Chapter Text
There are many fabled children of Zwaardsrust. Among them is the lands oldest and most storied daughter; Koningin Begonia, the first Queen of Zwaardsrust. According to Drustian legend, Begonia was wise, beautiful, and just, as any queen should be, and loved her kingdom and its people with a deeply rooted passion that spread across the entire land. The love she harbored for her sworn knight and protector, however, was a love like no other.
Entangled though they were, her love would never blossom to fruition. Koningin Begonia’s knight perished on the battlefield. Heart broken and inconsolable, the Queen took to the withered remains of the field where her lover succumbed, and planted on it a canvas of flowers. Upon the battleground were asters, larkspurs, wisterias, and purple clematis named after her love, as far as the eye could see.
The field came to be known as the Slagveld in generations come to pass. And so that Zwaardsrust would always remember their first queen, it became tradition to name every member of the royal family after one of the flowers planted by their ancestor.
Though long since passed from this realm, it is said that Koningin Begonia still lurks on the Slagveld in some part. Perhaps due to her lingering regrets at never being able to join with her knight in the living world, but the fraction of her spirit that still lingers is not fully malevolent as some restless wanderers are believed to be.
Rather, with her undying love for Zwaardsrust and her people, fables tell that should two people plant a flower on the Slagveld, they will be blessed by Begonia and fated never to be apart for as long as they live. Under her divine protection, always. Another tale preaches that should affections between them prove empty or unrequited, a curse of hardship should strike them again and again. However, this part of the legend is scarcely believed, spurred on by the embittered and faithless.
As the years turned to decades, and decades grew to centuries, no one really knew whether this myth bore any truth. But it has become something of an old myth; an exploration merely for adventurous and inexperienced lovers to test the bonds of their devotion to one another.
Journal entry, Anonymous. Date unknown.
——✿❀✿——
Even in her modest disguise, the Princess of Heliodor stood out amongst the buzzing, drunken crowd of the old tavern. She wore a hood to obscure her face and the simple attire of a peasant girl, yet still, her posture was composed; regal bearing, and possessed an air that commanded attention and respect. She was not here to garner such things, of course, but surely any nosey onlookers would have been curious as to why such an elegantly beautiful woman was seated across the table from none other than Sylvando, one of the most notorious swords for hire across all of Erdrea. Perhaps better known to some by his alias; Lady Bombastic, La Rosa Del Mar. It was an odd sight, but most patrons of the tavern knew better than to ask questions when it came to any business of La Rosa.
“You have my gratitude for agreeing to meet with me here tonight,” Jade started, “I have an important request for you, one regarding my…” Even in the dark, the trepidation upon her face was still apparent. “…regarding my betrothed. As you know who I am, you also know that I have the means to pay you a great deal for your services.”
Sylvando spoke, legs clad in worn out black boots crossed on top of the table, “You certainly went through a great deal to reach me, my little darling. Six months worth of missives and messenger birds following me everywhere we sailed, each and every one of them more desperate than the last, practically begging for us to meet here. And now here I finally am… you sure know how to make a man feel wanted, no?”
Jade scoffed unbecomingly, but it was obvious to Sylvando that such a gesture was not towards him. Something else weighed heavily on her mind, likely the entire reason they were fated to meet here in the first place. She had been on edge since before Sylvando had arrived, fashionably late, per his branding. “I should hope not,” The princess shook her head, her voice quiet and mild-tempered despite appearing slighted just moments ago, “That is the problem here that needs dealing with. To garner any man’s attentions would not only be a slight to myself, but towards my beloved.”
“Your beloved?” Sylvando asked, “Right, that little Drustian prince...” He had heard of their engagement, but most had, minus perhaps those who lived underneath the waves the Stallion sailed over. What would she have him do?
“Oh please,” the princess scoffed again, and Sylvando had started to think it was something she did often. “He is anything but little, and my beloved? I think not.”
“You don’t love him?” Now Sylvando was curious. That was an odd revelation, considering that Princess Jade was to be wed in only a week’s time.
“How could I? There is no love between us, at least not of the… marriageable kind,” Jade waved her hand as if to dismiss the thought, “I have known Hendrik since I was a child, and I know more than anyone that he is just going along with all of this for the sake of pleasing our families. Too loyal for his own good, it’s almost admirable, but that’s not quite going to work for me. Though my father has promised me to the prince, I’m afraid that I have promised myself to another.”
Sylvando gave out a heartened chuckle and a shake of his head. “Going against the wishes of old daddy dearest?” He had no time to get involved with the superficial problems burdened onto the rich and powerful, but a part of Sylvando loved the dramatic scandal of it all. The theatrics. “But what of your husband to be? If he is as loyal as you say, he surely wouldn’t approve of being left at the altar. Who knew la princesa was such a cunning little minx!”
“Call me that again, and I will make sure to break every bone in your body,” Jade warned him, “But I don’t have the time to find another mercenary, let alone one of your accord. The wedding is in a week, and Hendrik is expected in Heliodor by tomorrow.”
“Expected…?” Sylvando emphasized, trying to fill in a blank but he undoubtedly already knew the answer. No one ever hired him for anything pleasant. “You mean, of course, to have me…”
“No,” His companion interrupted with a shake of her head, much to his surprise, “He is not to be killed, or harmed at all for that matter. I don’t want you to kill him, rather, I think it best that you… abduct him?” Her phrasing turned into more of a question, as if suddenly bashful. Sylvando could hardly blame her; Jade was of a certain standing. She probably never had to dirty her hands once in her privileged life, let alone go against the very order that her father the King represented. One didn’t just simply order a kidnapping, let alone the kidnapping of the only prince of Zwaardsrust, and yet here she was doing just that. It took guts. That or she was simply insane, certainly way in over her head, but Sylvando could respect that. He respected crazy.
Even then, he couldn’t help the flash of surprise that lit up his face as he sat upright. “Abduct him?” These royals were certainly interesting, weren’t they? Their money wasn’t half bad either. “And just what do you suppose I do with him? I am a very busy man, you know. I can’t just be expected to babysit some spoiled rich boy.”
“Oh, but that is exactly what I’m asking you to do,” Jade leaned in closely, “There cannot be a wedding without a bride or groom. I only need you to hold onto him until my beloved and I make our escape. Just a month, that will give us more than enough time to surpass even my father’s reach. And I will pay you of course, upfront, for your troubles.”
She settled a purse onto the table, and the sound of coin jingling already resounded itself in Sylvando’s welcoming ears. He peaked inside, and in the pouch was more gold than he had ever seen in his life. Ever would see, assuming he somehow died in the process of this all. A very likely prospect, considering.
Any man less courageous than he would have likely called it quits by then, and for good reason. Hendrik van de Langenberg was not only a prince, but an accomplished knight and one of Zwaardsrust’s most celebrated sons. Or so Sylvando had heard. Getting him to go anywhere he didn’t want to would be a challenge all on it’s own were those rumors to hold any true merit, and one challenge that any sane person wouldn’t be up to taking. But luckily for them both, he was Lady Bombastic, La Rosa del Mar. And Lady Bombastic was not anywhere near sane.
Sylvando pocketed his new find. “That’s all very well and good then, but how am I supposed to get some unwilling soul onto my boat unharmed? What if the little princey poo had an oopsie? Just a tiny one?”
“He won’t,” Jade stressed, “Maybe just a hit over the head if you absolutely need it, and only because he enraged me the last time we spoke with a bunch of poetic nonsense about duty, but nothing more. Follow this order, and I’ll be sure to pay you double.”
“Yes, yes,” Sylvando said, “We speak the same language, my dear. Not a lavender hair upon his head shall come under any harm so long as he’s my responsibility.”
“That’s odd,” the princess paused, as if suddenly inspecting Sylvando closely. A pale hand was placed upon her chin in thought, and she asked him, “I don’t remember describing him to you yet. Have you seen him before?” Another question interrupted that one, “Where did you say you were from?”
He ignored the latter to answer the first, “Oh, I’ve encountered the little prince once before.” It technically wasn’t a lie. “During some parade, I think, back when I was just a boy. Young Prins Hendrik rode on the back of this behemoth of a black horse, his back ramrod straight atop of it. He was so tiny compared to it, I’ve never seen anything more ridiculous in my life.”
That explanation seemed to please Jade. “That sounds like Hendrik,” A look of fondness washed over her face before she moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “There will be a ball two nights from now, with everyone wearing masks. My idea of course, as conveniently nefarious as it is. I want to have one more night of fun before I settle down.” Or so she would have everyone believe. “My husband to be will be there. You can make your move then.”
She made the prospect seem so simple, but it was always easier said than done. Then again, technically she was the only one who said anything, with Sylvando as the lucky one who would do all of the… doing.
“And I’m just supposed to wander up and grab him? What about guards? Onlookers? Surely someone ought to notice when he goes missing?” Sylvando asked.
“I leave that up to you, you’re the expert after all,” Jade stood up, prepared to make her leave, “Not to mention a cunning little minx. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” And at that Sylvando couldn’t help but smile.
He meant to stop her for one more question, but Princess Jade seemed to read his mind. “Your second payment you can retrieve in two weeks. Meet me at the Slagveld in Zwaardsrust.”
“Why of all places would you want to stop there?” Sylvando stared at her cheekily before his voice took on a teasing tone. “How sweet! Don’t tell me that Miss Princess believes in that silly old fairytale?”
“It’s really none of your concern what I believe in, but if you must know, then yes. I do. The promise of being bonded together, forever… What better place to take my future wife as we start our new lives together?”
Jade really was quite naïve, Sylvando thought to himself. But she had the self assuredness and the know how (or at least the money) to get what she wanted, that couldn’t be argued, so he supposed she wasn’t so bad after all. He admired her optimism. To be young and recklessly in love, what a sweet solace.
When all was said and done and the curtain finally closed, maybe she would be alright. As for Prins Hendrik, well? He was merely a means to an end. Certainly a little heartbreak never hurt anyone, and it was made all the sweeter when it helped line Sylvando’s pockets with gold. He had a crew to pay, mouths to feed, and a ship to maintain, after all. Being a king in his own right came with more than enough responsibility to keep him occupied.
“I can’t think of any place better, darling,” Sylvando turned to answer her question, but Jade had already disappeared into the night.
——✿❀✿——
Sylvando’s thoughts couldn’t help but linger on the princess, at least for a little while longer, as he made his return to the Stallion docked east of Heliodor. He had been commending Jade beforehand for her naïveté and stubbornness, which almost endeared Sylvando to her in a protective, motherly sort of way, but the gravity of the situation he was about to throw himself into for her had begun to settle itself into the hole in his chest. Jade was the princess of Heliodor, one of the most powerful kingdoms on Erdrea, she could have had anything she wanted. But naturally she vied for the one thing her father, the only one whose power ranked above her own, denied her? A carefree life of luxury, a spoiled girl even, Sylvando thought to himself; how did that teach duty? He would never wish harm on the princess, of course. After all, was it so wrong to want to be with the woman she loved?
He was about ten years her senior, maybe eleven or twelve at the most but… Goddess, had Sylvando ever done anything that reckless when he was her age? Oh, who was he kidding? Of course he had. And what of her husband to be, Prins Hendrik, what was he like? Jade had made mention of his upmost commitment to seeing their marriage through, but had been forthcoming when she told Sylvando that she doubted Hendrik’s sincerity. Would he fight Sylvando to make his way back to her? Kick and scream, throw a tantrum at not having his way? That would be akin to most men he knew. It sounded like a headache just waiting in the wings. He dealt with enough sulking from his dear Erik, bless his heart.
Or maybe, if Sylvando was lucky, Prins Hendrik would merrily hop on to their boat and beg to be taken away, relieved at the chance of escaping his destiny. Sylvando could retire rich and comfortably, and settle somewhere on one of the islands lining the Costa Valor perhaps. Finding someone to settle down with, too, to share it all with? That would be a nice future. Indeed one far too nice for someone like Lady Bombastic, who earned his gold off of deals made in dimly lit alleys and seedy taverns.
Maybe it would be easy. It never was, but by the princess’s influence, Sylvando allowed himself a little optimism. There was no harm in daydreaming now and then, as long as it didn’t distract him from his work.
Speaking of which, Sylvando announced his return to the Stallion and her crew. “Dave! Erik! I have a job for you!” he sang, “The rest of you, too! Out here!”
One by one, his merry band of mercenaries all peeped their heads out from above the hull. Like happy little daisies, Sylvando thought to himself with giddiness. None looked too pleased at being woken up at such a late hour of the night, but hopefully their expressions would give way to a bit of cheer when he relayed their next job.
“Oy, Sylv! I was up worried sick waitin’ for you!” Though it would have been impossible to tell while hiding under his pink leather mask, Dave had almost been beside himself with tears. He wrapped an arm around Sylvando in his desperate show of relief, and pulled his old friend close as one by one the others surrounded them.
“I knew you would be alright, Mr. Sylvando,” Meena was second to greet him, “The cards foretold of your safe return to us.”
Her sister, Maya groaned from her spot next to Meena. “Arey, little sister, you would let those cards tell you what to eat for breakfast if they could. I want to hear about the princess, is she really as beautiful as they say?”
“Did someone mention something about a beautiful princess?” Angelo was suddenly attentive.
Sylvando brushed their comments all aside, his tone relaxed but authoritative, as if he were corralling school children instead of pirates. “Now, now, my darlings, keep it down. Princess Jade was certainly as intimidating and beautiful as the gossip proclaimed, though I could hardly see her in the dead of night. As for you, Angie, don’t get ahead of yourself, eh? Something tells me that she favors the fairer sex.”
Angelo swiped his long, white hair to the side. He hardly looked discouraged, and said, “Shouldn’t we all? I cannot hold that against her.”
That lead to more speculation and gossip. Watching his crew talk loudly amongst themselves, bickering here and there, Sylvando could not help but crack open a smile. They all had their quirks, oddities, and were the castaways of regular society, not unlike himself, but they were all trustworthy and competent in their own way. Each and every one of them brought something different to his table, expanding his repertoire, and the mercenary could not have asked for a better crew to be by his side.
His second in command, Dave, and Sylvando shared a long, almost complicated history together. For a moment perhaps they would have been more than captain and quartermaster. Their break up had for all intents and purposes been amicable, and now they remained side by side as greater allies than ever before. Sylvando had allowed his friend the grand opportunity of designing their sails; a blinding pastel pink. Though he did have an eye for flair, it certainly wouldn’t have been his first choice. But Dave had insisted that a pirate as bold and unique as Sylvando called for a daring color to at least try to compliment him. There was no one else like him, Dave had said, so why not raise sails unlike any the ocean had ever seen before?
Among the rest of the crew were his twins, Meena and Maya. Two sisters from a small village south of Gallopolis. Before Sylvando had recruited them onto the Stallion, Meena and Maya made their coin through fortune telling and dancing, respectively. His Maya was a handful; an extravagant beauty with a fire burning within to match her passionate dancing on the outside, which was second to none. Meena on the other hand, was even-tempered, calm, more like a mother than a sister. Like the moon; elegant, glowing, with one side always mysteriously unreadable. They were opposites in everything aside from their appearance, as all twins seemed to be. Strangely, Sylvando saw bits of himself in both of them.
Then there was Angelo. His horrible little Angie, where to begin? Angelo was a former clergyman from a church some ways out from Gondolia, and now served as the resident surgeon and healer on the Stallion. Regardless of that calling, he was anything but nurturing, and preferred to spend his nights gambling and vying for the hand of any woman who had the misfortune of looking in his direction. Angelo was fussy, lazy, and indifferent to most things, but chivalrous and handsome, with a strange capacity to read others, which was likely the only reason Sylvando really kept him around. That and, Angelo somehow always stuck around despite his insistence that he would rather be anywhere else.
As for Erik, he was a bit of a… special case. Sylvando had taken a shine to the young man after Erik had attempted and failed to pickpocket the captain’s wallet from right under his nose. It might have been a weakness of his, but Sylvando had the inclination to take the disadvantaged under his wing; people like Erik with no other direction left to turn to, except down the path of thievery. Erik was… wait, Sylvando took pause; where was Erik?
“Hey, Sylv.” Erik’s voice rang out, as if he had been with them the entire time and hadn’t just snuck past him and the rest of their group. In the cunning boy’s hand was the coin purse Princess Jade had given to Sylvando practically moments ago. He cursed himself… he would’ve been none the wiser if Erik wasn’t prone to gloating. “This is new. Whatcha got here?”
“Okay, okay, cariño, give it back,” Sylvando held out his hand, impatiently, “if you little chatty kitties would just let me get a word in for once, I can explain everything.”
The years had certainly changed Erik. When Sylvando had first met him, he was just a tiny thing; scrawny and hungry, but eager to prove himself when presented with a second lease on life. My little porcupine was the pet name given to him. Small and cute (whether Erik agreed to that or not) with an edge. Several edges, actually, from every facet.
Being something of an adopted son to Sylvando afforded him a few luxuries. For instance, normally when one stole from Lady Bombastic, they didn’t get away with it without at least losing a finger or two. But Erik had perfected his craft since the first time he had tried stealing from his Mama, and a part of Sylvando couldn’t help but feel decidedly prideful.
“Explain why you were carrying around a fat sack like this without even…” Erik paused once he opened the purse, dumbstruck at what he found inside, “Sylv… holy shit…”
Sylvando swiped the purse back. “Language, mijo, or I’ll wash that mouth out with soap and seawater,” he scolded, before turning to address the others as well, “As I was trying to say, Princess Jade has given us a job. One she was nice enough to pay for upfront.”
“And just how many people does this princess girlie want you to kill?” Dave asked exasperated and a tad fearful. He had since taken the coin purse (Sylvando had allowed it) and now fingered through its contents, holding out a gold coin for inspection. One side was emblazoned with a two headed eagle; the symbol of Heliodor. “There’s gotta be at least half a million in here, Sylv!”
Above the gasps and exclamations of his crew, Sylvando thought it mindful to correct their assumptions. “No killing, Davie dear. I know you’re too pretty to get your hands dirty like that. This one is a little unconventional. Rather, la princesa wants us too…” He waved his hand, thinking of the best words to spin his next phrase, “Escort her fiancé… onto our boat?”
“Escort her where?” Meena asked.
“Just… oh, you know? Away from her? Forever?” He realized that sounded conspicuously like murder after all, and Sylvando quickly added “But only for a month!”
“Well if Princess Jade is so eager to toss away her fiancee,” Angelo brought an arm across his chest, as if already bowing to an imaginary damsel, “I will gladly volunteer myself to keep the other heartbroken princess company.”
“That’s very nice of you Angie darling,” Sylvando was pleased, knowing what would happen next, “But I should disclose that Prins Hendrik is a man, or so I’ve been told.”
Angelo paled, and his posture immediately straightened. “But I thought you said… Oh, I see. Then let Erik handle the prince. I have better things to do with my time, you know.”
“What?!” Erik whined at the suggestion.
“Enough, enough! As sweet as it is that both of you boys are so eager to help, that won’t be necessary!” Sarcasm laced Sylvando’s words. “The care and keeping of Prins Hendrik is a responsibility that goes to yours truly, but I will need your kindly assistance in bringing him here. It just so happens that the Princess of Heliodor is throwing a party two nights from now, one that the prince and us all are invited to.”
Maya crossed her arms, looking no more pleased than the rest of them. “And just what will you have us do? You know that I don’t dance for free!”
Sylvando sighed deeply. These children… what did he even pay them for? He feigned hurt, “Maya, Maya, how many times have I told you all not to underestimate your mama, hmm? The Lady always takes care of her chickadees… as whiney as they are.” That last bit was uttered under his breath. “The coin Princess Jade has given me is just a wee taste of the full payment. The other half will be in Zwaardsrust; at the Slagveld, when our deeds are done. Take about a quarter of that out for supplies, maintenance, and divide the rest by each of us? You get… Angie, what do we get?”
“One hundred and twenty five thousand gold, each.” Angelo replied.
Maya almost dropped to the floor but instead hugged Sylvando tightly around the shoulders and sprinkled small kisses upon his cheeks. “Arey! Sylvie… Mami… have I ever mentioned how much I love you? Because I do! I really, really do!”
“You could stand to bring it up a little more often. It warms my old heart to hear such things.” Sylvando smiled at them all, “So, I trust that everyone is in?”
A chorus of approvals filled his ears. The voices of Dave and all of his crew cheered, except of course for Meena, who stood ambivalently to the side despite even her sister’s prodding and enthusiasm.
“I will do everything in my power to help, of course,” Meena started, “But the cards warn me; we’re all probably going to die. Are you certain this is what you want to do?”
“I’m afraid that’s the path we’ve chosen, my dear. Life as a hired sword is one that can be snuffed out at any moment,” Sylvando stroked her hair before calmly booping her nose with the tip of his finger. “We’ll just have to do our best. Don’t let me down, eh?”
She smiled at him, prettily yet half heartedly. That would do, he thought, for now.
”I just hope you know what you’re doing, ma,” Erik added pensively.
“Mama always knows best, little porcupine. If that’s settled,” Sylvando turned and flourished, pointing to his dear old friend. “Dave! I’ll need your help picking out a dress! I want to look my best for the prince, after all.”
——✿❀✿——
Prins Hendrik, a plant named in honor of the consort of Koningin Begonia, the first queen of Zwaardsrust. Though Hendrik was never a true prince of Zwaardsrust, having succumbed to war before his time, the flower named for him bears an elegant yet strong posture. Tall, gallant, with wide purple petals that gradually open into a star shape upon full bloom. Indeed, such a gesture would have made any knight into a king. And with his valor, Hendrik left behind a heroic legacy that would not soon be forgotten by any true blooded Drustian.
The flower has since become scarcer and elusive still in more recent times; not often coveted or planted anywhere in Zwaardsrust aside from the Slagveld. But for any adventurer who has been blessed enough to see the flower, especially to bask in the radiance of a completed bloom, it is quite the sight to behold.
Excerpt on Prins Hendrik, Drustian Flower Society
x
It had been months since his last trip to Heliodor. Hendrik should have been delighted, joyful, at the thought of returning to what had been a second home to him for practically his entire life. But a heaviness had seated itself deeply into the pit of his stomach, and weighed him down even now as he sat upon the back of his beloved Obsidian.
In just a weeks time, he would be married.
Hendrik did not think himself capable of love, and knew he would not be marrying for such a thing in all of his days yet to come. His wife to be, stubborn, hard-headed Jade, who he bore all manners of affection toward except those that should be provided by a husband, had made her lack of sentiment towards him known. And had done so far before Hendrik had himself accepted that he, too, did not love her in such a way, and she spoke of it openly even now. Everyone knew, actually, how much she opposed her own wedding, but that didn’t matter. No, there was a grander picture to be painted in time; it didn’t matter what Jade felt, or what Hendrik felt, or didn’t feel, so he decided simply not to. No feelings, no issue, no concern of his, not regarding this matter. He would be what was required, and nothing more.
It was all easier said than done, and he fought away the nerves even now, when the dawn of his new life was fast approaching. Like a small flame, almost ready to burn his finger tips before engulfing him.
If he were to do this for anyone, it would not be for himself. But rather his father: Koning Larkspur, the King of Zwaardsrust, who lay now on his death bed, unable to even attend the wedding of his only son.
Even now, Hendrik’s actions had been irremissible when faced with the death of his elder sister, Koningin Amaranth, shortly after her succession to the throne. At her untimely demise and with their father’s ailing health, Hendrik had to reconcile with the reality of being the next heir of Zwaardsrust; a possibility he never needed to consider, with the land already having had a more capable heir in Amaranth, who had been first in line. But that was no more, and he instead chose to flee, to explore Erdrea, to fight, anything to steer himself away from his true responsibilities.
The time for that had certainly ended, as did Hendrik’s objections to his marriage, at the insistence of his father, with the news of his progressively worsening health finally reaching Hendrik while on campaign. Koning Larkspur did not have much time left, that time shortened further at having to again ascend the throne. Security in the arms of a kingdom like Heliodor did not often come so willingly. It would be a fair match, he said, for his son and for their country, in their time of great weakness. At the start of his journey to Heliodor, Hendrik knew that would likely be the last time he ever again saw his father among the living.
Arriving at the inner gates leading to the entrance of Heliodor Castle, a voice jerked Hendrik away from his thoughts.
“What is this nonsense? It seems they will allow anyone into the castle these days.” The voice held a sharp edge, and their yellow eyes, the color of warm honey, bore into Hendrik in what could only be scrutiny.
“Who dares speak to me in such a way?” Hendrik’s own voice rang out, piercing and authoritative. His retainer, Kiryl, stood next to the prince nervously and upon the back of his own steed.
“You have brought a fresh face. Here I thought Don Rodrigo would want to guard his finest charge as the eve of his wedding fast approaches,” they ignored Hendrik’s question, and instead added, “It is certainly odd not to see him watchful at your side.”
Hendrik swung his legs over Obsidian’s saddle, seemingly indignant and ready to strike. In front, was none other than the general of Heliodor, and advisor to the crown. Hendrik’s oldest friend.
“Jasper, you scoundrel,” he called out, storming over towards the onlooker. His booming voice took a lighter tone, laden with the hint of laughter trickling at the edge of his lips. “It has been far too long, let me take a look at you.”
“Indeed it has, my old friend,” Jasper stared up at the prince, his eyes still piercing, but their edges crinkled with a smile.
Hendrik held the other man by the shoulders, an arm's length away in self-restraint, and shook him in good nature. To hold Jasper close, here at least, would seem too eager, too unbecoming. But his heart had ached for him far before his return, and Hendrik longed to see a familiar, comforting face; one that could only be discovered in the man standing in front of him.
“As for Don Rodrigo, he could not escort me here at this time.” Hendrik spoke of his usual retainer, and his mentor since childhood. Despite his guard’s protest, Hendrik had insisted that Rodrigo remain by his father’s bedside, should the time come. “He had other business to attend to…” his words stiffened, “He…”
“Your father?” Jasper began the words Hendrik struggled to place. “I am sorry, my…”
“Y-yes,” Hendrik shook. His voice had suddenly become excruciatingly loud, as it was before when he spoke next. All trepidation wiped away. “Let us not speak of this sadness. Kiryl will handle the horses. I leave myself in your more than capable hands for the time being. Come with me, would you?”
It was spoken as an order, like any other. But still Jasper searched his face for an understanding, and eventually found it in Hendrik’s pleading expression.
“Very well,” he said, “Your Highness.”
It did not take long for them to find a room, one where they could, at last, be alone together. And no sooner had the door been locked behind them were Hendrik’s lips placed upon Jasper’s, in a desperate, all-consuming fervor of a kiss.
When Hendrik pulled back, Jasper grasped gently at the back of his head and lowered Hendrik closer to him yet again. With his mouth alone, he claimed the prince so fiercely that it sent pulsations and waves of lust surging through them both.
Hendrik gasped a little at the other’s newfound strength, yet kissed Jasper deeper. Oh, how he ached for so much more in that moment. He wanted to have Jasper inside of him, underneath him, writhing in pleasure and excitement. He wanted to forget everything that had happened since last being with him, alone like this, and everything that was about to happen… but what he wanted simply could not be.
“Goddess…” Hendrik breathed out, his head heavy. “I can’t…”
“You can,” Jasper replied softly, readily, hands upon him and awaiting his permission to continue.
He could not. So Hendrik pulled away, frustrated with himself for denying his friend when he had been the one to initiate in the first place. Instead, he found himself seeking out Jasper’s eyes for empathy and forgiveness. To his endless relief, they had resided there since the beginning.
——✿❀✿——
After speaking with Lady Bombastic and securing his services, Jade made quick work in returning home from downtown Heliodor under the dark cover of disguise and night. No one had even realized she had been missing, except for Serena of course, and one other.
“My daughter arrives in the thick of midnight,” King Carnelian’s voice trailed as his daughter approached him, back turned, “How inconspicuous. I pray she is not plotting to embarrass her father yet again.”
Jade slanted her eyes, gaze focused. Of course, he would have something to say regarding her activities, anything that would get her to bite the metaphorical bait, but he always suddenly became quiet when it came to matters of the heart. He was honestly worse than Hendrik. Jade understood not what the difference was between her and her father, and challenged him again, “My marriage approaches... Tell me, father, does it bring back memories? To when you married mother? Did you love her?”
She knew that above all else, that Carnelian loved her mother. The late queen had passed right after the birth of their only daughter, and the king mourned her loss even now. It was a tender subject.
“Jade,” her father began, already angered and out of his seat as he was every time she asked him that same question, “It does not matter what I felt for her.”
“But you did feel for her!” she argued, resolute and neither of them willing to back down, “More than that! You loved her.”
“That changes nothing,” said Carnelian.
Jade had allowed herself one more chance to raise up her hopes, to think that somehow she could at last get through to her father. But he was stubborn as stone, impenetrable; like her in all ways as much as she hated to admit it. Yes, they were both stubborn, determined, and, whether her father liked it or not, they would both marry for love.
Pleased and enraged at the same time, hidden underneath a quietly brewing storm, Jade backed down. “Indeed it doesn’t,” she said, finally, and turned her back to her father for what would be the last time, “Nothing changes. But that was the answer I needed. I hope you’ll be pleased; knowing that in securing a son, you have lost a daughter.”
With everything to gain, finally within her reach, there was no time left to lose.