The Naive Prince and Inscrutable Merchant

by EchoTheOwl

Summary:

Aventurine is a well known merchant in some not so well known circles, and Sunday is the crown prince who is crumbling under the stress of impossible standards. When his guard makes an offhanded suggestion on how to deal with such stresses, he decides to give Aventurine's products a try.

Down Bad Service Top Sunday x Occasionally Self-Destructive Power Bottom Aventurine, featuring supportive twin sister Robin, chill old man Gallagher, and 'why do you two keep dragging me into your nonsense' Dr. Ratio.

Notes:

I admittedly don't know much about the historical accuracy of sex toys but hey, it is what it is. Also, characters may be somewhat OOC due to the nature of the AU. I don't entirely know what all I plan to do with this story, so more tags will be added as it's written.

Chapter 1

“Have you considered… an alternative method for letting off some steam, your highness?” Gallagher quietly suggested as he helped Sunday up off the library floor.

It wasn’t the first time he’d come in to find him passed out amongst piles of books, though being on the floor was new. Sunday had a habit of burying himself in studies whenever he was stressed, as if studying of all things would relieve his woes. He was known to hold himself to impossible standards, even considering what was expected of the crown prince. Gallagher could only guess what had led the prince to once again lock himself in the library this time. Was it the scolding he received from the king the day before? Or perhaps was it the stresses of planning the upcoming festival? Perhaps it was something even the prince’s assigned guard knew nothing about.

“And what exactly would that be?”

“Well… if you’ll forgive a bit of impropriety… most people relax with the help of a bit of company. Given your status you could easily-”

“Are you suggesting I hire a courtesan to warm my bedchambers?”

“As if anyone would bat an eye at such a thing. It’s rather expected you know, especially for a man of your age-”

“Shut your mouth this instant,” Sunday huffed, fixing his cuffs.

“If not a courtesan, I have heard rumors of a particular merchant who-”

“Did I not tell you to quiet?”

“Apparently, he sells toys of pleasure. Something to consider, if you’re so against the company of another person.”

“Sir Gallagher… Silence. I will not ask again.”

While the conversation ended there, the suggestion lingered in the back of the prince’s mind as he suffered through yet another sleepless night. He knew not the time, though the moon was still high in the sky as he left his bed and drew aside the curtains to view the night sky. A seller of pleasure toys… He’d heard of such a thing before. Merchants who sold all manner of wares, both to aid couples and help those without a partner… enjoy themselves. He let out a sigh, cracking open the window and allowing the night breeze to cool his overwarm skin.

Gallagher was well known for his somewhat crass nature. He was a soldier above all else and rarely abided by the rules of etiquette expected of a knight, and yet, Sunday kept him by his side all the same, perhaps even for those very reasons. It was somewhat refreshing, at times, and his suggestions weren’t always unthinkable. It wormed his way into his brain, the thought of some… assistance. Of course, hiring a courtesan was out of the question. If such a thing was discovered, it would be nothing more than a stain on his pristine image. He could not sully himself, especially not when he was at the age where it was time for him to start seeking an engagement. He’d already avoided such a thing for too long.

It was the very thing his king father had berated him for just the other day. He’d declined an invitation from the newly crowned queen of Lushaka. He’d given the excuse that the queen was ten years older, and that Penacony’s relationship with the kingdom of Lushaka was already favorable, so a marriage of alliance was unnecessary. Of course, that led to the repeated mentioning of the tenuous peace with Melustanin, until Robin had graciously redirected the conversation to the upcoming Charmony Festival and the suggestion that she perform for its opening.

“The pleasure merchant,” Sunday spoke in hushed tones as he and Gallagher watched new recruits training in the field. “Could you find their shop location for me?”

“Easily. I didn’t think you’d actually consider such a thing,” he snorted.

“It is merely… curiosity. Needless to say that you should not mention a word of this to anyone, should you value the location of your tongue within your mouth.”

“Hey now. No need for threats, your highness. I’ll be discreet.”

“Good.”

The next day he was given a scrap of parchment with directions, handed off unseen by anyone else as he ate his breakfast. He stared at the paper in the privacy in his room, debating with himself if he could really debase himself to the level of seeking out a pleasure merchant. A knock on his door interrupted his silent contemplation and he crumpled the directions to hide them in his pocket.

“Brother? Are you occupied at current?”

He opened the door to see Robin waiting patiently, quirking her head to the side at his lack of answer. He gestured to invite her inside, but she stayed, furrowed brows indicating her confusion.

“I am free for the moment. Merely… thinking.”

“Oh? Thinking of what?” she smiled gently as she finally stepped inside.

“Something Gallagher suggested to me. It seems a foolish idea and yet I cannot get myself to dismiss it.”

“Hm… It’s unlike you to speak so vaguely. Whatever could it be?”

“Something… unseemly.”

“Brother… I mean this in the gentlest way, but you consider many things unseemly that simply are not so. Is Sir Gallagher’s suggestion really improper, or is this yet another case of you being unfair to yourself?”

“I am not-” he swallowed. Unlike him, his sister had never been one to cave under the expectations of their position. He let out a quiet sigh, resigning himself to what he knew would end in unceasing questions if he continued to dodge the subject. “He recommended visiting a particular merchant, to potentially aid with certain… pressures I have been feeling of late.”

“Ah, I think I understand. I admit I am surprised you have not dismissed the idea.”

“I have tried, and yet… I acquired the shop’s address anyway. I do not know what to do with it.”

“Sunday, I don’t think it will hurt you just to look, no?”

“You cannot be serious. The mere sight of the crown prince walking into such a establishment… It is unthinkable.”

“Perhaps the crown prince need not be the one seen,” she chuckled. “Dearest brother, do you forget how we used to disguise ourselves as children, to roam the market and splurge at the bakery?”

“I have not forgotten, of course.”

“Would you like my assistance?”

“I would not dare ask you-”

“Hush. I, for one, think Gallagher has left you with a worthwhile idea. It does you no good to stifle yourself, try as you may. Let me grab some suitable clothes.”

“Robin-”

She was gone before he could stop her. He fell into a chair, covering his face. He felt warm with embarrassment. His very sister knowing he was considering seeking out such a ‘release’ was mortifying. Her support, while heartwarming as usual, was also leaving him feeling shameful. He never should have taken Gallagher's downright tasteless recommendation seriously. Yet, when she returned with a much simpler outfit that would not stand out in a crowd of other Penaconian citizens, he did not stop her from helping him dress.

With his halo concealed, his ear wings and silver hair hidden by a hood, and a mask covering the lower half of his face, plus subtle eye makeup that made him look remarkably different than normal, he left the castle entirely unnoticed, and walked through the market with nary a second glance directed his way. He followed Gallagher’s directions to an unassuming shopfront. The small building had no windows, and a sign on the door instructed him to knock for service. He looked warily at the people around him, no one paying any attention as he tapped on the plain wooden door.

His nerves only grew as his knocking was met without reaction. He couldn’t hear anything from inside, at least not over the bustling of the market around him. Yet, as creeping shame nearly convinced him to turn away, the door cracked open and a young man peeked out to regard him. Given the way he was leaning against the door frame, it was difficult to estimate his height, but he seemed around the same as Sunday, perhaps a bit shorter. He had blonde hair that reached just to his shoulders and framed his smooth, sharp features pleasantly. His eyes were what really caught the prince’s attention. Pink and blue ringed irises circling angular pupils, eyes said only to belong to the rarest residents of distant Sigonia.

“Are you coming in, or not?” the man asked, having opened the door to welcome him in some moments ago. Sunday cleared his throat as he nodded and ducked through the doorway. “Anything in particular you’re seeking, your highness?”

“Ex- Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry. Was that disguise really supposed to fool me?”

“I should be going.”

“You’re already here, might as well get what you came for,” the merchant sighed. “Besides, others aren’t as observant as I am. I doubt anyone but me would recognize you.”

“And how have you recognized me, then? I am certain we have not met before.”

“Ha! You’re the handsomest man in all of Penacony. The exalted crown prince. How could I possibly not know what you look like? Seeing as you took such efforts to conceal yourself, I did you the service of greeting you as I would any other customer. I do hope you’ll forgive the rudeness at the door. That aside, what did you come here for? I can assure you of the quality of the products here.”

“I- I am… I honestly do not know,” he admitted after a moment’s hesitance. “I’ve never… perused an establishment of this sort. I know not what products to expect.”

“No?”

His eyes scanned the shelves displaying all manner of toys. Sculpted phalluses, a variety of bindings and what looked like tools for punishment, as well as many things he couldn’t even guess the purpose of. Even though he’d given in to the idea to come here, he couldn’t even begin to think of what he actually expected to purchase. This truly had been an abysmal idea.

“A… friend had suggested I purchase something to help me… relieve some undue stress. Admittedly, I know not what precisely he was recommending.”

“I… see…” the merchant hummed, massaging his neck as he regarded Sunday. “Well, I could make some recommendations of course, but I’d have to ask some questions to properly do so.”

“If you can assure me of your discretion, I will allow you to ask,” Sunday relented with a quiet sigh.

“Of course. I make a point not to share any information about my clients. It’s precisely why I only allow one customer in the store at a time.”

“Ah, is that why I had to knock?”

“Yeah, it is. Well, your highness, it sounds like you don’t have any experience with toys. It also sounds like you’ve no partner you’re hoping to use one with, so… you’re seeking a masturbatory toy? There is a wide range of products for anal play, though I’ll admit you don’t seem the type.”

“Pardon?”

“No offense meant, your highness. You should start with something smaller. I have a few that are intended for beginners. Let’s see here-”

“What do you mean by anal play?”

The merchant paused, his hand freezing midair where it had been reaching for one of the phalluses on the shelf. Sunday watched his hand drop as the merchant turned and leveled him with a stunned expression. He looked genuinely caught off guard and the prince nearly rescinded the query.

“Okay, you meant it when you said you didn’t know what your friend was suggesting, then,” he sighed, schooling his face into a more neutral expression. “Let me ask you, your highness. How do you pleasure yourself normally?”

“I… do not.”

“You… do not… Right.”

“It would be inappropriate for a prince to-”

“Forgive the interruption but why are you here? You do know what this place is, don’t you?”

“I… I do.”

“Okay… You really expect me to believe you’ve never touched yourself?”

“I… would not say I have never done so. It is… unbecoming of me. An act I tend to avoid.”

“No wonder you’re so high-strung,” the merchant muttered, not intending for Sunday to hear it. “Well… fine. Men can receive pleasure from penetration just as women can. That is anal play. However, if it’s not something you’ve tried before or ever been curious about, I can recommend a sleeve, meant to be a bit more pleasurable than merely your hand wrapped around your prick. Ah, forgive the coarse language, your highness.”

“It is expected and forgiven.”

“So a sleeve would run you fifty alfalfa and a bottle of lubricant, highly recommended, would be six alfalfa. Anything else you need? I won’t charge you for the wrapping.”

“N-No. Not at all. That will be all, good sir.”

“Right. Give me a moment and I’ll get it ready for you.”

After handing over the required alfalfa the merchant quietly packed his purchase into a small box and wrapped the box in parchment and string. The resulting bundle looked like any other purchase he would return with, which he was admittedly thankful for. The parcel was placed on the counter for him to take, but as soon as he reached for it, the merchant placed his hand on top to stop him.

“I make deliveries, as well. Not saying you will, but if you do wish to purchase again in the future, you can send a letter, and I can bring it to you. No need for disguises. I make deliveries for other goods as well, so your discretion would not be compromised by my appearance at the castle.”

“Ah, I see… I shall… keep that in mind.”

“Well, if you should wish it. My name is Aventurine. That’s who you would address the letter to. I’m a member of the IPC guild, of course.”

“Aventurine. I… thank you…”

“Have fun with that.”

“Ah… Yes… Um…”

“Goodbye.”

It was so matter of fact, the way the merchant- Aventurine- gently guided him to the door of the shop and bid him to leave. He was stuck with the subtle rudeness of the short ‘goodbye’ as the door closed behind him. He should have been thankful, being freed from his hesitant shame, but instead he felt a burning irritation heating his face beneath his mask. He’d been so muddled with nerves that he’d scarcely noticed Aventurine’s hidden impatience and disguised judgement at Sunday’s evident inexperience. Rather than pricking him with humiliation, he felt a mounting indignation.

Still, there was no sense in acting on it. He tucked his purchase under his arm, and made his way back up to the castle. He could judge Aventurine by the quality of his recommendation, seeing as his service left something to be desired. At the very least, he did trust his promises of confidentiality. He was sure the very nature of his products left him himself somewhat ashamed, despite being a merchant who likely chose such a ware.

It wasn’t until late evening, long past the time that candles had been snuffed that he unpacked the parcel he’d hidden in a lower drawer of his wardrobe. He inspected the ‘sleeve’ he’d purchased. The outside was made of a dark wood, polished and shaped to fit comfortably in his hand. It made a hollow tube, the inside of which was lined with stuffed leather, treated with some kind of oil to feel remarkably smooth, even when dry. Sliding his fingers through it told him exactly how it was intended to be used, even if Aventurine’s quick description hadn’t already given him an idea.

He eyed the bottle that was also packed in the box. A medium sized vial of clear glass, filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Lubrication. He uncorked the bottle and took a quick sniff. It smelled unassuming, and dipping in a single finger revealed the cool liquid was… nothing more than a simple oil mixture.

He glanced back at his door, already locked, not that anyone would enter his chambers without permission no matter what time of day it was. He sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t seriously be considering this, could he? He could already feel his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. He swallowed, a trembling hand sneaking past the waistband of his trousers. He hissed, his fingers cold against the warm skin of his groin.

His member twitched with interest as he hesitantly wrapped his hand around the soft flesh. His other hand tugged down the fabric covering his lower half, the chilly night air not unwelcome against his steadily heating skin. He bit down on his lower lip, muting a groan that threatened to leave his throat as he hardened against his own grip. He closed his eyes, tightening his grip as he slowly moved his hand along the length of his prick.

He forced himself to take deep, steady breaths. He rubbed his thumb over the head of his member, a quiet shuddering moan being muffled by his tightly closed mouth. He hadn’t done this in so long, believing wholeheartedly that such an act was depraved, and yet, it felt good. As his eyes peeked open, he saw the sleeve sitting patiently next to him, the dark wood standing out in comparison to the light blue hue of his covers. He used two fingers to gather a bit of the lubricant, rubbing the oil to coat the interior of the toy.

He paused as he lined the opening of the toy with the head of his length. He couldn’t stop his groan as he slid into the toy. It squeezed him much tighter than he would have with his hand and the lubrication gave it a wet sensation notably different from the feeling of his hand. He paused, his body shaking as he willed himself to drag the toy off, and then back onto his length. It was… remarkably different than expected. He hadn’t quite believed that the toy would really be that much better than merely touching himself, but the way it squeezed and clung to him was intoxicating.

It was an almost embarrassingly short amount of time before he choked around a stuttered cry, sullying the toy's interior with his fluids. He flung it off him to clatter on the ground, gripping his covers in his fists as he struggled to calm himself. It took longer than he liked before his breathing steadied, but he still felt unbearably warm. The worst part was the image that he thought of just before reaching his release.

Ringed irises, staring at him in wary disbelief. Blonde hair framing smooth skin. That damned merchant.

Chapter 2

Blunt nails tapped unceasingly against the polished surface of an intricately carved mahogany desk where Sunday sat alone in his chamber. The unfurled parchment in front of him sat ignored as his mind wandered, his eyes refusing to decipher the words begging his attention. Instead, he thought of the Sigonian merchant, Aventurine. He wondered why the young man had chosen to sell toys of pleasure, and how he’d had success in such an unspeakable business. He also wondered how someone from such a distant kingdom such as Sigonia had ended up in Penacony in the first place, among other things. What concerned him the most was that such questions pestered him at all, curiosities about a man he’d so briefly encountered.

Admittedly, Aventurine was objectively beautiful, and his trade was curious, and yet it made no sense to wonder about him so. Sunday had met countless beautiful lords and ladies, and others with unusual proclivities who had made no effort to hide them, and yet his thoughts rarely lingered on such persons. How was Aventurine plaguing his mind still, two whole weeks after their meeting?

He hadn’t even used the toy beyond that first night. It was almost frightening, just how quickly the toy had brought him to fruition. Rather than saying he’d had no desire to use it again, it was more accurate that he was concerned about what kind of habits he was falling into. He let out a groan as he noticed the angle of the shadow falling over his desk, indicating just how long he’d been sat there unproductively lost in thoughts about his own depravity.

Against his better judgement, he set aside the document and smoothed a blank sheet of parchment in front of him, inking a quill and quickly scratching out a tidy greeting. The written words flowed with wondrous ease, until Sunday was left allowing the black ink to dry, rereading the letter with bubbling shame.

 

Respected Aventurine,

I would first like to commend you for the quality of my previous purchase. I am reaching out with a query regarding its maintenance. I was not provided with instructions on how to clean the product’s interior after its use. I assume the oil you recommended for purchase is not harmful to its integrity, but I am curious about other potential spillage it may be contaminated with. Given the tight enclosure of the interior, I am also unsure of the appropriate method of cleaning.

I will enclose the appropriate payment for another bottle of oil, though I am still stocked from my previous purchase. Perhaps you could provide the requested instructions alongside the delivery of the oil. If further payment, for either the delivery or expertise is required, it will be provided upon your arrival.

Signed, your silver-haired customer of two weeks past.

 

Before he could think better of it, he folded and sealed the letter and had it sent off to Aventurine of the IPC guild. He forced himself to focus on the purchase orders for the Charmony Festival, seeing as the king had put him in charge of the upcoming festivities. His normally strict attention still strayed, though less so now that the letter was sent. He wasn’t entirely certain what exactly he was hoping for, sending such a thing, but he hoped at minimum it would help to shove the merchant out of his mind.

It hadn’t worked even a little, but three long days later he was caught off guard by the announcement of a visitor with a delivery requesting to meet him in his chambers. Belated recollection of the sent letter reddened his face as he gave his assent to the servant’s request. A moment later, the blonde Sigonian was quietly stepping past the threshold, pushing the door closed behind him. In his hand was a small, parchment-wrapped parcel. Colorful eyes regarded him with a tired glare, not bothering to hide the merchant’s annoyance.

“Ah, I-”

“Let me apologize first for the offense my words are likely to cause, your highness, but respectfully… what are you doing?”

“Pardon?”

“Firstly, your letter. My ‘silver haired customer of two weeks past’ ought to have considered that not signing his name is pointless when the letter itself bears the Oak family seal. Also, in order for me to make a delivery, I would normally need to know where I am delivering to. Being cagey about your identity in an already inconspicuous letter is, frankly, inane,” Aventurine sighed as he approached the desk, setting the small box where there were no documents on its surface.

“My apologies. I-”

“Secondly, someone who clearly has not even used his previous purchase surely must see there is no sense in ordering additional lubricant. It is a waste of your money, and my time. Of course, I doubt your highness is hurting for funds, but my time is not so expendable.”

“I meant no-”

“Thirdly, it’s worth your knowing that this lubricant does not last forever. It certainly takes some time for it to spoil, but given you’ve gone two weeks without using any, I am very sure that your existing stock will spoil before being used up, making it even more absurd for you to order another bottle.”

“Um-”

“Finally, if you genuinely just wanted instruction, you could have requested such in a return letter, rather than making me come all the way out here for delivery. Or, did you need that instruction provided in person. Is the crown prince a visual learner, perhaps? I’d imagine, with the way you’re reputed for surrounding yourself in tomes that this is not the case, and yet here I am.”

At the end of his rant, Aventurine shoved the small box forward on the desk, its wrapping tearing in the process. Sunday felt himself locked by the irate gaze of the merchant challenging him. There was a nagging at the back of his mind, telling him he should be endlessly offended by Aventurine’s sharp tongue and improper treatment of someone of his station, and yet…

It only served to make him further intrigued. All his life Sunday had been met with nothing but veneration from anyone outside of his immediate family. Gallagher was one of very few who occasionally let his behavior edge on the inappropriate, but even he firmly retained the necessary level of respect to not cross any lines. Aventurine however had gone so far as to watch with disdain as he stepped over such a barrier with a frightening confidence.

“I have in fact made use of my purchase,” Sunday corrected quietly, as he regained his calm composure. “It is for that very reason that I needed to inquire about its cleaning. I did of course rinse it with water, but I was uncertain if that would suffice.”

Aventurine cocked an eyebrow, seemingly in disbelief that the prince had actually done such a thing. He himself of course could hardly bring himself to think of it, but as a merchant of such wares, his skepticism seemed insulting. He looked upon Sunday with an expression of exhaustion, a quiet sigh parting his lips as he shook his head.

“Do you require a demonstration? I still say I could have provided such in a simple correspondence.”

“A… demonstration…” Sunday repeated quietly, eyes glancing toward his wardrobe where the toy had since been stowed. “Perhaps that would be helpful, yes.”

The merchant took a deep breath, closing his vibrant eyes as he did so. It was a clear indication of him reining in his impatience. His voice, at first bleeding with subtle irritation, was now calm and business-like, as if he’d swallowed all emotion to make way for his previously missing propriety. He gestured silently for Sunday to retrieve the toy, obviously having noticed the direction of his glance given the way his hands aimed toward the wardrobe.

The toy was placed gingerly in Aventurine’s gloved hands, and it was only once the merchant took a step back, using his teeth to pull the glove off his right hand, that Sunday felt a bit sheepish at what he’d just handed him. Aventurine glanced around the room, spotting the door to his washroom and clearly intending to retrieve water from the basin there. The man moved without any of the hesitance that others normally had when attending to his chambers, returning shortly with a visibly damp washrag.

“I shall only be doing this once, so do pay attention, your highness,” he spoke.

Two of his long fingers pushed the rag into the toy as Sunday watched intently. Something about the way Aventurine’s hand moved with practiced ease made his breath feel short. He could see how his fingers spread as he turned his wrist, dragging the cloth back out again with his fingers curled upward. Sunday’s mouth felt dry, and he swallowed as his eyes trailed from the toy to Aventurine’s face. Hypnotizing eyes were half lidded as they aimed downward to watch his own movements, not noticing the prince’s gaze.

“Water and a small amount of non-caustic soap will do just fine. You may have to run the cloth through a couple times to be sure, but the leather is already coated such that it shouldn’t be damaged or stained. It seems you already did a sufficient job of cleaning it, if it actually was used. You can also push the rag through entirely, then pull it from the other end, if such is easier or more effective for you,” he explained, offering the toy back to Sunday.

“I see. You have my thanks,” the prince hummed, face feeling warm.

“Is there anything else you need of me, or is this satisfactory?”

“No, that is… That is…”

The words stuck in his throat. The toy was still resting in Aventurine’s offered hand. He stared at it, the dark colored wood matching the dark leather of Aventurine’s glove. His other hand was still bare, the other glove having been stuck haphazardly in a pocket. The cleaning rag was held loosely in that hand, curled around two fingers. He heard the other sigh and watched his body move closer, slow steps approaching before setting the toy on the desk.

“Your highness… Did you really use this toy?”

“For what reason do you doubt that?”

“Perhaps it is the fact that you are flushed merely watching me clean it. I find it hard to believe that you- Ah, never mind. Look, normally I do not offer refunds, but I’m feeling generous. Since it’s clear this product is not to your preference-”

“Your assumption is incorrect. I have used the toy. Is it common practice for you to regard your customers with such disdain?”

“Disdain… is that what you think this is?” he laughed. “Yes, in fact. I’d say disdain is rather usual for me, but admittedly not in this instance. Rather, I regard you with pity.”

“Pity?”

“To think that the crown prince views himself with such piety that merely touching himself is something unworthy… Is that not pitiable? And yet you found yourself at my shop regardless, staring blankly at products like a struck child unknowing their misdeed,” Aventurine tutted, arrogance lighting his eyes. “Even beasts know how to relieve themselves, so when you stated you abstain I was admittedly doubtful, and yet looking at you now how can I do anything but believe the unbelievable?”

“Excuse me?”

“My apologies, your highness. I’ve spoken out of turn,” he bit, his tone sarcastic.

“I did not come to your shop due to an inability to relieve myself,” Sunday stated flatly, bitterness gnawing at him.

“No, of course. Merely an unwillingness to defile yourself. The products I sell are not a boundary to prevent such a thing, something you doubtlessly realized already. If anything, many would consider their use even more distasteful. I am offering you a favor. I will take back the toy and return your alfalfa, and you can keep yourself gleamingly pure. What say you, friend?”

“I have already stated that a return is not necessary. Perhaps you are the one requiring a demonstration,” Sunday scoffed, crossing his arms.

Aventurine’s eyes widened as they flicked down to where the sleeve had been placed. Pleasant pink spread across his cheeks, leading Sunday to realize the implication of what he’d impulsively suggested. A gloved hand came up, covering Aventurine’s face for a moment, falling down to reveal his expression once again unimpressed.

“Very well, if you insist. I have done what I came here for. I shall take my leave, your highness.”

“Wait. Aventurine-”

“Worry not. I’ll do you the service of not misinterpreting your statement. Surely given the lack of rumors that have sprouted in the past weeks, my discretion has already been proven?”

The door shut behind him before Sunday could even try to respond. He sat in his chair with a huff, leaning on the desk and hiding his face in his hands. He did not need to look down to tell he was aroused. From something so simple at that. What in the world was wrong with him? He peeked through his fingers, at the toy placed on his desk. Once again he thought of Aventurine’s long fingers, his hooded gaze.

He looked over at the small box the merchant had delivered, parchment already torn at the corners. To occupy himself, he took his time carefully untying the twine. Once it was fully unwrapped, he opened the lid and paused. Rather than containing a second bottle of lubrication, the box contained six alfalfa coins. The exact payment he’d provided with his letter. He let out a long sigh, taking the alfalfa from the box and letting the coins fall from his palm onto the desk with six consecutive clinks.

“Aventurine…” he mumbled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do you vex me so?”

His distraction over the next few days did not cease. Whether in meetings with merchants or council members, whether in the market overseeing festival preparations, whether reading or practicing archery or swordplay or eating a meal with his father and sister. No matter what he did and no matter how hard he tried not to think of it, his thoughts continually wandered to the perplexing merchant.

He’d not seen him even by chance, though he’d passed by his shop more than once on his increased visits to the marketplace. The Charmony Festival was less than a month away now, meaning he was out of the castle more often than not. While his wayward glances at the unassuming shopfront would go unnoticed by most, he was sure Gallagher was aware. The sly smile curling the guard’s lips told him such.

“Y’know, your highness, I’m sure I could direct the other’s attention elsewhere if you fancy yourself to make a purchase.”

“Such a thing is unnecessary and I would advise you to hold your tongue.”

“The fact that you keep looking over that way says otherwise. It’s not like you really need to watch over the construction of these stalls anyway.”

“This is a festival held only once every decade. Expectations are very high and it is my responsibility to ensure it goes perfectly,” he murmured.

“All the more reason for you to-”

He was cut off by a clatter as a worker knocked aside a pile of timber. It caused no harm and was attended to quickly, but Sunday still felt his heart pounding in his throat. Was it an omen? This was the first time the king had entrusted an event of such importance to him. He could not allow for things to go wrong. He had been far too distracted as of late, and it was bound to result in greater harm if he did not reign in his wayward thoughts.

Workers and passersby alike were focused on the disturbance rather than the crown prince overseeing the construction. He looked back over to the store. It wasn’t far. A few steps, and turning a corner to reach the shaded door. If Aventurine received him quickly, he’d be inside before anyone had even noticed he’d walked away. The temptation was profound, which told him precisely why it was a bad idea. He was becoming far too preoccupied with potential deviancy, and it was less to do with the merchant’s wares than the merchant himself.

As if summoned by the mere existence of Sunday’s thoughts, the blond Sigonian walked out from the sheltered entranceway. His eyes met Sunday’s stare as he glanced up, seemingly caught off guard by the prince’s presence. Sunday’s legs were carrying him forward before he had the forethought to consider what he was doing, approaching Aventurine in broad daylight, in a crowded market. His target did not flee, instead frozen still and watching warily as the prince came near.

“I have something to ask of you,” Sunday stated quietly as he stopped in front of Aventurine. No one else was near enough to hear his words, but he’d already noticed the eyes on them.

“Surely you don’t wish me to escort you into my shop, your highness? You’ve no disguise concealing yourself this morning.”

“Not at this moment. I am merely notifying you of my visit this evening, after dusk.”

“Right… I may have a rule of only attending one customer at a time, but that does not mean it’s necessary to make an appointment.”

“I simply wished to ensure you would be available at the time.”

“I see… Well… I’ll make sure to have fifty alfalfa ready for you.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve just decided my return policy lasts for three weeks after purchase. Tomorrow, I’m afraid I will no longer offer a refund. Now, if you’ll excuse me, your highness. I have somewhere to be.”

He stepped past the prince and Sunday was left watching his back as he went. Once again, Aventurine had managed to have the last word and saunter off, leaving him speechless. It was precisely why he served to occupy his thoughts so completely. He acted like no one else. Sunday wasn’t used to it. He desperately needed to regain the upper hand in their interactions, or he’d never be able to stop thinking about the infuriating merchant.

When an attendant approached, asking about what business the prince had with such a man, he gave a vague response. He was a merchant, after all. Who was to say he was not one of the many cooperating in the preparations for the festival? If he delivered wares other than those he sold in his shop, perhaps there was credence for the excuse. It was questioned no further, and his glare was enough for Gallagher’s knowing smirk to fall.

That evening, he took care in disguising himself. Looking at his half covered face in the mirror, he felt satisfied that no one would recognize him. Still, he took the effort to trail through lesser populated paths until he was knocking on the shop door, not far from the market center. It was just after dusk, as he’d promised. Aventurine opened the door for him after a short moment, and welcomed him inside without even a word. He slid off his hood and mask, seeing no need to conceal himself now inside.

“So, you’ve come to return the toy. I can’t say I’m surprised, really. It was more shocking that you actually bothered to purchase it at all.”

“That is not why I have come. I told you I had need to speak with you.”

Aventurine’s eyes ran over him, noting the lack of a parcel in his hands. Beyond quirking an eyebrow, he did not comment. He leant back against the counter, crossing his arms and legs both as he waited for Sunday to speak. Silence stretched between them while Sunday considered his words carefully. There were many offenses he wished to air, and yet, with the very source standing in front of him, he was struggling to sort through them.

“I take great offense at your assumption that I would return a purchase of which I have already provided compliments for. Did I not start my letter by commending its quality? You still hold such disbelief that I have made use of it?”

“Ha! My apologies for the offense then, your highness.”

“I dare say you have caused a great number of offenses in our few encounters. Your dismissiveness and careless words when speaking to your regent would not go unpunished if heard by anyone other than myself.”

“Then I suppose I should be glad that we’ve not spoken with company.”

“It is precisely comments such as that, that I-”

“You really came all the way here to scold me for… being discourteous? I’ve already offered my apologies. Alas, I’m out of practice dealing with royalty. In fact, our every meeting has been one of you seeking me out, so it seems an odd thing to take issue with, considering.”

“I- Yes, well… I would not have, except that…”

Sunday swallowed. If not for the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about him, for no conceivable reason. Aventurine waited patiently for the end of his excuse, but it never came. He’d come here with the intent to correct what felt like an imbalance, but the scale had only tipped further in Aventurine’s favor.

“Except that… what?” Aventurine prompted after a while.

“I… I have found myself… curious…”

The ever-prideful crown prince of Penacony, avoiding eye contact with cheeks flushed red. It was something Aventurine couldn’t quite get used to seeing, despite having witnessed it twice now. He imagined, if he’d not been wearing a mask at the time, that he would have looked the same the first time he’d entered this store. He’d dealt with all sorts of customers since he’d been placed in charge of this shop. It wasn’t unusual for customers to feel sheepish, but something about Sunday was excessively so.

He still couldn’t decide if he believed Sunday’s insistence that he’d used the toy he purchased. It certainly hadn’t seemed used when he’d shown him how to clean it. However, perhaps he had, and perhaps that was ultimately what brought him back to this store. He’d dipped his toes in carnal pleasure, and now he wished to explore a step further into brackish waters. It wouldn’t be the first time Aventurine had seen someone do exactly that.

“Very well. I shall attempt to adjust my behavior. Were you seeking another recommendation, or did you want to browse and see what caught your interest?”

“Pardon?”

“I am, of course, willing to answer any questions you may have about the products while you’re here, to avoid any further superfluous letters,” Aventurine stated with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He was uncertain whether he was thankful or annoyed by the merchant's misunderstanding of his curiosity. It was not the products he was left wondering about. Still, with a look around, he knew it would be a lie to say he was completely disinterested. Especially with the great number of products he could not even guess at the purpose of.

“I admit that I am not knowledgeable in this regard. Most of your products seem entirely foreign to me. I see myself a scholar of many avenues, but this is one I know near nothing about,” Sunday reasoned.

“I understand, of course. Few people know exactly what interests them until they’ve tried it. So, what are you seeking?”

“Rather than a product, I suppose I am seeking a teacher.”

Aventurine’s expression was that of surprise for no more than a second before he was narrowing his eyes and pushing himself off the counter. He did not walk nearer, eyeing Sunday up and down just once before looking off to the side with a scoff. The disgust was clear in his scowl, but the prince was left confused. What had he said to garner such a reaction?

“I should have known. For all his esteem, it seems the crown prince is truly no different from any other who finds their way into this store. I am no painted whore for you to purchase. The courtesan’s house is-”

“Just a moment,” Sunday hurriedly interrupted, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “That was not my intent. I apologize for the implication nonetheless.”

Aventurine seemed skeptical, to say the least, but the words had calmed him enough that he silenced to wait for Sunday’s explanation. The prince let out a quiet sigh, gathering his thoughts to not make a further fool of himself. To avoid Aventurine’s doubtlessly furious gaze, he looked over to one of the shelves lining the wall. He glanced back over at the other man for just a moment before stepping toward the shelf.

“What I had meant, was that devices such as these,” he started, gingerly handling a slim metal rod, “have a purpose that completely eludes me. I wondered if your expertise could extend to demonstrations of such that you graciously provided before.”

“That particular toy is likely one far beyond your comfort range,” Aventurine noted tiredly.

“Is it? I assumed this was a tool for the… anal play that you once mentioned.”

“Not quite. Look, I think I understand what you think you’re asking, your highness… but most of these cannot be demonstrated so innocently as when I instructed you on cleaning the sleeve. That rod, for example, I can only think of demonstrating by directly using it as intended. Unless you intend on disrobing for me…”

“I… I see…”

He set the rod back on the shelf, watching out of the corner of his eye as Aventurine brushed through his hair. While the ire caused by his previous statement had faded, it seemed the irritation the merchant frequently regarded him with was unceasing. Some part of him felt the need to petulantly prod at that impatience. His ever-present voice of reason was nowhere to be found, and so…

“I would be willing,” he said, swallowing his shame.

He needed, more than anything else, to exhaust his interest in this man. It was detrimental, in too many ways to count. Perhaps giving in to his curiosity was truly the only way to do so, as demeaning as it felt. Ignoring it had been fruitless, try as he had. Aventurine’s eyes widened, a stark contrast to his previous reaction.

“I- I’m sorry?”

“If you must demonstrate directly, then I would be willing. If such a suggestion is… unfavorable to you, you may forget its utterance. I do not mean to equate you to a courtesan.”

“So you do realize what you’re suggesting.”

“I do.”

“Ha… You really…”

His eyes glanced back at the rod placed neatly back on the shelf for a moment, evidently considering it. Once again, his gaze trailed over the prince slowly, before he was closing his eyes and gently massaging the lids with his thumbs. A low groan rumbled in his throat, sounding… defeated.

“Fine, but not that. Not… not tonight, at least. Trust me.”

“Of course. I am in your hands.”

Chapter 3

“Before we do this, I would like to set a few ground rules. Of course, you are welcome to your own, but I ask that you listen first,” Aventurine sighed, crossing his arms as he approached. “First, you may be the crown prince, but within these walls, I am in charge. No arguments. If this displeases you, we can stop here.”

“I… will accept that. This is your expertise, after all.”

Aventurine quirked an eyebrow. He’d honestly expected that first rule to be all it took for the prince to walk away. Yet, he stared back at him with a stubbornness he hadn’t expected. He let out a breath, breaking eye contact. He’d have never thought he would have to resort to these methods to frighten off the prince of all people. And yet, here he was, once again.

“Secondly, any product that I am to use for demonstration becomes a product I can no longer sell, for obvious reasons. Granted, if I were to advertise it as something used by the prince, I could charge a premium, but since that is not a viable option, you will have to purchase what is used. There are some exceptions, such as bondage tools that would not be considered contaminated with their use.”

“I understand.”

When he’d been propositioned in the past, that was the rule that almost always had customers changing their mind. Then again, most other customers didn’t have the near bottomless coffers of a literal member of the royal family. The only ones who did not flinch at the thought of payment for such an arrangement, were those with an excess of alfalfa to spare. He should have known Sunday would be no exception.

“Third, you are not to touch me in any way, at any time during these demonstrations. If you cannot control your reach, I will bind your hands to ensure it.”

“I understand,” Sunday repeated, leaving Aventurine feeling even more uneasy.

No one, no one , had ever remained after the third rule. It worked so perfectly, he’d given up on thinking of a fourth. Verbally he’d agreed, but still his gaze looked concerned. He couldn’t decipher what exactly that meant. Was the concern indicative of a desire he’d successfully thwarted, or something else entirely? Whatever the reason, he’d still agreed despite that concern.

“Fourth…” he hummed, pausing to actually think of another rule. “Fourth, seeing as this is a demonstration of a product, and I am a humble businessman, it is only prudent of me to fully showcase the quality of my wares. I cannot do so if you approach this with an unopen mind. You clearly regard yourself as a pious man. I am not. The very demonstrations you suggest will, by their very nature, defile you.”

He knew little more about the prince than his widespread reputation, but it seemed a reputation well earned. He was so strictly upright that even in disguise his posture had been so unmistakable that he’d recognized the prince almost immediately, that first day. The way his eyes hesitantly darted around the shop when they’d initially entered, the way he flushed at the mere handling of the sleeve in his chambers. He had made clear that his inexperience was one of choice, rather than a lack of opportunity. The fact that he was willing to forgo that precious pride surely meant that he wasn’t fully aware of what he was agreeing to. And yet, even after making it clear, he did not stray.

“I am well aware.”

“You sure you can live with that?” Aventurine scoffed.

“I have already made up my mind on this.”

Aventurine chewed on the inside of his cheek as he silently thought. He’d hoped that his conditions would be enough to turn the prince away, as they had always done before, but it hadn’t worked and he was out of ideas. Sunday was watching patiently, waiting for whatever else he may say or any other instruction he may give. He slipped his fingers under the high collar of his shirt, scratching idly at his neck.

“Very well. Return tomorrow evening, and bring the sleeve. We shall start with that, I suppose.”

“I do not think I need a demonstration for that particular toy.”

“You may insist you’ve enjoyed it, but I still have my reservations. If nothing else, I would rather start with something you have already purchased. I’ve no desire to bleed you for money.”

The look in Sunday’s eyes told him that he had something he wanted to say, some argument he wanted to make, but he chose not to voice it. He almost wished he’d just come out with it. If he wasn’t satisfied with how Aventurine had shifted their arrangement, he should say so and let them be done with the whole thing. He didn’t, so Aventurine turned away, hiding from his golden gaze. If the rules did not scare him off, then at least Aventurine was sure the act itself would quickly do so.

“Tomorrow evening. Please,” he exhaled quietly.

As always, Aventurine left the prince utterly perplexed. This was not an agreement he’d planned on making, an activity he’d ever considered pursuing, and yet he found himself almost eager. He pulled up his hood and mask, and noted how Aventurine never turned back to him as he bade farewell and left the store. Eager, yes, but he also felt conflicted, and not for the reasons he would have expected.

There was of course the nagging at the back of his mind that what he was doing was unbecoming of a prince, a voice that he’d always listened to in the past but seemed drowned out by the far more concerning fact that his distraction was becoming a far bigger issue and this seemed the only solution. What left him more concerned was the object of his attention.

The ire Aventurine had shown when he thought himself equated to a courtesan, the hesitance in his agreement, the rules he gave with a troubling practice. All of it left Sunday feeling… confused. The rules themselves all seemed entirely reasonable, yet the merchant had seemed almost disappointed when he offered no argument. Sunday had said at the start that he could refuse his query if it left him uneasy and yet he’d not done so.

He wandered for a short while, though he was certain he was not recognized coming or going from the shop. It was rather late by the time he returned to his chambers and washed off the charcoal he’d worn around his eyes. He looked over to the wardrobe where the sleeve and lubrication were still stowed, yet untouched from the last time.

He could not entirely ignore the bubbling shame he felt. He’d agreed tomorrow evening to arrive at Aventurine’s shop and have him demonstrate the use of such a toy, and in no innocent way such as sliding his fingers inside it. He could not say it was the same as hiring a courtesan, but neither could he say the agreement was incredibly distinct. Still he had agreed. Still he stubbornly refused to be deterred, despite nagging voices of his subconscious warning him not to forgo his integrity.

“You seem to have quite a bit on your mind,” Robin quietly prodded the next morning at breakfast. “Is everything all right?”

“There was a small commotion yesterday whilst I was overseeing construction. No one was injured, thankfully, but I cannot help but worry it may be an omen,” he confessed, to avoid the true source of his worries.

“An omen? You think something will go wrong with the festival?”

“I am uncertain. I wish for everything to go smoothly as possible. Father is relying on me. I… am concerned that perhaps, with my mind wandering as it has of late, that I have overlooked something crucial.”

“He puts too much pressure on you,” she frowned.

“Robin…”

“It is true! And as a result you put too much on yourself in turn. One small commotion is not an omen, it is a common occurrence.”

“I… suppose you may be right.”

“I often am. Though, it did not escape my notice that your mind is wandering. For someone I’ve always known to be nothing but focused, how curious. What has you so distracted?”

“It… is nothing. At any rate, I believe I have finally come up with a solution to that particular issue, so worry not. My focus will be exactly where it is meant to be,” he explained.

Robin let out a long, overly dramatic sigh as she rested her cheek in her hand. She looked over at Sunday with obvious doubt in her eyes. He knew better than to lie to her. Even when he tried, she always managed to see through his attempts at deception. He sheepishly looked away, knowing he was caught and hoping she’d decide to overlook it. Of course, she did not.

“My dear brother… For what reason do you hide from me? Here I thought we needed no secrets between us.”

“It is not so simple…”

“Is it not? What could possibly be troubling you that you dare not tell even me? Father is not here.”

“It is… It is simply… It is a rather… embarrassing matter. Though, as I said, it shall soon be resolved.”

“We have spent our entire lives together, from the very day we were born. You mean to tell me that there is any shame left to be had between us?”

“Robin…”

“Fine then. Shall I guess? Is it lesser or more than when you leapt from the upper floor thinking you could fly with your-”

“Please, sister. Alright. I will explain, just…”

“Go on then,” she grinned, satisfied.

“I… I went to that merchant on Gallagher’s recommendation, after you insisted on aiding me with a disguise. After… After meeting the man, I have found myself… somewhat struck by him. He is… rather peculiar, in some ways, and it has occupied my thoughts unceasingly.”

“How odd could he be? Simply because of the wares he sells?”

“That is among my curiosities but it is not the most prevalent of my concerns about him. Rather, it is his manner. He… I suppose the most simple way to say it is that he does not treat me as if I am the prince, but rather as if I am… any other customer, or perhaps like I am more of a nuisance than that. I have never had anyone regard me with such clear impatience. I feel as if his words are worthy of my offense and yet enmity seems to dissolve just as quickly as it rises in his presence. It makes no sense to me.”

“I see…” she hummed, seemingly regarding his words with such weight, yet her expression remained amused. “Did you know, dear brother, that a great many of my friends have such gall to treat me as any other citizen, rather than as the princess? I do believe such a thing is considered… ah, yes… being comfortable around a person. It comes naturally when two people become close. Perhaps you should try it.”

“Robin, you know very well that is not- We have met only thrice. I could scarcely call us anything more than acquaintances.”

“You may not be aware, seeing as you’ve no friends yourself, but friendship does in fact start with acquaintanceship.”

“Robin-”

“Sunday. I mean this with only the greatest care. Even the prince is allowed- Nay, deserves companionship. Not just fealty from servants and soldiers. It is only you who deems yourself ineligible. Father’s expectations be damned, for they are not the common peoples’. I’d rather say most would think it stranger that you have no one to name a friend. If this merchant has captured your attention, perhaps it’s worth pursuing. Answer your curiosities about him, and stop being so… unyielding. In my opinion, it is people like that merchant and Gallagher, people willing to acknowledge your humanity before your regality, that you so desperately need by your side.”

He let out a sigh, curving his ear wings to hide his face. There was merit to her scolding, and he knew such. It was far from the first time she’d recommended he make some sort of bond outside of the ones that naturally came from his position as the crown’s heir. Still, to even think of Aventurine somehow filling that space felt like a grave misstep.

“I will be meeting him again soon. Your advice has not gone unheard, I assure you.”

“Good.”

That evening he dressed in the same disguise and slipped out of the castle unseen just after the sun had finished setting. He knocked on the shop door, as usual, and waited anxiously. As minutes passed with no sound coming from inside, he grew evermore anxious. He fiddled with the inconspicuous package in his hands, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and even knocked again. Still, nothing.

Then, moments later, there was a loud slam from an inner door, startling Sunday. A second later, the door in front of him cracked open, and a tall, lavishly dressed woman was exiting. She regarded him with a quick glance and a polite smile, and he took a moment to remember how he recognized her. Lady Bonajade, a guild representative from the IPC guild. It was the smae guild that Aventurine was a part of, so it was easy to put together they were probably busy with work matters when he arrived. As she stepped away without a word, Aventurine came after her, looking upset.

His eyes flicked over to Sunday and in an instant his evident ire washed away as he swallowed and steeled his expression. He took a deep breath, glancing back over to where Bonajade was turning around a corner for just a moment, before shaking his head and addressing Sunday, still silently stood by the door.

“Sorry about that. Come inside.”

“Is everything alright?” he asked quietly, noting how Aventurine locked the door this time around, something he’d not done on his last visits.

“It’s nothing for you to mind, your highness. This will be more comfortable in the back room. Please, follow me.”

“If this is a bad time-”

“Look, your highness,” Aventurine quickly interrupted, a sharp edge to his voice. “I already said it’s not something for you to mind. Just forget you ever saw that woman.”

The venom in his voice when referring to ‘that woman’ was notable. Even though the merchant was insisting on him leaving it alone, all he wanted was to insist upon the answers. Still, he knew continuing to pry would end up with him being kicked out of the shop, rather than getting those answers. He nodded in agreement, and Aventurine led him into through a rear door. The back room was simple, containing a bed with plain sheets, a small table and chair, and an open, empty footlocker in the corner.

“Is this… your-”

“I don’t live here. The previous proprietor did, and used this as his room. I kept the bed mostly for convenience, but I rarely actually sleep here.”

“I see.”

“Now, would you rather sit on the bed or in the chair?”

“Um… Whichever will be better for you. I am allowing you to take the lead here, seeing as this is your expertise.”

“Right… Here,” he said quietly, pulling out the wooden chair for him. “Disrobe completely, and sit. I will place your things on the bed.”

He was used to undressing and dressing in front of attendants, but something about the circumstances colored this differently. He swallowed his hesitance, slipping off his clothes under Aventurine’s watching eyes. The merchant's head tilted, regarding him with a subtle curiosity. It was the first time he’d shown any amount of interest in the prince, which did leave Sunday feeling marginally less nervous.

His clothes were neatly folded and placed on the mattress, and Aventurine removed his gloves before taking the sleeve and lubrication from the package he’d brought with him. He regarded the small, corked bottle, raising a brow as he looked back over to where Sunday had politely sat.

“I told you already I had made use of it.”

“Fine. I will admit some of the lubrication has been used. Still, the bottle is mostly full. Was the toy not to your liking after all?”

“No, that was not the case. I simply… I… I could scarcely bring myself to…”

“Of course,” Aventurine tutted. “Your royal highness wouldn’t deign to do something so filthy as to touch yourself.”

“I-”

“I don’t think I could stand it, holding myself to such standards even in the privacy of my own bedchambers. Surely you don’t have an audience even as you sleep and bathe.”

“Of course not.”

“So who would even know?”

“I… I…”

Aventurine's finger trailed a line from the top of Sunday's collarbone down his chest to his abdomen. His breath hitched at the unfamiliar touch, at Aventurine’s calm observation in contrast to his own nervous disposition. Colorful, hooded eyes followed the slowly moving finger, the touch almost feeling like a taunt. ‘Push me away before I do something more.’ He did not. He gripped the sides of the seat by his hips, remembering to abide by the rules given the evening before. Aventurine’s eyes met his, just for a moment.

“You couldn’t even do this to yourself, and you are going to allow me to do it for you?”

“I… am attempting to be less… stringent,” Sunday poke between forcefully even breaths.

He already felt warm. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and his mouth felt dry. Such a simple touch, a single gliding finger had left a burning trail. He chanced a glance up at Aventurine’s face. His gaze was pointed downward, at Sunday’s arousal already making itself known. There was a subtle surprise parting his lips. Sunday swallowed at their proximity.

“I do wonder how you’ve managed all this time, when I haven’t barely touched you and you’re already hard,” Aventurine whispered. The words seemed harsh but there was no mocking in his tone.

“This is not… a common occurrence for me.”

“No? Ha! Are you saying this is just for me?” he smirked, meeting Sunday’s gaze.

“I am.”

The smirk fell as pink started to color his face. His ringed eyes darted away and he cleared his throat as he backed away, just a step. As if stirred back to a business-like demeanor, he uncorked the bottle and poured out a generous amount over the same fingers that had just been taunting him. Three of those long digits sank into the plush interior of the toy, coating the leather with the slick oil. It was feeling harder and harder to keep his breathing even.

“I’m curious, your highness. Just what were you thinking about when you used this toy before,” he mused, speaking so quietly that Sunday could barely even parse out his words. “Some beautiful maiden of the court who caught your eye? I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about the prince having a betrothed.”

“I do not, despite my father’s urging,” he exhaled in response.

“So what did catch the elusive prince’s interest enough to convince him to do something so unfathomable?”

There was a slight snicker to his words. Sunday couldn’t help but wonder why his admittance of innocence had struck him so. It almost felt like he was offended, the way he kept mentioning it. Deeming it sufficiently prepared, Aventurine kneeled between Sunday’s parted legs, catching him off guard. Those long fingers were on him, still wet with lubrication as he wrapped his hand around his member. His breath caught in his throat at the sensation.

The toy felt just as tight as he remembered. It was slick as Aventurine slowly slid it down his length. By instinct, his wings covered his face as his head fell back. A sharp breath escaped him as Aventurine moved his hand, dragging the toy along his length with a steady rhythm. He heard a quiet chuckle and risked a glance. Aventurine was smiling to himself as his eyes focused on what he was doing.

“W-What?”

“My apologies, your highness. I hadn’t dared to imagine how you’d react, and your sheepishness should have been predictable, given our past encounters, and yet… I found it unexpected.”

“Unexpected?”

“As you are likely aware, your highness, you have a somewhat domineering reputation. I’ve heard many stories about the crown prince, with his upright stature and confident presentation. Even when timidly entering a salacious shop, you stood so tall I recognized you even with your face covered, so to see you hide behind your feathers… I apologize for finding it amusing.”

“No- Ah- No apologies needed. This is- You are-“

Aventurine twisted his wrist, startling out another moan and nearly causing Sunday to surge forward. His tight grip on the wooden seat was starting to make his fingers ache. He shuddered as a gentle hand on his stomach guided him back against the chair once again.

“Ah- Wait- Wait.”

“Hmm?”

“You should… ha… you should bind my hands.”

“What?”

“I… am finding it more difficult than I imagined not to reach out to hold you. I wish to abide by your rules, but…”

Aventurine’s hand paused and Sunday met his eyes, taking in the soft, surprised expression there. The eye contact didn’t last. He looked down, then over to where Sunday was desperately gripping the chair’s edge before continuing his movements and quietly clicking his tongue.

“It seems you’re rather close. If I am to abide with your request, I would have to leave to get a rope. Are you certain you can’t be a good boy for me and hold out a little longer until I finish you off?”

“I, ha, that is what worries me. It is because I am close that… that I…”

“Very well,” he hummed, removing the toy and setting it on the table. “I will be right back.”

He was gone only a moment before returning with a braided cord that appeared to have been dyed black. He walked around to behind the chair, once again kneeling and gently guiding Sunday’s limbs. He moved them so they were bent behind the back of the chair and ordered him to hold still as he put his wrists together. The rope was smoother than he expected as it was wound around his wrists.

It truly made him wonder just how often Aventurine had done this, with how quick and practiced his movements were. The cord was looped around and in between his wrists in mere moments. Sunday let out a quick hiss as the rope was pulled taught and knotted.

“Is it too tight?”

“Ah, no. It is fine,” he assured, shifting to test his now very limited range of movement. The position was somewhat uncomfortable, but the rope itself wasn’t coarse or even all that tight.

“I’ll loosen it a little. It wouldn’t do for me to leave any marks on your highness’ skin.”

“May I ask you something… potentially inappropriate?” Sunday asked, choosing to ignore the sour feeling Aventurine’s comment left him with.

“With all due respect, your highness, you are naked and erect while I tie you to a chair. I can scarcely think of any question you could ask that would be more inappropriate than this.”

“I suppose it is less the question itself that is inappropriate but rather the context of our relationship for me to be asking.”

“Uh… okay. Just… Just ask,” he sighed, deft fingers still tugging at the rope to ensure it wouldn’t be either too tight nor too loose.

“Have you… done this before? Or rather… Is this… Is this something you do often? I- I mean no offense. You simply seem rather practiced at this.”

“It’s not something I do often, but I have done it before, of course. I’m personally of the opinion that a merchant should thoroughly know the use of his wares to be able to sell them effectively.”

“I… I see. Then… these… demonstrations…” he muttered, trailing off as he realised he wasn’t quite fond of the implication.

“No,” Aventurine sighed, coming back around to his front. “This is something I have only done with you, your highness. Admittedly, you aren’t the first to ask, but… no matter. I told you already, I am no longer some yearning whore offering himself on the streets. Please try moving your hands for me. How does it feel?”

“It is not uncomfortable, and I do believe I am well bound,” Sunday assessed, his words feeling hollow as they left his mouth.

What had Aventurine meant, that he was no longer a whore? He knew if he were to press the issue, it would only end in the merchant being upset with him again. He seemed intent on moving on, and Sunday was at his mercy now. Aventurine took the sleeve, checking for a moment with his fingers that it was still as slick as he wanted it to be. There was something enchanting about the way Aventurine moved, settling between his knees and gently rubbing his thumb along the underside of his member. He swallowed down a moan, thinking to himself that the feeling of just Aventurine’s fingers was almost better than the toy.

His thoughts were lost entirely when he sank the toy down onto him, twisting it as he did so and wrenching out a sound that Sunday couldn’t halt. His attempt to curl in on himself once again was halted by his bound arms. Aventurine’s free hand splayed out on his chest, pushing him to lean back and holding him there. He could feel himself edging closer with every stroke of Aventurine’s hand. He bit down on his lower lip, trying desperately to stifle the sounds that begged to slip through.

Though his eyes were closed, he could feel Aventurine’s other hand slid upward from his chest to his neck, curling over his jaw to cup his cheek. His thumb tugged at the lip held between Sunday’s teeth. He gently warned him to stop, but the words went unheeded, so a moment later that hand was clutching his jaw in a way that forced his mouth open.

“If you bite down like that, you’ll make a mark, or worse, make yourself bleed. Worry not, you highness. No one but me will hear you.”

He did not move his hand, so Sunday could neither close his mouth or quiet himself. His eyes fluttered open to see pink and blue irises watching his mouth as if he could see the noises escaping it. By the time Aventurine let go, trusting him not to bite down again, he was already teetering at the edge. Before he could voice a warning, he came with a strained whimper. He slouched forward as much as he was able, airy whines still falling from his lips as the toy was set aside.

Aventurine didn’t say a word as he unbound the prince’s arms. He carefully guided his arms forward, hands gliding over the smooth skin as if checking to ensure no bruises were left behind. He stepped out of the room then, taking the sleeve with him. Sunday was just starting to compose himself when he returned, presumably having cleaned the sleeve.

“You may take your time to collect yourself, and depart whenever you’re ready. I’ve cleaned the sleeve for you. Don’t worry about locking the door. No one with any sense would dare steal from this place.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I have… something else I need to do this evening, and it is already late.”

He gave a half-hearted wave, and left Sunday alone again before he could try to question him further. He stared at the closed door far longer than was proper, before letting out a lengthy sigh. He looked down at his hands, at his slightly red wrists. Aventurine had been so careful with him, that he knew that redness would fade before morning. He glanced over at the clothes laid neatly on the bed, and slowly stood to dress.

“What indeed caught my interest and made me do something… unfathomable?” he muttered to himself as he slid the outer cloak over his shoulders. “Why do I feel you would have been upset, had I answered honestly?”

Notes:

Writing this did not stop me from being depressed at the 3.3 update. ANyway, if anyone has a particular toy they'd like to see a 'demonstration' of, feel free to let me know and I'll do my best.

Chapter 4

What he had expected to serve as a solution for his wandering mind had only managed to make the matter even worse. He’d gained many more questions about Aventurine, all in addition to the memory of his gentle touch. He found himself idly running his fingers over the skin of his wrists, remembering the feeling of them wrapped in smooth cord and the redness that quickly faded afterward. The vision of half-lidded pink and blue, of long pale fingers, of a small almost imperceptible smirk on plush lips haunted him.

As the festival neared ever closer, he had more and more to think about besides the enchanting merchant. His next few days were spent inspecting purchase logs and meeting with merchants, checking on decorations and construction and approving games and menus and welcoming visiting lords and ladies. He forced himself to shove aside the thoughts of Aventurine until the midnight hour, when there was nothing else to occupy him.

No touch of his own hands could emulate the feeling of Aventurine’s finger running down his chest. No matter how he tried to mimic the merchant’s skillful use of the toy, he couldn’t manage to recreate the feeling of that night. He felt utterly hollow after each attempt he made.

Given how they’d parted, Sunday wasn’t sure how to proceed so they could meet again. He doubted Aventurine would call on him, but it seemed presumptuous to come to the shop unannounced and expect Aventurine to have the time. Yet he’d seemed upset when last Sunday had sent a letter and he wasn’t certain what exactly he would need to request. He hadn’t had much free time in the past evenings, given the uptick of visitors to entertain, but finally, a week and a half after their last meeting, he was blessedly free from commitments.

He remembered, as he disguised himself, what Aventurine had said before about his posture revealing him. Perhaps he’d been correct, and no one else would notice, but he forced himself to slouch as he walked through the streets. He knocked on a now familiar door and wasn’t made to wait long before he was faced with the very source of his sleepless nights.

“Ah, and here I thought I’d managed to scare you off,” he spoke casually, stepping aside to allow Sunday to enter.

“Scare me off?” he repeated.

“Well, the exalted prince stooped to such low levels in my presence, and then I heard nary a word since. I assumed you’d thought better of our agreement. After all, this is all rather beneath you, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. I… I may have previously held that opinion, but I have reconsidered such ideals.”

“Oh, how generous of you.”

“Please, Aventurine. I meant no offense. My absence was merely due to a lack of time. The preparations for the festival have demanded the entirety of my attention, and likely will continue until after it is concluded. My spare minutes this evening are a scarcity.”

“I need neither excuse nor explanation. It was not as if I was waiting for you.”

He spoke offhandedly, and likely did not mean it to wound as it had. Sunday couldn’t even explain why such a simple statement had left him feeling aggrieved. He swallowed down the bitter taste, reminding himself that he’d come here for a reason, and redirected the conversation.

“I was not entirely certain how I was meant to set another meeting. I did not know if you preferred me to send a letter or just arrive. I would not dare to presume you have the available time. You seemed… somewhat rushed after our last appointment.”

“That was… My apologies. Were you hoping to spend your spare minutes with me this evening, or did you come to dictate my future schedule?”

“I would not dictate-” he paused to collect himself. With a deep breath, he spoke again. “Only if your time is currently available for me to borrow. Otherwise, our meeting can be arranged for a more convenient time. I would not dare to dictate your time, as you say.”

“I’m not presently needed elsewhere. Which of the products here did you have in mind?”

He took a quick glance at the shop shelves, his eyes lingering on the metal rod Aventurine had once claimed was beyond him. He still could not fathom what it was or why Aventurine would believe such, but given the merchant’s persisting disbelief that Sunday would have interest in any of his products, he couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. He pointed it out, and predictably, Aventurine shook his head.

“You don’t even know what that is.”

“Is that not the purpose of this arrangement? I will never know until it is shown to me.”

“If you insist, very well. See yourself to the back room and disrobe. I will join you in just a moment. Should I bring a rope as well?”

“Yes,” Sunday said immediately, hoping he did not sound too eager.

Aventurine eyed the door to the back room and Sunday gave a quick nod before turning and walking away. He slid his clothes off slowly, folding them into a neat pile which he placed at the end of the mattress before sitting down on the bed. He clasped his hands together, feeling his nerves bubble up once again at the peculiar circumstances.

It was not long after that Aventurine joined him, rope draped over his shoulder while the rod and a vial of lubricant filled his hands. His head tilted slightly as he regarded Sunday sitting upright on the edge of the bed, hands covering his prick in probable embarrassment. He let out a silent sigh to himself as he set the sounding rod and oil on the table.

He really hadn’t expected him back, after the first couple days had passed. He was almost certain he’d pushed things enough that the prince would choose to forget all about him and this store. Especially considering the way he’d fled after the act was done, hoping to hide how aroused the whole thing had made him as well.

He really didn’t think that would happen. Jade had left him in a sour mood, and despite how handsome the prince was, Aventurine had no interest in getting involved with customers. That disinterest had persisted no matter how many times he was propositioned, and no matter how attractive the customer was. Yet… between the pleasant sounds he made and knowing that he was likely the only person to ever see the prince unravel in such a way, it had gotten to him. He briefly wondered if he’d be able to convince him to wear a gag, just to prevent such an issue from arising again.

“Of all products… you just had to focus on this one,” he tutted. “Does it not frighten you at all, my warnings?”

“I trust you will not harm me.”

“Quite the trust for someone that may as well be a stranger.”

He clicked his tongue, sliding the rope through his hand contemplatively. He felt a little assured that this truly would be the last time he saw the prince, in all likelihood. The sleeve was a simple toy that only brought pleasure, so seeing as Sunday had not fled before the deed was done, nor stopped them in the middle, he should have known he’d eventually return undeterred. The toy he’d chosen this time however…

“I want you on your knees. If you believe you will not struggle to hold your balance, you may kneel on the bed. Otherwise, you will kneel on the floor,” he ordered, waiting for Sunday to take offense.

The directions caught him off guard, but his hesitance only lasted a moment. He folded his legs underneath him, kneeling easily on the thin mattress. Aventurine watched him with concern, frowning despite Sunday’s quick obedience. A moment later, he stepped close, holding Sunday steady by his shoulder as he sat on the bed by him, slowly moving to easily reach behind. Sunday’s hands were moved behind him, and the smooth cord was wrapped around his wrists, though the position was different from the last time.

“Is this toy not to your liking?” Sunday questioned, glancing back as he felt the rope being slid under his ankles as well.

Aventurine looked up from what he was doing, seeing the prince watching him. He shook his head and turned his focus back to the limbs in front of him. He was continually surprised by the prince, going along with whatever he did without complaint. From what he’d heard in stories and gossip, such behavior wasn’t exactly typical for him, and yet… It was troubling how easy it felt to have Sunday in the palm of his hand.

“My enjoyment or lack thereof is irrelevant to our arrangement,” he eventually answered.

“I suppose… but I…”

Sunday frowned, chewing on the inside of his lip so Aventurine could not see. After the merchant had rushed away the last time, he’d been struck with guilt as he walked back to the castle. He’d gone out of his way to pleasure Sunday, and had received nothing in return. Not even payment, considering they were using the toy he’d already purchased. He felt the rope tighten, binding his wrists and ankles together and ensuring concretely that he could not move from his kneeling position.

“Is it too tight?” Aventurine asked, his finger running along the ropes and tickling the skin of Sunday’s wrist.

“Not at all.”

“Good,” he hummed, sliding off the bed.

“Would it not be better… for you to enjoy this as well?”

“I fail to see the necessity.”

“You are… pleasuring me. Of course the purpose is educational, but I cannot deny that I… that it was very pleasurable. It feels as if you should receive the same from this arrangement, at the very least.”

“Ha! Is that so?” he laughed, smirking down at the bound prince. Two fingers curled under his chin, forcing Sunday to look up at him. “Did you wish to return the favor?”

“Only if saying so does not make you uncomfortable,” he admitted.

It should have, Aventurine thought to himself. It should make him uncomfortable. He wanted nothing to do with this whole arrangement, and yet it did not. The sight of the crown prince on his knees, looking up at him with eager, golden eyes, obedient and pleading left him with a roiling urge to give in and do as he pleased. His thumb reached up to run over the prince’s lower lip as he considered the offer.

“Would you even know how to pleasure me? Have you ever lain with someone before?”

“I… have… once,” Sunday muttered, looking away with a grimace. “A woman, but I believe much of what I learned at that time could also please a man.”

“Oh? Did you purchase a courtesan to ensure you could service your future queen? How diligent of you.”

“ I did not, but you are correct all the same.”

“I… I see. My apologies. I shouldn’t have said-“

“It is fine.”

Aventurine swallowed, still feeling guilty despite the assurance. He glanced over at the table, the toy that was the whole reason they were here, in this position. He took a deep breath, and made a decision he was sure he would regret come morning.

“I’ve changed my mind. I need you on the floor after all, so I’m going to untie you temporarily.”

Sunday looked confused, but nodded in agreement. Rather than getting back on the bed, he reached around, holding Sunday’s shoulder to balance himself as he deftly undid the knot. He could feel the ends of feathers tickling his fingers as his wings twitched.

“Stay in that position until I tell you to move,” he ordered once Sunday’s ankles were loose. Thankfully, his arms were still bound.

He pushed the prince’s bare chest to make him lean back just enough for Aventurine to straddle him. He saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed, clearly interested in whatever it was he was doing. He trailed his fingers slowly downward until he was wrapping his hand around his still soft member.

Sunday’s breath hitched and he clenched his hands still tied behind his back. Aventurine was so close, hovering over him just slightly. If they hadn’t been bound, he knew it would have been much more difficult to keep his hands off him. He swallowed a moan that bubbled up as Aventurine’s thumb pressed against the slit at the end of his length.

“Don’t,” Aventurine mumbled. He’d been watching Sunday’s face intently, and now his gaze was directed at his lips. It made him feel warm.

“What?”

“Don’t hold back your moans. Let me hear you.”

“I- I will… try. It is a reflex.”

“Good boy,” he praised in a low murmur.

The sound of his voice made Sunday shudder, and it was clear by the uptick of his lips that he noticed. A moment later he was sliding off the bed, moving to the table where the rod was still waiting. Sunday waited patiently, and soon Aventurine was returning to him.

“I want you to kneel facing the bed. Can you do so without use of your arms, or do you need help?”

“I- I think I can,” he mumbled, shifting so he could slide his legs out from under him, able to use his arms enough to stop himself from losing balance.

Getting off the bed was easy enough then, but kneeling was harder. Still, he was soon obediently right where Aventurine wanted him. He heard the merchant hum behind him, sounding pleased, and felt his face flush at the realization. He looked back to watch as he crouched behind him, resecuring the rope around his ankles so he was fully bound once again. He once again asked for assurance that it wasn’t too tight, which was once again given readily.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t entirely sure how to demonstrate this toy at first, but you’ve given me an interesting idea, so I suppose I should thank you,” he muttered as he came around to Sunday’s front. “It’s not like the sleeve or a phallus toy which is meant specifically to aid in bringing you to fruition. It is simulating but it also… Well… You’ll see.”

He poured a large amount of the lubrication onto the head of Sunday’s member, rubbing it briefly into the pink skin before once again pressing his thumb against the slit, pulling the flesh slightly aside. The thin, wavy, metal rod was in his other hand, also generously coated, and Sunday swallowed as he finally put together its intent. He took a deep breath as Aventurine pressed the smaller end against his slit, slowly pushing it in just slightly.

“Relax, friend. It will hurt a bit, but I promise it will feel good if you see this through.”

Sunday nodded, not trusting his ability to form words. It did hurt, but the way Aventurine was massaging him also felt good, leaving him disoriented. He didn’t realize he’d started to lean forward until the top of his head landed against Aventurine’s shoulder, but if he was bothered, he neither said nor made an effort to push him away. Quite the opposite, he felt warm breath tickling his ear, causing his wings to flutter.

“Almost there, friend. You’re being so good for me. Does it hurt a lot?”

“N-No. It… It is okay.”

“Good boy,” he praised again, making the prince feel even warmer.

Once the rod had been fully inserted, Sunday shuddered violently with an airy moan as it pressed against something that made him tingle. Aventurine’s low chuckle painted his neck with intoxicating heat and he whined when he was forced to sit up. Every movement caused the end of the rod to press against that same sensitive nerve. A hand brushed through his hair and he opened his eyes to see Aventurine standing before sitting at the very edge of the bed, in front of him.

“So, is your highness going to show me just how good you think you are at pleasing someone?”

“I- I…” he clenched his hands, held taut behind his back. He’d mostly been taught to use his fingers, but obviously that was not an option. “T- ngh. Tell me what to do.”

The merchant didn’t seem perturbed by his request. If anything, his smirk grew wider. He undid the belt around his waist with one hand while his other curled around the back of Sunday’s head, pulling him to force him to shuffle closer. He struggled not to collapse with the stimulation such small motions caused. When he blinked away the tears welling in his eyes, he was greeted with Aventurine’s member, freed from his trousers and right next to his face.

“Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue,” he ordered.

He did as he was told, feeling like a panting dog with his tongue out. Aventurine didn’t make him wait long. His member was warm and salty against his tongue, and he opened his mouth wider to accept it. He watched the merchant’s face as he closed his lips around it, pressing his tongue upward in a way he hoped was pleasurable. The ends of Aventurine’s lips twitched and the hand that had been resting gently at the back of his head curled to tangle in his hair.

“M-Make sure to… ah … to keep your teeth away, and… and- fuck,” he gasped as Sunday attempted to swallow around him. “If it feels like you’re going to gag, back off. You don’t- You don’t need to push yourself.”

It was easier said than done. Every time he shifted, the rod pressed against that spot that made him want to surge forward, and every press of his tongue, every moan and swallow made Aventurine’s guiding hand tug at his hair. He felt the urgent need to cum already, but he had a feeling such a thing wouldn’t be possible until the rod was removed. Knowing he’d find no release until Aventurine did, he pushed ever further past the point where it became difficult to breath and his throat spasmed against the intrusion.

He coughed as Aventurine yanked him off forcefully, the resulting moan sounding utterly broken. The tears welling in his eyes slipped down his cheek as he looked up and saw Aventurine gawking down at him before letting out a groan. The prince stuck out his tongue once again, waiting for Aventurine to release him.

“I just told you not to push yourself. Did you take that as a challenge?” he exhaled.

“I… want to do good for you,” Sunday rasped out.

“Ha! That’s… That’s just… Does the crown prince not already receive enough praise in his daily life? I’d expect you’re given nothing but.”

“I do… but it is different when coming from you.”

Aventurine used his thumb to wipe away the tears that had fallen before lingering on Sunday’s lips, somewhat pink from being used. He had the dangerous thought that he wouldn’t mind this going further, that he almost wondered how he’d look if taking him. The image seemed a mite too desirable.

“If you push like that, you could cause yourself to gag and vomit, or you could choke. Do you not hear your own voice? It wouldn’t do for the prince to show evidence of this affair, so do not. I assure you, it feels plenty good enough without you going further.”

“I-“

“You are being very good for me, your highness. If you keep being good, and make me cum, then I’ll allow you to cum as well, but if you try to choke yourself again, I will end this and you’ll go home unsatisfied. Understand?”

“Y-Yes. I understand.”

“Good boy. Now open your mouth for me.”

He did just that and Aventurine chewed on his lip. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the image of the prince, bound and naked on his knees, mouth open and inviting whilst tear stains painted his cheeks with running charcoal. It was incredibly enticing and also felt like he’d done something incredibly wrong. He had threatened to defile him, but he hadn’t expected the prince to allow it so easily.

Sunday moaned as soon as Aventurine’s length was sliding between his lips and he was granted the muffled sound that the merchant was holding back. As much as he wanted to disobey, just to try to draw those sounds out fully from him, he kept to Aventurine’s instructions. It didn’t take much longer anyways. With a press of his tongue and the thought to suck against the head, he was once again yanked away, streaks of fluid painting his lips and cheek. Aventurine, breathing heavy and staring at his face with darkened eyes, has a sight to behold.

“So… So good,” he rasped, pushing Sunday slightly backward. “I will clean you off in just a moment.”

Aventurine’s fingers ran over Sunday’s length with a feather light touch, but it felt overwhelming all the same. A broken cry fell from his mouth as the rod shifted, pressing even harder against the nerves. It was almost tortuous, the amount of pleasure he felt as Aventurine stroked him so gently.

“P-Please…” he whined.

“Does your highness wish to cum?”

“Yes, please. Please…”

“Such a good boy for me,” Aventurine hummed, tugging on the small ring at the end of the rod.

Its removal was just as slow as its insertion, but the pain had been entirely replaced by aching pleasure. Sunday was moaning with every exhale, clenching his fists so tightly that he was sure his nails would leave marks on his palm. The end of the rod had barely left his slit when he released over Aventurine’s still retreating hand. He slumped forward, being caught by the man in front of him.

His eyes were closed, but he could hear the subtle sound of the rod being placed on the floor and the steady beats of the heart in the chest his head rested against. He could feel Aventurine’s hand brush through his hair soothingly for a moment, before gliding down his neck and back. Not a word was spoken as Aventurine deftly reached for the ropes, needing only one hand to unravel them. Even after he’d been unbound, Sunday kept his arms behind him, refusing to risk breaking any rules when the feeling of Aventurine against him was too comforting to allow to cease.

“Let me help you onto the bed. I’ll retrieve a washrag, and you can take your time to collect yourself,” Aventurine spoke softly.

As much as the prince did not want to move, he didn’t protest. His legs wobbled as Aventurine forced him to stand, somewhat numb from kneeling for so long. As soon as he was seated on the mattress, Aventurine was leaving him, and he swallowed the urge to beg him to stay. He found himself leaning to the side until he was falling against the mattress, too thin to really be comfortable, but much softer than the floor. He stayed in that awkward position, feet still on the ground while his upper body laid to the side, until Aventurine returned.

He chuckled at the sight when he walked in, the ever upright prince, boneless against the bed. He shook away the fondness that surfaced, as he tugged him to sit up so he could wash his face, knowing it had no place in his life. The charcoal around Sunday’s eyes smeared as he wiped away his release, and with a sigh, he resolved to wash that away as well. He doubted it would make much difference to the disguise, dark as it was outside this time of night.

“In the future, send a letter when you have the time to request me,” he said quietly. “If you have a request, state so plainly. Otherwise, I will come to the castle with an appropriate recommendation. I fear you’re not the best at disguising yourself, your highness.”

“I- I have not been recognized. I even took your recommendation to not stand so tall.”

“You have not, I’ll concede. Still, if we continue this, it is only a matter of time.”

“I would daresay receiving visitors late into the night would be stranger.”

“Not at all. For there is no reason to say I would be visiting the castle for the crown prince. I have been to your bedchambers before, if you’ll recall. I can escort myself there, after quite reasonably visiting someone else.”

“Are you acquainted with someone else staying in the castle?”

“Your royal physician, in fact. He’s always chiding me to take better care of myself. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn away an overdue visit.”

“You are acquainted with Dr. Ratio?”

“I am acquainted with a great number of people, your highness. That does not matter at this time. Send a letter, and I will come to you. Let us not bother with these disguises.”

“I… As you say. Could I make an appointment with you now, however?”

“Oh? I suppose.”

“I will not be free until after the start of the Charmony festival, however, after the grand feast on the first day, I had planned to sneak away while the lords and ladies are intoxicated. Perhaps, if you are not already spoken for, I could see you then.”

“I believe I can make time for you. Was there a toy you desired?”

“Not at the moment. I will trust your recommendation for now.”

“Very well. It seems I will have some time to consider what is best,” he hummed thoughtfully. “You may take your time to dress, and leave when you are ready. I will be in the shop, balancing some accounts, and will lock up after you leave.”

“I… I won’t take long.”

“If I do not say it later, good night, your highness.”

Chapter 5

Sunday had realised there was no denying that Aventurine had fully captured his attention. What he had initially hoped was nothing more than a passing interest or curiosity had proven to be a lingering thought. The mix of questions unanswered and alluring images remembered had become what he could only consider to be a possible infatuation. He did not desire a friendship of the sort his sister had encouraged, but something more. Something more than he’d been granted. He wished for the feeling of Aventurine under his fingertips, the sight of him as bare as the prince had been before him. The very things he’d been denied at the very beginning of their agreement, and likely not without cause.

It was one of the many questions about the merchant that plagued him. With his derision for his patrons and seeming disinterest in his wares, despite his expertise with them, Sunday was perplexed as to why he’d choose such a trade. His reflex to refer to himself as a whore, his admittance that other customers had attempted to request the same arrangement as the prince, and been denied, and the steadfast rule that he was not to be touched. All of it painted a picture that worried Sunday more than he liked.

He knew frighteningly little about the merchant. He’d heard about Avgins from Sigonia, with their bejeweled eyes, but knew nothing about the people or the place beyond rarely spoken rumors. Sigonia was far from Asdana, so he’d never been to the desert land across the sea. A tattered tome long forgotten in his library described it as a wasteland occupied by several nomadic tribes, including the Avgins he’d once heard about, and the Katicans with a reportedly bloody reputation. Seeing as the book he’d found focused more on the geography and flora of the desolate land rather than the people who lived there, he knew anything more would have to be learned from the person himself, but he wasn’t sure how much the merchant would oblige such questions.

There was also his enrollment in the International Party of Commerce. A great number of merchants were members of the IPC guild, and it was no surprise that Aventurine was as well. Rather, it was his fiery distaste for the guild representative Bonajade that made Sunday wonder. He knew little about the woman, but had met with her on a few scattered occasions for one reason or another. She’d always been incredibly polite and composed, but then again, he wondered how different she may be when not in the presence of the royal family.

He was acquainted with Dr. Veritas Ratio, the royal physician. Such a thing should not have caught him off guard as much as it had, considering the doctor was known to treat any number of citizens outside of the castle as well. He wondered just how well they knew each other, if Aventurine was simply a patient, or if they were acquainted outside of such ties. He wondered if the stern doctor would even tell him, should he inquire. He was an impatient man who would scarcely bother to answer any question he deemed unworthy of his time, but even still, Sunday was the prince. Would he refuse?

He received an answer unexpectedly, as he stood upon the stage for his speech, ushering in the start of the Charmony festival. His eyes were caught by blond hair framing striking eyes, the merchant Aventurine in the crowd, stood next to the very doctor he’d considered questioning. He barely managed not to stumble over his words as he saw them, redirecting his gaze so he could focus. He was met with cheers when his speech concluded, and the crowd began to disperse to enjoy the festivities. He sought out the merchant, witnessed him frowning as he spoke to Ratio beside him, evidently denying some accusation with a wave of his hand.

As much as he wanted to approach, he knew he could not. He had other duties to attend to, and far too many eyes watching. Instead he turned away, and reminded himself he’d been promised Aventurine’s presence later that evening, after the feast was well underway. It was just about the only thing he was looking forward to, aside from his sister’s performance just before the banquet would begin. That too, was later, and now he was still busy, so he struck the man from his thoughts for the time.

“Now what has my dear brother so anxious?” Robin questioned in a whisper, midway through the evening festivities. “Everything has gone well, has it not? You seemed enraptured when I was singing, so I thought you’d let your inhibitions go.”

“Your performance was of course enchanting, as always. It has been what I most looked forward to all week.”

“I see. So now that it’s over, you once again worry about nonexistent omens?”

“Not quite. As you say, the festival has gone impeccably well. I am sure the following days will go similarly.”

“So then, why are you pecking at your food like a dove? I’d expect your appetite to be ravenous, all you've forgone these past months.”

“I am… I…” he sighed, eyes darting at the others around them. They were speaking quietly and likely couldn’t be heard over the clamor, but he was still hesitant to be honest around eavesdropping ears. Covering his mouth and leaning in closer to Robin, he spoke directly into her ear. “I have arranged to meet someone after this, and I am waiting for an opportunity to slip away unnoticed.”

“Oh! Really?” his sister asked with wide eyes. He simply nodded, hiding his flush with his wings.

“I promise you I will tell you more later, but perhaps for now, you could assist in my escape?”

Her confirmation came in a sly smirk and an abrupt toast. As she stood and crossed the room with a gentle sway, capturing the attention of all around as she always did with her performances, Sunday backed toward the nearest door, slipping out in silence. They weren’t drunk enough to not notice his absence eventually, but it was late enough they’d accept the excuse of him retiring just a bit early. After all, he’d had quite a few busy days leading up to this. He’d be forgiven.

So he told himself, again and again as he shuffled to his chambers. His doubts were intrusive, but it was already done. He took a deep breath as his chamber door shut behind him. Father’s eyes had been on Robin the whole time, and he wouldn’t be noticed right away. He’d be forgiven. Probably.

It was maybe an hour or two later that he heard a knock on his door. He stumbled as he hurriedly stood from his chair, his foot getting caught on the leg of his desk. He hissed as he landed on the ground, glaring at his traitorous leg. His door opened and a head peeked in. Sunday looked over as he heard a stifled chuckle, and saw Aventurine covering his mouth to hide his laughter.

“My apologies. I heard a loud noise and let myself in,” he grinned after clearing his throat and stepping fully through the door.

“I… may have had a bit too much wine,” Sunday lied, knowing he’d in fact had none.

“I see. Well, it’s only right for his highness to reward himself for his hard work. I was there for your speech at the opening. Very eloquent, as expected.”

Aventurine offered a hand to help him stand, but Sunday stood on his own, straightening his clothes as a reflex. His face was warm with shame. His eyes darted to the wrapped package in the merchant’s other hand to avoid his gaze. He had no idea what it contained, but he felt himself flush with anticipation.

“Thank you,” he answered quietly. “In fact, I did see you in the crowd with Dr. Ratio. It seems you two are acquainted more than I had expected.”

“Yes, well… It started out as a tenuous working relationship, if I’m honest. I was of the opinion that he couldn’t stand me for the longest time.”

“You two have worked together?”

“I have acquired ingredients for him on occasion, and he has provided his expertise in turn. It’s nothing special,” he shrugged.

“I see. Did you enjoy the festival?”

“Hm? Well, I didn’t spend much time- Ah. No, of course. It was wonderful. You did very well, your highness.”

“I was not seeking unearned praise,” Sunday sighed. “My inquiry was genuine. You did not have the time?”

“I’m sure I’ll have more opportunity over the week to revel in your hard work. This first day was simply… already booked.”

“I understand. I shall have to receive your assessment after you have had the chance, then.”

“Already requesting your next appointment?” he chuckled jokingly. “We’ve not even started this one.”

“Are you implying I will not want to see you again after you unwrap that parcel?”

“Well, I won’t deny the possibility. After all, anything I bring is something new to you. Who knows if you’ll actually enjoy it.”

“I have yet to be displeased with you,” Sunday hummed, before hurriedly correcting himself. “Your products. I have yet to be displeased with your products.”

“R-Right. Of course. I pride myself on the quality of my wares, after all.”

There was an awkward moment of silence between them, broken only when Aventurine took it upon himself to place the package on the desk. He unwrapped the parcel without a word, pulling out a simple phallus and vial of lubrication. He coughed as he made eye contact with the prince. His expression was hard to decipher. Not quite disappointed, nor was it excited. A mix of mild curiosity and confusion, perhaps.

“It seemed the obvious choice,” Aventurine defended. “After all, it is one of our most popular purchases, both for women and men. I chose a slimmer model since I imagine you’ve not previously explored yourself in this manner.”

“I… I had tried, once, remembering that you had mentioned such a thing. I am not sure if I…”

“Is that so?” Aventurine quirked an eyebrow, looking over the prince in consideration. “Well I know you did not have a toy. Did you just use your fingers?”

“I did. I cannot say whether it was my inexperience that made it unpleasurable or if it was just not something that I enjoy. Have you ever… Ah, pardon me if this question is untoward.”

“Are you asking if I’ve ever done this on someone else, or myself?”

“The- The latter. Or, well, I suppose I wonder about both.”

Aventurine hummed, considering how much to answer. Two fingers in the center of the prince’s chest was enough to push him backward until he was falling against his own mattress. His cheeks grew ever redder as Aventurine straddled him, his hand curling up and around Sunday’s neck. His fingers stretched upward, brushing against where his wings connected to his head.

“Everyone is different. Some men find more pleasure from being penetrated than from doing the penetrating, and vice versa. It’s entirely possible it just isn’t something you’ll enjoy, but that’s the purpose of this arrangement, isn’t it? To teach you about the perverse world I sell, and see which parts you can bear to debase yourself for. Knowing if I prefer to be a giver or a taker won't inform your experience, so why wonder?”

“You speak more hatefully of your practice than I ever have,” Sunday frowned, tilting his head so he could see the merchant’s face. “I have moved away from such a mindset long ago, yet you keep prodding it.”

“Your highness is far from the first to think such things about me. Even so enlightened as you claim to have become, you still had to wear a disguise just to come to my door. I do not blame you for it. I have no illusions about who I am.”

“I for one have no ideas about who you are. I ask and wonder because I would like to know.”

Aventurine glanced down, where Sunday’s hands were both politely at his hips, twitching as if he wanted to reach up and wrap his arms around him. Something about it made him hesitate. ‘Do not touch me’ had always been the rule that pushed others away. After all, the reason he was usually propositioned was because they wanted to do exactly that. Clearly, the prince was the same, which made his obedience all that more perplexing. Aventurine hated how he was starting to think he wouldn’t mind if Sunday broke that rule.

He hated how quickly he’d started stepping over his own boundaries for the sake of the prince. He hated how he allowed himself to use the prince and delighted in the sight of it. He hated how satisfied he felt when Sunday requested him to come today. He hated how his heart pounded when he watched the prince, draped in finery, speaking on a stage, and hated even more when the prince looked his way and his breath stuttered. He hated how Ratio definitely noticed and chose to hold his tongue. He hated that he was affected at all.

“I am…” he started, swallowing at the crack of his voice. He had put them in this position, so why did it suddenly feel like it was too close. “I am nobody, your highness.”

“I disagree,” Sunday argued immediately. “You are just someone I do not yet know enough about.”

“Ha… and you think knowing if I have enjoyed being taken is something you must learn?”

“It was relevant to our conversation. If you do not wish to answer, you do not have to.”

“I do… enjoy it,” he admitted after a moment, “but we are here to learn what you enjoy.”

“I think I would enjoy-” Sunday paused, and Aventurine felt a finger hesitantly tap against his thigh. “I… I mean…”

“You want to take me?”

“I will not ask that of you. You have made your rules clear… but it would be a lie to say that I do not.”

Aventurine’s eyes continued to linger on Sunday’s hand, desperate to move that small distance to hold him. Every time Aventurine curled his fingers, rubbing gently against the smooth, sensitive skin of Sunday’s neck, his wings and fingers would twitch both. The urge to touch was written plainly but the effort to remain obedient was just as clear. Looking up at Sunday’s face, golden irises were lingering on Aventurine’s lips, the desire obvious.

“In that case, I suppose we will see if you can earn it,” he exhaled, giving in.

“Pardon?”

“You will have to prove that you can make it good for me, considering you were unable to do so with yourself. If you can use your fingers to pleasure me, I will let you fuck me with that toy rather than taking it yourself, and if you can make me cum with the toy, then I will allow you to take me.”

“If this is not something you want-”

“You will have to earn this without my instruction, unlike last time. Do you think you’re up for it, your highness?”

“Yes, but please… Aventurine, if you truly do not want this, I do not wish to force or coerce you.”

“Am I not the one making the suggestion?”

“Yes, but only as I have admitted to desiring you.”

“You are not the first,” Aventurine scoffed. “However, you are the first to be granted such an offer. Now, are you going to touch me or not?”

His hesitance didn’t last, his hands running up from Aventurine’s knees up to curl around his hips. In the next moment they were gone again so he could take off his gloves. He remained watching Aventurine’s face, waiting for any sign that he wanted this to stop. He could only hope that Sunday wasn’t seeing how nervous he truly felt underneath his veneer of easy confidence.

Searching fingers explored under the hem of his vest, slipping beneath the waistband of his trousers until they were granted the feeling of his skin. The prince continued to seek any indication that Aventurine disliked what he was doing, but he could not find it. With a small groan, he rested his head against the shoulder in front of him, closing his eyes for just a moment to think.

“May I undress you?”

“Go ahead.”

Aventurine half expected the prince to rush through it, but instead he languidly ran his hands against him, undoing his vest button by button with one hand while the other slid up his back, keeping him close. He simply watched patiently, curious what the prince would do when he was in control for a change. After his vest was gently brushed off his shoulders, both hands got to work unbuttoning his shirt.

It wasn’t until there were only two buttons left that Aventurine got nervous, but he ignored the urge to stop him. As soon as his shirt was being pulled down his arms, Sunday’s eyes took notice of the scar on Aventurine’s neck. His fingers tentatively brushed over the raised skin of the long healed brand.

“Another time, your highness. Right now I believe you have a job to do,” he muttered, dodging the question he was sure the prince was about to ask.

“I am perfectly capable of listening while I undress you, but if you wish not to speak about it, I will wait until you feel comfortable enough to do so,” he murmured, thumb passing over it once again. “Am I allowed to kiss you, or is that still against the rules?”

“You wish to?”

“Your skin, at least, if I am not allowed your lips.”

It was hard to ignore how the soft request made him feel, but Aventurine forced himself to pretend otherwise. He nodded his head as he swallowed against the tight feeling in his throat. It was unfair how the prince was unraveling him without even touching him yet.

“My skin, yes,” he confirmed.

A moment later, Sunday’s lips were against his neck. Roaming fingers tickled his abdomen before undoing his belt, sliding the leather out fully before dropping it to the floor where his other clothes had landed. He exhaled a shaky breath when he felt Sunday’s tongue against his collarbone at the same time that his fingers once again snuck under the hem of his trousers. They retreated in surprise as they brushed against his member, already hard, but they didn’t stay away. They wrapped around him, pushing aside his clothes in the process.

“I will need to lay you down to remove these.”

“That you will. So what are you waiting for?”

“Permission, of course.”

“Ha! So obedient, my good boy,” he cooed, hoping to hide how much the prince’s words were affecting him. “You have permission.”

The strength with which Sunday lifted him and laid him on the bed was somewhat surprising, despite the fact that he’d seen for himself how deceptively muscular the prince was under his clothes. He supposed the rumors that he was a capable fighter couldn’t come from nowhere after all. He was still slim, though not as much as Aventurine, but he moved him with ease.

With the rest of his clothes removed and golden eyes looking over what was exposed, he felt unexpectedly shy. Timid fingers ran across his torso, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin. He sucked in a gasp as those fingers wrapped around him again, stroking him slowly, teasingly. Clearly, the prince was in no hurry tonight.

“This is… not how you’re intended to get me off, your highness.”

“My apologies. You are so beautiful it is easy to forget,” he hummed, eyes still roaming.

Aventurine tried to ignore how it made his heart flutter, covering his all-too-warm face as Sunday turned away from him. He left the bed only momentarily, to retrieve the toy and lubrication. He took full advantage of his unbound hands, massaging the inside of Aventurine’s thighs as he returned and parted his legs to sit between them. He turned his head, kissing tenderly just above Aventurine’s knee, his warm breath making the merchant shudder.

“I am not asking for instruction, merely clarification. Am I only allowed, for this test, to stimulate you from behind?”

“N-No. I’ll let you know when I deem you’ve earned the right to continue, but that will never come if you do not get on with it.”

His lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. He poured the lubrication over his fingers, rubbing a bit over Aventurine’s puckered entrance. He knew enough to be cautious, slowly sliding in a single finger and paying attention to Aventurine’s reactions. His eyes were watching Sunday’s hand, his lips slightly parted to let escape shallow breaths. The feeling of his warm and wet insides clenching around his finger was incredibly enticing. He curled his finger upward as he drew it back out, noting how Aventurine swallowed at the motion.

After a short while, exploring with only his middle finger didn’t seem enough. He prodded with another, a subtle warning before sliding it inside. Aventurine bit down on his lip as his breath hitched, eyes still intently watching the fingers smoothly sliding in and out of him. Sunday stretched his fingers apart, curling them again and trying desperately to find the bundle of nerves that had driven him mad in their last meeting. He knew he’d found it when Aventurine’s eyes closed and his head fell back. Testing to ensure he was correct, he pressed the ends of his fingers against that same spot, and was rewarded with Aventurine’s muffled moan.

“Does it feel good?” he asked as he slid in another finger, aiming directly for those nerves.

“Ha- Your highness, I- ah…” he mewled before covering his mouth and turning his head to the side. While it wasn’t strictly an answer, it was more than enough.

“May I use the toy now?”

Aventurine nodded, keeping his mouth covered. Still, Sunday could hear his quiet whine as he removed his fingers. He coated the toy in lubrication, noting that its size was even less than his three fingers. He did say he’d chosen one that would be easy for him to take as a beginner, after all. It was however a bit longer. He watched, entranced, as he pushed the stiff toy into Aventurine. He did not seem to be in pain at all. On the contrary, he squeezed the hand over his mouth even tighter, and arched his back off the bed. Did it really feel that good to him? Sunday couldn’t quite imagine.

He started with a slow rhythm, dragging the toy in and out and watching with awe the way Aventurine seemed to cling to it. He somewhat missed the feeling of him clenching around his fingers, his twitching whenever Sunday managed to brush against that most pleasurable spot. He tried to find it again, intent on making him release with only the toy, despite getting permission to stimulate his member as well.

He knew he’d found it when a muffled mewl escaped from behind his hand and his legs twitched against his sides. Sunday used his free hand to push down his thigh, spreading them further again. Now that he knew the proper angle to aim for, he continued to rub against that spot with every inward thrust of the toy. He was given no warning before Aventurine released, white fluid painting his stomach and chest. Sunday’s motions ceased, leaving the toy inside him as he caught his breath. The hand that had so dutifully covered his mouth sank languidly down, his fingers running through his release. Then he held his hand up, eyeing the sticky fluid almost in disbelief.

“It seems your highness knows what he’s doing after all,” he exhaled. His eyes darted down to where his arousal was pulling his trousers painfully taught. “Are you going to claim your reward, or just keep this toy in me?”

“I… wanted to give you a moment, if you needed it.”

“Such a good boy.”

Aventurine sat up smoothly, removing the toy himself and pushing Sunday back. He caught him off guard, gripping his collar and claiming his lips. Sunday rested his hands carefully on Aventurine’s hips, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer as a tongue pressed into his mouth to taste him. Sunday could taste the subtle flavor of red wine, and wondered exactly what he’d been doing before he came here. He didn’t seem drunk, at least.

Fingers unbuttoned his shirt, pushing the fabric aside without actually removing it, before moving on to similarly unsecure his trousers. They were shoved down just enough to free him, but despite crawling on top of him, Aventurine halted, breaking their kiss and pressing his nose against the edge of his jaw.

“Go on then. You’ve earned it. Take me,” he ordered, low voice tickling his ear.

Sunday let out a groan, plunging his fingers into Aventurine’s warmth again while his other hand reached for the bottle that had been knocked aside. He carelessly poured the lubrication over his member, coating it liberally before pressing against the stretched entrance. He reminded himself to go slow, despite the urgency he felt. He’d prepared Aventurine, but he was much larger than the slim toy.

He flattened his tongue against the merchant’s neck, enjoying the salty taste of his sweat-dampened skin as he pressed inside the tight heat. It felt far better than any toy. His hands squeezed Aventurine’s sides, enjoying how well they could encompass him. He waited there for a few moments, wanting to ensure he did nothing to hurt the other.

He nibbled where he felt the merchant’s pulse against his lips, enjoying how it made Aventurine startle just slightly. He did not say anything against it however, so Sunday grew ever bolder, until he pulled away to find a small mark left behind on his skin. As if a small pink flower had bloomed there, he suddenly desired to plant a whole garden.

He rolled his hips, watching Aventurine’s face for signs of pain. He found nothing but hazy eyes meeting his half lidded, flushed cheeks and mouth agape. He needed no more encouragement. He refused to rush, using his hands to guide Aventurine while thrusting steadily upward into his intoxicating heat.

As he drew ever nearer to his own end, a partial result of having waited so long, he wrapped his hand around Aventurine’s member. He moved his fist at the same languid pace as his hips, focusing more on stimulating the head with his fingers than rapid or forceful movements. Aventurine’s hands had been, until then, resting on his shoulders and squeezing him occasionally. As he got closer, they came up to tangle in his hair, leaving Sunday with a pleasantly stinging scalp every time he tugged a little bit harder.

Aventurine came first, coating Sunday’s hand with release while clenching so tightly around him that it pushed the prince entirely over the edge. With a stuttered thrust deeper inside, he finished with a low groan. He realized only after he started to calm down that he’d bitten a bit too hard on Aventurine’s collar, but he wasn’t complaining.

“I think that’s the gentlest I’ve ever been fucked,” he said instead, lifting himself off of Sunday, but collapsing into his arms a moment after.

“I did not wish to hurt you. Was it not to your liking?”

“You’d be the first,” he scoffed quietly. “I believe the answer to your question is dirtying your hand. It was an observance, not a complaint.”

“I see. I do apologize though. I got carried away and left marks on your neck.”

“Hmm. Did you? It’s alright. I always wear high collars anyway,” he sighed.

Aventurine realized that he was being far too comfortable, laying against the prince and wrapped in his arms. Still his mind was muddled enough from the high of pleasure that he made no effort to move away even upon the realization. Sunday’s fingers were slowly running up his spine, a gentle caress he wasn’t deserving of, but he enjoyed all the same. He pressed his lips against the shoulder he was resting his face on, a simple kiss he knew better than to indulge in.

“I never told you you couldn’t, anyway,” he spoke after a few calm moments of silence. “I am no one important like your highness. Even if someone saw, no one would bat an eye at a few love bites on me.”

“I… Okay. As long as you do not mind. I suppose it is true that you-“ Sunday paused, brushing fingers over the brand on his neck.

It seemed to be a code or number of some sort. He could not understand why Aventurine would have such a mark. He couldn’t think of any practice in Asdana that resulted in the branding of human beings. Such a thing was reserved for livestock, and even then, more humane methods were far more commonly used. Considering he took such efforts to hide it, he was certain he had not received the marking willingly.

“It’s quite ugly, isn’t it,” Aventurine spoke, clearly knowing exactly what thoughts Sunday was having.

“The implication of its source is far uglier than the mark itself. It does not detract from your beauty.”

“My… beauty. You are rather generous with your compliments this evening.”

“You are very much deserving of them. I… I believe I favor you greatly, if I am honest.”

“Just what have I done to earn his highness’ favor?” Aventurine scoffed, pulling away enough to meet his eyes.

“You have done nothing, but it is yours. I do not understand myself,” Sunday admitted, taking to playing gently with the ends of his blonde hair. “I do not know why I wish to know about you the very things you would likely wish I remain ignorant of. I do not understand why I craved your touch so greatly, before I had even tasted it properly. That I wish for more when I have already sated myself with your body eludes logic, and even now, I know not why I dread the moment you decide you can no longer abide by my arms around you. I cannot deny it, even if I do not know the cause of it.”

“I… see,” Aventurine answered slowly, the prince’s words sobering him. “It seems I truly have corrupted the upstanding prince, for him to be so drawn by fleeting lust.”

“I do not think-“

“I should go before it gets too late. I shall do you the favor of not misinterpreting your words,” he muttered as he stood and started to dress.

Sunday was too stunned to react as Aventurine quickly pulled his clothes on. He watched in confusion, unsure what wrong he’d said that he’d reacted so suddenly. He hesitated until the moment Aventurine was walking out his door, but by then it was too late.

“Aventurine, wait!” he called, but he was gone.

Notes:

I just wanted to say thank you for the kind comments I've received so far. I was kind of unsure about posting this at first because I'm pretty new to Honkai Star Rail and its a bizarre story concept, but I'm happy it's being enjoyed, so thanks :)

Chapter 6

Aventurine stared up at the stone ceiling above him, eyes following the long crack residing there. Surely, such a thing was a hazard, wasn’t it? How could they allow such a thing to remain as it did? He sighed to himself, rolling onto his side in irritation. The cot was uncomfortable. Shouldn’t it be nicer? It was meant for residents of the castle, after all. What in the world was he even doing here?

More importantly, where was Ratio? How could the royal physician be contacted in the case of an emergency if he wasn’t where he was supposed to be? If his arrogance hadn’t gotten him ousted, surely his negligence would. He didn’t know what made him foolishly decide to seek out the most infuriating Intelligentsia guild member he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing. Just as he decided to think better of it however, the door opened and in walked in the most recent source of his admittedly misplaced frustrations.

“Gambler,” he greeted, surprise evident in his tone. “I seem to recall you stating that you would sooner bed Miss Topaz than ever grace my clinic.”

“Well… this isn’t your clinic, now is it? This is the royal physician's quarters in the castle. Not that the upkeep here is much better. Look there! How can the prince trust you for treatment if the ceiling is a mere tremor from collapsing upon him?”

Ratio barely spared a single glance upward at the crack Aventurine was pointing at. The gambler wore his irritation like a wound begging to be bandaged. He could scarcely guess at what would trouble him enough to actually seek out his company, or anyone else’s for that matter, so he chose not to prod at the bruise that would doubtlessly cause him to flee.

Still, there were other pains he could poke at.

“I do believe that crack has been there even longer than I have. Speaking of, I was under the impression such an ironic death to one of the royal family would do nothing but amuse you. Has something occurred to temper your opinion of our crown prince?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed immediately. “I simply would find it a pity if you were to lose your livelihood and good name to such an accident.”

“Ah, yes. Merely out of concern for me, then? Should I be flattered?”

“Ha! Ignore my warning then.”

“I doubt you came here to inspect the structural integrity of the castle, so pray tell what has brought you to my quarters?” Ratio finally asked with a sigh, deciding to no longer enable his avoidance.

“I… I was encouraged to stock a new product in my store and thought you may have some pertinent insight.”

“Is that so? What would this product be, exactly?”

“An aphrodisiac. As an apothecary yourself, I assume you have some knowledge about them. What would be safest for me to stock, what warnings I may need to provide, how it should be properly stored, etcetera.”

Ratio narrowed his eyes at the deceptive gambler in front of him, avoiding eye contact as he now sat upon the cot with legs crossed. He had a rather telling habit of curling in on himself whenever he felt particularly exposed. Lies fell from his lips as easily as water from a spring, with nary a tell, so for it to be so obvious at this moment meant whatever the lie was covering was distinctly personal. He set down the books he’d been carrying to fully regard Aventurine.

“I know for a fact that Miss Bonajade has suggested aphrodisiacs before, and that you have adamantly refused. One could understandably assume your refusal is due to your past experiences with them, and by extension would not blame you for continuing to avoid selling them. It seems out of character for you to change your mind so suddenly.”

“It is merely business. My personal feelings should not play into the products I carry,” Aventurine protested.

“I disagree. As I said, knowing how drugs have been misused against you, one could hardly expect you to stock them for them to be potentially misused by your customers.”

“Just give me the information I requested,” the gambler huffed, still refusing to look over at the doctor.

“And if I were to take the moral stance you’re forgoing and refuse?”

“Can’t you just- Look, I need it, okay?”

“Did she-”

“Not because of Jade. Is that good enough?”

“You know the payment I require, gambler. I will concede, but in turn I require a clear explanation.”

Aventurine fully turned his back to the doctor, staring out the small window next to the cot. There was a beautiful blue sky today, devoid of clouds. A perfect spring morning. Past the walls of the castle, the marketplace was bustling as people enjoyed the festivities, and merchants offered all sorts of food and wares to those at the festival. The Charmony Festival was a week-long celebration of the last decade of prosperity, a joyous occasion, and a bitter reminder that its organizer was being defiled by none other than himself.

“I… I have done something… deplorable.”

“You seem to think thus every other week. What is it now?” the doctor chastised.

“I… cannot get into details, for discretion's sake, but I have… I have gotten involved with a customer… and I believe I may have ruined him.”

“You have involved yourself with a customer? Why in the world would you-”

“I know, I know. I said I never would, and I never have but… I have. I shouldn’t have, but I have.”

“Alright, fine. That aside, what do you mean that you’ve ruined him?”

“He… is- was - an upright man, but… Look, he only came to my store out of curiosity, but he started to seek me out and I allowed it. I thought perhaps our arrangement would have scared him away and instead it seems I’ve only stoked his appetite. I need… I need something to- I need to remind him how depraved I really am, so he can go back to being the perfect man with his spotless reputation.”

“You see aphrodisiacs as that solution?”

“Not by themselves, certainly. I have a plan. Drugs are merely one part of it,” he shrugged, as if disinterested.

“This is a bizarre gamble, even for you. Have you even considered that perhaps, this person you’re meeting with was never so upright as you previously believed? Even if he was, I can hardly say that you’ve ruined him by indulging his desires. Such desires are purely natural. If you are unhappy with whatever arrangement you have with him, then end it. If you are satisfied, then let it stand as is. There’s no purpose in catastrophising the situation.”

“If I had wanted your advice, friend, I would have asked for it. I would much rather to acquire the aphrodisiacs from you, but if you will not provide them, I can request them from that woman’s wares. I can trust the safety of whatever you give me, so you are certainly my preference, but do not think you are my only option.”

“I see you are not to be dissuaded,” Ratio bitterly relented. It was clear by his tone how much he disapproved of Aventurine’s plan. “I will assist you, then. Are you aware of any allergies or illnesses that the person you are planning on dosing may have? It will help me choose the safest option.”

“You know very well that I don’t have any.”

“You are planning to take it yourself?”

“Of course I am. You really think I would drug someone else?”

“When you claim your intent is to prove your so-called depravity, yes! Have you gone mad? To actually consider taking aphrodisiacs, after- Wait, you damned gambler.”

Aventurine’s hand had just closed on the door handle when Ratio stopped him, still seething. Once the doctor had started scolding him, he made to leave. Knowing Aventurine would do as he threatened, and acquire what he wanted from someone less trustworthy, he unfortunately knew he had no choice but to oblige.

“Fine. Fine, damn it. I will make it for you, but only a single dose. I adamantly protest this course of action, but if you refuse to listen to me, the least I can do is try to ensure you do it as safely as possible. Assure me, at the very least, that you trust this person enough to be inebriated in their company.”

“I’m the untrustworthy one out of the two of us. You needn’t worry about me.”

“Quite the contrary. I dare say I am the only person who does worry about you, since you’ve not the mind to do so yourself.”

“I will come collect the medicine in person, the next time I schedule a meeting with him. For what it’s worth… thank you, friend.”

As soon as he opened the door to leave, he halted seeing the person on the other side of it. The crown prince, seemingly just as surprised to find the door opening just as he was reaching for it. His eyes quickly darted between the doctor and the shocked-still merchant, before Aventurine composed himself to slip by the prince without a word.

“A-Aventurine! Wait, please,” the prince called after him, but he did not so much as acknowledge it, continuing to walk away with hastened steps.

“You are acquainted with him, your highness?”

“Ah… I… Only just, doctor.”

“I see…” he hummed, quickly putting it together. “Perfect and upstanding indeed.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind it. A mere observation. Are you unwell, your highness? Or has something else brought you to me?”

He glanced back into the now empty hallway, as if the merchant may change his mind and return. His expression betrayed his hesitance, as he considered how best to explain his dilemma to the doctor. Considering Aventurine had once again fled, he knew he must have committed a grave misstep.

“Do you know Aventurine well, doctor?”

“I should say so. We’ve worked together for many years now.”

“If that is the case, perhaps…”

He took a deep breath, still not sure how to phrase his query. There was too much he wanted to know, and wasn’t sure how much of it could even be asked of the doctor. The biggest issue was that he’d done something to offend Aventurine, and didn’t know what or how to make amends, but nor did he know how to explain the situation enough for Ratio to give advice while being vague about the nature of his relationship.

“I fear I may have… caused him great offense,” he started, choosing his words carefully. “When last we met, I said something to him, and since that time he has fled from me as you just saw. I am not even certain what about my words troubled him, nor how to resolve my misstep. If you are well acquainted, perhaps you could provide some insight?”

“Perhaps… but I would need to know what it was you said to him.”

“Right, of course… That is… well…”

“If I may speak plainly, your highness?” Ratio sighed, realizing the reason for the prince’s hesitance.

“Yes, of course.”

“For how long have the two of you been lying together?”

“Wha- Pardon? How- Did he-”

“He said nothing of it, your highness. He merely mentioned that he had gotten involved with a customer, something he has always had a strict rule against. He of course made no allusion as to who that customer was, only that it was ‘an upright man’, in his words. However, between his purposefully vague answers to my questions, your own hesitance to elaborate, and the fact that he has just fled from you as you said, especially given what I know about the gambler… Someone with an intellect such as mine could easily put the pieces together.”

“I- I see…”

“Do not worry. I will say nothing of it. I am not the type to gossip, especially not about my patients.”

“Thank you.”

“So, now that we have gotten that out of the way, what is it that occurred?”

“We… We only laid together for the first time last night, I would like to clarify. It was afterward… I do not remember my exact words, but I confessed that I favored him, for reasons that even I am unaware.”

“He had implied this was a longer standing arrangement. Your involvement started last night?”

“Well, not quite. He- I assume you are aware of the wares he sells.”

“Obviously.”

“Right… Originally… I had requested for him to… teach me about the purpose of his wares. We have met a handful of times thus. Last night however…”

“I believe I understand,” Ratio deadpanned. “He seems to intend to meet you again, based on what he’s asked of me, so his running now… Let me ask you something, your highness. You claimed to favor him?”

“I do. I have thought about him frequently since our first meeting, and in ways I have not done before,” he admitted, hiding behind his feathers as he often did when feeling bashful.

Having heard both versions, Ratio couldn’t help but think that both of them were idiots. It was even more painful when acknowledging that neither of them were truly idiots, but merely acting idiotically. How their arrangement had started, he neither knew nor wanted to, but clearly both of them were unhappy with the circumstances and avoiding that discomfort for the sake of the other. He grumbled to himself, wondering how in the world he’d gotten dragged into this folly.

“Another question. Does your favor for him extend beyond mere lust?”

“Wh- What?”

“Do you hold affections for Aventurine, or is your interest merely to sate your natural desires?”

“I- I… I have no idea. I know little about him. We have only met a handful of times, and…”

“Do me a favor then. Figure it out. If you merely enjoy laying with him, I beg you, for his sake, to find another and end your arrangement. If you hold affections for him… then return to my quarters before you next meet, and I will give you the information you seek. Does that sound favorable?”

“The information I seek?”

“It is not something I am willing to tell to someone who has only a fleeting interest in him. Is there anything else you need of me, your highness, or did you only come here to ask about the gambler?”

“He was my intent, but- You have called him that a few times now. Gambler?”

“Ha! You truly do not know him well, then. That man is a compulsive gambler. I dare say even his involvement with you has become a complex game.”

Sunday quietly contemplated what he’d been told. Aventurine had mentioned their relationship to Ratio for some reason, though he had avoided revealing it was the prince he was meeting with. Ratio and Aventurine both had indicated that Sunday was far from the first to request such relations with him, and yet his were the first accepted, but the reason was… for some unknown game? He didn’t understand the implication, but he knew it left him feeling bitter. Was Ratio correct? Did he hold affections?

“I will consider your question and return with an answer,” he promised. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Good day, your highness.”

He shambled back to his chambers, standing idly in the center and staring at the bed where, just the evening before, he’d finally been granted the feeling of Aventurine in his arms. After he’d left, Sunday had spent much of the night contemplating, pacing his room for what might have been hours before cleaning the remaining mess and trying, unsuccessfully, to get some modicum of rest. He still had not managed to sleep, but had gone to the royal physician planning to interrogate him about Aventurine, only to lose his will the moment he saw the merchant opening the door.

For what reason had Aventurine been there? He seemingly made some request of Ratio, and it did not seem to be something the doctor was happy about, given his frustrated expression when Sunday first arrived. It did not seem like he was ill or injured however.

There was too much to consider. Did he have affections? The way Ratio had told him to end their arrangement otherwise had felt… concerned. It was clear that the doctor did harbor care for the merchant. That he would only answer Sunday’s questions should he also claim to care for him… left him conflicted. The knowledge that there was someone who cared for Aventurine in such a way filled him with inexplicable relief, but it also left him with burgeoning dread.

What if his affections were deemed unworthy once he admitted them? After all, he knew so little about Aventurine. Even his assumption of his origins had come from his multicolored eyes, and a once heard rumor from a traveling bard with skeptical credibility.

The fact was that he had not even remembered how he’d heard about the Avgin eyes, until earlier in the morning when he’d decided his inability to sleep was due to a need for fresh air and took a brief walk out of the castle, and found the bard drunkenly playing his lute while leant against a game stall. It was then that he recalled a previous performance, and subsequently questioned if the man he’d henceforth considered a Sigonian had ever even been from the desert kingdom across the sea. When he knew almost nothing about the man, how could he claim his interest was anything except physical desire?

He left his chambers and decided to join Gallagher overseeing the training for the melee scheduled the following afternoon. He found him berating a young knight in training for his recklessness, and subsequently ordering him to clean the armory as punishment. As soon as the youth saw the prince approaching, his complaint died on his tongue. He gave a half-hearted acceptance, politely bowing to the prince as he left to the armory.

“Damn kid,” Gallagher muttered to himself before he noticed Sunday behind him. “Ah, your highness. Come to observe?”

“I have. I also wished to discuss something with you. Accompany me?”

“I am at your disposal. What troubles you?” he asked, already walking with him to the shaded area.

“I am curious what your experience is with… amorous relationships.”

“Uh, well. I can say it’s been a while. I haven’t been with anyone since I lost Mikhail.”

“Ah, yes. My apologies. I forgot that you and he were lovers. Do you mind if I… if I inquired about that?”

“Go ahead, but why do you want to know?”

“Consider it curiosity, as I have never had such a relationship. How did you determine that your feelings for each other were… um…”

“Well, Mika and I were friends for most of our lives. Grew up together, fought together, knew everything there was to know about each other. We kind of just ended up falling together after having too much to drink, and that was that.”

“I see…”

“If I may be so bold, your highness… I doubt it’s just an idle wonder that you ask about this.”

“Perhaps. I may have… encountered a situation I am ill-equipped for. I hoped your story would enlighten me, but it seems the scenarios are too different.

“I could still offer my advice, if you request.”

“I have… become acquainted with someone. I know very little about them, and yet wish to know much. I was asked by someone they know if I hold affections for them, but I am uncertain.”

“Well, shit. No offense, your highness, but I really never thought anyone would ever catch your attention.”

“I suppose I cannot blame you for the assumption,” he exhaled, knowing very well that many people likely thought the same. “That aside, I have found myself unable to sort my thoughts. I do not know if it is indicative of my feelings, or if the fact that we are hardly more than strangers eliminates the possibility, and I am left nothing more than curious and confused.”

“So… if I’m understanding you correctly, your highness… You met this person recently. You wish to know more about them. You may hold affection for them, but you can’t tell because you don’t know much about them?”

“Precisely. I know their name. I know their occupation. I may know their place of origin, but even that I am uncertain of. I know they have a history they wish to hide, for potentially very understandable reasons. I know exactly one of their acquaintances. Outside of that… I know nothing.”

“Well… You are the prince. If it’s information you seek, I can find someone to-”

“No. No, that is not necessary. Going behind his back to find out would only serve to upset him.”

“Him, huh?”

“I- Ah… Pretend I did not slip there.”

“It makes no difference to me, your highness… but… his majesty…”

“I am aware. I do not know yet if this is even something to be concerned about.”

“Fair ‘nough, I suppose. Just seems out of character for you to not worry about every niggling detail.”

“In contrast to you, who does not worry about any details at all,” he scoffed. “Enough. I will have to think more on this.”

“Hey, birdy… It may be just my humble opinion, but… the amount you know about a person, or the amount of time… at the end of the day it’s all irrelevant. Mika and I, yeah, we knew each other all our lives, but I know this lass, Siobhan. She fell in love with her wife a mere week after meeting. Just… don’t get confused by things that don’t matter.”

“Thank you,” Sunday murmured after a long pause.

He looked out at the soldiers sparring as he considered his next steps. Gallagher had a point. He was already aware that whims of the heart could scarcely be dictated by logic. Yet, it was his first time experiencing it himself. Aside from that, there was also the issue of how their relationship had formed, the very crux of Ratio’s challenge. Was his interest merely in the merchant’s body?

He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think that was the case. If it were, surely his curiosity would have remained to the confines of his shop. He wouldn’t be wondering about Sigonia or the scar on his neck. He wouldn’t be thinking about his distaste for his guild representative or his friendship with the royal physician. He wouldn’t feel so wounded by the doctor’s reasonable accusation that the prince was using him so.

Still, he wanted to be certain, before he returned with his claim. He could not bear to think that he would claim affections and yet still be denied due to a perceived shallowness. He wanted to seek out Aventurine, but he feared he would just continue to flee. Ratio had mentioned he did intend for them to meet again, so at least he probably wouldn’t refuse another appointment, but how long would he have to wait? Could he sneak out of another evening meal, so soon after doing so last night? Would he have to wait until the festival was over? Perhaps it was wise, giving Aventurine a week of space. Their past meetings had been rather spread out, after all. There was no sense calling him a mere night after the last, and yet…

He wanted to see him.

Perhaps that was evidence enough. He wanted to see Aventurine, though he had just seen him. He wanted to see him, even if it did not result in a ‘demonstration’. He wanted to see him, to speak to him, even if he would not be allowed to touch him. Whatever rules the merchant proposed, he would abide by them if only he could be in his presence, hear his voice. Of everything he craved, he would accept whatever the man was willing to give him.

“Sister, have you some time?” he called through the door of her chambers.

“Ah- One moment!” he heard her reply a moment later, and then her voice, too muffled to hear through the door, continued to speak, though seemingly not for him. A few minutes later, she swung open the door in an almost frantic display. “Brother! What brings you to me?”

“Have I… interrupted something?”

“No, no. Not at all. Um… I was merely…” she glanced backward into her room. He heard a door close, perhaps to her bath. “Reading. I was reading.”

“Do you have company?”

“Ha! Why would you ask that?”

“I… Robin… I had thought we had agreed not to keep secrets between us. Surely you do not think I would shame you for-”

“Okay fine. Yes. I was entertaining a guest, but he’s- I mean they left just before you did.”

“Right… so the person hiding in your bathroom is not a guest?”

“There is no one in my bath!”

“Oh, really. Perhaps you could let me in then, and I will see for myself.”

“No! No, that’s really not…”

“This is unlike you Robin. Who is it that you are trying to hide from me of all people?”

“Why don’t we speak in the library? Given the festivities, it should be quiet there. You wished to discuss something, correct?”

“I did, but Robin-”

“Let’s go then,” she insisted, pushing him back and shutting her door quickly behind her, grabbing his hand and dragging him away with her.

“Robin-”

“Please, brother…”

He gave in long enough for her to drag him into the library, quite predictably empty aside from the single attendant, Misha, dutifully shelving tomes. She sat in one of the window chairs with a long sigh and he sat aside her, noting that young Misha was too far to hear their conversation. He let her sit for a few moments, but she declined to say anything.

“Who is he?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s leaving after the melee tomorrow.”

“How long have you-”

“He’s not from Asdana, brother. It’s just… We…”

“Robin, please know I am not meaning to direct judgement upon you. I am simply surprised.”

She pursed her lips as she considered his words. It took her a long time to weigh her options, but in the end, she seemingly relented. With another sigh and a shake of her head she finally decided to tell him everything.

“Do you recall that bounty hunter, Boothill? He’s come to the castle a number of times…”

“Boothill…”

Boothill was a bounty hunter with a troubling reputation. Incredibly skilled, but foul-mouthed and crass. No one knew where he was originally from or even what his true name was. He traveled all over and never failed to collect any bounty he accepted. They themselves had utilized his services on more than one occasion, but he would have never expected his sister to get involved with such a man.

“Since when?”

“Since… a few years ago?”

“A few years ? Robin! You have never thought to tell me?”

“I assumed you would not approve… considering who he is. I promise you, he is kinder than his reputation would leave you to believe.”

“Why him?”

“What?”

“I just… I can scarcely imagine what would have attracted you to someone like him.”

“Well, he has a rather charming side. He is rather silly at times, and incredibly endearing. He is handsome of course, and smarter than people often believe. I… I know all too well what it is like, to have people judge you based on appearance or title and be expected to fit into those assumptions no matter how flawed they may be. So does he. I cannot see him very often, but I care for him greatly.”

“I… I see…”

“Sunday, I assure you. He would do nothing to harm me. Please do not tell father.”

“Why would I ever do that, Robin?” he exhaled. “No matter my opinion of that hunter, I could not betray you like that.”

“Thank you.”

“Especially now, it would make myself a hypocrite to do so,” he admitted, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Pardon?”

“I… may have also involved myself with someone of ill-repute.”

“What? When? How? You?” Robin chirped, her excitement palpable.

“A merchant. The… The man I spoke to you about before. In truth, my interest in him was not so innocent as I may have implied. I… I am not certain, but I believe I may… hold affections for him.”

“Truly?”

“I do not know. I still know near nothing about him, aside from his touch. I dare say my relationship with him has even less foundation than yours with that… Boothill. It is that very reason I came to speak with you. I hoped you may help me… determine more definitively what it is I am feeling.”

“Oh, Sunday…” she cooed, a fond smile curling her lips. “Tell me about him then.”

“His name is Aventurine. He has these beautiful, bejeweled eyes that caught me instantly. He speaks politely but with an undertone as if I am the last person in the world he would wish to speak to. He is perhaps the loveliest man I’ve ever set eyes upon. He is also not from Asdana. I believe him to be from Sigonia, but I am not sure. He has never told me about it. I know naught about his past except that it must be an unpleasant one.”

“Aventurine. I believe I have met the man.”

“Have you?”

“Only briefly. He comes to the castle occasionally, I believe to make deliveries to any number of residents here.”

“Ah, yes. As his products are those that people may not wish to carry with them, he delivers his products in person when requested.”

“So, he is the one. You think you may love him?”

“I… I would not go that far. We have met only a handful of times. There is certainly interest, and there is potential for more, but… I wish to know more about him. I wish… I wish for much.”

“Does he know?”

“I told him I favored him, and he ran away from the confession.”

“He did?”

“I thought at first perhaps I had said something to offend him, as I have accidentally done so in the past, but now I am not so sure. Perhaps I had, or perhaps he fled for some other reason.”

“Is that all you had said? That you favored him?”

“Well, I had said so, and he had asked me what he had done to earn my favor, to which I explained he had done nothing, and that even I did not understand. I… well, I perhaps was more in depth than just that, but I think recounting my exact words would be somewhat embarrassing, even if just to you.”

She nodded and hummed, seemingly thinking through it to try and find where Aventurine might have taken offense enough to flee. He himself had spent much of his night considering the same and had come up with nothing, but he waited patiently in case Robin had better insight. After a few moments, her expression soured, and she looked warily back at her brother.

“Sunday, perchance… did you tell him this unprompted? I just mean… you said you’ve only met a handful of times. I wouldn’t imagine you to say so out of the blue, but at the same time I know you have little experience with such relationships.”

“I did not, I assure you. We were… Ahem. We were in bed together, actually,” he coughed, avoiding her widening eyes.

“Oh. I see… Well… Perhaps it was your uncertainty that offended him. Or perhaps it is the opposite. If he saw your relationship as nothing more than… a casual dalliance, he may have become wary when you mentioned seeking something more.”

“Do you have much experience with… casual dalliances?”

“Of course not! However, there are many who see no harm in such relationships, including friends of mine.”

“So this Boothill is no such arrangement?”

“Here I thought we had moved on to your affairs,” she tutted.

“Forgive me for struggling to move past a relationship my dear sister has been hiding from me for years .”

“I do apologize, but I expected you to react poorly. Perhaps it is good it took this long, until you had your own hidden affair, so you would not judge mine so harshly.”

“Very well. I concede. If you are happy with things… then I will concede. Do not expect me to trust him so easily on your word, however.”

“I suppose that is better than I had hoped for at least,” she huffed, shaking her head at him. “Now, back to your own troubles. Do you think this Aventurine assumed your… relationship was something confined to only your bedchambers?”

“Well… I suppose our arrangement was rather… but I cannot be sure. When I spoke to Dr. Ratio this morning, he seemed to imply that he would not agree to such a thing.”

“Dr. Ratio. You told our physician about this? Wait- Why would he even-“

“They are friends, it seems, he and Aventurine. I asked him for advice, seeing as he knows the man better than I. He specifically said if our arrangement was only one of sating physical needs, that I should move on from Aventurine, so I do not think he would believe that to be all I wanted from him, surely.”

“I… I’m sorry, brother. I fear I am now just as confused as you about the situation.”

“That is alright… You have already helped more than you think. I believe I have my answer now, at least. I do hold affection for him. I must, to be so concerned about the answer like this.”

He had suspected it already, and had received nothing but confirmations. He’d expected that something would show him otherwise, that his feelings were as shallow as basic lust, but he knew himself better than that. He still did not understand how it had happened, but he truly had come to care for Aventurine.

He penned a letter that evening, requesting Aventurine to meet with him at the end of the week, after the festival had ended. He waited eagerly for the confirmation of the appointment he’d also asked for, and received one two days later. With Aventurine’s written promise in his hand, he made way for the royal physician’s quarters, surer now of his answer than he had been even the day before.

Perhaps now, even if they had to come from Ratio, he could finally get some answers about the elusive merchant plaguing his mind.

Notes:

This chapter is just a bunch of yapping... sorry about that

Chapter 7

Dr. Ratio didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised when he opened his door to find the prince waiting there patiently. He’d not seen Aventurine since the last visit, but had received a letter indicating that he needed the aphrodisiac by the end of the week. Knowing they’d made an appointment to meet meant he was sure to hear from the prince some time before then as well. So he stepped aside to allow the prince to enter with a polite bow.

“How can I be of service to you today, your highness?” he asked, as if he didn’t know already exactly why he’d come. Understandably, Sunday waited for the door to be latched behind him to answer.

“I care for him. I can not rightly claim I feel love for him, as I still know him so little, but at the very least affection is something I can claim.”

“I am… relieved to hear that,” Ratio admitted honestly. While it was as he expected, there was a doubtful part of himself still concerned he’d gravely misread Sunday’s character.

“You are relieved? I was rather concerned you would disapprove.”

“Consider, for a moment, your highness. Aventurine has a strict rule to not involve himself with his customers, for many reasons which I’ll not waste my breath delving into. Despite that rule, he tells me that he in fact has gotten involved with someone, a person he will not tell me about for the sake of discretion. On my own, I am able to deduce that this other person is the crown prince of this kingdom, someone with a large amount of power that he could potentially leverage to coerce the gambler into an arrangement he would not normally agree to.”

“You- You thought that I-”

“It seemed something that you would not do, certainly, but I had to question if perhaps I was incorrect about the person I believed you to be. I am relieved my worry was unfounded.”

“I see…”

Sunday watched as Ratio walked over to a shelf filled with vials of different medicines and ingredients. The bottle he picked up was very small, and the liquid it contained colorless, as if it were just water. The vial was offered to him, and he hesitated before taking it. He looked curiously at the doctor, waiting for him to explain.

“That is what Aventurine had come to request from me. It is a potent aphrodisiac, one that he intends to use during your next meeting.”

“He… wishes to have me take this?”

“You, no. He intends to take it himself. Instead, I am giving it to you.”

“Why?”

“Before I answer, let me tell you something I believe to be pertinent. Aventurine has been requested to stock aphrodisiacs in his shop many times before in the past, and he has always refused. Why do you think that may be?”

“I… have no idea.”

“Aphrodisiacs, when used with the informed consent of all involved parties, are entirely harmless… well, within moderation. Any shrewd business man would hardly refuse to stock a product that their customers would be willing to purchase, and yet despite that, he has. The reason for this is simple. Informed consent.”

“He… He worries that people will misuse them?”

“He has seen ample evidence that these drugs are commonly used unfavorably, and has, in turn, very reasonably insisted not to be a source for them… until he came to my quarters claiming he had suddenly changed his mind. Of course I made clear my skepticism, and eventually he admitted his plans for this were personal in nature. I will not pretend to understand what that man is planning. I can only tell you what he said to me, which is that he believes he has ruined you, and plans to use this, somehow, to scare you off from whatever arrangement the two of you have made.”

“He… thinks he has ruined me?” Sunday repeated, furrowing his brows. Why would he think that?

“In his words: He was an upright man. I thought our arrangement would scare him away and instead it stoked his appetite. I need to remind him how depraved I am, so he can go back to being a perfect man,” Ratio recited. “Now, given what you also confessed to me, I am assuming whatever you said to him when claiming your favor led him to come to this conclusion, erroneous though it may be.”

He stared at the small vial and the innocuous liquid it contained. Ratio hadn’t said it, but it occurred to Sunday that perhaps, such drugs had been misused against Aventurine himself, and yet he planned to drink this anyway. He took a deep breath, swallowing the bitterness that bubbled in his throat. Had he done nothing but cause more problems for the merchant? Even if it wasn’t his intent, maybe Ratio’s accusation wasn’t so far off. Maybe it was simply because he was the prince that Aventurine had accepted their arrangement. Maybe, despite the many times he stated quite clearly that he was allowed to refuse him, Aventurine still felt obliged simply because of who Sunday was.

“When he asked me to procure this for him, I had attempted to refuse, but alas I am not the only person he can acquire them from, and he is infuriatingly stubborn. So, with no other choice, I formulated that dosage, and I hand it to you. You wished to know why. I… cannot simply stand by and allow that man to senselessly gamble with his own life as he so often tends to.”

“I understand. You give this to me so I may refuse to allow him to take it.”

“Precisely. I do acknowledge that he will not be happy with me giving it to you directly, so I additionally plan to provide him with a placebo. A vial of plain, scented water which I will claim is the drug. He probably will not drink it until he is in your presence, so the lie will not be revealed preemptively.”

Sunday took a moment, considering all of it. If Ratio simply gave him the placebo, and he took it without Sunday knowing what was going on, he would merely go back to confront Ratio. However, knowing about the swap and having the true drug in his possession, Sunday would have the ability to discuss things with him. It was a wise decision, on the doctor’s part. Still, he felt not nearly informed enough.

“May I ask you… are you aware of a… scar on his neck?”

“I am.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“That, your highness, is not my place to explain. I will simply say that… whatever assumptions you have made are likely not far from the truth. There are scarce few reasons why a man may end up with a brand on his neck. Is that really the most prevalent thing you have to ask me about him?”

“I suppose it occurs to me that… the brand, and his distaste for this drug may be rather connected.”

“A probable conclusion indeed.”

The prince thought back to all the small implications Aventurine had made. He was no longer a ‘whore’. His repeated prodding at Sunday’s innocence, claiming to defile him, to dirty him. His request to not be touched. His cautious gentleness with the prince, and his claim that his own experience was not so gentle. All of it painted a picture that Sunday already faintly suspected, but became clearer and clearer now with Ratio’s vague explanation. Especially with his accentuation on the words informed consent…

“I understand. Thank you, doctor.”

The evening he had scheduled for Aventurine to visit with him, he sat at the desk in his chambers, idly turning the small vial in his fingers. He waited patiently for the merchant to arrive, rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head. The sun was long set, and the room was only lit by candles slowly melting down. The one nearest to him, sitting on the desk, snuffed out as its wick became too short to hold a flame, just before he finally heard a knock upon his door. He quietly bade him enter without even lifting his gaze.

He clenched his fist, hiding the vial within his hand as Aventurine entered. There was no parcel in his hands today, but he could see his hand similarly curled around something small, likely an identical vial filled with the water Ratio had promised. So, then, his assumption had been correct. He would take what he thought was an aphrodisiac in Sunday’s presence, for a purpose unclear. He swiftly slid the true drug into his pocket as he stood and came around the desk.

“Did you not bring a toy?” he asked, despite knowing the answer.

“The product today is… a bit different. Actually, there is something I’ve been encouraged to stock, so I thought our arrangement would be the perfect grounds to test it. After all, I cannot sell something like this without knowing its effects.”

“Its effects?”

“It is a drug. An aphrodisiac,” he explained, revealing the small vial in his palm. “This is just a single dose for testing purposes.”

“You… wish me to take it so you can record the symptoms it causes? Is it safe?”

“It is safe, I assure you, but you will not be the one taking it. I wouldn’t dare to give your highness something like this. Rather, I will drink this, and we shall see how differently it feels for you to take me.”

Sunday frowned. He stepped closer to Aventurine and met his eyes. He did not appear nervous, but he couldn’t imagine that the merchant would truly be so unbothered by this idea. If his history with these drugs was as he thought, why would he decide to do this to himself? Was the idea of being held by Sunday truly so abysmal? He took the small vial from Aventurine, half expecting him to pull it away, but he did no such thing.

“You are certain it is safe?”

“I am. Dr. Ratio formulated it for me. There is no one I would trust more.”

“I see. My physician made this… but you will not allow me to take it?”

“I don’t think you should,” Aventurine frowned. “Something like that is not meant for someone like your highness.”

He tried to take the bottle back, but Sunday backed out of his reach. He paused, looking surprised. This was not how Sunday had planned on confronting him, but all that he had rehearsed had left him the moment he saw Aventurine. All he could think about was how he had, even if not intending to, pushed him into this arrangement with him. All the tenderness he’d believed he’d earned from the other was nothing more than an act, and knowing that was agonizing.

“What are you-”

“Do you have much experience with aphrodisiacs?”

“I… No, I do not. That is precisely why I decided to test this before stocking it. How else would I have the expertise I do with my products?” he laughed, but it sounded hollow.

“I see,” Sunday hummed, using his thumb to release the small cork sealing the vial.

Aventurine once again tried to take it from him, but with a quick turn, he downed the placebo instead. As Ratio said, it was just water, but with a scented additive that made it bitter. After swallowing it down, he turned back to the merchant who was staring at him, mouth agape. His eyes darted between the prince and the now empty vial in his hand. It was unexpected, how frightened he looked.

“Why did you- S-Spit it out, now!” he ordered, grabbing both sides of Sunday’s face.

“It’s already been swallowed.”

“Then open your mouth and I’ll make you vomit. If- If you spit it up it wont have a chance to take effect, so hurry and-”

“Why should I do that? Were you not about to do the same? You claimed it was safe.”

“Safe for me , but you- You idiot. Please just-”

He tried to force his mouth open, determined to make him spit the drug back up, but Sunday remained stubborn. The vial fell to the floor with a quiet clink as he took both of Aventurine’s wrists in his hand, forcing his arms downward. He turned them both around, caging Aventurine against his desk. He looked… scared, but not of him.

“Why would it be safe for you to take, but not me?”

“It just is. Your highness, seriously, you need to-”

“It’s already done, so you might as well explain.”

“I- It’s too strong a dose for someone who has not taken something like that before. It was made for me , you idiot,” he admitted, throat tight. Again he tried to reach for Sunday’s mouth, but he couldn’t escape his hands.

“What a thing to say for someone who has just claimed he too has no experience with it.”

“Okay, okay. I- I used to- I used to use them, alright? Often enough that I have a bit of a tolerance. I am sorry I lied, just please… Please spit it out. If you cannot make yourself vomit, I can help. Just open your mouth and I’ll…”

His words seemed to fade away as Sunday noticed the first tear fall. He was crying. He immediately let go of his wrists to wipe away the tears slipping down his cheeks. Boiling guilt burned his insides as he rushed to console the other. Without a thought to what he was doing, he pressed his lips against a still damp cheek, just under his eye.

“Do not cry. I am sorry,” he begged in a whisper. “It is fine. I am fine.”

“You have to-”

“It was just water. It is fine. I am sorry. I did not mean for this. He did not give you any drug, just water.”

“Wh-What?” Aventurine pushed him away, gawking. “What do you mean? Ratio-”

“He told me that you had asked for an aphrodisiac. He… He was adamant that he did not want to give it to you. I am sorry. I drank it because I knew it was nothing more than water. I did not expect you to react like this… I just… I apologize, truly. I was frustrated.”

There was silence between them as it sank in. Aventurine slowly brought a trembling hand to cup the prince’s cheek. He didn’t feel warm, nor was he flushed. It was possible it merely had not yet taken effect, but the longer they stood like that and he remained unchanged, the truer his words became. Still, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest with unresolved panic. Why did Sunday look so concerned? He had intended to upset him, but not like this. He thought perhaps he’d become disgusted. For a moment, after he’d emptied the vial and Aventurine started to feel frantic, he saw what he thought was anger in his eyes. For that moment, he thought he’d still succeeded, if not entirely how he’d planned. Such was usually how his luck played out.

He didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect Sunday’s anger to immediately wash away, replaced by soothing apologies. He didn’t expect a gentle kiss, or thumbs still rubbing against his face as tears continued to well. He didn’t expect the desire to be held, despite Sunday seemingly trying to cautiously hold back. His eyes fell to the floor, to the vial discarded by their feet. He hadn’t expected any of it, but how could he? Had Ratio told him everything? Why else would he be upset?

“How much do you know?” he exhaled, closing his eyes and grimacing at the faint break in his voice.

“Pardon?”

“What all did he tell you?”

Aventurine’s face was screwed up in the bitter realisation that he’d been betrayed. Eyes tightly closed, face angled away. His hand had sunk from Sunday’s cheek to the middle of his chest, holding them just slightly apart. The accusation wasn’t lost on Sunday. He let out a sigh, allowing a small distance between them.

“He told me very little, in fact. That you requested aphrodisiacs… specifically to show me how depraved you think you are, and that he did not wish to provide them. No matter how I asked, he would tell me no more.”

“Ha… Yeah, right. If that were true, why would you care if I took it or not?”

“Even if he would not tell me why, his concern was clearly not without reason. You yourself have told me enough to paint an unpleasant picture. I do not need it explained to me to assume that such drugs have likely been used against you in the past. What I do not understand is why, if that assumption is correct, would you decide to use them with me? Am I the same in your eyes as those who once took advantage? Have I done that to you as well?”

“What?” Aventurine wheezed, feeling like he was choking as he met Sunday’s eyes. Why did he seem so distressed?

“I told you again and again that you could refuse me. If you did not want this, any of this, why would you not say so? Just because I am the prince? Do my words mean less than my title?”

“I-”

“I said I did not wish to force you. I did not wish to coerce you, but you-”

He cut off his own words, covering his face and taking a few steps back. He needed to calm down. Aventurine stared blankly, leaning against the desk to support himself. He’d never seen the prince upset. He was always calm, if a little bashful. Even with all they’d done, he’d never seen this. He’d never seen him genuinely unraveled. This hadn’t been what he intended. Had he done this?

“Y-Your highness…”

“You should go,” Sunday said, face still covered but eerily calm.

“What?”

“I… I do not think it is wise to continue this any further.”

“What? You’re ending this just because of-”

“Is that not what you wanted?” he spat, voice raised just slightly. “You wanted to scare me off. You should have just said something. Rather than enduring my abuse you should have- No… No, I am not going to blame you. It is my fault. I should have considered things more carefully. I cannot undo what has occurred, but neither will I continue it. I promise I will not call for you again. Please… just leave.”

“Your highness-”

“Go.”

There was no room for argument in his tone. Aventurine felt numb as his legs carried him out of the room, as he closed the door quietly behind him. He felt queasy as he stood there, just outside the door, for what felt like ages. He could not will himself to continue, to take himself home. He startled as he heard a crash inside the room, the distinct sound of glass scattering across a stone floor. He stared at the door, trying to convince himself to move in any direction. To go back inside, to see what had broken, ensure the prince wasn’t hurt. To run away, to not look back, to do as ordered. Instead… he stood, he stared, frozen.

His face felt wet. The prince would not call for him again? It was what he wanted… It was what he had insisted he wanted. It was what he told Ratio he wanted… so why was he crying? Why was it painful? Why was the prince blaming himself? Aventurine was the one who had done wrong. He was the one to corrupt him. He was the one to make him upset. He was the one doing all of it, so why? Why? Why ?

His feet dragged against the floor as he slowly shambled down the hallways. The world felt as if it was spinning all around him. He leant against a wall, closing his eyes to will away the vertigo. His unending luck, playing out as it always did. Things did not occur exactly as planned, but the result was exactly what he’d bet on. The prince had turned away from him. It was exactly what he wagered. So where was the satisfaction? Once again, he’d won the game. He never lost.

Was this… not what you wanted?

Chapter 8

Ignoring the knocks on his door didn’t make for a fruitful business, but really, wasn’t it the fault of the customer knocking despite the sign next to the door indicating the shop was closed? Aventurine stared over at the door, amazed that he could even hear the knocking from here. Laying on the bed in the back room, as far from the door to the shop as he could be in this building, and yet the sound still carried. He closed his eyes, pinching his nose as a headache started to bloom.

The mattress was too thin. He could practically feel the wooden slats of the frame beneath. The knocking stopped as whoever was outside gave up. How urgent could it even be, that they’d knocked five whole times? He sold toys for pleasure. It wasn’t as if he had milk needed urgently for a meal half-cooked, or some other good that someone would potentially actually need. This entire shop was nothing more than a cruel joke thrust upon him by a sadistic woman with more power and money than she deserved.

He hadn’t opened his door in days. He’d barely even left the bed, uncomfortable as it was. How long had it been exactly? He wasn’t certain. It felt like maybe a week, but it wasn’t as if he’d really attempted to keep track. Every time he tried to sit up, to stand, to leave this room and do as he was expected, he felt so dizzy and nauseated that he gave up before he’d managed a single step. He dragged himself away a handful of times, either to relieve himself or to eat, but each occurrence was so miserable it almost didn’t feel worth it.

He had no idea what had caused this. Rather, he had too many ideas. Was it that he had fallen asleep outside, in the rain, when his legs felt too weak to carry him all the way home from the castle? Was it that he’d had far too much to drink the following day in a desperate attempt to silence all the conflicting thoughts arguing in his head. Was it that, while too intoxicated to carry himself, he’d stumbled into a garden, muddy with yesterday’s rain, and left it covered in muck and the leaves of unknown herbs. Perhaps it was all of it. Perhaps it was none of it.

He considered, for no longer than two minutes, writing a letter to Ratio. The idea was quickly dismissed. He’d have to leave the shop to have the letter delivered, and it seemed an impossible task. Besides… he couldn’t bear to think of requesting help from that doctor, after what had happened.

If he had just given him the damned aphrodisiac, if things had gone as he’d planned, he would have left Sunday feeling accomplished. Their arrangement would have ended without leaving him numb, and he would have made it home without issue. If his success had come the way he’d intended, he wouldn’t have been left feeling so… empty. Things had gone totally awry, and it was Ratio’s fault.

The knocking came again, louder this time. Just like the last, it was the same tempo. Three quick knocks, followed by a long pause, before another three quick knocks, again and again. It was rather irritating. Had the same person come back? Why did their knocks sound so frantic? How badly could they need his wares? It was after the fifth set of knocks that he heard a loud bang that was distinctly not a knock. Then another. Then the sound of cracking wood that made him sit up straight, despite how it made his head swim.

He tried to stand, but his legs folded beneath him. What was going on? Had someone broken the door down? Why couldn’t he move? He heard the inner door open as well, but he couldn’t make himself look up. He was so dizzy. He heard a voice, but it was muffled. Someone was there, but-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He opened his eyes with a groan. His head was pounding. The room was dim and his vision was blurry, so it took a little while for him to focus enough to see. Above him was a stone ceiling. Odd, considering the shop was all made of wood. He tried to sit up, but his arms felt too weak to hold him for long. As soon as he tried, however, he heard a melodic voice. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Not at first.

Silver hair and golden eyes appeared above him framed by the ornate halo ever behind the prince’s head. He truly did look like an angel, even in the low light. His hand was cool as it pressed against Aventurine’s forehead, and he let out a soft whine at the pleasant feeling. He hadn’t even realised he felt so warm. He tried to catch the hand as it pulled away, but his own hands were much slower. Sunday said something to him, but he couldn’t quite understand the words.

He was back a moment later, pressing a cold cloth against Aventurine’s face. His expression looked so soft that it made Aventurine wonder if it was a dream, but the ache he felt was real, as was the relief the cold water was offering him. His heavy eyes drifted closed again as he leant into Sunday’s touch.

“Should I call for the doctor again?” Sunday murmured to himself.

It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he was given medicine, but Aventurine’s fever was still so high. At least he was finally awake, but was that much better? He turned the cloth over, using the cooler side to press against Aventurine’s neck. The merchant mewled in response, leaning his head back to give him more access. Sunday took a deep breath, reminding himself that the man was out of his mind with illness. He hated that he even thought of anything else.

Ratio had said he’d be okay, but he couldn’t help but be worried. How could he not, finding him passed out on the floor in his shop, breathing shallowly and body overwarm? How could he not, when he’d sent Gallagher time and time again over the past two weeks to make a simple purchase, only to be told each time that the shop was closed? How could he not, when it took him two whole weeks to realise something was wrong, to go to his home and find it empty, to break into his shop to find him? How could he not, when he did not wake at all as he carried him to Ratio’s quarters, nor as Ratio gave him medicine and instructed the prince on how to care for him in the meantime, nor as he was carried to the prince’s own chambers or for three hours hence?

“Aventurine?” he voiced, letting out a breath of relief when the merchant’s eyes fluttered open. “How are you feeling? Should I call for Dr. Ratio again?”

“A beautiful dream…” he slurred blearily.

Sunday frowned. Obviously, that wasn’t the kind of answer he was hoping for. The cloth he was using to cool him had heated with the merchant’s body temperature. As he stood, intending to rinse and recool the cloth, Aventurine weakly caught his arm. His fingers brushed against his wrist, curling around before falling away. He watched him intently for a moment, noting that his eyes were once again closed. Had he fallen asleep again?

“Don’t go…”

“I am not going far. Just to rinse the cloth.”

“Please,” he whined.

He felt conflicted. He didn’t want to leave him alone, but more and more he felt like seeking out the physician was necessary. He would not even be asking him to stay if he was not so delirious. He probably didn’t even realise it was Sunday he was asking. He glanced up at his door, weighing the options. It was early evening. There was likely someone not too far away that he could have fetch Ratio for him so that he did not leave Aventurine for long. He brushed away some of the hair sticking to his face, unhappy with how hot he felt against his fingers.

“I am not going far,” he promised once again.

Calling out his door he caught the attention of a servant and ordered them to fetch the royal physician for him. After rinsing the cloth as he planned, he returned to the bed, sitting and dabbing it against his face gently. When he eventually heard a knock upon his door, he didn’t even wait for permission to be requested before calling for them to enter. Ratio entered without a word. Once again the cloth felt too warm in his hand.

“Has he gotten worse?” the doctor asked as he approached.

“I do not know. He certainly has not gotten better. He is awake, but so dazed he may as well not be. I do not think he even knows it is I caring for him.”

“Gambler?”

Aventurine responded with a weary hum. Ratio used the back of his hand to feel his forehead, noting his warmth with a frown. He gently used his thumb to pull open one of his eyes, seemingly considering the bleary look he gave as he blinked them open just after. Sunday chose to step aside, to let Ratio do what was needed. He left into the bathroom, once again rinsing out the washcloth.

“Do you know where you are?” he heard in the other room. “Why did you not call for me sooner if you fell ill? Foolish gambler…”

Aventurine woke to the sound of chirping birds and slowly opened his eyes. Upon seeing the stone ceiling, he turned his head to the side. He swallowed hard, sitting up as he realised that he was not in his shop. A damp rag fell as he did so, landing in his lap. He picked it up, confused. It started to come back to him, blurry images of Sunday and Ratio from the night before. He took his time sliding his legs off the prince’s bed and standing. His head was still swimming, but not nearly as badly as it had been for the past few days.

Looking around, he was indeed alone in the prince’s chambers. How had he ended up here? He vaguely remembered hearing someone break into the shop. Had that been the prince? Surely not, right? It didn’t seem like something Ratio would do either. Whoever it had been, they must have taken him to Ratio, who, for some reason then left him with Sunday. Why? Sunday had ended things between them, and surely Ratio was aware.

He idly looked over the belongings on the prince’s desk. He wasn’t normally the type to snoop, but something about being left on his own in the prince’s chambers had him feeling nosy. There were a handful of documents that didn’t seem worthy of his attention, a letter still sealed with a crest he didn’t recognize, a couple of tomes, some candles and some bottles. He looked at the books as he sat in Sunday’s chair. A stack of three, the one on top was a boring text about Melustanin, but the one on the bottom caught his attention.

The Geography of Sigonia

Why would he- How did he even know Aventurine was from Sigonia? He didn’t think he had ever said. Had Ratio told him? Even if he had, why would Sunday bother to read about that place? Especially when he himself had been the one to end their arrangement. Even if they were still meeting, it didn’t really make sense. What did it matter where Aventurine was from when his only use to him was for sex?

He stood back up, having to catch himself when the movement was slightly too quick and left him dizzy. One of the bottles had been knocked over by the jostling, so he quickly reached over to fix it, only to pause once his fingers curled around it. It was a small, clear vial sealed with a simple cork. Inside it was a similarly clear liquid resembling water. He picked up the bottle, holding it up to the sunlight streaming in through the wide windows behind him. There was the faintest glint of color as it caught the light, a sign of the oil it also contained. It couldn’t be, right?

He uncorked the bottle, bringing it to his nose to smell it. It was distinct, and sickeningly familiar. There was no doubt in his mind. He looked over as he heard the door open and met Sunday’s widening eyes. Before he could react, the prince had dropped the tray he was carrying and rushed over, knocking the vial out of his hands to spill across the floor.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, grabbing Aventurine by his shoulders.

“I… I was just…” he stammered, unsure why he felt so nervous suddenly. Why was Sunday reacting like that? “I was just seeing what it was.”

“And you thought the best way to do so was to drink it?”

“I wasn’t drinking it.”

“You had it uncorked and brought to your lips. Do you think I am a fool?”

“I- Not to my lips. I was smelling it. Why do you have an aphrodisiac in the first place? What were you planning to do with it?”

Sunday let out a breath, seemingly calming down. He let go of Aventurine and backed away just a step. He groaned quietly, covering his face with a hand for just a moment before shaking his head and turning away. He walked back to the doorway, to the tray of food on the ground. As he knelt, gathering what had scattered, he gave a quiet answer.

“That vial has been there since we last saw each other. I had no plans at all for it. It is too soon for you to be standing. Please return to the bed, and I will return shortly with fresh food.”

He walked back out the door, once again leaving Aventurine alone. After a moment, he sank back into Sunday’s chair, even more confused than before. He glanced over at the glass vial on the ground and the splattered aphrodisiac. Had he really had it that whole time? Why did he have it in the first place? When Ratio provided him with the fake, he had provided Sunday with the actual drug? Why do that at all?

He groaned, holding his head in his hands. He’d avoided thinking about it, as much as he could. He couldn’t wrap his head around Sunday’s anger that night, his concern, or even why it had hurt him so much to be kicked out the way he was. He knew he should just move on, but seeing Sunday again, being in his chambers again, made it all so much harder.

When the prince returned, Aventurine sank further down in his chair with the overwhelming weight of shame. He’d told him to go back to the bed, and he hadn’t. Yet, he said not a word. He set the tray on the desk in front of him, handing him a spoon directly.

“The food has all been approved by Dr. Ratio. It should not conflict with your medication, nor upset your nausea.”

“Oh… uh… Th- Thank you.”

He stared at the food. Despite what he’d just said, even the thought of eating made his stomach hurt. It looked and smelled good, and he felt guilty that the prince had gotten food for him not once, but twice, but he couldn’t move his hand. After a few moments, the prince let out a sigh.

“If I am making you uncomfortable, I will leave. Please eat. I know it has been days since you have done so.”

“W-Wait!” he stammered as Sunday turned to leave. He wasn’t entirely certain why he was even stopping him, but he didn’t want him to go. “It’s not that. You can stay.”

“You do not have to keep lying to me.”

“I’m not. I just… I’ll eat. Please don’t leave.”

Sunday didn’t say anything, but neither did he leave. Aventurine couldn’t will himself to look up at him, so he had no idea what kind of expression he wore. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to move his arm, taking a hesitant sip of the dark colored broth. As soon as he swallowed it, his stomach churned with an aching hunger, like giving it a taste had awoken a dormant reflex.

Once he’d started to feed himself, Sunday finally sat down, over on the bed. He risked a glance and was surprised to see him sitting with his elbows on his knees and face hidden by his hands. He looked upset, but Aventurine felt like he didn’t have the right to ask. He set down his spoon, and after a moment of silence, Sunday peeked up, eyes immediately aimed at the tray.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, seeing that the food hadn’t been finished.

“Were you the one who… who broke into the shop?”

“Well… Strictly speaking, Sir Gallagher was the one to break the door, but yes. He did so on my orders. I have already sent for it to be repaired, so do not worry.”

“Why?”

“I broke it. Of course it is my responsibility to-“

“Not that. Why did you break in?”

“I… I was worried about you,” he admitted after a pensive moment. “It turned out I was right to be.”

“I just… Why were you worried? Why were you there?”

“Please keep eating,” he muttered, ignoring Aventurine’s questions.

“Not unless you answer.”

“I will, but please,” he insisted, gesturing at the desk. Aventurine kept his eyes on the prince as he relented, taking another spoonful of soup. “I sent Gallagher to your shop a few days after we parted, to make a purchase on my behalf so that you would not have to see me. He returned and told me that there was a sign saying the store was closed for the day, so I bade him return the next day, and the next. Once two weeks had passed with your shop remaining closed, I became incredibly concerned. I went myself to knock on your door, but did not receive any response. I had Gallagher figure out where you lived to see if perchance you were there, but it appeared as if no one had been there in at least a week, so we returned to the shop. It occurred to me that perhaps you had gone out of the city for some reason, or maybe even that… that because of me, you had left Penacony for good… but I wanted to be certain it was that and not that you were ill or injured or… So, I ordered Gallagher to break in the door. When I found you on the floor… I feared the worst. You were breathing, thankfully, so I brought you here and sent for Dr. Ratio.”

“All because you couldn’t make a purchase?”

“The purchase was not the point. It was merely the only excuse I had to have someone check on you. I should not have let it go on for so long. When the shop had been closed for a mere week, I should have- Never mind.”

“You… wanted him to check on me? Why?”

“That… I cannot tell you.”

“What? Why ever not?”

“I fear the answer to that question would do nothing but burden you, and I have already resolved not to cause you any further troubles. For even this, bringing you to my chambers rather than leaving you in Dr. Ratio’s quarters, I must apologize. Despite knowing you should not wish to see me again, I selfishly could not leave you.”

Having finished his meal, Aventurine stared at the now empty tray. He didn’t want to leave him? He’d been the one to end their arrangement! Why did that make him so upset? His heart beat heavily in his chest, almost painfully so. Why and how did Sunday always manage to leave him feeling like this?

“Did Ratio mention if… whatever illness I came down with… if it is contagious?”

“Do not worry about that. If I end up falling ill due to treating you, it is only deserved.”

“How can I not worry if the crown prince becomes ill because of me? You are not one who should even be attending to someone like me.”

“I know. I apologize, again. I truly did intend to stay away where you would not have to see me. Yet, even though I knew well that there are no better hands to leave you in than the royal physician’s… It matters not. I will make no excuses for myself,” the prince said as he stood. “Seeing as your condition has improved, I will impose on you no longer. If you would like to return to your home, I will arrange someone to escort you. If you are feeling too weary however, I can take you to Dr. Ratio’s quarters, where he can continue caring for you.”

When Sunday reached for the tray, Aventurine grabbed his wrist. Why were the only choices offered both passing Aventurine off to someone else. What the hell did he mean, saying that he was the one imposing? Wasn’t Aventurine the one doing so? He was in his chambers, had been in his bed for presumably the whole night. Had Sunday slept next to him, or somewhere else?

“What if I want to stay here?” he asked, avoiding eye contact. “I- I mean- Ignore that. It was a jest. Admittedly, your bed is far more comfortable than the cot in Ratio’s-”

“Very well. I will call for him to attend to you here then.”

“What?”

Sunday took the tray and left without another word. Aventurine was left stunned and confused. He didn’t seriously expect Sunday to take his off-hand question seriously. Was he just going to return the tray to the kitchen and would return afterward? Was he really going to get Ratio? He stood unsteadily. He stared out at the window. The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was probably around midday. In the distance, he could see dark clouds. Would it rain later? Perhaps, as he said, he should just stay here for the time being.

There was a set of shelves against the wall packed full of books. He was certain the castle had a grand library, but Sunday even had numerous tomes in the confines of his chambers. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Everyone knew how studious the prince was. Everyone who had an ear for royal gossip, at any rate. He had always thought it impressive that while there were plenty of unfavorable whispers about the king and late queen, both the prince and princess had impeccable reputations. He had never believed it in the past, but after knowing him, he had to admit it was deserved.

The prince was just as regal and intelligent and kind and polite and handsome and every other favorable adjective that people used to describe him as his reputation claimed. The princess, while he’d never interacted with her directly, was bubbly and almost tooth-rottingly nice every time he’d seen her in passing or performance. It really made him wonder how the two of them came from that bastard of a king. It also made him wonder if Sunday knew about any of the things he did outside of the public eye.

Aventurine boredly flipped through a book from Sunday’s shelves, something he’d picked at random and was only halfway paying attention to. He sat on the bed, and watched how every time he looked up at the window, the sun fell little by little. It had to have been hours since Sunday had left, but he hadn’t returned. The sky was starting to darken when he was startled by a knock on the door. He stared at it for a few moments, unsure what to do. Should he answer it?

“Mr. Aventurine, sir? May I enter?” a feminine voice called through the door after another knock.

“Y-Yes?”

The door opened and a petite woman with curly brown hair entered, carrying a tray of food. She set the tray on Sunday’s desk before giving him a polite bow. He gawked at her silently. He had no idea how to react to this. Did he need to bow in return? As she straightened, she spoke again, her voice a gentle chirp.

“The royal physician will come to provide your medicine in about an hour. He requested that I tell you to finish your meal before then, as it will be more effective with a full stomach. Have a lovely evening, Mr. Aventurine.”

“Uh… Th-Thank you…”

She left him alone once again. That was when it really dawned on him that Sunday wouldn’t be returning. As he said, he’d told Ratio to attend to him, told a servant to bring him supper, and gone who knew where. He ate slowly, staring at the stack of books next to him on the desk, at the book on the bottom. It made no sense. He made no sense. Sunday made no sense to him at all.

When Ratio came in the first thing he checked was that Aventurine had in fact eaten his meal. As much as he wanted to complain about the doctor’s suspicion, he kept quiet through his scolding. After all, what he had believed to be only a handful of days had in fact been two weeks, according to Sunday. He, admittedly, hadn’t had much to eat in that time, enough that it was noticeable. It hadn’t been intentional, but he still couldn’t fault the doctor for thinking otherwise. Once Ratio had finished admonishing him, he forced him to drink a thick bitter mixture, the medicine for his fever, and asked him seemingly unending questions about his condition.

How long had he been feeling ill? What all symptoms did he have? Why had he not been eating? How was he feeling now? On and on. Aventurine briefly wondered if his bedside manner was this atrocious with all of his patients, or if he was just special. After Ratio had finished with his interrogation, he let out a sigh, shaking his head, and ordered Aventurine to rest. As he turned to leave, mentioning that he’d return in the morning with breakfast, Aventurine spewed the question he’d been holding in the whole time.

“Is Sunday not coming back?”

“I was under the impression that you had asked him not to.”

“Why would I do that? This is his room!”

“Naturally, I have no idea. All he said to me was that you did not wish to be near him. I was not even aware that your arrangement with him had ended.”

“Considering how you two connived against me, I assumed he would have told you such,” Aventurine scoffed. “You gave him the aphrodisiac?”

“I do not regret that, upset as it may make you. Do you not remember how you panicked the last time you believed someone had dosed your drink? You think taking drugs like that is wise? I am ever so thankful my trust in him to refuse you was warranted.”

“Yeah, well, it was so fucking warranted that he broke things off entirely!” he bit, his head starting to spin as he raised his voice. With a groan, he took a deep breath so the ache could ebb away. “He left me because of you.”

“Is that not exactly what you had been trying to make him do?” Ratio questioned, entirely confused by the outburst.

“I- Yes, but… but I… Now, he…”

“Gambler… Do you-”

“No! No. I just…” he bit his tongue.

He knew what Ratio was about to ask. It made no sense to him, how such a thing could even be considered. He was no fool, much as he allowed people to think it most days. The way he was contradicting himself, the way he ached when Sunday had severed their agreement, the relief he felt when he saw him again. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to believe such a thing was possible. Most of all, he could not accept it.

“I didn’t tell him I didn’t want to see him. He made that assumption himself.”

“Did he now?”

“He… I don’t know why. He… He… I don’t understand what he’s doing. Why he would… Why he would send someone to check on me, why he would dote on me just to leave once I’m awake, why he would… leave me in his chambers and not return.”

“You don’t understand? Really?” Ratio asked boredly.

“What do you mean?”

“I think the reason is rather obvious. I do believe he told you already. He favors you.”

“He… He only meant that he enjoys sleeping with me.”

“Is that what he said or what you assumed he meant?”

“He… He may as well have said it. There’s no other reason for him to have interest in me. All we have done together was… well… The only part of me he has known is my body. Of course he should not care for any of the rest.”

“Ah, to be such an adept liar that you fool even yourself,” Ratio lamented. “Honestly, gambler. Do you need me to say it so plainly for you? The prince has feelings for you. He confirmed as much for me before I gave him the aphrodisiac you requested.”

“Then why would he end things?”

“Perhaps that is why. You were willing to put yourself through great harm in order to have him end your arrangement. All he did was save you the trouble, and yet now you are unhappy with the decision? Do yourself a favor, gambler, or if not yourself then do it for me, so I won’t have to be dragged into these affairs any longer. Move on.”

“What?”

“If the prince has chosen to push you away, for your own sake, might I add… Then move on. You did not want the arrangement in the first place. Instead of getting caught up in unimportant whys , just take the mercy he’s given you, and continue to abide by the rules that you had set in the first place, not getting involved with customers.”

His words were harsh, but realistic. Aventurine knew that. He knew that he was right. There was no reason for him to feel bitter about how the prince was acting. The separation had gone even better than he planned, considering. He’d ended things completely, without Aventurine even needing to take the damn drug. He looked at the bottle still on the floor, the subtle stain left behind where it’d dried untouched. He curled up in the chair, hugging his knees to him and hiding his face. He cursed quietly to himself as he admitted what he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He had feelings for the prince.

Chapter 9

“Tell me, friend. Was it his highness who ordered this to be brought to me?” Aventurine asked off handedly as the same woman as yesterday placed his breakfast and a vial of medicine on the prince’s desk.

“No, sir. It was the royal physician. Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all… Do you happen to know where his highness is ?”

“I believe he is in the library, sir.”

“Of course he is,” he muttered under his breath. “Could you do me a favor, friend? I don’t have much of an appetite this morning. Could you take that instead to his highness and inform him that when you came here, his chambers were empty?”

“P-Pardon? I don’t think I understand your request, Mr. Aventurine.”

“Tell the prince that I am not here to receive my food,” he explained clearly. “It will not be a lie, really. I was just about to leave. I will tell Ra- uh, the physician myself, but I feel the prince should know his chambers are once again available to him.”

“Oh… I see…” she looked troubled, but rather than voice her concern, she gave a bow and took up the tray again. “Very well, sir. I will let him know.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as the door had shut behind her, he started to pull off his old sleeping clothes, tossing them to land in the corner of the room by the wardrobe. He sorted through the prince’s clothes, picking out something that he felt suited him. It was a loose top he couldn’t imagine the prince wearing, at least not in public, and a pair of sleek leather trousers that hugged his ass quite nicely, considering the prince was slightly broader than he was.

Regarding himself in the mirror, he confirmed that he looked quite good, despite the fact that he was still paler than normal and slightly gaunt. After a moment of debating his options, he decided he would pose himself on the desk, where Sunday would see him immediately upon opening the door. The bed would have been a more comfortable choice, but he didn’t want to risk the prince peeking in and missing him entirely.

He lifted himself onto the desktop, sitting with one of his legs dangling down and the other folded so he could lean coyly against his knee. He knew this was probably one of the stupider ideas he’d had in his life, but he needed to get Sunday’s attention and this was the only thing he could think of. Besides, the dumb ideas were usually the ones that ended up working the best. He waited patiently, though his right leg was beginning to ache from remaining so tightly folded for so long.

Before it had the chance to go numb, Sunday burst into the room looking frantic. He paused as he saw Aventurine sitting there on his desk, dressed in his clothes. He was stunned still and silent, and Aventurine had to fight not to grin. Instead he tilted his head with a hum, stretching the unmarred part of his neck. He slowly allowed his leg to fall, keeping his legs spread slightly and drawing his fingers teasingly up along the inside of his thigh. Sunday’s eyes watched the movement intently, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.

“I- You- What…”

“Hm?”

“I was told that you were gone. Marian had come to bring you breakfast, and you were not… Are those my clothes?”

“Well, I’d been in those bedclothes for the past few days. I needed to change into something cleaner, and I figured we’re close in size,” he shrugged. “If it’s a problem, you’re free to strip them off of me.”

Sunday’s face started to flush as his eyes once again ran up and down the body being all but presented to him. Aventurine slid off the desk’s surface smoothly and started to approach the prince. He was worried that Sunday would back away from him, but he stayed completely still until Aventurine was right before him. He reached up, gently sliding his arms to rest over Sunday’s shoulders and wrap around his neck. It pulled the other closer, until their noses were almost touching.

“What-”

“I was up all night last night, waiting for you to come back and crawl into bed with me. Where did you sleep?”

“If you were afraid that I would do so, you should have gone to Dr. Ratio’s quarters,” he frowned.

“What should I have done if I was hoping for it?”

“Pardon?”

“To think you made me go and deceive that poor servant just so I could see you. I hid in the wardrobe and everything,” he tutted. “What do you think I should do to punish his highness for making me stay up all right?”

He tilted his head, leaning closer as he asked. Once again he saw the prince tense and swallow, his face growing ever more red, but he did not push Aventurine away. Instead, one of the hands that had been dutifully by his side came up to feel his forehead, catching Aventurine off guard.

“What-”

“You do not have enough of a fever to be this delirious. Has something else gone wrong?” Sunday mumbled, almost as if he wasn’t even speaking to the merchant clinging to him.

“I’m perfectly in my right mind,” he scoffed, somewhat offended. Even though he’d successfully made him flustered, just how much willpower did the prince have to brush him off like this?

“I will fetch Dr. Ratio for you, as well as your breakfast and some fresh clothes. I apologize for not considering you would need them.”

He tried to pull away then, but Aventurine did not allow it. He slid his fingers into Sunday’s hair, holding the back of his head so he could go no farther. Aventurine considered it a challenge. An unspoken bet. I bet of ‘I can make you give in.’ He never lost.

“I already said I’m in my right mind. I don’t need Ratio. I need you.”

“Aventurine, please… You are ill, so I acknowledge you do not know what you are doing, but you are making this very difficult for me.”

“Hmm… Am I making it hard for you?” he asked, accentuating his words with a gentle tug against Sunday’s hair. “Tell me, your highness… from where does your curiosity about Sigonia come from?”

“What?”

Golden eyes darted to look over Aventurine’s shoulder at the desk, at the stack of three books, now two. The bottom book had been moved and was sitting open next to the small, now empty glass bottle. A subtle display acknowledging his attachment to the one provoking him at that moment. He met Aventurine’s eyes, the very ones that had caused his interest in that place.

“I heard a tale once, from a bard performing in the street. He spoke of Avgin beauties from Sigonia, with colorful eyes like gemstones held in sunlight. When I saw yours… it was the first thing I thought of,” he admitted.

“Ha! Really? Here I thought Ratio had just told you where I was from.”

“He did not. As I mentioned before, he has told me nothing about you.”

“Sure, you said that. You could have been lying to cover for him though.”

“I have never once lied to you.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Hmm… what a good boy,” he hummed into Sunday’s ear, reveling in how it affected him.

The blush that had been fading now deepened, even the tips of his ears tinted red, and he relaxed into Aventurine’s touch. It only lasted but a moment, before he remembered that he was trying to refuse him. Aventurine moved the hand not tangled in the prince’s hair to slowly glide up his neck, until his fingers were massaging the skin in between the back of his ear and the attachment of his wing. He let out a shuddering breath, and Aventurine couldn’t stop his grin this time.

“I’ve always wondered… Are your wings sensitive? I haven’t been acquainted with many halovians.”

“It… depends.”

“Oh? Depends on what?”

“What are you doing, Aventurine? I do not understand this behavior,” Sunday sighed.

“I thought I was being rather obvious. Are you going to make me spell it out for you?”

“I will admit I am not so oblivious not to see that you are trying to seduce me. What I cannot understand is why.”

“Why not? You’re handsome. You’re a prince,” Aventurine chuckled, “and I may be the only person in the world who knows just how pleasurable laying with you can be.”

“Have you taken something? Did you get someone to bring you alcohol or-“

“You really can’t believe I would do this sober?”

“You wanted to drug yourself the last time we met for this purpose! How could I believe anything else? I coerced you into an arrangement you had no desire for, pushed you into forgoing the rules you had set. Even if it was not my intention, it does not change the reality of the situation. You could not refuse me because I am the prince. If I had considered that sooner, you would not have had to… I do not understand this. Why are you trying to tempt me into hurting you? Is someone forcing you? Have you been blackmailed or bribed?”

Aventurine frowned. His eyes fell, seeing that both of Sunday’s hands were closed into fists at his sides. He really was restraining himself. Everything he was saying, it lined up with what Ratio suggested. He curled the fingers in his hair, tangling them enough that he could tug at the strands. He watched Sunday’s throat bob as his head was pulled back just slightly.

“You don’t have as much power over me as you think, your highness, ” Aventurine bit. “I’d rather say it’s the opposite. Do you have any idea how intoxicating it is, having the crown prince of Asdana at my whim and mercy? Having you ask me to bind you, making you kneel at my feet… Gods, you are such a good boy for me too.”

“A-Aventurine, I-”

“No. When I’m done, I will let go of your hair. Only then are you allowed to speak. Nod if you understand.”

The prince’s breaths quickened slightly, and after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded slightly. Not that he could move his head much more with the grip that Aventurine had on him. The merchant smiled, pleased, and even just that nearly had Sunday folding. Aventurine took a couple steps backward until he was leaning against the desk, forcing the prince to move with him.

“You think I was scared to say no to you because you’re royalty? There are no kings or princes where I’m from. I accepted our arrangement mostly because I wanted to see when you’d back out. I never really believed you’d actually go through with any of it. The innocent prince… as if he’d ever let a filthy merchant like myself touch him.”

“You are not-”

“Ah, ah,” Aventurine tutted, pulling on his hair as a warning. “You don’t speak.”

Sunday swallowed a whine. He bit his tongue and nodded again. The slightly glazed look in his eyes, his hands trembling with want, all of it was satisfying to see. How could the prince seriously think that he’d forced things, when he was so quick to obey?

“I did not dislike our arrangement. I was expecting you to end it, yes. I pushed things, hoping you would end it, but not for the reason you seem to think. I…” Aventurine paused, hesitant to reveal the true reason. He knew if he didn’t, the prince would go on equating himself to the men who branded him, so he took a deep breath and continued. “You were this perfect, innocent man and because I had indulged my curiosity, you were claiming to favor someone like me. Someone debauched… depraved… I knew that if we continued, I would continue to corrupt you like a growing stain, so… so I thought I would show you the darkness you were treading into before it got too deep. I expected you to become upset when I brought the aphrodisiac, but I expected the cause to be your own moral line rather than… rather than a misguided belief that I could not bear your touch.”

He let go of his hair, brushing away the tangles he’d caused. As he did so, Sunday remained silent. He opened his mouth, just once, before snapping it shut again. Aventurine let out a quiet chuckle, fondly smiling at the obedient prince.

“Are you waiting for permission to speak, even now that I’ve let go of your hair?” the merchant cooed. He nodded in affirmation. “Oh, such a good boy. You have permission.”

“You are not a stain,” he said immediately. “You are not dirty, or depraved, or any of those foul descriptors. You did not corrupt me. You did not darken me. I think, instead… Perhaps, indeed, I am better for it.”

“I don’t think you know what you are saying.”

“I know that my sister, who repeatedly claims that we are siblings who need keep no secrets between us, hid the man she cared deeply for from me for years because she feared my disapproval. My judgment. She feared that I would inform our father… and as much as I would like to think I would not have done so, I cannot confidently say that is the truth. I know that no one dares to speak a crass word where I may hear it, aside from a single man who does so only because he knows there is no threat to his livelihood. After all, not even the king would strip away the title of the late queen’s brother-in-law without grievous misdeed. I know that my birthright affords me more power than the common man, but I foolishly believed that if I strictly abided by my integrity rather than just doing as I pleased, that people would see that and know I am not a person to be feared. Instead, I was feared more for it. The ‘integrity’ I chained around my own wrists became viewed as a weapon, ready to be swung at any perceived slight. My own sister had feared me . I wanted to be a man better than my father and instead I became another she felt the need to hide from. I did not end our arrangement because I thought you dirty . I ended it because I could not bear that I was causing you harm.”

It was overwhelming, the way Aventurine’s heat was hammering in his chest. Sunday was looking at him so earnestly. With both hands cupping his neck, he pulled Sunday forward to close the small distance he’d allowed between them. He felt the muscles tense beneath his palms as he pressed their lips together. A long brewing desperation had him tilting his head and running his tongue along the prince’s lower lip, begging for something deeper. Always obedient, Sunday opened his mouth for him.

Already leaning against the desk, it was no struggle at all to hop back onto it, to curl his leg around Sunday and pull him even closer. He moaned as Sunday finally, finally touched him, curving his hands around Aventurine’s hips. When he pulled his hair this time, it was neither warning nor punishment, but just because he enjoyed the feeling of the strands between his fingers. When he pulled away from their kiss, the prince’s pupils were blown, black eating away at radiant gold.

“I am going to suggest we reestablish our arrangement, and like a good boy you are not going to accuse yourself of manipulating me into doing so. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“My good boy… Hmm, but I do think we need some new rules. After all, those old ones were only meant to discourage you like they had everyone else, but things have changed. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Rule number one is mostly unchanged. I am in charge, unless I specifically say that I want you to take control. If you desire control, you have to earn it. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Rule number two. I will choose which toys we use, if we use any, but if I suggest anything that makes you wary, you will say so right away. Even if we are in the middle of using it. I want you to tell me if we do anything you do not like. Do you agree?” Sunday nodded, and Aventurine clicked his tongue. “Use your words, good boy.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… Rule number three, that you cannot touch me… I rescind that completely. You can touch me however you like, whenever you like, unless I order you otherwise. You can leave marks. Whatever… but, just in case… I don’t like being choked, and I’m not a fan of pain. If I ever say you’re hurting me-”

“I would not,” Sunday interrupted. “I do not ever want to hurt you.”

“I know. I know, my good boy… but this is just in case. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“If I ever say you’re hurting me, you have to stop immediately. Do you agree?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“That’s all I have, unless you have something you want to add.”

“Just… Just one thing.”

“Hm? Go ahead,” Aventurine prompted when the prince did not continue.

“I know you just said that you would tell me if I hurt you, but… Rule two. It goes both ways. Do not force yourself to do anything you do not like. If I try to do something you do not like… please stop me.”

“Oh… How precious,” he laughed in response. “What is rule one, your highness?”

“You are in control.”

“Hmm… Good boy. You think I would allow you to do anything I don’t like?”

“That rule was in place before as well, and yet…”

Sunday trailed off, but they both knew how that sentence ended. Aventurine cupped his cheek, softly running his thumb under his eye. He had to laugh to himself at the prince’s insistence. So adamant to not cause any harm. Did he really have feelings for him as Ratio had said? He certainly looked concerned enough to convince him.

“Very well. I agree,” he relented. “Now, your highness… Don’t you think you’ve made me wait long enough? Making me go weeks without your touch. Such a cruel prince…”

“As much as I would like to… You refused your breakfast and you are still ill. You should eat and take your medicine. I will get it for you, so-“

“Has anyone ever told you you can be a bit of a buzzkill?”

“Constantly.”

“Anyways, I didn’t refuse my breakfast, I just pretended I wasn’t here to receive it.”

“Yes. Marian told me that was what you instructed her to say,” Sunday chided, unamused.

“Ah. What a snitch. I did it for her sake, you know. I didn’t want her to get in trouble for disobeying an order,” Aventurine huffed. Sunday shook his head at the antics.

“It was better for you that she was honest with me. Had I been under the impression that you were already gone, I would not have rushed here in hope of catching you before you left.”

“Oh… Well…”

“I will retrieve a meal for you. Drink this in the meantime,” he instructed, pulling out the vial of medicine he’d had in his pocket. “It is the medicine she was meant to give you. It seems it was a good idea for me to bring it with me when I came to find you.”

“This… This isn’t just an excuse for you to disappear again, right? You’re not going to have Miriam or whatever her name was come back in your stead, are you?” Aventurine muttered, looking off to the side to disguise his uncertainty.

“No, I will not. I… apologize. I was operating under the belief that my presence would be unpleasant for you. If you truly want me here, here I will be.”

With the assurance, Aventurine released his grip on Sunday, allowing him to leave. He leant back on the desk, tilting his head in such a way that almost had Sunday changing his mind. Still, as alluring as Aventurine was, it was not the right time. He forced himself to look away, and leave the room.

Aventurine let out a long groan, falling back completely against the desk’s surface now that he was alone. It wasn’t exactly as planned, but he did almost get what he wanted. He was rather hoping to see the prince’s resolute restraint snap for once. Instead, he received far more genuine honestly than he’d dared to hope for, the painful pulsing of his heart as it attempted to burst from his rib cage, and a postponement on his unresolved arousal. Still, he couldn’t complain. Their arrangement was back in place, and a much more appealing version than before.

One of these days, he would get to see the prince entirely unrestrained. They had time. He was rather good at teasing. Even the ever patient prince had to have a limit. He admittedly felt quite guilty, that that was his desire. His guilt didn’t make the want go away however.

He was still laying on top of the desk when the door opened, and he peeked up to see the beautiful as ever prince with red tinted cheeks, observing bashfully how Aventurine was displayed. Amused, he let his head fall back. He was curious what Sunday would do, and couldn’t stop himself from laughing when he came around, gently placing a tray of food by Aventurine’s shoulder before feeling his forehead for fever.

“I’m fine.”

“Then why are you laying on the desk?”

“Maybe I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about breakfast and take me against it.”

Sunday’s face instantly bloomed a deep red as he stammered around a retort. He gave up on his words, gesturing at the tray and moving to help Aventurine sit up and slide off the desk. He couldn’t hold back his snicker as he was guided into the chair and the tray was slid in front of him.

“I suppose I will take that as a no then, on changing your mind.”

“You are… quite brazen today,” Sunday coughed.

“Get used to it. I’m normally like this, when I’m not trying to prevent someone from getting the wrong idea,” he shrugged. “I suppose you did say you aren’t used to people talking about this stuff, aside from that uncle of yours.”

“Uncle? Ah, yes… I suppose Gallagher would technically count as my uncle…”

“What do you mean ‘technically’?”

“Neither of us have ever really considered him such, is all. He is one of the guard captains, and often serves as my personal knight when I must travel. He is… I suppose the closest thing I could consider a friend. The fact that he was married to the brother of the queen has rarely occurred to me.”

“Leave it to a royal to have such a complicated family tree.”

“Is it complicated?” Sunday questioned, confused.

“Ah… Maybe not. I guess I wouldn’t really know. I don’t know much about families, to be honest.”

“You… do not? I read that Sigonia was separated into nomadic tribes rather than cities, so when you said there was no monarchy that made sense. Is there also no family structure?”

“No, it’s not that. Rather…” Aventurine hesitated, stirring his soup contemplatively.

“Forgive me. If you do not wish to speak of it, you do not have to.”

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “Most of my family died before I had the chance to know them. I heard that the late queen passed away to illness when you and your sister were only five. Is that true?”

“Ah, yes. The few memories I have of her are… hazy, and unreliable.”

“Hm… I don’t even have that. I was told my father was killed before I was born, and my mother when I was still an infant. I don’t have memories of either, naturally. Just the stories told to me by my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had,” Aventurine corrected. When he did not elaborate, Sunday decided not to pry.

“I see. I cannot imagine. My condolences… I think if I lost Robin… It would devastate me.”

Aventurine wanted to say it didn’t bother him any more. He wanted to say it had been so long ago. He wanted to say that he had lived more years since her death than he’d spent with her. He wanted to say that it didn’t still sting like a fresh wound whenever he saw something that reminded him of her. He couldn’t.

“I think I should be the one apologizing. You didn’t want to know any of that. Things were going so well and now I’ve made it depressing.”

“Not at all. On the contrary, I would like to know anything and everything that you are willing to tell me… even the things that are… depressing , as you put it.”

“Careful, your highness. With words like that, I might start to think you have love for me,” he chuckled, though his smile was more of a grimace. The prince frowned at that, his reply a moment later sounding disheartened.

“Would that be so wrong?”

“I- Well that’s… I mean…” Aventurine stuttered, flustered. He dodged eye contact, staring instead at the food in front of him. “I should eat.”

“Your medicine too,” Sunday reminded with a sigh, noting the undisturbed bottle. “You still have not taken it.”

Notes:

Both of them are unrepentant yappers but I promise smut returns soon lol

Chapter 10

Sunday was infuriatingly stubborn, Aventurine quickly learned. Try as he might to tempt him, he never allowed more than a few kisses before he was pulling away, insisting they wait until Aventurine was fully better. He practically begged Ratio to tell the prince he was perfectly well, but unfortunately the doctor refused to lie. While his fever had in fact broken, the nausea and achiness lasted for days . He would have been satisfied with the fact that the prince had kept his promise to stay, if that hadn’t also been the most difficult part. Sleeping next to the man and having him dote on him every time he had a fit of weariness was incredibly trying for his patience. The man had even bathed him without relenting!

As soon as Ratio left the prince’s chambers after finally saying that Aventurine’s illness had completely gone, Aventurine grabbed the prince’s collar and yanked him in for a kiss. He did not try to stop him for long, parting his lips and deepening the kiss all while wrapping his arms around Aventurine. Still he pulled away far before Aventurine was ready, much to his chagrin.

“You heard the doctor. I’m fine. You have no excuse anymore,” Aventurine pouted.

Sunday’s golden eyes shined with amusement, and he shook his head. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed Aventurine’s impatience. His repeated attempts to tempt him had nearly succeeded many times, but any time he coughed or held his head due to vertigo was a stark reminder that the man was still ill. Some nagging part of him was still worried that Aventurine was merely acting due to fever, even once his temperature had long cooled. Now though, he was right. There was no further reason for him to refuse… except…

“Must I remind you that it is currently just past nine in the morning?” Sunday pointed out.

“Your point? Our dear, chaste prince may not know this, but there is no reason for pleasurable activities to be confined to evening hours.”

“I am aware, in fact, but unfortunately… To free my time to care for you, I have postponed a great number of meetings. One of which I cannot push any further, as the delegate leaves the city this evening. I would hope not to make him wait longer than necessary.”

“O-Oh… I, um, didn’t know you were…”

“I do not tell you this to make you feel guilty. It is merely a fact. Beside that, I also fear I am… ill-prepared to enjoy anything with you presently.”

“Ill-prepared?”

“I… had originally sent for Gallagher to purchase some lubrication for me, but the shop was… closed…” Sunday admitted sheepishly, looking away while his wings curled around to hide his face.

“Oh… What you bought before can’t have spoiled already, so… you… are out ?”

“So it seems… Look, just… Allow me to escort you home. Once I have had the chance to catch up on the responsibilities I’ve waylaid, I promise I will send you a letter expediently.”

“So you’re going to make me wait, not just until this evening, but for days longer,” Aventurine scoffed, crossing his arms.

“I… am sorry. I did not expect you to feel so impatient about this.”

He knew he was being petulant, but who could blame him? He’d experienced for the first time how good it felt lying with the prince over a month ago and been denied a second taste ever since. It would be one thing if said ‘second taste’ was completely off the table, such as when Sunday had called an end to their arrangement, but to have it reinstated and still be denied? He could accept that he was being greedy and still feel bitter about it.

“Five weeks,” he stated simply, his disappointment clear in his voice.

“Pardon?”

“It has been five weeks since I have been laid, and you are going to make me continue to wait for you without even telling me for how long,” he huffed. “I was not aware his highness could be so cruel.”

Aventurine was still pouting at him, head tilted, arms crossed, and hip cocked. He was the very picture of displeased, and Sunday wanted nothing more than to give in. Despite the temptation, he shook his head. He had responsibilities to attend to, which he had already uncharacteristically ignored for the man in front of him. Word had already gotten to his father that he’d delayed meetings, and it hadn’t escaped his notice that Sunday had not lingered long for their meals. He had yet to give a suitable excuse for either, though Robin, knowing the true reasons, had assisted in calling attention away from it. Still, if it lasted for much longer, he feared what the consequences may be.

“I apologize. I will do my best not to keep you waiting long.”

“But I won’t be seeing you tonight?”

“I… do not think that would be possible. I do not know how late into the night my tasks will take, and would not ask you to wait up for me. Aside from that… I… do not think it would be wise to leave the castle for the next few evenings, unless explicitly for work.”

“Hadn’t we already decided that I would come to you?” Aventurine muttered, glancing around his chambers.

“Ah, well…”

“What? You’re going to tell me that after the past week of me staying in your chambers that I shouldn’t be here?”

“Actually… yes. In theory, the only people who know you have been here at all are myself and Dr. Ratio, obviously, Marian… and Gallagher and Robin are also aware. I have been quite careful to ensure no other attendants came to clean or service, however… I fear my insistence on this matter may not have gone unnoticed. Those who know will not speak of it, I am sure… but if you happen to be seen visiting in the evening, and gods forbid someone sees you coming to my chambers…”

“Oh.”

“I am genuinely very sorry about all of this. I assure you, as soon as I have the available time, I will come to visit you. Whether at your shop, or your home. Whichever would be more comfortable for you.”

Sunday watched patiently as Aventurine seemed to think on his words, eventually letting out a relenting sigh. He looked away, toward the window and mumbled something to himself that Sunday couldn’t catch. He didn’t dare comment on it. When Aventurine looked back at him, he seemed remarkably less irritated than before.

“Fine. However, in exchange for my patience… hmm, what shall I do? Well, every day you make me wait will be more time I have to think of a suitable punishment.”

“I suppose I will have to accept,” Sunday hummed, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Aventurine’s ear. “I will do my best to earn your forgiveness. Allow me to briefly speak with Gallagher, and then I will return to escort you home.”

Aventurine replied with a reluctant hum of approval and the prince left him to do as he said. Already his mind was running with possibilities. Even though he knew the prince was being entirely reasonable, that he had clearly gone out of his way to care for him and there was truly no reason for him to be punished for the mere crime of having priorities , Aventurine was more than willing to be petty. Especially considering, despite how obstinate Aventurine was being, the prince hadn’t really complained.

Then, when they arrived at Aventurine’s residence and Sunday hastily pushed both of them through the door, slamming it shut before turning them around, caging Aventurine against it and stealing his breath in a dizzying kiss before pulling away, following it with a chaste peck, and leaving him just as quickly… he became even more certain that he wasn’t opposed to Aventurine’s threat. He slid down against the door, face warm and thoughts muddy as if his fever had returned with force, but this time he knew the cause. That damned prince, making a mess of him without even trying. He would definitely, definitely make him regret leaving him in this state.

That would have to wait, though. The prince wasn’t the only one who had to make up for lost time, and Aventurine had spent even longer than he, neglecting his duties. He picked himself up, got dressed in his own clothes, and left for his shop. The door had been replaced, making him wonder just how much that Gallagher had damaged the old one, the ‘closed’ sign hanging crooked on the new one. He straightened it before letting himself in and locking eyes with a jet black snake coiled on the counter.

Jade’s ‘pet’ flicked out its tongue at him before slithering down to the floor and out of the shop, doubtlessly to go inform its owner that he’d finally returned. It didn’t bode well for him that he’d been closed long enough for her to start surveilling the store. He kept himself busy until she came and let herself in, not even bothering to knock. She took a glance around boredly, as if she was just coming for a casual visit. It was all an act, he knew.

“Aventurine, darling… It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you. The sign outside says you’re closed?” she asked, voice filled with faux sweetness. He watched as she drew a finger along a shelf, flicking away some dust.

“I’ve been ill,” he answered simply. “I only returned here today after finally getting the okay from Ratio.”

“Oh, is that so? No wonder you’ve been closed for so long. Here I thought you’d skipped away without telling me. Of course, you wouldn’t dare do something like that, right?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” he bit.

“Of course,” she grinned wickedly. “You can understand my concern, though. It’s unlike you to stay closed for so many days, and then there are all these rumors going around…”

“What? What rumors?”

“Oh, have you not heard them? I suppose that makes sense, if you truly have been ill. Word on the street was that people saw you being dragged away by a crown guard accompanied by the prince. Some said that you had been arrested, others said it looked less like an arrest and more like a concerned bachelor rescuing his beloved,” she tittered. “Of course, if you had been arrested, I would have heard about it, so I did wonder. I thought to myself, perhaps that conniving boy thought he would seduce the prince to escape his debt to me. I’m glad to see my concerns were unwarranted.”

“I’ve heard his highness is rather prudish,”  Aventurine scoffed, rolling his eyes for added effect. “As if his highness would get involved with the likes of me. I’ve never even met the crown prince.”

“Hmm? So the rumors are completely false ?” Jade questioned with obvious disbelief. “He did not carry you out of here?”

“I wouldn’t know. I was unconscious, I guess. All I remember is waking up in Ratio’s clinic. He said nothing of it, so I assumed he had brought me there himself, but perhaps he had his highness do so.”

“Interesting… but why, pray tell, would the prince himself collect you?”

“You’re asking me? I didn’t even know he had until you just told me. Ratio is the royal physician. Maybe he expressed his concerns after I failed to show up for our appointment and his highness performed a wellness check as a favor.”

“I see. I wasn’t aware the good doctor was so close with the prince.”

“Neither was I,” Aventurine sighed, wanting more than anything for this conversation to be over.

“How fortunate you were then, that he found you when your illness was so dire. That luck of yours really is incredible. Oh, but what a pity. With how long the store has been closed, will you be able to pay this month’s dividends? If not-“

“I’ll be fine,” he snapped before she could finish her sentence.

“Touchy, touchy,” she chided, her smirk never wavering. “I was simply going to offer you some aid, if you needed it.”

“Well, I don’t. I’ll be fine. You’ll get your payment when it’s due.”

“It’s only a week away, you know…”

“I’m aware.”

“If you’re so certain, I suppose I’ll leave you be. Don’t hesitate to call on me should you come up short, however.”

“I already stated it won’t be a problem. Perhaps you should consult Ratio as well, for those hearing issues.”

Someone who didn’t know Lady Bonajade as well as he did probably would have mistaken her patient smile and twinkling eyes as kindness… but he was not so naive. Her wicked grin was one of sadistic amusement. Her offer of ‘aid’ was a not-so-gentle reminder that she owned him, and always would, and would happily dig him deeper under her thumb. He wasn’t fool enough to ever take her offers, nor was he desperate enough to. He had more than enough alfalfa to his name… Well, more than enough to pay his dividends and pay for whatever else he needed. To buy himself back however, he doubted he’d ever have enough.

That evening, as he undressed for the night, he fiddled with the shirt of his bedclothes contemplatively. He wasn’t certain if he’d managed to convince Jade that he and the prince were uninvolved. He wasn’t particularly concerned about the existing rumors. They’d fade without attention, especially because they were baseless. He hadn’t been arrested, obviously, and his acquaintanceship with the royal physician would be excuse enough for almost any other citizen… but Lady Bonajade was harder to fool than most, and she had snakes everywhere. He took a deep breath, setting aside his bedclothes and turning back to his wardrobe.

This would likely turn out to be a terrible idea, but he needed two things right now. Assurance, and a distraction. He knew where and from whom he could get both, it was just a matter of reaching him without risking either of their discovery. Sunday, with who knew how many eyes on him, and Aventurine with a serpentine threat. He dressed in clothes far more drab than he would ever wear normally and wrapped his hair in a bandana. Tinted lenses covered his notable eyes, and any of his other typical accessories were left behind. In a satchel, he put together a few things he may or may not need, and, sufficiently disguised and confident in his ability to travel unnoticed in the moonlight, he made his way to the castle.

Sunday had been understandably concerned about Aventurine being seen, coming or going from his room, but little did he know the merchant was very practiced at moving around guarded areas completely unseen. He slipped through hallways being noticed by neither guard nor servant until he was letting himself silently into the, thankfully unlocked, bedchambers of the crown prince. He tutted to himself as he did so, thinking that perhaps it had been a bit too easy and perhaps the castle needed to improve its security. He removed his glasses and bandana, setting them on the desk with his satchel. It was already late, and he had no idea at what point the prince would be returning, but it didn’t matter. He was prepared to wait. What was a few hours when compared to the days he was meant to endure?

He chuckled to himself in the moment of brevity. How would the prince react to him being here? Would he be scolded? He wouldn’t be turned away again, right? The doubts clawed their way in. Perhaps Sunday had only been pretending to want him. Perhaps the reason he’d been so adamant was because his claims of desire were just meant to placate Aventurine until he could get rid of him. These thoughts made no sense, obviously. Aventurine knew that. He’d been brought to the castle precisely because Sunday cared about him. Neither was the prince the type to make empty promises. His every reason had been justifiable. Still, the negativity wriggled in and left him aching.

He pulled out the length of rope he’d brought with him, coiling it loosely in his hands. He wasn’t certain whether or not it would be used. He’d brought it, in case it felt an appropriate punishment for the prince who’d made him wait so long, to make him wait in turn. Despite that however, he felt the need to indulge in something softer, the very thing Sunday had once given him a taste of. Something… entirely foreign to him, even with his droves of carnal experience.

He was in the middle of winding the rope around his other hand, having gone back and forth twice already, when he heard the door quietly open behind him. He turned and was greeted with Sunday’s stunned expression, golden eyes wide with shock as they sank to the rope in his hands. He smirked, moving closer with a veneer of false confidence as the door clicked shut.

“What are you doing here?” Sunday exhaled, still lost in his surprise.

“I couldn’t wait.”

Aventurine reached past the prince, securing the lock behind him. Sunday swallowed, staring unabashedly at Aventurine’s slow, smooth movements, like a prowling feline. The fingers not currently wrapped in cord reached up, grazing along his jaw so gently it tickled. Every word of admonishment he considered died before even reaching his throat. No candles were lit, so the only light in the room came from the moon shining through the window, or faint flickers of torchlight from the courtyard below. It made the man in front of him look even more ethereal. A radiant beauty that needed no light to shine upon him.

“You-” he choked, trying to convince himself to scold the other and still falling short. “You sh- should not have…”

“I know… but as I said, I couldn’t wait. Worry not. No one saw me… I even wore a disguise this time,” he noted, nodding his head to the glasses sitting on the desk while simultaneously gesturing to his plain attire. “Though, to be honest… it was not just because of this.

Aventurine sighed, turning away from the prince and letting the cord he’d been holding drop on the desk. He then turned again, hopping up to sit atop it and crossing his legs. He looked concerned about something. His eyes were directed down and away, his lip being pulled at by his own teeth. Sunday approached him as he waited for him to explain. It wasn’t until he was near enough to touch, until his hand brushed against his raised knee that he looked back at him and started to speak.

“Do not send any letters to me at the guildhouse. If you must send a letter, address it to my home, and don’t use your family seal. Don’t sign it either. Or write anything identifiable.”

“Aventurine?”

“Don’t show up at the shop or my house, ever. Not even in disguise. I will come to you. I can get here without being seen, I promise, so…”

“Did something happen?”

“No. Well… not yet. I just…” he bit down even harder on his lip. He knew he shouldn’t tell him, shouldn’t even want to… but…

“Ah! Aventurine, you-” Sunday panicked, quickly tugging at Aventurine’s lip with his thumb. It was when he obediently opened that he realised he tasted blood. “What has happened? If I can help at all, I-”

“You can help by obeying orders. Just… if anyone ever asks, you do not know me. You have only met me when you carried me from the shop at Ratio’s request.”

“Okay, but… please, Aventurine. What has happened?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I am sure that is the case,” Sunday sighed before shaking his head, “but if this is something that concerns me as well, do you not think I should know about it?”

“I… suppose…”

Aventurine took a deep breath. How much would he have to say to explain the situation? Could he get away with just saying that there was a threatening someone who was suspicious of him? Would he need to divulge who? Would he need to say the reason for her suspicions? Or why it even mattered? Their relationship, his history? How much was necessary? Would he know who Lady Bonajade was? It was certainly possible. He at least had seen her before, exiting Aventurine’s shop, but he hadn’t said anything about it.

“Someone I know, someone who doesn’t like me very much, heard that you were seen carrying me from the shop. Apparently, the rumor is that I was being arrested, but that person knows that was not the case, and… accused me of… trying to seduce you for… in order to get an advantage over them. It is a rather petty personal conflict. Nothing for you to worry about, but… they are conniving and willing to stoop very low to get what they want. I believe I managed to convince them we’ve never met, but just in case… I know how to evade their watch. You, however, do not. I can come to you without being seen. We just… I will be very careful, I promise.”

“You are being threatened,” Sunday grimaced. It wasn’t a question.

“I can handle things on my own. I just wanted to warn you. They aren’t the type to indulge rumors without evidence, so I just have to ensure neither of us provides any such evidence. Hence why I came in person… but… I did mean it, when I said I couldn’t wait, as well. Surely you won’t tell me to leave when I took such lengths to see you?”

He’d intended for the question to come off jokingly, a gentle rib against Sunday’s previous persistence, but even he could hear the shaking hesitance in his voice. Sunday’s frown deepened, evidently recognizing the nagging fear that he would be once again abandoned, even if he did not know its source. It was excessively gentle, the way he leaned in, cupping Aventurine’s cheek and touching their foreheads together. Their noses brushed together and Sunday inhaled Aventurine’s quickened breaths.

“May I kiss you?”

The permission wasn’t needed, and it made Aventurine’s heart pound that it was asked for anyway. That he was actually waiting for his answer, that he would actually pull away should he be told no, all of it struck Aventurine with a frightening need he wasn’t prepared for. He nodded so Sunday wouldn’t hear in his voice just how much the simple question was affecting him. Sunday’s lips were soft and filled him with soothing warmth. His tongue tasted of bitter coffee, not a drink Aventurine was fond of, but one he craved in only this instance.

Aventurine smiled to himself, noticing how handsy Sunday had become now that he’d been given permission. His hands slid down his arms before curling around to his back, pulling Aventurine closer. He grunted when doing so pressed Aventurine’s knee into his stomach. He huffed as he pulled away, glancing downward at the still crossed legs. It was an entrancing mix of gentle and forceful when Sunday parted his legs and slotted himself between them. His lips were pressed against his neck immediately afterward.

Sunday could feel his pulse against his tongue. Aventurine wasn’t the type to make a lot of noise, so he reveled in every small gasp and hum he was granted. He decided not to linger on the things Aventurine was keeping from him, the details he refused to say. If this was all he could do to make him feel better, he would throw himself whole-heartedly into it. He ground their hips together, delighting in the startled moan he caused. He felt fingers at the back of his neck, playing with his hair.

“Is this to function as my punishment for before?” he asked as one of his hands landed on the desktop, hitting the rope.

“I was still deciding,” Aventurine muttered.

“Is that so?”

“Mm… I don’t think it's needed right now. Right now, I just… gods, I just need you to fuck me,” he whined, head falling back.

“What do you want me to do?” Sunday prompted lowly.

“Whatever you want. Just… do anything.”

“Are you asking me to take control?”

He was nosing at Aventurine’s neck, the question rumbling at his ear. Aventurine sucked in a sharp breath. This wasn’t his plan for this evening, but he didn’t want to think. He nodded, swallowing hard. He didn’t think he would have ever trusted someone to have control over him in bed, but… but oddly, Sunday felt safe. His lips pressed gently against Aventurine’s jaw. The warm breath tickling his skin made him shudder.

“I believe it was you who said ‘Use your words, good boy.’”

“Fuck,” Aventurine groaned, pulling at Sunday’s hair. “Yes, please… just… please…”

Even when Sunday curled his hands under Aventurine’s thighs and picked him up, it was a soft, endearing motion. He turned them around, carrying him over to the bed and setting him down just as gently. His hands slid up his side, fingers pressing into his skin while he dragged up the fabric of his shirt. It was pulled over his head and tossed away in a manner almost uncharacteristic of the usually careful prince. Hands left his body to work on Sunday’s own buttons, but he wasn’t given the opportunity to watch as Sunday captured his lips again.

Sunday’s knee nudged the back of his thigh, folding his leg up to make more room for the prince.  He leant back to let his shirt and jacket fall from his shoulders and Aventurine took the moment to admire the prince’s radiance. Smooth, toned skin, entrancing eyes, and the bronze halo behind his head, backlit by the moon. He’d thought it before, but the prince really was unfairly attractive. Those golden eyes trailed down his own bare torso, the prince’s hands smoothly massaging his sides with undeserved reverence. He took deep breaths as fingers pressed against his ribs and a small frown pulled at Sunday’s lips.

The prince leant down, leaving soft kisses along Aventurine’s clavicle, slowly trailing downward. His breath hitched when Sunday flattened his tongue against his chest, running it over a nipple before closing his lips around it. He wasn’t particularly sensitive there, but sensitive enough for it to punch a small gasp out of him. He tightened his grip on the other’s hair when he felt teeth, biting enough to tease but not to hurt. He moved on before long, nipping and kissing the skin as he went down his ribs to his stomach. He let out an embarrassing whine when the back of Sunday’s hand brushed over the front of his tented pants.

His trousers were peeled off his legs as if Sunday was unwrapping an expensive delicacy. Slowly, with his hands brushing gently down the entire length of his legs, massaging his ankles briefly with his thumbs. He hadn’t worn underclothes, which Sunday raised a brow at, but he said nothing. His lips pressed against the inside of one of his ankles, slowly moving upward this time.

Some part of Aventurine had fully expected Sunday to act more aggressively once permitted control. Despite their past experiences indicating otherwise, he figured his slow gentle act was one out of an excess of caution and a desire to remain obedient. Yet, even when told he could do whatever he wished, he lavished attention on Aventurine as if he was deserving of the worship. He was trembling and overeager long before Sunday’s mouth made it anywhere near his aching member. When warm lips were wrapped around it, he snapped prematurely, releasing into Sunday’s mouth without even having a chance to give warning. Then, before he could recover enough to apologize, he heard the quiet laughter from the prince.

“You really were impatient,” he chuckled pleasantly, not mocking.

“At the rate you’re going,” he huffed, “I’ll have recovered twice over by the time you even remove your trousers.”

“Forgive me,” he grinned, kissing Aventurine’s hip. “I suppose I am indulging a bit, to make up for missed time.”

“I would think that would make you as impatient as me.”

“On the contrary. It makes me wish to burn every detail of you into my memory while I have you at my disposal. I do not know when again we will have this time.”

“Well, if you take too much longer, I may get too impatient to allow you this indulgence,” Aventurine warned, a lopsided smile curling his lips.

Sunday glanced back at the desk, at the satchel atop it. He left another light peck on the merchant’s leg before standing and digging through the bag to find a vial of lubrication. There were a couple other items in the bag, but he decided not to question them unless Aventurine brought them up first. When he returned to the bed, Aventurine was half-way sitting up, resting on his elbows.

He reached out, pulling Sunday forward by the belt until they were falling together. He figured his time in control was over when Aventurine flipped them so he was on top, sitting on Sunday’s waist. The hand resting on his chest kept him from sitting up. Lithe fingers took the vial from him, and Aventurine tilted his head for a moment, as if deciding what to do.

“Since you have made me wait so long, it is now your turn,” he hummed. “I am going to prepare myself, and you will do nothing but watch. Hands up, rest them above your head.”

Sunday quickly obliged, bringing his arms up so his wrists were crossed over each other just above where his head rested. Aventurine smiled down at him, pleased. He ran his fingers along his neck, across his shoulder, and then teasingly up his arms until he was tapping on one of his palms.

“Your hands are going to stay right there. If you move them at all without permission, then I will bind you, and make you wait even longer. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

As if specifically to tempt him into disobeying, Aventurine then turned around, straddling him backwards and just within reach. After pouring lubrication over his fingers, he used his other hand to spread his cheeks, granting Sunday a direct view of his entrance as he slid a finger inside. He had to clench his fists to keep his hands in place. He watched in awe as the ring of muscle stretched around one finger, then two. He groaned when Aventurine moved the hand that had once been pulling a cheek aside to instead tease him through his trousers, rubbing against the bulge in front of him.

By the time a third finger joined the other two Sunday was having to clutch his own hair to keep his hands in place. Aventurine had undone his belt and shoved down his trousers just enough to be able to wrap his hand around him. He jolted when Aventurine suddenly squeezed him harder, at the same time that the fingers pumping into him halted. He wanted so much to hold him, but he remained obedient, not even speaking in case that was also not allowed.

“Aw, look at you, whining like a little puppy,” Aventurine cooed as he turned back around. “Do you want it that badly?”

He nodded, tensing as Aventurine’s hands ran over his torso. They smoothed upward along his arms, up to where they were still crossed, as ordered. He took one of Sunday’s wrists, pulling his arm down and bringing his hand to touch Aventurine’s thigh. He bent down to kiss him before lightly running his lips over the prince’s jaw, up to his ear.

“Good boy,” he whispered, tugging on his earring with his teeth. “Go ahead. Take your reward.”

Sunday sat up to embrace Aventurine, pulling him in for a kiss while the hand that had been on his leg blindly felt for the bottle of lubrication. He had to pull away again when he failed to find it, and the merchant chuckled to himself at his newfound haste. That rush was only directed at himself, however. Once he had coated his member and positioned himself under Aventurine properly, he slowed again. The hands on the merchant's hips served as a guiding suggestion rather than a grip intended to forcefully move him.

Aventurine sank down onto his length, letting out a shaking exhale once he was fully seated. Sunday waited patiently for him to adjust, fingers gently massaging his sides while his mouth sucked and nipped at every inch of his neck. He rolled his hips experimentally after a moment, groaning lightly at how full he felt. Sunday, likely out of an excess of caution, still did not move his hips, so Aventurine was the one to raise himself.

If the prince would not be rough with him, he could do it himself. He slammed back down, making Sunday moan loudly and the hands on his sides squeeze him tightly. He pulled Sunday’s head back with a forceful grip in his hair, forcing him to make eye contact as he started to ride him. His jaw was slack and eyes glassy, looking like he was entirely lost to the pleasure. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing him like that, to knowing he was the only one who ever had.

“Open your mouth more,” he ordered, and Sunday immediately obliged.

He pressed two of his fingers against his tongue. His mind felt hazy as the prince closed his lips around them, starting to suck without even needing to be told. He watched Sunday’s wings flutter when he praised him, and couldn’t help but let another ‘good boy’ fall from his lips at the sight.

One of Sunday’s hands curled around the back of his shoulder, helping him in pulling him down to meet his thrusts as he started to grow more and more frantic, chasing his release. He slid his tongue between the fingers in his mouth, tilting his head to the side as Aventurine’s grip loosened on his hair. He used that hand to brush along the bend of Sunday’s wing, forever fascinated by the soft feathers. The wing twitched at the touch. He pressed his fingers further into Sunday’s mouth, wondering for a moment if it would make him gag, but he took it without complaint. A moan vibrated around them as he pulled him down even harder.

It nearly felt like Sunday was in his stomach as he wrapped his arms around him, holding him down while he filled him with warm fluids. Aventurine freed his fingers from the prince’s mouth, claiming it for himself and drinking in his soft whining moans from the source. Sunday rolled his hips as he started to come down, making Aventurine shudder. He was so close, and the prince was so deep, but then he was pulling out, holding Aventurine’s thighs as he did so. He didn’t make him wait long though, replacing his member with his fingers. He curled them just right so they brushed against his prostate.

He continued to press right there until Aventurine was shaking against him, releasing onto his stomach with a gasping wail. It took him a while to come back to himself and catch his breath. He realised after a moment that Sunday had laid him on the bed and was rubbing a hand soothingly along his spine. His other arm was beneath Aventurine’s head and Aventurine’s left leg was trapped between both of Sunday’s own. Rather than being uncomfortable, however, all tangled together like so… it was warm. It felt… calming. It felt safe.

“Aventurine?” he spoke up as he noticed the merchant’s breaths slowing.

“Hmm?”

“I… think I am not yet satisfied,” he muttered, turning them so that he was hovering just above Aventurine. It caught him by surprise, but it only lasted a moment before he was grinning, pulling the prince down for a kiss.

“Then, your highness, perhaps you should do something about that.”

Notes:

I'm sorry if you like Jade but... she gives me a wary feeling and she makes for a good villain.

Chapter 11

“What are you doing here again, fool?” Aventurine sighed, walking back into his shop as the petite, pigtailed girl skipped jovially behind him. “I thought I already told you I’m not interested in whatever strange games you’re plotting.”

“Not a game, not this time. Not an invitation either,” Sparkle whistled. “Though I still don’t understand why you never take it. Surely working for the tavern would be better than living as an IPC dog.”

“So what are you here for?” he asked again, ignoring the insult.

“A purchase. This is a store, isn’t it?” she giggled. “Hmm… Let’s see… Some ropes would be fun, maybe a whip? Has that snake ever used hers on you?”

“Don’t make me throw you out of here, fool.”

“Oh calm down. It’s just a joke. Oh, and how about… something from that chicken-wing prince.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he questioned carefully. Her knowing about the prince was only slightly less terrible than Jade knowing.

“Word on the street is that you were carried out of here by him and one of his hounds, oh, a week ago? So how’d you do it, huh? Did the little peacock flaunt his feathers for the prince and-“

“Just stop, now. You know nothing. I happen to be acquainted with his royal physician, who apparently told the prince he was unable to contact me, and so they came here for a wellness check. I was in the back passed out with a fever. I’ve never even technically met the prince, so stop running your mouth.”

It was the same lie he’d given Jade. Sparkle hated the IPC even more than he did, so really anything said between them probably wouldn’t get back to that woman, but he knew it was better to be excessively cautious. It wasn’t exactly like he really trusted the fool, either. The only thing you could ever trust with Sparkle, was that she would always act completely unhinged no matter the situation. The trademark of a Masked Fool. She giggled, clearly unconvinced, dancing in circles to music only she could hear.

“Tell me, is the prince like, a total pervert? The most buttoned up people usually are, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he deadpanned, knowing it was best to just not feed into her whims. “Do you really want to purchase something or are you just here to bother me?”

“You know, we could help each other out for once, instead of you being so hostile all the time.”

“And exactly what kind of ‘help’ do you think you can offer me?”

“Well, if I know who you’ve been getting on your knees for, I’m sure I’m not the only one,” she sang. “Those aren’t snake bites on your neck right now, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time, right?”

He used his hand to cover some of the higher bruises on his neck, even though she’d clearly already seen them. Not even the high collars he already wore were high enough to cover everything the prince had left him with. She snickered behind her hand, obviously amused. Still, he wasn’t particularly worried. No matter what she was thinking, the marks he left could have come from anyone.

“All I’m asking is a simple trade of information. A little entertainment. I’m so curious how that chicken wing boy gets down and dirty, and in exchange… I can tell you something that is guaranteed to get that serpent off your neck.”

“Thanks, fool, but no thanks. Not only do I not need your help, but I can’t provide you with what you're asking for. I already said I have no involvement with the prince. I can’t sate your perverted curiosity, and even if, theoretically, I could, I wouldn’t. What good would it do me for even more rumors to start flying?”

“I promise to keep it to myself! You know my word is good, lil’ peacock,” she pouted. “Come on. Aren’t we friends?”

“Not in the slightest,” he scoffed. “If you're not going to buy anything, then leave.”

“What a shame. Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself how she plans to swallow up that little castle bird,” she taunted, twirling on her heel and making her way to the door.

He knew better than to respond. She was probably bluffing. Jade had only come and see him the day before and he’d done a good job of convincing her. Besides, how would Sparkle even know if Jade was planning something. It was probably an empty taunt. Yet… as soon as she reached out for the door, he called out to stop her.

“Wait!” he relented, groaning as soon as he’s done so. “What do you mean by that?”

“Hmm? Oh nothing. It’s none of your business anyways, since you’re so uninvolved, right?”

“Fine. Maybe, maybe I have met with the prince. Once. Maybe . What is Jade plotting?”

“I’ll tell you… but only if you give me more details,” she grinned back at him, quickly returning to the counter. “Promise?”

“Sure, but I’ll only tell you what your information is worth. So, you first, fool.”

“Fair is fair,” she chirped with a giggle. “That serpent lady has been meeting with his majesty for a while now. People think she’s vying for marriage. She’s quite a bit older than the chicken wing boy, sure, but she is an eligible lady from an influential family, and she has connections beyond Asdana. Word’s been brewing of conflict with Melustanin, and his majesty is worried his armies might not be enough if actual war breaks, but the prince hasn’t cooperated with bedding the Melustanin princess to wrap things up in a neat, peaceful little bow. So, Lady Bonajade is hoping to sink her teeth into him by offering her many friends to the king.”

“Jade isn’t the marriage type. Nice try, fool.”

“She doesn’t have to be. You know how good she is at controlling people. She gets the prince under her thumb, it doesn’t really matter how. She’ll be Asdana’s new Queen. If you’re the one warming the prince's bed though, gives her even more motivation, doesn’t it? Killing a dove and a peacock with one gemstone.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, what she was suggesting was credible. Jade had a lot of power over a lot of people, and she knew well how best to leverage it. He didn’t know if being queen would even be a goal that appealed to her, but it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. Technically, Jade was not the one running things at the IPC, but she may as well be, far as he was concerned. He didn’t know if there was truth to anything else Sparkle had said. He hadn’t heard about conflict with Melustanin or the prince refusing proposals, but he did know that the prince was not involved with anyone romantically, nor sexually besides himself.

“So, go on. It’s your turn, Avgin. Tell me about the prince. Is he a total freak? Is it true Halovians can mind control people? Does he use it on you?”

 

---

 

Sunday was exhausted, but even as he finished his fifth cup of coffee, he knew he only had himself to blame. He had arranged his schedule so tightly that his meetings started at dawn even when he knew he likely wouldn’t get to bed until after midnight. Then, when he got to his room shortly after one in the morning, as predicted, and found Aventurine there… he decided to forgo sleep entirely. They’d indulged in each other until color started to return to the sky, and Sunday had to rush through washing and dressing to arrive on time to his meeting with the high chancellor.

He sincerely hoped that Aventurine had been able to leave safely, as he hadn’t been able to see him out. He’d promised him that he would be fine, that he could leave unseen, but he couldn’t help but worry. After all, he had seemed so terrified of whomever it was threatening him. Yet, he would tell Sunday next to nothing about it. He could theorize about possible reasons or culprits all he wanted, but it was a purposeless endeavor. He could not act upon mere suspicions, and he was doubtful Aventurine would give him any confirmation even if confronted.

He let out a tired groan as the words in front of him started to blur. Thankfully his paperwork hadn’t piled up much, as he had been able to work on it while caring for Aventurine. In truth, he likely did not need to push himself to rearrange all his meetings into the past two days, but there was some guilt gnawing at him for having delayed them to begin with. With only one meeting remaining, scheduled the day after tomorrow, he’d caught up on everything rather quickly. Yet, he still had not figured out how to explain his actions to his father. He’d kept himself busy enough that he had not seen the king at all the past two days, but it was not something he could delay forever.

He had been seen outside of his room enough that he didn’t think he could claim his own illness, nor had things been hectic enough that he could claim he was busy with other matters. There was also the matter that he had been seen publicly, taking Aventurine from his shop. The explanation for that at least had been provided by Aventurine himself. He had apparently claimed that he had missed an appointment with Ratio, who had requested the prince send someone to do a wellness check. It was a clever twisting of the truth, one he planned to also tell to anyone who asked. Outside of that, however, he was unsure what lies to tell.

He would be spending the entirety of his day tomorrow at the church, but the day after? After the one remaining meeting, things would be back to business as usual. Even if he had been able to adeptly make up for the days he spent largely ignoring his usual responsibilities, he doubted he’d be left alone for the mishap. Despite contemplating it in every spare moment, he could come up with no excuse.

In the end, all his stressing was for naught. When he sat down to eat supper with Robin and his father, two days later, not a word of his temporary slacking was said. In fact, his father said nothing at all as he greeted him, as he sat, as they ate. It was not until the king stood to depart, always leaving well before him and Robin, that he said anything at all.

“Do not let it happen again,” he chided, taking his leave.

Robin gave him an odd look, seemingly unaware what their father was referring to. He sat with his head in his hands for a few moments, swirling between relief and despair. He should have considered it a good thing, that the king had opted to ignore his behavior, but instead it just struck him as bleeding disappointment. Robin’s hand, softly patting his shoulder brought him out of it.

“You already know I set my duties aside to care for… that man. I could not tell him the reason why, but nor could I come up with a suitable excuse,” Sunday explained.

“Frankly, you’re allowed to take a few days for yourself if you need them. Honestly, it was not even that much,” she hummed. “I will say it again, his standards for you are too high, as are yours for yourself. I have long since given up on trying to reach his measure.”

“Yes, but I- It is not so easy for me to do so.”

“Enough of that. How is that man doing now?”

“I… cannot say, truthfully. His illness subsided, and our relationship is… less tenuous than before. He alluded to some issues, but would not tell me about them. It sounds like he is being threatened, but he did not want me to help.”

“I see… Is it something you could have Gallagher look into?”

“Perhaps, but… I have only just managed to… straighten out a previous misunderstanding between us. I do not wish to overstep and potentially cause another.”

“So, don’t get caught.”

“Robin…”

“What? Want me to send a letter to Boothill?”

“Robin!” he scolded. “No. I will… I will try to speak with Aventurine and decide what to do from there. I do not need you to… to contact a bounty hunter on my behalf for what is currently little more than a suspicion.”

“Alright. I will let the matter drop, but the offer stands should you need it.”

“I… I appreciate it.”

He followed Aventurine’s instructions perfectly, sending him a letter on plain parchment with neither his name nor seal, simply requesting a meeting at the usual place, at the usual time, on the next evening and sending it to his home. There was nothing within or without that would denote it as coming from a member of the royal family, nor rightly anything that would explicitly be for Aventurine either. He hoped it would be enough to sate Aventurine’s concerns, but he would not know until the merchant came to see him.

The evening that Aventurine was due to come, he paced across his room, eager and impatient. It was less so for their activities and more for the opportunity to speak with him. He was anxious about the letter, especially since he was granted no reply. He just had to trust that Aventurine would be arriving at all.

It was after the forty-third circuit of his chambers that the door opened and quickly clicked closed, Aventurine having slipped in almost silently. His hair and face were covered by a dark colored scarf and his eyes concealed with colored glasses. Both were removed almost immediately upon him seeing the prince already inside and waiting for him.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had even seen my letter,” Sunday admitted quietly, “or if perhaps I was too vague about requesting you.”

“Well, the ‘usual time’ for us is… rather varied, admittedly. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me just some time after sundown or after midnight. I apologize if I made you wait long.”

“It is that you are here at all that matters, not how long I’ve waited. It is you that does not like to wait,” the prince smiled, curling his fingers around a lock of Aventurine’s hair fondly. “I missed you.”

“I- Um… Oh…” Aventurine stammered, his face feeling unusually warm. “I- I brought something for us to try. I mean, of course I did. That’s the whole reason we- Never mind.”

“Before that,” Sunday stopped him, holding the hand that had just gone to reach into his satchel. “I wanted to talk a bit.”

Aventurine let Sunday guide him, walking them both over to the bed and sitting him down. After sitting next to him, Sunday captured his lips. The prince’s hands quickly found his hips, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt to feel the skin beneath. He relaxed into the touch, into the kiss. Then, as soon as Aventurine pushed him back to slide into his lap, Sunday pulled away. Aventurine gave him a curious look as he settled so he was straddling the prince.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around to rest on his shoulders.

“I did. I do , but I- I missed you, as well,” he answered, clearing his throat sheepishly. “I am concerned about what you mentioned when we last met. I know that you had said you can handle things on your own and I also know that you likely wish not to speak about it, but I cannot ignore it. This… disguise of yours, it is not for my benefit. If you can truly traverse the castle without being seen, then such a disguise should not be necessary, so I believe it to be due to the person threatening you.”

“You aren’t wrong… but what does it matter?”

“I do not offer this because I think you incapable of dealing with this without my aid, but if there is anything I can do to help, I would like to be allowed to-”

“Your highness, you can’t help me. Just leave it be.”

“Do you say that simply because you do not wish for my help or because you think I would not provide it?”

“You would not offer if you didn’t plan to follow through, I know. If you would like me to speak it plainly… There is truthfully nothing you can do. Your position, your power, your wealth… none of it is of use to me. That person…” Aventurine sighed, considering his words. “Answer something for me, your highness. The question is relevant to the situation, I assure you. Have you… been refusing marriage arrangements?”

“I- I have, yes. Pray tell, how is this relevant?”

“I am surprised. As dutiful as you are… why haven’t you gotten married?”

“I am not without my rebellions,” Sunday admitted, wings fluttering and calling attention to the piercings there. “It is true that since I have come of age, I have had countless arrangements proposed, and I have refused repeatedly. Perhaps it is naive of me but… I cannot fathom a marriage with someone I am barely acquainted to. I am well aware I cannot delay it forever, but…”

“His majesty has not demanded it? I wouldn’t expect him to be so patient,” Aventurine scoffed. Sunday raised a brow at him.

“He is not a patient man, that is true. How is it that you are so aware?”

“That doesn’t matter. So, you are holding out because you wish to marry for love? Will he really allow that?”

“By Halovian standards, I am still quite young. I imagine, once I am older, he will no longer allow me to delay. For now, he has… put up with Robin and I’s procrastination. Will you explain now why you are asking about this?”

“I… heard a rumor, of sorts, from a reliable source, that perhaps his majesty has been meeting with a potential bride for you. Perhaps… this potential bride is… involved with my current predicament.”

“I have heard nothing of this.”

“Well, if you’ve been refusing to marry, maybe his majesty plans to arrange things without your knowledge, until things are set so that you cannot refuse,” Aventurine hummed, playing idly with the tips of Sunday’s feathers. “The person who told me about this, they are absolutely insane, but it is rare for their information to be without merit. I cannot be certain if that is what his majesty is planning. It is merely a theory. My interpretation of the rumored meetings could be wrong, but…”

“I see…”

“Your help would only be detrimental, to the both of us. If my theory is correct, she will use whatever she can to further leverage her goals. If you try to intervene on my behalf, our relations could be used as a bargaining chip, especially considering I have already lied to her about their existence. It is better for you to just worry about yourself, and I will do the same. We need not make this more complicated than it needs to be, no?”

“I… I see. I suppose…” Sunday replied, a small frown curling his lips.

Aventurine gave him a quick kiss, before once again reaching for his satchel. Sunday did not stop him this time. He pulled out the collar and leash, holding it up for Sunday to see. He gave it a curious glance, blinking slowly as if he couldn’t even comprehend its purpose. Aventurine gave a soft chuckle, taking one of Sunday's hands and making him hold the collar.

“Do you not know what this is?”

“It seems to be a leash for a pet…”

“Correct. Well, not quite. I wouldn’t recommend using it on an animal… Watch here. If the leash is pulled to the left,” he explained, tugging on the leash to demonstrate, “it serves as a simple guidance. However, if the leash is pulled to the right…”

He pulled to the right, and Sunday watched as the leash hooked on a small metal ring at the front of the collar, and the leather cinched around his hand. It did not seem to tighten enough that it would cause harm, but it definitely shrank enough to look rather tight. Aventurine did not finish his sentence, but the words did not need to be said. It was a specialized collar, meant to choke the wearer. The prince swallowed as Aventurine stopped pulling on the leash and the collar relaxed.

“If you do not wish to wear it, you do not have to, but if you are willing…”

“I am willing,” Sunday said, offering the collar back to him. “Will you help me put it on?”

He paused for a moment, thoughtfully running his fingers over Sunday’s neck, just above his shirt collar. He nodded, but did not take the leather collar from Sunday’s hand. Instead, he started to unbutton his vest, then the shirt underneath. It wasn’t until both were undone that he took the collar, lithe fingers loosening the buckle with ease.

“Lift your head for me, pet.”

He did as ordered, lifting his head to give Aventurine full access to his neck. He looped the leather around, having to pull him closer to secure the buckle now at the back. Once he was done, he slid two fingers in under the collar, right by his throat, and tugged experimentally. With a satisfied hum, he took up the leash, coiling the end of it around his right hand.

“How does that feel?”

“It feels… fine.”

Aventurine frowned at his pause. He ran his thumb along the bottom of the collar, seemingly in thought. Whatever conclusion he came to, he clearly wasn’t happy with it. He reached back around, fingers brushing against the just-secured buckle.

“Maybe this was a bad idea…” he mumbled, but Sunday shook his head, taking his hand away.

“I am okay with this. Why are you so hesitant?”

“I did say that you do not have to oblige my requests, right?”

“You did. I am saying that I have no issues with this request,” Sunday asserted. He ran his hands soothingly over Aventurine’s sides. “Do you-“

He halted as he recalled something Aventurine had said when reestablishing their rules. His eyes were staring at the collar, the black leather a stark contrast against the prince’s pale skin. When he once again ran his fingers along the collar, Sunday leaned into the touch. He eyed the leash wrapped around his other hand, holding tightly.

“You do not like to be choked,” he muttered, repeating the rule. “I imagine… someone has not been so concerned for your well-being as you are being for mine right now.”

“I… It is…”

“It does not bother me at all, being collared by you. I trust you. However, if this is too unpleasant for you, you may remove it.” Sunday spoke calmly, trying his best to assure the man in his lap.

“I… I did want to try this,” he murmured softly. “I thought… I thought I did, anyhow. I wanted to see what the appeal was, but…”

He let out a shaky exhale. When he initially had the idea, it seemed appealing. Yet, as soon as Sunday had it on, all he could think about was the tight feeling around his own throat. The feeling of pressure behind his eyes, the feeling of scrambling for air, the feeling of panic. He knew that plenty of people found the sensation pleasurable, and maybe if he’d ever tried it with someone he trusted, he would as well, but all he could remember was the pain and fear. Sunday’s hands snuck under his shirt. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Aventurine to make a decision. He tugged gently on the leash, leftward, and Sunday’s head moved along with it.

“What if it gets too much for you? It’s rather difficult to speak when your air supply is restricted.”

“I can let you know, by tapping on an arm or leg, like this,” he answered, demonstrating with a few gentle taps on his thigh. “But again, if you have decided you no longer wish to do this, you can just remove the collar.”

“I don’t know. I wanted it… you do look good like this, I’ll admit,” he sighed. “I don’t know.”

Aventurine seemed to be genuinely indecisive. He continued to run his fingers along Sunday’s neck, watching his own movements as if the sight would clarify things for him. The prince waited patiently, but the more time passed, the more unsure Aventurine looked. He brushed his fingers against the leash in Aventurine’s hand and hummed to himself.

“May I?” he asked, opting to aid in Aventurine’s decision.

He let him take the leash, watching curiously as Sunday’s fingers trailed along the leather until he was gripping it near the attachment. He pulled to the right, hard. Even though it was his own action, he flinched as the collar cinched, making it hard to breathe. Aventurine watched his reaction for only a moment before interrupting. He hastily grabbed at Sunday’s hand, forcing him to let go and pulling at the collar to loosen it.

“I can’t,” he sputtered, looking pained even though he was not the one being hurt.

“It is okay,” Sunday soothed, guiding Aventurine’s hands to his neck. “Unbuckle it. It is okay.”

“I- I’m sorry. I- I just-“

“You do not need to apologize. You have done nothing wrong.”

“But I-“

“No. There is nothing you need to apologize for. I will say as many times as you need that I do not wish to do anything with you that you do not enjoy. Even if you wish to do nothing more tonight, I am content to sit and hold you like this.”

“So… What? If I said I just wanted to… to lie down and sleep here, you’d be okay with that?” he scoffed in disbelief. Sunday nodded, pressing his lips gently against his jaw. “Why?”

“I quite enjoy your presence. To be perfectly honest… I have never held anyone like this before. Even this is new to me. You are warm, and you fit well in my arms. It is comfortable to have you holding me. For as long as you allow it, I shall never complain.”

Aventurine shifted, relaxing even further into his embrace. He took a deep breath as Sunday kissed his neck, likely over one of the many mostly faded marks he’d left last time. He did find it interesting, how the prince liked to mark him so much. He wondered if he felt territorial, or if he just enjoyed the feeling of Aventurine’s skin in his mouth. He tilted his head, giving the prince more access, and he immediately took advantage.

“The collar was all I brought with me today,” he murmured as Sunday bit him gently. “I’m sorry. I should have brought something else as an alternative. I… I didn’t realize it would bother me so.”

“You do not need to apologize,” Sunday spoke against his skin. “I believe I have made my opinion clear. I will take you however you wish to offer yourself to me. I am curious about your wares, but I am more than happy to have you without them.”

While Aventurine simmered in the prince’s words and gentle affection, Sunday pulled his tunic over his head before also removing his own top still hanging open on his shoulders. He did not ask this time before lifting Aventurine and lying him down on the bed. Aventurine slipped his fingers into Sunday’s hair as he started to kiss along his collarbones and chest.

“You quite like doing that, don’t you?” Aventurine pointed out as yet another mark was left on his skin.

“Do you not? You said I could.”

“I don’t dislike it… just… noticing. Not even the men who used to own me would mark me as much as you do.”

Sunday grimaced at the not-so-subtle inference. They’d never explicitly spoken about it, but he knew the prince had a general idea about what he used to be before he chose a new name and washed away that past. He didn’t ask for any explanation, never would. Maybe it was because of that that Aventurine almost considered telling him. He wondered, how would the prince receive the story of Kakavasha? Would he change his mind about him, if he knew more than vague assumptions? Sunday wasn’t saying anything, but he could see where his mind was when his fingers brushed lightly over the scar on his neck. It was the one part of him he’d never pressed his lips against.

“Do you wish for me to stop?” he asked, likely referring to the many bites he’d already left on him.

He knew that if he told him yes, the prince would never leave another mark on him. His touch was already too gentle to bruise, but he wondered if he’d become even more careful for fear of accidentally making one. If he told him to, he would stop, forever…

“Don’t stop,” he exhaled. “There’s no one I’d rather be owned by than you.”

He’d thought the assurance would please the prince, but instead he pulled away. His expression was aggrieved, and even his hands were taken from him. It startled Aventurine, how upset he looked at what he thought would be taken as praise.

“Is that really how you think of me?” Sunday questioned, subtle rage hidden in his voice. “An owner?”

He was too stunned to answer. When Aventurine didn’t reply, the prince started to turn away, looking as if he planned to leave entirely. He was only stopped once Aventurine realized and grabbed at his hair, yanking him back down. He tried to kiss him, hoping it would soothe but Sunday pushed away, reaching back and removing his hand from his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly sputtered. “I didn’t mean it. I thought… I’m sorry.”

“What did you mean, if not that?”

“I thought you would like it.”

Sunday was quiet, but he did not back away any further. His anger had melted into silent pity. Aventurine didn’t know what to do, what to say. His wrist was gently held against his chest by the prince’s hand, but his grip was so loose he could easily break out of it. He knew that much was intentional. Even when upset, the prince refused to hurt him.

“I… have only ever laid with men who paid for the privilege, in one way or another,” he started, looking away. “I have lived nearly my entire life as someone else’s property. Saying things like that… I’m sorry. It was always exactly what they wanted to hear. I did not consider that… that you were not the same in that respect. You are nothing like those men, your highness, so I should have realized that too was different.”

The prince did not respond other than a quiet sigh. He turned back and saw him similarly looking away, though in the opposite direction. He was staring at the window, the night sky beyond it. Even when Aventurine slid his hand from his grip, he did not turn back to him. He still looked upset, so Aventurine sat up and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his lips against the prince's own neck.

“Kakavasha,” he whispered into Sunday’s ear. He jolted back, looking confused.

“What?”

“Kakavasha. It’s… my name. My actual name. No one who has ever purchased me has ever used it, even if they’ve known it. You… are not them, so I give it to you to use.”

“Kakavasha,” he repeated experimentally, and Aventurine knew immediately that the sound of it from the prince’s voice was intoxicating.

He finally wrapped his arms back around him, and with his touch the merchant knew the olive branch had been accepted. Then, he did something Aventurine didn’t expect. He kissed the brand. He shuddered as Sunday repeated his name, his voice rumbling as it was spoken against his skin.

“Is it sensitive?” the prince asked.

“Not anymore.”

He inhaled sharply as the prince bit down on the scar, sucking his own mark over it. Aventurine, for all he claimed he didn’t mean it, realized there was truth to his earlier words. If he must be owned by someone, he rather wished it were the prince. If the fleeting marks were sign of his possession of him, he would hope they continue to be renewed.

“Why do you like it so much?” he questioned as Sunday continued to rewrite the unpleasant mark. “If it is not for the reason I assumed.”

“I am not entirely certain. It makes me feel as if I am painting beautiful flowers on your skin. Pink and purple blossoms in a garden only I am granted. Others can only view the ones near enough the fence to be spotted through the slats, but I alone am blessed to feel the petals beneath my fingertips.”

“How eloquent… So, the reason you leave them higher than my collars can cover is to tease others with that which they cannot have?”

“Not at all. I simply nourish my garden without consideration for how high the fences reach.”

“Well… It hasn’t rained in a few days,” Aventurine hummed, lying back. “So, will you water your garden, or leave me dry?”

Sunday glanced over at the wardrobe. He felt along one of Aventurine’s arms wrapped around his neck. He had a gentle smile when he kissed the inside of his elbow, gently moving his arm to release him.

“You will have to let go of me. The lubrication is over there,” he said, nodding to the wardrobe.

“Are the drawers here just for show?” Aventurine huffed as he released the prince, knocking on the nearby bedside table. “Seems a better place if we are to keep doing this, no?”

“I will take your advice into consideration.”

He knelt down to retrieve the bottle from the case stashed at the bottom of the wardrobe. When he stood and turned around, he was graced with the sight of Aventurine wriggling out of his trousers, one of the legs sticking around his ankle as he attempted to kick it away. He smiled to himself, setting the bottle on the table and assisting Aventurine with his pant leg.

“My garden seems quite eager. Perhaps a week is too long to leave it without water,” he mused, before kissing the ankle he now held in his hand.

His hand glided up Aventirine’s leg, fingers dancing over the almost faded marks left along his inner thigh. He’d come up with the analogy on a whim, but more and more he felt it fitting. His fingers pressed down against the wilted petals. Flowers that he himself had made bloom. The desire was so foreign. He’d never felt it before, but now it flooded him.

“My garden,” he murmured again as he made new ‘flowers’ bloom on pale skin.

The third time he whispered the fond comparison against his skin, Aventurine smiled to himself with the realization that the prince was in fact the possessive type. It was so soft, the way he wanted him, as if he truly were handling a delicate flower. He wondered if it was intentional, comparing him not to an object that could be used, replaced, discarded, but to something that could be owned only in name, to something that needed to be cultivated and cared for.

He didn’t even notice when Sunday had lubricated his fingers, only knew when he felt them rubbing over his entrance. He nipped at the thin, sensitive skin at the crook of his hip at the same moment he slid the first finger inside. He stifled a whimper as Sunday pressed the tip of his finger against his prostate with practiced ease. As if he’d already memorized how to reach it.

Despite the distraction, his mind started to wander to less pleasant thoughts. If Jade really did manage to collaborate with the king and marry the prince, they would have to lie together, wouldn’t they? Sunday would be good to her, as he would probably be good to anyone, but she definitely wouldn’t be good to him in turn. He was too obedient and would go along with whatever she wanted, and she would take full advantage of his passiveness.

Aventurine could come and help pick up the pieces of whatever she did to him, but would Sunday allow that? A man with such gods-damned integrity, he would likely refuse to participate in an affair no matter how little he cared for his spouse. Maybe Aventurine would be able to convince him, but to what end? Why did he even care so much about all of this?

Sure, he had acknowledged he had some amount of feelings for the prince, but so what? He knew going into this that it was a temporary arrangement. He was indulging in something he would never get to keep, and he knew that. Why, then, did it hurt so much to think about it ending? Was it just because of how soon it could be?

“Am I hurting you?” Sunday asked, breaking him from his thoughts. The fingers inside him had stilled and he looked down at him with a concerned expression. Aventurine shook his head, but Sunday only frowned. “Please do not lie to me.”

“I- I’m not. It feels good.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t look so pained right now.”

“Don’t stop, please,” he whined, grabbing Sunday’s wrist when it felt like he was about to pull away. “Please. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Aven- Kakavasha…”

He removed his fingers despite Aventurine trying to hold him there. His other hand reached up, holding his cheek while he kissed him softly. In desperation for it not to end, he bit the prince’s lip when he tried to pull away. He didn’t want Sunday to pity him. He didn’t want Jade to take him away. He just wanted…

“Don’t stop. That’s an order.”

“Kakavasha, if you-“

“Who is in charge here, your highness?”

“You,” Sunday answered begrudgingly.

“Good. Now do as you’re told,” he huffed, pulling him down for another kiss. “Fuck me already.”

It was frustrating, the way Aventurine was acting. He knew he shouldn’t, he should stop and figure out what it was that had upset him, but instead he followed orders. There was a momentary temptation as he positioned himself to enter the merchant, to slam in and make his displeasure known, but he discarded the thought. He pressed in slowly, carefully, refusing to hurt the other any more than he may have already done. His hands massaged his sides in order to soothe, his lips pressed against Aventurine’s to distract. Everything was done to ensure he didn’t feel the pain he was trying to goad Sunday into giving him.

“Kakavasha…” he murmured against his neck. “My garden.”

He rolled his hips, listening and watching cautiously for any sign that Aventurine didn’t like it. Maybe because he knew Sunday was looking for it, he didn’t give any. His movements remained slow, deliberate. The friction wasn’t enough to bring either of them to fruition, just enough to be pleasurable. Aventurine tried coaxing him into moving faster, pulling his hair and digging his nails into his shoulder.

He let out a huff as he untangled Aventurine’s hand from his hair, grabbing the other as well and pinning them down in one of his own against the pillow. He arched upward with a gasp when Sunday shifted to hold the position, resulting in a hard thrust into him. Sunday’s free hand wrapped around his member, stroking him at the same slow pace.

“Ah- Please, faster!” he pleaded, whining when Sunday shook his head.

“Not yet, Kakavasha. You can learn to be patient.”

“I don’t want- mmph- I don’t want to be patient.”

It should have bothered him how easily the prince was able to pin and hold him with a single hand. How easy he took control away. If it were anyone else, it would have. With Sunday, however, it made his head swim. His tongue felt too big in his mouth and his lungs too small for his breaths. He couldn’t tell if the clawing desperation was for Sunday to let him cum or for him to never stop what he was doing.

“Please,” he tried again. “Please, you’re so good. I just- I just need more, please”

“Is that an order?” he hummed, voice low and teasing.

“Yes! If it will make you go faster, yes!”

“Then I will have to obey.”

As promised, he quickened his pace until it was something almost frantic. He’d teased them both for so long that he could prolong it no further. Aventurine finished with a startled moan, arching until their chests were pressed together. He exhaled stuttered whines when the prince did not slow, chasing his own end while Aventurine tingled with sensitivity.

Sunday pulled out as it started to become too much, a much needed mercy. His wrists were freed so Sunday could take one of his hands and wrap it around his length, using both of their fists to jerk himself off. He panted out Aventurine’s name, his true name, like a desperate chant. Aventurine used his other hand to pet through Sunday's soft hair.

“Such a good boy for me,” he whispered soothingly. “You can come, my good boy.”

Aventurine felt more than saw Sunday’s release, with the way he grabbed and kissed him just before. It took the prince a moment to catch his breath afterwards. Once he had, he was quick to stand and retrieve a dampened cloth to clean them both with. Aventurine hummed contentedly as Sunday took care of him, watching how he regarded him so softly. He wondered if it was his good luck that granted him this or… if it was just another cruelty he’d face, having this all torn away.

“When will you call for me again?” he asked quietly. The prince glanced up with a curious look, before giving him a fond smile.

“Your impatience has no limits, I see.”

“Hmm… You yourself promised you wouldn’t make me wait so long. A garden only watered once a week is a garden of dead plants.”

“Of course. It seems my inexperience as a gardener is showing. How often, then, are Sigonian flowers supposed to be watered?”

“You- You’re leaving it up to me?”

“Naturally, I should abide by the wishes of the one more impatient out of us.”

“Um… Well…” Aventurine paused, not really having expected the prince’s response.

Would it be too soon to ask to see him tomorrow? The fact that he wanted that in the first place was somewhat perplexing. Sure, he’d never been eager to see someone else so frequently, but at the same time… Their relationship was scheduled to end sooner or later, whether or not Jade got her way. Shouldn’t he enjoy it as much as he could until then? Or was that just going to make things harder when it came to an end? Wasn’t he already too wrapped up in the prince as it was? Before he could come up with an answer for Sunday, he was standing and walking over to his desk, taking something from a drawer.

“Here. Rather than waiting for me to call upon you, and having me wait in worry that my letters have been intercepted, take this,” he said, handing Aventurine a key. “The key to my chambers. Come whenever you begin to feel parched.”

“Is that… okay? You’re the one who is always too busy.”

“Now that the Charmony Festival is over and I have caught up with my other duties, there should be no issue. My daylight hours are spoken for, but after supper I am almost entirely free. Seeing that you come after dusk anyway…”

“Right, but… what if, like- I don’t know. You’re a prince. Don’t you… like… have servants or something who could-”

“I have not had anyone attend to me in the evening in quite some time,” he sighed. “When I started spending most of my nights in the library, I informed the staff that I would attend to myself, so that I would not have to worry about anyone waiting up for me. No one will enter my chambers after dark.”

“So… You are really saying I can just come whenever I want?” Aventurine asked, fiddling with the key and flipping it between his fingers.

“I am.”

“That’s… quite bold, your highness.”

In lieu of a response, Sunday brushed Aventurine’s hair to the side and left a kiss against his forehead. It was tenderness he did not feel he deserved, then again when the prince laid next to him and pulled him into his arms. It felt warm and safe and very much like something he could get overly used to. Something he would miss, when they were forced to part ways. Something Jade would probably never receive, he thought to himself.

Or would she? Even if the prince did not love her?

“Stay away from Lady Bonajade, whatever you do,” he mumbled, pulling closer into the prince’s warmth.

Sunday didn’t respond, but neither did he ignore Aventurine’s words. Lady Bonajade… Was that who was threatening him? He should have thought of it sooner, given Aventurine’s clear distaste for her. But why? What exactly was going on between them?

“I promise,” he whispered into his golden hair, leaving his many questions for another night.

Chapter 12

There was only a moment, as he silently stuck the key into the lock, that it felt as if he was doing something inherently wrong. As it turned and the door clunked and opened, revealing a room still lit by firelight, that feeling vanished. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him just as quietly, and relocking it out of an excess of caution. Sunday did not greet the intruder, as he was not awake to do so.

Aventurine hesitated, seeing the prince slumped over his desk, face hidden by the crossed arms his head rested against. He noticed that his halo had vanished, but the slight, steady raise and fall of his chest indicated he was breathing. He stepped closer, undecided if he should wake him, or just leave. Even when he’d spent days here when he was ill, he’d never really been granted the sight of Sunday asleep. He’d stayed in the room, and slept in bed with him even, but Aventurine had always fallen asleep first, and the prince was always already up by the time he’d awoken.

He gently brushed aside some of his hair, seeing his eyes closed and face peaceful. There were piles of papers on the desk, some now crumpled by his arms and elbow. Aventurine didn’t pry, as tempting as it was. He leant down, placing a soft kiss against Sunday’s temple as he resolved to leave. Yet, as soon as he pulled away again, he saw the prince’s eyes flutter open.

“Aventurine?” Sunday groggily muttered.

Aventurine jerked back as the bronze halo manifested behind his head. He stammered around an excuse as the prince slowly regained full consciousness. Even once the prince was no longer dreary, he hadn’t managed to say anything, but Sunday waited patiently.

“My apologies. I did not know you would be asleep. I will go,” he finally managed.

“No! No, that is- That is quite alright. I am happy to see you.”

“If you’re tired-“

“Not at all,” Sunday assured him, reaching out and curling his fingers around Aventurine’s wrist. “Just allow me a moment. My mouth is rather dry. I will get some water and return.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, sit. I will be just a moment.”

Sunday gestures toward the bed and, after a moment’s hesitance, Aventurine nodded and sat atop the covers. While Sunday shuffled into his washroom, Aventurine removed his disguise and satchel, pulling out the items it contained. Rope, a plug, and the collar and leash he’d failed to use last time. Despite Sunday’s repeated assurances, there was a nagging part of him that couldn’t let it go. It did look good on the prince, and he hadn’t shown any indication of hating it. He didn’t understand why, then, he was so bothered by it.

If anything, he’d expected it to feel empowering, like having the prince at his whim usually did. He thought he’d feel like the others must have, doing it to him. He didn’t like that it felt like acid in his throat, like bile threatening to spew from his stomach just to see the leather tighten around the prince’s neck. He knew as soon as he saw it, Sunday would insist it wasn’t needed, but Aventurine just couldn’t accept it. He didn’t like that it bothered him, that his past was still hanging over him like the noose he’d already cut down.

Sunday returned, and he immediately caught sight of the collar in Aventurine’s hands. He’d expected some vision of distaste, but instead his expression was completely neutral. His gaze trailed over the other items laid out, catching on the slim plug. He tilted his head, evidently trying to decipher its use.

“I wanted to try again,” Aventurine spoke softly, turning the collar over in his hand.

“Are you certain?”

“We shall see. I modified it, anyhow.”

“Oh?”

Sunday looked closer at the leather looped around Aventurine’s fingers. Sure enough, he could see that the inside of the collar was now lined with what looked like a softer fabric. He sat down next to him, feeling it for himself and noting that it was smooth like satin.

“It occurred to me that the leather could have marked you. Even with what little we did, there was a red line across your throat after I removed the collar. It faded quickly but I realized that if it had been left on longer that may not have been the case, so I contacted the artisan and had them add a lining to prevent any possible bruising,” Aventurine explained.

“They work quite quickly. It’s been only three days.”

“We have a decent relationship, so he rushed it for me as a favor.”

“Is that so?”

“I have a few artisans I work with for products. Ratio formulates lubrication and any other herbal mixtures I may need, as you may already know. There’s a sculptor named Argenti from whom I get the phalluses and plugs, and a few other assorted goods. All of my leather goods, such as this, come from- well, he’s a blacksmith as well as a leatherworker, but my particular products are more leather than metal. His name is Yingxing,” Aventurine rattled off. “He isn’t a fan of most people, but… we have a surprising amount of similarities so perhaps because of that he makes an exception for me.”

“Is that so?” Sunday hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of the hand still twirling the collar absentmindedly. “Could you tell me about them?”

“Um… Well…” Aventurine paused. He swallowed, considered, decided. “We both come from distant places that we can never return to. For me, Sigonia. For him, the Xianzhou Alliance. We both work under remarkably unpleasant women who operate with a deceptively friendly veneer. We both loathe the IPC, and I’ve taken advantage of my position as a member to ease a burden or two for him in the past. He knows I did so entirely to win his favor, but it’s been mutually beneficial. Both of us have plenty of things we’d rather not speak of, and both of us are smart enough not to pry. It makes for an easy partnership.”

“I… see…” Sunday's hands had been gently moving over him, one gliding up his spine while the other massaged his thigh. Both halted for a moment as the prince thought. “Do you wish… I would not ask these questions, then?”

“My partnership with you is different,” Aventurine assured, leaning in as he felt lips brush against his neck. “With anyone else it’s annoying but I don’t mind if it’s you. You can ask whatever you’d like. If I don’t wish to tell you, I just won’t answer.”

“I understand. Please, do let me know if I ever do overstep with my questions, in that case.”

“Have I ever been shy about doing so? I’m not nearly as timid as you, your highness.”

“I do not know that I would describe myself as timid ,” Sunday frowned, pulling slightly away.

“No? Overly cautious and exceptionally obedient. I would say timid sums you up quite well.”

“Perhaps if that caution stemmed from a place of fear, I would agree with you, but it does not.”

“Does it not? Isn’t it a fear that you may end up hurting me?” Aventurine asked, tilting his head. Sunday had stopped touching him now. Was he upset by this?

“I- I have no desire to hurt you, and due to that I am cautious, yes… but I disagree that it means I am timid.”

“Hmm… You know, I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Aventurine sighed, pulling the prince closer by his shirt collar. “Why are you taking such offense to that word?”

“I doubt anyone would enjoy being called timid by the one they- by the one they lie with,” he protested, though he easily went along with it as Aventurine pushed him to lie down. “It makes it sound like perhaps I am too timid to satisfy you.”

Aventurine straddled Sunday as he started to unbutton his top. It was a looser blouse today, with no vest or jacket. Perhaps he had changed into it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, despite still working long enough to pass out at his desk. It slid off easily, the prince only needing to sit up slightly for Aventurine to remove and toss it aside. His displeased expression started to waver as Aventurine shifted to start working on his trousers.

“Is that really how you took it? That wasn’t even what we were talking about.”

“Yes, well… Perhaps it is a concern of mine.”

“You think you do not satisfy me?” Aventurine asked, raising a brow.

Sunday looked away, wings curling around to cover his face as he noticed they often did when the prince was feeling embarrassed. Aventurine stood to finish pulling off Sunday’s trousers. By the time he had returned to straddling the now-bare prince, he still hadn’t responded. Aventurine cleared his throat, making it clear he was waiting for Sunday to explain.

“I… I just… When we parted, you made it seem as if you would return sooner, but then a few days had passed…”

“Oh… My dear pet,” Aventurine cooed. “I thought I was the impatient one.”

“You are, which is precisely why I-”

“I was waiting for the collar to be finished. Were you eagerly watching your door, like a good little pup waiting for its owner to return?”

“I- Ah!”

Sunday startled as Aventurine, still fully clothed, started to grind against him. The fabric of his trousers wasn’t particularly coarse, but it was still an unexpected friction. He did not cease his movements as he reached to the side, where the items he’d brought with him had been placed. He ran a finger gently along the satin lining the inside of the collar before picking it up again, unbuckling it, and wrapping it around the prince’s neck.

“What an irresponsible pet owner I am, allowing my puppy to run around without his collar,” he mused as he secured it and tugged testingly on the leash. “Just so you know, I quite enjoy your obedience, pet. As I said before, calling you timid wasn’t intended to be a slight. Your… caution is occasionally excessive, but I’ve accepted that even if I ask you to fuck me roughly, you’ll refuse.”

“You- You have never asked me to-“ Sunday started to pant, but Aventurine cut him off with a yank against the leash. He still pulled to the left, not allowing it to cinch, but it was enough of a warning to silence the prince.

“Hush, pup. This dog of mine… He certainly likes to use me as a chew toy, but even then, he never really sinks his fangs in, does he?” he hummed, slipping a thumb past Sunday’s lips to press against a canine. “Even when I anger you, you’re still so gentle.”

The prince let out a whine around his thumb, unable to speak while Aventurine toyed with his mouth. He pressed down against Sunday’s tongue, somewhat mesmerized by the sight of him flushed and mouth open, panting against one of his fingers. He curved his hand around, sliding in two fingers to replace his thumb, feeling hazy when Sunday closed his lips around them, sucking without being ordered. His hips bucked up against Aventurine’s rear when the steady circling he’d been doing halted for just a moment, and he gave the prince a small grin as he continued.

“That’s right. Such a good, obedient puppy. I bet you could get off just like this, huh?”

He tugged on the leash lightly, to the right this time. It wasn’t enough to actually choke him, just enough for him to start to feel the pressure of it. Sunday moaned around his fingers, bucking his hips again. When Aventurine started to grind down even harder, his noises increased in pitch, sounder more and more desperate as they continued.

“You’re not even fucking me, just rutting against my ass like a dog in heat. Does it feel good?”

Sunday couldn’t speak, could barely manage to nod his head. Aventurine removed his fingers, leaving the prince’s whines unhindered. An answer fell from his lips, a gasping ‘yes’. Aventurine felt hands take hold of his hips, holding him down so Sunday could feel more pressure.

“Just so desperate for me, my pet. Just for me, right?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Yeah? Who do you belong to, pet?”

“You.”

“Hmm? Who’s ‘you’? Answer properly. Who do you belong to?”

“K-Kakavasha!” the prince cried, his voice cracking.

Aventurine could feel through the thin fabric of his trousers the prince’s release soaking in. He could hear his own heart pounding, feel it in his throat. As much as he’d been taunting him, he hadn’t actually expected Sunday to finish like that, with his name on his lips. The realization of how much he liked it left a pit in his stomach. Once the prince had caught his breath, he sat up to kiss him. A hand slipped into his hair and pulled like the pale blonde strands were a lifeline.

“That… wasn’t quite what I had planned for,” Aventurine exhaled once they parted. “Do you think you can handle something more, pet?”

“Of course,” Sunday hummed, pressing kisses against his jaw. “I am nowhere near satisfied with just that, and you have yet to be pleasured.”

“That’s right. My puppy isn’t satisfied until he gets to fuck me, right? Only I can make you feel this good, right?”

“It is only you,” he agreed, deciding not to ask what had caused Aventurine’s sudden possessiveness, and simply assure him instead. “Of course, it is only you.”

“Turn over, on all fours,” Aventurine ordered as he stood, grabbing the rope.

Sunday obeyed, hearing the shifting of fabric as Aventurine undressed. He was pulled back so that he was on just his knees, and Aventurine maneuvered his arms behind him. The braided cord was wrapped around his wrists first, tight enough to hold him but not tight enough to be uncomfortable, before Aventurine wound it around his arms as well, countless loops up all the way to his shoulders. By the time he was done, Sunday couldn’t move his arms at all, in any direction.

Aventurine’s fingers trailed back down his arms, then brushed briefly across his lower back. He was pushed gently forward until he was bent over, forced to hold himself up with his head. A hand squeezed and massaged one of his cheeks, pulling it aside as cool liquid was poured over his entrance. He let out a quick hiss of surprise, but Aventurine was quick to soothe him.

“Don’t worry. I won’t keep you in this position for long. Tell me if it starts to hurt,” he assured. “This is the slimmest plug I have. Even someone like you, who hasn’t explored in this way, should have no problem taking it.”

“Plug?” Sunday repeated, his voice wavering with how he was positioned.

“Mmm… it’s exactly what it sounds like. Unlike a typical phallus toy, this is something you keep inside for passive stimulation, more similar to the sounding rod we used before,” he explained as he slowly slid in a single finger. “Ah, but, this is far less intense than that will be. Still, with the way this one is curved… it should do a good job of stimulating your prostate as you fuck me.”

“Ah, I- I am… somewhat envious of how you can… how… how you speak so plainly about these things,” Sunday muttered, struggling even more than before to hold himself up.

“Well… it is my job, after all,” Aventurine grinned. He saw how the prince was starting to tremble, and placed a hand under his chest to help him stay in place. “Just a little longer pet. Do my fingers feel good?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Hmm… Does it feel better than when you tried it?”

“Yes,” he exhaled with a shudder as Aventurine pressed hard against what he assumed was his prostate.

He let out a satisfied hum before he withdrew. He took a moment to coat the plug, sliding it in just as slowly as he had his fingers. Sunday gasped out a moan as it slipped fully inside and Aventurine pressed against the base, causing the tip of it to rub against that same pleasurable spot. Even with his chest being held up, his neck was starting to ache and he couldn’t stop his trembling. His head felt too hazy to even recognize when Aventurine started to move him, turning him around so he was kneeling, facing Aventurine.

“Such a good boy for me,” he cooed.

The prince was visibly dazed, and so pliant that he moved easily in Aventurine’s hands. Moans fell from his lips at even the slightest sensation, like a single finger running along his length, already hard again. He complied with even the smallest suggestion, opening his mouth for Aventurine as soon as he ran his thumb along his lower lip. He looked so pretty like that, flushed and unfocused, leather around his neck and rope around his arms, all of it dark against his pale skin.

“Gods, you’re a little too perfect, aren’t you?” Aventurine mumbled to himself. “Do you want to fuck me, pet?”

“Please,” he whined, hips jerking slightly as he did so.

“Such a good boy. Sit back, then, so I can ride you.”

He helped guide Sunday’s legs out from under him and had him lean against his headboard so that his arms behind him wouldn’t end up hurting him. He took the leash in one of his hands as he knelt in front of the prince, pressing the tip of his member against his lips, and groaning as the prince took him in without hesitation. He let out a curse at the warm sensation, almost forgetting what he had meant to do.

“That’s a good boy,” he hissed. “You’re gonna make me feel good while I prepare myself, like a good pup, yeah?”

Sunday hummed in affirmation, the sound vibrating around him. He took a fistful of Sunday’s hair to stop himself from thrusting forward and choking him. With his mouth full and his hands bound, he didn’t really have any way to alert Aventurine if it was too much, so he wanted to be careful. He let out a sigh to calm himself as he reached back with his other hand, sliding in two wet fingers.

Maybe next time, he’d prepare himself before coming. He wondered how the prince would react to that. He could wear some lingerie and a plug under his clothes, let the prince unwrap him like a gift. He groaned as he slid in another finger. Sunday's tongue pressed persistently along the underside of his member and he continued to try to press further than he could take. Every time he did, Aventurine had to force him to back off by pulling at his hair.

“Are you trying to make me cum before you can even take me?” Aventurine exhaled as he tugged harshly once again on the prince’s silver hair.

Sunday hummed again, ignoring the intended warning and pushing forward with intent. He swallowed around him, taking Aventurine in past the point where he expected him to gag, but he did no such thing. It was tight and warm and wet, and his fingers stretching himself was already more pleasurable than painful. He used the leash to pull Sunday off of him as he came, painting the prince’s face and making him look even more sinful.

“Oh, dear… seems I’ve gotten my pup all dirty,” he laughed breathlessly, using his thumb to wipe away some that had landed a bit too close to the prince’s eye. “We can wash you later. I’m sure my pet is eager for me, hm?”

“Yes, Vasha, please,” Sunday begged, his voice sounding utterly wrecked.

“Oh? Vasha?” he teased, delighting in the way Sunday groaned as he sank down onto him. His head fell back and wings fluttered in pleasure. “You’ve only just learned my name recently and you're already so familiar. Have you been calling it out at night when I didn’t come to see you? So much you had to shorten it?”

“Yes,” he admitted easily.

It caught Aventurine off guard, how shameless it was. He was going slowly, as slowly as the prince usually did, but this time Sunday was the one being needy for it. His hips twitched upward for more, his arms flexed against the restraints with a desperation to reach around and hold him. His open mouth panted out needy whines every time Aventurine took him fully and ground against him.

He pulled on the leash, slowly tightening the collar around Sunday’s neck, watching with fascination. Even when his moans started to become lighter and raspy with restriction, Sunday did not seem at all uncomfortable with it. If anything, he only seemed all the more desperate for everything Aventurine was doing to him. It still made Aventurine ache, as if he was the one being strangled.

He startled as Sunday shifted below him so he had better leverage to fuck him properly, even without use of his hands. The leash was forgotten as he scrambled to grasp the prince’s shoulders to keep his balance. His own moans were punched out of him with the surprising amount of force from a man usually so gentle and tame. Had the teasing from before really gotten to him?

Sunday’s voice was strained as he called out Aventurine’s name repeatedly, low and growled against the warm and salty skin of his neck. The marks he’d left nights ago hadn’t yet faded, but as Aventurine felt the now familiar scrape of teeth he wondered if perhaps the prince’s goal truly was to never leave him without numerous reminders of their encounters. Not that he minded. He tilted his head to give the prince more access, moving one hand from his shoulder to his ever-soft hair.

“So good for me,” he praised, his own voice feeling as weak as the prince’s. “So, so good for me, my pet.”

He only received a whine in response, the noise vibrating against his throat. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, at the way the prince really did sound like a puppy, begging for food. He could feel himself, already getting closer, and assumed the prince was as well with the way his hip continued to stutter. He imagined the plug was making it feel like he was also being fucked, and maybe that was what had made him so unusually desperate.

“Are you close, pet?” Aventurine asked, brushing soothingly through his hair. No words, but another keening whine in affirmation, another desperate attempt to break free of the restraints on his arms. “I’m so close, too. You’ve been such a good boy. You can cum for me, can’t you, baby?”

Once again, it surprised him how well it worked, how easily the prince was coaxed by just his words. How quickly he was coaxed in turn. His mind went blank as he was filled with warmth, digging his nails into Sunday’s scalp and skin when he came. His legs were trembling when he lifted himself off of Sunday. He still felt slightly dazed as he started to try and untie the ropes on his arms, his fingers feeling too weak to work the knots.

“S-Sorry. I think you may have managed to pull these even tighter,” he explained when he realized  how long he was taking.

“It is alright. Can I assist in some way?”

“Is it okay if… if we lie you on your stomach?”

“Of course,” Sunday assured, already shifting to do just that.

His movement paused as he started to turn, and Aventurine smiled to himself as he remembered the plug as well. He helped the prince turn over. Once he had, he ran a finger down his spine, pressing against the base of the plug and relishing the way the prince’s muscles twitched with sensitivity. As tempting as it was to tease him further, he took mercy on him, pulling the slim plug out slowly.

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes… but… if I am honest, I still think it is not my preference,” Sunday admitted quietly.

“Hmm… that’s okay. I had no plans of taking you myself. I already said I prefer to be taken.”

It took him a while, but eventually he was able to loosen the rope around Sunday’s arms. There were pink and red lines left behind, chafed from his previous struggling. Aventurine ran his fingers gently over them with a frown. He’d always intended not to leave any marks.

Sunday turned over, taking his wandering hand in order to pull him into his newly freed arms. He tried to apologize about the crisscrossing marks, but he was cut off by Sunday’s lips against his. He would have thought it coincidence if not for it happening the next two times he opened his mouth after parting.

“Your highness, I-” he tried again, only to be cut off again.

“It is quite alright,” the prince assured after pulling away this time.

“No it’s not. Those won’t fade by morning, your highness.”

“No one will be able to see them under my clothing anyway. I certainly leave far worse marks on you… ones you have admitted you cannot cover,” Sunday sighed, pressing his fingers against one such mark high on his neck.

“That’s different. I am not a prince, your highness . I should have been more careful,” he frowned.

“You have always been incredibly careful with me. It was my own struggling that caused these marks, no? Do not worry yourself over it.”

“But-”

“Why does this bother you so much? I am certain I have never said anything about you leaving marks on me.”

“No, you haven’t… but… Just… Never mind. I will drop the matter. I should be going anyway,” Aventurine sighed, shaking his head as he started to disentangle himself from the prince’s limbs.

“You could stay… It is rather late.”

“No, not this time.”

“You say that every time,” Sunday pouted.

“And yet, you still offer every time. I will see you again, your highness. Rest well.”

“I heard a certain bounty hunter caused a small ruckus in the market today,” Sunday coyly mentioned to Robin after their father had left them to finish supper.

“I heard about that as well. I suppose it’s a given that not all of his work goes smoothly.”

“Does it… ever worry you? I mean… involving yourself with someone who has such a… disreputable occupation.”

“It does… but not in the way you likely think,” she hummed, sipping her tea. “I knew from the beginning who he was. He’s someone that people would not approve of, should our relationship be discovered, but that doesn’t matter to me. I love him because of who he is, not in spite of it. The part that worries me is that every time we part… I know I may never see him again. Some day, the dangers of his job may catch up with him, and I do not know if word would ever even reach me.”

Silence fell between them as he considered what was best to say. He’d had the thought that their situations were similar, but realistically, there were many differences. Aventurine’s life was, as far as he knew, not at risk. Their main issue was… merely the difference in their standing. Robin seemingly didn’t consider that an issue.

“You do not seem worried about what will happen when you have to marry. You will not be able to marry him.”

“Why not?” Robin scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Sure, the princess won’t be allowed to wed a commoner under father’s rule, but… he won’t be king forever. I don’t care what the council says. I’m not marrying someone I don’t love, and I love Boothill.”

“But-“

“I thought you agreed with me on this. You’ve abstained from marriage and even dates for the very same reason, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but I will not be able to do so forever.”

“And what about Aventurine?”

“He- He knows…” Sunday sighed. “He was the one to bring it up, rather. He thinks father is planning to wed me to Lady Bonajade.”

“What?”

“I do not know if he is correct, but ever since he mentioned it to me, I have noticed… he has become rather… well… he has been more possessive of me, of late.”

“Oh?”

“I have noticed a change that only started after we spoke about my marrying in the future. I… I say what I can to assure him in the moment but truthfully I am not quite certain how to deal with this. I was going to ask how you and Mr. Boothill navigate this issue but it seems we have differing views.”

“Well… Answer this for me, brother. How do you feel about Aventurine? I don’t believe you to be the type to involve yourself with him just for the sake of a warm bed.”

“I… do not entirely know. I care deeply for him. I am always left eager to see him, and disheartened when he refuses my offers for him to stay longer. I cannot so boldly say that I love him, as you do, but neither can I say it is not potentially where these feelings lead.”

“I see… So, then, with your regal eventualities, how do you plan to end things with him?”

“P-Pardon?”

“As you just said, you will eventually have to marry, and it cannot be him. So, how do you plan to end your relationship with him? Or are you planning to keep seeing him afterwards? Will he never be allowed to experience an open love?”

“Robin, that is not-“

“Yet that is precisely what you are implying, brother! For as long as he remains your secret, that is all he will receive. Evenings of sneaking around and listening to passing whispers hoping they don’t contain his name. I know because that is exactly what Boothill and I have been doing, looking forward to a day when it will not matter if I am a princess. Even if I have to walk away from the crown entirely, I will not doom him to that forever. Eventually, Sunday, you will have to choose if you cherish him more than this cage, and if you don’t choose him, you will have to let him go. Surely you are already aware of this.”

“I… I had not thought…”

“How exactly did your discussion about the Lady Bonajade go that you are so perplexed about this?”

“Uh… Well… He told me that someone he trusted informed him that father had been meeting with her, that she was the one causing problems for him… and that he suspected the meetings between her and father were for the purpose of marriage, but then he brushed past the issue as if he did not want to continue the conversation. At the time he had not even mentioned a name, but later he begged me keep away from the Lady Bonajade. Since then, he has been acting strangely. Something that had at first bothered him greatly he now has been reliant on these past few nights. I do not understand it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah- That… I beg you allow me a secret or two, sister.”

“I see…” she said slowly, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Well, whatever it is, clearly he is concerned about this potential partnership with Lady Bonajade. Have you not discussed it since the first time?”

“I try not to bring up topics which I know will upset him.”

“I suppose I understand, but still… Occasionally such a thing is necessary,” Robin sighed. “Honestly brother, you are so good at listening to others' woes and offering advice as Bronze Melodia, but you cannot navigate a personal relationship of your own? You need to speak with him. More importantly… you need to decide where you want your future, with or without him, to lie. If you care about him as you say, decide if that care extends past this moment, and if it doesn’t… set yourselves free of it.”

As much as his sister’s words hurt him like a wound, he knew there was sense in her advice. He hadn’t thought much about it while wrapping himself blindly in Aventurine's embrace. He was someone who had previously kept strict control of every moment, every aspect of his life, and relinquishing some of that felt like freedom. Yet, he foolishly believed that the harm he’d caused both of them in doing so had been resolved, and knowing that again he’d done the same was a bitter realization. He had not once ever considered how this would end between them, content to enjoy the peaceful moments it offered him in the now… but…

What could the future hold? If Aventurine's worries came to fruition, and he was married off to Lady Bonajade with no way to escape it, what would become of them? They wouldn’t be able to keep meeting each other. Would he simply take back his chamber key and bid farewell? Would Aventurine even try for something more?

The past few nights had convinced him that Aventurine likewise cared for him, likewise craved his company, but how far did that go? He enjoyed their nights together, enjoyed feeling like he had some control over Sunday and enjoyed how Sunday gave in to him. He’d said he did not mind Sunday’s questions and had asked a few in return, but… perhaps their evenings together were all Aventurine wished to possess. Rightly, with no experience otherwise, how could Sunday say he wanted anything more from them as well?

Yet, he knew. He knew he wanted. He wanted Aventurine to stay after they’d finished for the night. He wished to hold him as they slept, wished to wake to blonde hair and gemstone eyes. He wished to see him when the sun did not slumber, wished for Aventurine to see him the same. He wished to meet those eyes when he was stuck in meetings and know they were both wanting to be elsewhere. He wanted to eat meals together as they chattered about things that needn’t be confined to bedrooms. He wished for Aventurine and Robin to meet, for Robin to approve of this man, for them to not need to hide their touches for closed doors and midnight hours.

He wanted to know about Sigonia, and his memories of a sister that had passed. He wanted to know about the mark on his neck and the men he’d been ‘owned’ by. He wanted to know why he was now called Aventurine and not Kakavasha. He wanted to know how he’d come to Asdana, how he’d been freed of his bonds, how he’d joined a guild he’d freely claimed to despise. He wanted to know what lied between Aventurine and Lady Bonajade. He wanted to know all of it, to hold the foul memories for him and replace the pain with scattered wildflowers. He wanted to quell Aventurine’s every fear and hold him close. He wanted to extinguish every flame that had burned him and cool him in soothing waters but…

But in doing so, had he not drowned them both? Had he not dragged him into a murky depth and ignored the bubbles floating expediently to the surface? He held his head in his hands with a groan. What could he do? He could not marry Aventurine. Father would never allow it, let alone how the people of Asdana would react, him marrying someone who was not a noble. He knew that to be true, so why was the image of Aventurine donned in white and standing underneath a rose-adorned arch so sweet a thought? Why was the picture of sunlight warming their clasped hands, of gold adornments donned on waiting fingers and a promised forever so tempting? Why was even the fleeting glimpse of comfortably sitting together in the library, both consumed by differing tomes and saying, doing nothing at all but basking in the presence of one not forced to part an unbearable warmth in his chest?

“I do not wish… to part with him,” he admitted, his voice strained.

“Then… you have to decide how you will keep both him and the crown… or how you will walk away from one or the other. I know already my choice.”

“You… would leave me, for Boothill?”

“No. Not you, brother… but… Father? I have figured that either I will have to renounce my title at some point or, if perhaps you became king, you would allow me some kindness. Even if I am no longer the princess, you will always be my brother, Sunday. That aside, you do not have the same choice as I. I cannot inherit the crown for you. You will have to decide which means more… but… whatever you choose, I will always be your sister, as well.”

“Thank you, Robin…” Sunday murmured, the ache in his heart persisting. “I am ever grateful for your words.”

She had left him with much to consider, but also the answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask. If he could so easily picture that ideal future, and if he felt raw at the thought of stripping it away, then it held significance. His desire for Aventurine held significance. He did not wish to let him go so easily…

And perhaps, after all, his behavior these past nights made more sense than he thought.

Notes:

This took me so long mostly because I was unsure about how it would come across to have them use something they'd decided they didn't like (the collar) but I promise there's reason behind it.

Chapter 13

“Will you stay?” Sunday asked as Aventurine pulled on his trousers.

“You know I can’t.”

“If not for the night, at least for the moment,” he persisted. “I have something I wish to speak about, if you would only indulge me.”

He paused, but let out a sigh and sat back down. He easily slotted himself back into the prince’s welcoming arms. Sunday had mentioned wanting to talk when he’d arrived as well, but conversation had quickly been forgotten about. He’d somewhat hoped it would remain forgotten. He was almost certain he knew what the prince wanted to say. Still, he played dumb, running his fingers along Sunday’s collarbone contemplatively.

“So, what’s troubling you?” he asked after settling in his embrace.

“It is not what is troubling me, per se, but that there is something very obviously troubling you,” the prince rumbled.

“I’m fine.”

“Please… I know that is not the case. You disliked the collar at first, but we have not gone without it since you brought it, and yet I do not think your opinion of it has changed. Whenever you think you have accidentally begun to choke me, you wear an expression of distaste and are doubly careful not to repeat the mistake. Yet despite that… It is… It is as if you fear I will flee if you do not hold my leash.”

“N-No, that’s not… I just think it looks nice on you…” he laughed hesitantly. The prince let out a sigh, curling a finger around some of the hair near Aventurine’s ear. “If you don’t like it, you should have said so sooner. We don’t have to keep using it.”

“I am not the one who dislikes it. The collar aside, you have also shown a need for assurance that I have happily supplied, and yet no matter how much I tell you that I am only yours, it does not sate you. Have I… Have I done something to betray your trust in me? Have I made you somehow think that I would indulge in another’s touch the way I have yours?”

“What? No! You- You haven’t done anything!”

“Then, it is that I have not done enough to assure you?”

It felt sickening, manipulating Aventurine like this, but after days of contemplation this was the only method he could think of to get him to be transparent with him. Attempts at normal conversation were always brushed aside the moment Aventurine's troubles were alluded to. He would distract or flee, or whatever he could do to avoid it. Aside from using tuning, Sunday could come up with no other method, so instead he would do this.

Framing it as if Sunday was the one in the wrong was a sure way to get Aventurine to admit the truth in order to prevent the kind of misunderstanding he feared would lead the prince, for Aventurine’s sake, to end their relationship. He’d tested this method numerous times in more subtle ways over the past few days. Whenever Aventurine started to think Sunday was considering ending things, he’d immediately fold. Unfortunately, his small tests had led to the unintended consequence that Aventurine’s fear had grown ever greater.

He hated resorting to these methods, causing the other undue stress, but he refused to use tuning, and his every attempt at a discussion had been brushed off. Weeks had passed and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Aventurine shifted in his arms, as if to try and walk away, but he decided he wouldn’t allow it this time. He tightened his grip around the other’s waist. Aventurine opted not to fight against it.

“That’s not it. I… You haven’t done anything wrong. You're perfect, I just… It’s just… r-role play, you know? Saying things you don’t really mean. You shouldn’t take everything I say during sex so seriously. Really, I’m fine.”

“Perhaps I would believe that if it were only once or twice, but you have come every night for weeks with this… need to prove your possession of me. I do not bring this up because I dislike it, any of it, but it makes me concerned for you. What have I done to make you feel this way, or what have I not done to give you this fear? What can I do to assure you properly?”

“I- I already said you have done nothing wrong…”

“Then it must mean that I am not doing enough, so please tell me what more I need to do. I do not wish for you to worry like this because of me.”

“It’s not because of you!” Aventurine snapped, finally folding. “I just… I just… I can’t help but think about- I don’t… Never mind. We can stop with the collar and everything. I won’t bring it up again if you don’t like it, I just-“

“What can you not stop thinking about? Please, Kakavasha, just tell me.”

“I… It’s my problem to deal with. I’m sorry that it has troubled you. I will-“

“Then go,” Sunday frowned, releasing Aventurine from his embrace.

He looked away when Aventurine balked at him, caught off guard. As much as he wanted to hide behind his wings, he forced them back and schooled his expression to show anger, rather than the grief gnawing at him. A last ditch effort to make Aventurine confess what was worrying him.

“W-What?”

“If I can do nothing to quell this trouble… If all I can do is make your worries worse… I will not do that to you. So, go. Do not return.”

“Just- W-Wait. You- You just mean, like, tomorrow, right? When do you want me to come, then?”

Sunday let out a sigh as he closed his eyes. He knew he would break immediately if he saw Aventurine’s expression. He certainly tried, turning Sunday to face him, but he kept his eyes closed. He had to blindly pull his hands off him.

“No. Not just tomorrow…”

“You- You’re ending things? Just like that? Hey, look at me!” Aventurine pleaded, but Sunday shook his head.

“I have said already that I refuse to be the source of your pain, and yet it is clear to me that is all I have caused… so, I will do it no longer.”

“N-No! I- That’s not- You think ending things like this won’t pain me?”

“I would rather cause you this temporary hurt than the ongoing struggles you’ve been suffering,” he snapped, opening his eyes and immediately hesitating when he saw Aventurine’s tears. His muscles surged by instinct to hold him again, but instead he stood and turned away. “I cannot continue to turn a blind eye any longer, so we will part ways here. Please just… go…”

As the silence stretched between them, his resolve wavered. He feared Aventurine would actually leave. Could he not bear to share his troubles with Sunday that adamantly? Perhaps he truly did not trust him after all. Perhaps… Perhaps Sunday actually was the cause. After a moment, he could hear Aventurine stand. He wanted to turn around, but he refused. If he left… he would let him. If that was what he wanted…

“Jade,” Aventurine said, his voice trembling and weak. Sunday felt his arms curl around him and hair tickling his skin as Aventurine rested his head against the back of his shoulder. “I keep thinking about you marrying that woman, or if not her, then some other noble lady. I can’t- I can’t stand it. I know I have no claim to you, but…”

Aventurine sucked in a shaking breath. Sunday’s skin was damp with his tears, but even when he tried to turn around, Aventurine’s grip stopped him. He waited patiently, running a hand along one of Aventurine’s arms without the ability to do anything else to soothe him.

“I don’t want to think about someone else holding you. I don’t want to think about you pleasuring them. I don’t want to think about… about never getting to see you again. Whether it’s Jade or someone else, you’ll have to get married and abandon me and I- I hate it. I have no right to feel this way. You’ve never been mine, you can’t be mine, but I want you anyway and I don’t know how to… I don’t know how to deal with this. I know I’m wrong here but please… Please don’t make me leave. Not yet. Just give me a little more time to get over this and then I’ll… I’ll do whatever you say. I promise.”

Sunday sighed, forcing him to let go so he could turn around. Aventurine kept his head down, fists clenched as Sunday held his wrists. He tried to back away, thinking Sunday was about to refuse him, but the prince instead pulled him forward. He hiccuped as warm arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling his head against Sunday’s chest and holding it there. Faintly, in the temporary silence, he could almost hear the steady beats of the prince’s heart.

“So you thought me a liar when I said I was yours?” Aventurine’s breath hitched, but he did not respond, so Sunday continued. “I am yours, and no one else’s. You are the one that I cannot claim, for the men in your past who have abused such a privilege. I will not be marrying Lady Bonajade, nor anyone else. I do not think I could even take pleasure in another’s touch. In that way, I am certain you have ruined me.”

“You say that as if you’ll have a choice in the matter,” Aventurine spoke quietly, voice muffled as he nuzzled into Sunday’s neck.

“Of course there is a choice. Try as he might… my father cannot force me to marry. Any attempt in doing so will only result in him losing his only heir.”

“W-What? What do you mean by that?”

“If he brings up marriage with Lady Bonajade and I refuse, in what way can he punish me, truly? He can threaten to revoke my place as crown prince, but there would then be no one to replace me. Robin has made her stance clear, years ago in front of the council.”

“What… did she do?”

“I am older than Robin by a mere seventeen minutes, but that seventeen minutes labeled me as the primary successor to the crown. However, if I am unable to inherit it, it would then go to her. She… I have always felt that I should be the one protecting her, but in truth she has done much to protect me. So that father could no longer hang the threat of exile over my head, she stated plainly in front of the council that she would never accept the crown unless I was dead or permanently disabled. In that sense, even if I refuse to marry, anything my father could threaten me with would be nothing more than an empty bluff. He cannot force me to marry Lady Bonajade, even if he wishes to. You need not dwell on such possibilities. I was not speaking empty words when I gave you ownership over me,” Sunday explained, placing a light kiss on Aventurine’s temple. “I am yours, Kakavasha, and no one else’s, until the day you decide you no longer wish to have me.”

“What if… What if that day never comes? You’re just going to be an unmarried king?” Aventurine swallowed, trying to ignore the warmth flooding his chest.

“If you are still in my arms by the time I become king… then I will not be unmarried.”

He felt dizzy, swimming in the implications of the confession. It felt tooth-rottingly sweet, too sweet. It was undeserved. It was exactly what he wanted and yet why, why did it feel like he was clutching thorny vines instead of flower stems. He pulled out of Sunday’s arms, fighting to keep his breathing steady.

“Kakav-”

“It’s late. I should go.”

“But-”

“I- I just- I need to go. I need to think… I…” he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’ll return, I promise. If not tomorrow, then the next day. I just… I need…”

“Okay,” Sunday answered, reaching forward and brushing through his hair for just a moment. “I will wait. Get home safely.”

Aventurine grabbed the rest of his belongings and fled after rapidly tugging on his blouse. The way his heart was hammering against his ribs was painful enough that he briefly wondered if he wasn’t having a heart attack. He paused just outside the castle walls, clutching his chest as he sank down beside a building. It was cool outside, which he was ever thankful for with how overheated he felt.

The next morning, Ratio watched unamused as Aventurine burst into his quarters, saying nothing as he glanced around to ensure the doctor was not with company and then pacing agitatedly around the room. Despite seeing him open his mouth multiple times as if to start ranting about something or another, the gambler remained quiet, the only noise between them being the frequently faltering steps, and the soft bubbling of the foul-smelling tonic Ratio was presently working on. After what felt like at least fifteen minutes, he finally managed to speak.

“The prince has feelings for me,” he stated, before covering his mouth and furrowing his brows as if the statement was perplexing and not a long-established fact.

“Yes, and?” Ratio sighed.

“What do you mean and ? Ratio, the fucking crown prince has feelings for me.”

“You’re saying that as if you’ve just realized it. Had I not told you that already months ago?”

“No, no- I mean- actually . Not just… Not just wanting to sleep with me, but…”

“Gambler…” Ratio groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Please tell me you did not only now learn this, even after I specifically told you about his affections months ago.”

“Well, no, but… Look, yes, you told me and I knew that he felt something more than just wanting to fuck me, and it’s not like I was unaware I felt the same but- That was- That’s not… It was the same as the feelings you have after a first date goes well. You think they’re perfect and picture your entire life together but it’s so fleeting that by the time you meet them for the third time you realize they’re blander than unseasoned rice and you can’t stand the sound of their breathing.”

“Is that a familiar phenomenon to you?”

“It wasn’t meant to be anything serious. I… I wasn’t meant to- I can’t just… Maybe… Maybe I misunderstood him or I’m reading way too far into things and he just meant-”

“Gambler, I beg of you, stop your rambling and explain the problem.”

“He said that he- Rather, he implied that he would… marry me,” Aventurine coughed out.

“Oh? And how did he imply this?”

“It’s a long story…”

“Then you may as well start telling it,” Ratio bit, holding his head in his hand as he tiredly started to stir the simmering mixture in front of him.

“Well… Last night, we were talking and… That Fool, Sparkle… She told me that Jade has been meeting with the king, that the reason is probably to marry the prince and so I brought it up with him. He told me he had no intentions on marrying her or anyone else as long as we were… um… together . I asked if he intended to be an unmarried king, as- as a jest. He… He said that… He said, ‘If I am still with him when he becomes king, he will not be unmarried.’ Maybe… Maybe I’m misunderstanding what he meant by that, or… I don’t… I don’t know…”

“I see,” Ratio droned, still sounding unimpressed.

“You- You said once that… that all of this is just… chemicals or brain signals or something, right?” Aventurine questioned, turning for the first time to actually face Ratio.

“Clarify.”

“You- You know… L-Love is just… a brain chemical… Not- Not that I’m saying I’m- I mean… I just- If that were the case, then its just some chemical fucking with my brain and surely, as a reputable physician, you can fix it, right?”

“Gambler… I may be a bit of a cynic, but not even I am so disillusioned as to equate love to a malady requiring treatment.”

“It is when it can’t happen!” Aventurine snapped, grumbling something more to himself a moment later.

“From the sound of it, it is happening. Once again you are making catastrophic problems out of nothing.”

“No. I’m not. This is a problem, Ratio. How do you not see that? I- I only meant to… to just enjoy things for a while, until we both got over whatever this was and moved on. This wasn’t supposed to become anything.”

“If you do not return his feelings- Which, I should say that your panicking right now indicates they are in fact shared- then you should simply tell him that you only saw your arrangement as a casual affair and allow it to inevitably fizzle out as you planned. Not my recommended course of action, but…”

“What do you mean ‘inevitably fizzle out’?”

“Well, if the man is in love with you and you tell him it is not returned, he will likely cut things off rather than drag things out and allow himself to grow more attached. At the very least, that is what I would do.”

Aventurine paused as his heart sank at the mere thought. Sunday had already tried to end things last night, had indicated a few times over the past weeks that he was willing to end things, but then he had also said the very opposite, that he was willing to stay with Aventurine forever. It made him dizzy, trying to figure it out. Was it all just sweet words to make Aventurine feel better? Maybe he hadn’t even meant any of it, and now Aventurine was freaking out over nothing. He was the one who didn’t want things to end, so much that he’d gotten so clingy that Sunday had nearly kicked him out.

“You… said that wasn’t what you recommend. What do you recommend, then?” he asked slowly, closing his eyes so they’d stop stinging.

“Tell him that you love him, because clearly you do. I understand why you find fault in it but… if he has already implied that he would forgo his expectations as the regent, then it seems a problem he has already found a solution to.”

“He’s just relying on the idea that his sister will refuse the crown if his inheritance is taken from him,” Aventurine scoffed.

“Hmm… Well, as far as I am aware, he is not incorrect. I do believe she already has planned for some time to refuse her birthright.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Because I am her physician. As her physician, I am privy to certain information as it pertains to her health… such as any partners she may have, in a similar vein to the crown prince.”

“Well… I think I remember Sunday mentioning something like that, actually,” he mumbled before shaking his head. “Ugh… Just… screw this. You weren’t any help after all. I was hoping you’d have some- some tonic to fix my brain but all you’re giving me is a headache.”

“Again, gambler… There is nothing wrong with you to fix. Love is not an ailment, especially not when it is returned. You should consider-”

“I’m not in love,” Aventurine interrupted before turning sharply toward the door. “I’m not in love…”

How could he be? He’d known the prince, what… five months now? All they’d ever done is sleep together. Sure, it felt nice, and sure they’d talked some here and there, before and after, but that wasn’t enough to fall in love with someone, surely. Not that Aventurine knew much about love per se. His “relationships” had never gone outside a bedroom before, or even existed without payment. He remembered stories, though.

His sister had told him stories about how their parents had met, and romantic stories about far off princes and princesses and falling in love over years of chance encounters, of dates, and on and on. Love stories were never a few weeks or months of meeting solely after midnight. He wasn’t in love, and neither was the prince.

He stared at the satchel sitting on his dining table, left there after he’d gotten home the night before. Inside was the usual wares, at least, usual for the past while. A collar and leash, some rope, a bottle of lubricant. While he’d intended before to bring something new every few meetings, he’d only brought the same for the past week… two weeks? He’d honestly started to lose track.

It was no wonder that Sunday had grown bored of it, of him. Maybe if he brought something new like they’d agreed upon, he’d agree to just forget about all of this. What could he bring though that they’d not already tried? Most of the variety in his wares came in the form of different shape or size. Even if it was larger or smaller or straight or curved, a phallus was still a phallus, and a plug was still a plug. He was running out of options for something completely new. There were whips and gags and floggers, but… those were all things he could bear even less than the collar.

Did he need to just… get over it? Pretend he had no distaste for them? Since they were usually used with him facing down, Sunday wouldn’t be able to see his face. He used to be rather good at feigning pleasure no matter what was done to him, so why did that seem so impossible now? Perhaps if Sunday decided he didn’t like it, he could pretend it didn’t matter to him at all, but what if he did? What if, for all his saying he had no desire to cause Aventurine pain, he did in fact enjoy it? Would Aventurine be able to keep pretending?

Maybe it was for the better. Maybe if he liked it, if he stopped treating Aventurine so tenderly, he could move past this aching in his chest. If it no longer felt safe in those arms, if it no longer felt comfortable against his chest, he could finally walk away.

The next evening, after closing the shop, he took with him the items he needed. They felt heavy in his bag, heavier than they actually were. Perhaps it was not them, but the sinking dread that felt like it was dragging him into the cobblestones, or perhaps it was weariness from his lack of sleep the night before.

Realistically, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full night of sleep, but he usually got at least an hour or two. Last night he wasn’t even granted that, try as he had. He was tired, but perhaps it was better that way. His exhaustion could help dull the bile already roiling in his stomach at what he’d planned. Besides, he told the prince he’d return soon, and he already hadn’t seen him the night before. If he took longer, how could he convince him that things were fine?

When he let himself into Sunday’s chambers, the prince was nowhere to be seen, despite the late hour. He decided to just wait, and to prepare himself in the meantime. He removed his disguise slowly, and emptied his satchel, lining the items neatly on the bed. He’d given himself a choice. Paddle, or flogger. The collar had been left at home, and he brought no ropes with him. He hesitated as he pulled out the last item, a simple gag. Even though this one had a ring, meaning it wouldn’t restrict his ability to breathe, he rather hated wearing them in the past. They were uncomfortable, hurting both his mouth and his jaw, and it felt gross being unable to close his mouth. Not to mention being unable to speak around it.

He took a deep breath, setting it down next to the other items. His satchel was placed with the scarf and glasses, and he started to disrobe, folding his clothes on top of the pile. Normally, he’d wait for Sunday. The prince seemed to enjoy being the one to strip him, to prepare him… but not this time. He knelt on the bed as he wet his own fingers, groaning quietly as he pushed them inside. It was enough to silence his ever spiraling thoughts as he stretched himself out. He didn’t have the energy to focus on anything else.

The door clicked open shortly after he’d started pushing a third finger inside. Sunday paused briefly in the doorway, surprised, before he hurriedly pulled it shut and locked it behind him. Aventurine didn’t say anything, just continued what he was doing while eyeing the prince and tilting his head to the side. There was no hesitance when Sunday approached him. He’d long stopped being shy.

His hands cupped both sides of Aventurine’s face as he kissed him. It was needy how he pressed their lips together, as if he’d been made to wait weeks instead of just a single day. There was urgency in the way he joined Aventurine on the bed and pulled him into his lap. There was reverence in the hand that slid from his cheek down to caress his spine, leaving tingling trails along it until his fingers brushed against Aventurine’s wrist.

“Did I make you wait for so long that you grew impatient for it?” he questioned as they parted.

He did not wait for an answer before busying his mouth elsewhere. Open lips moved along his neck until teeth were able to tug lightly, teasingly on his earlobe. Aventurine took his hand away when he felt Sunday’s fingers pressing against his stretched rim, allowing him to take over. He let out a breath as Sunday’s fingers entered him with intent, pleasuring him in a way that Aventurine had been avoiding.

“Where were you?” he quietly whined in lieu of an answer to the prince’s earlier question.

“A poorly timed meeting.”

“It’s past midnight,” Aventurine pointed out, pulling away to look Sunday in the eyes.

“As I said, poorly timed… and longer than it should have been as well.”

“With who? For what?”

Despite the annoyance clear in his voice and expression at the meeting, Aventurine couldn’t stop himself from questioning it. Even with his mind screaming at him that it was none of his business, he continued to pull away, enough that Sunday’s fingers left him. The prince let out a sigh, pulling him close again by his hips and placing a soft kiss next to Aventurine’s eye.

“Oti Alfalfa. One of the council members. He insisted it was an emergency, but I should have known better. I am not certain if he just enjoys exaggerating or if that old Pepeshi truly does not know the meaning of the word. He often claims emergencies of things that could well wait until a more proper time.”

“Oh… I see…”

“I just worry that it will be the one occasion that I decide his emergencies are not worth my time, that it truly will be an emergency needing my attention… I am sorry if you had been waiting long.”

“N-No, not really. I just… figured I could get stretching myself out of the way, since you weren’t here.”

Sunday hummed as he kissed along Aventurine’s jaw. His hands left his hips to start unbuttoning his own clothes, though it wasn’t long before Aventurine took over the act of stripping him. His eyes fell on the other items left ignored on the bed after his vest and shirt had been discarded. He leant back while Aventurine started to loosen his trousers, fingers stretching over to poke at the paddle.

“I am unfamiliar with what you have brought today.”

“I thought I would let you choose which you’d prefer to use, between the paddle and the flogger.”

“I… assume, by their appearance… their intended use is… for you to strike me?”

“Of course not,” Aventurine scoffed. “I wouldn’t dare to strike the crown prince. Though, you are correct about their use, just not the target.”

“You wish for me to use this to strike you?” the prince frowned, picking up the flogger and running the leather strips over his fingers. “Have you… enjoyed this activity before?”

“I have… done it before, yes.”

“But you have not enjoyed it,” Sunday reiterated, immediately catching Aventurine’s attempted deception.

“That’s not important. The whole purpose of this arrangement is for you to try what is new to you, to see if you enjoy it. I-”

“Not at the expense of your own enjoyment,” Sunday stated adamantly.

It was jarring, the way he spoke so forcefully without even raising his voice. The expression of displeasure clear on his face. There was no room left for persuasion or argument. Aventurine swallowed, looking away by instinct. He needed to say something, to explain, to justify his decision to bring it here, but the words wouldn’t come, swirling ceaselessly in the raging tide of his mind. Then, when Sunday shifted beneath him, it all flooded forth in raging panic.

“Wait, wait! Don’t- Don’t make me leave. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I- I didn’t bring anything else, but-”

“Kakavasha, stop,” Sunday ordered in a whisper.

It felt like trying to swallow glass, the way his voice caught in his throat. Sunday lifted him off his lap, guiding him to sit before he stood himself, taking the paddle and gag with him and dumping all three objects onto his desk with a clatter. His eyes stung even once he’d closed them. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen…

“You were the one who made the rules. You said specifically that you do not like being choked, and you do not enjoy pain,” Sunday spoke softly as he sat back on the mattress. “Why would you bring something that explicitly breaks your own rules?”

“I’m sorry,” was all he replied, his voice sounding as small as he felt.

Sunday exhaled a quiet sigh. He pulled Aventurine into his arms before laying them both down, struggling for only a moment get get the covers out and over them. Once he had, he pulled Aventurine even closer, tucked tightly against his chest, and started brushing slowly through his hair.

“I am not upset with you,” he muttered. “I am only frustrated, because I do not understand what is going through your head that you would do this to yourself- That you would ask me to do this to you, when I am certain I have made myself clear that I do not wish to cause you any harm.”

“It’s… It’s harmless. Plenty of couples-”

“It is only harmless if it is something that you enjoy, and you clearly know already you do not.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You do not need to apologize. I simply wish for you to explain so I may understand. Did I say something to make you think I wanted this sort of thing?”

“You… were getting bored of me. I didn’t have anything new to bring except those, so…”

“When did I ever say I had gotten bored of you?” Sunday sputtered, leaning back to look and see Aventurine dodging his gaze.

“You didn’t have to say it… but that is why you want to end things, right? I kept only bringing that collar and so… So…”

“I do not want to end this. The only reason I had tried the other night was because it seemed as if this relationship was becoming harmful to you. I even said as much. I told you, for as long as you want me-”

“Isn’t that all just pretty words? Sure, you say that, but it’s because you wanted to- to soothe me. That doesn’t mean you actually want me around disrupting your life forever,” Aventurine spat, trying and failing to push out of Sunday’s embrace.

Sunday kept a calm demeanor, but his mind raced with countless questions. Did Aventurine really think he had been lying to him? Had he garnered so little trust? Had someone else told him that his words meant nothing, or had he come to that conclusion on his own? He had thought he’d been able to explain himself the other day. He had thought, even with Aventurine’s swift exit, perhaps they’d started to mend things. Then when he came into his room, immediately greeted with the sight of Aventurine nude and pleasuring himself on his bed, he was even more certain that things were okay between them. Yet, now?

How long had Aventurine been thinking like this? What had caused it? What could he do to fix it? How could he convince him that he meant every word? Was this also to do with Lady Bonajade, or was this an entirely separate issue? He took a deep breath, gathering his words.

“Do you truly think so little of me?”

“What?”

“I have said before… I have never once lied to you. I mean my every word. I meant it entirely, when I said that I am yours, as long as you will have me. When I said that I care for you, when I said that I wish not to harm you… All of it. I have not lied. I will not lie. Whatever assurance you need from me, I will give. Whatever action you require as proof, I will take. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“People will say all kinds of things to get what they want…” Aventurine muttered, trying to ignore how his heart was pounding. “I should know that better than anyone.”

“This is true, but then what is it you think I am wanting from you? I am no ordinary man. I need not money or power. I want for nothing… so the only thing I could want from you… is you. Why then, do you suspect I am trying to deceive you for something else?”

“W-Well… I… I’m not worth… I just- Even the men who bought me didn’t want to keep me for long. Do you know how many times I was sold? I just-”

He broke off his own words as Sunday pulled him closer, tighter in his arms. His breath hitched when he felt the prince kiss the top of his head. He was still running his fingers through his hair soothingly, pressing him ever closer to a steady heartbeat. He couldn’t even speak, with the realization that no one had ever held him like this. At the very least, not that he could remember, not since he was a child too young to form memories.

“You should not define your worth by the standards of men who did not even value you as a human being. You are not a product to be sold or traded. I mourn that you have ever been treated otherwise.”

The bitterness on his tongue started to fade as he slowly relaxed with the feeling of being cradled like a precious commodity. It was warm, wrapped up in Sunday and under his thick covers. The soothing fingers in his hair, the quietly thumping heartbeat by his ear, all of it could have almost lulled him to sleep. It was a sweetness he didn’t feel he deserved, but one Sunday was giving him without even being asked for it.

“Seven,” he murmured, bracing himself for how this conversation might end.

“Hmm?”

“That is… how many times I was… purchased. I was only eleven when my sister… died. She told me to run, to never look back. I was on my own for a while. By my thirteenth birthday, I made it out of Sigonia, only to be caught by slavers just past the border. They sold me to my first master .”

He grimaced at the word, not that Sunday could see it with how he was tucked into his chest. The prince didn’t say anything, silently allowing him to say as much or as little as he desired. He took a moment before continuing, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.

“He kept me for… two years before I grew too old for his tastes. The man he sold me to had me for a measly three months before he gave me away to offload a debt. His debtor had me for around a year before getting rid of me. The fourth man who bought me kept me the longest. He figured out he could make more money off of me by selling my company, an hour or night at a time. In that respect… I suppose I’ve lost count just how many people have owned me, at least for a while.”

“Kakavasha…”

“He rented me out for five years, until one of the men who’d borrowed me regularly asked to purchase me permanently… I suppose whatever amount he offered, he deemed it enough. Still, a year later, that one decided I was more fun to use just for a night, rather than all the time. I don’t know how much the others paid for me, but the last one told me. He paid… sixty tanba. Just… Just sixty tanba.”

“Tanba… is the currency of Melustanin, isn’t it?”

“I passed through a few kingdoms as my ownership changed hands. That’s just… where I ended up.”

“I-”

“He had heard about my unnatural luck, somehow. So, he purchased me for sixty tanba, just so he could test it. Instead of… having me flip coins or roll dice though… he decided the best way to test it was to stick me in a room with thirty-four others and tell us all that only one would be allowed to leave. We didn’t even have weapons, just the chains around our wrists…”

“You do not have to tell me any more if you do not want to,” Sunday said after a few moments passed without him finishing the story. Aventurine shook his head. He’d already told most of it.

“When there was no one else still breathing but me, he unlocked the door. I- Maybe… there was still… some part of me that didn’t recognize the fight was over. When the door opened… I…”

“You… killed him? The one who had… bought you?”

“Yeah. Then, my final purchase… Well… She didn’t pay a single coin. Her prices… They’re always different.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jade,” he answered, pausing to let it sink in. “The man I killed was her uncle, and who would buy a slave who’d killed their last master anyway? When I was brought before her… I made her a bet, that she wouldn’t take me to my execution, that I would be worth more to her still alive. I… have never lost a bet. At least, not as long as the wager has been my life.”

“You mean to tell me that you are still…”

“Well… I never said I’d ever stopped being a slave. My leash is just… a little looser than it used to be.”

When he dared to pull away and look up, he could see the way his confession was haunting Sunday. He looked torn between grief and burning fury, but was clamping it all down for the sake of the man in his arms. He still had his orchestrated calm, even as he slowly opened his mouth to speak. It broke only slightly when he brushed a thumb along the bottom of one of Aventurine’s eyes, wiping away a not-quite fallen tear.

“Such a thing is not legal in Asdana. I can-”

“No, you can’t. Like I said, she didn’t pay a single coin for me. As far as Asdanan law is concern, she has committed no crime. On the contrary… I’m the one who killed a man.”

“You cannot be blamed for that. It was in your own defense. If anything, he would be the one liable. Thirty four deaths- That blood is on his hands. Not yours.”

“Maybe if it had happened here… but it makes no difference. That woman… I can do nothing against her. If I were even to try… I am still a fugitive of Melustanin. It would be laughably easy for her to send me back.”

“I wish I knew of this sooner. I can look into this for you, and-”

“There’s no point. I’ve been in Penacony for four years now. If there was something I could do to escape her, don’t you think I would have found it by now?”

“Please, have some faith in me,” Sunday murmured. “I promise you, I will see you free of her.”

“I- I wish that were true, but I-”

“If you cannot trust me, then place your faith on that… luck, that you had mentioned. You said that you have never lost a bet, so then bet on me.”

“Bet… on you?” Aventurine repeated, stifling a laugh. “Fine then. I’ll take that wager. I bet… that in the end, you will be the only one who can claim ownership over me.”

“I swear to you, I will not disappoint you.”

“Mm… I’ll bet my life on it.”

Chapter 14

It had been nearly a week. Sunday had rethought through every word he’d spoken when he last saw Aventurine, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. He believed they’d finally talked things through. Aventurine had even spent the night, and when he left in the morning, nothing had seemed off. Yet, he hadn’t come back since then. Granted, neither had Sunday sought him out, but he had scarcely needed to do so in quite some time. Had he learned Aventurine’s impatience? There were countless reasons Aventurine may have not been able to come to him, so why did his absence worry him so?

An inconspicuous trip to the market disguised his quick pass by a once familiar shop. The sign on the door read “Closed until further notice” which only left him even more concerned. Even if something had gone wrong between the two of them, there was no reason for his store to be closed. Had he fallen ill again? Had something happened with Lady Bonajade? Maybe he had decided to just run away entirely, from her, from his past… from Sunday as well.

There was a lump in his throat as he made his way back to the castle. His legs carried him to the royal physician’s chambers, the only person he knew Aventurine considered a friend. Ratio was occupied, wrapping the arm of one of the knights in training, Lord Antony, if Sunday’s memory served him. He waited patiently, waving off the concern that he needed Ratio’s attention urgently. He didn’t speak at all until Antony was well on his way back to the barracks.

“I have not heard from Aventurine in a few days, and I saw earlier today that his shop is closed indefinitely. Do you know anything about this?” he asked only once Ratio had finished putting away his tools.

“Hm? You mean he didn’t tell you?”

“He did not tell me what , exactly?”

“He is in the Xianzhou Alliance right now, for at least a week or two. Considering he consulted with me about the trip, I assumed he would have told you before leaving as well.”

“He consulted with you? Why has he gone there?”

“‘Product research’ was all he said to me. His consultation with me was more just to ask if there were any herbs native to the area I would want him to acquire for me.”

“I… I see. Thank you, for informing me. I was worried perhaps he had fallen ill again, but I am glad to see that is not the case,” Sunday sighed, his concern slowly ebbing away to make room for bitter irritation.

“Your highness, if I may…” Ratio interrupted as he made to leave. “Before he left, he came to me rather troubled by something. He claimed you… alluded to… potentially cementing your partnership, in the future?”

“Ah- I… Yes, I confess I may have. He was… upset about something he learned about someone vying for my proposal. I assured him I had no intentions of marrying anyone at all… unless he were still by my side come the time my father no longer has say over my actions. The last time we saw each other, I thought I had put to bed those concerns of his, but then he disappeared like this, leaving me to wonder. However, it seems he already had plans to be away… so, I will have to wait until he returns.”

“I understand now… That damned gambler,” he grumbled. “He is fortunate you are so patient with him, honestly.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind it. If I find out anything about when he is expected to return, I will be sure to inform you, your highness. Stay well.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

He no longer tried to stay up, in case Aventurine might come to see him at night, and yet his sleep didn’t seem to improve either. It was fair enough if he had to travel for business matters, but could he have not let Sunday know? He did not seem upset in the morning, and he must have known he’d be leaving, so why not say something? At least so Sunday knew he could not come around for some time.

Maybe he was upset, then. Maybe he still did not trust Sunday. Maybe he had taken offense to Sunday’s insistence to help free him from Lady Bonajade. Maybe all that talk of betting on him was nothing more than playing along with Sunday’s stubbornness. Maybe he regretted informing Sunday about his past, about his current circumstances as well. Maybe this trip to the Alliance was nothing more than an excuse and he was cutting ties. Maybe he had fled indeed, and told Ratio he was going to the Xianzhou Alliance in case Jade questioned him to sniff him out.

Headaches were a familiar sensation to Sunday over the next few days as his mind swirled incessantly with rampant possibilities of all sorts. As much as he could spiral into the depths of his doubt, there was also much that left him curiously optimistic. Although he had left without a word shortly after, he had trusted Sunday with the story of his past. It was not something Sunday had even dared to ask of him. He had given it freely.

Then, there was the knowledge that the very reason for their brief conflict had stemmed from Aventurine’s fear that Sunday would abandon him for someone else’s favor. It therefore seemed unlikely that he would then be the one to leave, so suddenly and so shortly after Sunday had done his best to quell those fears. And in fact, if Lady Bonajade had done something that left Aventurine feeling as if he had no choice but to flee, he doubted he would have taken the time to inform Ratio of his departure, or even put up a sign on his storefront to make aware his absence.

It was just shy of three weeks after their last meeting that Sunday’s door quietly opened, thirteen minutes after midnight. He was completely awake, but he feigned sleep as Aventurine entered. Ratio had informed him earlier that day that he caught Aventurine reentering the city from its eastern gate, so he was already expecting his arrival. He felt the mattress dip as he sat beside him, then felt fingers brushing aside his hair gently.

“You know, your highness… Your halo isn’t visible when you’re actually asleep,” Aventurine whispered, his smile evident in his voice. Sunday’s eyes blinked open, already caught.

“I… forgot about that entirely, actually.”

“I should say sorry,” Aventurine frowned as Sunday started to sit up. “Ratio gave me quite an earful earlier. I… To be honest, it slipped my mind to tell you I’d be going away for a while. Whenever I was around you, I just had too much else I was thinking about, and when I finally remembered, it was after I had already left… but then I somehow managed to convince myself that I had already told you, and… Ugh, just… I’m sorry. I should have told you or at least sent you a letter once I thought about it after leaving. I didn’t mean to- to just disappear on you.”

“I see. At least it was not purposeful, then… but for how long did you know you would be taking this trip?”

“Well… It wasn’t something I planned far in advance. Maybe only a day or two before I left.”

Sunday pushed aside his covers and stretched out his arms to welcome Aventurine within them. There was a moment of hesitation as Aventurine tried to decipher whether or not the prince was upset with him. He appeared neutral, but Ratio had made it abundantly clear that he’d been worried by his absence, enough to come to Ratio about it.

“Why did you leave to the Xianzhou Alliance anyway?” Sunday questioned once Aventurine finally sank into his embrace.

“Some product research. I needed to meet with a couple foxians, and they’re scarcely found here in Asdana. Not to mention I wasn’t about to just go around questioning strangers about it, so I had to seek out the ones I already knew, and both of the foxians I am acquainted with live there. One in the Luofu province and the other in Yaoqing.”

“I am admittedly somewhat surprised you are acquainted with them from so far away.”

“Well… One of them has traveled here on occasion for work, and she’s had to collaborate with the IPC guild on those occasions, so we’ve met a few times. The other… Truthfully it was my first time meeting with him , but his partner has purchased from me before, even if it was accidental the first time.”

“He purchased from you… accidentally?”

“He was looking for a whip for some far less pleasurable purposes, and when he asked someone where he could acquire one, he was directed to my shop. He figured out as soon as he walked in that the person had misunderstood him, but he purchased one from me anyway, stating it was suitable enough. Then he came back a few days later to make an actual purchase, which was how I learned about his partner and that he was from the Yaoqing province. That’s also how I knew he and his partner likely wouldn’t take offense to the subject matter of my questions.”

Aventurine grinned to himself as a hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, fingers splaying across his stomach. He wasn’t even sure if Sunday was still listening to him, with the way small kisses were being left on his neck while the prince’s hands explored his skin. Yet, a moment later, he pulled away just slightly, just to say two words.

“Keep going.”

“Ah, well…” he chuckled, relaxing further against the body behind him. “I don’t think there’s more to say. I met with Miss Tingyun first in Loufu, got her opinions, then went south to Yaoqing to meet with that customer and his partner. Apparently he’s a physician. He was… quite the character. I don’t mean that in a bad way. Before I could even speak, two seconds into meeting me, he scolded me for being too skinny and insisted on making food for me.”

“I cannot say I disagree with him,” Sunday hummed, pinching his belly as if to prove exactly that point.

“I eat enough,” Aventurine pouted.

“Mm… Let me ask you… Why stock a product for foxians when they are so uncommon here in Penacony? You had to travel all that way, but I do not understand the reason.”

“Oh, well… Actually the product itself would be rather useless for a foxian,” he laughed lightly, picturing it in his head. “Although, I say that… but that doctor did ask me to send him a sample once the production was completed. He even gave me the right color material. I rather think it’s something he must have thought about before.”

“The… right color?”

“Mm, grey, the same shade as his partner’s hair. I gave it to Argenti already, as well as the specifications for him to make a few prototypes for me. He was quite amused by the idea, so I imagine it won’t take him long. He works faster when inspi- Ah!”

He startled as one of Sunday’s hands slid past the waistband of his trousers. Fingers gingerly ran along his member, making him completely forget what he was talking about. He was almost certain when he felt the curl of lips against his ear that he had done it all on purpose.

“Keep going,” the prince once again ordered.

“Wh-What?”

“You left me without a word, for three weeks. Surely you can use those saved words properly now.”

“Ah, I- I said I was sorry.”

“I waited for you…” Sunday murmured. “Every night, I waited for you, and you did not come. I was left wondering if I had done something wrong, or worse if something had happened to you. If you had fallen ill again, if Lady Bonajade had done something, if something else had been troubling you that you did not trust enough to tell me. I wondered to myself, if for any reason you felt you had to flee from Penacony, from Asdana… would I even be granted a goodbye?”

“I… I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Whatever you want me to do to make up for it, I promise you- Ngh…”

It was hard to concentrate with Sunday's hands still on him, unceasing. The once gently teasing fingers had curled around to stroke him properly even while the prince scolded him. Hot air danced over his shoulder as Sunday chuckled behind him.

“Then just keep talking. About your trip, about work… about whatever you want. The words are not so important as the sound of your voice,” was the prince’s request. “I missed you terribly.”

“O-Oh…”

The various marks that once covered his skin had all faded completely while he was away, and Sunday started to replenish them while he waited for Aventurine to comply. He felt warmer than ever, even as his shirt was dragged upward and his trousers tugged down to expose him more completely. He shivered as fingers pressed down against his stomach, right above his belly button.

“Did that physician feed you well?”

“Y-You really want me to talk while you’re doing this to- to me?” he gasped out as that hand once again wrapped around his member.

“I suppose you can consider it your penance.”

“Ha! Penance… Is this normally the type of- the… the type of thing you order people to- ah- to do as the Bronze whatever.”

“The Bronze Melodia,” Sunday corrected. “Why are you asking about that?”

“Well… That’s what it is, right? People tell you their fuck ups and you tell them how to repent.”

“It is… not quite that simple, but I suppose it is close enough. Repentance should indeed be in direct correlation to the sin committed. While I would of course never do this or order this with anyone else, is it not appropriate for our situation?” he hummed. “Yet you are trying to avoid it, and making me do all the talking instead. Perhaps you do not wish to be forgiven.”

“Ah- No, I… It’s- You’re making it quite hard to focus when you-”

Aventurine bit his lip as the hand that had been holding his stomach snuck around to his backside and the pad of Sunday’s finger rubbed over his entrance. It was just a tease, retreating just as quickly, but somehow that was worse. A whine was strangled out of his throat as his head fell back fully against the prince’s shoulder.

“Please, your highness…”

“Hmm? Your words, Kakavasha. Did you truly leave without telling me because you had forgotten how to use them?” he taunted.

“Hah… Perhaps your highness does have a hidden cruel streak,” Aventurine laughed breathlessly. His mouth felt parched and his body felt hot. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Sunday reach to the side, opening his top bedside drawer and procuring a familiar bottle. “I had to go. I had to… Fu- I had come up with the idea and wanted to look into it while it was- it was f- fresh in my mind.”

Sunday was only using a single finger, sliding it slowly in and out, but he’d already proven just how skilled he was with those long, agile fingers of his. It was like he was making a point of dodging where Aventurine wanted him, brushing the pad of his finger so gently over it to give the barest sensation, but not pressing against it in a way that would give Aventurine the pleasure he needed. Aventurine tried to grind back against him, to which he was only rewarded with the hand that had been gently stroking him now firmly holding his hip still.

“I- I already said I should have told you before leaving. At least I should have asked Ratio to tell you. I- I’m sorry. Please, your highness… This is torture. I didn’t even touch myself, barely at all while I was away. I missed you too, so please,” he whined, pulling at the hand on his hip but failing to loosen it.

“ Barely at all? Now, what does that mean? How many times?”

“Just- Just once.”

“Mm… Did you think of me?”

“Of course I did. You’re… You’re the only person I’ve ever even willingly had sex with. There is no one else I would think about. You do know that, right?”

“I know,” Sunday smiled, happy still just to hear him say it. “I know… and I am pleased nonetheless. How fortunate I am, to be the one in your thoughts.”

He nudged Aventurine’s head up with his nose, giving himself room to mark a dark mark just under his jaw, one that Aventurine already knew he would be unable to cover. A second finger entered him, stretching him cautiously. It still wasn’t enough, and he was certain the prince knew that. Even with all his begging, Sunday was still toying with him. He groaned when Sunday’s fingers stretched apart, rubbing at either side of his walls, around where he wanted him.

“What more do you want me to say?” he complained petulantly.

“I told you already. Use your words. Tell me precisely what you wish me to do. Better yet, tell me what you imagined me doing to you, when you pleasured yourself while we were apart.”

“Will you actually do it if I tell you?”

“Of course.”

“Even if… it’s something we’ve not done before?” Aventurine asked hesitantly, remembering exactly what he’d pictured alone in his room in Luofu.”

“So long as it is something I am physically capable of,” Sunday hummed.

“Just how strange of an imagination do you think I- I have?”

“You would be surprised, the kinds of questions I have heard from certain… bolder ladies of the court. Usually… misconceptions about Halovian biology.”

“What? Like… controlling minds?” Aventurine questioned, remembering something Sparkle had said. The fingers in him stilled before withdrawing completely.

“Are you… referring to tuning?” Sunday asked quietly, tuning Aventurine to face him as he did so. “I swear to you, I have never and would never use tuning on you.”

“I- I didn’t think you had. I didn’t even know that was a thing. Just something someone had mentioned to me, but I wasn’t certain I believed them.”

“It is not mind control in the strictest sense…” the prince sighed, frowning deeply for a moment as he decided to explain. “Tuning is an ability granted by Xipe to Halovians as Their descendants. It is… a manipulation of emotions, which can be used to coerce, but I have never-”

“Okay! Okay. I wasn’t accusing you of it. I’m sorry,” Aventurine assured, leaning forward to place a placative kiss on Sunday’s forehead. “I trust you.”

“If I did ever use tuning on you, I assure you, you would be fully aware of it. It is not something I, or anyone else would be able to do without the knowledge of the person being tuned.”

“Okay,” Aventurine murmured, placing another kiss on his cheek. “Maybe we can explore it later, as an experiment… but that wasn’t what I’d thought about. Nothing I imagined was anything to do with you being a Halovian.”

“I see,” Sunday exhaled in relief. “Then, go ahead. Tell me what you wanted from me.”

“I- I thought about you holding me down while I was flat on my stomach… holding my arms behind me with one hand, while using the other and your tongue to- Ah!”

Sunday flipped him over while he was still talking, pressing down against the small of his back while he positioned himself kneeling behind him. He heard him hum contemplatively before he pulled him up just enough to finally take his clothes fully off of him. Then, once they’d been discarded, Sunday gently positioned his arms back, crossing his wrists and holding them both snugly in one of his hands, pressed down against the curve of his spine.

“Like this?”

“Y-Yes,” Aventurine swallowed.

“Keep going. Then what?”

“You… I imagined you using your fingers and your tongue to… to open me up”

“My… tongue?”

“Y-You don’t have to! This is-”

He was cut off when two of Sunday’s fingers plunged back inside him. He could feel how Sunday’s weight shifted as he lowered himself, felt the warm breath against his skin before the wetness of a tongue ran over where he was already being stretched. He bit his lip, turning his face to smother himself in the sheets beneath him. The tip of his tongue prodded at him before slipping inside without so much as a moment’s hesitation.

He clenched his fists, desperately wanting anything to grab onto. His whines were muffled by the bedding as Sunday no longer dodged his prostate, pressing both fingers hard against it. It was far better than his imagination, than his lonely fingers straining to fill himself as he rutted against the inn’s mattress, never enough when he was so used to Sunday’s size.

“Ah- Please, Sun- Your highness. I- I’m close,” he panted, hips unable to move with the way Sunday was holding him.

To his utter disappointment, Sunday’s tongue and fingers retreated, right when he felt he’d be pushed over the edge. His voice didn’t even sound like himself, high pitched and needy as he vocalized a wordless complaint. Sunday’s hand rubbed over one of his cheeks, squeezing it and using his thumb to press against and stretch open his entrance. 

“Sunday,” the prince said, his voice low. “You have never called me by my name before, but just now…”

“I- It was a slip. I-”

“Did you call my name when you were alone?”

“N-No, I just…”

“Say my name, Kakavasha,” Sunday ordered, finally pressing his fingers inside again, three this time. “Say my name. Use your words, and I will give you whatever you want.”

“Sunday… I’m so close. Please, I want to cum from your tongue.”

The fingers inside of him curled and stretched apart, making way for Sunday’s tongue to join them. As soon as he tried to press his hips back, to get more, the hand holding him down pushed more resolutely so he could not move at all. It didn’t take much more before he was soiling the prince’s sheets with a choked off moan. Sunday gave him a moment to catch his breath before his touch retreated.

Gentle kisses ran up along Aventurine’s spine as his arms were pushed to rest normally beside him. He shuddered when he felt Sunday pressed against him, heavy and straining against his thin sleeping clothes. Fingers ran through his hair, brushing it aside so Sunday could make a mark where his neck met his shoulder.

“Is it okay if I continue, or are you done for the evening?” he asked, far too politely for their position.

“Don’t stop,” Aventurine mewled, lifting his hips to press against him harder. “My fantasy didn’t end with you just eating me out, you know.”

“No? Then, do go on. What do I do next, hm?” Sunday prompted, his smile evident in his voice.

“You’re already doing it. You let my arms go to grab my hair, then fucked me just like this,” he lied.

It didn’t matter what he had imagined back then. He knew what he wanted right now. They had pretty much always done it with Aventurine on top. The one or two times he’d allowed Sunday to be over him, it was nothing like this. They’d be facing each other, with plenty of room for him to scramble away if he felt the need to. He’d never been perfectly enclosed like this, and he was beginning to wish he hadn’t been so damn insistent about it.

Sunday was cautious, as always. As much as their position encouraged it, he wasn’t allowing his weight to rest on Aventurine. He slid in slowly as ever, all while holding himself up solely on the hand that wasn’t in Aventurine’s hair. It was genuinely frustrating, how he continued to be overly gentle even when Aventurine made a request that implied a bit of rough treatment. With a disgruntled huff, he reached to the side, grabbing Sunday’s wrist and sliding his arm upward so he was forced to blanket over him.

“Like this,” Aventurine exhaled, grinding back.

“I- I do not wish to crush you-”

“You’re not. I like this. Please…”

“Very well. Tell me if it becomes too much.”

When he rolled his hips forward it had the added effect of grinding Aventurine against the bed. It was sticky and uncomfortable but it didn’t matter when all he could feel was pleasure from it. He reached backward, blindly grabbing for whatever purchase he could make on Sunday as he settled into a rhythm. The prince let out a low chuckle when he noticed it, intertwining the fingers of his free hand into Aventurine’s grasp.

He wondered briefly, just how much of Sunday’s ‘garden’ had been resown when he felt yet another mark being made at the curve of his shoulder. Perhaps when he looked in the mirror the next morning, he’d find his skin was more red than white. The thought actually made him smile. The tender murmur of his name against his skin, the warmth of Sunday’s body against him, the way Sunday’s hands grabbing him was still more of a caress than something forceful… All of it made him feel… loved .

“Good…” he mumbled, struggling to say anything at all with the angle of Sunday’s thrusts causing each movement to brush against his prostate. “I- I’m already…”

“Hah. So impatient,” Sunday chuckled, his voice amused rather than annoyed.

Despite his words, he wasn’t any better. Aventurine was squeezing him so tightly, and he felt like he’d been on edge the entire time he’d been gone. He was amazed he’d even lasted as long as he had. Ever since Ratio had informed him that Aventurine was back in the city, all he could think about was exactly this. Holding him in his arms and refusing to let him go for as long as possible.

All it took was the desperate cry of his name, so unfamiliar to him in Aventurine’s voice for him to finish, holding the body beneath him in a suffocating embrace. Airy whines of overstimulation hit his ears as his head cleared. He pulled out, watching the pale fluids that leaked out as he did and groaned to himself at the tempting sight.

He sat up so he could flip Aventurine over beneath him, capturing his lips with searing need. He looked far too beautiful like that, flushed and bleary eyed, strands of hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and spit glistening on his lips. His abdomen was painted with his smeared release and his chest heaved with his rapid breaths. Pink and red petals littered his neck already, sparse as they were for the moment. He was a sculpture like no other.

“Radiant,” Sunday murmured, wiping an unshed tear from a watery eye with his thumb. “Can you handle more, my garden?”

“M-More?”

“Three weeks is a long time, but we have all evening to make up for it. Unlike someone, I did not spoil myself with my own touch while waiting for you,” Sunday grinned slyly, already slipping his fingers inside Aventurine again.

“Ah- I- I never told you you couldn’t-”

“No, of course not. Doing so would require you to tell me you were leaving at all.”

“You- You’re still upset?”

“Hmm… Who is to say? Perhaps you may still convince me to forgive you.”

“You look like hell,” Ratio remarked as Aventurine plopped face-down onto the cot in his quarters. “Am I to take your countenance as an indication that his highness did not accept your apology?”

“He did… after… five- six maybe? I lost count… Hypothetical question for you, doc. Men… can’t get pregnant, right?”

“A human man such as yourself, without enduring modification or experimentation with your reproductive organs, cannot. Unless the reason for your bizarre question is in regards to the biology of Halovian men, but I am sure you are familiar enough with his highness’ outer anatomy to presume the inner organs are nearly identical.”

“Just making sure,” Aventurine huffed.

“Was that truly a concern of yours?”

“A passing thought, really,” he groaned as he slowly turned to lay on his back. “I don’t know anything about Xipe. Maybe They granted Their descendants the ability to… I don’t know.”

“To… create a womb where there isn’t one?”

“My body aches enough to believe it,” he laughed flippantly, weakly waving his hand in the air. “Remind me the next time I attempt to do something this stupid that the prince truly has enviable stamina.”

“You say that as if you would even heed the advice,” Ratio sighed. “That said… Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Sunday isn’t careless enough to actually hurt me. I just… didn’t think I’d be able to walk all the way home,” he coughed, face peppered with subtle shame. “I really didn’t think… he’d care that much.”

Ratio hummed, watching as Aventurine idly massaged his hip. With a roll of his eyes, he turned to his medicine cabinet, sorting through its contents without urgency. Aventurine heard the clinking of glass vials, but paid it no mind. He wasn’t surprised Ratio had other things to do than worry about the man lamenting for his ability to walk straight. He took a deep breath which morphed into a weak laugh upon his exhale.

“I just… don't understand. Why… Why does he… I don’t get it. I don’t even have anything to offer him, but he…”

“Have you perhaps considered that he does not expect your relationship to function as a transaction?” Ratio scoffed, beginning to mix the ingredients he’d gathered.

“I… I know. I know it’s not. If it were… Ha… At least I’d know upfront that I’m on the losing end. Monetarily, materially, of course I have nothing to offer. Who could compare to the future king of a wealthy nation like Asdana? Still, at least if I were some noble lady, I could offer… allegiances or… I don’t know… whatever it is that nobility usually marries for. As much as he tried for it last night, I can’t even give him an heir.”

“Take this,” Ratio ordered, holding out for him the just-completed mixture.

Aventurine eyed it warily, slowly taking his time to sit up. While he took the small bottle from the doctor, he didn’t drink at first. He cautiously sniffed the sudden offering, though the herbal scent told him next to nothing. He looked back up as Ratio, who was already glaring at him with his usual beleaguered expression.

“What I was just saying about an heir… I wasn’t making a request.”

“It’s a muscle relaxant, foolish gambler. I have no way to grant you that particular ability,” Ratio sighed. “Looking at your neck, perhaps I should also provide you with an arnica salve, but I suppose it is less of a concern. The relaxant should ease some of your soreness, and if it continues longer than a day, return for another dose. I hope I need not warn you not to stress your body further, lest you and his highness cause actual damage.”

“Oh… Um… Thank you.”

“Besides, there is no need for you to provide his highness with a child, whether or not you had the capability,” Ratio continued as Aventurine drank down the bitter medicine. “After all, there are various other measures that can be taken. In the not-so-hypothetical scenario in which his highness becomes king and does not have a direct descendant to inherit the crown from him, his sister, and then any child his sister has would then become next in line. If, perhaps, neither he nor she have any children to pass it along to, he is also able to choose an heir to become king upon his departure. Whomever he chooses would have to have the nobility and measure to be approved by the council, but… well… That is all to say that your lack of female reproductive organs is rather irrelevant to the affairs of the crown prince.”

“Ah… I- I see…”

“Instead of dwelling in the unimportant whys and drowning yourself to find what you could offer his highness… perhaps you might consider it more fruitful to simply… remember that he has chosen you.”

“He has… chosen me?” Aventurine repeated slowly, looking back at Ratio who still stood over him with arms crossed.

“You are correct in that there is little in the way of money or goods that you could offer him, and yet, he has chosen you. He has chosen you despite your lack of family or title, your lack of anything else. The reason surely does not matter so much as the result. Do yourself a favor for once, and remember that your so-called worth does not lie in what materials you can give someone, but in the wealth of your company itself. He clearly has already seen that your presence alone, to him, is utterly priceless. Thus… he has chosen you , gambler.”

Aventurine looked away, down at the now empty bottle in his hands. The words sank in like a drop of honey dispersing slowly in warm tea. Maybe, after all, Ratio was right. Sunday had scarcely asked him for anything. He’d not even asked for much in the way of the products Aventurine sold. All he’d ever asked for was Aventurine’s time, his company, his words…

“Oh. Th- Thanks, doc…”

Chapter 15

A simple knock on the door, neither timid nor overly forceful. A grunted approval to enter. The door swings open at a precisely moderate speed, and is closed quietly, firmly after the prince enters. He stands upright, both hands folded politely behind his back. He is the impeccable image of the perfect prince. Gopher Wood still frowns.

“You had called for me, father?”

“Lady Bonajade has offered herself for marriage. You will arrange a date with her, and then we can begin discussing preparations,” the king stated plainly, not even looking in Sunday’s direction.

“I… will not be doing that. I have said before, that I-”

“You will. I will not hear this argument from you any longer. You have just passed your thirtieth summer and it is long past time for you to stop wasting time. A king needs a queen, needs an heir. Since you have denied my past requests, it has been decided for you that Lady Bonajade will fulfill that role.”

“There is no urgent need for me to marry, and I will not wed someone I have scarcely even met.”

“I do not know where you and your sister got it into your heads that you can seek out such childish fantasies like ‘love’ but I will tell you now, boy; love does not exist. Do you think I ‘loved’ your mother? I did not, nor did she ‘love’ me. You are of age to marry, and I will not allow you to procrastinate any longer. Meet with Lady Bonajade soon and-”

“No,” Sunday interrupted adamantly. “You cannot force me to marry her.”

The king let out a harsh sigh, eyeing his son with bubbling irritation. His eyes fell on the piercings in his wings, something he’d done as a teenager and never removed in spite of the frequent admonishments he’d received. He could have been perfect, if not for these small errors in his behavior. Two small metal rods in his otherwise pristine white wings, a stubbornness against his duties, only when it came to what he deemed a personal choice. Gopher scoffed, standing from his desk and walking around it to stand in front of his son, half a foot taller than him and taking more after his mother than himself. There was a third blemish, of course.

“You will do as I order, or that whore of yours will be sent back to the desert where he belongs.”

Lady Bonajade had informed him of her suspicions about a Sigonian refugee who had been meeting in secret with the prince, a possible piece of leverage should Sunday resist her proposal. She had no evidence, and apparently the man had denied it when questioned, but the widening of Sunday’s eyes in shock told the king that she’d been correct in her claims. He said nothing, but Gopher had all the confirmation he needed.

“At least I can commend you for choosing a whore incapable of staining our bloodline with a bastard,” he continued. “If you can keep the affair away from the eyes of the public, you can even continue to have your fun after marrying Lady Bonajade, but you must do your duties as the crown prince and future king. Do not fool yourself into thinking some stray mutt is worth anything more.”

“I do not know what you are referring to,” Sunday finally spoke, though the waver in his voice betrayed him.

“Do not lie to me. That Sigonian hound you have been rutting with. Lady Bonajade has told me plenty about him. I will give you a simple choice. You can accept Lady Bonajade’s proposal, or I will personally escort that whore into Melustanin. Perhaps returning him will be useful in opening some more peaceful discussions with them, not that I truly have much hope in that. He is barely valuable in even that regard.”

Sunday clenched his fists behind his back where his father could not see them. He had expected a discussion about marriage to Lady Bonajade to come soon, but he did not expect Aventurine to be dragged into it. He didn’t know what to do. The proper choice as the crown prince would be to set aside his pride, to accept the marriage proposal and end his relationship with Aventurine quietly. Then again, a proper prince would have never known Aventurine to start with. A proper prince… Sunday was not a proper prince.

He had promised Aventurine that he would not marry, but he had also promised to not be a source of harm. How could he do both? His mouth felt dry as he swallowed. He could buy time, for now.

“Alright. If you leave him alone, I will meet with her.”

“Ha! Very well. I will not wait long. Return to me with a report of a successful meeting with Lady Bonajade.”

“I-”

“Oh, and… Do not fool yourself, boy. He is nothing more than a whore begging for scraps. Do not let yourself be tricked by a pretty face telling lies that he loves you. He only loves whatever finery you have been giving him. It is better to discard someone like that before they become a burden,” the king admonished as he turned back to his desk. “You are dismissed.”

It had been a mere two days since Aventurine had returned to the city, and only yesterday that he’d received a rather awkward scolding from Dr. Ratio about being mindful of a body’s limits. Because of that, he was not expecting Aventurine to come see him in the evening, and for once he was rather thankful. He did not think he could hide his distress from him, but he had only just assured him these things would not happen. He could not tell him, not yet. Not until he had a solution.

Yet, the only solution that was swirling in his ireful mind was violence. Blasphemous, treasonous violence. A solution he would not enact, for he could not be proud of it. He was ashamed the thought had come to him so immediately as it had. The same kind of ideas he’d frequently had in his youth, that he thought he’d tempered and discarded long ago.

He knocked on Gallagher's door early the next morning, after failing to come up with any viable action after stewing for the entire previous day and night. He answered the door looking like he’d just woken up, and hadn’t yet rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Then, seeing it was the prince standing there, he straightened a bit as he blinked away his tiredness.

“What can I do for you this early in the morning, your highness?” he asked properly, unable to hide the grogginess rumbling his voice.

“I- I need you… to… to help me reevaluate a potentially poor decision.”

“Why don’t you come in and let me pour you a drink while you explain what’s going on,” Gallagher sighed after a moment of confusion, stepping aside to allow Sunday entrance.

Gallagher’s home was tidy, mostly due to the fact that he didn’t spend all that much time inside of it. Various surfaces had a layer of dust to attest to his absence. Still, the kitchen was one of the few rooms lacking such evidence of disuse. It was clean, and he was quick to set a glass in front of the prince while he prepared them both some coffee.

“So, what happened? You wouldn’t come seek me out like this unless it was urgent.”

“Father… has found out about Aventurine. He has threatened… He has threatened to have him killed, if I do not marry who he has chosen.”

“Hmm… So, this potentially poor decision of yours…”

“He has given me the option of either betraying the trust I have only just managed to earn with Aventurine, or to forsake him entirely, to turn a blind eye as he is murdered for a nonexistent sin. I- I have thought to myself that a third option he did not give is to erase the dilemma by bloodying the crown before he can enact his threat, but… I know it is foolish. I know it is a deplorable idea.”

Gallagher didn’t speak immediately, simply leaning against the counter with his arms crossed while he waited for water to boil. Sunday hid his face in his hands as the weight of his impossible decision dragged at him. He heard Gallagher hum quietly, before idly scratching at the stubble on his chin.

“Listen, birdy. You came to me because you figured I would give it to you straight, right?”

“I… Yes, and because I know you have far more reason to wish death upon my father than I, and yet all these years you have remained. Surely… Surely you can tell me-”

“Way I see it, you still have two options, just not the two the old man gave ya’. You can do as you just said, cut the rot out at the source, or you can take that gemstone of yours and run. Honestly, all the things that king has done to you kiddos, I’m surprised this is what it took for you to even consider patricide.”

“I- You were not meant to encourage these ideas of mine, Gallagher.”

“Why not? You said it yourself. I’m the one with the biggest grudge against that old king. I… I wish more than anything that I’d’ve been able to convince Mika to run with me when we had the chance. We coulda gone back to Lushaka, maybe found his old crew, traveled and stayed the hell away from Asdana till our old bones couldn’t carry us any farther. I… I couldn’t manage to change his mind back then… The only reason I never did anything, either getting my revenge or just… leaving it all behind… It’s cuz Mika made me promise I’d watch out for these two adorable little stinkers. His niece and nephew,” he muttered, pouring freshly brewed coffee into Sunday’s cup. “How you and Robin managed to turn out to be good kids, with who you come from and how they raised you is nothin’ short of a bloody miracle. If you want me to talk you out of killing the man who killed my husband… you came to the wrong person.”

Sunday thought through his words silently, slowly sipping the still too-hot beverage in front of him. Killing his uncle was one of the lesser atrocities he was aware of his father committing, but one that felt the closest. He never before understood why Gallagher had remained in Penacony after that, why he’d remained a knight. He never imagined the reason might have been him and Robin.

“I had no idea that was why you stayed,” he mumbled.

“All I can offer is this. You guys decide you’re better off getting outta dodge, I can help ya both out of Asdana without no one bein’ the wiser. You decide you’d rather do yourself and all of Asdana the favor of cutting out rotten roots, well, I’ll do whatever you need of me to help.”

“Even if father- It may resolve the threat against Aventurine, but it would cause many more problems I am not certain I am equipped to face. It would be akin to performing a coup. Even if I am already the next in line for the crown, if I take that birthright by force… Not only the council, but the public will be hesitant to receive me. It could set a precedent of violence…” Sunday reasoned with a long sigh. “If only I had more time, I could find a way around this. If I could bring to light the things he has done and have him finally see consequences, but… but I do not have enough time.”

“So you have thought it through then.”

“I spent most of my twenties convincing myself that getting rid of my father was not the appropriate path. Telling myself that nature would eventually take its course, or hoping that someone else would do it for me, that I need not bloody my own hands. I can endure what father does to me, but… Perhaps I am just a coward.”

“Birdy-”

“It is not just because he is now threatening Aventurine. It is… more the realization that… that I am not the only one who must endure his treatment. I cannot help but wonder how many lives that man has ruined while I turned a blind eye and hoped someone else would do what I could not bring myself to. Yet, I still- What he has done is not known to the public, while his death would be. How could the murderer claim justice for crimes no one knows occurred?”

“I won’t tell you what you should do,” Gallagher said with a shake of his head. “Even if I did, it is up to you to choose what actions you can live with. Either way, I’m at your service, your highness. Whatever you need me to do… I’m on your side, kiddo.”

Sunday stared at his coffee, the dark brown liquid akin to a void sucking him in. He knew what he had to do. He had to do things the correct way, the very thing he’d started working toward even before meeting Aventurine. The evidence he’d managed to gather wasn’t enough, and he needed more time. He wouldn’t put Aventurine at risk, but neither did he need to.

“You can take him away, somewhere the king or Lady Bonajade can never find him, right?”

“Aventurine?”

“Yes. Get him out of Asdana. Go without being seen, without being followed. Take him somewhere they cannot track him… where not even I will know where he is hiding,” Sunday ordered resolutely.

“Your highness, I don’t know if-”

“Please. I- I must keep him safe, even if he hates me for it. Even if I abide by fathers demands and marry Lady Bonajade, he will not be safe. Father will continue to use him as a bargaining chip… or just kill him like Mikhail. I will not allow him to be turned into a tool to yoke me. Until I can take care of things, he is safer far, far away from me.”

“Fine,” Gallagher huffed, clearly disagreeing. “How long will you need to convince him?”

“If there is anything you need to prepare, have it ready by tonight. He will likely come to see me this evening, so be outside my chambers some time after midnight. I will… I will make sure he goes with you.”

“You don’t sound so certain…”

“He has no ties to Asdana. The only thing that has kept him here is an inability to leave. I am certain it will not take much to convince him to go.”

Gallagher decided not to point out the one thing Aventurine could wish to stay for, knowing the prince wouldn’t accept the argument. He wasn’t the type to be easily dissuaded once he’d made a decision. He shook his head to himself after the prince left. Hopefully, Aventurine wasn’t nearly as stubborn as the prince… or as stubborn as Mikhail had been.

It was later than usual when Aventurine made his way to the castle, as he’d had far more to do in the past couple of days to make up for his long absence. Still, the thought of making Sunday wait even longer after he’d only just returned made him shudder. So much for being a patient man, his thighs and hips still ached. Maybe another time, if he craved a night with no rest at all, he’d find a quicker way to rile up the usually cautious prince.

The castle was predictably quiet this late at night, which made it even easier for him to slink through the halls unnoticed. Footsteps echoed whenever someone walked through the empty corridors, warning him if anyone was coming near. His own steps were purposefully silent, thanks to soft-soled shoes and much practice. As always, he was able to make it to the prince’s door without incident.

That was, until he opened the door and saw Sunday wasn’t alone. A tall, scruffy looking man with dark, curly hair and a knight’s uniform was standing with him, their quiet argument interrupted by Aventurine’s arrival. He froze in the doorway until Sunday sprang forward, pulling him in and letting the door shut behind him. The question he wanted to ask died in his throat when he was wrapped in a tight embrace.

“Gallagher, wait outside a moment,” Sunday ordered the other, to which the man sighed and left the room.

“What is going on?” Aventurine finally asked, pulling down the scarf covering his face.

“I do not have a lot of time. Gallagher is going to take you… take you out of Penacony… out of Asdana.”

“What-”

“I assure you, Lady Bonajade will not be able to follow you. Gallagher is very good at what he does. Just go for now and when it is safe-”

“Wait- Wha- What are you talking about?” Aventurine sputtered, pushing himself out of Sunday’s arms. The prince dodged eye contact, gritting his teeth for a moment before explaining.

“It… is not safe for you in Asdana right now. I am- I am working on it, though. I will take care of things, and once I have…”

“You… are sending me away all of sudden?” he frowned, still completely confused. “What happened?”

“You do not need to know. What matters is-”

“Fuck you, I don’t need to know! If it involves me, I do need to know.”

Aventurine glared at the prince in front of him. Sunday looked pained, but it was nothing compared to how Aventurine’s stomach began to churn. Why was he doing this? He’d made himself plenty clear how he felt about Aventurine’s prior absence. Did that mean nothing suddenly? The prince exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. After swallowing down his grief, he straightened, looking more like the man who gave impartial speeches than the one who whispered sweet nothings in the comfort of silken sheets.

“All you need to know is that I am keeping my promises to you,” Sunday stated firmly. “I am making sure you will be safe.”

“You really expect me to just leave the kingdom all of a sudden? For how long?”

“I… I do not know. For as long as it takes. Gallagher has money and new clothes ready for you. He will travel with you, and ensure you are safely settled once you arrive at your destination before he returns here. After that, you can go wherever or do whatever you would like. Once I have managed to- to do what needs to be done, he can find you again and bring you back. That is… if… if you still want to return.”

“If I still want to? So you’re saying this will be long enough that I might not care to come back?”

“I-”

“You’re just sending me away, fuck everything else, to never see me again?” Aventurine spat, wincing as his voice cracked on the last word.

“No, not never, just-”

“What if I say no?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go,” Aventurine scoffed, crossing his arms and blinking away the moisture stinging his eyes.

Sunday didn’t try to argue. It was silent between them for a moment as the prince ran a hand over his face, evidently not entirely shocked by this outcome. Aventurine watched him, saw the exasperation in his expression. He still had no idea what had happened, why he was doing this, but he looked distressed enough to at least make him believe that it wasn’t Sunday’s ideal choice.

There was a flicker of pain at the back of his head as Sunday’s wings fluttered, and suddenly all of the concern and fear he had been feeling washed away. He felt… nothing at all. The tightness in his throat disappeared, and his head felt light. It was strange, like he’d been put in a trance, and none of his concerns mattered much anymore.

“Gallagher will keep you safe. Just go with him,” Sunday spoke, his voice carrying an almost ethereal quality he wasn’t used to.

Aventurine nodded. Sunday was probably right. It would be fine. He saw him hesitate for a moment even after Aventurine gave his agreement, before he stepped around him with a guilty look on his face. He opened his bedroom door and Gallagher returned. Aventurine looked at the knight blankly, and saw his lips curl into a deep frown.

“You sure about this, birdy?” he grumbled, the question directed at Sunday.

“Just go. Keep him safe. It shouldn’t wear off until… until you’re out of the city.”

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was clear Gallagher was displeased with the answer. He shook his head, grumbling to himself too quietly for Aventurine to parse out the words. He was led quietly out of the castle through a back door, then through an iron gate that was scarcely used. They trailed through the city streets cautiously, turning down various winding roads in a dizzying manner. They exited the city walls through the western gate- or was it the eastern gate? Aventurine honestly wasn’t sure. What he did notice was that there were no guards standing where they were normally stationed, and wasn’t that odd?

Out of sight, hidden by the trees, two horses were secured with full satchels. Gallagher helped Aventurine up onto the smaller one before untying their reins and walking them through the trees. Aventurine wasn’t sure for how long they walked before Gallagher spoke.

“Anywhere you want me to take you? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Mm… not really. Anywhere’s fine,” he hummed, leaning against the neck of the beast carrying him. Why would it matter?

“Alright, well, in that case… I know a good place. It’s pretty isolated, and the IPC guild isn’t stationed there, so that representative won’t have the reach to find you. It’ll take a few days for us to get there. Go ahead and sleep. I’ll guide the horses.”

So Aventurine closed his eyes. He felt nothing but levity. Why would he do anything else?

Notes:

This chapter is a bit shorter but the next one is gonna be longer lol

Chapter 16

Robin gently dabbed the salve over Sunday’s split lip, careful not to let it start bleeding again. He had spent the entire time staring pointedly away from her as she treated the injuries, as if avoiding eye contact would shield him from her questions. She’d said nothing yet, but only so that he would not flee from her aid. Then again, would he even be able to run in this state? She let out another sigh, the fifth since she’d discovered him if he’d kept count correctly. As she straightened and once again looked over him, seeing if there was anything else that needed her attention, she finally ended their brokered silence.

“Father did this, didn’t he?” she asked, knowing already the answer. No one else would dare strike the prince, let alone leave him so battered.

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

“Why? He has not laid hands on either of us since we were children. What happened?”

“I… disobeyed him,” Sunday answered with a bitter, trembling smile. His eyes were watery with tears he’d refuse to shed. She wasn’t certain if they were from the pain he was in, or the reason for the beating. “He found out… about Aventurine. He intended to use him to make me comply, but… This morning, he found out that Aventurine is no longer in Asdana. With nothing else he could threaten, I turned down Lady Bonajade’s marriage proposal. I do not think he expected… I would be able to refuse.”

“You… Is that why Gallagher suddenly took a vacation? You sent Aventurine away? To where?”

“I do not know. It is… better this way. Father cannot pry from me knowledge even I am ignorant of.”

Sunday swallowed, trying and failing to mask the despair he felt. In truth, he did not even know if Aventurine and Gallagher had made it to their destination yet or if they were still traveling. He did not know when Gallagher would return. He knew nothing. He would know nothing, for as long as his father’s head still bore Asdana’s crown.

Robin’s hands were gentle as they brushed over a bruised cheek. She looked at him with distinct pity. No doubt she was now putting together why he had asked her not to bring him to the royal physician when she found him slumped in a corner of the library. He couldn’t face Ratio right now, not when Ratio was probably aware of Aventurine’s sudden disappearance but not the reason behind it. He wasn’t entirely certain the good doctor would agree with Sunday’s choice. Gallagher certainly hadn’t, even if he still agreed to help.

He couldn’t exactly blame him. He’d used tuning on Aventurine, after swearing he would never do so, then left Gallagher to deal with the aftermath once it wore off. He didn’t know how Aventurine must have reacted, but he wouldn’t have been happy about it. Guilt gnawed at Sunday like a ravenous wolf, but he didn’t know what else he could have done. He didn’t expect Aventurine to refuse to go, had no idea why he had.

“No wonder you look like you haven’t slept, on top of all the bruises,” Robin murmured. “Gallagher has been gone for three days now. I’m assuming that’s when…”

“Yes.”

Three days. They’d been traveling for three whole days now, and Aventurine had no idea where in the world they were or even where they were going. He’d woken up some time after sunrise that first day with the horse carrying him still trotting along, led by Gallagher through the forest. They weren’t following any roads, as much as they could avoid it. The knight had noticed his rousing immediately, and spoke up before he could utter a word of complaint.

“As much as I don’t agree with him tuning you, I’m not turning us back,” he remarked, like he already knew exactly what Aventurine was going to say.

“If you don’t agree with it, why are you doing this? Just because he’s the prince and he said so?” Aventurine snapped.

“Hmm, not quite. You’re from Sigonia, ain’t ya’?”

“I’m guessing his highness told you that?”

“Not really. He asked me once if Mikhail had ever been there, and I put the rest together. So, you pass through Lushaka when you crossed the western sea?”

“No. That’s the southern port. I came from the north.”

“Ah, Melustanin then. Should’ve figured, how insistent he was I take you east,” Gallagher chuckled, only serving to make Aventurine even more annoyed. “I’m from Lushaka originally. Mikhail and I grew up there. Ended up coming to Asdana when his sister married the king.”

“What does this have to do with what I asked you?”

“Patience kid, I’m getting to it. See… you may not know this but the late queen was a real piece of work. Just as bad as the king is, really. The rest of the family though, they were fine people. Mikhail, when we were teenagers, he set off with this group of explorers callin’ themselves the Nameless. Ended up coming back only after his dad got sick. We reunited then, ended up getting married two years later. His sister married the newly crowned king of Asdana a bit after that, and my mother in law begs us to follow her there, keep an eye. So we do… and Mikhail’s never really let go of that wandering spirit of his, he ends up finding out about something… something the king and queen don’t want him to know. I… I begged him to leave with me, for us to go back home, but that stubborn old fool…”

Gallagher let out a sigh, shaking his head. Aventurine could finish the story on his own. He knew bits of it already. The brother of the queen had died, reportedly killed by a petty thief, who was promptly caught and executed. He wasn’t really surprised that story was a lie.

“I don’t want his highness to have the same regrets that I do, even if I don’t entirely agree with how he’s goin’ about it.”

So, as the days passed, Aventurine hadn’t bothered to argue or complain. They’d passed through the Xianzhou Alliance without anyone seeing their faces, wearing clothes that were not distinct to Asdana. He knew they’d gone northeast for most of their traveling, but hadn’t the knowledge of geography that Gallagher apparently did. He seemed to always know exactly where they were going, never wavering, even though he’d intentionally not taken them along the straightest path.

Aventurine was skeptical anyone was following, but Gallagher made quite sure it was impossible. They had double- crossed rivers, avoided roads, erased tracks and left no traces. Not to mention the head start they had before anyone would realize Aventurine had skipped town. Sunday had been right about one thing, Gallagher was good at his job.

Even though he’d made no attempts to convince the knight to take him back, or to try and find his way back on his own, he was still pissed off. He was pissed off that Sunday hadn’t talked to him about it, that he’d used tuning when Aventurine didn’t agree to leave, that he genuinely planned to send Aventurine away and maybe never see him again. Even if it was his idea of keeping him safe, it didn’t stop it from feeling like he’d been thrown away, abandoned, again .

They came to a sprawling mountain range and Gallagher hopped off his horse as he guided them to a pathway so thin between the rocks that the horses scarcely fit, even going single file. Aventurine was never told to dismount, so he stayed where he was, squeezing his legs tighter against the horse’s sides in the particularly narrow parts. Even when the path wound and widened, Gallagher stayed on the ground, leading them through cautiously. Eventually though, he at least bothered to explain.

“Our destination is on the other side of this mountain range. There aren’t really any safe passages through these mountains, and even though it borders the eastern coast, the mountains actually cut off sea-travel as well. All of that is to say, most people don’t even know about this place, or bother to go there. The IPC guild isn’t established here either.”

“Are you going to bother telling me the name of this nowhere kingdom?”

“Amphoreus. To be honest… I only know about it because of Mikhail. His Nameless friends had planned to come here eventually. Honestly don’t know if they ever did.”

“Have you come here before? I don’t think I would have even seen that path…” Aventurine muttered, glancing back. He couldn’t see anything other than rock anymore.

“Once. Right after he died. Needed to… to get away ‘fore I did something stupid. Found Amphoreus for him. Then after a while I went back to Asdana to fulfill a promise. Same as what I’m doing now, I guess.”

Traveling through the mountains was a hellish endeavor that took another two full days, mostly due to the fact that three different times they had to backtrack and find another route that the horses could make it through. At least it gave him confidence that even someone like Jade would truly never be able to track him down here.

They crested one of the shorter peaks and caught glimpse of one of Amphoreus’ cities, built into the mountainside with magnificent architecture. ‘Janusopolis’ he was told. One of many, he was also told, and ‘not our destination’. Their actual destination, apparently, was ‘Okhema’, the capital city. Aventurine didn’t bother to ask why there specifically. It didn’t really matter.

Okhema was a bustling city, more than he really expected for a completely isolated region. Massive beasts of burden the likes he’d never seen before trawled along wide, paved paths, undisturbed by the two of them trotting with their horses. He stared as Gallagher led them past without a single glance, gawking at feet so large they could crush him entirely.

Gallagher stopped them in front of a shop with a lavish front, the sign above the door reading ‘The Golden Thread’. Inside, he could see it was a tailor shop, one with very fine clothing. The seamstress was a beautiful woman with short blonde hair, wearing a lavishly adorned white gown. Her eyes were pale, clouded and pupiless, but despite appearing to be blind, she walked with confidence around the shop. When her eyes fell on the pair of them, a fond smile of recognition curled her lips, indicating she could, in fact, see.

“Gallagher,” she spoke, her voice calm and soothing. “How long has it been since I’ve seen you?”

“Not sure. A couple decades, at least. I’m surprised you remember me,” he huffed, amused.

“You certainly look older,” she laughed. “What brings you back to Okhema? How are those two you left to find? Is this one of them?”

“Ah, not quite. Those two… Well, they’re as well as they can be. This is Aventurine. Actually, he’s someone that those kids asked me to keep safe. That’s why I brought him here. Where is safer than a nation most of the world barely knows exists?”

“I see… Aventurine, is it?”

“Um… Yes?” Aventurine coughed out awkwardly.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Aglaea.”

“Nice to… meet you.”

“I was hoping the Lady Goldweaver might be able to help me get him settled. I still have some balance coins from when I left, but I need to set him up with a place to live, probably a job as well.”

“I understand. I can certainly help with that. Tell me, Aventurine, are you good with your hands?”

“In some ways, sure. I’ll tell you now I’m not much of a laborer. Before this I was a merchant,” Aventurine shrugged.

“Is that so? What goods did you sell?”

“Ah… Well…”

“Adult toys,” Gallagher supplied when Aventurine hesitated. He felt his face warm, finding it more embarrassing to have someone else say it than if he’d answered himself.

“Hm, a fair trade,” she chuckled. “Alas, there is already a shop of that sort here, not to say you couldn’t provide them some competition. For now, perhaps you could help me here at the tailor shop. I’ve been busier than ever these days, and could use another set of hands.”

“Oh. Sure. I could… I can do that.”

“Perfect. You have fortunate timing. As for a place to live… Hmm… Well, I can put you up in Cifera’s old room. It won’t be very comfortable, but it should be suitable temporarily, until we can arrange something more permanent.”

“I knew coming to you was the right call,” Gallagher grinned.

“Are you going to be staying as well, Gallagher? I’m afraid the room will be too small to house the both of you,” Aglaea frowned, tapping her chin in thought.

“Nah, don’t worry. I have to head back and let birdy know this’n is safe. I’ll get a room at the bathhouse and head off in the morning probably.”

“Oh… You really aren’t staying long. Very well. Assure your… ‘birdy’ that I will take good care of Aventurine,” she smiled.

“I’d expect nothing less, Lady Goldweaver. Thank you.”

Aventurine raised a brow at the curious conversation in front of him. Gallagher had said it had been a couple decades since he’d been here, but they spoke as if they knew each other incredibly well. Not to mention this Aglaea person looked like she was only in her thirties, so did Gallagher meet her when she was a child? She had such a reliable reputation as a child ? He decided to keep his questions to himself. Gallagher would be leaving, he’d be stuck here in some foreign city, and who knew how long he’d stay. The rest of his life? Maybe. At least the city seemed nice.

The room he was led to was indeed small, clearly meant to be storage, but among the shelves there was a small bed shoved in the corner. It was definitely meant for a child, or child-sized person. Aventurine was short enough to just barely fit on it… if ‘fitting on it’ meant his feet were still hanging off the end. Aglaea was certainly right about it being uncomfortable, but he’d slept in much worse places. Frankly, after a week of riding a horse and sleeping outside without so much as a campfire to warm him, he was just happy there was a mattress beneath him and walls.

Aglaea seemed kind. Working in a tailor shop wasn’t an awful gig. Okhema seemed like a nice place. Jade and the IPC weren’t here. All in all… Well, he was always… lucky , right? If he ignored everything that had led him here, he was lucky.

He’d been told to relax while Gallagher and Aglaea discussed something, so he laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t think they were intentionally excluding him from the conversation, given that Aglaea had just met him. It was more likely that they wanted to catch up and he didn’t need to awkwardly stand there as part of it. Still, this was almost just as awkward, laying in a storage room on a bed too small for him in a city he’d never heard of because his… his…

What could he even call Sunday? What was their relationship? He couldn’t really say they were just sexual partners, because that would imply the only feelings between them were physical. Neither could he say they were anything more, because the nature of their meetings were… well… just for sex, at the end of the day. Not a boyfriend, not a lover, not a partner , just… something he didn’t have a word for.

He turned over, running his fingers over the shockingly clean sheets. It didn’t matter anymore, did it? There was a word for what they were now, and that word was nothing . Sunday had thrown him away, so far away that he could not ever chance upon him again. He’d had the gall to look hurt by it, as if he hadn’t been the one deciding to do so. He’d looked guilty , as if he hadn’t literally manipulated Aventurine into going.

Fucking tuning . So much for a promise he would never use it. Then, he’d made sure that Aventurine couldn’t even get upset at him for it, because they’d never see each other for him to receive the scolding. It wasn’t really like Aventurine could yell at Gallagher and ask him to pass on the message, especially not when the sad bastard also said he disagreed with tuning being used.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. All of the emotions he’d been shoving down as they traveled, for the sake of a peaceful journey with the only human being he knew he’d see for days, were now bubbling up in the peace and privacy of the small room. It was sickening, remembering the feeling of blank contentedness, needing only to agree and go along with whatever was offered. ‘Not really mind control.’ What a joke.

Aventurine felt like a fool. He had believed him, all his pretty words and promises, claiming he’d never do what others had. To even say that he had done this to keep those promises… Did he think Aventurine was stupid? What exactly did he want Aventurine to believe he was keeping him safe from? Just from Jade? Like Aventurine hadn’t been dealing with her just fine on his own for years. Was this what he thought was keeping his promise? Was this his idea of ‘freeing’ him from her?

Maybe… maybe that was just his excuse. Maybe the only person he was ‘freeing’ was himself. He was a prince after all. He knew how to keep a calm facade in front of the public, so why wouldn’t he be able to fake the opposite. Aventurine became a burden. He'd had his fun, so now toss him to some corner of the world where he wouldn’t have to think about him again, and give him a convenient lie that it’s to keep you safe .

Maybe Jade had proposed. Maybe he’d decided that Jade was the better option. Maybe sending Aventurine away was so he wouldn’t find out that the prince was nothing but a liar. Sure, keep him safe, keep him ignorant. Weren’t they both the same? That had to be the reason, right? Otherwise, why do this so suddenly?

Or, was it suddenly? After all, he could have planned this a while ago. It could have happened in the month that Aventurine spent in the Xianzhou Alliance. Maybe while he’d been gone, Sunday realized he really wasn’t worth it anymore. He hadn’t been upset, that night, he just wanted one last night of fun before making Aventurine leave more permanently. Use Jade as an excuse, and have Gallagher drag him out in the middle of the night, then get back to his life of grandeur without evidence of the stain.

He scrubbed at his eyes when there was a knock at the door. Sitting up, standing up, he didn’t trust his voice at the moment. Gallagher stood on the other side as he cracked the door open, expression falling immediately. Aventurine cleared his throat, but it did nothing to free him of the thick lump silencing him.

“Let’s get something to eat, something better than traveling rations, eh?”

“I’m…” not hungry , he wanted to say, but even though it was true, he doubted Gallagher would accept it. “Fine. Lead the way, I guess.”

Aglaea wasn’t there when they descended the steps and re-entered the shop, though it wasn't long before he found out why. Even before they opened the door, he heard her voice outside, speaking to someone. That someone was a child with bright red hair adorned with small white flowers. As soon as he and Gallagher came onto the street, that child turned to them, face brightening.

“Gally! It’s you!” she exclaimed with the wings on her back fluttering excitedly.

“Hey, pipsqueak,” he chuckled in response. “Didn’t think I’d run into the holy maiden while I was here.”

“Agy said you’re not staying,” the girl frowned. “Why not? We missed you so much! Oh, and Ciphy is back in town right now. You two got along really well, right? Aren’t you going to see her?”

“I’m sorry. It was just my job to get this one here safely,” he explained, pointing his thumb at Aventurine next to him. “Then I gotta head back and let his highness know he’s good. I already explained everything to the Lady Goldweaver here.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Still, I do wish you weren’t in such a hurry. It is not often we get to see long-departed companions return.”

“You’re not leaving until tomorrow, right? Let us take you around and show you what’s changed since back then!”

“Ah, well… Allow me to decline. I just want to get some food for him, then prepare to leave early in the morning. Though, if you want, I’m sure he could use a guide around the place, since he’s new here,” he chuckled, crouching down to be more on level with her.

“Um. I’m… good…” Aventurine stuttered out, even more confused than before.

This girl looked no older than six or seven years old. If Gallagher left more than a decade ago, how in the world did they know each other? What did he call her? Holy maiden? She did have pointed ears and wings on her back. Maybe she was a species similar to the vidyadhara from the Xianzhou Alliance and her appearance meant nothing in regards to her actual age… but she still spoke like she was a child, unlike the younger Xianzhou natives he’d spoken to before.

“ We would be happy to guide you, mister! We are Tribbie!” she spoke, giving him a happy wave.

“Um… I’m… Aventurine. You really don’t have to, and… I think I’m rather tired from… walking for a week straight. I don’t usually… get that much exercise,” he laughed weakly, looking away.

“That’s okay! We can do it another day, after you’ve gotten some rest.”

“Teacher, why don’t you and I have a chat while they head to the Marmoreal Diner?” Aglaea interrupted. “You two have a nice supper. I’ll explain things for you.”

“Much obliged. Come on then. This way.”

Gallagher led him away, through busy streets lined with multi-story buildings. The architecture was certainly much different than anything he’d seen in any of the other places he’d been, most buildings crafted from white or pale stone, with artistically carved columns or painted walls. The Marmoreal Diner he was brought to had most of its seating outdoors, though shaded by a vibrantly colored awning. He didn’t focus much on the server or even the food. Gallagher had ordered for him, as he stared at the street, and the people passing by. Most didn’t even give them a glance, but those who did usually lingered for a moment. He supposed their clothes must have looked odd, in comparison to the style he saw on most of the residents.

“Eat up, kid,” Gallagher prompted after the food had arrived and Aventurine still hadn’t even looked at it.

He really wasn’t hungry, though he knew he probably should be. Even the food he’d been given while they traveled, he’d barely picked at. Maybe Gallagher had assumed he found it hard to stomach the dried meats and hard bread, but really he wasn’t picky about food. He just… wasn’t hungry.

Still, with a sigh, he turned away from his people watching and started to eat, slowly. The food was delicious, probably, but everything felt muted on his tongue. The sweet bread and fruits, the savory meat… all of it just felt like a chore to swallow. It didn’t help that he could feel the knight's eyes on him, watching him warily.

“You’ll be in good hands, here. Lady Aglaea’s a good sort. She took good care of me when I came here too. I worried it might take a while to find you a place and some income, but we got pretty lucky that she already needed another set of hands for her shop.”

“Yeah…” he exhaled. “I’m always… lucky…”

“I… Look, kid… Maybe it’s none of my business to say this, but… You should know, this wasn’t what his highness wanted.”

“Sure doesn’t seem that way when he had to tune me into going away,” Aventurine bit.

“He shouldn’t have done that, I agree. Still, just… He cares about you, kid. He was scared. Not justifying it, but…”

“Yeah, sure,” Aventurine muttered, looking away again. He felt too nauseous to keep eating.

Like he could believe the word of someone on the prince’s payroll. Even if Gallagher was genuine, it was just as possible that Sunday had lied to his uncle as much as he’d lied to him. Family, midnight lovers… He knew better than anyone that a liar would lie to anyone. Wasn’t he just the same? After all, he had even managed to lie to himself, telling himself the prince had actually cared.

“I probably won’t see you ‘fore I leave tomorrow. Anything you want me to pass on to his highness?” Gallagher asked once they’d made it back to Aglaea’s shop.

“No. There’s nothing to say to him,” Aventurine choked out bitterly.

“You sure?”

“He doesn’t deserve my words.”

“Ah… I see… Guess you won’t just take my word for it then,” he sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

He didn’t say anything more. Take care of himself? That’s all he’d ever done. It wasn’t like anyone else would take care of him. Where had it gotten him, to even consider letting someone else do it? Exiled to some isolated kingdom he’d never heard of and left with nothing but bittersweet memories of what it was like when someone pretended to care.

Gallagher’s return journey was much faster. One less horse and passenger, much less cargo, and much less caution. He could go into a full gallop on the roads and pass through cities without as much care now that he was traveling alone. He was still careful not to be recognized, at least not until he circled south. He left behind the clothes he’d worn as a disguise and changed back into his knight’s armor. He entered Asdana from the south, coming from Lushaka, as planned. It had been right around two weeks when he arrived back in Penacony.

He hadn’t been in the castle for an hour before he was tracked down by Colin, a skittish man who served as the head of household. He was a coward who folded under the slightest pressure, which meant he couldn’t be trusted with secrets, but he was easy to manipulate. He stammered through an overly polite greeting as Gallagher stared him down, waiting for him to get to why he’d ran down the hall after him.

“I don’t wish to disturb you seeing as you’ve only just returned from your vacation, but I’m afraid there have been some issues while you’ve been away. Mainly, um… That is…”

“Out with it.”

“His highness, the crown prince… he has not left his room in days, nor has he allowed anyone in. He receives his meals by having them leave the tray at the door, and even when they come to retrieve them, the food has been scarcely eaten. In addition, her highness also seems to be in a somewhat foul mood. She has been just as kind as ever, but… well… Marcy claimed she saw her the other day outside of his highness’ door… shouting… shouting profanities , sir.”

“I see… What of his majesty?”

“He was informed after the first day of his highness’ isolation, but…”

“What did he say?”

“Ah… I quote, sir, ‘Good. He should reflect on his misdeeds. Tell me when the boy has finished his senseless wallowing.’ That is all, sir. I know that you, as his personal guard, have a spare key to his highness’ chambers. He has even declined to be seen by the royal physician. We were hoping that you could-”

“Where is the princess right now?”

“P-Pardon? Her highness left the castle grounds around two hours ago, stating she had lunch plans with some friends. She was accompanied by Sir Micah as her guard, sir.”

“I see. When she returns, please inform her I have arrived, and will be waiting to speak to her at her leisure.”

“Yes? But- But the prince, sir.”

“I understand the situation, but barging into the prince’s chambers with my key is ill-advised. I will speak to her highness, and see if she can clarify the reason for everyone’s foul moods, and we will do what is needed at that time. Now, go on.”

“I… I see, sir. Again, I apologize for bringing this to you so immediately. Did you… Did you enjoy your vacation, sir?”

“Yeah. Went back home and… gave Mikhail a long overdue visit. Anyways, I’m sure you're busy, so this old dog won’t keep you. Her highness will know where to find me.”

Not that she was given much of a chance. The king was the one to call for him first, not much of a surprise. He was sure the conniving old bastard already put it together that Gallagher was the one to sneak Aventurine out of town. Still, he’d already planned for that. The king gestured for him to sit, to which he did with a sigh.

“Gallagher. I have been wondering what it is that compelled one of the captains of the Bloodhounds to- with not a single day of forewarning- take an extended vacation abroad. Of course, seeing as I was left not itinerary, nor destination, nor even a return date, I could not help but wonder if you had decided to abscond entirely. Yet, here you are, whole and hale. Did you enjoy your sudden trip?”

“It’s nothing more than a misunderstanding, your majesty. The paperwork must have gotten lost. See, I had been planning this trip for quite a while now. I even told his highness and her highness directly,” Gallagher stated casually, waving a hand as if it were a genuine mistake.

“Is that so? Well, you were gone for quite some time. Where did you go on this sudden vacation of yours?”

“Ah, here and there. It’s been a while since I’d taken a break, figured one was due. I went over to the Xianzhou Alliance. Figured I hadn’t been there for quite some time. Heard about this foxian dancer, real entrancing gal. Went and took a peek. It was well worth the trip,” Gallagher laughed.

He knew the king wouldn’t believe a word he said. He’d come from the southern gate, implied to Colin he’d gone to Lushaka. The king would assume that, since he was lying about going east, he really had gone to Lushaka. Hell, it would have been a good place to take Aventurine, in theory. It bordered Asdana, sure, but it was a massive port town. He could go anywhere across the ocean from there. It was predictable, which was precisely why they’d done the opposite.

“I see. Well, your trip had rather poor timing. Now that you are back, I have something for you to deal with. The prince decided to throw a fit while you were away. Go and talk some sense into him, would you?”

“His highness?”

“Yes… There was a… fox that stumbled onto the grounds and caught his eye. He became upset when it was chased away. To think, at his age, he would have a tantrum like a child when he is unable to keep a mere pet. A wild hound, at that…” the king tutted. “It would not do for the public to find out about this immature behavior. Be sure to remind him of that for me.”

“Of course, your majesty,” Gallagher exhaled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

There was an underlying message in the king's words that didn’t need to be spoken. He listens to you more than me, but I can make him listen to me . He was good at that kind of unspoken threat. Still, he’d thought the king would have learned by now that Gallagher wasn’t the type who intimidated easily.

When Robin eventually came to him, he was unfortunately busy receiving reports about guard rotations and training, catching up on everything he’d missed over the last two weeks. Still, it was of course expected for the princess to take precedence, so reports were waved away and they were left alone to speak. She was cautious, still, waiting a few moments before locking the office door to ensure they could not be interrupted.

“You’ve just gotten back and you're already so busy,” Robin commented, staring at the pile of papers left on his desk.

“I’m used to it. I’ve already heard quite some stories in the few hours since I returned. Got told our dearest princess was seen cursing up a storm at her brother’s door. That bounty hunter been rubbin’ off on you?”

“That… Perhaps a little. Really, it was because Sunday- I mean he- I only left him so I could get Dr. Ratio to make sure his injuries weren’t anything more serious, but by the time I returned, he had locked the door and refused to let us in. I decided to come back the next day instead but he still wouldn’t open the door, so I sat there and waited until his supper was delivered, figuring he would have to open the door then, but when he did, he saw me and immediately slammed the door shut again!”

“Ah… So that’s why…”

“He… He told me you took that man somewhere out of Asdana, somewhere even he doesn’t know?”

“Yeah. I did. Don’t you worry, sweetpea. Aventurine will be safe. But, stepping back a moment, you said your brother was injured?”

“Father… I don’t think I have to explain.”

“Right… How long ago?”

“Three days after you left. He’s been alone in his room ever since,” she muttered. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen brother act like this. Of course, he almost never bothers to disobey father, but I don’t even mean that. I mean… locking himself away, ignoring even me . Even if father had threatened him, why would he ask Aventurine to leave if… if this is what it’s doing to him?”

“He assumes anything else would have been Aventurine’s death. I don’t know if he’s right or not, but… I understand why he doesn’t want to take that risk.”

“Still, he- He could have come to me! We could have come up with something together. Now Aventurine is gone and he will not even speak to me. What does Sunday have left if not the two of us? Is he really going to allow father to take everything from him?”

“Now, come on, sweetpea. He still has you, and he knows I’m on his side too. I’m sure between the two of us, we can still fix things for that silly brother of yours, yeah?” Gallagher grinned. “Look… Why don’t you go fetch that physician, just in case, and I’ll try and sweet talk your brother. Either I can convince him to let you in or… Well, he can’t really stop me from opening the door myself.”

“Thank you, Mister Gallagher,” she breathed out with relief.

As expected, when he made his way to the prince’s chambers a few minutes later, the door was locked, and on the ground just outside of it was a tray of food, only half eaten. He shook his head as he pulled out his keys. Just like Robin, he didn’t expect the prince to be the type to do this either.

It wasn’t until he opened the door that he saw just how bad it was. The room was a mess, with papers strewn about all over the desk and floor both. Sunday was on the ground, sitting against the end of his bed with a stack of documents in his lap. His eyes bore dark circles underneath and his hair and wings both drooped with untidiness. His clothes were wrinkled and loose, his collar open and askew and sleeves uneven. They weren’t sleeping clothes, but Gallagher had no doubts that he’d slept in them. He actually wondered how long it had been since he changed clothes at all.

When Gallagher entered, Sunday’s eyes slowly trailed up to see the intruder. They were dull and unfocused, and Gallagher could see that it took him way too long to even register who it was who’d entered. He let out a sigh, once again shaking his head.

“Aventurine… Is he…?” Sunday croaked, his head once again falling to look at the papers in his hand, as if he could even decipher them.

“He’s being taken care of by an old friend of mine, someone the king doesn’t know about. He’s in good hands,” Gallagher assured. “So, now, don’t you think it’s time for you to start figuring out how you’re gonna get him back? Or are you planning to wallow in grief for the rest of your life and leave him exiled.”

“What exactly do you think all of this is?” Sunday bit, gesturing weakly at the chaotic mess. “Father is meticulous. Everything I have, none of it implicates him directly. The only thing that does… also… implicates me. I cannot hope to believe that anyone will simply take me at my word, even as the prince. Not when the one I plan to accuse is the king.”

“Forgive me for saying this doesn’t seem like the most efficient way to organize your evidence, nor are you going to find anything new if you do not leave the room. Up we go, your highness,” Gallagher grunted, yanking the man up into his feet. “You’ve made no progress on your own, so now it’s time to take advantage of the one resource you’ve ignored.”

As if to provide example, it was at that moment that Robin burst through the now-unlocked door, a much more solemn Dr. Ratio trailing behind her. Both of them took a cursory look around the messy chamber and at the prince, slumped in Gallagher’s grip. The doctor, as expected, was the first to recover, letting out a beleaguered sigh.

“Forgive my bluntness, your highness, but you look like hell,” he remarked. “Why even send him away if you were to become this afterwards?”

“I had to…”

“Yes, yes, so I’ve been told. To keep him safe, apparently. Idiots, the both of you. Frankly, I’m surprised you even convinced him.”

It didn’t escape the doctor’s notice how the prince winced at the remark, nor his sister’s. Having recovered from the shock at the state of his room, she made sure to lock the door while Ratio had already started examining the few remaining, mostly-faded bruises. With the prince now in someone else’s hands, Gallagher started to pick up the scattered papers.

“So… you didn’t convince him,” Ratio muttered, never one to mince words. “In that case, I take back my comment about the gambler being an idiot.”

“I tried… to convince him. He…”

“Sunday… Tell me you didn’t…” Robin murmured, aghast. He’d never so much as implied that Aventurine hadn’t gone willingly.

“What’s done is done,” Gallagher grumbled for him. “And this idiot is never going to get his chance to apologize until we deal with the underlying problem, so why don’t we all talk about that instead.”

“You mean… father?” Robin frowned. “Mister Gallagher, I’ve been thinking about this since earlier. Isn’t it dangerous for you to be back at the castle? What if father uses tuning to make you tell him where Aventurine has gone.”

“Hm? Ha! So even his own daughter doesn’t know?”

“What?”

“Robin… Father… He…” Sunday sighed, shaking his head.

“That old man can’t use tuning anymore.”

Notes:

So, originally I had planned to send Aventurine to Belobog but... then I thought about him interacting with Anaxa and decided to rewrite it lol. Now I have to figure out how to make Amphoreus make sense in this universe when it's not an aggressive computer simulation cycling through apocalypse scenarios, but oh well. I still think Anaxa and Aventurine interaction will be worth it.

Chapter 17

“When you said you wanted help, this wasn’t exactly what I imagined,” Aventurine muttered, staring confused as Aglaea wrapped a measuring tape around his waist.

“Why not? Besides, you’ll be needing clothes more suited for Okhema. I can’t have someone working in my shop wearing rags like those,” she tutted in response.

“I- I just want it known, these clothes weren’t my choice.”

She giggled at that, giving him an understanding smile. He let out a breath, just going along with it as she continued her measurements. The clothes weren’t his style, but he personally wouldn’t go so far as to call them rags. Still he supposed he couldn’t blame a tailor for being especially opinionated, and it was obvious that the style stood out compared to what others in the area wore.

She gently brushed aside the collar of the shirt, pausing when he flinched out of instinct. Her eyes caught on the dark scar she inadvertently revealed. She didn’t say anything, but he knew the questions she was likely asking herself. After all, brands weren’t commonly received willingly, even if you couldn’t immediately tell it was a commodity code. Still, if she wasn’t going to ask, he saw no point in explaining.

“Most of the clothes I’ve seen people wearing are rather… loose. Don’t suppose you have a style that can cover that, do you?” he sighed.

“Not a problem at all,” she answered simply, waving it off entirely. Good.

It was already afternoon by the time she’d finished. He’d been fully measured and forced to stand while she held up small swatches, apparently indecisive about which shades suited him better. He’d endured it all silently, seeing as there wasn’t anything else he had to do. His head ached, and his stomach. He hadn’t managed to sleep at all, and it had nothing to do with the cramped bed or the dusty storage room. Yet, he said nothing. He stood still, until she told him to move his arm or leg or turn this way or that. Obedient. He was good at that. He used to be, anyway.

“Alright, that should be enough for today. Tribbie and Trianne are quite eager to show you around Okhema. They act as if I don’t know they’ve been fluttering around the shop all morning,” she chuckled. “Go on. I’ve made them wait long enough.”

“Oh, um… Right. Okay,” he sighed, seeing already there would be no point in arguing.

As soon as he walked out of the shop, two identical little girls flew down from some other building and landed in front of him. The only difference between them was the way they wore their hair, so he assumed the one with one eye covered must have been Trianne, and the other the Tribbie he’d briefly met the day before. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to be dragged along by the young twins.

“Riney! We’re glad we caught you! Can we show you around the city now? Did you get enough sleep?”

“I…”

He didn’t. Not even close. He also hadn’t really eaten much of the breakfast Aglaea had offered him, though the small catlike creature he’d spotted lounging by the window had certainly enjoyed it. Still, if he claimed to be tired after doing nothing but standing around while Aglaea debated if he looked better in green or blue, he worried they’d think something was wrong with him and drag him to see a doctor, and he really didn’t think he could handle meeting someone like Ratio right now.

“I did,” he gritted, a total lie, “but really, you don’t have to show me around. I’m sure I can figure it out on my own, so please don’t trouble yourself on my account.”

“No, no. It’s no trouble at all! Besides, we know this city better than anyone!” Trianne grinned.

“Yeah, and we can introduce you to all kinds of good people, like Snowy and Cassie, and De. If you’re gonna be staying with Agy, you should probably know the other council members, so we can introduce you to all of them.”

“The… council members? Is Miss Aglaea one of them?”

“Mmhmm! We and Agy are the heads of the council.”

He paused at that. He wasn’t sure what this council was, though he could guess. Aglaea being a member of some council wasn’t much of a shock, with how poised she was, and also with Gallagher having gone directly to her for help when they arrived. However, Tribbie and Trianne were another story. Again, he found himself questioning their age.

“Forgive me if this is inappropriate, but… how old are the two of you? You… are on the council as well?”

“Oh, that’s okay. We know a lot of people find it surprising that we look like children. Actually we are even older than Agy,” Tribbie answered with a kind smile.

“ We think we are… around a thousand years old? We kind of stopped counting after a while,” Trianne mumbled, scratching her chin in thought.

“Trinnon probably knows.”

“Tr- Trinnon?” he repeated, already hoping that didn’t mean there was a third rambunctious red headed not-child.

“Trinnon wanted to come today too, but we already promised to help Cinny in the Twilight Courtyard today, so Trinnon volunteered to meet you another day.”

“I see… And you are… triplets?”

“There used to be more of us but now we are just Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne.”

“Ugh, Trianne! Now Riney’s all confused!” Tribbie whined, probably at whatever shock or horror must have shown on his face. “ We used to be just one person, but when we inherited Janus’ divine authority, we became many of us . But… it's been a long time, and so now there are only three of us . It's okay if it doesn’t make much sense to you. We remember it took Gally a long time to understand too.”

They hadn’t even yet moved from in front of the tailor shop, but he already had enough of a headache to make him regret coming outside. He still couldn’t quite grasp the fact that the two in front of him claimed to be a thousand years old. Even that vidyadhara kid he’d met in the Luofu province couldn’t boast that. He supposed it at least explained how they knew Gallagher at all, but…

“I think I’m just… going to move on,” he grumbled, mostly to himself. “So, this… council. Is that how things are run here in Amphoreus? Is there a king or…”

“The council of heirs is mostly in charge, but there’s also the council of elders which takes care of less important things. We are part of the council of heirs, with Agy and everyone else,” Tribbie explained.

“Let’s see… There's Agy, and Cinny, Cassie, Snowy, Reney, De, Ciphy, and Naxy. There were three others, but… we haven’t found replacements for them yet.

“I thought I was Riney,” he pointed out as he recited the names again in his head, wondering to himself what the hell their actual names would be.

“Oh… you’re right. Hmm, that might get confusing. Reney has always been Reney though… so… We should come up with a new name for you. Venty? No, that doesn’t sound right…”

He knew he’d made a grave mistake as they both started mumbling to themself, even going back and forth with different segments of ‘Aventurine’ before moving on to other nicknames. Blondie? No, that sounds insulting. His eyes are pretty but I can’t think of a nickname for them. Ooh, how about-

“Vasha,” he eventually sighed. “Look, to be honest… My name is… was Kakavasha. My… My sister used to call me Vasha when we were kids. Does that work?”

They stared at each other for a moment before simultaneously nodding their heads, grinning wide with agreement. He let out a silent breath of relief. The name Kakavasha meant as little as the name Aventurine here, so it didn’t really matter which people knew, when he thought about it.

“We like it,” Trianne said, at the same time that Tribbie said “It suits you.”

With the nickname issue apparently settled, they started to drag him along to finally begin their tour. They immediately began chattering, but he found he didn’t mind it. For one, it meant he wasn’t expected to speak. Secondly, as much as it was somewhat too much information all at once, it was helpful to have things explained to him, given how different Amphoreus was to what he knew.

He was shown around different shops and market stalls. This is where to buy the best fruit, this place sells antiquities, this one sells books. Here, a smithy run by a man twice the size of any human he’d ever seen, with blue-grey skin and a way of speaking that implied he didn’t know the language well. He didn’t ask, tried not to stare, and quietly noted in his mind to look up what kinds of races existed in this place. He’d seen no foxians or pepeshi or halovians, and the pointy-eared triplets made no implication that they were vidyadhara, but it was clear there were more than just humans here.

He was shown where those massive beasts he’d seen before were cared for, apparently called ‘dromases’ and then he was taken to the Twilight Courtyard, where he was introduced to the third triplet, Trinnon, a much quieter, composed version of the two accompanying him, as well as Hyacine, giving him the full name of ‘Cinny’. Hyacine was a cheerful young girl with curly pink hair and a blinding smile. He didn’t bother to ask if she was really as young as she looked, but guessed if she was, she was probably in her early twenties. She was kind, almost excessively so, as she immediately told him to just let her know if he was ever feeling unwell.

They explained to him that she was the head doctor of the Twilight Courtyard, and he had to take a moment to grapple with just how different she was from the other doctor he knew. Perhaps it was on him, assuming all physicians were prickly and arrogant, helping you with a facade of reluctance. She was certainly nothing like that, but she was just as infuriatingly observant as Ratio was, he discovered quickly, when she almost immediately caught on to how false his assurance that he’d definitely let her know if he felt unwell was. Thankfully, before she had the opportunity to point it out, or possibly point out that he currently wasn’t well, their introductions were cut short as the triplets, excluding Trinnon, spouted their plans to go to the bathhouse and hopefully find Snowy and De, whoever they were.

The bathhouse was a large, immaculate building with multiple public and private baths. It had rooms that could be rented, functionally serving as an inn as well, though that clearly wasn’t its main appeal. Hot baths, cold baths, indoor, outdoor. It was… certainly nothing he’d ever seen before. It must have been a cultural thing, bathing  publicly together. He doubted he’d ever personally feel comfortable with it, especially not if he had to wear the sort of robes everyone around them was loosely cloaked in. The fewer people who saw his brand, the better. Even if the commodity code meant nothing here, the brand itself would raise questions he’d much rather not answer.

The largest bath at the center of the bathhouse was even grander, with fountains around and at the center of it, and sparkling waters falling from a basin much higher, one that he was currently being led to by his excited guides. They came to a circular platform which, once they were all three stood on it, started to raise itself beneath them. He stumbled slightly, not expecting the floor to move , and ignored the amused giggles that earned him.

“Up here is the bath only allowed to be used by the council of heirs, but we are making an exception for you this time so we can introduce you to Snowy. He and De are pretty much always here around this time,” Tribbie stated as the platform slowly rose.

It gently stopped once it was level with the higher bath, filled with waters subtly shimmering with flecks of gold. How lavish , he thought to himself. He didn’t comment on it. Sitting in the waters were two incredibly muscular men, quietly bickering about something until they noticed the new arrivals. The gentleman with short, silver hair and radiant blue eyes perked up, giving all three of them a wide smile as Aventurine was tugged closer to the water’s edge. The other, with longer blonde hair that faded into red at the ends and piercing gold eyes to match his considerably more dour demeanor, simply stared at him blankly, possibly waiting for an explanation as to who he was that Tribbie and Trianne had brought him to this supposedly exclusive bath.

“Snowy! De! This is Vasha. He came from beyond the mountains, and he’s staying with Agy right now, so we wanted to show him around,” Tribbie immediately introduced, once again saving him from having to say a word.

“Beyond the mountains?” ‘Snowy’, he guessed, if his hair was what earned him that name, asked. He gave Aventurine a once over, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was wondering how someone like him had made it through the abysmal terrain.

“Yep! Gally said he’s from… someplace called Si-Go-Nya, I think.”

“I see. Well met. I’m Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, and this is Mydeimos, from Castrum Kremnos,” he greeted, standing and even holding out a hand in greeting.

“Um… Aventurine… from Sigonia, I guess…” he offered in return, staring down at the water in front of him and debating if he should just step into it to politely take the still outstretched hand.

“How exactly did the ladies Tribios get ‘Vasha’ from the name Aventurine?” Mydeimos rumbled, his voice low and coarse, almost akin to a lion’s growl.

“Kakavasha is my… other name. It’s just one I haven’t gone by in quite a while. They ran into a dilemma, with someone else apparently already being dubbed ‘Riney’.”

“Ah, I see,” Phainon chuckled. “That would be Cyrene. She’s my sister.”

“ We’ve only been able to introduce him to Cinny so far. We know Naxy is at the grove, and Ciphy is always hard to find, but do you know where Reney or Cassie are? We haven’t seen either of them in a while.”

“That would be because they went together to Orynyx’s temple. I think they mentioned looking for some old book there that they found hadn’t been copied into the grove’s library. I’m sure they’ll be back within the next couple of days,” he shrugged, finally sitting back down when Aventurine still hadn’t come any closer.

“In that case, we will have to introduce them to you later.”

“That’s- That’s okay. You really didn’t have to introduce me to anyone…”

“Don’t be silly! People never come from past the mountains, plus you’re friends with Gally! Of course we would want to introduce you,” Trianne giggled with a shake of her head.

“Who is Gally?” Mydeimos asked, sounding just as unimpressed as before.

“Gally is someone who also came from over the mountains, a long time ago, but he left before you two were even born. He brought Vasha here to protect him from some mean king where they’re from.”

“Is that what he said?” Aventurine scoffed. The king wasn’t even involved in his banishment, so why blame him? “Gallagher isn’t really a friend. He’s a Bloodhound the prince assigned to get rid of me, that’s all.”

“A… Bloodhound?” Phainon parroted, looking confused.

“Asdana’s royal guards. If I remember correctly, they’re called that because they were originally led by the Bloodhound family or something. I only lived there for a few years, so I’m far from an expert.”

“You know… Snowy would probably really like to hear about it anyway. He likes history and old artifacts and stuff, and you’re from places we don’t really know anything about!” Tribbie hummed encouragingly. “ We have already shown you around Okhema, and we won’t be able to take you to the grove until another day. Maybe De could make you dinner and you can tell Snowy more about it? We don’t want to leave you, but Trinnon is saying she needs our help.”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s… I can just go back to Miss Aglaea’s shop on my own. I don’t really need dinner, and I don’t want to trouble-”

“But you didn’t eat lunch,” Tribbie frowned.

“And you fed your breakfast to a chimera,” Trianne added, making his blood run cold. How did they even know that?

“Plus, Gally said you barely touched your food at the diner last night, but that he was hoping it was just because you were tired.”

“Who knew the one keeping the prince’s dirty secrets would turn out to be a snitch,” Aventurine muttered to himself. “I’m fine, really. I just… don’t eat much.”

“That much is evident,” Mydeimos scoffed as he abruptly stood up. “I’ll make you a meal, one you daren’t feed to a chimera.”

There was bloodcurdling power in his voice, almost as if it was a threat as much as an order. As if he took offense to hearing what had happened to his breakfast. Given the fact that the man was probably twice his width and purely muscle, any argument Aventurine might have made promptly died on his tongue. Phainon, not quite as wide but slightly taller and just as muscular tried to gently coax Aventurine over to the floating platform, as if he wasn’t just as intimidating as the gruff man already standing there with his thick arms crossed. Tribbie and Trianne flew away, apparently satisfied with the results, and Aventurine swallowed his protest in defeat.

“I… really don’t need you to make me anything,” he exhaled weakly as the platform descended. Even though there was ample room, he felt trapped between the two men towering over him.

“Nonsense. Even those with weak appetites eat more than once in two days. I question how you even made it through the mountains, being that scrawny,” Mydeimos huffed.

“Well… I was being carried by a horse for most of it.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Oh, leave him alone, Mydei. Perhaps he just… isn’t used to the food here. It could be very different from what they have in Singonia.”

“Sigonia,” Aventurine corrected before he could think better of it. “That’s not it anyway. I’m not picky about food, I just… am not very hungry.”

The two shared a look that told him that he wasn’t convincing anyone. After they’d gotten dressed, Mydei eventually parted with them to ‘cook something even you can’t refuse’, sufficiently leaving Aventurine utterly speechless. Phainon led him to a grassy area lined with trees, guiding him to a shaded bench to sit while they waited.

“So… I know Lady Tribbie was just coming up with an excuse to leave you with us, but I genuinely wouldn’t mind learning a bit about what’s beyond the mountains. That… Sigonia place you come from,” Phainon said as he sat as well.

“There’s not much to tell about that place. It’s an arid, uninhabitable desert where the people too foolish to leave pray to an uncaring god for trickles of rain. I’ve never once thought about going back since I left.”

“I… see. A, um… desert?”

He looked confused, and it took Aventurine a minute to figure out why. Amphoreus was certainly large, but there was no chance of there being any deserts here. Then, considering how closed off they were by the mountains… of course, he wouldn’t even know what that was. Aventurine let out a sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes as he tried to remember those fleeting, desperate years.

“Nothing but dry dirt and sand, dotted with what few plants can survive with little to no water and near constant sun and heat. The only animals that live there are those that can burrow underground. It was boiling hot during the day, freezing cold at night, and resources like food and water were practically nonexistent. How the Avgins managed to survive as long as they did is honestly a wonder… but it doesn’t matter. I’m probably the only one left.”

“The Avgins… Is that the name of the city you grew up in, or-”

“There were no cities in Sigonia,” Aventurine answered, cutting him off. “Staying in one place in the desert means nothing but death. The people there lived in nomadic tribes. My family were Avgins, until they were all killed by Katicans. At least they had a better way to get resources. It’s always so much easier to just take everything from those weaker than you,” he scoffed bitterly.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s fine. You’d have a much harder time bringing up any good ones,” Aventurine sighed, opening his eyes and glancing over at Phainon.

He looked genuinely guilty. It almost made him want to laugh. They’d just met and he’d already made things tense. He was normally better at this, wasn’t he? He was finding it hard to care. The prince had managed to do one thing for him. He’d sent him somewhere where his past truly did not exist.

“Sigonia is a landlocked region on the western end of the continent across the western sea. It’s as far away from this place as it could be. I’ve spent the past few years in Asdana, a kingdom far south from here. It’s… not all that it’s cracked up to be, but it’s better than most of the other places I’ve lived. A wealthy nation that boasts abundance and harmony, but in truth that lavishness is reserved for its capital city, Penacony. That place itself is secretly a den of depravity, but it’s a better place to live than the countless slums and struggling villages dotted around Asdana, out of sight from gleaming Penacony. So out of sight, I sometimes wonder if the prince even knows the true state of the kingdom he’s supposed to inherit. Then again, he did a great job fooling me into thinking he was a kind person, so maybe he’s not as naive as I thought either,” Aventurine rambled, just to fill the somewhat awkward silence. Phainon said nothing to interrupt, so he kept going. “I didn’t live there by choice but… things were fine. It was the first place I’d been that I didn’t want to leave. I… I didn’t want to leave. That bastard…”

”Do you mean the king that threatened you?”

“The king never threatened me. The king doesn’t know I exist. It was the prince who decided he didn’t want to see me anymore. He’d had his fun, and rather than just… tell me he was bored of it, he gave some bullshit story about protecting me and had his favorite dog drag me through forests and mountains until he could dump me somewhere that prince would never have to remember he’d ever even known me. Whether Gallagher knows that and was covering for him, or if the prince just lied to him too, I don’t know and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here now, and it sounds like this place doesn’t operate under a monarchy, which is fortunate. I think if I had to kiss ass to yet another royal bastard I’d just…”

“How fortunate indeed,” came a grumble in front of them.

Mydei approached with a tray, on top of which was what Aventurine guessed was his dinner. He couldn’t quite see what it was, with how Mydei was standing over him, with an oddly half amused expression on his face. Aventurine swallowed, not sure how to deal with the much more stoic man.

“Tell me, what would you do if you met another prince?”

“I- I don’t know… Tell him from the beginning that I have no interest getting involved with some privileged, arrogant asshole, no matter how much he begs me to fuck him.”

Phainon started choking beside him while Mydeimos seemed largely unaffected, save a small smirk curving his lips and a glint of amusement in his eyes. After Phainon struggled to regain his composure, Mydei huffed out a short laugh, finally handing Aventurine the tray of food while lightly shaking his head.

“To think the mighty deliverer would be taken out by a few crass words from the outsider,” he tutted, rolling his eyes when Phainon wheezed around an excuse. “At any rate, I shall keep that in mind, should such a desire ever strike me.”

“Wh- What?”

“My- Mydei- Mydeimos is the- the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos,” Phainon stammered out between coughs.

Aventurine felt his face flush as the reason for Phainon’s sudden fit became clear. Still, Mydeimos was clearly not offended. He’d been the one who’d goaded Aventurine into continuing, had laughed at Phainon’s reaction. Even now, there was a small grin on his face as he gently tapped the corner of the tray gripped tightly in Aventurine’s hands.

“You’re not my type, anyhow. Eat.”

“I- That’s- I mean…”

“It’s fine. Only Kremnoans still refer to me as such, and this deliverer here. Castrum Kremnos no longer exists, and neither does its monarchy. Now, eat.”

Even though he was proving to be slightly less intimidating than he seemed, Aventurine really didn’t want to find out what Mydei would do if he tried to insist he really wasn’t hungry. So, he ate, and tried to ignore how it only served to make his stomach feel even worse. Maybe something really was wrong with him.

It was slow, despite the fact that he was given relatively small portions. Mydei and Phainon remained there as he ate, possibly to ensure none of the food was sneakily handed off to the chimeras roaming around the area. At least they decided to hold a conversation he needn’t be a part of, meaning he felt marginally less watched while he forced himself to swallow down the admittedly very good food.

“Don’t you think it could be insulting to tell him he’s not your type?” Phainon chided, sounding petulant now that he’d regained the ability to breathe normally.

“How is that insulting? It’s just a fact.”

“So what is your type then? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you interested in anyone.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mydei scoffed, arms crossed.

“Well… Yes. That is why I asked.”

“I’m not all that inclined to answer. You don’t need to know.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you care, deliverer? It’s not like I’m asking you what type of person you’re into.”

“Well, if you did, I would tell you.”

“Is that so? Go on then. Are scrawny guys like him your type, then? Given how much you used to go on about that pretty boy professor of yours, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I- That’s not- I admire Professor Anaxa a lot, but that’s all it is. I’ve never once thought of him like you’re implying.”

“So, you’re saying he’s not your type then? Here I thought you believed that to be insulting,” Mydei drawled, smirking like he’d already won the argument.

Aventurine could feel eyes on him as Phainon glanced over. He was hilariously easy to read, even for a complete stranger. His dilemma was practically written on his face as he tried to decide if it would be more inappropriate to say that Aventurine wasn't his type, or to say that he was, regardless of which was actually true. He continued to eat in silence, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.

“I… don’t have a type,” Phainon finally decided on. “The person who catches my interest would just be whoever catches my interest.”

“How predictably noncommittal of you,” Mydei scoffed.

“Your turn, Mydei.”

“I never actually said I would tell you my type just because you told me yours, deliverer,” he huffed. “But if you’re truly so desperate to know, it’s simple. My type is just anyone who can match me in battle.”

Aventurine paused, glancing up at the truly impressive thickness of his arms, ever more prevalent when he had them crossed as they were. His answer really shouldn’t have been a surprise. It clearly wasn't to Phainon either, who simply let out a short laugh as he leant back on the bench, crossing his own arms to match the man’s posture.

“I should have guessed. You have such high standards, Mydeimos! I can hardly think of anyone who could accomplish that, save for me of course,” he chuckled, sounding proud.

“You don’t say,” was his only response, his rumbling voice calm and even.

Aventurine was the one to nearly choke this time, as the implication caused him to swallow a bit too fast. Phainon, either totally oblivious or possibly aware and intentionally ignoring it, said nothing in response, instead looking at Aventurine with concern when he started to quietly cough. Mydeimos didn’t look the slightest bit sheepish about his words. Then again, he couldn’t imagine him being sheepish about anything.

“You okay?” Phainon asked, gently patting Aventurine’s back as he painfully forced a deep breath.

“Just… went down wrong,” he coughed briefly. “I’m fine.”

It felt like mercy when he finally managed to finish his food and was led back to the tailor shop, though his escort got him more than a few wandering stares. He could imagine his escorts were often stared at, as conspicuous as they were. If he understood what Tribbie had explained to him earlier, they were also members of the ruling council of this place, in addition to Mydeimos specifically being, or perhaps formerly being, a prince. How he’d managed to get wrapped up in such people a mere day after arriving, he could only wonder if it was due to his good luck, or his bad luck.

“You didn’t have to walk me back. I’m perfectly capable of finding my way on my own.”

“Sure, but you only just got here, right? I didn’t have anything else to do anyway,” Phainon smiled down at him. “It was nice to meet you, Aventurine.”

“Ah… Likewise…”

His following days were far less busy, thankfully. He slowly got used to working in the tailor shop, got used to frequent visits from one, two, or all of the triplets, got used to being introduced to anyone who passed through. After a month, he’d met every single one of the council of heirs, save for the one he’d heard referred to as ‘Naxy’ ‘Anaxa’ ‘Professor Anaxa’ and, mostly from Aglaea, ‘that performer’. He apparently spent just about all of his time at the Grove of Epiphany, which wasn't far from Okhema, but Aventurine had had no desire to traverse beyond the city bounds.

He’d settled into a somewhat peculiar routine. Feed the grey-furred chimera that had started to camp outside his window in the morning whatever breakfast Aglaea had kindly prepared for him, despite his repeated attempts to insist he wasn't hungry and she need not make him anything. Spend the morning to early afternoon doing whatever was needed of him in the tailor shop. While he wasn't as skilled as the Goldweaver, he’d already had some ability with sewing, enough to feel his work wasn't detrimental more than it was helpful. He was more than capable enough to handle the usually simpler tasks asked of him, at least.

To make up for where he did lack, he had entirely taken it upon himself to handle anyone and everyone who entered the shop during the day. With customers and council members alike, he asserted himself as Aglaea’s unofficial secretary, more than an employee of the shop itself. People were where his skills lied anyway, so it suited him.

Without fail, once the sun passed its peak, Aglaea would order him to get himself lunch at the diner, usually with some sly indication that she knew he’d fed the chimera and not himself, again. He’d leave the shop and wander the streets for a short while before sitting on a rooftop somewhere he could watch people go about their days. The longer he did it, the more he started to recognize some of the faces, even matching them to names if they were someone who had come to the shop.

He’d just sit and watch for an hour or two before returning, claiming he’d eaten, saying he’d ordered whatever was listed as the daily special when he passed by on his way back. He was almost certain she never believed him, but beyond a resigned sigh, she never bothered to call him out on it.

If there was anything else to do for the day, he’d focus on work for the next few hours. If there wasn't, he’d read whatever book the triplets had brought him most recently. For some reason, they’d assigned themselves as his personal teacher for anything about Amphoreus that was unfamiliar to him. In return, he answered whatever questions they had about the world beyond the mountains, the best he could at any rate.

Then, around the time the sun started to set, he’d be dragged out of the shop, usually by either Phainon or Cyrene, and be forced into eating whatever Mydei had made for dinner, with eagle eyes on him to ensure the food was actually eaten. He pretended not to notice the steadily increasing portions he was given.

Finally, he’d go back to the shop, curl up in the too small bed, and…

During the day, it was easy not to think about anything. He could focus on work, on books, on other people’s lives. Even in the quiet moments, people watching or wandering the streets, he could distract himself with anything else around him, anything to not have to think about what had brought him here. Anything to not think about Sunday. At night though… there was nothing left to occupy him. Nothing but silence, nothing but darkness, nothing at all to keep his mind from creeping back to thoughts he didn’t want to think.

When they found a house for him, he feigned gratitude while Aglaea tried not to show her hesitance at the idea of leaving him alone. He was grateful, for everything people were doing for him… but it felt too undeserved. The stuffy storage room and too-small bed felt appropriate for the unannounced arrival, a total stranger thrust upon these people to care for with nothing promised in return. Sure, he was helping Aglaea with the shop, but she had been paying him. Wasn't everything else too much? He hadn’t even used any of the money given him, seeing as clothes and food were forced on him without him even asking.

It made no sense to him. There was no way they were that close with Gallagher. Any novelty there might have been with him being from ‘beyond the mountains’ surely should have worn off by now. People weren’t this endlessly kind without reason, without it serving themselves in some way. He’d offered them nothing at all of value.

One month after arriving in Amphoreus, he had his first night truly alone. An empty house. A proper bed. Far enough from usually busy market streets that it was truly, completely silent. It was deafening.

It was a week later when he finally met the only remaining council member. Midafternoon, on a day Aglaea had ordered him to go home and rest the very minute he’d tried walking through the tailor shop door, he heard a knock. The man standing at his door was maybe an inch shorter than he was, with long, pale green hair tied into a low loose ponytail and an ornate eyepatch covering one eye. The one left uncovered bore into him as if he’d caused great offense by simply existing. He was briefly looked over as if being appraised and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the verdict.

“I am Anaxagoras, one of the seven sages of the Grove of Epiphany,” he greeted cordially, his voice so stern and demanding by its very nature that Aventurine felt like he was being scolded. “You are Aventurine, correct?”

“I am…”

“I’m here as a favor for Hyacinthia. Do you have anything in your possession that belongs- or belonged- to your prince?”

“Wh- What? Why?”

“A gift he gave you perhaps. Anything that was once held by his hands.”

“I came here with nothing. You still haven’t said why.”

“A pity. Even the clothes you wore when you first came here?”

“He didn’t give me those. Look, the only thing he’s ever given me is grief, so…” he paused, remembering the one other thing. Something he very much still had. “Would a key work?”

“If it is something he gave you, yes.”

“Here, then. Take it,” he sighed, dragging it out from under his collar.

He’d put the key on a small, discarded length of twine a couple days after working in the tailor shop. Aglaea had somehow noticed, and put it on a chain for him instead. She didn’t ask what it was, or why he’d decided to wear it like a necklace. He was glad, because he didn’t want to admit the reason why. Anaxagoras held the key up slightly, turning it gingerly between his fingers.

“Are you going to tell me why you want something of Sunday’s now?”

“Sunday. Is that his name?”

“Yes…”

“Hm, perfect. This will do nicely.”

“For what ? Aventurine gritted out.

“Alchemy can achieve a great many things. With this, even sending a message beyond those accursed mountains is possible. Something not even the demigod of passages can accomplish, I can do with ease,” he spouted smugly.

“You… want to send Sunday a message?” Aventurine asked, suddenly feeling icy cold. “No. Who asked you to do that? Give that back-”

“You wear his key around your neck, but you don’t wish to contact him?”

“That- The key has nothing to do with him,” Aventurine protested, only to be given a skeptical eyebrow raise in return. “I mean, it’s his key, but…”

“Well, it’s no matter. Hyacinthia and that woman have already provided me with the message they would like me to pass on, so your addition isn’t necessary. Though, I should thank you for providing me with his name, as it will aid my credibility,” Anaxa stated with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “Do not worry. The key will be unaffected by this, and I will return it to you when I am done.”

“What? What do Hyacin- Hyacinthia? What do they even want to contact him for? They don’t even know who he is!”

“Yes, but of course the one who inherited Mnestia’s divinity would be just as inclined to meddle in others affairs as the damned romance titan herself.”

“I-”

“I’ll be honest, I have no interest in the quarrels between you and your lover, but the opportunity to test a theory I have, until now, not had the resources to attempt was an opportunity that would be foolish to refuse, even if it does come at the behest of the goldweaver.”

“He- He’s not my lover.”

“Apologies. Your former lover, then. Now, I will allow you to return to your day, and will return this to you once I have finished.”

“Wait, wait, wait ,” Aventurine huffed as he turned. “Just… What exactly are you planning to say to him? Why?”

“I… cannot tell you,” Anaxa frowned.

“What?”

“Aglaea believed that information could be… detrimental. At first, I thought she was exaggerating, but… Having met you now, unfortunately I must say I agree. That aside, if you do have anything you would wish me to pass on for you, I am willing to do so.”

Aventurine chewed on his lip as Anaxa waited patiently. He was staring at him with the kind of gentle look he’d previously assumed would be impossible for him. Infuriatingly, it made him think of Ratio. Arrogant, wordy, endlessly judgemental… all to hide how much he cared about people. It seemed Anaxa was much the same. He let out a sigh.

“Tell him… I’m doing… so good, without him. He actually kept a promise to me. I’m free, and no longer living my life constantly looking over my shoulder. I’m doing great, so th- so fuck you,” Aventurine muttered shakily, closing his eyes and turning away once his eyes began to sting again.

“Very well. I shall tell him,” Anaxa replied after a moment, before walking away.

With the majority of the ritual already prepared, he finally had the one remaining variable. An object to serve as a guide to the desired subject. He let out a deep breath as pricked his finger, dropping a bit of blood to serve as a catalyst, binding his and only his soul to the ritual. He placed the key in the center of the circle. In truth, he should have stayed longer and asked Aventurine for a description of the prince. Whatever the key was for, it could have been owned by any number of people still living. At least he had a name. It would be good enough.

The lines of the circle started to light as the ritual activated. He forced down the bubble of laughter that formed in his throat as it started to work. A crystalline figure formed in front of him, abstract, at first. Then the planes began to divide and form more distinct features, until he had an almost perfect image of the prince. The crystals were colorless, but he could see what appeared to be small wings sticking out from his hair, and an odd sort of crown that hovered behind his head, somehow entirely unattached to his body. He held himself with impeccable stature, even as he gawked at what was likely Anaxa’s own countenance appearing beside him. Not knowing for how long the ritual would hold a stable connection, he wasted no time in speaking.

“Greetings, Prince Sunday. There is not much time, so I will not waste words. I am Anaxagoras, and I appear before you to pass on a message from Aventurine. More accurately, from the woman currently serving as Aventurine’s caretaker.”

His script was beside him, the words crafted by the goldweaver and Hyacine. He tossed it aside with a small smile. How much effort they must have put into deciding what words would best enact their grand scheme… but a great performer, as she so often liked to call him, did not need a script. As the details of the man before him refined, he knew their script would not work. Not with what he saw. It didn’t matter. He knew what would.

“Aventurine… is dying.”

Notes:

So, genuine question... Would people be okay if I potentially had something happen between Aventurine and Phainon/Mydei, or both? Don't have it written yet, but had an idea for it, but I don't want to do it if people would hate it. Opinions would be greatly appreciated <3

Chapter 18

“Aventurine is dying,” the strange apparition said, immediately turning every drop of blood in Sunday’s veins into ice.

“W-What? How? Who even are you?” Robin questioned the shimmering figure while Sunday’s throat was far too tight to even try to speak.

“Hey, pretty boy. Breathe,” Boothill spoke up, immediately coming over to pat him on the back. The figure wasn't saying anything more, standing there with arms crossed.

“H-How-” he managed to squeeze out, clutching his neck.

“We do not know the cause of his illness, but it has worsened to the point that he is no longer able to take in food. He won’t last long. As such, we decided to at least contact you, should you have anything you wish to tell him in his dying moments.”

“I… I don’t… Why-”

Even with Boothill’s hand on his back, his legs grew too weak to hold him. He crumpled on the floor, staring at the shoes of the messenger. Everything he’d been doing… did it even matter anymore? Aventurine would die, somewhere far away and all alone. It was his fault. If he hadn’t sent him away, maybe he wouldn’t have fallen ill, or even if he had, they could have-

“I apologize. I do not mean to rush you, but this ritual will not hold forever. Is there anything you wish to tell him?”

“T- Tell him… I am sorry. I- I only wanted to protect him from my father and Lady Bonajade. If I had been more prepared, none of this would have happened.”

“Sunday-”

“No, Robin… just… I am a fool, and I cannot hope you will forgive me for what I did to you. For tuning you, and for making you leave, for expressing my disdain for those who stole your autonomy, only to go and do the same. You are all that I have thought of since Gallagher took you away… No. Since the day we met, I have not stopped thinking about you. If- If I had known…”

“Is there anything else?” the figure asked when a moment passed in silence.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry,” Sunday sobbed, clenching his fists. “You may not believe me, but I… love you. I have spent all this time trying to bring you back. I am sorry I did not do enough.”

With his eyes closed, he could not see if the apparition was still there. It was silent for a few moments, before he once again heard the messenger’s voice. He let out a short laugh, or perhaps more of a scoff. Did even he not believe the prince’s words?

“I have recorded your message, and will play it back for him at the earliest convenience. Hopefully this will convince the stubborn man to finally eat something, and he will not have to die after all,” the man said.

“What?”

“My apologies for deceiving you. Aventurine’s illness is one of the heart, not the body. His anorexia is self-inflicted. That woman hopes your words will convince him not to waste away any further.”

“Who are you?” Robin demanded, but either he did not hear her, or decided not to react.

“Ah, right. He gave me a message for you as well. He wanted me to lie to you, and tell you he was doing well without you, and to thank you for ‘freeing him’. Now then, with all messages passed on, I will bid you farewell. May Cerces safeguard your thoughts.”

The man gave a performative bow, and then the apparition vanished in the same way it appeared. Sunday's head felt weighed down by conflicting information and emotion. The tears on his cheeks scalded his skin. Even if that man, whoever he was, had exaggerated, he hadn’t lied. Aventurine wasn't eating, and it was Sunday’s fault. He was killing himself, all because of what he had done.

“What kind of rat bastard- Poppin’ up outta nowhere like a ghost and spewing bullshit,” Boothill sputtered. “Did that motherfucker actually laugh at givin’ us all a damn heart attack? Sayin’ Aventurine was dyin’ like that.”

“Brother?” Robin murmured, kneeling next to him. “Are you alright?”

“I… I have changed my mind,” he rasped out, throat still feeling tight. “I will write the letter. Mister Boothill, if you could please…”

“Yeah, course. You just get that hound o’ yours to tell me where he’s at. I’ll find him,” he assured. “Give that smarmy asshole a good whack while I’m at it.”

The very reason Robin and Boothill were in his chambers was to convince him to allow Boothill to send a letter on his behalf, explaining thoroughly exactly what had happened, and why he had felt the need to send Aventurine away. He’d refused before, even though they had explained their reasoning, but now… he had to agree. Aventurine needed to know everything, and Boothill would be a safe messenger. Gallagher had eyes watching him, but Boothill did not. He was not even a resident of Penacony, despite his frequent visits. No one would think twice of him leaving to go anywhere, and the only ones who knew he had any connection to the royal family, were the very ones helping him in his aims to dethrone the king.

“I… will tell Gallagher to share what he knows. Please, if you could both… just give me a while… to pen my words for him.”

“Take your time. I ain’t going nowhere. You know where to find me when you got it ready,” Boothill drawled, then he and Robin took their leave.

It felt like ages had passed before he was able to drag himself up off the floor and over to his desk. He picked up a quill, flattened down a sheet of parchment… and wrote everything that was swirling around in his mind. He waited patiently for all three pages of his letter to dry before folding them gently. He stamped the letter with not the Oak family seal, but one of his own small, downy feathers, freshly plucked from the base of his wing.

He did not know how long the letter would take to reach him, did not even know if Aventurine would choose to read it. It was clear that Sunday had wounded him, no matter what his intentions had been. He’d hurt him deeply enough that Aventurine would not even eat, or perhaps even worse. Perhaps that man, Anaxagoras, had not even told him the true depths of the damage he’d caused.

He decided it did not matter how long the letter took to reach him or if he read it. All that mattered was that he was being taken care of. The letter could be used as an excuse more than anything else. Boothill would have to see him to deliver the message, and could see how he was faring, if he was still not eating, if he was worse than implied… or if he was doing well after all.

As much as he hated the circumstances they’d found themselves in, he couldn’t help but feel it was still the best he could do right now. Gallagher had managed to convince the king that Aventurine had been taken south, and had likely stowed away on a boat heading overseas. With no trail to follow, he’d given up on his attempt at pursuit, though Boothill had informed him of a bounty that had been placed. If Aventurine was to be spotted anywhere in the bounds of Asdana, he was to be brought to the castle directly. It was only a small consolation that the bounty ordered him to be returned alive, though Sunday knew that was not mercy. He was simply no use to the king if he was already dead.

“That it?” Boothill asked when he found him later and handed him the sealed letter.

“Yes, and please give him this as well,” Sunday confirmed, handing off the gift he’d prepared. It was something he had planned to give him once things were resolved, but he no longer felt it could wait.

“A… necklace?”

“It is… No. It does not matter. I have explained in the letter for him. He will know what it means.”

“Alright. Don’t you worry none, pretty boy. I’ll get these both to him safe and sound.”

“Thank you… though I do wish you would stop calling me that.”

“Hey now, we’re practically family now, ain’t we? Feels wrong, callin’ ya’ your highness or whatever.”

Sunday simply sighed in resignation. He wasn’t sure if Boothill was intentionally trying to provoke him, or if there was some other reason he’d taken to calling him by the somewhat belittling nickname. He supposed it was better than him calling him ‘brother’. At least if someone overheard, they would assume insolence rather than the actual relationship that existed between him and Robin.

Anaxagoras strutted into the dining room just as Mydei had set a plate of that night's dinner in front of Aventurine, looking as smug as a cat with a mouse between its teeth. Phainon, who had been glaring down at the gruel he’d been given, a striking contrast to the meat and fresh vegetables in front of Aventurine, brightened slightly at the professor’s entrance. Still, he made no attempt to even acknowledge the other two, simply coming up to Aventurine, and pulling out the borrowed key.

“I was successful in my endeavor, and have returned with a response from your prince. If you-”

“I don’t need to know what he said. Just-”

“Do not interrupt me,” Anaxa chided, narrowing his eyes. “Especially not to say something so ridiculously incorrect. You do, in fact, need to hear what he had to say.”

“Sorry…” Aventurine mumbled, looking away. “Fine then. Just tell me.”

“It is better if I show you, rather.”

He tapped the key against the table, turning it in a way that seemed very deliberate before leaving it on the edge. After a flourish of his hands, an image of the prince appeared, looking as if he’d been intricately carved out of quartz. He was sitting on the ground with his legs folded beneath him and a hand covering his mouth, eyes wide and looking completely shocked.

“ This is your prince?” Mydei scoffed, obviously unimpressed.

“Wh- What? Yes, that’s… What is this?”

“Alchemy, of course. Now, listen.”

With another twirl of his fingers, the projection started to move, just slightly. The motion of breathing, of a shaking hand falling slowly from his mouth. Blinking eyes, and tears trailing down his cheeks. Finally, the movement of his lips, carrying what was distinctly Sunday’s voice.

“Tell him I am sorry. I only wanted to protect him from my father and Lady Bonajade. If I had been more prepared, none of this would have happened,” the image spoke, the words staggered and feeling every bit like they had been dragged from a pit of grief. After a moment, he looked briefly to the side before putting up a hand and shaking his head. Then, “No, Robin.”

“Robin? His sister was there?”

Anaxa did something to pause the projection, and he could see in detail the despair written on the prince’s face. He wondered how it would look, if those shimmering eyes held his golden hue. He wondered if the appearance of dark circles underneath the prince's eyes was a manifestation of the alchemy, or a detail he’d have seen if actually in front of him.

“I could not tell you. I only saw and heard him, no one else. There is more, so please,” the professor sighed before continuing the projection’s dialogue.

“I am a fool, and I cannot hope you will forgive me for what I did to you. For tuning you, and for making you leave, for expressing my disdain for those who stole your autonomy, only to go and do the same,” Sunday continued, his voice straining around the words. “You are all that I have thought of since Gallagher took you away. No. Since the day we met, I have not stopped thinking about you. If I had known…”

The voice trailed off as Sunday curled up further into himself. His hands covered his eyes, though he made no effort to wipe away the tears falling from them. Eventually, he was folded against the ground as if bowing, and his hands fell to clench into fists against the ground.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry. You may not believe me, but I love you. I have spent all this time trying to bring you back. I am sorry I did not do enough.”

“There. That is the end of it,” Anaxa huffed, as if to indicate it was now okay for him to speak.

But Aventurine had nothing to say. The image vanished, and he was left with nothing to stare at except the key, still sitting on the edge of the table, too far away from him to reach. He didn’t know how to feel. Had he ever seen the prince cry before? Let alone to curl up on the ground, to sob as if mourning the dead, all because Aventurine was somewhere else, and by his own doing. Was it guilt? Regret? Did it matter? Was it even genuine?

“Aventurine?” Phainon spoke, gently tapping his pinky against Aventurine’s hand.

“S- So what. He just… He’s just… really… really good at lying,” Aventurine stammered, covering his eyes before anyone could see them begin to water.

“I assure you,” Anaxagoras muttered, his voice laced with subtle pity, “his every word was genuine. There would have been no purpose to him lying to me, given what I told him first.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That does not matter. Simply trust that everything I have shown you is the absolute truth. I can tell you that with complete confidence.”

As if the record was still playing, Aventurine heard the prince’s words on repeat. His apologies, the tears in his voice. Traitorously, his mind hung on the confession, slipped in amongst everything else like a footnote. On the grief in the ‘I love you’, as if the words would never be able to reach him. Or maybe it was grief that Aventurine would never believe them.

“Even if it is the truth, so what? What does that change? Just because he’s sorry he abandoned me, it doesn’t change the fact that he fucking abandoned me ,” Aventurine spat bitterly. “You’re right that it doesn’t matter what you told him. None of it matters. It doesn’t matter how bad he feels about it. He should feel bad. No matter what his reasons were, he fucking tuned me into going the fuck away. You want me to feel sorry for him or something?”

“You’re missing the-”

“I told him everything. I trusted him even after spending my entire life trusting no one . I- What does it matter what his reasons are or how he fucking feels about it when he betrayed that, even though he knew just how hard it was for me to give it. Did you think it would make me feel better to know he’s hurting too? It doesn’t! He doesn’t get to act like he didn’t have a fucking choice in the matter, when I was the one who wasn’t given a choice. He took away my choice. He could have just fucking talked to me, but even in your bullshit message of him crying about being sorry he still doesn’t say why he did this. Saying sorry doesn’t fix anything, it doesn’t take it back. I’m still here in another fucking cage but props to the man, at least he upgraded my shackles.”

Maybe, if he had any ability to think clearly in the moment, he would have been embarrassed about the rant. For all his bullshitting and bluster, he’d always been good at hiding how he really felt. He’d never shown fear or cried in front of others, no matter what. Until Sunday. Until he’d done him the disservice of appearing in his life with kind words and gentle hands and made him feel safe, truly safe for the first time in his life. Until he was too afraid of losing that to hold back his tears.

He stood up, angrily scrubbing away the salty tears staining his cheeks. His head ached terribly, and he still couldn’t stop Sunday’s words from cycling through his mind over and over. He felt a hand circle around his wrist as he started to stomp away, and didn’t even know whose it was as he swatted at it to free himself. If anyone said anything, he couldn’t hear it over the deafening ringing in his ears and Sunday’s persistent voice. Even if he tried to look at who’d grabbed him, his vision was too blurry to distinguish faces.

“You couldn’t have waited until he had eaten his food?” Mydei grumbled once Aventurine had stormed away, challenging Anaxa with an annoyed look.

“How was I supposed to know he’d react like that?” he huffed. “More than the apologies, I believed the more crucial part of the prince's message was that he was working on a solution for Aventurine to return.”

Mydei rolled his eyes and turned to Phainon. He was still sitting silently, staring forlornly at the ignored plate of food. He let out a sigh, shaking his head. It had already been hard enough to keep Aventurine from starving himself. Was this going to make things even worse?

“Don’t you dare take his dinner for yourself, HKS,” he growled.

“What kind of person do you think I am?” Phainon protested. “I… was actually thinking I’ll just bring it to him. I won’t guarantee I can convince him to eat it, but compared to you two I probably have a better chance, right?”

“Tch. The only reason he’s been eating at all is because he’s too afraid of upsetting me … but fine, I’ll concede. In this solitary instance, you may have a better chance.”

He got up to leave, taking Aventurine’s dinner with him, but was quickly stopped by Anaxa. The professor let out a sigh, wordlessly picking up and holding out the key he’d used to project the prince’s image. Phainon raised a brow at it, unsure why it was being offered.

“I told him I would give it back when I was done, but I will also concede that my presence will be unwanted. Give it back to him for me.”

He took the key with a nod and made his way over to Aventurine’s house. He hesitated outside his closed bedroom door, debating on if he should even knock. He decided against it, knowing Aventurine would likely just tell him to leave either way. The door swung open silently, and he was greeted by Aventurine’s back facing him as he was curled up in the bed, facing the wall.

He didn’t seem to hear him enter, as he didn’t react at all until Phainon set down his dinner plate on the bedside table. He jolted up at the sound, rapidly turning around to face the intruder. Seeing it was Phainon, he relaxed only slightly, his eyes darting over to see what he’d placed. Before Phainon could say a word, he scoffed and turned back around.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve said that every single day since I’ve met you,” Phainon sighed. “The clothes Aglaea made for you a month ago are already too big on you now.”

“It’s fine.”

“How about I give you a choice? You can eat, and I’ll leave you alone once you’re done… or you can talk to me about what happened with that prince, and I’ll accept that you’re not hungry, just for tonight.”

Aventurine turned over so he was lying on his back and rolled his head to look at Phainon. Once again, he was being nicer than he needed to be, far nicer than what made sense. He glanced briefly at the food. It was obvious what Phainon was trying to do. He wouldn’t want to talk about Sunday, so he’d reluctantly accept the food so Phainon would go away. It was the exact same tactic Ratio liked to use. Give him a choice between two things he hated, and make the result you actually want the less daunting option.

“There’s nothing more to say. Didn’t you already hear way more than you wanted earlier?”

“Not at all. I only know that something happened between you, not at all what it was. Up until now, I’ve avoided asking, since I can understand not wanting to talk about it… So, if you still don’t want to, it’s your choice,” he said, reaching over and tapping the edge of the plate.

Even just looking at the food made his stomach churn. Perhaps it was hunger, but it felt like nausea. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. He should just give in, sit up, and eat the damn food. Phainon was being nice, but he probably didn’t actually care. He wasn’t really hoping for Aventurine to tell him, he just wanted him to eat. Yet… as much as he hated talking about himself, and as much as he didn’t want to talk about this in particular… the food seemed worse somehow.

“I was a merchant when I was living in Asdana. I ran a shop that sold adult toys, and Sunday came in as a customer. Of course, he had no idea what he was doing, what he was even looking for. He ended up propositioning me without even realizing the meaning of his words. It wasn’t unusual for customers to occasionally make passes at me, given what the products were and the fact that I am… passably attractive. Long before the prince came along, I’d come up with a set of rules that I’d give whenever someone made advances. Without fail, one of the rules would always make people change their mind, so even though it seemed like I was accepting, I never really had to… until… Until Sunday came along, and actually accepted all the rules I gave him,” Aventurine sighed. “I figured he just still didn’t realize what he was getting into, and he’d back out when things got real, but… he never did. I kept pushing and pushing, until it became like a game, trying to find something to scare the prince off. He’d always held himself as such a pious man, I thought it’d be easier than it was.”

“So… I’m a little lost. What does this have to do with the king?”

“Nothing at all. I already told you that,” Aventurine muttered, blinking open his eyes. Sure enough, Phainon looked completely confused. “He did eventually end things. Sunday, I mean. I finally found the line he wasn’t willing to cross… but only after both of us had gotten attached. I fell ill shortly after that, and even though he’d ended it, he decided to take care of me until I got better. Things ended up… We ended up sleeping together again, though along the way it became less about the products I sold and more just… He was kinder to me than anyone else was. He was always gentle, always careful, always worrying about me even when he had no reason to. I… My entire life, I’ve never- Between growing up always running from Katicans, to being sold as a slave, to being Jade’s pawn under the threat of execution… I’ve never had the luxury of safety… but he made me feel safe. For those short hours in the middle of the night, he always made me feel safe.”

“Then… that comment before… about shackles…”

“They used to be rather literal for me. I won’t go into it. Sunday… I told him all of it. I trusted him. He promised me… He promised he’d free me from Jade’s grasp. I… I didn’t have much faith he actually would, but… but I guess he did, in a way. She sure as hell can’t reach me here,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think this was how he’d do it. I came to see him that night, and… Gallagher was already there. Sunday wouldn’t even tell me why, just told me that Gallagher was taking me out of Asdana. He gave me some bullshit about keeping me safe, but when I refused to go, he used tuning to make me agree. After swearing he’d never use it, after acting like he was so different from everyone else who had taken whatever they wanted from me…”

“Um… Sorry… What is… tuning? You said that before too, but…”

“Sunday is a halovian. I know you don’t know what that is either, but… they’re descendants of Aeon Xipe. Harmony. Halovians… have an ability they call tuning. I… I can’t tell you exactly what it does. He told me it wasn’t mind control, but… that’s exactly what it felt like. He made me feel so blank and content that I could just agree to anything that was asked of me. He told me to leave with Gallagher and I no longer had any desire to refuse. By the time I snapped out of it, we were so far from Penacony it felt stupid to try and turn back,” he explained.

He’d been so angry before, but now he just felt numb. Like he’d exhausted all of his emotions earlier, and he couldn’t feel anything anymore. He turned to Phainon, who looked like he was still trying to piece together everything Aventurine had told him. Not that he could blame him. It was a lot, and half of it was probably more confusing than it needed to be just because of Amphoreus’ isolation. Or maybe it was just confusing because Aventurine had kept it so vague. Was there even a point in keeping his past a secret at this point? If that had been what made Sunday change his mind about him, maybe it was better to just… get it out of the way up front. Let people know immediately what garbage he was, so they’d not waste time dirtying their hands with him, and make him feel even worse once washed away.

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Huh? Oh, sure. What is it?”

“Why are you doing this?” Aventurine murmured. “I don’t get it. Aglaea helping me at least made some sense. She gave me a job because she actually needed the help. At least she gets my labor, but the rest of you? You and your sister dragging me to Mydei’s place every night so he can make me dinner, you… bringing it here now because I didn’t eat it. Why? What do you get out of it? Just so you don’t have to deal with cleaning up a corpse? I’m sure that wouldn’t be your job anyway, so…”

“So you are aware that if we weren’t forcing you to eat, you’d be dead. Yet you still insist you’re not hungry?” Phainon huffed, showing his exasperation for the first time.

“I know I probably should be, but I’m not. I haven’t even been lying about that.”

“If you know, then- Never mind that. I don’t have a reason to give you. We’ve just been doing it because that’s what feels right. I… Even if you haven’t given me much detail, it’s clear you haven’t dealt with many good people in your life, but I would like to believe that most people wouldn’t just… watch as someone starves, not if they can do something about it. Whether you feel hungry or not, it’s stranger to me that you’re so stubborn about refusing food even when it’s offered to you. Even now, you’d rather tell me all of this than eat what’s right there.”

“Most people, huh? What an idealistic world you live in. Sounds rather nice,” he bit, rolling his eyes.

“It is, actually, and you’re more than welcome to join me in it whenever you’d like,” Phainon countered.

“Ha… You know… you seem like him sometimes,” Aventurine mused, idly looking him over. “Even your faces are similar.”

“You… think I look like him?”

“Not really. You’re taller and broader than him. He’s strong in a much more subtle way than you or Mydei. You obviously don’t have his wings or halo… and his eyes are gold, not blue. Your hair is the same color, though his is a little darker, and a little longer… but your faces are similar, and you both have this way of speaking that makes people want to listen, want to believe you.”

“Well, I think that’s a compliment,” he chuckled.

“It’s just… an observation,” Aventurine exhaled. “So, are you going to leave now?”

“Hm? Ah. Not until you eat,” Phainon ordered, sitting down next to him on the bed and trying to gently guide him to sit up.

“You said if I told you about him, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Nope. If you recall, I said I would accept that you weren’t hungry. I never said I wouldn’t make you eat anyway.”

“That- What’s the difference? You- Ugh.”

“You already only eat one small meal a day. Are you really going to skip even that? If you're really so upset with that prince… wouldn’t a far better revenge be to live healthily and happily, rather than being miserable? Let him be the only one wallowing in his actions,” Phainon encouraged, reaching over him to grab the plate and rest it on his lap. “If you don’t want to trust me with stories about your past, like you did him, then that’s fine. You don’t have to. At least trust me, and Mydei, to take care of you in this way, feeding you and keeping you safe. Trust Hyacine to care for you if you’re injured, or ill. You can trust Professor Anaxa or Aglaea or Tribbie to teach you whatever you want to learn. You can trust Cyrene and Castorice to always find the best books and entertainment. As for Cipher… Well…”

Aventurine huffed out a laugh as he trailed off. Cipher, he’d learned, had the authority of Trickery. Of course, trustworthiness wasn’t something usually associated with her. He’d only met her a couple of times, and she was certainly an interesting person to be around. Phainon speared some vegetables for him, seeing as he still hadn’t even taken up his fork, and held them up to his mouth.

“You-” he started to say, planning to tell him he didn’t have to physically feed him, but his words were cut off as Phainon took advantage of his open mouth to shove the food inside.

He rolled his eyes, giving in and chewing. Phainon was less forceful with the next forkful, but he continued to feed Aventurine until there were no vegetables left. Once he started to cut apart the chicken breast, Aventurine took the fork from him, given how awkward it was to have Phainon leaning over him, trying to cut what was sitting on his lap.

“I’ve got it,” he muttered. “I still don’t understand how some… nobody like me has the whole council at his beck and call. You want me to rely on you all, but surely you have more important things to do.”

“You’re not nobody,” Phainon said quietly, with a shake of his head. “It’s true that… you really only ended up being introduced to us because you started working at Aglaea’s shop but… it is by your own merit that we’ve started to grow fond of you. I suppose I can’t speak for all of us, but… I know my own thoughts. I know Cyrene enjoys your stories and your jokes. Castorice has told me she thinks you're an incredibly kind person. Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne love going to see you at the shop, and I also know Aglaea is incredibly grateful for your help.”

“I… I don’t…”

“I don’t know Sunday, but…” With a sigh, he pulled a key out of his pocket. “I’m sure he had his own reasons for caring about you, and I don’t think it was just for physical needs. I don’t imagine he would have been crying in his regret if that was all you meant to him.”

The key felt heavier in his hand than when he’d given it away, almost like the weight of Sunday’s message was really carried in it. The weight of his apologies, the weight of his I love you, the weight of all those pretty words and claims that it was all to keep him safe. He rubbed his thumb over the top of it, where the chain was looped around it. If Sunday had made Gallagher take him from his home instead of the castle, he wouldn’t even have this piece of the prince left. Maybe then, without the key, without the image of him on his knees still replaying in his mind, it would’ve been easier to forget and move on. Without the memory of Sunday holding him close the night he was made to leave, without the soft promises whispered in his ear, telling Aventurine a beautiful lie that he would only ever be his…

He clenched the key in his fist, holding it to his chest as he curled around it. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that even with how angry he was, how hurt he felt, ebbing in and out, cycling through rage and utter numbness… he still missed him. He missed the sound of his voice when not wet with tears. He missed the warmth of his embrace, his gentle hands dancing over his skin. He missed his golden eyes, looking at him with what could only be described as love. He missed the feeling of his soft hair tangled between his fingers, his plush lips against his neck, his teeth marking Aventurine as his.

“You know Mydei is in love with you, right?” Aventurine muttered.

“Wh- What? No? Why are you saying that all of a sudden?”

“Just… stopping myself from doing something stupid. It’s pretty obvious. I haven’t been able to figure out if you were actually oblivious or just ignoring it.”

“What do you mean it’s obvious?”

“So, you really didn’t know? I figured someone as blunt as him would just say it outright when he likes someone. Thought that was why you just ignored it when he said only you were his type.”

“What? He said that? When did he say that?” Phainon sputtered, genuinely looking confused.

“Maybe you should ask him . I’m done eating, right?” he said, gesturing toward the now empty plate.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow, Aventurine.”

“Yeah… I guess you will…”