Chapter Text
Dearest Gentle Reader,
The ton is alive today with the news of a new, royal arrival. A prince, young, handsome, single and, if the rumour mill is to be believed, in search of a partner. Perhaps it is simply wishful thinking, but perhaps some lucky omega will find themselves in esteemed company indeed at Friday’s ball.
The most likely candidate seems obvious. Who has spent the past week courting favour, gaining a reputation by his mild elegance and outshining every other debutant? The Beyond pack hold all the cards in trying to pair Jeff off with a suitable alpha, but none of the many hopefuls have broken through to win any clear favour. Perhaps he is holding out for a fairytale match?
“Would you leave it?” Jeff huffed, tossing Rosewood’s pamphlet onto the sofa beside him and scowling at North.
”But of course, your highness.” North said, offering a curtsey.
“That’s enough, thank you.” Chris said, and North conceded, sitting down with a poorly concealed smile.
”Whoever this Rosewood character is, she’s a pain.” Jeff huffed. “What if people think I’m spreading rumours about myself to secure a match?”
”Don’t worry about others.” Chris said. “Let them think whatever they like. You, concentrate on getting ready for the modiste.”
*
“So.” Sonic turned to Jeff across the gap between them, where they were both stood on platforms being measured. “What did you think of this morning’s Rosewood?”
”I think,” Jeff said, “she can say whatever she likes about me.”
”You really don’t care?” Sonic asked, turning to face Jeff properly as the seamstress stepped away.
”I don’t like it, if I’m honest. But then, if someone thinks more or less of me because of some anonymous writer, then maybe their opinion was not worth much to begin with.”
”I admire you.” Sonic said. “I’m not sure I could be so blasé if it was me her attention was focused on.”
”I have to concentrate on my own business.” Jeff said plainly. “If I’m honest, I want this season to be over as quickly as possible.”
”What, really?” Sonic stepped down at the seamstress’s instruction, and his surprise was written across his face.
”Yes, really. I want to find someone to marry and get on with it. The sooner I’m engaged and left alone, the better.”
”Well, perhaps this prince is your ticket. Don’t you think?”
”Depends. How remote is his castle?”
”Not far enough that I won’t visit you all the time.”
Jeff scoffed. He stepped down, allowing his shoulders to be measured for a new jacket. “If you’re so fond of the idea, why don’t you just marry the prince yourself?” Jeff asked. Sonic scoffed, adjusting his hair in a looking glass installed on the wall.
”It’s only polite to let you have first choice. After all, you are Lady Rosewood’s favourite.”
”Don’t start.” Jeff huffed as a section of thick fabric was draped over his shoulders.
They made their way down the street, with Pete walking a few steps behind them.
”You know, maybe you could pretend to be courting someone. Make it seem like you’re off the market, even if you aren’t.” Sonic suggested.
“Surely that would only deter suitors, and slow down my chances of marriage?”
”Yes, temporarily. That would give you a chance to find who you’re really interested in, and then when you break off your fake courtship, you can pursue them freely.”
”That’s a ridiculous idea. Besides, who would even agree to feign a courtship with me?”
”Hmm. I could probably convince Kim to do it.”
”Please don’t.” Jeff huffed.
”Suit yourself. I think it’s a stroke of genius.” Sonic shrugged.
*
“And when, pray tell, will you think about remarrying?” Fion, the matriarch alpha of the Gable pack, asked over the rim of her glass. She smiled sweetly, but Alan felt the sharpness in her tone.
”The thought had not occurred to me.” He said, returning as civil a smile as he could manage.
”Not in ten years?” Asked Fion.
Alan longed to tell her to mind her own business, but he simply shook his head. In ten years of widowhood, Alan had managed to play the role of both alpha and omega for his pack, his three charges that he guarded with his life and provided for in every possible way. The insinuation that his efforts were not enough was not welcome.
”We should find you a suitable partner.” Sky said, another pack alpha in coattails who was nursing his own glass of whiskey. Alan avoided these meetings as much as possible, the stale conversation and the thinly veiled judgement, but he couldn’t be seen to completely exclude himself from the company of other pack alphas. So, he put in an appearance a few times at month at the alpha’s club, and wrung himself for all the civility he could manage.
”What an excellent idea!“ Fion declared, placing down her glass and clasping her hands together. “Who might make a suitable match for our Alan, then?”
“Any of the debutants catch your eye, Alan?” Asked Gen, a woman with blonde hair tied high on her head in an elaborate fashion.
”Wouldn’t they all be too young?” Alan remarked.
”Not at all. They’re out in society, aren’t they? And some of them are already twenty.”
”Perhaps my Viola?” Fion suggested. Alan called to mind Fion’s giddy daughter, who didn’t have two sensible thoughts to rub together.
”Or my Ghost.” Gen offered.
”I think you should all look elsewhere for potential suitors.” Alan said with a wry smile. “I fear I would not be a good match for any of your children.”
”Well, we must find you someone.”
”You really don’t have to.”
”Now, now. I declare it our mission. We will have you married before the season is out!” Sky declared, raising a glass. Everyone raised theirs, too, except Alan.
*
”They will have forgotten all about it in a week.” Babe laughed. “They’re bored, they want some excuse for entertainment, they aren’t serious.”
”What if they are? How am I going to deter them?”
“I think the only way they will ever be deterred from meddling in your affairs is if you actually do marry.” Babe huffed.
Alan had made his excuses early, and gone to see Babe at his bachelor apartments. He didn’t come by here often, as Babe visited the Hunter house several days of the week for breakfast or dinner and they saw plenty of him in town. Charlie was with his own pack, and Alan had found Babe in sore need of company and willing to lend an ear to Alan’s frustration.
Alan scoffed. “Anything to get them off my back. Imagine how they’ll be at the ball on Friday.”
”I dread to think.” Babe leaned back in his own chair. His drawing room was small but comfortable, and there was a sense of homeliness that was usually absent from an alpha’s bachelor apartment. That was likely due to Charlie. Left to his own devices, Babe wouldn’t be able to identify a throw cushion, let alone adorn his entire home with them. They were an odd pair, but Charlie brought out the best in Babe. And sometimes the worst, too.
Alan sort of envied his heir. He had managed to accomplish what Alan never had, finding someone he truly loved and belonged with, and whatever anyone said, that was all that mattered. Alan had never known that kind of companionship, and he probably never would. But if Babe, Sonic and Kim could secure their own happiness, Alan would be perfectly happy.
“If you did remarry, it might not be the worst thing.” Babe said. He raised his whiskey glass to his lips, but didn’t take a sip. “You know, eventually Sonic’s going to get married. Kim too. And then what will you do?”
”Buy a house out in the country. Maybe finally get some peace. I don’t want to marry again.”
“That’s too much peace.” Babe said. Alan scoffed, but when he met Babe’s eye he saw that he was perfectly serious. “Alan, aren’t you lonely?”
Alan bristled. Wasn’t it enough that he had a host of simpering alphas prying into his business, that now Babe felt the need to join in? No, he was not lonely. And even if he was, it was his private affair.
”I do not feel lonely.” Alan said, definitively, and Babe opened his palm in surrender and raised the other hand to his mouth to take a drink. He knew when he was beat, when it came to Alan. They drank in silence.
*
“What if we got married?” Alan’s voice was soft, so that nobody could overhear him. Ash furrowed her brows in confusion.
”Us? Marry?”
”That solves all our problems. Doesn’t it?”
”Alan, you’re like a brother to me.”
”And you’re like a sister to me, Ash. But if we got married, you wouldn’t have to contend with idiots like him.”
Ash looked over at the idiot in question, a man with such a smug, self-satisfied impression that it bordered on sinister. The ballroom was crowded with young ladies, but this man was staring down at her like she was the only person in the room, like a predator fixated on its prey.
“And, you’re sure? You won’t regret it when you find someone you really love?”
”Ash, you are someone I truly love. And I’m not leaving you to the wolves.”
*
“It’s not a bad idea!” Sonic exclaimed. “You’re being very negative about my brilliant plan, Kim.”
”It’s a terrible, ridiculous idea, and you are terrible and ridiculous.” Kim said, snatching a rasher of bacon from Sonic’s plate and dodging the replying slap to his knuckles.
”Alan, tell him it’s a good idea.” Sonic huffed.
”It’s a very bad idea, Sonic.” Alan replied. “Would you ever leave well enough alone?”
”I’ve never done that before. Why would I start now?” Sonic scoffed.
”Maybe you could use Sonic’s idea, Alan.” Babe said with a wry grin. “Pretend to court someone so that you’re left alone by those nosy pack alphas.”
”You, be quiet.” Alan glowered, which didn’t dull Babe’s amusement at all.
After a moment’s quiet, Sonic clapped his hands together and startled everyone present. “That’s it! Alan, you pretend to court Jeff. Then, everyone will leave you both alone. And once he decides who he actually wants to marry, you break it off, no issue.”
Alan looked at Sonic like he had gone mad. But Babe decided to stoke the fire.
”It’s not a terrible idea, you know.”
”Yes, it is. It’s an awful idea, and I’m ashamed to have raised such a parade of fools.”
”Hey, what about me?” Kim said.
”Remains to be seen.” Alan muttered, and took a sip of his tea.
*
“Are you feeling quite well?” Jeff asked.
“Yes, I am.” Sonic scoffed and batted his hand away. “Why does everyone keep rejecting my brilliant ideas?”
“I’m not going to pretend to date your pack alpha, Sonic.”
“Why not?”
“So, so very many reasons.”
They were walking through the gardens, admiring the evergreen tree which stretched above them. It was a cold day, and they were both wrapped in thick stoles with warm gloves. They were the only ones, besides Pete as their chaperone, who had wanted to venture out in this weather, and the park was peaceful and still.
“It solves both your problems.” Sonic explained. “You can get some space from potential suitors, and buy some time to decide who you want to marry. Alan can get those annoying, nosy pack alphas to leave him alone.”
“Nobody will show any interest in me if they think I’m already taken.” Jeff reasoned.
“On the contrary,” Sonic said, flourishing a gloved finger in the air to emphasis his own cleverness, “Alphas always want what they can’t have. If they think you might be off the market soon, suitors will act quickly to try and change your mind.”
Jeff sighed. “I suppose I can see your logic. But Alan isn’t going to be interested in pretending to court some random omega.”
“I can convince him. I’m very persuasive, don’t you know?” Sonic batted his eyelashes, and Jeff laughed. He bit back a remark that just because North was wrapped around his little finger, didn’t mean Sonic was always equally persuasive to everyone. They kept walking.
Tomorrow was the ball, hosted by the Gable pack. Jeff’s outfit was ready and waiting, returned from the modiste yesterday morning, and the Beyond house was already abuzz with excitement. The arrival of a prince was just the thing the ton needed to liven up the season, and who he might choose to converse with, or even whether he might ask anyone to dance, seemed to absorb every other possible topic of conversation.
Jeff would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. It wasn’t every day that an eligible prince came to town. Maybe he would prove to be a good match. Jeff wondered whether he would be suited to the life and duties of a prince consort. He had met almost every alpha in the entire ton by now, and none of them stood out to him. Maybe looking beyond the confines of the society he knew might lead him down the right path.
*
“Good evening.” Alan said, startling Jeff from his thoughts. Jeff stopped fidgeting with the seam of his glove and turned to face Alan.
“Good evening. Are you well?”
“Only looking for respite.” Alan gestured to the garden terrace around them, lined with climbing roses whose scent filled the air.
“Sonic tells me you are being set upon by matchmakers.”
“You seem to have met a similar fate.” Alan smiled, glancing over his shoulder to see the bustling crowds. At least half a dozen of them would be searching high and low to find Jeff and ask him to be their dance partner.
“Maybe I should take Sonic’s advice and find someone who will pretend to court me, so that I can be left alone.” Jeff said. He had followed Alan’s line of sight to the window, where the assembly could be seen in full swing.
“You know, he suggested the same thing to me. He can be ridiculous sometimes.”
“Well, maybe it’s not such a terrible idea. It might save us both from another evening like this.” Jeff said, with a laugh.
“Maybe it would.” Alan smiled, as though the idea was faintly ridiculous.
Their eyes met, and for a very real moment, they both considered the idea.
”If it was only a ruse…”
“And if it meant people left us alone…”
“No, that would be ridiculous.” Alan said, shaking his head.
”Absolutely.” Jeff agreed.
”Ah, Alan, there you are.” Gen appeared, her hair stacked high on her head like it was challenging gravity itself to bring it down. Her daughter, Ghost, was being dragged by her gloved wrist out into the night air. “I was wondering whether you had a partner for the next set.”
”I’m afraid he does.” Jeff said. He shot Alan a look, and Alan understood his meaning immediately. Play along if you want to live.
”Yes, I’m afraid so. Perhaps another evening.”
Gen nodded her acknowledgement, with a tight smile. Ghost looked faintly relieved behind her, and she offered a cordial curtsey as she followed her mother in search of another victim.
”You realise this means we actually have to dance together now.”
”Oh, would you rather dance with Ghost?” Jeff said, with an amused smile.
”Let’s make our way to the floor.” Alan replied, offering his arm.
*
Sonic didn’t see them at first, since he was dancing at the other end of the hall. But when he turned under his partner’s arm, and caught Jeff’s eye as he made the same movement in the opposite direction, he gasped.
”Are you alright?” John asked.
”Yes, thank you.” Sonic brushed him off, and as he turned away from his partner his eyes scanned the assembly, desperately trying to catch North’s eye.
But North was deep in conversation with Mercutio, and Sonic could not catch his attention. He returned to the dance, but at the next opportunity he threw another look in North’s direction, and he was gone.
Sonic tried to ignore the twist in his chest and to keep smiling, focusing on the steps his feet were making.
He did cast another glance over at Alan and Jeff, who were not talking, but who moved in easy tandem. Sonic’s plans were always excellent, and everybody should listen to him all of the time.
A commotion came from the other end of the hall. A ripple of whispers and turned heads that made the dancers stutter. From the door closest to Sonic, he saw the crowd part and a resplendent figure become visible.
His coat was bright white and sky blue, with golden epaulettes and buttons that shone like the sun. His face was handsome, and although he had a noble bearing his expression was pleasant and personable.
“The prince.” The whisper spread through the crowd, catching like a flame until the whole assembly was alight with the news.
*
“He is certainly handsome.”
“What a pity he only arrived in time for the final set!”
“And that he danced only with Jeff. Really, I don’t know what anyone sees in him.”
“Lady Rosewood certainly thinks highly of him, but I don’t see that is any more remarkable than any one of us.”
“Perhaps Lady Rosewood is Jeff himself. There are madder things people have done in pursuit of a good match.”
“If it secured me a prince, I would certainly start my own column!”
*
“What is your name?” Jeff asked. “Or should I call you ‘your highness’?”
“Dean.” The prince replied warmly. “Titles are for official business, not pleasant conversations.”
“You dance well.”
“I have an excellent partner.” Dean smiled. “I am glad we were introduced. Your pack alpha is a well renowned man of business.”
“I confess, business is not my forte.”
“Then what interests you?”
Jeff hummed thoughtfully as he turned past his opposite number through the centre of the set, and weaved his way back to Dean.
“Good company.” Jeff replied at last.
“Well, I hope I can suffice.”
*
“Do you really think he could marry a prince?”
“Did you see the way they danced?”
“But wasn’t he also dancing with Alan?”
“That old widower?”
“I don’t know, I think he’s sort of handsome.”
“Do you think Jeff would marry Alan?”
“Not if he could have a prince.”
*
“How is your plan to marry coming along?”
“Well enough. And your plan never to marry?”
“I have succeeded so far. What did you think of your dance with the prince last night? He seemed to like you.”
“Hmm.” Jeff huffed.
“Are you that dismissive of a prince’s attentions?” Alan asked with amusement.
“I simply don’t want to discuss it in public. Everybody else already is.” Jeff said.
He and Alan had agreed to meet for tea two days after the ball, to maintain their illusion of a courtship. It had been a success so far, Alan being commended at the alpha’s club for entering a romantic contest with a prince, and Jeff being more or less left alone now that two suitors were rumoured to be seriously after him. Not, of course, that Jeff considered a single dance and conversation a courtship, but the rumour mill had ground out a much more impressive version of events which had Jeff on the cusp of an engagement.
The callers had eased, his mornings had become relaxed and pleasant again, and all it took was a few public hours of Alan’s company now and again. It was an ideal scenario.
Whether Chris and Pete agreed was less certain. They sat a table over, in their own conversation while they chaperoned Jeff, not listening but flitting cautious eyes up to watch the pair every now and again. Jeff had explained to them, with some trepidation, the plan he and Alan had adopted, and despite their reservations they had accepted his logic and agreed to accompany him.
”We should look as though we are really conversing.” Jeff suggested.
”Yes, we should. What subject might be most convincing to onlookers?” Alan asked, and Jeff smiled wryly.
”I hear you are fond of riding.” Jeff offered.
”I am. My estate in the country is mostly paddocks these days. I have accidentally given the habit to Babe. He’s even fonder than I am of horses, and he bought his own stable where he breeds fine racing stock.” Alan smiled. “Do you ride?”
”Not much.” Jeff shrugged. “But I like horses. They’re sweet creatures. Do you have a favourite horse?”
Alan seemed lost in memory for a moment as he considered the question. “I do, yes. She’s a little too old for riding these days, but in her day there wasn’t a finer mare. Her name is Blaze.”
”What makes you so fond of her?”
”Well, she’s uncommonly clever. And quick as lightning. She belonged to… an old friend of mine.” Alan brought himself out of reminiscing, and reached for his teacup.
”What horse do you ride now?” Jeff asked.
”Minnie. He’s a grey gelding, very good-natured but unstoppable once he picks up speed. Perhaps I’ll introduce you sometime.”
”Introduce us?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow. “Does he prefer a quadrille, or a waltz?”
Alan muffled a laugh with the back of his hand, trying not to spit out his tea. Jeff smiled warmly, and Alan tried not to think about how endearing it was when Jeff’s eyes shone with amusement like that.
“He’s actually fond of a tarantella.” Alan said, and then it was Jeff’s turn to laugh.
“They’re very convincing, aren’t they?” Pete muttered, and Chris hummed agreement. Neither of them said anything more, but whenever they glanced over at Alan and Jeff’s table, the impression was of the happiest couple in the ton.
*
“Nobody really marries for love, I don’t think.” Ash said as she pulled pins out of her hair. “Not that I’ve ever seen.”
“Really? Nobody?”
“It’s an alliance. You might be civil, even affectionate with your spouse, but love? Love rarely enters into it.”
“We are a bad example.” Alan said, tugging at his cufflinks.
“I don’t know. I could have done worse in a husband.” Ash shrugged. Alan laughed.
“You’re sure you don’t want to change your mind? Run away and marry Tony?”
Ash laughed, her harsh, barking laugh that was reserved only for private company.
Once her hair was released from its elaborate style, she tied it up loosely with a ribbon and went behind the painted divider to change out of her wedding dress. While she did so, Alan changed into his nightclothes.
“When we’re back home, which bedroom did you want to take?” He asked.
“The south-facing one. I like the sunlight.”
“That works for me. I like the east room.”
“It’s much smaller.”
“But it’s nicer. Better furnishings.”
“Suit yourself.”
Ash emerged in a dressing gown. She was as beautiful in her nightclothes, barefaced and with her hair hanging loose, as she had been in her white silk gown at the wedding breakfast.
“I wish you could have married for love.” Alan said, as they climbed into the far sides of their shared marital bed.
“I did, in a way.” Ash smiled, her face silhouetted in candlelight.
Alan smiled. He adored her. He would have wanted to see her married to someone who deserved her, who desired her and was not just seeking to protect her. But they would be happy together, all things considered, happier than maybe many other married couples in the ton. And they could adopt their own pack, start a family that would be happy and safe. Maybe those children could one day marry for love, even though neither of them had been able to.
“Goodnight.” Ash said.
“Sleep well.” Alan replied. He heard the sound of her blowing out the candle, and the room was plunged into quiet, companionable darkness. They were both asleep within minutes.
*
“Good morning.” Jeff stood as Alan entered, an easy smile exchanged between them. Their faux-courtship had expanded to Alan calling two mornings a week, and they often lost track of time over tea. Pete was sitting across the room from them, pretending not to listen in on their conversation.
Jeff found that he genuinely looked forward to their meetings. Alan was pleasant company, and they could swap stories about the ton’s gossip, the prince or the riding conditions. Jeff had not spoken to the prince since they danced, and yet the ton was alight with rumours about their alleged courtship. Another ball was merely days away.
“How many dances do you think we have to share to prevent suspicion?” Jeff asked.
“As many as you don’t want to dance with other people.”
“Well, I hope you have freed up your entire evening, then.” Jeff said. “Unless, of course, I am invited for an equine tarantella.”
Alan had a mouthful of tea, which he almost coughed up in his attempt not to laugh. A few drops landed on his cravat, and he cleared his throat and attempted to dab them away with a napkin.
“I beg your pardon.” Alan said. Pete had observed this incident, and now rose from his chair.
“Please, take a clean cravat from my wardrobe.” Pete said. “We will launder that one for you.”
“You’re too kind.”
Alan accepted Pete’s offer, disappearing within the house to replace the stained cravat. Of course, he could not remove it in Jeff’s presence, not without exposing his own scent gland, but he also could not continue wearing it in its ruined condition. Alan felt grateful nobody else had seen his clumsiness. He was too much at ease in Jeff’s company, that was certain.
Once he had a clean cravat in place, he returned to the table and to where Jeff was waiting, staring out of the window. Alan could see why he was thought to be so charming. Jeff was handsome, obviously, and although he made no attempts to do so he commanded attention easily. Many omegas would envy him. Many alphas would want him.
Alan’s jaw tensed at that thought. Perhaps he was getting too attached to Jeff, too protective of him. The marriage mart, and society at large, could be truly ruthless. Alan knew all too well how often omegas were left at the mercy of people who did not want the best for them, how careful and strategic they had to be. How much they had to rely on others for support.
He shook the thoughts from his head, clearing his throat and resuming his seat as though nothing had happened. Pete remained buried in a broadsheet on the other side of the room.
*
Whenever a pack played host for a ball, all the very best features of their home would be played up. Galleries would be opened for perusal, or ballrooms decorated within an inch of their lives. Every surface would glimmer with candlelight, every room glowing from within as if tempting visitors to come inside and revel in beauty. The people, too, looked radiant, especially those young people bursting with excitement to dance and socialise.
“Do you not want to mingle?” Chris asked, seeing that Jeff still clung to his side.
“I told Alan I would wait for him near the entrance.” Jeff explained, looking around.
“Ah. Well, then.” Chris said, raising an eyebrow.
“I know you think what we’re doing is not sensible.” Jeff said, pressing Chris’s arm. “But we have an understanding.”
“I think you and Alan are… well-suited to one another, in temperament.” Chris said mildly, taking a sip of champagne and averting his gaze towards the assembly.
“Well, that is why our arrangement has been successful.” Jeff replied. “We get along well.”
Chris said nothing, but tapped Jeff’s arm as the prince made his way through the crowd and towards them.
“Your highness.” Chris said, offering a bow of his head. Jeff followed suit.
“I hope you’re both having a pleasant evening.”
“We are, thank you.” Chris said, stepping back as Dean’s attention shifted to Jeff.
“Would you honour me with another dance?” He asked.
“I would be delighted.”
As they took the floor, Jeff felt eyes boring into him from every angle. The rumours would be given fresh life, then.
“How have you been?” The prince- Dean, Jeff corrected himself- asked.
“Well, thank you. Are you enjoying your stay in town?”
“I certainly am.” Dean smiled. “Society seems to be alive with stories, and gossip. It is very entertaining.”
Jeff’s feet faltered. “I hope you know, I have no part in any of those rumours.”
“Forgive me, I did not mean to imply that you did. I know how people like to talk.” Dean’s hand brushed against Jeff’s glove. “Only, I must ask whether a certain rumour is true.”
“Your highness?”
“Is it true you are being courted?”
Jeff paused for a moment. No, technically it was not true. And yet, he couldn’t quite say that, not in so many words.
“I don’t know.” Jeff said, turning to face Dean. “Am I?”
Dean smiled. “Perhaps.”
*
“The prince danced with him again.”
“Lady Rosewood says he’s being courted by them both.”
“Don’t believe it. I don’t think he’s actually interested in the prince.”
“Maybe he’s just playing coy.”
“Should I try playing coy?”
*
“So, how was dancing with royalty?” Sonic asked, draping himself across Jeff’s shoulders and ignoring his attempts to shrug Sonic off.
“You danced with him as well.” Jeff said.
“Yes, but only to vet him. To check he’s good enough for you.”
“And what did you find?” Jeff asked.
“Hmmm. He passes muster.”
“Sonic! There you are.” North burst into the room. “Are you ready to leave?”
“I’m coming!” Sonic called, although he didn’t remove his hands from Jeff’s shoulders yet.
“By the time I return, I expect you to be betrothed.”
With a final ruffle of Jeff’s hair, he disappeared.
Jeff sighed. His efforts with the prince had come to nothing so far, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed by that. He wandered through the house, searching for something interesting to do, and coming up empty. Charlie was with Babe, Pete was out on business, North was out with Sonic and Chris would be chaperoning them. Kenta might be anywhere, holed up in his room or off doing goodness knows what. Jeff hardly saw him.
The main corridors were vacant, the rooms silent. The door to Pete and Chris’s bedroom was slightly open, and Jeff peered in. Their magnificent nest rose up from the mattress. In a pile of dirty laundry which a servant had clearly left, Jeff could see a flash of white fabric. With a small stain on it.
Jeff pinched it between his fingers and pulled it out, seeing the fabric unravel. It was starched, but still soft enough that it bent under the weight of his fingers.
And when Jeff lifted it to his nose, his heart rate spiked.
Before he could reason with himself, Jeff took the cravat and swept back into his own bedroom across the hall. He turned the key in his door, feeling a powerful blush run up his cheeks, and buried his face in the material.
The scent was powerful, strong and deep, pinewood and grass. Each fibre of this had been right against Alan’s skin, absorbing his pheromones directly from his scent gland, distilling his scent.
Jeff wanted more. He wanted to be surrounded by this scent, marked by it, to belong to it. This was the scent of safety, of desire that he had not been able to name. Alan’s voice, his presence, his scent were addictive. Without even realising it, Jeff had gotten too close and allowed himself to slip, to succumb to a temptation that threatened to overwhelm him.
Jeff’s hands worked open the buttons on his trousers until he could shuck them off. He was wet, and he could feel it, heat pooling in his abdomen and his entire body craving contact.
He slipped a single finger in, and shuddered in pleasure, using the other hand to press the cravat over his nose and mouth. It wasn’t long before he was ready for another finger, and another, and he let his head fall back against the door as he imagined his fingers were Alan inside of him.
He needed more. His face was hot, his breath ragged, only an intense effort keeping him from moaning aloud. From moaning Alan’s name.
He wanted Alan. Wanted to feel Alan’s hands on him, not polite and proper, or through gloves, but on him, hot and real, taking Jeff whichever way he wanted.
The cravat fell into Jeff’s lap as he took his other hand to pump himself to completion. It only took a few strokes, aided by coating his fingers in his own slick, before he was coming apart completely, his body stuttering with pleasure, his thoughts filled with Alan.
As his breathing began to slow, and he saw the white fabric sitting in his lap, Jeff felt a pang of horror at himself. What kind of conduct was this?
Jeff had made a terrible mistake. But as he lifted the fabric to his face again to absorb more of Alan’s scent, he knew he was doomed.
*
Jeff had resolved not to think about Alan anymore. Not to allow these feelings to grow any further. He had tucked the cravat in the back of a drawer and tried desperately to ignore it.
Alan would not want to marry him. He wasn’t interested in marriage, he had made that very clear. And he certainly wouldn’t be interested in Jeff. Why would he? Some random omega almost half his age, who he was indulging with his time, a means to an end. And Jeff was foolish enough to have actually developed feelings for him.
He wandered around the gallery, having become separated from his pack, looking at each painting as he went past. It was a grand, beautiful house, and under normal circumstances Jeff would have enjoyed touring this collection, but today he only felt a pit of dread in his stomach and a desire to avoid company.
Especially certain company. From the other end of the hall, he saw the prince making conversation, smiling warmly, and he looked around quickly for a place to hide. He darted into a study with its door ajar.
He caught his breath. The room was dark and quiet, and most importantly empty of other people. Jeff should have feigned illness in order to stay at home. Although perhaps that would have made him actually unwell, since he seemed incapable of feigning anything. Jeff wandered deeper into the study, looking at the back wall beyond the large desk for something to distract his attention.
Shiny, polished footsteps approached, and a figure peered around the door.
“There you are.” Dean’s voice, genteel and pleasant as ever, broke the silence of Jeff’s little haven. He pushed the door open slightly, allowing a little more light into the room and illuminating the polished wood and leatherbound tomes.
“I am leaving town tomorrow.” Dean said. “I hoped to see you, so that I could bid you goodbye. And to break off our courtship.”
“Break it off?” Jeff asked, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.
“I hope you can understand.” Dean said apologetically. “It is not any fault of yours, in fact I would have asked you to marry me already, if I did not feel I would be getting in the way.”
“I’m afraid I do not understand your meaning.”
“You already have an alliance which is far more suitable, of course. I would never stand in your way when you love somebody else.” Dean smiled easily, and he even quirked an eyebrow as though he was privy to some secret not even Jeff knew.
“Your highness, you are mistaken. I do not have feelings for anybody else.”
“Then, would you marry me?” Dean asked, with a shrug.
Jeff’s stomach dropped. No, he wouldn’t. It wasn’t a real proposal, it was merely a question, yet it had flooded him with dread. No, he did not want to marry this prince. Because he was right. Jeff loved somebody else.
“I would not be able to accept your proposal, your highness.” Jeff said, finally.
“I did not think so.” Dean replied. His face showed no sign of injury or grief, for which Jeff was grateful. “Please, do not think I take it as a slight against me. Perhaps we may see each other again when I return to town.”
Jeff could not speak, only nod and offer a bow when Dean left the room. The silence of the study felt suffocating, the chatter from rooms beyond felt like a thousand miles away. Jeff felt as though all the air had been knocked out of his lungs.
He was such a fool.
Before he knew what he was doing, Jeff left the study and slipped out into the corridor beyond. He found a door leading out into the gardens, and he walked out under the overcast sky.
He would have to tell Alan that he couldn’t continue the arrangement. He would have to choose someone, anyone who would still marry him, find some excuse not to have to be near Alan anymore. Confessing the truth was too terrible and embarrassing a fate to bear. More embarrassing than walking before the entire ton for his debut, or dancing with a prince while everybody stared and whispered. Those were judgements of his character, made from the outside. But his feelings for Alan were so much deeper, so much more real.
“Jeff.”
Alan’s voice startled him from his thoughts, and Jeff turned to see him standing behind him, keeping a respectful distance. His face was lined with concern and it made Jeff’s chest ache.
“Alan.” Jeff bowed his head, looking away as long as he could.
“Why are you out here? It could rain at any moment.”
“I needed some fresh air.” Jeff said honestly. His breath was short in his chest.
“You do not seem well. Should I-“
“No.” Jeff said, too sharply. “I am perfectly fine. I am simply… there are too many people indoors.”
“Too many people?”
“Yes. You should go back inside.”
“Do you not want me to stay with you?”
“No.”
It may have been Jeff’s imagination, but Alan looked slightly wounded. He didn’t mean to offend him, but he could not trust himself to be near Alan.
“I can’t leave you out here.” Alan said, firmly.
“Well, you can’t be alone with me here either.” Jeff replied.
A long silence ensued. An unreadable expression crossed over Alan’s face, before settling into a neutral smile.
“You have never objected to my company before.” He said.
“I am unchaperoned.” Jeff observed.
“Am I being untoward?” Alan asked, gesturing at the space between them. “Would anyone suspect us of anything?”
“That is not the point.” Jeff said.
“Then what is?”
“That I am unmarried.”
“Then why don’t you go back inside and marry your prince?”
Alan said, with a huff of hollow laughter.
“Because I do not feel anything for him.” Jeff said.
Alan felt the intensity of Jeff’s gaze, the sensation of being pierced straight through the heart that he couldn’t account for. “Because he is perfectly pleasant, and kind, and good company. But I feel nothing when I see his face or hear his voice, and I do not miss his presence when I am alone, or in a crowd of people, or when I am right beside him.”
Alan couldn’t speak. His mouth was dry, his heart thudding dully in his chest like it was trying and failing to spur him into action. He tore his gaze away from Jeff, fixing his eye on the floor. The sky crackled and rain began to fall, a slow drizzle quickly becoming a downpour.
“This was a mistake.” Alan said flatly. His voice was empty of conviction, empty of feeling. He would not, could not look up, could not see Jeff or his resolve would crumble. He couldn’t do this.
“Yes. It was.” Jeff agreed. Alan felt Jeff’s eyes on him even as he looked away. “But it is done now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I have fallen in love with you, and I know you will never feel the same way for me, and yet I have to ask you to show me some mercy and consider me.”
“Jeff, I-“
“Because if you do not offer to marry me,” Jeff said with finality, “I will never marry anyone.”