Archive of Our Own ^beta

Aiden was standing in the middle of a wood.

This was a bit strange, because he’d gone to sleep in his bed in the castle, and he didn’t remember coming out here. Also, he was still wearing his nightclothes. But everything around him felt clear and vivid – the grass under his (bare) feet, the wind through his hair… The only other odd thing was that he didn’t feel cold at all, even though it had been a chill night.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement among the trees and turned quickly. “Who’s there?” he called.

A boy emerged from the trees, about his age, slightly taller and with dark skin. He was also dressed in nightclothes, and holding a stuffed teddy bear. “Hello,” he said, with a reassuring smile. “Who are you? I’m Harvard.”

Aiden wondered if Harvard’s family must be from far away, if they didn’t know how to recognise him, Crown Prince Aiden. Then again, where was this? Were they near the castle grounds? (He wasn’t allowed to go beyond the castle grounds on his own. Definitely not without at least two bodyguards). The wood didn’t seem familiar.

“I’m Joshua,” he said, which was his middle name, but he didn’t know what this strange boy might know about him and he decided he’d like to keep it that way. “Where are we, do you know?”

Harvard shook his head. “I thought I was asleep in bed, then I was here,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t think this is near my house.”

So this other boy didn’t know where they were either. Aiden thought. This could be an elaborate plot to kidnap him, but he didn’t see any kidnappers, or anyone else here besides Harvard. And he’d never been able to make a friend just on his own, before. His mind suddenly flooded with excited possibilities.

“Do you want to play tag?” he asked.

Harvard frowned at him. “Shouldn’t we try to find out what’s happening? Or find our parents?”

What Harvard was saying made sense for a boy like him, but for once Aiden’s parents (or the castle guards, or his nurse, or anyone) weren’t around, and he was desperate to make the most of it. “Maybe we’ll find out as we go.” He mimicked the way he’d seen commoner children playing out of the windows of his carriage, and reached out to brush Harvard’s arm. He felt solid. “Tag. You’re it!”

A grin grew on Harvard’s face as the thrill of a new friend and the game took over, and he chased after Aiden. Aiden shrieked and ran, and at one point tumbled to the ground and got leaves in his hair, and generally did a lot of things not befitting of an heir to the throne. It was glorious. He never wanted it to end.

He couldn’t say what it was that gave him the sense their time was up. But the sun cresting over the horizon might have played a part. “Harvard, I think I’m… going. I think I’m about to be home again,” he told his friend urgently.

Harvard nodded. He’d sensed it too. “It’s okay. We’ll see each other again,” he said.

Aiden was suddenly pierced by a stab of panic. “But how will I find you? I don’t even know where you live. What if we never come back here?”

Harvard gave the questions some careful thought, and then solemnly handed Aiden his teddy bear. “Here. Now you’ll have something of mine to keep.”

It didn’t answer his questions, but Aiden clutched the bear close to his chest. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Harvard smiled at him. “Bye! I had fun!”

“I did too,” Aiden said, but he found himself saying the words aloud to the dark of his bedroom. He was back in his own bed in the castle, like he’d never left.

The only thing that had changed was the worn, stuffed teddy bear clutched in his arms.

If that had been the only time Aiden had had the strange dream, he was sure he would have forgotten about it before long, bear or no bear. But Aiden did see Harvard again, not a few months later. He’d fallen asleep on his bed, an accidental nap, and suddenly he was in an open, sunny field, looking at a familiar figure in the distance. They’d played tag again and chased butterflies, and then lain down to find shapes in the clouds, before Aiden was suddenly and rudely awoken by his nurse discovering him.

He hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye, but luckily he dreamed about Harvard again just a few weeks later. That was how it went for a few years: the dreams were sporadic and unpredictable, coming weeks or months apart, and each time, he and Harvard cheerfully picked up where they left off.

They talked about their waking lives sometimes, although Aiden was vague about the details of his. He left Harvard with the impression that he was the son of a nobleman, with a comfortable but sheltered life. He learned that Harvard came from another kingdom, a fairly distant one he’d only heard of in passing, and that he had a small but devoted family. He had first one, then two younger siblings that he took care of day-to-day while his parents worked on the farm, and he confessed to Aiden that he enjoyed an escape from his responsibilities in their shared dreams.

When Aiden got a bit older and realised what a wealth of knowledge was contained within the castle library, he went surreptitiously looking for books on strange dreams or visions. But what books he could find were highly dubious and talked about magic, which everyone knew wasn’t real.

As time went by, the dreams began to occur further apart. Close to a year, and then a few years, passed without dreams of his friend from another kingdom. By then, Aiden had been awarded more freedom (and discovered how to take much, much more for himself without being caught) and stumbled on the delights of certain… other pursuits not considered fitting of a crown prince, so he didn’t think of Harvard as often. But truthfully, he did miss his friend.

One night not long after Aiden’s eighteenth birthday, he dreamed of Harvard for the first time in nearly four years. He recognised the dream almost immediately for what it was; his dreams about Harvard had a different quality to them, more vivid and lucid. Time seemed to pass normally, and locations stayed the same, unlike the disjointed events of his other dreams.

Aiden found himself standing in a wood, and recognised it as the same one from his very first dream. Anticipation and nervousness thrilled in his stomach: anticipation at possibly seeing his friend again after so long, and nervousness over how much time had passed. Would he have changed? Would he still recognise Aiden?

A twig broke under a heavy tread behind him, and Aiden whirled around. His mouth fell open as he took in the boy – no, man – that stood across from him.

When he’d last seen Harvard, at fourteen, they’d both been tall and gangly, more limbs than substance, and Aiden had actually been taller. Now Harvard was. But he wasn’t only tall, he was broad, too, and muscular, with strong features that seemed forbidding at first, but softened into delight and wonder as he took in Aiden.

“Joshua…?” he asked, softly. His voice was deeper, more mature, and Aiden felt the hairs stand up on his arms.

“Harvard?” Aiden said. And then–

–he suddenly awoke to the sound of a fox screaming in the night, and his surroundings were his castle bedroom again.

“God damn it-” Aiden cursed, pummelling the pillow in frustration. He turned to look at the teddy bear that still sat on his bed after all these years.

“That was real, right? I didn’t imagine it? Can you get me back to him?”

He lay back down with the bear in his arms, but no matter how determinedly he pictured the forest, and Harvard, and thought about his voice saying Aiden’s (assumed) name, the dream didn’t materialise again.

The next morning, Aiden slept in well past sunrise, which was nothing new. No matter how many lectures his father gave him about self-discipline and the virtues of rising early, he didn’t see a single benefit to dragging himself out of his warm bed at the crack of dawn. He wasn’t a farm hand. On this occasion he’d also lost sleep to staring at his ceiling, thinking about Harvard.

A sharp rap sounded at the door, and Aiden groaned. “Come in.”

It was one of his father’s attendants, quite a senior one (Reiss? Reid?) and one of the ones who was irritatingly immune to Aiden turning on the charm, which meant that his father meant business. “His Majesty requests your presence in the principal drawing room,” Reiss/Reid said, stiffly.

Aiden sighed. What eye-wateringly boring business could his father need him for this time? “His wish is my command,” he told the attendant, who gave him a deeply sceptical look, but bowed and withdrew.

Aiden sighed again and rang the bell to summon a maid to help him dress and style his hair.

Half an hour later, Aiden was walking down to the principal drawing room. As he entered, he bowed to his father, the King, who was sitting in an ornate chair (not a throne, but definitely regal) in front of the fireplace. “Father,” he said.

“Ah. My son, the crown prince, has joined us at last,” his father said dryly. “Aiden. I requested you join us in order to introduce our new Captain of the Guard.” He gestured at someone standing to attention in front of him.

Aiden vaguely remembered that they’d been looking for someone new to fill the role after the former Captain of the Guard had been dismissed following some inappropriate behaviour with maidservants. His father had not been pleased. Aiden wouldn’t miss the old cad.

He turned to see who they’d found to take up the post – and felt as though the ground was falling away beneath his feet as he stared at a familiar tall, muscular figure with strong, handsome features now, like his, wearing an expression of shock.

Over the faint roaring in his ears, he heard his father say, “May I introduce Mr. Harvard Lee.”

“What are you doing here?”

Aiden had slipped away to talk to Harvard the first chance he was able. He told his father’s secretary, Lewis, who wanted him to go over some extremely tedious documents, that he needed to practice his swordwork. He never did swordwork practice voluntarily (that anyone knew of), so she eyed him with suspicion, but let him go. Aiden had gone to the first place he thought a new Captain of the Guard might inspect – the armoury – breezing past Sally Williams, the head of the armoury, in the process.

She gave him a look of dry amusement. “Your father didn’t punish you with more sword polishing, did he?”

“He hasn’t done that since I was sixteen,” Aiden replied airily. “And don’t give him any ideas.”

Harvard, who had been checking the sharpness of a rapier he pulled off the wall, raised his eyebrows as Aiden confronted him. “What am I doing here? I’m taking up my new post as Captain of the Guard.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a Captain of the Guard?” Aiden asked him. He’d covered up his stunned shock in the drawing room by telling his father that he’d been surprised to see someone so young, and well, it wasn’t untrue. “And I thought you lived all the way off in-” He dredged up the name of his kingdom from memory. “Miribar?”

“I’m very good at what I do,” Harvard told him, putting the rapier back on its mount and pulling another blade down. “And not for a few years, now. Once I got old enough, I started travelling and looking for work in neighbouring kingdoms, in order to send the money back to my family.”

“But why here?” Aiden reiterated, baffled.

Harvard raised an eyebrow at him. “Feldhaven is one of Miribar’s biggest trading partners since the new major trade route opened up a couple of years ago.”

“Right. I… remember that,” Aiden said. Mostly what he remembered was a lot of extremely dull council meetings that he’d skipped out on half of, but his father had been happy when the trade route was finalised.

Harvard’s raised eyebrow didn’t descend. “What about you? You told me your name was Joshua. And I thought you were the son of a nobleman, not – a crown prince.”

“Would you have believed me if I’d told you?” Aiden countered with a loose shrug. “Besides, you weren’t the only one looking for an escape from daily life.”

Harvard’s disapproval softened, but he levelled Aiden with a wry look. “Josh- Aiden, we met each other in a dream. Do you really think there’s much else I wouldn’t believe?”

Aiden huffed a laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “Right.” He really liked hearing his real name in Harvard’s voice.

Harvard put the longsword he was holding back on the wall. “Do you think…” he said, and then hesitated. “The dreams. They must mean something, right?”

Aiden shook his head, baffled. It had been a long time since he’d actively tried to work out what was causing the dreams, having given up and accepted them, but never in a hundred years would he have expected Harvard to just… show up in his life like this.

“I have no idea,” he said honestly. Harvard turned to look at him, worry written across his face. Aiden gave him a crooked smirk. “But hey, at least we don’t need dreams to meet now, right?”

Jay was a relatively new addition to the castle kitchen staff – new enough not to have developed immunity to Aiden’s coy glances in the corridors and carefully-dropped words of approval. He was tall; Aiden liked tall. Not much of a conversationalist, but Aiden didn’t require conversation from any of his partners. He was happy for them to use their mouth for other things.

They were tucked away in a secluded nook around the back of the castle, hidden by greenery. It was a place that the castle guard rarely patrolled – Aiden had their patrol patterns memorised. Getting from there back up to his bedroom would be harder, but Aiden had his routes.

Jay broke away from their kiss with a gasp, gazing at Aiden. He smiled back, knowing he looked exactly the right amount of flushed and attractively mussed. In truth, things were taking a bit longer than he’d like to heat up, but he was prepared to wait. He didn’t have much else better to do today.

“Aiden, I-” Jay stammered. “I never thought… that a man like you would notice someone like me.”

The men he bedded were always like this – so flustered, so disbelievingly flattered to have the crown prince paying attention to them. Sometimes word of his reputation got around, but Aiden tried to get to them before that happened. Even when it did, most of them refused to believe it of the smiling, attentive crown prince who was paying them such special attention.

That was, until afterwards.

Aiden looked up at Jay with half-lidded eyes. “How could I not?” he replied with a purr. Jay blushed. Smiling, Aiden leaned in to resume the kiss–

–when someone standing just outside their hiding place cleared his throat.

Jay’s eyes flew open, and he pulled quickly away from Aiden. Aiden looked around in annoyance, wondering which member of his father’s retinue had interrupted them. Had the guards changed their patrol patterns without him realising?

Aiden ducked under a tree branch and came face-to-face with – Harvard. The Captain of the Guard stood there in full leather armour, the golden royal crest emblazoned on his breastplate. It was a good look on him, honestly, but Aiden was too busy feeling annoyed at the interruption. He’d barely seen Harvard since he arrived; the role of Captain of the Guard was a demanding one, and Harvard had thrown himself into performing his duties.

But now he was taking the time to interrupt Aiden’s dalliances, for some reason.

Jay emerged from the nook and blanched as he saw Harvard.

“Shouldn’t you be in the castle kitchens right now, Jay?” Harvard asked evenly.

“Yessir,” Jay said hurriedly. He walked away, though not without throwing a backwards glance at Aiden, who winked and blew him a kiss. He wasn’t finished with Jay yet.

Harvard turned to eye Aiden with disapproval. Aiden leaned up against the small tree that so conveniently hid his favourite make-out nook (well, favourite until now), projecting an air of indifference.

“I heard the rumours about you, but I didn’t want to believe them,” Harvard said. “Do you really think this kind of behaviour is befitting of a crown prince?”

‘This kind of behaviour’ – Harvard sounded like one of his father’s lackeys. “Do you really think that coming to interrupt a tryst between the prince and a kitchen boy befits the Captain of the Guard?” he countered with a questioning smile.

“Well, someone needs to,” Harvard replied. “Does your father know about all of this?”

Aiden gave a snort. “He gave up on me a long time ago,” he replied. “As long as word doesn’t directly reach him about what I’m up to, I can do what I like. Why, are you going to report this to him?”

“I should,” Harvard said. “Maybe then you’d do something worthwhile with your time.”

Aiden rolled his eyes. “I never would have thought my friend would turn out to be such an uptight stick in the mud,” he said.

“And I never thought my friend would turn out to be a lazy, layabout prince,” Harvard told him, before turning to walk away.

Out of sheer spite, Aiden went to find another willing partner to coax into his bed. It didn’t take long.

Harvard’s comments – and high-minded disapproval – needled at Aiden over the next few days. The thing was, he was used to disappointing people. In fact, he deliberately made sure that no-one would have any expectations of him, in order to save them the bother.

But Harvard used to look at him like – like there was no-one else he’d rather be around. He’d been different.

Somehow, he found himself leaning against a wall in the courtyard, watching Harvard run drills with the palace guard. ‘I’m very good at what I do,’ Harvard had said. Aiden wanted to see if that was true.

He had to admit, Harvard was impressive, executing each move with polished technique, the metal of his sword and the studs and buckles on his armour glinting in the sun. Aiden wouldn’t have expected the palace guard, almost all of whom were older than him, to follow such a young Captain so easily, and he did see a few rolling their eyes at his commands. But most of them looked at him with complete respect.

It didn’t hurt that when Harvard called for a volunteer partner to demonstrate a move, he had out-manoeuvred the other man and disarmed him in a matter of seconds.

But while Harvard’s sword work was solid, it wasn’t without holes. Aiden waited until Harvard had finished the training drills and dismissed the other guards before he called out.

“Not bad. But you need to shore up those holes in your lower body defence.”

Harvard looked up from running a cloth – unnecessarily – along his blade and raised his eyebrows. “You’re critiquing my fighting technique?”

Aiden made sure he appeared as bored and arrogant as possible, because it always paid to have people underestimate you. “I am.”

Harvard’s brow crinkled with bemusement, but he didn’t dismiss Aiden. “And what’s wrong with my lower body defence?”

There was a spare rapier on the ground, and Aiden picked it up and used it as a pointer to illustrate his critique. “Your defence of weak points above the waist is solid,” he said. “But you don’t effectively parry attacks lower down. A more skilled opponent would easily take advantage of that.”

“Are you saying the palace guard is unskilled?” Harvard asked him. He didn’t deny Aiden’s criticism, Aiden noticed.

“They vary in skill,” Aiden said. “Some are excellent fighters; others are mediocre but have good stamina. And some are the sons or nephews of much more skilled fighters, who were accepted on the basis of their family name. I’m sure you’ve already begun to notice which are which.”

Harvard looked thoughtful. “And how would you know all of this?” he asked Aiden.

“What would a ‘lazy, layabout prince’ know about sword fighting, you mean?” said Aiden. “I’ve had duelling lessons since I was six.” He shifted his grip on the spare rapier, extending the blade in Harvard’s direction. “I can prove it to you.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you,” Harvard objected.

“No, but you think my knowledge is all theory,” Aiden said. He took up a fighting stance. “Let me show you exactly how well I can put it into practice.”

Harvard didn’t move to raise his weapon. “You’re not wearing protective equipment,” he objected. “I can’t duel you – you’d get hurt.”

“I’m flattered by your concern,” Aiden told him. He tugged at the neck of his shirt, easing the buttons undone (something Aiden was practiced at doing with one hand) – Harvard’s eyes widened, and he made as if to avert his gaze, which was adorable. Underneath Aiden’s shirt, he wore a protective leather tunic. “I’m not in the habit of walking about unprotected. That’s just asking for trouble.”

Harvard looked intrigued. “Doesn’t that get in the way during trysts?” he said slyly. Aiden was surprised to hear Harvard crack a joke about his licentious ways.

“I’m very good at undoing laces,” Aiden told him, and thought that he spied a blush on Harvard’s cheeks.

He buttoned his shirt back up, and they took up mirrored fighting stances across from each other. Aiden let Harvard get in the first point, lulling him into a sense of security, and then feinted under his guard and scored a hit to the leg.

“Touché,” Harvard said. He then quickly scored a hit of his own – to Aiden’s wrist, which Aiden was incorrectly bending at an angle, something his duelling master would have rapped him over the spot in question for. It was a fast, sneaky hit, the kind that Aiden prided himself on, and Harvard smirked as Aiden met his eyes accusingly. “But don’t underestimate me, either.”

Oh, it was on now. Aiden narrowed his eyes, calculating angles of attack. He feinted again, but Harvard was too smart to fall for that one a second time, and caught him as he went in for the true attack. Just to make a point, Aiden went in for a hit to the knee, which Harvard saw coming but failed to parry. He followed it up with another to the shin. “Come on, now you’re just making it too easy!”

Harvard thrust, and Aiden parried, but – he was parrying in the wrong place. Harvard had telegraphed a hit to the chest, and instead delivered a stinging blow to the side. He gave a fierce grin. “Maybe you should talk less, and pay more attention to your defence.”

Aiden distracted all of his opponents by talking, but he had exclusively duelled wound-up noblemen who thought they were in for an easy match and were completely thrown off-balance by his skill (with a few well-placed verbal barbs for good measure). Harvard wasn’t the type to fall for that. Aiden realised if he wanted to win this one, he had to do it properly.

He also realised that for the first time that he could remember, he was having fun. Showing up over-confident noblemen was satisfying, but it was boring, too. Aiden wasn’t used to duelling someone who actually tested his skill. His heart rate picked up as he began analysing the puzzle of Harvard, working to strategise and identify the holes in his defence.

By unspoken agreement, they went first-to-ten: Aiden scored seven hits on Harvard, but Harvard scored ten on Aiden. By the time they were finished, both of them were breathing hard; Aiden, admittedly, more than Harvard. He pulled open his shirt – all the way, this time – and loosened the ties on his constricting tunic. For once, he wasn’t doing it out of intent to seduce, but he didn’t miss Harvard’s eyes going to the exposed skin at his throat as he did so.

“Good match,” he said, meaning it.

“You, too,” Harvard said, sheathing his rapier. “I’ll admit it: there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.”

Aiden smirked, removing the leather thong that tied his hair back and running his fingers through the slightly-tangled locks. “So, not just the spoiled heir to the throne, then?”

“You can be that and other things,” Harvard said, and Aiden choked on a laugh. “But you’re a better fighter than half of the palace guard. I don’t suppose I could persuade you to school some of them in our next training session?”

Aiden shook his head. “And do away with my carefully-constructed façade? There’s no telling what might come from that. Next thing you know, I’ll be given responsibilities.” He shuddered.

Harvard eyed Aiden speculatively. He knew that the idea of deliberately not living up to your full potential was anathema to an honest, hard-working man like Harvard. Aiden admired him for it – really – but he couldn’t do the same. Being heir to the throne was exhausting enough as it is.

“I’ll let you off,” Harvard said, reluctantly, “as long as you give me your notes on the strengths and weaknesses of the other members of the guard.”

“Deal,” Aiden said.

Layabout persona or not, though, Aiden knew that there were responsibilities he wouldn’t be able to dodge once he turned eighteen. Which was why, when his father announced that they would be holding a royal ball to introduce him to potential marriage suitors, he bore it with as much good grace as he was able.

Which was to say, he complained constantly to Harvard about it.

“I thought this kind of thing is what you excel at,” Harvard pointed out on one such occasion. “You know – turning on the charm, winding people around your finger. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“It’s not the same when I have to do it,” Aiden whined. “That just makes it boring.”

Harvard rolled his eyes, and then told Aiden that he needed to either help with cleaning the riding tack or go and bother someone else instead.

But the day of the ball arrived and Aiden was dressed to the nines in the Great Hall, dutifully meeting and greeting an endless parade of royal and noble suitors. (Royal was preferable, but there were only so many kingdoms, and a nobleman or nobleman’s son could be a politically advantageous match under the right circumstances). He took comfort in the fact that at least he looked fantastic.

Harvard was there too, in an appropriately shiny set of dress armour, which was a bonus. Aiden watched him out of the corner of his eye, noticing how easily he spoke to people and how genuine his kindness was, even though he’d told Aiden that he felt like a fish out of water among the nobility.

For that reason, after suffering through an achingly boring conversation with one Seiji Katayama, a prince from a neighbouring kingdom who only ever wanted to talk about sword technique, Aiden felt no qualms about palming him off onto Harvard. Sure enough, they immediately struck up an animated conversation.

Aiden caught his breath for a second and glanced around, looking for any other incoming suitors.

“Let me guess, he was talking your ear off about swords,” said an amused voice. Aiden turned to see a tall (strong point), slender, dark guy in bright, powder blue robes. He flashed Aiden a mischievous grin. “Rahul Taylor. Second son of a Harrashi nobleman; I’m not really important enough to be a serious candidate, but I managed to qualify for the guest list, so I thought I’d make the most of it.” He extended a hand to Aiden. “Want to dance?”

Aiden considered the offered hand. He could get on board with someone who was just there to have fun. “Sure, why not.”

Rahul was a decent dancer and had a biting sense of humour that Aiden enjoyed, so it wasn’t a hardship spending time with him. They spun around the dance floor and made biting comments about the other guests, and Rahul entertained Aiden with stories of life in Harrash and gossip about the Harrashi nobility.

During one lull, while Rahul was getting them both some more drinks, Harvard pulled Aiden aside. “Why is that man hanging around you so much?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Because I’m the guest of honour, and effortlessly charming and delightful?” Aiden suggested. “Isn’t that kind of what everyone is here for?”

Harvard folded his arms with a clink of armour. “He should know it’s polite to let other people get a word in edgeways. He can’t monopolise your time constantly.”

Aiden put his head on one side, bemused. “We’re just socialising, Harvard. Lighten up. Honestly, first you were on my case about not acting appropriately, now I’m acting too appropriately?”

Harvard looked disgruntled. “I just get a bad feeling from him.”

Aiden didn’t see Harvard’s problem, but even the novelty of talking to Rahul wore off eventually, and he excused himself to talk to other guests. After making polite noises of agreement in a couple more conversations, Aiden finally escaped and found Harvard at the edge of the Great Hall.

“Come on, Harvard,” he said, brandishing a bottle of wine he’d stolen from one of the tables. “Let’s sneak out for a bit. I’m going to snap and cause a diplomatic incident if I don’t get a break.”

Harvard looked torn; Aiden knew that he was tired of standing on ceremony the whole evening, too. “We shouldn’t-”

“Look, I’ll come back and be the perfect prince again afterwards,” Aiden bargained. “Think of it as being in service to the long-term good of the evening.”

Harvard quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you’ve ever been the ‘perfect prince’,” he said, but he allowed Aiden to tug him out of the hall.

They slipped out into the dark, and found another of the nooks that Aiden favoured for sneaking around. Harvard gave him a look, but didn’t comment. They passed the stolen bottle of wine between them.

It emboldened Aiden enough to say, “See, having a history of doing things I’m not supposed to has some benefits.”

Harvard took a drink from the bottle. “But doesn’t it ever bother you… Your reputation? Don’t you get tired of the things people assume?”

“In my experience,” Aiden replied, “it has more benefits than drawbacks.” If he wanted people to have high expectations of him, he’d be doing a lot of things very differently. “What about you? Don’t you ever get tired of – expectations? People expecting you to be responsible?”

Harvard gave a little sigh, the bottle dangling from his fingers. Aiden snagged it; still half left.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I like helping people – being the person they can go to. But I do also wish that I could just… relax more.” He took the bottle back from Aiden before he could drink any more. “That’s why I always enjoyed the dreams. Spending time with you. You never expected me to be anything more than who I was.”

It was the first time that either of them had mentioned the dreams since Harvard arrived. The subject had hung in the air, unspoken – neither of them knew how to bring it up.

“Do you ever wonder… Are we the only ones?” Harvard asked Aiden softly. “Surely there must be other documented instances of this type of thing happening.”

“When I was old enough, I started searching the library for books about dreams,” Aiden admitted. “Or strange happenings, but… none of it was credible. They all talked about magic.”

Harvard cocked his head at Aiden, necking the nearly-empty bottle. “And you don’t think that a strange thing happening to us could possibly be magic?”

“There must be another explanation,” Aiden insisted. “You and I, we aren’t… We’re just normal people. And magic isn’t real.”

Harvard gave the bottle back to him. “My grandmother could do unusual things. She always knew what people were feeling – she could tell with a touch. She used to help them with their problems. I think magic is real, it’s just – we don’t always recognise it.”

Aiden didn’t think his grandparents ever had any special abilities, but then he didn’t know anything about his mother’s side of the family, because she’d died young. “There was other stuff in the books that…” He trailed off, not sure if he could go there even while tipsy.

“What?” Harvard asked him.

“If you want to know, I can show you, but-” Aiden hesitated. “You’ll have to come up to my bedroom.”

Fortunately, Harvard looked amused rather than annoyed. “I bet you say that to all of the men.”

Aiden smirked at him. “Trust me, you haven’t heard any of my best lines yet.”

“Yet?” asked Harvard, following Aiden back into the castle.

In reality, Aiden would never take a one-night stand back to his real bedchamber. There were plenty of other bedrooms in the castle he could use, and his private bedroom was far too intimate.

He felt a twinge of nervousness, bringing Harvard inside, but he covered it as well as he could. “Here we are,” he said, opening the door with a flourish. Luckily, most of the staff was occupied with the ball, so dodging people on the way up to his bedroom had been easy.

As soon as he stepped into the room, Harvard’s eyes fell on the teddy bear on the four poster bed. “Oh, wow,” he said with delight. “You’ve still got him!”

Aiden smiled, crossing over to sit on the bed and pick up the bear. “There were times where I half-convinced myself I’d made the whole thing up, and the bear was a gift from some relative I’d forgotten about,” he said. “Especially when we went a long time between dreams.”

Harvard scratched his head, sheepishly. He strangely didn’t look out of place standing in Aiden’s bedroom, even in full armour. “I went through phases like that, myself. But I wanted so badly for it to be real.”

Aiden felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and not the fake kind he put on for the men he bedded. “Me too,” he said, softly.

Then he patted the space on the bed next to him. “Sit down, will you? You can take your armour off.”

“Do you say that to all the-”

“Oh, be quiet.”

Once Harvard had shed his armour, giving way to a soft, form-fitting emerald green layer beneath it, he sat down on the bed next to Aiden. Aiden reached underneath his bed and drew out three books, stacked on top of each other. Some dust clung to the edges, but otherwise they were in good condition.

“I kept them for a few years,” he told Harvard with a shrug. “After that, I thought it would be more suspicious if they reappeared.”

He flipped the top book open to the place he’d read and re-read over the years, hoping that the text might yield some hidden meaning that would explain everything. “Here,” he said, passing it over to Harvard to read.

“Dreams and visions are often thought to have significant meaning and have even been reported to foretell events yet to come,” Harvard read aloud. “And so on… Instances of shared dreams are rarer, but accounts have been documented of individuals meeting within a dream despite never having encountered one another in life prior to this. So – it’s not just us? That’s helpful!”

“Keep reading,” Aiden told him, a little gloomily.

“Such phenomena are seen as clear proof of occult or magickal forces beyond our comprehension. Why and how some individuals are capable of sharing a dream-space is as yet undetermined. It is thought that shared dreams may show one the identity of a future lover, or that an incredibly high degree of compatibility between souls – an affinity, it may be said, on the spiritual level – is required to form this connection.” Harvard frowned. “Spiritual affinity?”

“See,” Aiden said, reaching out to close the book. “It’s clearly nonsense.”

“Well, I didn’t say it was nonsense,” Harvard objected. “They’re clearly describing the same thing we’ve experienced, and that means something. What about the other books? Do they have other theories?”

“They’re worse,” Aiden told him. “One of them talks about linked destinies, another suggests that sleep may be a way of unconsciously tapping into a stored well of magical power. And this power lets people meet the person their soul is ‘yearning’ for.”

A smile tugged at Harvard’s lips, but he looked thoughtful, flipping the first book open again. “And you don’t think this could have any basis in truth at all?” he asked, seemingly casually.

“Wh- y- Do you?” Aiden spluttered.

“Well, think about it,” Harvard said, meeting Aiden’s gaze. “When we were children, we both managed to find in each other a playmate that we were desperate for, even though we lived thousands of miles apart. Even though our lives are incredibly different, we became friends and we understood each other. And if you want to talk about linked destinies…” He motioned between the two of them on the bed. “I don’t think it’s far-fetched to say we’ve been drawn together somehow.”

Aiden licked his lips, which were suddenly dry. “And… ‘future lovers’?” he asked.

Harvard’s eyes dropped to his mouth. (This wasn’t wishful thinking on Aiden’s part: he was very well-versed in what that looked like). “I’m not just going to be… another one of your conquests,” he said, so softly that Aiden had to strain to hear him. “So if you don’t feel that there’s anything more meaningful between us, then-”

“I’ve never brought anyone into my private bedroom before,” Aiden interrupted him. He was definitely blushing now, and didn’t care. “I wouldn’t bring a one-night fling into such a – personal space. You’re the first, Harvard.”

Harvard’s lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m honoured,” he said. “I know you’re not normally the romantic type.”

Aiden felt ridiculous even admitting it to himself, but he wanted romance with Harvard. If Harvard felt the same way, then he would do all of the ridiculous things that you did with someone you were courting – flowers, bestowing a token of your affection, love ballads (maybe not love ballads. He didn’t have a talent for singing). Everything except holding himself back from kissing Harvard, because he couldn’t possibly be expected to do that.

“It’s different with you,” Aiden told him. “And that’s not just a line, I – I genuinely don’t know how to do this, but I want to try. I’m… serious about you, Harvard.” When Harvard didn’t move to close the space between them, he added, “And I’m also serious about you kissing me, please would you just-”

Harvard smirked, then tilted his head to press his lips to Aiden’s. Aiden had shared a lot of kisses with different people over the years (like, a lot). But this felt like nothing he’d ever felt before. It wasn’t just the way he felt light and tingly, like the whole of his body was made of sparks. He could feel pleasure that didn’t seem like it was coming from him. He felt his own pleasure, and could recognise that, but there was another layer of giddy pleasure washing over him that came from somewhere else.

Someone else?

Aiden broke away and stared at Harvard, who was staring back, equally pole-axed. “What was…?” Harvard murmured.

Aiden wasn’t concerned about over-analysing it, but as he shifted the books away to give them more room, he wondered whether the ‘spiritual affinity’ thing might not be total nonsense after all. “I have no idea, but please, let’s do it again,” he said.

Another thing that Aiden never did was take his time with a partner. After all, when you might be discovered at any moment, time was of the essence. Also, Aiden got bored easily. His bed partners never seemed to mind the urgency – in fact, it added an extra thrill.

But Aiden had never had the chance to appreciate just how good it was to stretch out on a bed with someone, just kissing and touching, knowing you had all the time in the world to spend together and enjoy yourselves. He really was turning into a sap. At the moment, Aiden was craning his neck to one side to let Harvard explore the skin there. “Mmmm… Keep doing that.”

Just then, the big clock on the castle bell tower started to chime the hour. They both stiffened, counting the chimes. Surely, it couldn’t be later than eleven… At least, that was what Aiden thought until the clock gave a damning twelfth chime.

“Midnight,” Harvard groaned with dismay. “God, we’ve been gone from the party for hours-” He sat up, his eyes going to his armour on the floor.

“Harvard,” said Aiden, quickly. “If you reappear now, it’s going to cause all sorts of questions. You can use the excuse of saying you retired early with a headache, but it’s better if you slip out in the early hours of the morning, before the first patrols. You’ll be able to make your way back to your room without anyone noticing.”

Harvard sat back on the bed a little, considering. “So… You want me to sleep here?”

Aiden looked away. “Or, we could just stay up and talk for a few more hours. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“No, I need to be at least marginally well-rested for training drills tomorrow,” Harvard said. “Okay.” He scooted to the far side of the bed, and lay down.

“‘Okay’?” Aiden asked, suspicious. He had been expecting Harvard to make more protests about propriety.

“You’ve made a good argument,” Harvard replied. He patted the space next to him. “You aren’t shy about sharing, are you?”

“I don’t think ‘shy’ is something I’ve ever been accused of,” Aiden told him, nestling himself into the space next to Harvard. But as Harvard’s arm went around his waist, he had to admit that this was again, unlike anything he’d ever done before. Aiden was not a ‘stay the night and cuddle’ guy.

There was silence for a few moments, and then Harvard spoke. “I don’t want you to think – that is, I’m not ready for…”

“I know you’re a ‘taking it slow’ kind of person,” Aiden told him. “Don’t worry – your virtue is safe.”

Harvard gave a little chuckle that Aiden felt on the back of his neck. “Goodnight, then.”

Aiden pulled the covers up and over them. “Sleep well.”

Aiden wasn’t always good at falling asleep quickly, which was one of the reasons he tended to sleep in late. But sleep must have overtaken him almost immediately, because the next thing he knew, he was standing in a darkened corridor of the castle. “What…”

He recognised the quality of the dream even before he saw Harvard standing a few feet away. This was another shared dream – but this time, they weren’t outside, in an unrecognisable space. They were in a space that Aiden knew very well.

Harvard turned this way and that. “We’re outside the library,” he said, hushed. “But… we’re still asleep, right?”

“I think so,” Aiden said. “This feels like a dream.” At least, of the kind that only he and Harvard seemed to be able to produce.

There was a noise from inside the library, and Harvard’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s in there at this hour?” he asked.

“Some of our archivists do keep odd hours…” Aiden said, but without conviction. Normally if the library was in use, it would be lit up brightly. But there was no lamplight glow coming from the doorway.

“Come on,” Harvard said, and the two of them quietly entered the library. In a dream, Aiden’s eyes apparently didn’t need to adjust to the darkness, and so he was able to immediately identify the figure moving in and out of the stacks, gathering documents.

It was Rahul Taylor.

“Son of a bitch,” Aiden murmured to himself. The library wasn’t off-limits to visitors, but they were meant to be closely supervised. He didn’t like the look of what Rahul was doing.

“Hey!” Harvard called out, and strode forward, fully in Captain of the Guard mode. But Rahul didn’t react, pulling a last document off the shelf and moving over to a reading desk, where various other books and documents sat stacked up, waiting to be perused.

Aiden shook his head. “He can’t hear us, Harvard,” he said. But he thought about the teddy bear Harvard had given him, and wondered whether the same rules applied to objects in the room. He walked over to the stack of books that sat next to Rahul, who was now pulling up a chair and beginning to light a candle to see by.

Aiden gave the stack a push, sending it toppling in such a way that it clattered against a neighbouring desk on the way down with a loud series of thumps.

“Damn!” Rahul muttered, jumping up from the desk and frantically gathering books. He kept still, listening out for any footsteps coming to investigate the noise, and so did Aiden and Harvard. But there were none, and after a few moments, Rahul relaxed and put the books back on the desk.

“That noise should have brought the guards on patrol running,” Harvard said, with concern. “Where are they?”

“Rahul must have done something to make sure he wouldn’t be disturbed,” Aiden said, putting the pieces together. “Slipped them a sleeping draught, maybe – it wouldn’t be hard to disguise in a drink. There’s been plenty of wine available at the party.”

Harvard stared down in frustration at Rahul, who was beginning to make notes on a scrap of paper. He had sat the candle in a holder, where it only cast a dim light, but enough to see by. “How are we supposed to sound the alarm? We can’t interact with people, can we?”

Aiden experimentally reached down to shake Rahul’s shoulder, but his hand seemed to hover above the other man, unable to make contact. “It doesn’t look like it.” But he’d had another idea. “I think I know how to scare him off.”

He reached out and gave the candle in its holder a deliberate wobble.

Rahul froze, and stared in alarm at the candle. “Wh- Who’s there?” he whispered.

In response, Aiden tilted the candle forward even more dramatically.

“Aiden-” Harvard said, warningly. “Be careful.”

Rahul had jumped up from his chair, watching the candle in fear. But he hadn’t run yet, and so Aiden gave the lit candle a final push, sending it tumbling down onto the desk. The flame caught the corner of Rahul’s paper, which began to smoulder and flicker.

“Ah! Ahhh!” Rahul shouted, discretion forgotten, and cast about for something to put out the fire. He went to use a corner of his cloak before realising that the library contained earthenware pots of soil for this exact purpose, and threw one over the paper. But there was no salvaging the notes he’d made.

Rahul quickly grabbed some documents, sending the pile cascading down again. He glanced at it frantically, clearly torn between covering his tracks and getting the hell out of an apparently haunted library. To set the seal on things, Aiden gave the candle another ominous nudge.

Rahul clutched the documents and ran from the library.

Aiden laughed, surveying the scene of devastation he’d left behind. “That was fun.”

“That was dangerous, Aiden,” Harvard remonstrated with him. “What if the stack had caught fire?”

“I would have put it out before it reached that point,” Aiden said. “The library has had anti-fire measures for a long time, after one too many reading accidents.”

Harvard sighed. “Well, he still took the documents. He’ll be trying to make an escape from the castle before it gets light.”

Aiden looked at him, recognising the determined set that was taking over his face. “You’re going to try and stop him.”

“There’s a chance that he won’t get past the door guards, but I need to make sure,” Harvard said. “I’ll say that I couldn’t sleep, and was going for a walk to clear my head.”

Aiden sighed. He would have argued that Harvard could leave things to someone else for a change, but that knew that it wasn’t his friend’s (more-than-a-friend’s?) style. “Just be careful. If you take the left fork out of my room, it’ll look like you were coming from the medical storeroom and were searching for a headache remedy.”

Harvard smiled, and pulled Aiden in for a quick, affectionate kiss. Yes, Aiden could definitely get used to this. “Thanks, Aiden. I wonder if I can wake-”

And then he was gone.

Aiden’s surroundings faded out more gradually, as he dimly became aware of someone moving in the bed next to him. He rolled over and blinked awake, blearily watching Harvard pulling on pieces of his armour.

“Go back to sleep,” Harvard said, softly, and Aiden felt the teddy bear being placed into his arms. He smiled as he drifted back off.

The next morning, the castle was abuzz with the story of Rahul Taylor, second son of a Harrashi nobleman, being apprehended as he attempted to flee the castle with stolen documents. Some said that he had left a trail of destruction in the library and attempted to burn key financial records. Aiden smirked as his maid related the gossip to him while styling his hair, and made appropriately shocked and appalled noises.

Helpfully for Aiden, the scandal distracted from the question of where he had been for the last part of the evening, although he shored up his alibi anyway by making sure that Arune Singh, a childhood friend and son of a lord, would swear that they had been together sharing wine and swapping stories late into the night.

“You do owe me the gossip about where you actually were, though,” he told Aiden with a grin, before Aiden was called away.

Aiden had to sit through several tedious diplomatic meetings as a result of the incident, where he shocked everyone in attendance by offering an opinion on the response that Feldhaven should give. Aiden’s father looked approving, and said that he was glad Aiden had started to take his crown prince duties seriously at last.

Sure thing.

Aiden was finally able to escape and corner Harvard in the armoury, where Sally Williams gave him a look that suggested she knew exactly why he was there, but made no comment.

As it turned out, Aiden and Harvard (and Rahul) weren’t the only ones who hadn’t been where they were meant to be, the previous night. Apparently dull, dry Prince Seiji Katayama had struck up an unlikely friendship with Nicholas Cox, a young but promising member of the palace guard, and the two of them had stayed up late sparring and talking in the armoury. Sally Williams had discovered them asleep there the next morning, and an abashed Seiji Katayama had joined the palace guard for training drills.

Aiden snorted with amusement as Harvard told him this tale. “Are you going to draft him into the guard?” he asked.

“I don’t think that’s allowed, but he is excellent,” Harvard said, wistfully. “I might be able to persuade him to come back and give demonstrations, though. Since you won’t.” He gave Aiden a mock reproving look.

“I’m sure he’ll be more than adequate,” Aiden said. “I might even have to stop by and watch.” He stretched and yawned – last night’s events had disrupted his beauty sleep, though he wasn’t complaining – before looking over to check that Sally Williams had left the armoury for the time being. “Hey. Want to put the supply cupboard to good use?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Harvard.

Harvard looked torn, clearly having picked the worst possible time to have an attack of conscience. “Aiden… What are you going to do about finding a marriage suitor?” he asked, guiltily. “Your father is going to expect you to choose a candidate from the ball – or from some other kingdom-”

Aiden took Harvard firmly by the arm, and towed him towards the supply cupboard. “If there’s one thing you should already know about me,” he said, “It’s that I’m excellent at dodging responsibility.”

He pulled Harvard inside the supply cupboard and shut the door firmly behind them.