to. 

My last humble request is that you tell everyone of how I miss them, and of how often I think of you all. It is not until you are away that you realize where your heart truly resides, and for me, that place will always be our dearest Halia. 

Tell Mallorie I said hello, and remind her that her pincushion is atop the cabinet left of the kitchen backdoor. She places it there every time yet always says she’s lost it. I fear for what will become of our textiles without me there to save her. 

I love you, Father. Until next time, signed, 

Your loving son Leon

Strohl lowered the quill in his hand and sank in his chair with a heavy sigh as he finished the letter that he managed to write in his rare spare time. He ran his hand down his face and through the archway looked out at Louis and Will, who were succumbing to a fit of laughter as they walked through the gardens. He watched as Will grazed Louis’s arm with his fingertips, a gesture that was not as artless as Will likely wanted it to seem. He frowned. 

Strohl hated Louis Guiabern.

Now, it did not take long for this to be decided. In fact, it took all of the day after Louis’s arrival for Strohl to be certain of the fact. The count’s return had already stirred distaste within the alpha guardsman, but it was upon a few hours’ silent observation of the other alpha’s behavior that Strohl was sure. 

He quickly learned that the Louis in Will’s company was a vastly different one than he who walked the palace halls with his gaze trained down his perpetually raised nose. The elda displayed a shocking disregard for custom and tradition, the fact of which he was not shy to express. Louis flippantly dismissed servants with a wave of his hand, scoffed at those who prayed, and insulted Forden openly, though never to the rhoag’s face—not yet, at the very least.

Though the duration of the count’s residence was still dubious, he brought with him enough of his belongings to all but declare it to be permanent. On that second day, a flurry of individuals, who appeared to be more follower than friend, flitted about the western wing carrying all manner of personal effects. Strohl, who had been on his way to the library to take over door duty while the prince read, stopped in the hall and watched in confused shock as chests, weapons, garment racks, sculptures, artwork, and a veritable mountain of books were transported into the apartments that Louis called his. 

With him the elda also brought his own set of courtiers, most of whom were those same faces Strohl saw that day. He knew little about them, not even their full names at first, though they dressed flamboyantly and seemed to take Louis’s word as law. There were five of them who were the most prevalent, and they were each of different tribes, save for the two paripus brothers, which Strohl only knew because the larger one—a hulking alpha called Basilio—could often be heard saying “me brother.” 

The one good thing Louis brought to the palace was the lady Junah, a singer who was so renowned throughout the kingdom that even Strohl knew of her. For the life of the alpha he could not understand why an omega so fair and with a disposition so sweet would spend her time in the company of a contemptuous and vain bastard like Louis, and often, as he watched her at his side, he found himself as much unsettled as he did perplexed. Regardless of the reason, Junah was an unmated omega, and that alone was damning and horrific enough. 

Louis alone arose a frenzy among the gossipy lords and ladies of the royal court, as did his insolent and unusual coterie, but Junah’s presence among them and at Louis’s side undoubtedly was the most incriminating. People began to talk, as Strohl had quickly learned they were prone to do, and it boded poorly for both Louis’s reputation and his prospects with Will. His mere willingness to be in proximity of Junah implied some sort of attachment between them, and as such, how dare he make gestures toward the prince? 

Reputation, however, seemed of little consequence to Louis. Louis was insufferable and pompous by his own devices, but when he was with Will, he was all sickening flattery and practiced seduction. Observing them together nauseated Strohl, who had the severe misfortune of being charged to follow and watch whenever Louis raised the prince’s hand to press a kiss to it, or whenever they would lean close and whisper secrets, their mouths always lingering just a moment longer than necessary in proximity to each other’s throats. 

Indeed, Strohl was there to witness all of their obscene displays: unabashed stares at the other’s lips, fleeting touches against skin, and indiscreet inhalations of scent hanging in the air. Strohl began to understand his parents’ chagrin after he presented and would spend time with omegas whom he certainly had lustful interest in, but was always so eager to deny it. 

Strohl prayed every night for it to stop, not out of envy or misplaced protectiveness, he told himself, but because it disturbed him to see Will put in such a predicament. The young alpha, so unknowingly dedicated to principles whenever he decided they were such, was, in fact, patronizing. He believed Louis to be a villain and Will to be innocent and righteous, and therefore, he blamed Louis for doing it to him at all. He was ignorant of the depth of their bond, but to his credit, how could he not be? Few knew of the extent of the history between the sweet prince and his alpha companion. 

While the court despaired and disdained Louis's growing presence, Will rejoiced. The folly was that Will was not unaware of what was being said about him, or how such beliefs could implicate him. It was simply that he did not care. 

Will made himself not care. He did this because he knew the shortsightedness of his own judgment. He knew that, however he may disdain it at times, his duties were greater than romance and self-fulfillment. He knew that thousands of people would one day count on him. He knew that so many people in this palace sacrificed much to protect him and better his circumstances, but selfishly, he did not care. He couldn’t. 

It was like he told Strohl: the young omega had sacrificed so much himself for so many years, had even resigned himself to a life of responsibility and submission, that he decided that he would allow himself one thing. He would indulge himself in this one thing. That thing was Louis. 

And Louis was bright, beautiful, and there . Shamelessly he rushed to see Louis first thing the morning after their salacious evening in the gardens. He found the alpha to be fond and appreciative where Will feared he would be avoidant and stiff. It only furthered his endearment. 

Every day was spent thus: Will would rise; freshen up and dress as quickly as possible; cram his breakfast into his mouth at speeds that always earned him complaints from Aurissia and the other maids; and then burst from his room to fly through the halls until he found Louis. 

They promendaded together in the gardens, their arms linked. They read together in the library and stole kisses whenever they managed to evade the guard’s prying eyes. They ate side-by-side every night, and Louis did continue to feed him, though much more delicately, for reasons obvious. 

Although they were supervised all the while, Will was happy. In fact, he had been little happier than he was in those early days with Louis at his side, the vapors of a romance floating in the air, but not yet formed. Each day promised something new, and Will could hardly wait in his anxiousness to see what it was. Again he felt what it was like to look forward to something: to have something that was his own. 

Still, content as he was, there was something left to be desired. He could abide all of their present situation, but he still longed for privacy, for what he had a delicious taste of that night by the river. He craved the touch of Louis’s hands, the whisper of the alpha’s lips on his skin, the pressure of his hips pressed close. He longed for things he had yet to have, too. Perhaps he longed for those things the most. 

Then, one day, Will’s restless longing was assuaged in the most peculiar of ways. 

It was like any other early afternoon, where Forden received guests and dignitaries in the throne room, and Will sat at his side blowing his bangs out of his face while boredly observing until he was dismissed before dinnertime. Usually, the alphas who visited were counts and countesses, foreign emissaries of the crown, or leaders of the church, come to pay respects or seek counsel from the sanctifex. 

Sometimes, these visitors beseeched Forden for Will’s entertainment of a courtship. A few times since Will presented, Forden allowed this, and the prince was forced to suffer through a handful of awkward and tedious dates on the palace grounds until the suitor deemed Will’s disposition to be too unaffected or droll and carried on his merry way. Forden usually chastised him for this, accusing Will of sabotaging the affair—which, to Forden’s credit, he was —but Will endured the admonishments, and after a week or two, the rhoag forgot all about it until the next challenger came along. 

These suitors were also always older alphas who were hardly attractive. The last thing Will ever expected was for one of them to be someone he knew, let alone… 

Will sat up in his chair and adjusted the hem of his tunic as Louis approached. He tried to hide his eagerness, both in countenance and scent, but failed miserably. Forden cast him a wayward glance before turning his attention back to Louis, who approached the throne now that the woman ahead of him was finished. The elda bowed low. 

“Your Eminence.” 

Forden squinted fractionally before raising his hand to relieve the elda. “Count Louis. What can I do for you on this lovely day?”

Louis, who righted himself into an easy stance, smiled lightly. “Why, I’ve come to humbly request your permission to formally court His Highness the Prince. Consider my intentions pure, and my declarations honest. In all modesty I humbly submit myself to your whims.” 

Strohl sucked the bonbon he had snuck from the table of dainties so hard into the back of his throat in his surprise that he choked, and Hulkenberg, though giving him the dirtiest of looks, hastened to smack his back a few times. 

Perhaps his unseemly behavior would have earned him more disdain, had the rest of those in the room not been scandalized themselves. A hushed murmur of shock and misprision erupted throughout the room as Louis’s unfathomable words set in.

Louis had made his intentions toward Will no secret, but to hear them voiced before all was as though the revelation of a dirty and long-kept secret. After all, a formal declaration of courtship lent to many things that Louis had previously not been sanctioned to do. He would now be permitted to present Will with gifts; he would be allowed to call on him in the evening rather than only the light of day; and perhaps most outrageously, he would be allowed to scent Will , and Will would be permitted to reciprocate. 

Such was the entire purpose of courtship: with a veritable harem of alphas all fighting for your hand, the most impressive were they who were at last granted the privilege of scenting, for the act was to ephemerally mark one another as yours; and it went without saying that, as things stood, other alphas would stand little chance.  

So preposterous was the idea, nobody actually believed for a single second that Forden would agree to the request—certainly not Strohl, who had convinced himself that Forden hated Louis as much as he, if not more. 

Nobody dared believe it, and yet. 

For what seemed like an eternity the rhoag merely scrutinized Louis down his nose, his aged eyes low and calculating. The collective breath of the room was bated. Not a soul other than Will dared move after the initial scandal. The omega, it seemed, could not resist an outward show of his anticipation. His knuckles were white as they gripped the armrests on either side of him, and his chest was rising and falling to great effect as he looked between Forden and his beloved. 

After an eternity, Forden spoke. 

“A most bold proposal you have brought forward, young Louis. Though I cannot claim its contents are surprising, considering your loose behavior as of late, I will say, I did not expect you to ever ask it directly.”

It was not a promising start. Few thought so, and murmurs once again arose. It was certainly not promising to Will, whose breathing had grown even more shallow, and he looked at the beta imploringly. 

Forden closed his eyes, and after a pause, he again spoke, and what he said was expected by not a single soul in the kingdom. 

“I accept your request. You may devote your attention to His Highness Will, who is like my own son.”

The resulting shock was so potent that not even gossip stirred. Confusion erupted so visibly on the faces of both Will and Louis that it was nearly comical. 

“I must o— I beg your pardon?” The elda count blinked. “Did you say you accept ?” he asked in incredulity. 

Will had sprung from his seat. He clutched his hands to his chest as he asked breathlessly, “Your Eminence!” He stuttered, “Do you really mean it?”

The beta raised his right hand to will the prince back into his seat. With eyes shut, he chuckled. “Do not make me regret it. I find dramatization to be so tedious, Will.”

The omega slowly looked at Louis, who had been looking at him all the while, though only then did he seem to finally start processing Forden’s permission. His wide-eyed shock gave way to curious understanding. A faint smile began to appear, one that was as amused as it was pleased. 

It was the beginning of the end for Strohl. 

“Your Eminence, if I may—“ the clemar blurted before Hulkenberg slapped her hand over his mouth. Louis was looking at them, as were a few other courtiers. 

“ Silence ,” the alpha woman hissed. “Do you want to make a scene?”

Lately, Strohl begrudgingly accepted the admonishments of his elders in the guard, but he found this charge to be too outrageous to stay silent. He jerked his head roughly out of the roussainte’s grasp. 

“This is impossible,” he hissed back, his eyes lively. “With the sanctifex’s very own permission, they’ll—“

Strohl did not notice that Louis, having been dismissed by Forden, had made his way over, not until his velvety voice interrupted. “They’ll what, exactly?” he asked lightly. “Do go on. I am most eager to hear this prediction of my behavior.”

Deaf to Hulkenberg’s adamant protests, Strohl shouldered his way around her, and he stepped into Louis’s space. They had the fortune of being little noticed by those in the room beyond those in their immediate vicinity, but Strohl hardly paid any mind. He would not have cared even if every eye in the room was trained on them. 

“You may think you’re so clever with your practiced words and your careful praises, but I know exactly what you are,” he warned. “You are a villain, a rake—nothing more than a no-good lecher after the prince’s body so you may win his hand. Am I wrong?” he challenged, “or are you not as ambitious as they say?” He punctuated this with a disingenuous pout. 

Louis stared at him coolly. Their faces were very close, and had Strohl a scent, it would have been flared at a flagrant display of hostility, just as Louis’s was. That garnered the attention of more bystanders than their exchange. 

The elda pursed his lips, then barked out a laugh. “My,” he mused, “the pitiful little pup has teeth, has he? Consider this my second earnest surprise of the day.” He then leaned forward, so his lips were dancing around the shell of Strohl’s ear as he murmured, “And what will you do about it, other than stand there and watch ?”

Will saved him. Strohl’s hand had no sooner flown to the hilt of the dagger at his hip that the prince, who had successfully begged Forden to be dismissed unbeknownst to them, arrived, and he called out Strohl’s name. 

“What’s going on?” he questioned nervously. 

The two alphas stared at one another with dilated pupils for a prolonged moment before Louis turned, faced the omega, and smiled gently, “‘Tis nothing, my darling. Your dear guard was merely congratulating us on the sanctioned beginning of our union.”

Though Strohl felt bile threatening his throat, he forcibly nodded and offered a weary smile. “That’s right,” he assured. “Lady Hulkenberg and I are terribly happy for you.”

The reassurance made Will beam, and Strohl felt his anger ebb. “That’s great!” With the sweetest of grins he gathered Louis’s arm between his own and lay his head against it. “Oh, Louis,” he sighed, “I am so terribly happy.”

With a smile the count bowed his head and nuzzled Will’s bangs with his nose. “As am I, my love. What shall we do with our first night publicly intended, hmm?”

Will thought on this for a moment before smiling up at him. “I thought we could do what we always do: read in the library until dinner time?” 

The blond’s smile was pleased as he hummed, “That sounds most appealing indeed.” They made to leave, but not without Louis looking back over his shoulder and calling wryly, “Not coming, lordling?”

Strohl groused under his breath as he trudged after them. 

Will entered the library, but Hulkenberg and Strohl stopped at the door. Louis blocked the doorway, faced them, and with a smirk said, “Apologies. An alpha and his intended are afforded some privacy. I’m afraid you’ll have to let your ears do the work for you.” 

The last thing Strohl saw before the door was shut was Will leaning back against one of the desks, his palms resting on the table, and his smile warm and anticipatory as he watched Louis. He and Hulkenberg stared at the wood and balked.

Somewhere around an hour later, the two alphas straightened up as the door cracked and opened. Strohl found himself hot in the face and sputtering in protest as Will walked past, his throat bruised and his hair mussed. His ire only grew when Louis emerged as well, and he smirked at the clemar as he buttoned his collar.

Unabashedly flirting and acting sweet on one another was damning; it was scandalous; but to leave love bites on one’s throat was a move bolder than even scenting. Scents, with enough scrubbing and time, dissipated when one was not mated. A love bite , however, was a mockery of that most sacred scar near the very place it was to be administered. It was a way to say to all who could see, “Look at what I’ve done. Look at what I will do.” It was a preview, a statement. It was brazen, and it did not stop there. In the coming weeks, those bruises did not disappear. They only grew darker, renewed with each and every vulgar meeting that Strohl could do nothing about. 

It was the beginning of the end. All of Strohl’s worst fears that he hadn’t even known he possessed were coming true in the blink of an eye. He was losing his prince to a villain, and as a result he was losing any sense of accomplishment he felt in his role. 

Louis lavished Will in tributes. The morning after Forden’s consent of the courtship, Strohl stood in the prince’s chambers holding reams of silk as the modiste fitted Will for his new summer wardrobe. Then entered a swarm of couriers carrying in their arms bouquets of outrageous size. One pranced about the room scattering flower petals as Strohl slowly swiveled to watch him with a consternated brow. 

A final arrival, serving as a herald, stopped short of the prince, unrolled a sheet of parchment, and cleared his throat before reading, “To my dearest beloved Will, they say that love is born in the spring, the season of new beginnings. Take these blossoms as a reflection of my own heart, flowered anew by your merciful touch. Within you will find the blooms of our hometown, so few of which have been preserved, yet remind me of you so strongly. A mere hour apart is felt as a lifetime. Until we meet again, think of me. Forever yours: Louis.” 

Will drew one of the offered bouquets into his arms and brought his nose to it with a soft chuckle and a dreamy expression. Strohl gaped in disgusted disbelief and shook his head. 

Aurissia relieved Will of the flowers, and he returned to his dressing stool so the modiste could resume his measurements. After a moment, Will spoke, “He really does love me, you know.” Strohl didn’t realize he was the one being addressed until Will peered over his shoulder and looked at him. “Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it isn’t so.” 

The clemar flushed at his displeasure being recognized, but he would not lie. He scoffed under his breath. “Perhaps you and I have different notions of love, Your Highness.” 

Will frowned. “What is love to you, then?” 

Strohl rather expected his complaints to be disregarded, like they usually were. He blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Love is…admiration born out of respect. It is kindness that does not need to be repaid. When an alpha loves an omega, they, they— why, they forget their own needs entirely, and they devote their very being to making their omega feel cherished, worthy, powerful. That is the sort of alpha who should be courting you, not someone like Louis. It should be someone closer to your age. Someone—”

“Someone like you?” There was mirth in Will’s voice when he posed the question, but it was said quietly, almost meekly, as though a part of him was reluctant to say it at all. 

It was indeed bold. Grius and Hulkenberg teased Strohl relentlessly about his purported crush on Will, but it was the first time the prince himself ever acknowledged it. Strohl blushed and averted his gaze downward. “I never said that. I just meant—” 

With a flip of his hand Will cast away his attendants, and he turned to face the alpha. He was dangerously beautiful. His neckline was low and off the shoulders, the pale lilac fabric ruched and tightly pinned down the center of his torso. Beneath the topmost layer was another of white, which was visible through its sheerness. The long hem sprawled out behind him, save for one center drape in the center. His perfect legs were clad in white tights. All of it was in the color white. Everything since Louis returned was all white and gold, all to make Will the prettiest trophy at Louis’s side. It made Strohl sick. 

“Every alpha thinks he can be better for me than someone else. You’re not the first to think this, and you won’t be the last.” His smile was small and sad. “That’s the one thing you don’t get about him. It’s not about how beautiful he is, how wealthy he is, how powerful—his age, his status, his offerings.” His chest rounded, and he raised his chin. “Louis doesn’t try to be anybody but himself with me. He’s not the better option. He knows exactly who he is.” 

But what if who he is is an unscrupulous, insufferable bastard? Strohl sighed. He did not say it. He said nothing more. He knew that he would get nowhere, that Will was too convinced in this way, so he instead nodded toward the omega and murmured, “That color looks good on you. I like the purple.”

Will turned to study himself in the body mirror, and he smiled pridefully as he smoothed down the fabric. “Thanks. Louis thinks so, too.”

Strohl watched them and resigned himself to defeat. Will was to be mated to a libertine, and Louis Guiabern was to become king. He could not imagine a worse possible outcome, but what more was he, besides an inconsequential, scentless guard? He was brought here to be a silent protector, not a decider of things. The only use for his mouth was to spread the wishes of Will, whose lips seldom spoke of or sought anything other than Louis. 

A week after their unsavory exchange in Will’s chambers, Strohl followed him and Louis as they had their daily walk through the gardens. It was an overcast day, though that did nothing in lessening the humidity that lingered in the air. Strohl was thus uncomfortable for more than one reason, and admittedly, he was sulking. Such was his disposition more often than not those days. 

He was, however, joined by a most unexpected addition. As the couple reached the fountain at the center of the hedge maze and stopped to talk, Strohl hung back, having at least enough decency to allow them privacy. It was during this that Strohl spied the sanctifex nearby, stopping to admire a rose bush. The alpha guardsman stared and blinked at him, and the rhoag noticed. At first, he merely nodded and smiled faintly in recognition. He then made his way over. 

“Young Count Strohl,” the beta greeted. “A fine morning, is it not?”

“Your Eminence.” Strohl bowed as he approached. He chuckled. “I fear I am no count yet, not while my father still lives, but yes, it is a fine morning indeed.” It wasn’t. His entire body was sweating. 

The elderly man let out a small mirthful laugh. “Quite true, and please—treat me as your sanctifex, not your king. I do so miss the familiar greetings of my children.” He extended an arm as he said, “Shall we walk?”

Strohl glanced at Louis and Will, but as they seemed engaged, he decided it would do no harm; and with a smile and nod he followed. They made a short circle around the rose bushes, Strohl lingering a step behind in deference to Forden's rank, and keeping in mind his duties as a protector. Though Will was his liege, Strohl would defend him just the same. 

“How are you adjusting to life in the palace?” Forden asked pleasantly. “Surely it must be quite different from the provincial life.”

Strohl nodded. “It is. It has been an adjustment, I won’t lie, but I like it very much, I think. At least, I enjoy my duties here. I am proud to serve His Highness.”

The rhoag let out a long hum. “Very good. We are happy to have you, of course, and I am pleased to hear that Will is minding his duties to his subjects by acting with grace. He is an intelligent and well-meaning young man, even if his…romantic tastes leave a little left to be desired.”

Strohl blinked. At first he did not process the meaning of the beta’s words, for it seemed impossible that he should speak ill of the union so openly. The alpha stared at him in shock for a moment before tentatively saying, “Yes, I agree.”

Forden raised a brow as he studied the guardsman. “You do, do you?”

Though the topic was already on the table, and though Strohl trusted Forden, he still chose his words carefully. Everything in the palace was a test of some sort. People were always trying to needle out information from someone else. “I am not the biggest fan of the young count,” said Strohl, his words unconsciously tainted with distaste. “I find his disposition to be somewhat disagreeable.”

He was safe. Forden laughed. “Oh, yes, that is to say the least.” The beta stopped near one of the bushes and admired a bloom while he watched Louis and Will where they sat. “That is the unfortunate thing about Louis: He is a formidable creature. Innately gifted, witty, charming, and of course, fanciful in those ways that young omegas seem to favor in this day and age.”

Strohl cleared his throat, while Forden continued. “By all metrics he could become a most successful and admirable figure in this kingdom’s history. To some, he already has, but.” The rhoag’s tone darkened. “I sense a darkness in him that cannot be cured by any manner of fortune. He returns the love he receives with falseness, and sadly, few have eyes to see his true nature.”

The words stole the breath from Strohl’s lungs. He watched them, too. For just a moment, Louis’s eyes rose and met his, and they were bright, blue, and terrible. They narrowed. Strohl quickly averted his gaze. 

“But why, sire?” he could not help but ask. “Why, then? Why did you sanction their courtship? Surely, the ramifications for His Highness…”

Having sensed they lingered for too long, Forden gestured for Strohl to continue walking with him. The clemar followed. “Because he is Louis.” When Strohl looked back at him in horror and surprise, he chuckled. “Fools left unchecked tend to do as fools do, young Strohl. You might think that I only encouraged further shameful behavior by granting my approval, but on the contrary.” He deeply sighed. “Both Louis and my young ward have long decided what they will do. To be frank, my approval mattered little. Without it, they would have continued their affair in secret, and in secret only depravity dwells. At least now, with all the eyes of court trained their way, Louis will be forced to play out his little games by the book, and that, my child, buys us time.”

Strohl could hardly believe it. He laughed softly and smiled. “So you brought them into the light. You sanctioned them for the prince’s protection.” Forden hummed. Strohl knit his brow. “But sire, if it is as you say, then why would Louis ask at all? Would not carrying on as he has been be more of a benefit to him?”

Forden smirked as they rounded a bend. “This I could not say with certainty, but I suspect that he did this because he perceived it to be some sort of slight against me.” He said this sourly. “If nothing else, understand this about Louis: everything he does, and everything he has and will do, is born from some misplaced notion of pride. In all things he sees a game, and it is his ultimate charge to declare himself the winner. Undoubtedly in Will, too, he sees a prize.”

If the prize is not Will himself , thought Strohl dourly as he studied the couple from afar. He frowned. After a moment, he asked Forden, “What are we to do about it, then, sire?”

Forden traveled a few paces ahead, stopped, and faced him. He smiled in his faint, placid way. “Wait for Louis to ruin himself. What else is there to be done?” He bowed his head shortly. “Young Strohl.”

Strohl returned the gesture. “Your Eminence.” He left. 

For the rest of the day, and all of the next, Strohl could not get Forden’s words out of his head. He stewed over them. They troubled him. He worried and obsessed and fretted. His own doubts in Louis were one thing, but to have them confirmed by Forden as well told Strohl that he truly had cause for concern. The only question was how to stop it. 

No one seemed alarmed enough, and that bothered Strohl. Was he overreacting? He did not think so. All his life, he had been told by anyone who broached the topic that alphas and omegas were in great peril by being intimately close before mating. All it took was one moment of passion, one instance of weakness, for Will to beg Louis to bite him, and should Louis’s restraint be weakened, too, their doom would be spelled for the rest of their lives. 

What if their cavalier behavior triggered an early cycle? What if Will did not truly love him, but in being unofficially claimed by him drove off his true beloved, who could have been in the wings waiting for their chance their entire time only to be deterred and finally give up?

The court omegas were having a tea party. The weather had abated, and they gathered in the gardens that Strohl and Forden traversed only two days before. Beyond a few rows of hedges the alphas were having a game of croquet. Strohl was the misfortunate soul who was assigned on guard duty. 

It was miserably hot with no reprieve, and it only worsened his abysmal mood. His sweat made another layer of clothing beneath what he already wore as he perused the buffet table. Will bade him eat, since all the nobility had already gone. He was never hungry when he was hot, only sour, but he never refused his prince, even in matters as trivial as this. 

As he forked cuts of honey-stewed pork onto his plate, a set of long fingers appeared to his right, and they plucked a shiny green grape from atop the bowl of salad. Strohl followed them dubiously as they raised to pop the fruit between pink parted lips. 

“Blasted hot day for a match. I fear I might wither,” moaned Louis. 

Strohl merely sniffed and reached over him to take some cheese. He could feel Louis’s stupid face smiling at him. 

“The cook must be roussainte,” the blond mused. “I find their cuisine to be most wanting. Cream settles most heavily in my stomach.”

Strohl slapped down the serving fork and finally faced him. “What do you want?” 

Louis was casually dressed. His decorated coat was unbuttoned, revealing the loose white blouse beneath, which was sheer and pink in places where it glued to the skin underneath with sweat. His breeches were pale gray, his riding boots polished and high. His hair was tied at his nape with a dainty piece of ribbon. Altogether, he looked quite unaffected, while Strohl knew himself to look something akin to a rat drowning in the gutters. It only made him angrier. 

The elda chuckled and smiled impishly. “Testy today, are we? Perhaps the heat has treated me rather kindly.”

Strohl hissed under his breath and elbowed Louis aside. “If you’ve nothing to say, then be gone with you. I’m entitled to a meal, too, and I don’t need you pattering in my ear while I have it.”

”I have come to tell you that I fear we have gotten off on the wrong foot, as they like to say.” Strohl’s hand stilled over the bread bowl as Louis spoke behind him. “Such animosity between us can only bode poorly for Will. I wish to remedy that and start anew.”

Though Strohl’s eye twitched at the use of Will’s given name in such a manner, he did not falter. He scoffed softly. “On the contrary, I would find it most negligent of me to allow you to continue this nonsense with no objection.”

”It is not nonsense,” said Louis plainly. “He is to be my mate.” 

Strohl faltered then . He even set his plate down so he could face Louis fully and scoff at him. “He is not your mate!” the younger alpha cried. “You are nothing more than his childhood crush —a fleeting fancy that would have expired with time had you not lied and manipulated him for years!” He laughed incredulously. “You have forgotten your place!” 

Louis pursed his lips. The practiced kindness that he previously maintained in his expression disappeared. “A commoner could be beaten for such an insult.”

”But I am not a commoner.” The guardsman was confident, even grave, when he said proudly, “I am Leon Strohl, the only son of House Haliaetus, and I have opinions of my own, which I will not hesitate to voice and most certainly not when it comes to you.” He stomped into Louis’s space and pointed a finger at him. “I think you are a liar, a scoundrel, and a charlatan through and through. You make pretty the same sort of underhanded tactics that thousands of men less fortunate than you use every day in the alleys of the capital. The only difference is they do their dirty work honestly.”

He did not realize he had jabbed his finger into the elda’s breast until Louis’s eyes traveled downward to look at it disdainfully. Strohl withdrew it and held his hand up for a moment as though it were marked by the contact. 

Strohl sniffed and looked down his nose. “I would sooner die than see you as the prince’s mate.”

Louis managed a strained smile and said, “So your opinions of me are laid bare. Not at all presumptuous, I assume.”

Strohl picked up his plate and offered a false smile. “Well, my friend Grius has this adage he likes to say. What was it again? Ah, that’s right. ‘A pile of shite still smells like shite even in the dark.’” Strohl plucked a grape to pop into his mouth and smiled sweetly. “Good day, Louis.”

In silence the elda remained and watched Strohl as he departed in brisk, confident strides. His eyes were low and curious, his lips pursed, and his thoughts racing. He stood there for a moment longer as Strohl stopped before one of his guard companions and exchanged words. Strohl began to head inside, but as he reached the top step, he paused, and he looked over his shoulder to meet Louis’s gaze one last time. Louis raised his ungloved hand and waved demurely. Strohl rolled his eyes and made on his way. 

The scene Louis witnessed was in fact Strohl requesting his fellow guard Alec switch with him. He did. Strohl headed determinedly to the guard quarters, where he knew that Hulkenberg and Grius were likely to be, considering they had not been cursed with overseeing the garden gathering. 

He entered the room briskly, and Hulkenberg grimaced. “Oh, God.” 

Strohl ignored her and announced, “I need your attention, please.” He slid his uneaten plate onto the table on which Grius was resting his feet and faced them. 

“I do hope it involves news of a bath,” the roussainte muttered. 

Again, Strohl ignored her. “We need to end the prince’s courtship.” 

He was, at first, met with silence. Then came the guffaws and scoffs. 

“Here he goes again!” Hulkenberg cried, throwing up her hands. 

Meanwhile, Grius chuckled lowly and shook his head. Heismay, their fellow guard, was selecting morsels from the table, and even he laughed quietly. 

Strohl, however, was undeterred. He even hardened his chest. “Laugh if you want. I realize that you all, and even the sanctifex, have resigned yourselves to doing nothing. I even understand the logic behind it! But mark me, even if nobody else stands with me, I will stop them. It is my purpose—it is our purpose! I don’t care how ludicrous it is!” 

Having had her fun, Hulkenberg pinched her brow and groaned, “ Strohl . Please don’t mistake my displeasure as disagreement. As I’ve said, we all hate the prospect of Count Louis mating with His Highness—” 

“But what have you done to stop it?” Strohl’s interruption was as brisk as it was breathless. The roussainte merely blinked at him, sparing only a glance at Grius in favor of seeing his reaction. He appeared as equally intrigued as Strohl continued, “You all say, ‘There is nothing to be done. This is just the way it must be,’ but why ? Why settle for these bleak prospects? We may not be able to tell Will to give it up, but well, what if he made the decision for himself?” 

Grius narrowed his remaining eye. “What is your meaning, lad?” 

Strohl laughed. “I mean—! What if we made him see what a villain Louis is with little more than some…external encouragement? What if we just set the stage, and allowed Will to see for himself?” 

Hulkenberg scoffed and smiled wryly as she shook her head. “You suggest that we—” 

“Sabotage them.” Strohl was adamant. “Look,” he defended, “Louis already has all the cards laid out. We just need to rearrange them.”

Grius chuckled, but he notably did not disagree with the notion. “It’d be quite the risk, what you’re posing. Should Louis or the prince catch on to us, ‘tis no’ likely to end well.” 

“But on the contrary,” said Strohl with a hopeful smile, “think of what we stand to gain.” 

The roussainte stewed on this for a long moment before groaning loudly and throwing up her hands. “Oh, blast, I’ll do it. I think you’re a dimwit at best, but you’ve a point,” she grumbled bitterly. “By standing idly as we are we are destined for Louis as a serpent king. At least, foolish as it is, with this we stand a chance of it not happening.” 

“And if the young prince bars us all from palace grounds and disgraces us for the rest of our lives?” wondered aloud Heismay. “A fallen old man like me has little to lose, but for you young ones, you’d strive to find a mate from here on, let alone an honorable occupation.” 

Amusingly, Strohl noted his statement less than the implication of him saying it at all. “You’ll be joining us, then?” he asked with a wondrous grin. 

“I am inclined to agree with the lady knight,” said the eugief. “I may resent your puerile games, but I resent Louis even more.” 

With a resounding sigh, Grius polished off his ale and stood. “So we’re in accord, then. We’re to thwart the romance through underhanded games in the count’s own style.” 

They assembled in a circle. Strohl extended his hand in the center. “Shall we come up with a catchy name for our operation?” 

“Please, God, wash your underarms.” 

That very night, they initiated their operation. That is, Strohl hunched over the writing desk in his dank cupboard of a room, and there he frantically scribbled down the best most likely ideas to humiliate Louis, but nothing seemed to stick. After the seventh foolish idea, he crumpled the parchment and shoved it aside with a groan. 

He was the mastermind of the idea, but he was not the best man to start it. Thankfully, he now had more suitable schemers on his side. 

“We should begin by gathering intelligence,” said Hulkenberg the next morning as they walked together through the main hallway with Grius. “That is the first thing they teach you when there is a target of suspicion.”

Grius hummed in agreement. “Very good, young Eiselin. So, who here knows Louis better than any other?”

They enacted their scheme in parts. After luncheon, Strohl lingered near Louis’s men with Heismay and yawned emphatically while stretching his arms high overhead. “Have you spoken with His Highness yet today?” he asked conversationally. 

The eugief sighed quietly and gravely. “I fear not. He’s still quite perturbed about what to do to celebrate Count Louis’s return.” 

Strohl sighed and shook his head sadly. “It is a great shame. He wants so badly for it to be perfect. If only we knew the count better, perhaps we could be of some use!” 

Junah, having taken the bait, turned to them and smiled. “Are you planning something for Lord Louis?” 

“Lady Junah,” muttered Fidelio quickly. 

Strohl smiled at the nidia and nodded. “That’s right. Well, His Highness is. He wants to do something special to mark His Lordship’s return, but after all these long years apart, I’m afraid he’s a bit stumped with what to do.” 

It was practiced dialogue. They came up with it just this morning while contemplating what possibly they could exploit. The gap in Will and Louis’s relationship was known to all, so it seemed an easy target. Strohl held his breath hopefully. 

“Well,” hummed the songstress, tapping her chin with her finger thoughtfully, “perhaps I could advise on a few simple things, but unfortunately, I have only been in Lord Louis’s retinue for a few months myself. Oh!” she cried, her face lighting up, “but you should speak with Fidelio!” She took the paripus in question by the shoulders and offered him. “He has known him for years!”

Fidelio flushed. “Lady Junah, please,” he stammered, “this seems like a bad idea!” 

With a furrowed brow, the omega woman pouted. “Oh, but sweet Del! Think of how precious it could be, to surprise Lord Louis so! And coming from the prince, it would make him so very happy!”

Basilio, having heard too much to remain silent, joined them with a grin. “She’s right, Del! All this time, and we’ve never given Lord Louis anything, let alone surprised him! I think it’d be a right lot of fun!” 

“Yes, yes!” Junah giggled. She pressed her cheek against Fidelio’s temple and hugged him. “Please?” she begged sweetly. 

The smaller paripus groaned. “All right, fine, you two! I’ll offer what I can,” he groused. The satisfaction of his brother and friend was resounding. Even Strohl, the father of the ruse, couldn’t help his genuine amused smile. 

Fidelio looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. Strohl found him to be an interesting fellow. He lacked the typical stature of an alpha, but his scent was what was truly perplexing. Strohl would have written him off as a beta, only that he had a scent. It was faint, but not in the way that suppressed scents were. If Strohl were to liken it to anything, it would be the way that alphas and omegas smelled when ill, like there was a layer of malaise obfuscating what would normally be bold. Only Fidelio did not seem sick. It was truly peculiar. 

“What do you want to know?” asked the paripus, crossing his arms. 

Strohl stammered and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we think that His Highness has a pretty decent sense of what Louis likes and dislikes in general, but are there things that he…avoids? Just so he knows what not to do,” he clarified with a wave of his hand. 

Heismay nodded. “Or things that he strongly dislikes. The last thing we want is to gift him a box of dainties only to find he detests the flavor.” 

Fidelio thought for a moment. “He has little taste for sweets, actually, so a box of dainties would be unwelcome entirely. Lots of spice, too.”

Strohl and Heismay shared a nod before the former asked, “That’s perfect. And what about his daily schedule? Knowing his usual path would allow us to decorate a room if the prince would like.” 

Fidelio raised a brow but still considered it. “Zorba might be better to ask, since he is Lord Louis’s retainer, but I know in the mornings he departs for his morning exercise in the gardens. Afterwards he bathes, then breaks his fast in the east tea room. From then on, lately he has been spending the day with the prince, so you lot would know that portion better than us.” 

It was plenty helpful. Strohl smiled and nodded. “Of course. I think that suffices for now.”

Basilio grinned. “Will you tell us when you know what the surprise is?” 

The clemar returned the expression. “Of course! We shall encourage His Highness to iron out the details quickly!” 

They devoted themselves to the scheme. They tried everything. With Fidelio’s intelligence, they knew roughly where to expect Louis and when. The next morning, Hulkenberg meandered about the main hallway until Strohl gave her the signal. She crossed the floor quickly and discreetly uncapped the bottle of oil tied to her belt so that its contents spilled across the marble. She assumed her position with staff in hand as Louis rounded the corner and approached.  

Louis took three of his usual confident strides before his heel met the oil slick. His eyes widening was the only reaction he had time to process, for he flew into the air, floundered, and summarily crashed onto his arse in a billow of ivory and gold. 

It should have been gratifying, how perfect the timing and how dramatically he fell, but Strohl was not allowed to feel any pleasure on account of his success. Nearly as soon as Louis’s rump hit the floor, it seemed as if every unmated omega in the palace was summoned from within the woodwork. They all came running, skirt hems and coattails clutched, with a resounding chorus of, Count Louis, Count Louis, are you all right? Are you hurt? Oh, the fool who neglected to clean this up should lose his hands for this! Count Louis, take my handkerchief! No, take mine! No, take my arm!

Strohl scoffed, shook his head, and looked at Hulkenberg, who merely raised her brows and pretended to be uninvolved. 

They tried everything, yet nothing seemed to work. Heismay arrived just in time for dinner, bringing with him from the city a satchel of powdered red pepper. Grius, under the guise of hurrying the kitchen staff with the excuse that Will was famished, was very thorough in sprinkling it into the sauce that he poured atop Louis’s roast. 

Plates were served, and Strohl cast his most convincing nonplussed glances toward the high table. It took only a few bites before Louis’s face, having been listening intently to whatever Will was saying to his left, contorted with confusion and disdain, and he brought his fist to his mouth to cough into it. He reached for his goblet and took a sip that did not appear to go down smoothly. No sooner than the stem hit the table did he dissolve into a coughing fit, one that could no longer be dismissed by a reassuring smile. 

At first, it worked, and Strohl forced himself to not grin, though his eyes were lively with hope as he glanced at his guard companions. The elda was drawing attention, and at last, it was not out of awe or lust. Forden cast the blond a displeased sidelong glance, and those seated at the front most tables leaned close to one another to whisper. 

It worked at first, but not for long. Will, having abandoned conversation in favor of worrying over Louis, finally located a pot of honey beside one of the bread bowls, and with all care and grace he spooned some of it into Louis’s mouth and began soothing his back in small circles to spare him of further embarrassment. Before long, Louis’s hacking ceased enough for him to speak, and Strohl could not tell whether he was more horrified or furious as he beheld the scene. 

The chocolates were no better. Strohl managed to convince Will that Louis was highly anticipating this season’s select bonbons at The Candied Hare, and with great excitement Will bade a courier deliver three boxes specially for his beloved. They were not there to see Louis’s unamused frown as he entered his apartments to the sight of his gift, but Strohl and Hulkenberg were afforded the pleasure of giggling as they watched Will sweetly offer one to Louis in the gardens the next morning, and the blond elda’s forced smile when he replied, “Delicious,” to Will’s question of how they tasted. 

They had a dozen bouquets of Louis’s least favorite flower delivered to his apartments. They sprinkled dirt onto his seat outside before he arrived to stain his garments. They even paid a randomly selected member of the grounds staff, a hulking and mute alpha who was somehow always coated in sweat, to scent Louis’s laundry before it was delivered. 

And what did they have to show for it? When their pranks weren’t earning the woe and fretting of every omega in the vicinity, they were amusing Will, who seemed less disconcerted by their valiant efforts to make his intended appear bumbling and clumsy, but rather more enamored than ever. Will was not deterred by Louis’s ink-stained teeth or bruised tailbone. Louis’s mishaps earned a tender brush and an adoring smile, not the disgust of his intended. 

At the end of the fifth day of their scheme, as Will lay clutching his belly while pealing with laughter beside Louis on their picnic blanket, Strohl knew their cause was a lost one.

They wallowed in their defeat in the guard’s quarters. With a pout, he crossed his arms and told Hulkenberg, “I think we need a new strategy.”

”If there even is one,” the roussainte sighed. “The man is unshakable.”

Strohl peeled off his gloves and shook his head. “There has to be something. I don’t know what it is. We just can’t see it yet.”

Grius took a long drag from his pipe and chuckled. “Let’s just give it a rest for now, lad. We’ve done all we can for now.”

”’All we can,’ which is another way of saying, ‘nothing at all.’” The clemar pinched his brow and eventually sighed. “No, you know what? This is pointless. I’m just going to talk to the prince myself.”

Hulkenberg raised a brow high. “Is not the futility in doing just that why we devised this scheme in the first place?”

Strohl pinched a handful of nuts, sniffed, and shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps I just did not convey my sentiments clearly enough. Either way, it is worth a try, is it not? We’ve all said it by now. We’re getting nowhere like this.”

The alpha woman looked at Grius warily for some assistance, but the rhoag merely shook his head gravely and closed his eye, as if to say, Let him have this . 

When Alec and Annelise entered, Strohl thought little of it. It was not until the two alphas were comfortably settled and enjoying buttered bread that Strohl realized why their presence was strange. He ceased his contemplative chewing, sat forward, and with a stern brow asked, “Say, Alec, who is on door duty?”

Alec stopped spreading butter and slowly lowered his bread. He frowned. “Why, I thought it was you, Strohl.”

The clemar processed this for only a moment before he groaned and rose from his chair. “Well, come on then!” he cried. “If we’re all here, then who’s guarding the prince?”      

Before his guardians ever observed his absence, Will set out on a mission of secrecy of his own. He made sure to plan it carefully. He knew that Alec and Annelise would be easily convinced that Strohl and Hulkenberg had volunteered to be posted outside his door, but the duration of his reprieve depended solely on how soon they encountered the victims of the lie. If Strohl saw them away from their station, he would likely put the pieces together quickly. That just meant that Will had to be faster than the onset of Alec’s appetite. 

He waited a trice after hearing their footsteps depart before slipping out of the room. The hour was late, but not late enough for bed. The palace residents who were not enjoying the singing of the beautiful Lady Junah in the grand parlor were likely taking their evening stroll. That did not mean that there would not be random strays in the halls, but the behavior of courtiers was, largely, predictable. 

Much as a sheltered prince comes to know the habits of his home’s occupants after a decade, Will had learned well how to sneak. He knew just how to keep his steps brisk, but not hurried enough that he couldn’t stop on a whim, were he to cross paths with anybody. On his way he only encountered two passersby, both of whom he prayed were convinced by his sweet and casual smile. 

Louis had summoned him. Earlier that day, the alpha passed him a new book to read, a little habit they had picked up as of late, and whispered, “I think you’ll find the first page most captivating.” There, tucked between the title and first pages, was a small square of paper that read, “Meet me in the west drawing room after dark.” Naturally, Will determined that he would do just that, come what may. For the rest of the day he pondered and plotted his course of action, and here he was. Here they were. 

Will’s breath was bated when he reached the stately doors, and he could not help but succumb to his anticipation and linger for a moment, even though he recognized the risk in being seen in doing so. He raised his fist and knocked twice. After a pause, the right door cracked, and like a vision, Louis’s face appeared between them. 

“My prince,” he greeted in his cool, playful way, closing his eyes and bowing his head. 

Will’s smile belied his breathlessness. He caught his lower lip with his teeth. “Hi.” 

The blond stepped back and opened the door further, and Will stepped inside. He was a hopeless slave to his scent, which he knew was flourishing at the mere sight of the alpha. His excitement in seeing Louis he could abide, but the pathetic amount of desire that he inevitably felt was something he could only hope remained secret. He did not mind Louis knowing that he longed for him, but he had the dignity at least to wish for his clenching thighs and groin to remain hidden. 

Louis took a few steps back into the room, and Will undid the topmost button of his sheer cape with a smile. The room was made comfortable and ambient by the gentle glow of the fireplace. “You wanted to see me.” 

“I did,” mused Louis with a chuckle, “and now I fear I am seeing too much of you.” This was said less with ridicule than it was with amusement. He reached out an appraising hand to ghost over Will’s hip, which was bare above the waist of his satin lilac shorts, all the way up to his chest. His breast was covered by an overlapping band of white muslin, which met behind his neck as a halter. “You came here like this?” 

“I always dress like this,” said the prince airily, for his breath hitched from the touch. He felt a rush of boldness, adding, “I can wear less.” To punctuate this, he plucked the second button free, and his cape slid down his arms and onto the floor as though it possessed its own consciousness, and it played its part quite well. 

With a smirk Louis curled his fingers around the omega’s chin, and after a dourly muttered, “I’ve little doubt in that,” he kissed him deeply. 

Will acquiesced instantaneously. His shoulders slumped, his lungs deflated, and he moaned softly as he gathered the alpha’s face between his hands. Will kissed him like his very life depended on it. He was all things at once: assertive and intense when he felt that Louis craved it, then submissive and pliant when he sensed the opposite. 

He parted Louis’s hair on either side of his neck and brought it forward onto his chest so that he may hold it, just as Louis held the small of his waist, then the swell of his hips, and finally the curve of his backside. Will craned on his tiptoes, and his alpha bent to meet him. 

It was good, but not quite enough. Will’s hands traveled down the shape of his chest and settled on his biceps, which he felt admiringly. With a soft chuckle he removed his lips from Louis’s, and he instead kissed his way along his chin, then his jaw, and finally his throat. There, he mouthed with a quiet moan until his desire gave way to bravery, and he licked a sweet stripe over the alpha’s scent gland. 

Though it at first earned an appreciative moan, one that resonated from deep within the alpha’s chest and made Will’s knees wobble, he was not as reciprocative as the prince would have liked. Indeed, after Will did this, Louis gently took him by the shoulders and pushed him back. 

“As tempted as I am, believe me, I am afraid that I summoned you here not for this.” His smirk was no doubt in response to the way Will was pouting. 

“No?” Will tried to lessen the disappointment that dampened his voice. He pressed his palm against the other elda’s chest. “Why, then?” 

Louis laid his hand upon the omega’s and stroked it gently with his thumb. “We need to discuss your godfather.” 

Not even his beloved Louis was exempt from broaching tedious topics, it seemed. Will rolled his eyes and sighed as he removed Louis’s hand and walked away. He made for one of the big comfy lounge chairs that lived in the room. “You’re even worse than my guards sometimes, you know.” 

With an amused chuckle Louis followed, slowly meandering across the aged wooden floor with his hands behind his back. “You do know they were the cause of all my recent ‘mishaps,’ don’t you?” 

Will leaned back in the seat so that his head was resting languidly against the cushion, his snowy hair splayed about prettily around him. “They’re just jealous of you.” 

“And they should be,” said Louis simply as he tucked his coattails beneath him when he sat. “On my arm I’ve the most beautiful omega in the kingdom.” 

The prince smiled. He could not be sour with Louis for long. He reached across the gap between their chairs for Louis’s hand. He wrapped his index finger around the alpha’s. “Forden, then?” 

Louis hummed. He ran his hand down his thigh to smooth out a wrinkle. “I will speak frankly, my darling: I fear there has never been a greater threat to our prospects than now.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Will, his pale brow furrowed in confusion. “He just gave us his blessing. Even you couldn’t believe it!” 

The blond’s nod was slow and grave. “Indeed. At the time, I was astonished. It was a fantasy made true. I even dared to believe, even if only for an ephemeral moment, that this silly war between us was over, and finally your happiness was his priority.” 

Will raised his brows expectantly. “But?” There was always a “but” with Louis. 

“But then, I gave it some thought. In fact I have done little else these past days but ponder the motives behind such a gambit. There is always a motive behind the decisions at court, Will.” He twisted in his seat so he was facing the prince, his features hard. “I believe that it is Forden’s game to bring us closer together. Increased proximity increases risk. I believe that Forden wishes for us to err gravely, and by doing so, ruin us both.” 

Will shook his head and withdrew his hand. He hugged himself. “No.” 

“And in ruining us arises an excuse to rid himself of me for good, and with your reputation besmirched, the throne is left vacant for the taking.” 

“Louis, no.” Will said this firmly. “I know you have your differences, and I know what he’s done to keep us apart in the past, but this is absurd. I mean, driving a wedge between us is one thing.” He laughed incredulously. “But ruining my life? Sentencing me to, to a life of asceticism and shame just to spite one alpha he dislikes? He’s looked after me for years! He swore to my father that he would protect me!” 

“Just as he protected you when he set your home aflame and slaughtered your mother?” 

Will stiffened. His next swallow was heavy. He could not look Louis in the eye. “You have no proof of that.” He heard Louis sigh. This, even after all this time, was still their greatest point of contention. Louis had his beliefs. He held them for nearly as long as since they left the sanctum. Perhaps he held them even on the day they left, but he hadn’t yet found the courage to reveal them to Will. 

“You’re too cynical,” whispered the omega. “You see the worst in everybody before a word is ever spoken. Why can’t we just be happy with what we have for once?”

“Will,” sighed Louis. For a moment he was silent. There was a resignation in his tone that no one besides Will could detect. “We cannot be happy with what we have because we have nothing. Nothing is ours to claim. Don’t you see that?” 

“We have each other.” 

Louis took his hand and held it tightly so that Will could not retreat. There was such earnestness in his eyes then that Will could not look away even had he wanted. “We do, but only for now. I would have you forever, and bound to you I would be in such a way that no mortal act could ever separate us. But think about it, Will. Think. Why now? What has changed? From four years ago, a decade ago—even a fortnight ago. Why now? Why me ?” 

Though his heart hurt, Will forced himself to speak. “Say you are right, then. Say I humor you, and Forden does want to damn us both. What would you have me do? We can’t. Louis, you can’t—” 

“It has not come to that yet.” 

“ Louis .” 

“For now,” the blond interrupted, squeezing Will’s hand, “we exercise caution. We operate as though every action is a test, and our moderators are every last person in this palace. We do not give in. We prove to them, Will, that our love is every bit as chaste and true as any other fledgling courtship.” 

Will scoffed bitterly under his breath. “So we can’t be close anymore. There can’t be any intimacy between us.” 

Louis offered a plaintive smile. “Not entirely. We simply must take care, Will.”

He did not want to say it. He did not want to give voice to his thoughts, which he knew were petulant and immature, yet his indignance was so strong that he could not deny it. “How do I know this isn’t just your way of rejecting me?” he asked quietly. “That I’ve made you uncomfortable, and this is easier than telling me outright.” 

It was Louis’s turn to frown. “Will,” he said seriously, “when have I ever lied to you about my regard? Hmm? Do you truly believe I would pay you the disrespect of lying to you to spare me from inconvenience?” 

When Will was still not swayed, his head lowered and eyes crestfallen, Louis reached over, lifted his chin, and while staring deeply into his eyes said, “Will, I propose all of this to protect our love so that one day, I may have you all night, each and every night, until all of those parts of you that feel hollow are full, and you remember nothing— nothing , Will—but the shape of me inside you, and the ghost of my teeth deep in the column of your throat. That, my love, is why I say this.”

Will wanted to say more. He wanted to protest, pout, and sulk, but he found that he could say nothing at all. Eyes dazed and choler soothed, he turned his cheek into Louis’s touch, and against his palm he murmured, “I love you, Louis.”

Louis bridged the gap between them, and against Will’s forehead he pressed a kiss. “And I you, Will.”

Chapter Text

“Morning!” 

“Good morning to you, Strohl.” 

The young clemar’s arms swung as he ascended the small hilltop on which Hulkenberg stood. The tempestuous breeze blew her long hair around her head in a surge of crimson. Above them, the clouds were dark and swollen. The sunny spell they had savored the past week would soon end. 

Strohl stopped a couple feet short of her and nodded. “The prince?” 

With a somber curl of her lips, the roussainte bowed her head toward the distance. “He is still paying his respects.” 

They had little strayed from Will’s side since he evaded them to visit Louis in the late hours of the night. Strohl knew that the prince resented being hovered around in such a way, and he regretted that; but at moments like this, when Will seemed so utterly alone, Strohl could not help but feel thankful for their proximity. 

The guardswoman’s elegiac mood transferred to Strohl as he scaled the slope and approached. Across the field of billowing grass Will could be seen knelt before the looming stone of his ancestral mausoleum. His black-clad figure was prostrated low, his hands clutched before his obscured face in impeccable sanctist dedication. 

Strohl did not speak when he reached the prince. He stopped beside him, closed his eyes, and bowed his own head. After a moment, he first felt the weight of Will’s eyes looking up at him, and then, his smile. 

They both uttered a quiet “closurei,” and Will said, “I’m impressed. None of the others have ever been brave enough to get this close—or maybe insolent enough?” he added with a playful tilt of his head. 

Strohl laughed softly. “Well, I’ve no qualms about saying hello to His Late Majesty.” Strohl punctuated this with a supplication so quick that Will giggled at its speed. They looked at one another and shared a smile. 

The clemar averted his eyes before noting, “You are a devoted son. I heard that the only time anyone has seen you delinquent in visiting is when you are laid in.” He, of course, referred to the prince’s cycles, but he was not indelicate enough to say it. 

Will’s expression was curious: a small smile that was certainly not wholehearted, but rather bemused. “I like visiting my father,” he explained with a degree of hesitation, “but I cannot honestly say I would do it so routinely on my own accord.” He averted his eyes from the tomb before them and glanced at the ground for a moment before looking up through his lashes at Strohl. “It is Forden’s decree. On Idlesdays, I go to see my father. It’s my duty.” 

Strohl hardly knew what to say. With both his parents living and few others in the way of relatives, he had little wisdom when it came to death, and little wisdom in comforting others eloquently in general. Still, he knew he could not very well be silent, not when Will was so earnestly sharing his thoughts. Strohl loved hearing his thoughts. 

“That must be hard,” is what the clemar settled on. It was delivered with careful hesitance. “Feeling obliged to come here, even if you didn’t want the reminder for once.” 

Will had not stood since Strohl arrived. He smoothed out the small satin handkerchief he had been holding onto his right thigh. It was black, like the rest of his costume. He wore the mourning color whenever he visited the royal cemetery. It reminded Strohl of the day they met. Will wore black then, too. 

The omega hummed bittersweetly. “It is hard sometimes. How do I even…” He shook his head. 

Strohl shuffled in place for an instant before lowering himself to the ground beside Will. Maybe it was slightly improper, but Strohl told himself that it was only them here, and that besides, it felt awkward and even somewhat demeaning to talk to Will from so far above, especially about a topic such as this. Will seemed to appreciate it, even, if the small but earnest smile he gave Strohl once the clemar was safely beside him was any indication. 

“I loved my father. I did, but I hardly knew him. It’s the truth,” muttered Will. He ripped up some grass as the wind rustled his hair beneath his sheer ebony veil. “It’s hard to miss someone you’ve never met. No, by the time I came to live here, he was already…” He made a frenetic gesture with his hand, and Strohl nodded. The alpha knew what he meant. “And then, you know, my father is here, but not my mother—not my sire. She never got to be buried, and even if her body could, they wouldn’t let it happen.” The sadness in his eyes was so heavy then that Strohl could hardly breathe. “Not an elda, buried here. She wasn’t even the queen.” 

“Your Highness…” murmured Strohl, his brow wrought. 

“If he really loved her like they say, she should be here, too.” The prince traced the stone plaque before him, gaze low and pensive.  

The general details of Will’s birth were a well-known secret at court. That is, everyone knew that Will was the product of an illegitimate union. The king’s omega mate, to whom he had been betrothed since infancy, died soon without ever having borne a royal heir. In the two years following, the young and newly unmated king set off to clear his mind by way of traversing the map. It was during this continental expedition that the late king visited the former eldan sanctum, and there, like so many young omegas his age, he found himself swept away in a sea of pheromones and romance. 

Will, of course, was the result. The rest was never explicitly told to Strohl, however, he deduced that the prince’s conception caused quite the scandal, and by the metrics of the fickle and superficial court, it was easily determined that Will—a bastard and an elda at that—could never be permitted to live with the king as his heir, nor could his alpha mother ever be recognized as sire of the crown prince. Thus, the infant Will was forced to remain in the sanctum under the care of his mother, while King Hythlodaeus returned to suffer the doldrums of youth scorned. 

It was rumored that these actions were wrought at Forden’s behest, with the sanctifex insisting it was for the king’s protection. None could ever guess, of course, that less than a decade later the sanctum would be razed and its occupants brutally murdered, nor could they guess the king’s subsequent depression and impending death. All of these things, rumor and fact both, were the circumstances of Will. What Strohl knew of his life appeared to be painful and hardly easy. 

Strohl had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to take Will in his arms then. The prince—who had so effectively up until that point appeared to be a spirited and self-sufficient young man—seemed then to be small and as delicate as finely blown glass. There was a hurt in him that had long been bare and bleeding but hidden from view, and Strohl ached to curl himself around it and shield him from any pain that dared come his way. 

It did not occur to Strohl in that moment just how unlikely it was for their kingdom as they knew it to abide an elda sitting on the throne, let alone two. 

“You were close with her, then?” asked Strohl.

The prince nodded. “She was the only parent I ever had, really. She raised me.” The omega pursed his lips. He trained his gaze on his knees in hopes that the distraction would prevent the tears that were already burning in his eyes from swelling any further. “When I was sick, she cared for me. When I was naughty, she punished me. When I did something worthy, she praised me. I don’t remember my father’s scent. His visits when I was young were so few. By the time I came here, he was sick, so there was nothing left, but my mother…” A pretty tear spilled forth and slid down his cheek. Strohl’s finger flexed instinctively. “I miss her so badly. Now, none but Louis remain to remember her. It’s just me. Not even here is she memorialized.”

Strohl, for all his stirring urges, did not have to reach out for Will or beg him close. Will found him. The prince released a soft sound and against Strohl’s shoulder he rested his head. The entire time, Strohl did not—could not—breathe. It was a moment remembered equally by the immensity of his longing as it was by a profound sense of fondness. The latter emotion was difficult to rationalize, for Strohl was not happy that Will was morose, but rather, such a sweet scene of vulnerability allowed Strohl to feel even closer to him. For the first time, Strohl truly wanted to kiss him, not out of his usual superfluous and impulsive tendencies, but as a hopeless admirer. For the first time, Strohl felt tenderly for Will, and not for the pretty prince who was beloved by all who saw him, yet known by none of them. 

The alpha allowed himself this moment of impropriety. He exhaled through his nostrils tremulously and turned his head, so that his nose was pressed into the veil atop the omega’s head. Strohl breathed him in: his sweet sugared scent, like an ocean adulterated by the extract of vanilla. He was an orchard of ripe clementines and blossoms. A kiss of honey, emboldened by a sour bite of berries that Strohl yearned to drink in.  

I’m here , he longed to say, and I always will be. Strohl would have told him anything if it could have enabled Will to know just how softly he felt for him then, yet he found nothing to say. His bravery having conjured nothing, he allowed himself the next most daring trespass, and he rested his hand atop Will’s. 

He did not intertwine their fingers, nor did he take the prince’s hand into his grasp. He merely lay his own there, a closeness that they never before shared, but one that Strohl hoped was neither too daring nor too presumptuous. 

It seemed to be acceptable. The omega looked first at their joined hands, then up at Strohl. The smile that played on his lips was constant. “Thank you,” whispered the prince. 

Strohl’s mouth twitched, and he took one last deep breath. “Anytime. Always.” 

Their perfect moment was interrupted by the devil himself. “Will,” called Louis from behind as he approached. His voice stole Will from the bubble of their private reverie. 

Sitting up and withdrawing his hand from beneath Strohl’s, he looked over his shoulder and with a smile greeted, “I’m just here, Louis. We were paying respects to my father.” 

The blond raised a quizzical brow as he stopped near them. “Indeed?” The obvious doubt in his tone irritated Strohl.  

Strohl took the cue, even if he dreaded it. With a soft grunt he pushed off his knees and stood. “I suppose I’ve had my turn. I’ll give you two some privacy.” 

The blond did not protest this, but Strohl did feel his cool gaze following him as he stepped away. Its weight was strange, and Strohl disliked that he did not know what it meant. He felt listless and longed to depart, even if it meant leaving Will alone with him. 

“I won’t be far,” he said to Will with a small smile, and after sparing Louis a glance, he finally left. He returned to the cemetery gates, so that he may still see the couple, but he was not close enough to hear their conversation. Before long Louis replaced him on the ground at Will’s side, and before long Will’s head strayed to his shoulder, just as it had to Strohl’s. 

It rained that day. It came in a heavy torrent, the first of its kind since Strohl arrived. It cemented his glum mood, and confined within the palace walls, he watched it through windowpanes and archways with sullen sighs and obvious pouts. His mood was not the only one changed. The palace residents strongly favored time outdoors, and their dispiritedness was tangible in the air. 

It was on one of these days that the lady Junah, who at the time was leisurely splayed out on a lounger, addressed him. “You know, troubles are seldom solved by moping and longing. Take it from me,” she giggled, “for I do dearly love to do both.” She looked at Strohl upside down, her head hanging off the edge of the seat. Her endless waves of gold pooled on the floor in a picturesque iridescent puddle. 

Strohl at first looked at her over his shoulder as she spoke, but out of respect he turned and faced her fully. His smile was plaintive. “Forgive me, Lady Junah. I was just thinking about…things,” he muttered dismissively. 

The nidia sat up and crossed her legs with a smile. “Well! Must I guess?” After scooting over, she patted the seat beside her eagerly. “Come sit. I love listening.” 

The alpha hesitated considerably. From what little he knew of Junah, he liked her well enough, but he was still aware of her proximity to Louis, and that besides, she was an omega. He did not wish to send any unwanted messages to anybody who may be near. In the room were two others—a beta and another alpha, if their scents were any indication—but they were browsing books. Their names he did not know. 

Still, being suppressed as he was, he supposed he could press the boundaries a little further than others might. Even that besides, he was off-duty. What could one little chat hurt? 

With a stiff nod he made his way over and sat. Junah commented on this. “Are you not meant to be with His Highness?”

Strohl shook his head. “Hulkenberg and Alec are overseeing his studies. I’m merely existing, I suppose.” 

The omega giggled. “God forbid. And what do you like to do when you are ‘merely existing’ and not guarding the prince?” 

An intriguing question. Strohl blinked as he pondered this. “I…don’t know, really.” He followed this with a deprecating, quiet chuckle. “I’ve not really kept any hobbies since I arrived. I write to my parents,” he added with pursed lips. “I like to exercise. I train. Sometimes I spend time with the other guards.” 

Junah clicked her tongue and made a grave sound low in her throat. “Oh, dear,” she hummed. “That sounds most dreadful.” 

Strohl scoffed and looked at her. “What do you mean? That’s what I do!” 

“Well, I’ve gathered that, but isn’t that, well…depressing?” She shrugged. “You must have a life outside your duties! No wonder you’re so sullen!” 

Strohl was offended by her judgment but not seriously so. He was mostly amused that she was being so forthcoming in her opinions of someone she hardly knew. “What can I say? I’m dutybound. I always have been. What does an alpha have other than his oath?” 

The nidia let this simmer for a moment before resting her chin atop her hand. She studied him, tiny brows wrought in concentration, then smiled impishly. “Why, you’re a charming and handsome man. You could engage in a courtship! Any omega would surely be glad for your attentions.” 

Shaking his head, Strohl said, “No, no, it’s impossible. At least, right now it is. I mean, have you smelled me?” 

Junah sniffed the air a few times for show. “Yes! And you smell nice, though faint. So what? Betas can’t find love?” she asked wryly. 

Strohl smirked at her. “You know that’s not what I meant. Besides,” he sighed, “it’s strictly forbidden. If I somehow ended up mated, it would aggravate His Highness’s senses, and my purpose here would be futile. No.” He stretched out his legs and studied his boots. They were in need of polishing. “There will be no romance for me until the prince himself is mated.” 

Junah hummed and looked at his boots, too, in lieu of anything else. “Surely, His Highness wants for you to have a life beyond him,” she mused quietly. 

Strohl figured he had endured enough questioning on his part, so he cocked his head and smirked faintly as he looked at her. “What about you, then? You’re noticeably unscented. No alpha suitors for you? And don’t you dare try to play coy, either. I’ve seen how the alphas here watch you—at least, when Count Louis isn’t around,” he added bemusedly. 

The nidia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Oh, don’t you start, too. And no, before you ask, he and I are not involved!”

He wanted to reply playfully, hiss and tease, but he could not help but voice his concerns. Strohl could never go long without doing so, and in matters concerning Junah, he did not know if he would find the chance again. “But there is a risk, is there not?” he asked carefully. “With you and him both being unsuppressed and unmated. If your scent were to spike, or if he approached the early stages—” 

“I’m going to stop you there, firstly because it’s improper, and secondly, because you are being presumptuous. Do you think I just stumbled my way into Lord Louis’s presence without any care for caution?” She crossed her arms. “We both know what we are, and we deal with it carefully. For my part, not that it’s any of your business, I can feel my cycle coming a mile away, and I know when to make myself scarce accordingly. And when it comes to Lord Louis, well, he may not believe in suppressants by nature, but trust, he has his ways of dealing with matters when the time comes!” 

Junah seemed to realize her error just as Strohl finally made sense of the preposterous things she was saying. He was so taken aback by the “doesn’t believe in suppressants” bit that the more incriminating and absurd statement nearly escaped him. 

She was already retracting her statements, but Strohl interrupted, “I’m sorry, wait—when you say ‘dealing with matters,’ you couldn’t possibly mean—”

Junah leaned forward and hushed him loudly. Ironically, her effort to quiet him aroused attention where they hadn’t been before, and she did not continue speaking until their present company returned their attention elsewhere. 

Regret was obvious on her face, but she explained in a quiet hiss, “It’s not for others to know, but yes , Lord Louis experiences his cycles…naturally, so to speak, and in experiencing them thus, he…deals with them in that way nature calls for.” 

Strohl was speechless. No, he was aghast—horrified, even. His complexion was blanched, and his mouth was agape. When he could manage to speak again, his voice was choked and thin. “Are you saying that he— during his ruts, outside of the mating bond, he—” 

“Shh!” Junah cried, clamping her hand over his mouth. Her face was scarlet then. “God, be quiet ! But yes ,” she hissed, “that is what I’m saying, since you cannot understand delicacy! But like I said, this is not common knowledge, and it must stay that way!” She only withdrew her hand when it seemed that Strohl would not passionately protest. 

The clemar blinked at her a few times. “Of course,” he stammered. 

Now, it must be noted that Strohl fully recognized how duplicitous it was to swear to sweet Junah’s face that he would keep her secret only to promptly do the very opposite, and he did in fact stew over this a good deal as he stomped through the corridors to find Hulkenberg. 

Find her he did. The roussainte was in the midst of a conversation with their fellow guard Albirt when Strohl walked up and blurted, “I need to speak with you,” before she could even finish her sentence. 

The alpha woman narrowed her eyes and frowned at him on account of her rudeness. She crossed her arms and sighed. “You can wait a minute, can’t you? We’re discussing important matters related to His Highness—”

“And so am I,” said Strohl. “Much more important than yours even, I’d dare say.” 

While Hulkenberg scoffed, Albirt looked between them and smiled crookedly. “Looks like you’ve business to tend to. I’ll see meself out. We’ll talk ‘bout it later, yea?” 

Hulkenberg muttered under her breath before groaning, “Yes, carry on then, friend.” She faced Strohl and tapped her foot sourly. “Well! Speak, fool, or forever silence your tongue.” 

Strohl took her by the arm and led her toward the wall. This seemed to convince his friend that the topic at hand was indeed serious and not his usual hyperbole. She looked at him expectantly, her eyes wide and intrigued. 

“I’ve heard something about Louis.” He looked both ways to ensure no eavesdroppers were near before lowering his voice. “Rather than suppress himself and grin and bear it like the rest of us, he suffers his ruts. That is, he’s nursed through them.” He blushed. 

Hulkenberg processed this for a moment, her expression straying from perplexity to surprise to concern. She inhaled sharply. “That is, even with the prince— even despite the implications—”

Strohl nodded.

After a trice, the redhead filled her chest and heaved an exhale. She appeared neither scandalized nor angry, but rather disheartened. “How did you learn this?” she asked gravely. 

Strohl hesitated then. “I overheard it. His men were talking about it. I left as soon as I heard.” 

She pinched her brow and moaned. “This is most grievous indeed. If His Highness were to discover this…” When she trailed off only to be welcomed by expectant silence, she realized. Her eyes shot open. “Strohl, no .” 

“Look, I know how awful it is, but we cannot back down now. Not after we’ve made up our minds only to face failure. Hulkenberg, this is for the prince’s sake. I would not dare suggest it otherwise!” 

“In the greater scheme of things, yes,” she scoffed in resignation. Her brows were knit. “But at what cost? And how long must he bear the immeasurable burden of heartbreak before the wrong is righted?” 

Strohl was not blind to what she was saying. Of course he knew it would hurt Will, but sometimes you had to hurt others for their protection, did you not? It was just as Forden had done all these years. Will may have resented him, but he was safe. He was healthy. 

“He’ll recover once he realizes what a blackguard Louis is,” said Strohl with a nod that seemed meant to convince him more than his companion. “All these years Will has waited and saved himself for this man. Double standards be damned, why— it’s just not fair, and he deserves to know.” Then, after a moment, he said very decidedly, “We need to see the prince.”

Hulkenberg nodded.

Will was in the reading room with Louis and a few others. Louis had been preoccupied with war meetings all morning, leaving a very restless Will to eagerly wait for him. Will’s version of waiting, of course, entailed flitting from room to room and trying in vain to read. 

Now, at last, his beloved was returned to him, and though the omega was overjoyed to be near him again, he was at present anything but happy. 

“It’s so hot,” the prince moaned from his dramatic sprawl across the lounger on which he lay. Though his garments were already as light and sheer as propriety would allow, he had undone the top four buttons of his muslin blouse, and his stockinged feet rested in Louis’s lap. There was no corset today. Will could swoon at the thought. 

Though his skin had more of a sheen than usual, if Louis was affected, he did not voice his displeasure as Will did. For the better part of the past hour he was reading, as he and Will originally agreed to meet there to do. Poor Will could only make it through a few pages. Louis seemed to make do after popping a few buttons of his own and untying his ascot. 

The older elda took to absently stroking or holding the prince’s feet as he read, his only pause in this whenever he removed his hand to turn the page. Will would have savored this, for whenever Louis’s hand returned to his body, he found something new to do: Sometimes he would massage the ball or heel of his foot, sometimes he would lightly circle his ankle. Other times he merely soothed his palm up and down his calf, seeming to enjoy the texture of his hosiery on his cool yet clammy skin. 

Will could not relish it, however. It was too damned hot. The incessant rain brought with it swells of humidity that could not be dissipated by fresh air, since the windows demanded to be shut on account of the wetness. Sometimes, Will burst onto the balconies to be near the arches, just so he could feel the cool flowing air on his skin, even if it meant he got wet and soon thereafter chastised for it. 

The prince’s petulant huff finally drew Louis’s gaze from the page, and the corner of his mouth curled upward at the pitiful yet endearing display his omega made. “Lazing about can only be a detriment to you, I’m sure. After all, time is all that can relieve us of this accursed weather, and time would be faster passed if you perhaps found some employment.” He lifted Will’s foot to press a kiss to the top of it, his eyes creasing mirthfully as he looked down at him. It only made Will feel hotter. 

“Like what?” The pout was audible in the omega’s voice as he pushed his toes against his chest. “I’m so hot, I could die. Even thinking about moving makes me want to cry.”

Louis chuckled and glanced down at his book. “Indeed, you do seem to be quite unusually affected by it, where others aren’t. Nevertheless, it is quite a shame.” His efforts to continue reading were squashed by the foot that coincidentally knocked the tome from his hands. He sighed and looked at Will. 

“Why’s that?” asked Will, his curiosity outweighing his determination to mope.

The blond elda closed his eyes with a tranquil smile. “Well, I was going to suggest we face the evil rather than shy from it and facilitate our own fun indoors, and what better suited activity for indoors is there than a ball?”

Will did not expect this. Sitting up on his hands slightly, he narrowed his eyes. “A ball?”

Louis hummed. “A ball indeed. Surely that would be an affair you would take great pleasure in.”

The prince only shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve never been to one.”

Blond eyebrows rose. “Never? You mean to tell me that you, as the crown prince, have never had a ball thrown in your honor? Not even for your presentation?”

Will sat up fully, brought up his knees, and shook his head. “No, never. Forden thought it would draw too much attention to me, especially since the war was picking up at the time. By the time I thought about it again, well, two years had already passed.” With a dismissive shrug he smiled sadly. “Besides, I knew who I wanted to mate. It seemed pointless.”

Louis, however, was quite passionate about this. He faced Will and said firmly, “Drawing attention to you is precisely why you are owed a debut ball. Why, how can the old fool expect you to be properly courted if you are hidden away from all your suitors?” He scoffed. “Whether finding you a match is the purpose not withstanding, it is shameful to contemplate. A prince, not even afforded the chance to celebrate his impending ascension!”

Will could not help but be touched by Louis’s feelings, which he found to be offended out of love for him. He coiled a lock of hair around his finger. “It would be a fun diversion, but he would never allow it.” With a little smile he crawled over and onto Louis’s lap he climbed. He wrapped his arms around the alpha’s neck. “What interest is it to you, though, mm? A chance to see me dolled up with drooling alphas at my feet?” He grinned against Louis’s lips. “Quite scandalous, my darling count.”

With a low chuckle Louis returned the gesture, his hands taking Will’s hips as he kissed him. “Mm. I cannot even argue to the contrary, as both are my aims. I would never pass on an opportunity to see you dolled up, and well, perhaps I am feeling merciful enough to give my peers a chance for the night. After all, what chance of harm is there, knowing whose arm you will find at the end of the night?”

Will moaned when he kissed him, and their lips stayed locked for a prolonged moment. He grinned down at the alpha and chuckled. “Scandalous and cruel. Whatever am I to do at the mercy of such a villain?” He kissed Louis’s jaw a few times before sighing. “Still. Forden…”

Louis scoffed and smirked. “And what is Forden, beyond an insignificant steward of the throne? You are the prince, my love. Never forget that. Your influence comes second to none.”

This had some degree of effect on Will, who sat back on his haunches and studied Louis through wide and searching eyes. Before long, he smiled and averted his eyes, murmuring, “It would be fun to be able to dance…”

“And upon whom would you bestow the honor of your first dance, hmm?” questioned Louis knowingly, his eyes flashing. 

Will bit his bottom in a feeble effort to disguise his playful smile. “I do wonder, would you be jealous if it wasn’t you?” He made to kiss Louis but pulled back just before their lips could connect: a blatant tease. He hummed. 

Louis smirked, his voice low and dark. “Oh, I think you’ll find very soon that I don’t take well to being mocked.”

“Who’s mocking, hmm?” Will asked against the alpha’s earlobe, lips curled. 

Louis’s eyes shifted toward him. “You’re amenable, then? You’ll petition Forden for a ball?”

“I think it is a most splendid idea, Count Louis!” emphatically cried Milo, an alpha courtier who happened to be present in the room. He clasped his hands together. “Why, a ball would most wonderfully raise the dreadful spirit of the palace—tenfold, dare I say!”

They both looked at him. Will giggled. When he turned back around, he pressed his palm against Louis’s chest and admired him for a moment before leaning to the side and calling his guard. “Heismay?” 

The eugief sprung to attention, and Will said, “Please tell my godfather that I seek an audience with him this evening.” 

As Heismay saluted, Strohl and Hulkenberg barged into the room. “Your Highness,” stammered Strohl, “we need to talk with you immediately. I— What is going on?” 

The “what” in question, of course, being Will straddling Louis’s lap, their blouses both unbuttoned, and the prince arched sweetly as he hung onto the alpha’s shoulders. Strohl blinked and blubbered. When Louis took it upon himself to press a fluttering kiss to Will’s scent gland, his gaze and smirk trained at Strohl all the while, the guardsman flushed and scowled. 

“I fear it’ll have to wait, Strohl,” said Will as he stood and smoothed out his sweat-wrinkled garments. He buttoned his blouse. “I need to freshen up and see the sanctifex.” 

“Your Highness, I must object,” blurted Strohl. He followed Will when the omega made for the door. “I consider it a matter most urgent, and I—” 

Just outside the door in the hallway, Will stopped, faced Strohl, and sighed. “Look. I’m not interested in hearing about my biology, why Louis is a terrible mating prospect, or about the latest court drama. That's all I hear about!” He threw up his hands and laughed with a shake of his head. “For once, I’m going to do exactly what I want, so if you’ll excuse me.” 

Forden’s acquiescence did not take long. Will’s audience with him was private, but stationed outside the door, Strohl was left to restlessly wonder. How would Will weave his reasoning, which was certainly a reimagining of Louis’s logic? What would he use as a bargaining chip this time? His hand? His obedience? A respite in his relationship with Louis?

Strohl did not know, and he supposed he would never find out. When Will emerged, his mien was weary, but no less excited. After he passed, he looked back over his shoulder and cast Strohl a wink. The alpha sighed deeply. 

Louis’s goading words proved true. The following week saw the palace’s energy restored. Anyone with a taste for the extravagant was duly excited for the ball that was to come, and it was the talk of the halls. There was neither nook nor cranny to which one could escape. 

“One thing perturbs me, though,” mused Strohl as he held a seemingly endless ribbon banner in his arms. “How are there to be any guests, if the prince is meant to be kept a secret? His heritage especially…” murmured the alpha with a furrowed brow, his gaze cast down upon the heap of pastel pink fabric. “Surely he will immediately be known as an elda.”

“His identity will be kept in the same way it is when any outsider visits the palace,” replied Hulkenberg. The roussainte stood upon a stool to reach as she pinned the banner above the archways of the garden courtyard. “The guests are few and selectively chosen from the kingdom’s elite and the crown’s closest allies abroad. The guest list is well-known by Forden; therefore none dare squander their fortune through treachery, when their culpability is so easily known.”

Strohl frowned. “Still… Surely there is someone mad enough to not care—someone willing to sell out His Highness for fortune or fame. I cannot help but feel it is a great risk all the same.”

”It is a great risk!” laughed Hulkenberg. “No one here denies that! But it is His Highness’s will all the same, is it not?”

The clemar could not argue with that. In fact, he was perturbed, and he hesitated as he spoke. “You know, lately, I’ve been thinking about that—His Highness’s wishes, I mean. I’ve been wondering if I haven’t been too oppressive of him. He values his own agency so much, and yet nearly every word out of my mouth has been a critique. The last thing I want is for him to resent me,” he muttered. 

Hulkenberg broke her concentration in favor of looking down at her companion, ribbon and tack still raised in her hand. With a sigh the alpha lowered both and stepped off the stool. “Look,” she began in a somber, motherly voice, “I often fault you for your outbursts, but the truth is, you are simply coming to terms with being his servant just as we all did, at a time. You are his protector, yes, but you are also a sort of friend; and deny it as we may like to at times, you are still an alpha, and he an omega.”

With a hand on his shoulder and a forlorn smile, she shook her head and said, “There will always be an intrinsic part of you that longs to protect those parts of him you inevitably view as delicate. We cannot help what we are, Strohl, but with each passing day, it becomes easier to live with.”

Once her back was turned, he carefully asked, “And it is easy for you, then?” He did not miss the way her shoulders stiffened. 

“Somewhat,” she said after a while. She scaled the stool again and spoke no more. 

Strohl would not forsake his principles, but from that day he endeavored to be more considerate of Will. He did not do this out of reverence or desperation he told himself. Rather, he figured that, if he ever hoped to have any influence in Will’s life, the best way to obtain that would be through mutual understanding. 

That week, Strohl became errand boy, garment rack, and willing shoulder. He appeared at the sound of Will’s meekest call, and when there was only silence, he assumed his wishes and needs. If Will wanted more flowers, Strohl demanded a florist. If Will was too hot, Strohl ordered the maids to bring in fans, and if their fanning was not satisfying, he took the feathers in his own hands. 

It was all he could do. If he could not sway Will as the steadfast detractor, he would influence him by playing the obsequious servant. It was what he should have done all along, wasn’t it? He took comfort in that fact. He was not bending the knee. No, he was overcoming his own reservations and fulfilling his obligations. Maybe, at times, it felt like a personal betrayal, but any feelings of innate disappointment were assuaged by the swell of fondness and pride he felt whenever the prince beamed and laughed for him. 

And indeed the young alpha’s hands were full. Will, it was soon apparent, was every bit devoted to making his ball the most fantastical affair one could imagine. If at first others assumed that Louis was the puppetmaster, it became soon evident that the plans at play were of Will’s direct creation. 

Will took great care in the designs. The color scheme was to be blue and violet, with only ivory, of course, being permissible as an accent. It was reflected in the decor, but most prominently in Will’s costume. This the prince took very gravely. 

Naturally, his own plethora of garments and fabrics on hand did not suffice, so he beseeched the assistance of Junah’s dressmaker, who dropped any and all his tasks to hurry to the palace and take the oath of secrecy to be granted presence in Will’s midst. 

Strohl was present for this, he, naturally, being the resident garment rack as previously mentioned, which was no easy task—for Will wore only his undergarments during the consultation—but over time he had grown somewhat used to it and his fluster lessened somewhat. He had no idea how ever Forden permitted his presence during this, as seeing an omega in a bedchamber state of undress was still improper, however decent he may be, but one day Strohl had the dreadful epiphany that the poor sanctifex likely did not know . 

Junah was there, too, she being all too eager to assist in the preparations of a “grand omega affair,” as she once called it. She stood beside the dressing stool with her hands clasped and eyes shining as Jean-Marc, said beta dressmaker, measured his torso while humming thoughtfully. 

“I want my waist to be taken in by the tightest corset possible.” Will stated this as he pressed his hand against his belly and twisted slightly to study the sight in the mirror. “A cream color, with a blue ribbon busk. The blue muslin should be layered over it—sheer, so that you can still see underneath.” 

“A most enchanting idea, Your Highness!” Jean-Marc agreed. “I shall have my corsetier craft the finest garment fathomable in time for you. Pray, what is the smallest you’ve achieved?” 

Will pursed his lips and hummed. “Twenty-three? Twenty-three inches?” He looked at Aurissia, who nodded and grunted softly in confirmation. “Twenty-two if I lay off the sweets.” He giggled. He looked down at Jean-Marc and with all confidence said, “I want it to be twenty.” 

Jean-Marc threw his hand against his breast and swooned. “ Twenty inches, Your Highness! By God, you’ll nary breathe!” 

Aurissia and the waiting maids also murmured in scandal. Meanwhile, Junah giggled and pressed a crooked finger against his mouth as she watched mirthfully. 

“Strohl thinks I can do it,” said Will indignantly. He looked over his left shoulder and smiled at Strohl playfully. “Don’t you, Strohl?” 

The alpha stammered and blinked. “I—” He shook his head and with a shrug said meekly, “What are two more inches?” Will’s smile grew to his eyes. 

Jean-Marc sighed and wiped his forehead for dramatic flair but said, “If that is Your Highness’s decree, then it shall be so. Pluto, write that down,” he ordered his assistant, who was already vigorously scribbling Will’s requests on a notepad. 

“The bloomers will be in satin, pale blue also. They should be flowy, since my top will be so tight.” Jean-Marc nodded as Will continued, his hands hovering all over his body with the tape measure as he envisioned the costume in his mind. 

“Blue for the decolletage as well?”

“Yes. I would like the ribbon to be fashioned as roses, if possible. A floor-length cape as well, in the sheerest white. Oh! And I’ll need heels, since Louis is punishingly tall.” 

“Is Louis the name of your suitor?” Jean-Marc asked with an air of fond knowing as he pinned a length of silk around Will’s neck to take measurements for the cape. 

Will’s smile in the mirror was fond and faint. “It is.” 

“Well!” sighed the beta. “At this rate, he is sure to swoon at the sight of you! Truly, how could one be expected to look away from you in costume such as this?”” 

“That’s the idea,” said Will. 

The day of the ball approached as a cloud passes over the sun. The bustle of the morning matched the anticipation leading up the event, and Strohl walked through the rushing throngs of servants in amused awe. 

“You’d think this was an affair of great consequence,” remarked Strohl once he reached Hulkenberg, Heismay, and Grius, who were standing near the archways overseeing the scene. 

“It is,” said Grius. There was no mirth in his tone. “This is to be the evening the prince truly becomes an omega.” 

It was the largest crowd anyone had ever seen assemble at the palace. After years of secrecy enforced, it was natural that an invitation to the ball was held in the highest esteem. Even as the some four dozen who were deemed trustworthy enough to attend arrived in waves at twilight, there were unsolicited sightseers being held back by the palace guard at the border of the property. 

Inside, the prince’s guard wore their ceremonial attire, which was comprised of a frock coat in royal blue brocade, a stately silk cravat pinned by a brooch bearing the royal crest, silver-white breeches, and black riding boots. At their sides they held their staffs high as they bordered the carpeted path leading from the entry doors to the ballroom below. 

Guests trickled in to little affair, mingled, and enjoyed dainties. Forden was the first entrance of note. The hall prostrated for him, and when Strohl stood, he noted that the rhoag’s features were grave. The clemar frowned but dwelled little on it. 

This tepid guestlist grew like this for a short time until suddenly, there was commotion, and Strohl looked to the side as far as appearances would allow. 

It was Will. 

He was a vision that was impossible to describe. As Strohl beheld him, he thought of Will as the moon descending unto the horizon as the dawn approached. His translucent cape trailed behind him down the stairs, its dramatic breadth emphasizing the artful detail of the garments that entrapped his body. So impossible was the width of his waist that his hips, clad in dreamy blue, commanded one’s attention. His legs, sheathed in white tights embossed by flowers, were made long and limber by his train and the satin blue heeled slippers that covered his feet. As he descended the steps, his smile was nervous yet exhilarated. Under the command of some cosmetic, his deep complexion shimmered just like the large, singular necklace that rested upon the center of his breast: It was a crown jewel, worn, too, by Will’s father on the day of his coronation. In his wake, the guards could not help but deeply inhale his scent, which hung in the air before them as though a candy cloud. 

Strohl finally released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding once Will reached the ballroom floor. Evidently he was not the only one. So awed by his beauty were the present company that nearly all of them forgot their manners, and their subsequent bow was hasty and awkward. 

A living fantasy amidst them, Will turned and smiled breathlessly as he beheld his subjects. He offered a polite bow of his own, one that was a courtesy and little else. He needed bow to no one. 

Then, the alphas descended. 

Every eligible alpha present rushed to his side as quickly as propriety would tolerate. Will met them with an overwhelmed smile that was only interpreted as coquettish. It made him all the more enticing to the crowd, who were all at once beseeching his hand for a dance. 

Though he longed to be bitter, Strohl could not help but smile fondly at the attention that Will was rightfully receiving. He deserved it. He was beautiful and perfect, and the occasion was his. All omegas deserved the love and reverence that Will received in that moment. 

Then, suddenly, there was additional commotion. Strohl’s gaze followed it, and he frowned as the herald spoke. 

“His Lordship, Count Louis Guiabern!” 

Louis crested the landing of the stairs and began his slow descent. Around the dancefloor omegas leaned in close to one another’s ears and whispered salaciously behind fans. 

There he is! Count Louis! 

Oh, but he looks so divine tonight. Do you think he would dare spare me a dance? 

A giggle. Not if he continues having eyes only for the prince…

I envy him so terribly, but I must say! They do make such a fine couple… 

The elda dressed true to theme. He forsook his usually alabaster garb in favor of hues of lavender and violet. His breeches bore the color in the palest shade. His lithe waist was cinched by a ribbon belt that was but a shade darker. His broad frame was covered by a handsome frock dyed in the royal shade. His only adornments that were not violet were his stockings and blouse, which were white, and his latchets in polished black. At his nape his normally flowing golden curls were tied into a tail by a length of black ribbon.

Strohl supposed that he should have looked unnatural for how unusual a sight it was, but rather he found uncomfortably that Louis looked quite intrinsic. It was the color of kings. 

Will immediately crossed the floor as soon as he found a break in conversation with the suitors who surrounded him to stride over and join him. He stopped short of the taller elda and curtseyed low. Louis responded with a perfunct bow and a fond smile. 

Louis could hardly have been more pleased with Will’s appearance. He knew, after all, that the prince dressed for him, and he never failed to deliver. He recognized his privilege, for how many alphas had an omega at their call who did as such, let alone one so fair? 

“Your Highness. May I be so bold as to request the first dance of the evening?” Louis, of course, understood the weight of the request, just as he with no small degree of confidence knew that Will would accept. He knew, too, how deep of a slight it was to the other alphas who asked him first. He knew above all the significance of Will forsaking them without a second thought in favor of himself, and he reveled in it.

With a blush and a smile, Will easily replied, “Of course,” and he lowered himself again. Louis bowed his head. A server passed with a tray of flutes containing mead, and Louis stopped him to take one for himself and Will. 

Before the server could depart, however, Louis pursed his lips and demanded, “Drink it.”  

The server, who had been making to leave, jerked back and blinked. “My lord?” he stammered. 

Louis’s lashes lowered. “You heard me. You are providing refreshments to your future king. Drink it before you dare offer it to him.” 

“Louis…” Will reluctantly began. “I can have my guards—” 

“Drink it.” Louis quickly stopped the server’s gaze from traveling searchingly to the prince. 

The man, a hapless beta, looked between the two, a clear sweat blooming on his brow, before taking the flute back from Louis and bringing it to his lips. He took a swig and swallowed. The blond scrutinized him for a prolonged moment to perceive any effect, and when he saw none, his posture relaxed, and with a hum he dismissively said, “You may go.” 

The server bowed deeply, gripped his tray to still the shaking from his other hand, and scurried away. Louis then offered Will his glass and with a placid smile tapped his own against it. They drank. 

After a respite of socializing, the drone of voices and tuning instruments quieted. In entered the other most desired omega of the evening: the lady Junah. 

She was dressed not unlike Will. Her skirt was in the same blue satin, but the fabric was smooth and reached the floor. Her torso, however, was not as modestly dressed. The bodice was made of white lace, only thickening in the area covering the private area of her breasts. The fabric parted completely at the center, the decolletage making a deep V shape from her shoulders to her navel. The sleeves extended into gloves, her arms and back enveloped completely in a sheen of floral lace. Her hair was done up theatrically: its length still flowed down her back, but at either side of her crown were two knots. Her bangs were greased and curled on either side of her forehead, framing her elegant high forehead. Pinned to the nape of her neck and flowing behind her was a long train of white lace that was embroidered with flowers at the hem. 

She took Fidelio’s offered hand and stepped onto the bandstage, where she soon faced the audience and with a practice smile curtseyed low to a round of applause. The room was still in anticipation.

The nidia extended her arms and adjusted her stance until she appeared comfortable. Then, with her palms resting elegantly against her midsection, she closed her eyes and began to sing. 

The song was nothing short of beautiful. It was an operatic rhapsody with lyrics in the old style. With the sweet clarity of a fresh spring morning her voice filled the hall, and a pleased and resounding awe settled over the assembly. Everything about her appearance was so perfectly controlled, from her emphatic expressions to the gentle flourish of her hands as she sang, yet her voice sounded so natural and unbidden. Strohl had no special taste for music, yet he found his skin pimpled in that way one finds whenever they witness an undeniable feat of talent. When he glanced over at Hulkenberg, he found her to be utterly taken. Not even the posturing of a prince’s guard to which she so devotedly dedicated herself could hide her awe. 

“What is this piece?” quietly asked Strohl, who was enchanted by the practiced expression of dolor on Junah’s face during a particularly high note. The sadness in the sound seemed to resonate deep within his heart. 

“‘Dirge of the First King,’” supplied Grius. “A lament written for the omega king who ascended the throne and established the kingdom after his mate was slain. It is Louis’s favorite.” 

Strohl’s eyes found the blond in the crowd. His back faced the guardsman as he watched the performance with Will’s head lightly rested against his shoulder. As though sensing the weight of another’s eyes trained on him, the elda turned his cheek and glanced up. His eyes met Strohl’s. The clemar offered a nod. After a moment Louis turned around.

Junah’s song concluded to thunderous applause and shouts of praise. The breathless omega grinned and curtseyed. Some approached her with words of praise and requests for a dance while others retreated for refreshments. Many were restless in their desire to dance, and couples lingered around the fringes of the dancefloor waiting for their chance but knowing that they could not until the prince stepped out first. 

Thankfully, their anticipation was not long kept. Once Junah departed the stage, the band took up their instruments, and with a smile Louis took a step back, bowed low, and extended his hand to Will. 

The prince smiled dreamily at the sight before offering a customary bow of his own. He took Louis’s hand, and they held one another’s gaze as they sauntered to the center of the floor. 

With this the guards were dismissed from their stationary position on the staircase and were free to descend to the floor. They were not permitted to engage in the merriment by way of dancing, of course, but they were allowed to drink and eat while observing on the same level as anyone else. 

The guests had formed a large circle as was custom to grant the prince and his partner the attention of the room, but it was unnecessary. Whose attention could stray anywhere else when they made such a sight? Strohl watched them as he slowly had a turn about the room, and taken aback was he by their shared splendor. 

Strohl could hardly see Louis as the sort of person who would enjoy the act of dancing, yet his skill was as easy as it was impressive. He glided across the floor with the ease of an iceskater, his broad back held austerely. The way that his long strides were obscured by the moonlit train of Will’s cape, which was now pinned to his wrist, provided them an altogether ethereal appearance. Joined, they looked as though children born of the moon drifting across a transient plain beneath the stars.  

Beholding them that evening changed Strohl, for he could no longer deny how stunning they were together. As he watched them, a forgotten flute of mead in his grasp, he saw them as they would appear on the day of their coronation as twin kings. In that moment they were, more than anything else, a royal match. 

The subsequent feeling rousing in his breast was not one of indignance or disdain, but rather one of bittersweet resignation. He knew that he must at least try to be happy for Will, but why did it feel like such a betrayal, and to whom, of what? What did he really want to gain out of this, and why did it hurt so damn badly? 

With her fans preoccupied with the prince’s first dance, Junah found herself free of hassle, and he made her way over to Strohl with a wave and a grin. 

“Hi!” she whispered in greeting. She dropped her skirt with a quiet huff once she was beside him and watched the dance with him for a minute. She looked over at him and with a plaintive smile asked, “Are you all right?” 

Strohl looked at her then blinked a few times. He cleared his throat and knit his brow. “I’m fine.” 

The nidia hesitated. “You could ask him to dance, too, you know.” 

The alpha barked out a laugh that was unintentionally loud enough to draw a contemptuous glance from a few onlookers who were in the back row of the circle. Strohl offered an apologetic smile in return and waited before replying. “That’s preposterous, actually.” 

“Is that some rule I don’t know about?” She scoffed. “Obviously you can’t mate the prince, but is even dancing forbidden?” 

Strohl’s fist tightened then released. Louis and Will were nearing the end of their dance. “No,” he answered, “but there are unspoken rules. Perhaps there’s no written decree, but what it would mean for the prince if he were to take the hand of someone like me.” With a rueful smile he shook his head. “I’m not an alpha, Junah. Not anymore, at least, not right now, and certainly not a contender at this party.” 

The dance concluded, and they clapped. Junah stamped her foot and let out a quiet, “Boo,” with a pout. She crossed her arms and looked up at him. “Would you like to dance with me, then?” 

Strohl blanched. “I— pardon me?” 

“Oh, you oaf,” she groaned. 

On the dancefloor Will was laughing breathlessly in Louis’s arms as they shared a fond moment. He was unsuccessful in his attempt to get Louis off the dancefloor, however, for the band began playing a lively waltz, and the count grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up to the sound of a surprised squeal that soon devolved into gleeful laughter. Louis led him to the sidelines where other couples were assembling, and they once again fell into step. 

“Come on!” cried Junah as she dragged Strohl by the hand to the floor. “I’m tired of your moping, and I need someone to occupy me so I don’t get swarmed by boring old rich alphas again!” 

Strohl stumbled after her. His expression was panicked. “Junah, really, this is not a good idea. Think of how it looks—” He cried out when a very pointed slipper stamped atop his foot. 

“Oops!” said the nidia as she covered her mouth. The mirth in her iridescent eyes told Strohl that it was not at all an accident. “Sorry, were you saying something?” 

Her mischievous grin was impossible to resist. Before long Strohl found himself smiling, and he shook his head with a rueful chuckle as he took her hand in his own and her waist in the other. They began to dance. 

It was hard to tell whether the Magnus brothers or Hulkenberg were more horrified by the sight of them. He saw all three of their dismayed agape faces as he and his partner spun past, but all he could do was mouth a meek, “Sorry!” to his roussainte friend before she was obscured by other swirling couples. 

A long time had passed since Strohl last danced. Even when he was at home in Halia, balls were a rare occasion unless his family were invited and traveled elsewhere. His last time dancing was likely at the home of some country nobleman some years past. 

Still, he was learned in the art, and despite his fears to the contrary, his feet remembered what to do well. He hated to admit it, but damn it all, he was having fun . It felt as unusual as it did wonderful to partake in some type of movement that did not involve stomping in formation or chasing after Will. He enjoyed dancing. He enjoyed drinking and making merry. He enjoyed having a beautiful woman in his arms. How could he not be happy? 

“You’re a good dancer!” laughed Junah as they took a turn. 

“Oh, I’m terrified,” Strohl said lowly. “Just terrified. I am thinking of every next step I’m about to take in excruciating detail.” 

Junah threw her head back and cackled. Strohl laughed, too. Being only himself, he could not see how beautiful of a sight they made. Indeed, they had drawn the attention of quite a many onlookers, many of whom were whispering scandalously about what they were seeing, but some of whom were admiring them. To those who knew them, the glee on their faces was rare, especially for Strohl.

Two of these admirers were Louis and Will, who each took in the scene over the shoulder of the other as they moved about the floor. Will’s expression was one of pleasant surprise, while Louis’s was more difficult to name. When Strohl met his gaze, he found in it a degree of quiet intrigue and mirth. Locked onto it beyond Junah’s flowing hair and the spinning lights of the room, Strohl found that he could not look away. 

The song concluded with a jovial crescendo, and the alphas and betas bowed to their omega partners. Strohl followed suit and rose to find Junah with her hands clasped together and grinning. 

“See! Wasn’t that amazing? It just goes to show you how much fun you can have when you’re not worrying yourself to death over everything!” 

For the first time Strohl beheld the way others were looking at them and talking, and he chuckled nervously. “I fear you may be just a little too liberal in your regard for court gossip and reputation, my lady Junah, but I hear you nonetheless.” He smiled and tilted his head. “I did have fun.” 

“And that’s what matters,” said the nidia with a light tap against his bicep. “What others say? I care little, obviously.” She snorted. “Reputation is temporary, but you know what else is?” She leaned forward, and her eyes gleamed. “Life, dear Strohl. Trite the saying may be, but it is true that it is all too short. Maybe I’ll be called the harlot and your duty will be questioned, but in three days’ time, they’ll all be too preoccupied with the newest pastry at The Candied Hare and the prince’s new stockings to even remember this night.” 

Strohl thought perhaps Junah understood more about court life than he credited her. 

Will approached with Louis in tow, and Strohl and Junah bowed their heads in greeting. “That was some dancing. I was glad to see it!” said the prince. 

Strohl glanced at Junah but smiled. “Lady Junah thought I could use a diversion. As it turned out, I could. It was nice. We had fun.” 

“You would not be the only ones diverted,” remarked Louis with a faint smirk as he, too, took in those around them. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” said Strohl wryly. “You’ll be giving them plenty to talk about, I’m sure.” 

The two alphas held one another’s gaze long enough for Will to interrupt, and he took Louis’s hand and asked, “Shall we get something to drink?” 

The blond tore his focus away from the clemar in favor of looking down at his omega. He offered a small smile. “Yes, let’s.” 

Strohl finally departed to find refreshments of his own, but to his chagrin Hulkenberg appeared, pinched his sleeve, and dragged him along. It was the second time that evening a woman had manhandled him across the floor. 

“What are you doing?” he questioned once the roussainte stopped and released him in one of the room’s corners. 

Hulkenberg did not satisfy him with a reply. Her eyes narrowed, she asked, “What was that? Don’t be obtuse. Are you interested in Lady Junah that way?” 

The clemar blinked and frowned as he worried his tender arm. She had pinched his skin, too. “‘That way,’ as in, as an omega? W— No!” He laughed flippantly. “It was just a dance!” Then, after a moment’s realization, his eyes widened. “Why? Are you ?” 

“Of course not!” Hulkenberg hissed. Her blush belied some falseness in the assertion. “But that’s irrelevant! What is relevant is that everyone at present is going to assume that you do, and that can only bode poorly for us.” 

Strohl scoffed. “Oh, relax. I’m forbidden from engaging with the prince, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have attentions elsewhere.” 

“And if those attentions are in direct opposition to your duties?” 

For a reason unplaced, Strohl was angry, and it showed in his tone when he snapped, “It was one dance , and it won’t happen again! God! I came here to serve in the prince’s guard, not to find a new mother when I have one plenty enough back home!” 

The redhead appeared surprised at this outburst. Truth be told, he was, too. The clemar relaxed his posture and sighed, eyes cast to the side. “Forgive me. I’m feeling strangely irritable tonight. Something in the air, I suppose.” 

The roussainte sighed, too. “I apologize as well,” she said defeatedly. “I was merely…surprised, is all. Scrutinizing implication is the unfortunate responsibility of the prince’s guard. I trespassed.” 

Strohl reached out and grabbed her shoulder. He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” He raised his ashen brows high and sighed loudly. “Shall we have a drink?” 

Find a drink they did, and the merriment continued onward. Will and Louis continued to reunite on the dancefloor. Under Forden’s scrutinous eye, the prince was expected to entertain other suitors as well, but he only did one other alpha. The remainder of his evening, the purpose of the ball be damned, was spent on Louis’s arms, in his arms, and at his side for all to see. 

Surprisingly, Strohl was not preoccupied with this obvious slight. A few helpings of mead helped ease his disquieted nerves, and it seemed that his public dance with Junah had earned the attention of a handful of omegas, who over the next couple hours approached him with varying degrees of boldness and flirtation. Strohl, of course, never intended to court any of them, but he could not help but be gratified by their notice. He enjoyed entertaining their questions with a smile.

Sometime after their fifth dance, Will sought a respite by the refreshments, where he shone with sweat and fanned himself. Louis, who had finally taken time to entertain army acquaintances and stray omegas who wished to approach him, made his way over with a small, amused smile. Unfortunately, Will could not reciprocate it. 

“I’m so hot,” the omega said with an airy chuckle. No amount of ice water, bonbons, or fanning seemed to help it. “Perhaps we danced too much.” 

“There is no such thing,” Louis replied playfully, but his eyes were minutely concerned as he studied Will. He raised his hand to press the back of his palm against the omega’s clammy forehead. “My, you’re burning up. I pray you’re not coming down with an ailment.” 

Will’s mouth twitched. “That would be just my luck, on the night that’s supposed to be the best of my life.” 

Louis hummed. “Well, we simply must seek a remedy for it, rather than stand idly by. Why don’t we have a turn about the garden? The rain has ceased the past few hours. Perhaps a breath of fresh air would do you well after all this time in close quarters with all these bodies.” 

The omega’s lips formed a small O, as if he himself had not considered the idea. He smiled. “You know, I think that might just be perfect.” 

“Shall we, then?” Louis offered his hand, and Will took it. They crossed the room on the fringes, not seeking to disrupt those who were dancing, nor to draw too much attention to themselves. True to form, however, Will’s closest attendants noticed them. 

“Excuse me,” said Strohl to the courtiers to which he was speaking. Hulkenberg noticed him making haste. When she fell into step beside him, he nodded toward the couple and said, “Let’s go.” 

Will and Louis had only just departed when Strohl stepped out onto the veranda and called, “Your Highness, wait!”

The prince stopped on the top of the stone staircase leading out into the garden and hedge maze. When he saw his guards, his brow softened, and he sighed. “What is it, Strohl?”

”Where are you two going?” the clemar asked with a short, nervous laugh. 

“We’re having a turn about the garden in search of some fresh air. 

“Unchaperoned?” Hulkenberg noted dubiously. 

Will inhaled deeply and sighed. “Look, I know. I’m not asking you two to leave us entirely, but if you must stay, then perhaps you could, you know…” He made an amusing little swooping gesture with his hands, “allow us just a little space?”

Hulkenberg began to object, but Strohl interrupted her. “Of course,” Strohl said quickly. The roussainte’s subsequent glance at him was comically shocked. 

Will’s smile was soft and easy when he murmured, “Thank you.” Glancing up at Louis once for affirmation, he took the other elda’s hand in his own and continued down the steps. 

They walked ahead, the omega’s arm linked around the alpha’s. They strolled between fountain and green arches, whispering and laughing about things Strohl could not hear. He watched them with a wary eye, but he said nothing; nor did he attempt to move any closer. 

They stopped a few paces from the fountain in the center of the garden to admire it and enjoy a respite. Louis reached overhead and plucked one of the blossoms from the vines that curled around the archway above, and he tucked it into the omega’s hair with a dreamy smile, his fingertips lingering just a moment to trace over Will’s milky tresses.  

“It’s a miracle that you’re able to relieve yourself without them standing at the threshold,” remarked Louis dourly as he glanced at the two alpha guards in the distance. 

Will let out an airy chuckle. He removed the two ornate pins that held his hair up and out of his face on either side of his crown, though he took extra care of the flower Louis placed there. “They’re not so bad. They’re just looking out for me. Before you came back, they were all I had—my company, my protection, my playmates. Hulkenberg and Grius especially. They have been my guards since the very beginning.” He smiled up at the blond as he smoothed out his brow. “You should be grateful to them that they kept me intact just for you.”

Louis snorted under his breath at that, but he could not deny his smirk. Before Will’s hand could retreat from his face, he took hold of his wrist and pressed a kiss against the center of his palm. “How are you feeling now?”

Will’s lashes fluttered. Though his smile was demure, the look in his eyes was anything but. He flexed those same fingers that Louis held and with them traced the alpha’s lower lip. “Better, though I can think of something even more helpful than fresh air.” His hand ventured to the right and then lower until it was upon Louis’s cravat, and he slowly pulled it loose so that his neck was free. 

The truth was, Will was mad for him. Granted, he was always a little enamored with Louis, but that night, the alpha appeared more enticing than ever. His lips, his smoldering gaze, his broad shoulders, his powerful thighs, his big hands, unobscured by gloves—every little detail about him was seductive, and Will was especially weakened by it. Though it certainly did nothing to aid in curing his flustered and overwhelmed disposition, he was grateful for the stagnant cloud of mixed scents that hung over the ballroom, for it helped to obfuscate the smell of his own arousal. The sheer barrier that his cape provided was all he had to hide his wetness, which he knew must have been staining his shorts by now. He had been wet for hours, and now, out in the open with nothing to dim the brilliance of Louis’s gorgeous scent, he would become even wetter yet. 

Sighing softly, the omega ran his palm down the side of Louis’s neck and brought it to his nose so he may inhale it. “Louis,” he breathed, voice light as candy floss, “come to me.”

Their gazes fixed, Louis took a few steps closer, and Will backed into the lattice behind him, his features wide and imploring under the shadow of his alpha. Because they were standing, Will could not reach his neck without aid. Knowing this, Louis took his hips, and after a rather restrained moment of appreciative fondling, he filled his hands with them and hefted the omega up so their faces were level. Louis supported him with his thigh, which was sandwiched between Will’s own. His heat rested directly against him, and Will sighed for it. He did not hesitate before canting his hips downward. The friction was incomparable in its pleasure. The prince gasped his name. 

The older elda groaned lowly in his throat. His features wrought, he said, “God, look at you,” and his eyes raked over the sight Will made: the eager bulge grinding against his thigh, his constricted waist, and his heaving chest, which was hard and glistening. He felt his own restraint wavering as Will unpinned his cape and let it pool behind his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around Louis’s neck and drew him in for an open-mouthed kiss. 

Their tongues danced in complement to their greedily wandering hands. Will shakily fumbled with the buttons of Louis’s blouse only to realize that he yet wore his coat, so he focused on that first, jerkily shoving it down the blond’s shoulders. Louis responded in turn by tugging it off, all the while Will continued grinding against his thigh with desperate passion. 

His sighs were sweeter than even Junah’s song. His fingers hooked around the lattice behind his head as he turned his cheek, exposing his throat and chest for Louis to assault. The alpha scented him with nose and tongue, mouthed his way down collarbone, and dragged his tongue over the salty sweet expanse of his shining chest. The position of his body freed the buds of his chest at certain angles, and Louis graciously took the opportunity to suck one into his mouth. Will gasped so deeply that it burned his lungs. The corset made it difficult to breathe. It should have been painful, yet somehow Will found himself exhilarated by it. His lightheadedness heightened every sensation, made every touch feel so much sweeter, and he was wantonly releasing slick. He felt it between his cheeks, felt it on his own skin from where it stained the fabric of Louis’s breeches, felt it in the air around them. Everywhere he felt like a burning flame that longed to be tempered by Louis’s icy touch. 

“I need you.” Will’s pant was a hot whisper between their faces. He twisted around until Louis released him enough so that his feet were touching the ground—so that he could flatten his palm against the alpha’s hardness, which pulsed in his touch. Will salivated at the sensation and whimpered as he looked down at it. He would have paid any price to see it freed and then hidden somewhere else, somewhere only he could hide it. He curved his palm around its girth and stroked his hand from top to bottom. “Have me now, Louis. Fuck me here. Make it yours.”

The blond’s arms stretched overhead, his fingers knotted in the lattice. His eyes were closed, his jaw tightly held, though it trembled violently. His breathing was shallow and quick, and he jerked and nodded as he fought against the pleasure of Will’s hand that he was not strong enough to stop. 

“You’re not feverish, Will,” the elda said around the swell of a shaky laugh. His tone was one of bemusement when you come to realize something you had somehow overlooked. “You’re in heat, my darling, and I must warn you, if you don’t still your hand now, I cannot promise that I won’t take every advantage of you in the worst possible ways.”

Face marred by confusion, Will stared at Louis for a prolonged moment. The other elda’s words reached his ears but not quite his mind. He blinked a few times then looked down at himself. His inner thighs, down to his knees, were shining and wet. A syrupy bead rolled down his leg. He hadn’t even realized it. 

Will could only laugh. It was a breathy, mad sound. His grin was one of euphoria, and he shook his head slowly. “Well, what are you waiting for?” His hand left Louis’s groin in favor of kneading his own. He spread his fingers over the swollen shape of himself and purred, “You want to be king, don’t you?” 

Strohl ran as fast as his legs could carry him. 

He ran as soon as he saw. He had given Will what he wanted: He stayed back, he minded his distance, he looked the other way. He allowed them privacy for one moment, one moment , and when he dared look again, unable to overpower his concern, he saw Louis with his teeth bared, and there was Will: a debauched, shrinking shape spreading his thighs and offering his throat. 

Even then his mind could not make sense of what his eyes were seeing. It was a gentle breeze, but a dancing whisper of wind traveling his way, that convinced his mind what his vision refused to rationalize. He smelled Will’s scent in the air, and he knew. Instinct compelled his feet forward. 

“Will!” the clemar screamed. It was a moment, just a moment. It was what Will wanted. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? 

Strohl reached them just in time. Will was not his target. He leapt and tackled Louis to the ground, the two alphas landing on the wet grass in a crushing heap. The elda’s pupils were dilated when Strohl looked at him, and the bastard growled at him, an outraged and feral sound that ripped through his throat. Strohl’s alpha responded in turn. His lips curled, and he growled himself, bearing the shaft of his spear longways across Louis’s pulsing throat. He felt the elda beneath him surge and struggle to push him off, but Strohl bore down with all the strength he had, even after Louis’s fingers violently fisted his hair and pulled his scalp taut with the force to bleed. 

“Hulkenberg!” Strohl cried warningly, but he needed not explain. The roussainte was already there, and she threw her arms around Will before he could move an inch toward Louis. 

The prince sobbed, “ No! ” The quality of Will’s voice was awful, wretched. It pained Strohl to hear. It sickened his already swirling gut, which was alive with anger and adrenaline. “Louis! Louis, no!” He wept bitterly. He clawed at Hulkenberg’s arm. He kicked and thrashed. He pushed at her face. The roussainte stayed wrapped around him all the while even as he quite literally tried to bodily drag her toward Louis. “ Louis!”

“I need some assistance!” cried Hulkenberg direly. In the distance the other guards were rushing down the staircase into the garden, a cluster of manic shadows descending into the night. 

It was a shameful scene. It was chaos. Strohl was sweating in his exertion to keep Louis down. Hulkenberg was faring no better by the time Grius and Alec arrived. The prince was no match for their combined strength, and his sobs only increased in their heartrending intensity as he was lifted into the air by Alec and passed into the arms of Grius, who began to carry him back inside. 

He continued to sob Louis’s name and beg for release until Grius finally clamped a hand over his mouth and barked, “The entire blasted court’ll hear this racket if we dinnae do something about it!” 

“I’ll go inside and manage the guests,” said a stilted Hulkenberg, looking about herself in disarray. “Alec, go with Alces and ensure His Highness is not seen!” 

They all worked in tandem, ticking gears in a timepiece held together by panic rather than duty. Strohl looked over his shoulder and watched them all breathlessly, every sound white and muted in his ears. He looked toward the palace and on the terrace saw a figure watching them all in silence. It was only when he turned to return inside that Strohl recognized the black and gold sheen of Forden’s robes. A clammy and dirtied hand raised and wrapped around his throat. 

Chapter Text

The five days during which Will was laid in were the worst Strohl had the displeasure of experiencing since his arrival at the palace. 

He supposed he should have been prepared for it. After all, he was duly warned of it from the very day he arrived. Even before then, there was a natural assumption to be made that the unsuppressed Will would at some point experience a heat. All of this Strohl knew. 

All of this Strohl knew, yet that week, as he stood outside the prince’s door as the omega inside sobbed and begged for the vulgar mercy of Louis, was unfashionably difficult. 

It was difficult to hear, difficult to suppress those inevitable instincts which implored him to do something to relieve Will’s pain, but the crushing sense of guilt and self-loathing that he felt was even more incorrigible. 

He never should have allowed Will to enter the garden with him. He should have seen Will’s symptoms for what they were. He should have been watching them more closely. Maybe if he had, he could have separated them before Will’s hormones ran rampant, and he wouldn't have been forced into a premature heat. The part of him that swore to be a steadfast protector battled with that which wanted above all else to please Will. What is duty without intention? When does duty supersede humanity? When does it shrink?

In more ways than one Grius was all that kept him from breaking. The rhoag reassured him in the face of his doubts, and Strohl found his words to be true rather than patronizing. Strohl knew he was right. He knew that no amount of self-flagellation or regret would change the fact that Will was nearly ruined and that now he was writhing in mad agony. He could not suppress his reactions, natural as they were, but he could be comforted in knowing that his pain was justified, and that it would shortly pass, just as the prince’s pain would. 

The elder alpha’s stoicism also helped a great deal. It placated the guard’s nerves to have one among them who did not waver. Grius’s age had somewhat dimmed his impulses where younger alphas were weak. Not even the unwatered and principled Hulkenberg was unaffected. His temperament inspired them to hope, and in those days they all looked to him for guidance. 

But even with Grius’s aid, it was agony. Strohl heard Will’s cries even when he slept. They followed him everywhere, burrowed their way into his heart. He longed for them to stop more than anything, not in the way that only an alpha can stop them, but by some impossible chaste method. He longed to take Will into his arms and hold him tight, to soothe his hair and tell him that everything would be all right. Strohl wanted to be there for him, but it was not his name that Will called. 

After their indiscretion in the garden, Forden sent Louis away, for the alpha was already showing signs of an approaching rut after being pushed to the limit by Will. The distance only made things worse. The further Louis traveled, the more aggrieved was Will’s need for him, as though he possessed some preternatural impulse that was only soothed when the alpha was near. 

Strohl often thought of the count when Will screamed his name from within his locked rooms. Where was he, and what poor creature was he subjecting to the cruelty of his biology? It made him sick to imagine. This, too, was somehow his fault. 

He thought of Louis at other times and in other ways, too. He could not shake the memories of the night in the garden. Strohl thought of it whenever he lay in bed at night, and he replayed the scene over and over in his head until the visions overwhelmed him, and he thrust his face into the pillows in preparation of another restless night. 

Strohl had watched as Will was removed, watched as Forden turned away from the scene, and watched slowly as Louis’s fingers curled around his throat and squeezed like a vice. He had laid his hand atop the elda’s, nails digging into trembling flesh, and ground his teeth as he tried in vain to wrench away the blond’s grasp. 

He tried so hard to will away the phantom memory of the other alpha’s body against his own as they fought for dominance on the filthy ground, his beating pulse, his hardness, the fleeting spray of his saliva, his sweat, and worst of all, the assaulting and cloying power of his scent, and nothing worked. Strohl thought of it until he was sick. He lost sleep over it. 

As he bathed one night he was especially overcome by the memories, his gaze distant and detached as he worked the soapy sponge over his weary muscles. He detested the line of thought, but in a sense, he could not deny the power that Louis held, nor could he refuse its effect on him. Louis was beautiful, and his was a presence that stained the mind even after it was washed free of the day’s reflections. What did it mean to think this of another alpha at all? And why should Louis , whom he hated, have any significance to him, for all his beauty and all his wit? 

In the end, Strohl concluded that the unfortunate scene evoked hormones of his own, for he himself felt a degree of arousal whenever he remembered that night. He forced it away. Strohl refused to conjure Louis to feelings of anything but disdain. He told nobody, and he never acknowledged it himself. 

By the time Will’s fever broke Strohl was thus run weary, and it showed in his expression as much as in his gait as he teetered outside the prince’s bedchambers. Having been deemed the least affected, he and Grius had the misfortune of being charged with door duty. Strohl grew so used to the sight of the archways across the hall that he hardly noticed the day where Will’s cries faded. He was hardly aware when the day itself bled into the next. It was only the appearance of a new face that broke him from his reverie.

“Lady Junah!” the clemar stammered belatedly, quickly bowing his head in greeting. The nidia was not alone. At her side was a beautiful ishkia woman, one whom Strohl recognized but whose name he could not recall. 

Junah smiled in return, but there was a certain sedatedness in it that was not usually there. “Strohl,” she greeted. “I hope you’ll bid us pass. I’ve brought my sister from the infirmary to see the prince.”

That’s right, thought Strohl. Recognition flickered in his mind. Junah had mentioned her sister, the lady Rella, once before. She was a prolific figure in the church who lived in the palace as its resident healer. Her hand was thought to be bestowed with divine power, so it was only natural that she, an omega herself, be at the disposal of the kingdom’s most valuable asset. 

Strohl hesitated. “Of course, I would be glad to allow it, but I’m afraid none are allowed to be alone with His Highness at present, not even his waiting maids.” 

The omega blinked then smiled, her eyes wry. “Why, naturally, we know that. That’s why we’d like for you to accompany us!” 

The guardsman’s mouth flapped. “Oh, I couldn’t…” 

“Aye, you’ll be all right, lad,” grunted Grius with a nod. “Go on, dinnae fash. You’re suppressed, and he’s on the way out. Go on, then.” He ushered Strohl along with his hand. 

Junah gently touched his arm and smiled reassuringly. “Just long enough for Rella to do her work. Besides, I’m sure he could use a friendly face.” 

A friendly face. Strohl inhaled deeply. That, he could not argue. It was ultimately what drove his feet forward. Even when he had no faith in himself, he could find it for Will. He would find a way to be better than who he was. 

Aurissia opened the doors for them. They entered. Will’s doors were not scentproof. Strohl smelled torturous whiffs of him throughout the week until his nose became blind to it. Now inside, he could not avoid it. It was as though smelling it again for the first time again. It overwhelmed his senses. Trailing behind the two omega women, he inhaled a deep breath with the intention to hold it in his lungs, but the air he inhaled was Will. Everything all around him was Will . He immediately wanted to turn back. 

But there he was. Once Strohl saw him, he could not possibly leave. It was his first time seeing Will since the garden. The omega was sitting up in bed, the ruined fabric of his blankets pooled around his waist. By his scent it was evident that the bedding had not been changed since the onset of his cycle, but judging by the appearance of his nightdress, that had been replaced at some point, if only for Will’s comfort. Any other attempts at refreshing his situation were likely impossible on account of his condition. He would have rejected even the slightest touch that did not belong to his alpha. 

This has to be a brand of torture. This has to be a punishment. For what, I don’t know, but I must have done something to deserve this , mourned Strohl inwardly. It was too cruel to put an alpha in this position. It was too inhumane.    

Uncertain and uncomfortable, he hovered to the side as the omega sisters descended upon the bed, from which Will greeted them with a tired but appreciative smile. When he said, “Hello,” his soft voice was raspy from a week of nonstop cries and sobs. 

“How are you feeling, Your Highness?” asked Junah as she sat on the edge of the mattress. To her left Rella extended a hand to ask permission, then gingerly began ascertaining Will’s temperature. 

The prince tilted his head into the ishkia’s touch, which was cool compared to his temperature, and hummed softly. “Better, though not without want of fresh air.” 

Rella smiled soothingly. “You will be free soon enough, Highness, I’m sure. We need only for your scent to break. Inhale deeply on my count.” 

Junah, as though realizing something, looked at Strohl and smiled. “Strohl! What do you think? You’ve the nose of an alpha? Does the prince smell safe?”

Strohl found this to be an even more special brand of torture. Safe, he scoffed to himself. When did Will ever smell safe? What he said, however, was, “Perhaps not entirely, but certainly better than yesterday, and the day before,” with a plaintive smile. 

Will’s own was plaintive, and his eyes lowered. “Strohl has been saddled with the responsibility of smelling me day in and day out, I fear. I don’t know how ever I could apologize.” 

Though the sisters and maids all immediately chimed in with a chorus of cooing reassurances, Strohl spoke loudly. “There is no need at all for an apology, Your Highness. It is my duty and little else. The apology, rather, should be coming from me.” He looked only at Will, blind to the way the Cygnus sisters shared a glance and carefully began retreating. “I should have done more to protect you that night. I shouldn’t have—”

“Strohl…”

“No,” the alpha interrupted. He was struggling to find the words. It showed in the way he held his chest, the way his shoulders tensed. His brow was knit. “My duty… It is my one duty to ensure your safety. The danger you were in that night, and all that people are surely saying, it’s so…” 

“I’m not blameless.” Will smiled. “I knew what I was doing, Strohl. It’s not like I was led astray.” He chuckled. “Come over here.” 

The clemar blinked rapidly a few times before jerkily crossing the floor. He dared not venture too close. There remained at least a foot or two between them, though he stood at the bed’s side, staring only at Will, for he could hardly hope to focus on anything else when in the omega’s presence. 

“You did more for me than I ever could have asked for,” the prince said quietly, taking Strohl’s wrist in his clammy hand and squeezing it fondly. “Without you, my eagerness surely would have ruined me. I relish making my own decisions, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean I always make the best ones. Especially not when, you know.” He smiled, and Strohl blushed, his own lips tugging. 

Will smoothed the pad of his thumb over the alpha’s wrist. “What I mean to say is, thank you,” he murmured. 

Strohl released a soft breath. “You’re welcome.” 

Rella finished her work to little more affair, and the assembled party slowly began its departure from the room. When only the maids remained, Strohl began to do the same, until Will’s voice called out to him. He stopped. 

With a crooked finger Will beckoned him a few steps closer. When Strohl was in range, he asked, “Will you come see me tonight? There is a favor I would ask of you.” 

Now, Strohl knew better than to let himself be run away with his unlikeliest of thoughts. His high esteem of Will forbade him from seeing the prince as lewd, but admittedly, after what had transpired—and to be fair, all that had been transpiring since Louis’s return—he found himself having regrettable doubts in Will’s propriety that before would have been impossible. He could not help it, despite all his reassurances to himself and late-night prayers. 

Even so, even after all this consideration, Strohl could never hope to be strong enough to resist a direct request from Will, especially not one beseeched with such big, beautiful eyes staring up at him. 

Fortunately for his anxieties, his answer had to be quick to avoid them being noticed, so he hastily said, “I will be there,” and he left. 

For the rest of the evening, he thought of nothing else, and it was a distraction so considerable that more than once did he trip over his own feet or slam into the back of one of his colleagues who simply stopped before him. 

What possibly could Will want of him? Surely, it couldn’t have been that , not so soon after his heat ended, and certainly not his sweet prince. No, he would not humor the thought, but if Will sought him for a reason that was not amorous, what could it be? 

Was it an embarrassing secret that he longed to entrust to another? No, that was unlikely, for one of his waiting maids would surely be a better candidate. Was it a matter of security, then? Something regarding the palace that a court-swept omega would be ill-suited to handle? That would be strange. Will himself was too Louis-swept to take much notice of politics. 

Could it have been something else, something that Strohl could not fathom? He could not imagine how he would be worthy of Will’s private attention, especially not for a matter that called him to Will’s chambers after hours. He dared not contemplate what would happen to him were he to be seen. The horror of the thought nearly scared him into not going. 

That aroused another issue entirely. The guard always worked in pairs in all things. At first, he hadn’t the slightest idea what excuse he could make to rid himself of his companion, whom he learned that night was to be his good friend Hulkenberg. She, especially, was a menace, dutiful and steadfast as she was. 

As it turned out, the answer was found in none other than Aurissia, who had informed him that the appointed time was to be ten o’clock. Strohl was surprised by her knowledge of Will’s scheme, though he knew that it wasn’t that outlandish. A prince confided much in his wait staff. Guards perhaps could be tricked, but a maid was a special kind of wasp altogether. 

He encountered the maid in the kitchens as he passed through to grab a bread roll. She was folding linens and did not face him when she said, “Your friend will be indisposed at ten, but there is no telling for how long. You must move quickly. Head to the gardens beneath His Highness’s windows.”

Strohl, who at first did not realize he was being addressed, blinked and looked over each shoulder. Once he understood, he did his best to appear nonplussed. 

“But why?” he questioned, his lips curled around the bread before he bit into it. 

“He wishes for you to be his chaperone,” supplied the beta with a thin tone that implied it was obvious. 

“Chaperone him where?” 

“To town , of course. Where else?” 

As Strohl stood there blinking incredulously, another maid entered, to whom Aurissia offered a practiced smile. She lifted the wicker basket of folded linens, and without facing Strohl said, “Be there or don’t, but know that you risk his gravest disappointment.” She left. 

Strohl spent the next four hours telling himself, I can’t do this, to telling himself, I can’t be doing this , once he stood in the spot Aurissia had indicated. 

His nerves were aflame. It was forbidden. Will was not allowed beyond the palace grounds. Such a decree had been implemented more than a decade past for his own protection. Even before Will’s homecoming, he was hidden in the old forest sanctum. The prince’s identity was a paramount secret. To allow him to mingle with the common people was obscene enough, but at the risk of danger coming to him on account of his biology? 

He could not make sense of the request. Why did Will want this? What did he need from the village that a courier could not deliver for him? Had he done this before? How many times? And why of all his guards did he want Strohl to accompany him of all people? Why not Louis?

Before long there was a rustle above, and the alpha raised his head to watch as Will scaled the railing of his balcony and began climbing down. Strohl would have been more stupefied by the sight, had he not been terribly preoccupied with the fear of Will falling. He thus began flitting around with his arms foolishly extended, as if the omega landing in them wouldn’t send them both crashing to the ground and with immense injury at that. 

He was also terrified of them being seen. His omnipresent concern for the prince’s reputation and keeping his own head attached to his shoulders rang in his head. With every careful step Will seemed to move slower, and Strohl began to misinterpret every meager rustle of leaves and nocturnal noise as someone approaching. By the time Will was nearing the ground he was nearly overrun by his anxiety. Will took another step. It landed on the hem of his cloak. He slipped. 

“Your Highness!” cried the guardsman. He immediately leapt forward and thrust his arms out. This time, Will actually needed them, but unfortunately for them both, they miscalculated the trajectory of Will’s fall. Will did indeed fall. Only, it was not Strohl’s arms that caught him. 

Before Strohl could so much as imagine what was happening, the full breadth and softness of Will’s rear end was slamming into his face. So starkly did it hit him that, were he capable of cognizant thought, he would have feared the shape of it to be forever imprinted upon his features. That soft, magnificent warmth, and all the weight of a young man crashing onto him, was the last thing he felt before he was planted resoundingly on his back on the cool grass. Strohl thought he saw stars, but it could have also been God. 

“Oh, my God!” Speaking of the man himself. Will cried out as he clumsily swung his legs over the clemar’s body. He leaned forward on his knees and fitfully inspected the alpha’s face. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry,” he said hurriedly. 

With a groan Strohl sat up, clutching his face. He was in pain, but that would not stop him from reassuring his prince. “I think my nose merged with my brain.” 

Will made a soft, alarmed sound as he leaned forward to inspect. “Is it broken?” he asked earnestly as he hesitantly touched Strohl’s hand to look beneath it. 

The alpha scrunched his nose by way of demonstration. It certainly had better days, but he could move it. “What do you think, nurse? Will I live?”

Will’s eyes warmed, and he giggled. He hummed as he gingerly touched the guardsman’s nose. “It’s hard to say. Can you still smell me? Shall I scent you to make it feel better?”  

“I think that may make it worse, actually.” He groaned emphatically. 

The prince’s next laugh was full and warm. It illuminated his face. Only then did Strohl notice how wonderfully exposed it was. It was pinned back atop his head by a small bejeweled pin. Strohl had never seen his forehead. Somehow, it felt tantamount to seeing him naked. 

Blushing, Strohl looked away, and Will stood. He extended his hand, and Strohl took it. The omega’s exposed face was not the only new thing. He had traded his usual lacy stockings and silk bloomers for a more streetward style. His legs were clad in black tights with a simple structured short to match. On his feet he wore simple latchets in black leather. His white blouse was loose and simple. Adorning it all was a heavy velvet cloak dyed a deep indigo. Its hood pooled elegantly between his lovely shoulders. 

Absorbing the prince’s costume reminded Strohl of just what he was summoned here to do, and he frowned. “What is this anyway, Your Highness? Your maid tells me, well—” He looked back and forth before hotly whispering, “She says you mean to go to town !” 

An ivory brow raised before its owner began laughing. “Yes, that’s right. I thought perhaps it would be better to bring you along with me than risk worrying you half to death once you figured it out, like when I snuck out to visit Louis. Speaking of,” he added quietly, “we should get going. Hanging around like this is risky.” 

The prince confidently started off toward the hedge maze, leaving Strohl to hopelessly chase after him. “Will!” he hissed under his breath. “We can’t just— leave! If we’re caught, I’ll be dead! No, worse than dead! They’ll kill me and then make effigies of my corpse to parade around the kingdom, and who knows what would happen to you! Forden could have you shipped off to God-knows-where to live out your days in solitude, and the people will be in disarray. It could spell the end of your line. Oh, and to think of my poor mother, her only son falling into such disgrace, I can’t—” 

Will stopped suddenly, turned, and pressed his hand to Strohl’s rambling mouth. The alpha made a short sound of surprise against his palm. Will’s cheeks filled as he smiled and shook his head incredulously. “Are you always like this? You’re making me nervous.” 

Strohl shook his head free and scoffed. “You should be nervous!” he barked. “Will, I’m sorry, perhaps I can occasionally be a tad dramatic, I know that, but really, this is something else altogether. This is really bad, I mean it.” 

Will crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. For a trice he merely studied Strohl. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” 

The alpha’s lips flapped. His features hardened, and he sighed, crossing his own arms. “Are you really playing the humble servant card?” he asked dourly. 

Will smirked. “And? Are you my humble servant?” 

“Of course I am,” said Strohl, leaning closer, “but a truly humble servant serves your best interests. ”

“And what if my interest tonight is in going to town?” 

Strohl chuckled ruefully, eyes flitting toward the sky. “And when your passing interest happens to be something obscene or impossible, am I to merely bat my lashes and stand idly by?” 

“Alpha Strohl, your prince commands you.” 

It was Strohl’s turn to laugh. “What is that!” He ran his hand down his face. “Oh, you’ll be the death of me, surely.” 

He surely would be, for he reached out and took the clemar’s hand. “Come on,” he said, blue eyes twinkling. “Time is not on our side.” 

They traversed the hedge maze to the back, where Will introduced him to a hidden latch gate. The prince opened it and bowed playfully for Strohl to pass through first. 

He did and mused, “You’ve done this before, I take it.” 

“I like to sneak out here to get away and read, and other things.” 

“‘Other things?’” inquired Strohl. He took in the view, which was admittedly lovely. The vista was fine, long grass blowing gently in the breeze before a glistening sapphire river. 

Though visions of strong arms and blond curls flashed in his mind, Will merely said, “Other things.” 

Strohl could not have possibly guessed what the plan was, but he supposed since he was already there and he had resigned himself to the fact that this was his life, he would simply follow and find out. Just like that, they had departed the palace grounds and were technically upon open land. The only vestiges of the castle that remained were the two pairs of guard outposts and the outrider stables…

“You can’t be serious,” cried Strohl. “Your Highness! You cannot steal a horse! ”

The prince made a quiet, dismissive sound and said, “It’s not stealing .” The mirth in his tone matched the gleam in his eyes, which Strohl studied though Will looked ahead at their target. “We’d only be borrowing it for the evening. It’ll be back by daybreak before they even wake. You worry too much.” He gently nudged the alpha’s shoulder. “I’ve done this plenty of times.” 

“‘Plenty of times’?” Strohl’s horror was disregarded, for the prince abandoned the cover of the hedge they hid behind in favor of approaching the outpost in a quick crouch. Once again, Strohl was forced to follow. It was either that or leave Will to his own devices. However ludicrous the omega’s notions were, Strohl refused to let him face it alone. Thus resigning himself to whatever tribulations they might face, the clemar heaved one last sigh before giving chase. 

The outbound stables were but a wooden shack, hardly appropriate as the facility of a palace, but the appearance was of little consequence, seeing as it was but a pitstop alongside the winding road. The air was quiet and still once they reached the structure. Will exercised caution, but they appeared to be empty. The prince lingered a moment, still crouching behind the wood and beneath the sill of the paneless window, until determining that no one was inside. He then stood, and with an impressive little leap he vaulted over the wood and landed on the soft dirt floor inside. 

Strohl followed suit with considerably less grace. By the time his feet hit the ground Will had already selected his mount for the evening, a solid but austere chestnut stallion. He took it by its lead, and the horse showed no fear. 

Strohl stood aside helplessly as Will led the beast out of its stall and toward the main gate. “I still don’t know about this,” protested the guardsman. “What if we’re noticed? What if we’re seen? Where are we even going ?” 

“Strohl.” The prince stopped and faced him. His brow hardened. “Do you trust me?” 

The alpha closed his eyes, gathered his bearings, and sighed through his nose. “Yes.” 

“Then be quiet and get on the horse. Can you ride?” 

“Can I ride,” he scoffed. “Please. Give me the reins already.” 

The thing was, he could ride, but a long time had passed since he last had. Will didn’t need to know that he was fourteen when he last commanded a horse. 

Thankfully, the creature was already tacked. Strohl placed his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over saddle. Once settled, he extended his hand to Will, who glanced at it before smiling, taking it, and hauling himself up as well. He made himself comfortable in the space behind Strohl. The press of his body was soft and impossibly warm. The tumult this alone brought Strohl did not include the effects of the omega’s scent, now in closer and more prolonged proximity than ever before. Everywhere was the scent of honeysuckle, seabreeze, and fruit nectar. It accosted his senses and made his mind silly. He knew that if he tried to speak, he would flounder. He did not. 

They rode. Strohl knew neither their purpose nor their final destination, but he knew the way to town. Only one long road, which sooner rather than later turned from dirt to stone, separated the palace from the city Brilehaven. The briny odor of the brackish river that wound south of the palace gave way to the pungent twang of pure ocean water. The great monoliths which made the city famous pierced the veil of the night sky, their shapes great and imposing in the distance but growing larger as they neared. It was not a long journey, but on foot it surely would have taken hours that they lacked. He understood Will’s need for the horse, even if the means were still dubious.

“So we’re here,” Strohl said loudly enough for Will to hear behind him. “Where are we meant to go? What is the plan exactly?” 

Will needed not shout, for he had the advantage of leaning close to the clemar’s ear. “I have a friend who lives in the northmost ward. We’ll stop there to stable our horse. She is expecting me.” 

“She?” wondered Strohl warily. He tried not to shiver at the sensation of Will’s breath fanning against his nape. 

“You’ll see,” countered the prince wryly. “I’ll guide you. We’ll go right here…”

They traversed narrow alleyways in what Strohl quickly deduced to be a less fortunate area of the city. The exteriors of the houses they passed were in disrepair, and their residents’ garb fared not much better. Though the poverty of Brilehaven was little in comparison to the destitution one would find in the slums of Grand Trad, there was undeniable misfortune throughout the entire kingdom. The ongoing, though temporarily qualmed, territorial disputes with their northerly and easterly neighbors that had erupted over the past decade only worsened matters. 

“You certainly have friends in unlikely places,” mused Strohl once Will instructed him to stop. Their surroundings had not discernibly changed. They were outside a simple two-story abode. Some of the windows had been shattered or otherwise removed and were covered by patchwork quilts. A simpering stream of dark gray smoke rose from the chimney and curled into the deep navy sky. 

From the shadow of his oversized hood, Will looked up at him and smiled. “I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He lowered his head when a passerby approached and did not again raise it until he was gone. “Just let me do the talking. For the night, you are my retainer.” 

An alpha retainer, Strohl wanted to question with a scoff, but he supposed it would be rather difficult to discern his true biology. He sighed softly. In fact, it would be hard to differentiate him from the prince’s beta true maids-in-waiting. He frowned. 

A scrawny, unwashed paripus boy opened the door. His dark chestnut hair stood on end around the base of his fluffy, tall ears. “Oy, Catherina! Someone’s here at the door for you!” 

Without another word the young man shuffled away, leaving Strohl to blink haplessly, wondering just exactly what their business here was. Before long a beautiful rose-hued paripus woman, whom Strohl assumed to be the Catherina in question, arrived. She was a fine woman with noticeable curves and a charming face. Her green eyes, which were already so big and inquisitive, somehow impossibly widened upon seeing Will. Indeed, Strohl witnessed her entire face lighten with excitement and recognition. 

“Your Highness!” she cried in a heavy dialect. To the alpha’s utter surprise, she threw her arms around the omega, a display of impropriety which Strohl would have found egregious had he not assumed that Will himself insisted on such behavior. 

Said man laughed softly as he returned the paripus’s embrace, a delicate hand raising to rest between her shoulder blades. He smiled. “It’s good to see you, Catherina. Thank you for heeding my request on such short notice.” 

The woman withdrew, threw back her head, and laughed loudly. “Nonsense! I’d do anything within reason for my favorite prince!” She nudged Will’s bicep playfully. “Though, I will say, your letter left quite a good bit to the imagination! To what exactly do I owe the honor?” She grinned. 

Will, as if hesitating on account of Strohl’s presence, glanced at the clemar. His smile, which had previously been earnest and fond, grew shy. “Well, there are a few provisions I hope to acquire in town: things that I cannot ask my attendants for without suspicion.” 

That aroused suspicion in Strohl . He fought to keep the expression off his face, for he did not want to disappoint Will; yet he had a plethora of questions at that. He dared not ask them at present. 

The paripus made a low sound in her throat and pursed her lips. Then, her smile returned with a salacious glint, and she questioned, “Why, it has nothing to do with that rich alpha you’re notoriously courting, has it?”

Evidently, rumors of Will and Louis’s courtship had traveled outside the palace walls. It should not have surprised Strohl, yet in the purse of his lips was a sourness that he could not help. Catherina’s guess was only confirmed by the way Will’s cheeks colored and his coquettish smile grew meeker yet. “It could be related, yes,” muttered the prince. 

Catherina threw up her arms and sighed resoundingly. “Well! Though I am no big fan of soldiers and noblemen and the like, who am I to stand in the way? You’re welcome to our facilities in whatever way you need them for the night. I can reserve a bed for you, too, should you like.” 

Will bowed his head. “I hope that won’t be necessary, but thank you. Mainly we just need a place to hold the horses and escape to if necessary, until our business is done.” 

The paripus grunted in time with her quick nods, her pink bob shaking along with them. “Good, good, very good. I would offer you tea or something, but I haven’t any!” She laughed, and Will did, too. “Profits are slim this time of year.” 

“That’s fine. Thanks, Catherina.” Will smiled again, and she beamed right back. After a moment, the prince said, “Forgive us, but we should get going. Can’t raise too many questions, after all.” 

Catherina made a low sound signaling her wholehearted agreement. “Right, you are! Well, don’t mind me any. I’ll just be here.” Before she departed, she stopped, turned, and shouted, “Oh, but you didn’t introduce the kind lad you’re with!” 

For some reason, the expression on the omega’s face as he looked up at him made Strohl’s heart squeeze. “Strohl is my special friend. Call him my retainer, for the night.” 

As they walked side-by-side down the narrow street, Strohl battled with unnecessarily oblique ponderings over what “special friend” meant. Will seemed to sense his struggle, and lightly he asked, “Are you all right?” 

Strohl blinked his way out of his stupor and laughed dismissively. “I’m just fine,” but he wasn’t fine, not really. With hesitation he asked, “Why am I really here, Will? Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but I can’t imagine I’m of much more use or any more trustworthy than your other guards. I’m sure Hulkenberg or Heismay would have been more than glad to accompany you, so…why me?” A more indirect way of asking, Why are you torturing me ? 

The omega prince smiled and weighed his answer. “Because I like you. Maybe it’s as simple as that. I didn’t really plan an ulterior motive or anything. I just like being around you. Maybe you’re not more trustworthy, but I trust you in a way I don’t with the others.” 

Strohl frowned. “I still don’t understand. What did I do?” 

Will’s features softened this time when he looked at Strohl. “You’re careful around me, maybe even more than you should be. You’re like them, sure, always panicking and fussing over what I should do and what’s right and wrong; but after you’re done, you always listen to me. You care about what I want. I love Hulkenberg. I love Heismay, and I love Grius, too; but they don’t do the same. To them, I’m their prince first, but to you, I’m not so sure.” 

Strohl longed to choose his subsequent words carefully, but he could not think over the pounding of his heart. “You are my prince first. I don’t know what else you could be above that.” 

“Don’t you?” 

They stopped outside an apothecary. The wind was light but heavy. Strohl suspected rain would soon follow. 

Will smiled apologetically. “I trust you, but some things are still sacred. Would you mind waiting out here a moment? I know you get anxious when I’m alone, but I’ll be quick.”

The guardsman minded the business dubiously but forced himself to look back at Will and slowly nod. “I’ll wait, but if you’ve not returned in five minutes, I’m coming in to look for you.” 

Will’s eyes creased. “Five minutes. Got it.” 

As Will conducted his mysterious business inside, Strohl shuffled listlessly outside the door and tried not to contemplate what the prince was doing. He especially tried not to relate the visit to what Catherina suggested, and how Will’s reaction all but confirmed it. There was little else it could mean: After all, what business does an omega have at an apothecary in relation to courtship with an alpha? The possibility made Strohl’s stomach sour, and he hated to think of it. Thus he chose to not. If he put little stock in the idea, then it wasn’t happening. That was better. 

The prince emerged in time with a nondescript cloth bag under his arm and a quietly satisfied demeanor. Strohl assumed it went well. He offered a little smile. “All set? Anywhere else?” 

Will smiled, too, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. In fact the expression was hesitant and uncomfortable. Strohl would have noticed it immediately, even if he hadn’t smelled the disquiet in the omega’s scent first. He glanced at something beyond Strohl with a delicacy that warned the alpha, Don’t look. Strohl didn’t. Instead he humored Will; but, with his back facing the unknown offending presence, he kept his features grave so Will knew he understood. 

“I’m not sure,” Will pouted, his free hand raising to lightly trail up Strohl’s bicep. “Can’t we go somewhere a little more private?” The last word was spoken with a certain lilt: one of suggestion, an unsubtle hint. 

Strohl endeavored greatly to play along, even though his brain was fizzling over the contact, staged as it may have been. He was hopeless. “What’s wrong, my love?” Something compelled him to not immediately obey. An idea came to him, and he believed this to be the more effective option. 

It was apparent now what had concerned Will: A man was watching them. He was too far away to tell, but Strohl assumed he was an alpha. He may have been simply taken by Will’s appearance or scent. There, of course, was the more urgent possibility that he recognized Will, or suspected whom he really was. Both of these concerns Strohl guessed were why Will was in a state. Regardless of which it actually was, he was determined to help. 

It took only a moment for Will to catch on. He made a soft sound. “There…” 

True to his nature, the alpha chose his next course of action based on instinct rather than calculated thought. Strohl gathered Will with one of his arms and faced the onlooker. He frowned. “Just what do you think you’re doing!” he shouted. “Looking at my omega in such a way, so shamelessly! Why, mate, don’t you run off and get your own!” 

The man, a dirty rhoag in a flat cap and matching plaid coat, was definitely an alpha, for he squared his jaw and expanded his chest. “Aye, lad, easy does it. No need to make a scene of it!” 

“You think this is a scene?” scoffed Strohl, moving in a short burst toward the offender. “Shall I show you what a scene is?” 

“Leon!” wailed Will, pulling on the alpha’s sleeve. “No!” he whined. “Let’s go!” 

In a display true to their charade, Strohl huffed loudly and turned his cheek, every bit the picture of an alpha bidden to the whims of his omega. “Fine,” he said defeatedly, “let’s go!” He jerked his chin up one last time at the alpha stranger before allowing Will to quickly lead him away. It seemed to have worked. The man was likely too stunned by what just transpired to contemplate the identity of the exceptionally beautiful omega any more than he already had. 

Will led him down the nearest alley, a dark and wet cobblestone path canopied by lines of drying clothes. Perturbed as he should have been by the fact that the entire time the prince did not release his arm, Strohl hardly even noticed it. In the haste of their retreat Will’s hood had fallen off his head, and the alpha was enraptured by the sight of his pale hair bouncing with the rhythm of his steps, an enchanting centerpiece above the sweet line of his narrow shoulders. 

They both expected safety once they rounded the corner at the mouth of the alleyway, but their release evaded them: two royal guards, the particular subset of whom patrolled the city under Forden’s command rather than the palace, were before them and approaching. Fortunately, the two women were in the midst of a conversation, though that made their appearance no less alarming. Before Strohl Will skidded to a stop, lurched, and then hastily turned and began pushing the alpha the other way. 

All of this happened so quickly that Strohl hardly had the faculty to process what was happening, all of it appearing behind his eyes as a blur of wild color. He perhaps would have stood there bumbling, had Will not screamed, “Run!” and taken off beside him. 

Strohl followed. He scrambled to chase the prince. Behind them, he heard one of the guards shout, “Whoa, there!” but he did not stop. As an afterthought Will drew up the hood of his cloak. Strohl only prayed it was not too late, but how many other omegas of his stature had sparkling moonpale hair and a rich complexion? 

“Will, slow down!” Strohl laughed breathlessly as they passed over one of the small canal bridges. He had several good inches of inches of height on the omega, but Will was shockingly quick. Strohl was nearly run ragged by the time the prince began to slow down. 

He did not stop completely. They tucked themselves away into a small nook, where Will made absolutely sure they would not be seen. He drew Strohl in by the wrist so that his back was pressed against the wall, and Will made himself small against the alpha’s chest. Strohl wondered, and feared, whether Will could smell the way his scent spiked then, whether he felt the way his already-hammering heart quickened in pace. 

“I think we lost them,” said Will, daring to crane his neck just far enough to spy around the wall. His earrings jangled beside his face. 

The guardsman let his head fall back against the brick wall and closed his eyes. He smiled at the ridiculousness of it all, but he soon devolved completely into laughter. He felt rather than saw Will’s head whip toward him. At first, he did not react, but when Strohl finally cracked his eyes, he saw Will fighting a smile of his own. The prince dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“This is mad! What are we running from?” Strohl could barely get the words out. 

Will pressed his palm over his mouth to stifle his noise. “I don’t even know anymore.” Strohl laughed harder. 

When he was composed enough to finally speak, Strohl sighed. “I feel like a teenager again. How absurd all this is. Sneaking out, stealing a horse, conducting business in shady alleys with all manner of madmen—just what did you come here to buy, anyway?” 

Will’s smile faltered, and he hesitated. “A precaution,” he replied. 

“Precaution for what?” 

Mirth left the prince’s features entirely then. His lashes fluttered, and he sighed softly. “Strohl… You know Louis and I are growing closer. You know that— that things happen.” 

Strohl became grave, too. He shook his head. “Will…” he murmured. “You can’t. Of all my protests, please take this one to heart, if none else. You cannot.”

“I can, though,” insisted Will. “I can do whatever I want. Everyone always seems to forget that. ‘Can’t’ and ‘shouldn’t’ are two different things. I’m tired of being denied every impulse. I want to experience the same things as anyone else. I want to make mistakes, to learn things about myself, to try and fail so that I don’t fail again. Everyone my age has this, but from as long as I can remember, nothing has ever been mine . My possessions, my actions, my allowances. All of it and everything is what someone else has told me is mine. Louis is the one thing I can have to myself: the one thing I made for myself and want to keep for myself, and I want to have him, Strohl. I want him, and I want to have him while I still can, before this is taken from me, too.”

“But what if it's a mistake you can’t walk away from?” Strohl’s tone was not one of admonishment or condescension. It was pensive, resigned, but also soft. “Will, there are the mistakes that we all make—silly, trivial things, thoughtless things—and of course I wish for you to have those as well; but there are those that change the course of your life forever, and this is one of them. I do not say this in the sense that I doubt your capacity to think for yourself and know what is best for you, but there are things you can’t know—things that none of us can possibly know. What if you do this and you regret it? You’re so young , Will. I know you think you want this now, but give it some time. Let yourself at least explore before you travel down a set path.”  

Will smiled faintly. “Am I not entitled to those, too? Life-altering, terrible mistakes?”

Strohl winced. “Of course you are, but—” 

The prince, rather than retort, pressed his pretty hand over Strohl’s flapping mouth and smiled. “You keep calling me ‘Will.’ Will, not, ‘Your Highness.’ Do you realize that?” 

That hammering within Strohl’s breast resurged. It seemed as though all time was slowing down, then. He spoke once Will removed his hand. “Tonight is different,” was all he could think to say. He swallowed. 

Will nodded and smiled. “‘Different,’ yes. I feel it, too. So let this be different, too.” He pressed his hands to the alpha’s chest and looked into his eyes. “Don’t ruin this for me, Strohl. Please . Let me figure it out on my own. If you care about me like I think you do, then grant me this one thing. I’ll be indebted to you.” 

Strohl’s eyes lowered. He smirked humorlessly. “You can’t keep doing that—using my principles against me. It’s not fair.”

“I don’t mean to use them against you. I mean to remind you of them.” Will’s mouth twitched. The wind rustled the waves of his bangs. “If I don’t have at least one person on my side, what is the point of it all? I want someone to serve me , not the idea of me.” 

“And I’m that person?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

As they walked back to Catherina’s home, Strohl battled with his thoughts. Though they refused to be coherently organized, one finally managed to escape. “All right, another question again, one I expect to have answered in exchange for the sacrifices I’m making.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Why Louis?” 

Will made a soft, dismissive sound, but Strohl persisted, “I mean it this time. I don’t want the practiced answer. I want to know what it is about Louis that makes him worth all…this.” He gestured vaguely. 

Will himself paused for a moment. “Well, I want it to be him. I love him. Even if it’s illogical, even if I could have anyone else, he’s the one I want. I decided that years ago.” 

The alpha frowned. “Forgive me, but…could one not assume that this wanting is merely the product of your youth spent together? The experiences you shared?” 

Strohl could hear the smile in Will’s voice when he said, “Why should I deny that? Of course that contributes to it. Louis and I share an understanding that no one else ever will. Even after decades past, after faces come and go, nothing will ever change that. He and I are bound together. Even should we find someone else, the ties would remain.” 

“So you feel a sense of obligation, then?” pressed Strohl. 

“An obligation to cherish and protect him? Of course I do, but not an obligation to love him. That is simply because I do, and I want to.” Will looked at him then and shook his head with mirth. “Not every little thing is duplicitous, Strohl. Just because I have reasons for feeling the way I do does not mean the feelings aren’t my own, nor does it mean I’ve been coerced into something.” 

“There are more reasons?” 

The prince hummed. “Well, those are simple, too.” He grinned. “He’s gorgeous, and why shouldn’t I have a gorgeous alpha?” 

Strohl couldn’t argue with that, though he certainly tried. He scoffed. “Gorgeous and bound by fate. I suppose that’s all it takes.” 

“Well, we also have much in common, and the differences in our characters mesh well. He’s attentive and thoughtful in his own ways. He waits for me, even when he, too, could have anybody else. I think he loves me. I want him to love me. I want to love him.” 

“‘Anybody else,’ but who else is a prince?” Strohl scoffed. 

Will frowned. “I resent that insinuation. I always have. Anybody who thinks Louis is only interested in the crown doesn’t know him at all—nor do they know me, for that matter.” 

Even through a hot wash of guilt, Strohl held his stance. “You can’t seriously deny it. Everyone knows Louis covets power. That is a known fact even more than his beauty.” 

An ivory brow rose. “You admit he’s beautiful, then?” 

Strohl flushed. “Whether he’s beautiful is irrelevant! Will, don’t ignore me.” 

They had reached their destination but were nearly lingering outside, a fact ignored by both. They were merely staring at one another as rain began to drip around them. 

“Strohl, I know you care about me, but hear me now and listen : There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you can say to dissuade me from pursuing this. That’s the one thing about me that no one bothers to understand. I know the risks, and I know the consequences; but both are things I want to face myself. I will face them, with or without you, so I ask that you either support me, or you don’t. Either way, I will have what I want. For what it’s worth, though?” he said softly. “I hope that you are on my side.” 

As Will turned the doorknob to enter, Strohl softly, ruefully, muttered, “You sound just like him.” 

Will’s hand paused in his movements, and he stilled but said nothing. He entered. 

That was another thing about Will. Even when Strohl wanted to be cross with him, he could not. As they freshened up and bid farewell to their transient hosts, and even as they mounted their borrowed horse and began their trek back to the palace, Strohl found his resolve wavering. It was hard to be cross when Will’s cheek was resting against his back. 

True to Will’s promise, they encountered no trouble while returning the steed to his stall. Then, it was back across the darkened fields and through the menacing hedge maze. When they began nearing the palace proper, from where they could surely be seen, they slowed down and designed to part ways. Will would veer right, after which he would exit through a different place than whence they came, and from there he would scale the palace wall to return to his chambers. Strohl was to linger a moment in the gardens under the guise of a nighttime walk, should he be encountered by any curious passersby. 

When it was time to part ways, they lingered a moment. Will took his hand. The distance between them pulled their fingers to the limit, and their fingertips brushed. Will smiled as the rain-heavy air rustled his hair, and Strohl, for the last time that night, inhaled the notes of his scent. 

Just as Strohl ascended the topmost step leading down into the guard’s quarters, he heard a sound, and he glanced up to find the silhouette of Will in the grand hall leaping into Louis’s arms. Laughing, the couple shared a kiss, and Will brought Louis’s face between his hands. Strohl’s smile was forlorn as he resumed his descent. He entered, and he went to bed. 

For Will, Louis’s return was an immeasurably joyous occasion. From the moment lucidity crept back into the prince’s mind as his heat dwindled, his thoughts were consumed with worries about Louis. 

Though his memory of the garden scene remained foggy, he assumed enough—even if only by way of how others reacted to him—to know that it was damning, and Louis was surely bearing a significant portion of the scorn. His banishment from the palace grounds was evidence enough. Will worried over whatever additional punishments Forden may mete. He worried about Louis’s station, about his reputation. Worst of all, he worried that all of this combined may prevent Louis from returning to him. That thought alone was too much to bear. 

His evening with Strohl was a worthy enough diversion to distract him from his anxieties, but it was not foolproof. That night, when he returned only to hear Louis’s voice wryly calling his name, Will felt a brand of relief that was so potent and so immense it could not be detailed in words. Running into his arms, all of Will’s doubts were immediately assuaged. Of course nothing could keep them from one another—not after it all. 

Thus, the very next day, Will resumed his usual behavior with little fanfare. He wore his prettiest, tightest clothing, balmed his lips, broke his fast lightly, and exited his chambers with all degrees of untouchable confidence. 

After said breakfast, the prince joined Louis in the library for one of their favorite regular activities, which was selecting books together and weighing their interest before committing to reading, a pastime they both loved. 

He was escorted by Hulkenberg and Strohl, who warily let him enter while they remained stationed outside the door. Their suppressed scents had been sour since a recent dispute over the time that he was spending with Louis, and the omega longed to be free of it. 

Thankfully, his present company did a wonderful job at ameliorating it. 

He gently shut the door behind him and smiled when he looked at Louis, who was standing before the shelves on the wall closest to him. The shelves sprawled from floor to ceiling across the entire room on both floors, which were connected by a narrow spiral staircase. The only reprieve was the large paneled windows, which Will loved to curl up beside to lose himself for a few hours in the evenings. 

It was their favorite room in the palace, a sanctuary separated from the bloodthirsty machinations of the royal court. Here, they found solace not only in the literature they shared, but also in one another’s company. These meetings had grown more frequent in time, and they were something that Will had come to anticipate eagerly. 

“What are our options today?” Will asked as he approached the alpha. His heavy scent settled over him like a cloak and relaxed his shoulders as much as it softened his own. He stopped at Louis’s side and looked down at the open pages of the tome he held. 

“A diatribe on the relations of the ishkia tribe and the church, a theoretical application of dried sandworm larvae to calm the omega heat, and a brief history of the fisherman clans of Oceana, from the year five-fifty to the present day.” The taller elda snapped the book shut and offered it to him with a small smile. “Take your pick.” 

Will hummed for a long moment, pretending to be in thought, before saying, “Well, I am curious about practical solutions for mating cycles…” 

Louis read an excerpt from the first page, and Will rested his head against his arm and closed his eyes. He loved hearing Louis’s voice, but the truth of the matter was, it was the closest he dared get to unabashedly scenting him. Though he was just shy of a half-foot away from the alpha’s neck, he could smell him so strongly like this. It made his heart sing and his belly clench. He turned his head slightly, so that his eye and the side of his nose were pressed against Louis’s warm bicep, and he sighed happily. 

He did not notice at first when Louis stopped reading. Once he did, he raised his head and found Louis looking down at him with an unreadable face but clearly one of fondness. Will blushed, but he did not avert his eyes. He looked back and smiled. Louis shut the book and set it aside. 

“I missed you while I was away,” the blond confessed, and Will preened inside as Louis took his face in hand and thumbed over the softness of his cheek. “I thought of you every night.” 

“You did?” Will asked airily. 

Louis hummed. “Most truthfully. Were my venture not so short, I would have written to you. A pale substitute for the sound of your speaking voice, but it would have sufficed, until you were in my arms again.” 

Will already felt his knees grow weak from the words, but they were properly done in when Louis bridged the gap between them and kissed him. He sighed through his nose and drew his arms up around his neck, standing on the tips of his toes to make it easier for his partner. It came naturally by now. He felt that he was in the right place, there in Louis’s strong arms. 

The alpha tilted his head marginally so that their mouths were slotted together more openly, and he teased the entrance of the omega’s mouth with the tip of his tongue. Will’s next exhale was soft and shaky against his face. His fingers bunched up the fabric at the blond’s nape when he pressed his tongue into Will’s mouth.  

Despite himself, his reaction went straight to his groin, and he knew from the hot and restless sensation inside that he was growing wet. He clenched his insides and his thighs as well as he whimpered softly, and he pulled back to breathe and to shut down the thoughts before they could run away with him. 

“Louis,” he breathed, a sound that transformed into a moan when the other elda latched onto his scent gland and sucked it gently. Will’s entire body trembled. “We must stop this. It’s too much, and I won’t be able to keep it up. I can’t—” 

“Then don’t deny it,” Louis argued, his tongue swift in its broad stroke over the omega’s neck. “Impulse exists for a reason. It belies the true nature of our hearts. You long for me, and I long for you. To fight our desires would only lead us to ruin.” 

“You’re a lush,” Will laughed, turning his head away from the blond’s attempt at a kiss. “One could argue that— in giving in to lust, you’re just overindulging. Restraint, you know, it is a virtue.” 

“So they say.” The elda chuckled under his breath, his lips pressed to the curve of the omega’s jaw. “That is, if you are witless enough to believe in the Sanctist doctrine, which would subdue the masses with false guilt by suppressing what is only natural to them.” 

Will groaned and pushed at Louis’s chest until the other elda was forced to free him. He paced a bit forward and brushed his hair back from his face as he caught his breath. He was flustered in more ways than one. He knew, if one were to lift his sarong, the front of his underclothes would be dark with wetness. 

He braced his palms against the shelf before him and closed his eyes. “No matter what pretty words you use, I’m not stupid , Louis. I know what you want. Maybe I want it too, but that doesn’t mean you should have it.” 

“No,” Louis agreed grimly. He hadn’t moved any closer, but he was watching Will, who could feel his gaze. “You’re not.” 

Will anxiously grabbed the discarded book they were reading and opened it by way of distraction. He pretended to absorb the words on the pages, but he hardly saw them. “In having me, I would have no choice but to be your mate. My scent would be forever soiled by yours. This would end in one of two ways.” His shaking fingers turned the page.

Louis moved closer. He was behind Will. He raised a crooked finger and brushed the hairs at the prince’s nape aside so he may press a kiss to the top of his spine. Will’s eyes were wide, unblinking, as he willed himself to stay still. 

“And what…are these two outcomes?” Louis asked. His lips tickled the omega’s skin as he spoke. 

Will held his breath until he couldn’t any longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “That…you would be killed. Forden would have you slain for treason, publicly or in the shadows. Or…” 

“Or?” Louis’s hand slid upward along his thigh, long fingers splayed over the smooth brown flesh, which pimpled in his wake. 

Will swallowed thickly. He felt lightheaded, for Louis was pressing against him. Through the thin layers that separated them, he felt the length of Louis’s excitement between his cheeks. “Or, or he would have us mate, and you would be my consort, on the throne beside me.” 

Those same fingers continued traveling upward and upward, until they slid under the sheer silk that was wrapped around his waist and right over where he was damp and eager. 

He threw his head back and gasped, raising his arm up to hold the side of Louis’s face. His hips moved of their own accord, his body writhing as he pressed into the touch of Louis’s two fingers, which dragged across the crevice between his cheeks. When they pressed over his entrance, he keened and jolted forward. 

This continued for some time, Louis teasing and rubbing him, and Will rutting his hips with rapidly dissolving composure. He twisted at the waist and raised his head for a desperate kiss, which Louis obliged, and Will muffled the sound of his moans into his mouth.

It was too much, too intense , too wrong, too foolish, and yet his restraint crumpled more and more every day. His mouth followed the example of his brain and reminded himself how terrible of an idea this is, and yet his body betrayed him, seeking Louis out in privacy time and again even though he knew that with each time, they came closer and closer to the ledge. One day, one of them would step off, and the other would hopelessly tumble down after him. 

“Louis,” he panted. His words were cut short when they met at the worst angle, and Louis’s finger slipped under the hem of his shorts. He sobbed softly at the sensation of the alpha’s skin directly touching that most sensitive part of him for the first time. Alarms sounded in his head, a dire warning: stop, stop, stop this before you’re lost, stop it before it goes any further , but he was too late in voicing those concerns. 

Rather than retract it, Louis slid his finger in further, tracing soft dampened skin and parting his cheeks until he was there, touching him, gliding over his entrance, and finally, with shamefully little resistance, inside him. 

Will sobbed wordlessly, his hands scrambling for purchase on the nearest part of Louis he could find. He sunk his nails in, thrashed, and whimpered as he was penetrated. Never had he taken anything else, beyond his own fingers, and it was so similar, yet so different. He swore he had never been this wet before, not even during his heats—the press was so easy. There wasn’t even the smallest fraction of discomfort. It was pure, raw, unbridled ecstasy, and Will was having trouble staying upright. Louis took the cue. 

The following moments were a blur. Will remembered turning around at the alpha’s greedy behest and kissing him deeply. He remembered Louis grabbing him by the hips and throwing him up into his arms, his ass filling each of Louis’s hands, which kneaded the soft flesh hungrily. He remembered their tongues and teeth clashing, the way his manic heartbeat felt pounding against Louis’s through their breasts, and how Louis set him down on the nearest table and began fumbling his trousers down. 

Will mindlessly began sliding the shrug off his shoulders and pulling down the neck of his top, so it bunched up under his armpits. All the while they were kissing, stopping only when they needed to wrestle free of something. Louis’s cock was there before him, angry and flushed and dripping, and Will spread his thighs wide, so that he, too, was exposed, swollen and sopping wet. 

He slid—or perhaps Louis pulled him—down to the very edge of the table and reached up for the alpha manically. They kissed again, moaning into each other’s mouths. Louis pressed the entire length of three fingers into him, and Will let out a debauched, weak sound, bucking his hips down until knuckles were bumping his cheeks and stars were shooting behind his eyelids. 

He watched it for a while, the way he looked spread around Louis’s fingers, the way his cock rested so prettily on his thigh meat, and the way Louis watched him with pupils the size of pinpoints. He felt himself wavering, and it showed in the way fresh slick gathered on his partner’s knuckles. 

The blond made a low, feral sound, his jaw tightening, and he seemed to consider it for only a second before he was sinking to the floor and throwing Will’s legs open even further. 

The smaller elda had not even a moment to protest, for Louis shoved his arse into his mouth. All attempts at coherent thought were subsequently overridden. 

“Oh, God, Louis!” Will cried, his head falling back, sweaty palm slipping where he feebly held himself up on his arms. 

Louis was unrelenting. He fucked him with his rigidly held tongue and sucked at the juice that flowed forth wantonly. He alternated this with licking long, full stripes up from his hole to his twitching cockhead, which he sucked between his lips with equal vigor. When he did this, he replaced his fingers so far inside that Will swore he kissed the mouth of his womb. 

Needless to say, the prince was utterly overcome by these ministrations. He was struggling in vain to keep quiet, for he knew that others could hear; and if they were heard, that would be very bad. But this pleasure was new to him, and it was so much better than he could have ever conceived. He could not be blamed for the way he whimpered and gasped and sobbed, not with an alpha of unmatched beauty working his body so very well. 

“Louis,” He barely managed to say the elda’s name, his voice was so strained and thin. He had since stopped trying to remain upright and was laying on his back, though it was deeply arched. Between his fingers he fisted the blond’s curls until they pulled taut at his scalp. His thighs around the alpha’s head clenched and flexed. He felt he may faint. “ Oh, Louis—” 

His orgasm ripped through him as a shudder, one that was slow and had his entire lower half seizing. He heaved the air from his lungs and turned his cheek, so that his blissful face was halfway pressed into the cool wood of the desk. His eyes were closed and his lips parted. 

Louis kept licking him, coaxing out all the sweetness that Will could offer, which he lapped at as though Will’s hole was an oasis, and of its water he must drink or otherwise die. Will was inconsolable. 

Overstimulated to the point of displeasure, he pushed at Louis’s forehead until he pulled back. The sight of Louis with rubied lips and the lower half of his face shining with Will’s own slick had him leaking anew. He choked on a quiet gasp as he coaxed him closer. 

Louis helped him up. They kissed, and neither cared to wipe the alpha’s sticky chin. Will tasted himself on his tongue and knew some of the sweetness that intoxicated the alpha so terribly. Louis thumbed his abused cock, and though it sent shockwaves through his body, he parted his knees to let him do as he wanted with him. 

Well, almost anything. 

The blond took his neglected hardness in hand and guided it between Will’s cheeks. He spread him and glided his head across the flushed and puffy skin. Though it felt nauseatingly good, Will snatched his wrist between his fingers and stopped him. 

“Louis, no,” he panted. He shook his head. “We can’t .” 

Their foreheads bumped, and Louis said thinly, “We can .” As though to illustrate his seductive point, he teased Will’s entrance again, not quite penetrating him, but just barely dipping into the pull of his wet heat. In turn Will squirmed involuntarily and huffed, but he did not relent, even if he did selfishly enjoy the feeling of him so close, so hot, and so hard. 

“No,” the prince murmured, their mouths brushing and their breaths shared. His body trembled with dithering restraint that would give at any moment. He drew back, and Louis pushed forward. It was a torturous dance. He knew that it would end, only, he was uncertain whether he had the strength to do it, or if he would be ruined. 

Now, while this iniquitous scene was unfolding within the library, without it still stood Strohl and Hulkenberg. Fortunately for our dear Prince Will, neither alpha had overheard his noises and interpreted them as sounds of pleasure. The two guards did, in fact, hear something , but they had no reason to believe it to be anything other than quiet conversation or laughter as the prince and the count usually shared. 

Rather, it was the length of time that passed from when Will entered the library to the present moment that disturbed Strohl, for he did not trust Louis alone with His Highness for even a brief moment, let alone any prolonged length of time. 

He thus grew restless and shifty, even though Hulkenberg more than once swatted across the length of the door and hissed, “Cease that!” 

But Strohl could not. At last, he broke formation and cried, “It has been nearly an hour! What possibly could they be doing in there for an hour unchaperoned?” 

Hulkenberg scowled at him. “Oh, for the love of God, Strohl, I don’t know— reading , perhaps?” she countered dourly. 

Strohl scoffed and rolled his eyes. “‘Reading,’ yes, I do so love ‘reading’ behind closed doors with my omega friends!” 

Hulkenberg pinched between her brows and groaned. “Strohl, His Highness has read with Louis many a time before you even stepped foot in this palace! Just because Louis has made known his intentions does not mean that suddenly everything has changed! Do you truly doubt His Highness’s virtue just because you are jealous of Louis?” 

Strohl scoffed. He acted affronted, though his hot face belied some truth in the words. “Why— how dare you!” 

“Oh, please. You fancy His Highness! We all know it! Now, your delusion of having a chance may be jeopardized, and you are panicking—”

“And what about you?” Strohl stepped away from his side of the doorframe and stood before the other alpha. He eyed her seriously and scrutinously. “ You have been in love with His Highness even longer than I supposedly have. Don’t! Don’t try to deny it.” He shook his head in disbelief slowly. “How can you let this happen when you care for him so ardently?” 

The roussainte’s fingers trembled minutely as she grasped the shaft of her spear. She grit her teeth and looked to the side, finding nothing to say. 

Strohl took a deep breath and finally announced, “Well, even if you are too much of a coward to break form for the sake of ensuring his well-being, I am not.”  

“W— Strohl !” the roussainte cried in horror, but it was too late. 

Strohl shoved open the door and entered. 

What he saw not only confirmed his worst fears, but also shocked him cold and still in his boots. 

The prince was there, on the table, nearly completely bare. His nudity was only obscured because Louis stood between his thighs, his hand inexplicably between them, doing God only knows what. Strohl could not see the exact nature of their intimacy from the angle at which he stood, but he knew for certain that it was not the sort of behavior sanctioned by the late king, and every bit the kind that Strohl was meant to be sparing him from—!

“Your Highness!” 

Will saw him enter, but his mind took a moment to process it. Once he did, he shoved Louis away and scrambled to wrench his sarong down over his and tug up his blouse to cover his hardened nipples. “Strohl,” he said hurriedly. “We weren’t doing what you think we were, so please, don’t make this a scene—” 

“Well, you certainly looked like you were close enough!” the clemar shouted grievously. God, the state Will was in would be forever etched in his memory. Even if he felt he was committing treason by looking, he could not stop. It wasn’t until Hulkenberg was at his side, throwing her hands over her mouth to muffle a quiet sound of horrified surprise, that he was able to look away. He cursed under his breath and hardened his jaw, his entire body trembling with subdued rage and dolor. Their scents were so heavy, a thick and unbearable toxin tainting the air. He could not even focus on Will’s, for Louis’s was much more pungent to his alpha nose. It only spiked his ire further. 

Ah, that was right. Louis. 

“ You! ” he seethed, shaking finger pointed at the elda, who had turned away in favor of tucking himself back into his trousers and smoothing back his hair. Strohl tightened his hold on his spear. “You absolute monster! ” 

“Strohl!” 

It was havoc. Strohl charged at Louis; Will begged for them to stop; and Hulkenberg squawked and flew after her comrade. 

Strohl grabbed Louis by the collar and jerked him forward into his space. The clemar’s features were cracked and consumed by unbridled furor. “We could have you hanged for this, you rutting bastard! How dare you desecrate our prince like this! I knew you would do this, I knew it! I’ll kill you myself, if the regent doesn’t have your neck first!” 

“Strohl, stop!” Will shouted with such finality that Strohl looked at him, then slowly loosened his hold on the other alpha’s blouse. 

The clemar’s eyes were wide with adrenaline and pain. Louis pinched the fabric of his blouse and yanked it free from his grasp before clicking his tongue and turning away. 

Flustered, the omega pulled the fabric of his shrug tighter and huffed. “First of all, shut the door !” he whispered hastily. “We can’t be seen!” 

Strohl let out a quiet, astounded laugh. He ran his hand through his hair. “Can’t be seen , Will, this…” 

The prince interrupted him by raising his hand. “I know . I don’t need you two to patronize me like I’m a child!” he cried. “I know what I’m doing, just like I know the implications of it, why it’s wrong, why it’s dangerous. I know all of that. I don’t need to hear it.” 

Hulkenberg’s shock had given way to sad resignation. When she returned to Strohl’s side, her features were sullen. “Your Highness…” 

“I know…that this is a burden to you, and I’m sorry,” Will continued. He caged his palm between his bare thighs and looked down at it as he spoke. “It’s selfish. I know that, too, and it’s unfair. But I’m also a grown man!” He huffed. “There are things I want, and things other people have that I want to have for myself. Maybe this makes me cruel. I don’t know, but…” Opening his eyes, he looked off to the distance as if painting the sad longing picture in his mind. “I know that I want to make my own choices for once. For the first time, and maybe for the last time in my life.”

Louis, who had turned his back to him while all of this was being said, slowly looked over his shoulder at Will, whose pale eyes caught his and softened. 

The prince kicked his bare feet out and finally said to his guards, “I just hope that maybe you can find it in you to protect this secret, too.” 

Hulkenberg was the first to speak. “Your Highness—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “What you are asking is indeed a great task! Why, to do it—to stand by idly and allow you to be, be defiled —why, it would mean the utter betrayal of our vows!” She tried looking at Louis but was too disgusted to keep it up, so she looked back at Will and tried to harden her brow. “I cannot abide those very consequences that you alluded to. To ruin your chances not only, but to potentially conceive an illegitimate heir as an omega —”

“He is right.” 

Nobody expected the frozen Strohl to speak at that moment, let alone say what he did, but it was indeed him who said it. 

After a moment, the clemar raised his head and clarified, “His Highness has every right to do as he pleases, for we are his subjects before we are his protectors. Not to mention, as we have recently discussed, if…Count Louis intends to mate him, and His Highness wishes for that, too, then the harm is minimal.”

Hulkenberg was aghast. “Strohl!” 

But the clemar only looked at Will, and though his eyes shone with emotion unsaid, he asked firmly, “ Is that what you want, my prince? To truly take Louis as your mate?” 

Will’s lips parted, his lashes fluttering. He glanced at the other elda, who was watching him with a blank but focused expression. After a moment, he said, “Yes. I see no reason he wouldn’t make as good a mate as any other.” 

It hurt. God, it still hurt, even after all was said and done and Strohl knew that Will understood Louis’s possible intentions. 

It also hurt because maybe, just maybe , there was some truth to Hulkenberg’s words, and just maybe, a part of the naive and sweet Strohl had fooled himself into believing there was some shot of hope… 

“Then your secret is ours to protect, just as your body is,” Strohl said, bowing low to his liege. 

Hulkenberg was slower to pay obeisance, but after a moment, she sniffed and did the same.

Will watched them both with a small smile before relieving them. Now, with the conflict settled for the time being, they all were again becoming aware of the predicament at hand, and Will squirmed uncomfortably. He was sitting in a puddle of his own slick and was alight with many emotions. 

He looked for the source but found Louis making for the door. 

“Where are you going?” scoffed Hulkenberg, affronted that he would just leave after what he had caused, let alone with Will in such a state. 

“I’ve no need to linger any longer. I cannot possibly be seen leaving with His Highness, so I shall take mine now.” As if remembering himself, he paused at the door, gave a short bow, and then jerked it open and swiftly departed. If he was concerned about others seeing him, or smelling Will’s scent on him, he did not show it. 

“Let him,” Will reassured, and he waved his hand. 

The roussainte huffed, then looked at Strohl warily. They both were quite negatively affected by the smell of another alpha’s arousal and needed some reprieve from it. 

Luckily, it was not long before their prince spoke up, though his voice was quiet and shy when he stammered, “So, my friends… Could one of you by chance fetch me a handkerchief or a towel, maybe?”