Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kabru had to admit that King Laios could deliver an excellent speech.

Write them – no, but that’s what him and Marcille were there for. Remember them – atrocious and impossible. But with practice, coaching, and a script, Laios was a captivating, enthralling speaker. Enough so that Kabru found himself unable to look away from him; the crowd could have been on fire or a swarm of bees and he wouldn’t have noticed. Kabru hated this.

Everyone was watching them up on the castle balcony. It felt like everyone was watching him, like they could see how enraptured he was with their king.

Their king who was draped in that damned wolfskin, over a regal burgundy tunic and brown pants that were getting far too tight at this point; Kabru had avoided mentioning it but was regretting it now that they were, frankly, a workplace hazard for him.

Laios was nearing the end of his address. “We thank you for your hard work and understanding during this first month in our new world,” he spoke, grand yet gentle.

It was impressive enough seeing so much power in front of a thousand people – but it was another to have had it all directed at Kabru when they had practiced it one-on-one the night before, those piercing eyes directing all their focus into him. The memory of it sent a chill up Kabru’s spine.

“The path ahead of us is being formed as we walk it,” Laios continued, “And you are all leading the way alongside us here at the castle. This was your home first, and it will continue to be yours long after I’m gone.” There was a hoarseness in how Laios delivered this line this morning that surprised Kabru; it stood out compared to last night, when Laios had sounded wistful and had barely breathed it, Kabru watching his lips move in the dim candlelight of the castle library. Kabru couldn’t tell which one made him feel weaker in the knees.

Kabru would not admit to anyone but himself that he found King Laios, unfortunately, incredibly physically attractive.

“For the next three days, we will celebrate the harvest of your efforts. The winter months ahead of us will be cold and wearing. Please eat, drink, and enjoy as much as you can. You worked for this; and it will sustain you. With each bite, reminisce on the beauty and accomplishments of this past golden month together!”

That last line was improvised, Kabru noted. Laios did have a way with words when it came to invigorating people about food.

When had this gotten so attractive to him? It’s normal to be attracted to passion, he explained to himself.

“Please, go forth and enjoy your festival!” Laios yelled out, his voice swelling, as he smiled and waved towards the festival street set up below them.

With applause roaring loud, the crowd began to move into the street. There were tables of buffet food down the middle, lined with the booths of local businesses on either side.

Kabru took the step forward needed to place a hand on Laios’s shoulder, right as Marcille came around the other side. He kept himself from running his hand along the wolfskin. “You did a great job, Laios,” he said.

“You were amazing!” Marcille added. “You hardly even needed your notes.”

Laios grinned at them. “I couldn’t have done it without you guys!”

“I’m glad it helped,” he smiled back.

“Can we go down to the festival now? I’m starving.”

Marcille moved to look down from the edge of the balcony. “We should probably wait for things to calm down a bit. It looks like mayhem right now.”

Laios groaned as he slid down in his grand seat, head turned up at the sky. Kabru stared at his neck. It looked soft. “I guess you’re right,” he said.

He began chatting with Marcille about what she was most excited to eat and what they should save for Falin when she came back later that week, and Kabru tried to refocus himself. As amusing as exploring this crush had been this past month, he worried that it was getting out of hand.

It was one thing to become a royal advisor for a friend you passively thought was attractive. That was the situation Kabru thought he had signed himself up for. He thought he’d give it one week of being forced to witness all of Laios’ various quirks and shortcomings and he wouldn’t be able to remember what he’d seen in him that way anymore.

And then a week in, Kabru saw Laios get angry.

He was, unsurprisingly, nervous in this new role as monarch and on-edge constantly. When a representative from a neighbouring village muttered about having to now be in business with “half-beasts and half-elves,” Laios rose and lunged forward, hand on the hilt of his sword like a remnant instinct from his adventuring days. The sleeve of his tunic fell to his elbow, revealing a tense vein. He yelled at the representative to leave as Kabru held a hand on his arm to hold him back. His hand barely wrapped around half of Laios’ bicep, and he doubted his restraint would do any good.

But Laios patted his hand as the representative left, and he told Kabru thanks before sitting back down.

Kabru had had to excuse himself as soon as they let out for lunch that day to… sort himself out in the bathroom. Since then, his interest had been a growing nuisance.

“Kabru? Is everything okay?” Marcille asked in the present, noticing he’d drifted off.

“Yes!” Kabru replied quickly. “Sorry.” He looked down at the street, which had developed some sense of order. “Shall we head down?” he asked desperate for space. Laios jumped out of his seat with what sounded almost like a battle cry. “Let’s eat!” he roared.

In the street, Kabru sampled some squash soup and couldn’t help himself from watching Laios load up his plate, conversing with the villagers the entire time. His people knew he was a kind king, albeit a strange one – and he could see it reflected on their faces as they listened to him. Kabru could tell just from his gestures and facial expressions that Laios was comparing the food to what he’d had in the dungeon.

After clearing his plate, Kabru decided to disappear into the crowd of shoppers to the side. He needed something, anything, to clear his head of this stupid crush.

And then he saw it.

The sign read Lisle Fael Portraitist, but it was one painting in the corner of the display that caught Kabru’s eye.

A lush, vivid, oil portrait of the Golden King at the dragon festival stared at him with determined, bright, golden eyes. He barely glanced at the vendor before picking up the portrait to admire it.

“Oh!” exclaimed the vendor, who must be Lisle, with a small curtesy. “I apologize,” they said, “are you one of the King’s royal advisors?”

Kabru smiled at the vendor with his diplomatic charm. “I am.”

“I wasn’t sure if unofficial portraiture was permitted. I am deeply apologetic if it is not. I can destroy the painting,” they explained, hands behind their back and their head down.

 “No – no, I was just admiring it for its accuracy. You have an eye for the craft, clearly. How much would it cost for us to add it to our royal collection?” he asked. He tried not to think about how this was a terrible idea.

Lisle almost jumped. “Please, no, take it for free.”

Kabru shook his head gently. “That would be robbery. We are more than willing and able to pay a fair price.”

The artist nodded slightly. “If you insist….”

Kabru resisted the urge to glance behind himself for witnesses like he was doing something illicit, which it felt certainly like it was, as he exchanged coins with the artist for the now paper-wrapped portrait. “It will be a wonderful start to the collection.” Kabru nodded goodbye and dropped his usual charming smile as soon as he turned around.

His heart was racing.

He snuck his way through the crowd and slipped into the castle, heading straight for his room.

He was not going to be hanging the painting in the hallways of the castle.

He gently undid the wrapping and placed the painting in the drawer of his bedside table.

That night, Kabru slipped into bed, warm from a bath in fresh cotton pyjamas. He’d never had such comfortable sleepwear or such a large bed before arriving at the Golden Kingdom, and for that he was thankful. But it felt lonely in the large expanse of his room. He thought about Laios lying in an even bigger, even lonelier room. He took the painting out from his drawer into his left hand; it was roughly the size of a hardcover book. He slipped his right hand into his pants and breathed a sigh of relief as he let the want that had been building up inside of him all day release.

He alternated between closing his eyes and imagining running his hands down Laios’ broad shoulders, his arms, wolfskin on a bare chest, and opening them to be greeted by the gaze of the king the artist had perfected so well. Each time, it sent a jolt straight down to his crotch.

He may not be able to have Laios; but he could have this.

With a stifled moan, he finished himself off staring into the oily eyes of the king.

A cold, mid-autumn breeze rolled through the hundreds of twinkling candle lights on the castle pavilion, and Kabru was feeling bold. He was already pre-emptively blaming the flowing wine and his tight-fitting outfit – black vest on a bare chest with matching pants, a sleek cat-shaped mask on top – for whatever came next.

It was the royal Halloween masquerade ball, and Kabru was desperate to get laid.

He knew who his top choice would be – he’d been having near-nightly orgasms to the same picture for a month. He was so much more obsessed with him than he had been when he just wanted to topple him. Now he wanted to… be on top of him? But that was a pipe dream for more reasons than he could count, and Kabru felt that continuing down this infatuation would only make it worse, so – he needed to find someone else. And there was no party as perfect for a one-night stand as this: the masks, as it was subtly understood by those who needed to know, stayed on. He was sure many of the attendees – notably, not just those of the kingdom, but plenty of people from Kahka Brud – were revelling in the anonymity as much as Kabru was.

He refilled his wine at the isolated drink station he’d found and prepared to re-enter the crowd, eyes on a small group of attractive tigers and lionesses. As he was about to walk back into the party, something large and soft tapped him on the shoulder.

Kabru turned around to find a man-sized… blue lobster?

“Hey, Kabru!” said a voice from inside, though Kabru hadn’t needed it to know who it was. “Did ya recognize me?”

“Hmm, no, who is this?” he asked with a smirk, the party of big cats moving out of view in his periphery.

The lobster stopped for a moment and shimmied its head off with its oversized claws.

“It’s me!” said Laios. “Guess I got you.” His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Kabru moved to fluff Laios’ hair. “I guess you did.”

“Do you like my costume? I’m a mimic!”

“Are you sure you’re not a lobster?”

“What? No! They’re totally different species! For one, the colour is totally different – and the claws have different patterns of bumps on them, like you see this….”

Before Kabru knew it, he’d sat through a ten-minute Laios spiel on crustaceans, his wine glass was empty, and Laios was panting in a way that Kabru felt only he could find obscene.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asked.

Laios nodded. “I didn’t realize how hot it would be in this thing.”

Kabru glanced back the party on the pavilion – it was at least a hundred metres away, and there was a waist-high bush in front of them. A dangerous idea popped into Kabru’s head.

“Why don’t you take it off?” he murmured, putting on a sultry voice that Rin hated.

Laios blinked at him. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Okay!” Laios immediately started pulling off the huge lobster costume, revealing a sweat-soaked undershirt and breeches, clinging tightly to the outlines of Laios’ body.

Dinner and a show, Kabru thought. He wished Lisle could make him a painting of this.

Laios flopped down on the ground, panting from undressing, looking up at the sky. Kabru sat down and leaned on his elbow to smile at Laios, trying to meet his eyes. “Hey,” he said, in that simple, flirtatious way that always worked for him.

“Hey,” Laios said back, meeting Kabru’s eyes with a soft smile. “I like your costume.”

Kabru had a moment of anxiety – he hadn’t expected to get this far. Should he go for it? No, he definitely shouldn’t –

“Would you like to hear about the map of monster constellations I made up?” Laios asked, pulling Kabru from his thoughts.

I guess I didn’t get as far as I thought I did, and Kabru felt the strangest mix of relief and disappointment. “Sure,” he sighed, lying down next to Laios. The noise of the party was just a soft murmur from behind their hedge, and the stars twinkled bright. He let Laios indulge him in another tangent and made up for it by repositioning himself to be just slightly pressed up again him. Laios explained the different monster constellations he saw in the sky, and what he would name their various stars if he were the king of that, and how his constellations were improvements on the boring originals, and –

“Do you think there are other worlds out there?” Laios asked, wistfully.

The depth of the question surprised Kabru. “Maybe.”

“I think there are.”

“Oh?”

Laios turned his head towards Kabru, his face soft. “And if there are, I hope we’re friends there too.”

Kabru’s face went hot and he stared at Laios. Butterflies took off in his stomach.

This wasn’t… sex. It wasn’t the arousal he’d been feeling towards Laios the past two months.

He knew what it was, and he did not want to name it.

“Me too,” Kabru breathed out. Laios smiled at him like he was relieved.

“I wonder if we could be monsters together on another planet,” he said, and Kabru was distracted by his eyes.

“You’ve got a leaf in your hair,” Laios muttered. He reached out and Kabru let him take it. “When you get a leaf in your hair, you’re supposed to wish on it.”

“Who told you that?”

“Falin.” Laios paused, thinking for a moment. “Was she just making that up?”

Kabru shrugged. “Ask her,” he answered.

“That’s a good idea,” Laios said, and he sat up. The air next to Kabru immediately felt colder. He twisted to face Kabru. “Want to wish on it first, though?”

Kabru leaned forward, close enough to almost kiss Laios’ hand. “Just in case,” he smiled, and they watched the leaf fly off for a few feet.

Laios stood up without hesitation and Kabru felt left behind. Laios held out a hand for him. “Are you coming back to the party? Falin is going as the chimera, it’s awesome with her feathers. And if you haven’t seen Marcille’s costume, it’s actually pretty cool, she’s a peacock but she doesn’t know I changed the feather pattern so that she’s actually –”

“I’m going to go in,” Kabru interrupted, distracted by the emotions stirring in him.

Laios’s expression dropped. “Oh, okay.”

“Goodnight, Laios,” Kabru said, before yelping as Laios pulled him for a hug. “How much did you drink tonight?” he asked.

“Too much, probably,” Laios replied, as he let Kabru go. “Goodnight, Kabru.”

Kabru started walking towards the castle, glancing back once to see Laios wriggling himself back into his mimic costume. Seeing that he was distracted enough, Kabru changed paths and discreetly made his way towards the vendor’s area.

His favourite artist, thankfully, hadn’t begun packing up.

He was sure the look on his face was troubled, and Lisle hardly tried to make conversation. He picked out another small portrait of the king and dropped a handful of coins – more than they would have possibly charged – on the counter before storming off without a word.

That night he didn’t just imagine Laios’ body. He imagined Laios laughing into his skin; he imagined Laios kissing his neck and playing with his hair; he imagined Laios telling him how beautiful he looked, how lucky he was to have him.

With a muffled moan, he imagined Laios telling him he loved him.

It had been three months since Laios became a king, and Kabru was far gone.

He spent each agonizing day in the throne room wanting Laios, longing for him. He couldn’t sleep at night without at least looking at one of the portraits and thinking of all the things he wished he could say to Laios, the things he wanted to hear. He threw his face in his hands and groaned at his desk, not ready to face the world for the day.

It was significantly worse this past month as the holiday season rolled in. It felt like every day there was a struggling villager for Laios to extend generosity to, or a group of schoolchildren that Laios always did exceedingly well with for someone that so struggled to talk to adults, or an injured animal that Laios couldn’t help but find space for on the castle grounds. Laios was a good king – a great king – unselfish, fair, kind, and committed to his people. Kabru wanted to claim him, to be his.

As soon as the winter market opened, he found the portraitist.

He tried not to think about what he was doing, even when he knew very well what he was searching for when he entered the festival street.

“Sir Kabru,” Lisle smiled politely as soon as they saw him approach. “Happy holidays. It’s good to see you again.”

“A pleasure to be back,” Kabru replied, hoping they couldn’t see any nervousness on his face.

Lisle had prepared two paintings of the King. “I figured I might as well have extras,” they said. The second one spoke more to Kabru – it showed Laios looking into the soft distance, slightly to the side, as a holy-looking beam of light shone down on him, his face open and eyebrows ever-so-slightly furrowed. Kabru felt a shiver go down his spine.

“We’ll take both.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Kabru made it to the upper floor of the castle and was moments away from his room when Laios emerged from his chambers, dressed in a wool sweater, and breeches cut to fit him perfectly. Marcille must have brought him shopping. He smiled when he saw Kabru.

“Hey!” he called, and Kabru felt a jolt of excitement go through him when Laios placed the smallest touch on his elbow. “What have you been up to?”

“Shopping,” Kabru answered, not keen to get into a conversation while actively holding paintings of his friend that he would be using for less-than-noble purposes.

Laios glanced down at the package. “What’d you get?”

“Books.”

“Which books?”

“They’re about politics.”

“Oh. Can I see them?”

“No.” Kabru turned and marched to his room. He could feel Laios’ eyes on his back.

“Well, don’t forget about the holiday dinner tonight! We got harpy eggs imported for eggnog!”

Kabru shut the door without a word. He figured there wasn’t any harm in testing out one of the portraits before dinner.

Laios knew how to enjoy the festive season.

The dining hall was bright with candles. The grand table had been split into two halves with a full, exquisitely decorated Fraser fir between them, twinkling with tinsel and handmade ornaments.

“Can you tell which ones I made?” Laios murmured into Kabru’s ear from behind, and a warm current of arousal made its way up Kabru’s spine. He seemed to keep finding ways to sneak up on him.

“I think I can already tell,” Kabru replied with a smile, gesturing his flute of champagne towards a couple of the highly detailed monsters decorating the tree.

Laios was red from the eggnog and was watching Kabru unabashedly. “Do you like them?” he asked.

“I guess I can appreciate the artistry,” Kabru laughed. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he was increasingly finding Laios’ earnest love for them endearing. “I like the treasure insects. How’d you get them to be so shiny?”

“Oh, those are real gold!” Laios laughed. Kabru stared at him agape. “I just attached legs.”

“Did thievery just, not occur to you?” Kabru asked, floored.

Laios pondered the question for a moment. “Well, I guess not. I mean, who would want to steal that?”

“Most people?” Kabru replied. “Or at least, a lot?”

“Hm. Well, if they look like treasure bugs, shouldn’t that be enough protection? People know that treasure bugs are just bugs.”

“No, Laios, other people usually don’t know that.” He tried not to laugh. Why, why was this so adorable to him? Had he lost his mind?

“Oh.”

They paused for a moment, arms so close they were just brushing, admiring the tree together. It was a moving representation of all they’d accomplished the past few months; there were ornaments gifted from dozens of families, and they were going to move it out to the castle courtyard for the winter festival week tomorrow.

One ornament farther up the tree caught Kabru’s eye, and he nudged Laios’ elbow with his own and pointed at it. “Was Falin okay with you making that model of the chimera?” he asked.

“Of course!” Laios seemed surprised with the question. “She actually helped me with it! Marcille was a bit upset, though.”

Kabru was sure that was an understatement and laughed.

“I thought about adding blood and the stab wounds you gave her that one time but Marcille forbade us.”

Kabru reeled at the sudden recollection of that day. “Why would you want to remember that?”

 “You were fearless in that fight,” he said, eyes locked onto Kabru’s and his expression serious. “You thought quickly and were brave, and you did your best to save your party and ours. I think that’s something to be proud of.”

Kabru flushed. He didn’t know what to say; he hadn’t been expecting such a touching answer. “If you say so,” he managed to breathe out, staring into Laios’ eyes for another moment before turning away his gaze. He realized that Lisle missed the freckles that dotted a few spots on his face. He wanted to touch them, like how he could run his fingers against the defined strokes of his paintings. He swallowed.

“I’m going to go refill my champagne,” he muttered and walked away.

Kabru was a mess when he was drunk.

He’d been avoiding Laios since their talk at the tree.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off him whenever they were in the same vicinity, and watching Laios laugh jovially, wrapping his arms around people, spreading warmth through the room took the words out of Kabru’s mouth in a way that scared him. He drowned his desire with more champagne, which in turn was only making him more miserable.

Laios started spinning around some aristocratic young lady, then whispered in her ear and started showing off what Kabru could only assume was a bird-like monster’s mating dance and Kabru had to leave the room.

He stumbled from the hall, lively and bright, into the hallway, devoid of life and imbued with an early winter chill. Lit only by moonlight, he started making his way up the stairs to his floor, only to trip halfway. He caught his fall, turned to sit on the steps, and began drunk crying into his knees.

Kabru was falling in love with Laios Touden.

The fact of this beat in his heart like a drum and he continued to cry, occasionally burping up extra champagne bubbles.

He was ruining his own life for something less achievable than conquering a dungeon: conquering their clueless and most definitely unavailable king.

He felt like an ant. Maybe Laios would like me more as an ant, he thought dejectedly. He would notice me more. But Kabru could never be an ant. He could only be a tall-man. He threw his head in his hands and wept.

After a few minutes of this, Kabru was interrupted by a small, almost unheard “hey.”

He looked up to find Marcille standing in front of him, looking elegant as ever in a red gown embroidered with gold. She must have seen him leave and snuck up on him while he was distracted. He was surprised she’d noticed him leaving; anytime he’d seen her that evening, she’d been pre-occupied following around Falin like a lovesick puppy.

“Hi,” Kabru sniffled.

“Can I sit?” she asked.

Kabru really, really did not want her to sit. “Okay,” he said.

Marcille left little room between them and lifted her hands as if to hug Kabru. He obliged and leaned into her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around him. It was uncomfortable for both of them; they’d really only spoken only as colleagues so far and were both still a bit wary of each other. But all Kabru wanted in that moment was to be held.

After a minute, Marcille broke the silence. “Can I ask?”

“No,” Kabru said firmly.

“Okay. You can talk to me, though.”

“I’m not going to.”

Marcille blinked at his bluntness; he was usually more polite than this.

After another moment, he added, softly, “I could never be an ant.”

“Okay,” she said as she looked at him strangely. They sat in silence for another pause. Kabru murmured her a “thank you”.

He could feel her smile against the top of his head. “I knew there had to be some genuine emotions going on down there.”

“Thankfully I had a breakdown right on time.”

Marcille breathed out a laugh. “You’re funny.”

“Not usually.”

“Maybe you should be. You don’t have to be so serious all the time.”

Kabru rubbed his face. “Please don’t lecture me right now.”

Marcille rubbed his back. “You still don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked, clearly itching for an answer.

“No.”

She sighed. “Is it anything I can help with?”

“No. I’m fine.” Kabru wiped his eyes one last time and stood up. He turned his eyes down. “Thank you for your help. I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Are you sure? We’ll miss you at the party if you leave.”

Kabru couldn’t help his voice from shaking. “I can’t.”

Marcille just studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But can you promise me something?”

He turned slightly to face her. “That depends.”

“Can you promise to talk to me more? We’re in this for the long haul. I don’t want to keep feeling like a stranger.”

Kabru paused and nodded. “I can do that.”

Marcille smiled.

“Thank you, again.”

She nodded.

“Goodnight, Marcille.”

“Goodnight.”

In bed, Kabru held his new portrait, still in its wrapping, light against his chest, registering it going up and down as he breathed until he drifted off to sleep.

Kabru woke to soft winter light streaming in through his window and a knock at his door.

He figured, dazedly, that it must be castle staff coming to wake him. As soon as he rolled over and his feet touched the floor, his head filled with the pain of a hangover and his stomach with nausea. One hand on his abdomen, he shuffled over to the door, and felt his organs drop when he opened it to find Laios waiting for him.

It’s a festival day, he thought. The staff are off.

“You look terrible!” Laios said, straightforward as ever. “How much did you drink last night?”

“Too much,” Kabru replied.

“Marcille told me I should check up on you in the morning.”

“She told you that?”

“Yeah. I didn’t even notice you were drunk! I guess I was too… did you have any of the harpy eggnog? It was delicious.”

Kabru grimaced and made his way back to bed, back to being horizontal. “Please don’t talk to me about alcohol right now.”

“Whoops.” Laios was drunk last night, and Kabru did not understand how he was so chipper this early in the morning. “Can I bring you some water?”

As much as Kabru wanted to get Laios as far, far away from him as he could right now, he was also pathetic, and agreed.

“Okay! I’ll be back in two flaps of a phoenix’s wing --!” Laios called as he shut the door and left.

I hope he never comes back and this hangover kills me, Kabru thought.

The next thing he knew, he was being woken by another knock at the door. How long had he been out, had Laios come back? He felt so awful, he didn’t have the energy to stand again. “Hello?” he called out.

“It’s me! Can I come in?” Laios answered from the other side of the door.

Laios sat himself on his bed with a loaded tray, and Kabru’s heart started beating harder. “I’m sorry that took so long. I got a bit carried away. I started with water, and I got you a jug, but then I realized I should probably get you some carbs to settle your stomach, and a protein drink to help with recovery, and that took a while but now we’re here.”

Kabru hesitantly sat up to find a beautifully presented hangover recovery tray, and downed a glass of water before he could even begin to process what was happening.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Laios chastised him. “Having fun is important, but you can have fun without sacrificing your health!”

Kabru looked up at him with what he was sure was a case of awful, sweaty bedhead and dreadful eyebags. He hated that Laios was seeing him like this. “How are you in such a good mood this morning?”

“I drank a lot of water before bed!” Laios answered cheerfully. “Also, I don’t really get hangovers that often.”

“Lucky,” Kabru answered, picking up the dark green concoction Laios had prepared for them to see. “What is this?”

“It’s Senshi and I’s famous hangover cure! It has cured slime, brine from pickling giant frog meat, two raw harpy eggs and lots of leafy greens.”

Kabru held down the contents of his stomach and gave Laios one of his most withering looks. “You expect me to drink this?”

Laios panicked for a moment. “I know it doesn’t sound that appealing, but it’s not that bad.”

“I don’t trust that coming from you.” He wasn’t usually this blunt with Laios, but he was too hungover to care.

“It really works, though!” Laios looked panicked to have Kabru reject his drink. “Here, let me help you.”

Laios took the drink from Kabru in one hand and lifted Kabru’s chin with the finger of his other to meet his eyes. He brought the drink to Kabru’s mouth and slowly started pouring it in.

Kabru felt frozen in place. His mind went numb, and he closed his eyes to follow Laios’ lead.

The drink was horrendous. He drank the entirety of it in silence, being fed carefully by Laios.

And yet somehow Kabru felt the drink settle in his stomach and calm relief flowed through his bones. The ache in his brained ebbed.

“Marcille enchanted it with a bit of healing mana, too,” Laios admitted with a smile. He wiped the top of Kabru’s lip and Kabru almost kissed it on instinct.

He didn’t know what to say besides “thank you”.

“Of course,” Laios replied. “I can’t have you suffer. Who else is going to help me navigate this place?”

“Marcille,” Kabru replied, letting his insecurity – as minor as it was – slip.

Laios looked a bit sheepish. “Marcille is amazing in so many ways,” Laios said. “But I couldn’t get through this place without you, too.”

Kabru blushed. This morning was both his dream and his nightmare.

“You’re really special, Kabru,” Laios said, and Kabru saw him – saw him looking at his mouth. Maybe he still had some of the smoothie on his face. “I’m really thankful you’ve stuck around with us here.” He turned his gaze towards his lap. “I was scared at first that you would get too annoyed with me and leave.”

Kabru leaned forward to take Laios’ hand out of instinct. “No, Laios, I –” I love you is what he wanted to say, but he stopped himself. “I’m so thankful to be here. This is the fullest my life has ever been. I’m so glad to be by your side, and I don’t want to leave…” ever, he thought, “…anytime soon.”

Laios smiled. “I hope you never leave, Kabru.”

Kabru felt his heart squeeze. They let their words hang in the air and Kabru sipped on some more water.

“I should probably get going,” Laios said as he rose. “But please let me know if you need anything, okay? I want to be here for you like how you’re always there for me.”

Kabru smiled at him. He wanted to pull Laios back into his bed. “You’ve already done more than you know, Laios. Thank you.”

After the door shut, Kabru covered his face with his hands. He tried to ignore what felt like hope in his chest. He was already far gone enough as it was; he couldn’t let himself get to the point of deluding himself. He needed to be stronger than that.

But he let himself enjoy the warmth that Laios’ presence had had. Even if he could never have him… maybe these moments with Laios could be enough.

“Is Kabru coming?” Marcille asked when Laios entered the throne room.

“I don’t think so.” Laios flopped onto his royal seat. As part of their winter festivities, they were about to open the castle doors for guided tours. Marcille would be bringing groups through the library and gallery. Laios was less than pleased at being stuck to sit in his chairs saying hello and goodbye to people all day, especially without Kabru to keep him company. “He was pretty ill when I went up there, I think he needs the day off.”

Marcille hummed. She was still dying to know what had upset Kabru last night. He was one of the most composed, careful people she’d ever met. She couldn’t imagine what could have him acting so broken. It was like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

“You’ll be okay on your own here for the day? I’m sorry you’ll be on your own.”

Laios groaned. “It’s going to be so boring.”

“But it’s only for a few hours, and then you get to have a great lunch and an even better dinner.”

Laios nodded. “I guess I’ll survive. Good luck with the tours,” he said, and Marcille left to find her first group.

The tours were fun, and she was happy to get to interact with more of the townsfolk. They were very kind people, even if some were still slightly wary of her.

On one of her last tours for the day, a villager came up to her – some sort of merchant or artisan based on the clothes – during their exploration time in the gallery. They did a small curtesy for Marcille and stared at their feet shily before speaking. “Lady Marcille, I just had a quick question. I’m the portraitist, Lisle Fael. I was wondering where I might be able to find the portraits of the king you’ve purchased?”

Marcille gave the artist a blank look. “My apologies, what paintings?”

This struck a look of terror on the artist’s face. “I’m – so sorry, my lady. I thought – the other royal advisor has purchased a few portraits of the King from me. He said they were to be hung in the gallery.”

Oh? Marcille pretended – and largely failed – to not be shocked by this information.

“How many paintings, exactly, has Kabru collected at this point?” she squeaked.

“Three, my lady.”

“And they’re all of King Laios?”

“Indeed, my lady.”

“Could you remind me when the first one was purchased?”

“About three months ago, my Lady.”

Marcille nodded and bit her lip before she gave anything else away. “They must still be in the process of being framed. We’ve had an influx of canvasses lately. I apologize that they have not found their way onto our walls already; I’m sure they are beautiful.”

“That’s very well, my lady,” said the artist. “I apologize for the confusion.”

“No apologies necessary,” Marcille muttered, her mind reeling as the artist walked away. It felt she’d been tripped. She found Falin as soon as the tours were done for the day.

Marcille started speaking before she’d finished running up to her. They were at the edge of the grounds, where garden met forest. “I need to tell you something,” she panted, and Falin smiled at her.

“I picked you some berries,” Falin smiled, holding out a small wicker basket.

Marcille took them one-by-one as she sat down at the base of a tree and patted the ground for Falin to join her.

“I found out something crazy today.” She paused in anticipation as Falin watched her. “I think Kabru is secretly buying paintings of your brother.”

Falin’s eyes widened in surprise, for a moment. “That’s weird.”

“I don’t understand why,” Marcille elaborated. “He could just be buying them to put in the gallery. But the artist said it had been three months. And he hasn’t mentioned anything to me. And he also got three of them. At different points.”

“That’s really strange.”

“Do you think he’s using them for magic or something? Is he secretly trying to curse Laios, or influence him?” Marcille’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t think Kabru needs magic to influence Laios,” Falin joked, “And I don’t think his mana is strong enough for that anyway.”

“He could be sending them to a more experienced mage,” she rebutted, but it didn’t feel right.

“I know he’s a bit fussy sometimes, but I think he genuinely cares about Laios,” Falin said, pausing. Falin already had an idea about Kabru before the paintings, but she wasn’t sure Marcille was ready for that quite yet.

They kept sitting together, watching the winter sunset, Marcille muttering to herself. “Your hands look cold,” Falin noticed, and took one in her own, which broke Marcille’s thoughts with a blush. “My body temperature is still pretty warm all the time,” Falin explained softly, even though they both knew Marcille knew that already. “I don’t want you to freeze.”

Marcille wanted to kiss her. She looked so beautiful in the soft blue light, and Marcille wanted to remember how she looked here forever –

Oh.

Marcille was watching Kabru.

She had been watching him a lot lately.

After her conversation with the portraitist last month, Marcille reflected long and hard on the way Kabru acted around Laios. She’d always thought he acted with him the way he did with anyone else: charming, interested, impressive. She also knew he was a good actor.

Thankfully for her, she was an expert at romantic dramas. She knew all the signs to look for.

Each look of his that was a bit too wistful, a bit too long. Each time he leaned in a bit too close to Laios, who would never notice such a thing. How every time Laios touched him, even for a moment, he seemed to hold onto and remember that spot for minutes afterwards.

And Kabru still had not mentioned anything about the portraits.

Marcille was ready to be entirely convinced; but she wanted one more piece of evidence.

When Kabru gave a vague excuse for going into town over breakfast one morning of that cold, mid-winter month – an excuse that Laios, of course, would never take note of, and that had probably gone over head a few times before – she saw her chance.

“Are you looking for company, Kabru? I have some things I need to pick up from town as well,” she said with a smile.

Kabru flushed; he hadn’t been expecting her to want to come. “It’s really not worth the trouble, Marcille,” he said. “It’s dreadful out there, I can pick up what you need if you give me a list.”

“I’m very particular about my soaps,” she replied. “And it would be nice to have some quality time together, would it not?”

Kabru had no choice. “I suppose we can go together,” he said, barely hiding his irritation.

“This bacon is delicious,” Laios commented, tuned out to everything else.

After breakfast, the pair donned their Barometz wool-lined cloaks and dragon-leather boots and took their horses into town.

“What exactly are you going into town for today, Kabru?” Marcille asked innocently.

“Nothing much, really,” Kabru answered – already having given up on his original task of collecting another painting like the maniac he felt himself becoming. “Just checking in on the local businesses.”

“All the trouble of going into town on a day like today for that?” she asked, her voice lilting like she was in a poor theatre performance. “Surely there must be something you were looking for?” The charade was atrocious, and a mortifying fear entered the pit of Kabru’s stomach. Does she somehow know about the paintings? he thought. There’s no way. I’ve been careful.

“Maybe we can shop around a bit,” he tried to amend.

Marcille didn’t know what to say next, and they took the rest of their ride into town in silence.

After an hour in an aromatic boutique smelling and picking out soaps, oils, and fragrances, which Marcille fawned over but gave Kabru nothing but a headache, they continued to meander down the busy commercial streets of their growing town. Once they’d gotten past their concerning conversation on the way in, they’d had a pleasant rest of the morning together. Kabru found Marcille easier to get along with than he’d expected; she had some serious brains for magic and was passionate about the work she did, which he could respect.

That was until she got a gleam in her eye and began pushing him towards a shop around the corner. “Oh, I’ve heard great things about this place!”

He read the sign a moment too late: Lisle Fael Portraits.

His stomach dropped for the second time that day.

Kabru was about to be had.

It was rare for him to be on the receiving end of these sorts of coups – he was usually the one pulling social strings to his liking. And yet somehow Marcille had gotten him. In any other circumstance, he may have been impressed.

But for now, he wanted to run out of the shop and directly into the forest, never to return.

“Helloo--!” Marcille called brightly as a bell rung and they tumbled into the shop. Kabru remained glued to the doormat as Marcille made her way in. Lisle shuffled out of the back of the store and jumped when they saw them, immediately dropping into a curtesy. “Your – my lady, Sir Kabru! My apologies, I wasn’t expecting you!”

“We’re the ones who dropped in on you,” Marcille giggled, evilly giddy. She walked up to the counter and grinned at Lisle. “We were just wondering if you had any recent portraits of the king to sell? Your eye for them without him sitting for them is most impressive. We should have you come in officially sometime.” Every sentence sent Kabru further into despair.

Lisle bowed their head. “Many thanks, my lady.” They peeked their eyes up inquisitively. “I just recently finished the commission that was ordered earlier this month, if that’s what you were looking for?” Both advisors blinked.

“Commission?” Marcille asked. She had been certain Kabru hadn’t seen the artist since the winter party; she thought she’d been keeping a close eye on him. Was he really that sneaky?

Kabru was. He’d been back a few days after the party, giving in to this fixation of his like an addiction he couldn’t rid himself of. But he hadn’t ordered a commission. He’d just –

“Sir Kabru mentioned some missing freckles last time we spoke, so I figured that was a request to create an improved portrait,” Lisle answered, unaware of the way they were ruining Kabru’s life.

Marcille gasped and immediately turned to stare Kabru down with a cheshire grin. “Missing freckles, you say? Well, that is an essential part of the portrait that can’t be missed!”

Kabru regretted not bring a sword to impale himself with.

“My – my apologies, my Lady,” Lisle quivered, terrified of retribution for warping the king’s precious facial features.

This snapped Marcille back to reality however briefly, and she quickly apologized to Lisle. “No – nothing to apologize for. Our advisor, here, just likes to take great care that our portraits are as accurate as possible.”

Lisle nodded and excused themself to retrieve the painting.

It better not be nude, Marcille thought. She turned to Kabru, and with the excitement of the catch dying down, noticed that his hands were trembling, and he still hadn’t stepped off the doormat, like a frightened puppy. His pupils had gone small, and he looked terrified.

Guilt washed over Marcille. Had she gone too far? Was she an awful friend? She’d been treating this like an arc in Dalitan Clan, and it suddenly clicked that this was real life. That for Kabru to go to these lengths to have pieces of Laios, pieces that were his – that went deep. Deeper than maybe she should be seeing right now. She did not want to see this painting.

Lisle came back with a cloth-covered canvas much larger than the ones Kabru had collected before. It was a full-size portrait; he’d have needed to keep it under his bed, not that that was an option anymore.

“Would you like to see it now?” Lisle asked.

Both parties paused. Marcille wanted to say that they would save it for when they got back to the castle, but before she could, Kabru steeled himself. The only thing he hated more than having his secret all-consuming pining for Laios put on display by his coworker was being impolite.

“Let’s see it,” he said, like an admission, as he stepped up towards the counter.

Marcille was shocked by the accuracy of the image as Lisle uncovered the canvas. It was like Laios was right there with them – his gaze slightly downcast, lost in thought, his features defined yet soft, hair wisping gently in a breeze, backdropped by the rolling hills of the kingdom and its castle in dappled, soft afternoon light.

“It’s beautiful,” Kabru admitted, and Marcille stopped in her tracks when she saw the look on Kabru’s face.

She’d never seen him so taken with something before – he touched the edge of the canvas like it was something fragile, running his index finger along it. He stared into the eyes of the painting like he was trying to tell it something.

Marcille deeply regretted forcing Kabru to show her this side of himself.

“Do – do you like it?” Lisle asked Marcille nervously.

Marcille tore her eyes from Kabru to force a smile at Lisle. “Yes – it’s wonderful, Lisle. Your best work yet. How much do we owe you?”

As soon as they stepped out of the store, crated painting in hand, Marcille stopped, and Kabru turned to face her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly and ashamed. “I – I didn’t think. I didn’t realize. I don’t know what to say.” She wrapped her arms around herself, avoiding looking at Kabru. “I shouldn’t have seen that. You didn’t want me to. I’m sorry.”

Something like relief washed over Kabru. He’d been more afraid than anything that Marcille would mock him, would reject him, would hate him, would tell on him. And he was the king of getting to the bottom of things. He couldn’t very well blame her for thinking just like him.

“How did you find out about them?” was all he asked.

Marcille explained the conversation in the gallery when Kabru had been sick.

He laughed smally at the coincidence of it all. “I guess it couldn’t be avoided forever. Someone was bound to find out. At least it was you,” he said. “Can I trust you?”

“Yes – of course, I won’t tell anyone.”

Kabru nodded and almost cracked a grin. “I know you’ll tell Falin,” he said, and Marcille blushed without denying it. “Just please don’t tell anyone else.” She nodded.

They started back down the road. His secret weighed tiredly in his chest, and he wanted to feel the relief of sharing it with another. After a moment, he said, “That’s why I was crying that night, you know.”

Marcille’s breath caught for a moment. “Because you… like him?”

Kabru paused. “I’m in love with him,” Kabru confessed, and Marcille almost tripped.

After a pause, she admitted, “I know what it’s like to pine after someone.” She hadn’t seen Falin in two weeks – off exploring a faraway dungeon – and obsessing over Kabru had been one of the few things to get her mind off it.

“Is it really pining if it’s requited, though?” Kabru murmured.

Marcille snapped her head at him. “What do you mean?”

“I know Falin can be as strange as Laios, but it’s quite obvious, how she looks at you.”

Marcille huffed. “Sometimes I convince myself of that too. But I don’t know what to do about it. I’m too much of a coward.”

“Have you tried telling her how you feel?” Kabru asked, half joking.

“Have you?”

“Stop avoiding the question.”

Marcille sighed. “It’s scary.”

“Well, I’m not saying anything until you do,” Kabru gave a small smile, and squeezed Marcille’s hand.

She nodded and squeezed back. “You’re pretty fun, you know.”

“I know,” Kabru said, trying to force out his usual charisma. “You’re alright, I guess.”

Marcille gave a laugh and side eyed Kabru. “I could really use someone to talk to about this, you know, since Laios is pretty useless about this stuff,” she mumbled.

Kabru laughed. “Is that an invitation?”

“To bond over being lovestruck by the Toudens, yes,” she smiled.

“That works for me.”

They made their way back to the castle in a comfortable silence.

Three months later, the kingdom was clouded in almost two weeks of cloud and rain and tulips began poking shily out of the ground. Kabru ignored giggling from Marcille’s room as he walked down to breakfast. He found Laios already there, working through a full plate, open book with diagrams of monsters and loose notes poking out of the sides next to it.

Laios smiled when he greeted Kabru and beckoned him to sit down with him. Kabru had just had his coffee poured when Laios flew into a tangent about what he was reading, and Kabru smiled and listened, not having to worry about hiding the longing and tenderness in his eyes, knowing that Laios was lost in his own world.

His monologue was interrupted by Falin and Marcille, who made their entrance holding hands. They were still in their sickening honeymoon phase a month in. Marcille grinned when she saw them. “Am I interrupting anything?” she joked with an implication.

It was a little ridiculous how much they could talk about it without Laios catching on.

Not that that made Kabru feel any better in the long run, but it was amusing for the moment when it happened.

“Nope! I was just telling Kabru about the book I’m reading,” Laios answered.

“Haven’t you read that one already?” Marcille asked when she looked at it.

“A few times! But there’s always more knowledge to glean.”

Marcille sat across from Kabru and kept giving him a look. They stayed behind when Falin and Laios got up to leave; they had plans to explore around the forests bordering the castle grounds that morning, even if they knew they wouldn’t find any monsters.

“So,” Marcille started, twirling her fingers against the table after the doors had shut behind the Toudens, and Kabru had a feeling what was coming next. As much as he had been glad for her friendship these past few months – they had gotten significantly closer, and it made the pain of everything else much lighter – he was still not keen on her meddling. “I’ve held up my end of the deal.”

“What deal?” Kabru mused, pretending to read a letter he couldn’t care less about, knowing exactly what Marcille was referring to.

She frowned at him. “You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I confessed to Falin.”

“Congratulations.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

Kabru smiled. “No way.”

“But you promised!”

“I did no such thing.” He did enjoy getting to mess with Marcille by being purposefully obtuse to her meddling. She was cute when she was frustrated.

She flustered. “Are you just going to pine after him forever like some melancholic poet?” she accused him.

Kabru looked up from his letters to meet her eyes, daring her with a smirk. “Why not?”

“Because it’s pathetic and sad and you could be so happy!”

“You’re only saying that because it worked out for you.”

“And who’s to say it won’t work out for you too?”

“Me.” Kabru bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. He was going to make Marcille work for this.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m not impossible,” Kabru sighed. “He’s impossible.”

Marcille leaned her head on her hand, unable to argue with that. “You won’t know unless you try.”

“Guess I’ll never try.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Kabru looked at her like she was stupid. “I get rejected by the person I’m in love with, who is also my boss, who also provides my housing, essentially ending my career and rendering me homeless?”

“Laios would never do that.”

“Maybe,” Kabru clicked. “But you asked what the worst that could happen was.”

Marcille groaned. This guy was so difficult. “Pleaseeeeeee –”

He laughed.

“What do I need to say to convince you?” she asked, soft and earnest. She really did want this to work out for them – even though she understood it was different than with her and Falin. Laios clearly cared about Kabru; but they all knew he was dense as a rock about this stuff.

“Maybe I don’t need convincing,” admitted Kabru, feeling honest. “Maybe I just need time.”

As spring turned to summer, Marcille was becoming increasingly concerned for Kabru.

“I think you’re getting too comfortable,” she confessed to him, while they took a walk together through the castle gardens, gentle flowers brimming with colours.

“Comfortable with what?” Kabru asked.

“With Laios.” She paused. “You’re so bold about flirting with him, but you have no intention of actually telling him how you feel.”

“I thought we talked about not rushing.”

“It’s been almost a year. Doesn’t Laios deserve to know?”

Kabru kicked the pebble in front of him. “That sounds like a him problem,” he said, petulantly. Marcille sighed. They both saw Kabru’s frustration eating away at his rationality with each passing month, and she decided to try again with him another day.

A week after their talk, Marcille’s words were still irking him. As much as he hated to admit that was she was right, she was right.

Kabru felt like he was almost dating Laios at this point, without Laios even realizing it.

He made his flirty eyes at him; he smiled coyly; ran his hands down Laios’ arms whenever he had the chance; one time, he played footsie with him under the table after too many glasses of wine.

But Laios never seemed to understand his signals, and Kabru couldn’t know if these moments were savoured or stolen, desired or forgettable.

Kabru accepted that for the past however many months, he had been easing himself into never knowing.

His heart was tired. He was exhausted of pining, of fantasizing, of feeling delusional. He felt his idea of Laios was split in two: the one he had in reality, goofy and strong and utterly ignorant, and the Laios he kept in his paintings, goofy and strong and also in love with him. Kabru saw it in Laios’ eyes that Kabru meant something to him – he felt the pull between them. But a part of Kabru was convinced that if he had to explain that to Laios, if he had to draw the picture for him, then it must not be real.

Back in his room, Kabru took out his most recent portrait of Laios, out of the eight he’d collected by that point. His first few had the edges worn off from touching them too much. Another one had a punch torn through it from a night when Kabru was feeling particularly frustrated. The newest was a full-body painting of him at the dragon festival again, in his old armor. Lisle must have had sketches left over from that time to work off. It had been almost a year, and Kabru was feeling nostalgic.

He wished he’d kissed Laios then, before all this friendship and mutual reliance got in the way of everything.

He should have brought Laios to the edge of the festival one night, everyone satiated and a little drunk, and told him one more time what an incredible leader he was. He should have stared at his mouth the way he unabashedly did now, now that he knew it didn’t matter. Laios would have been surprised at Kabru’s boldness, and the thought excited him. He should have told Laios that he was handsome, run his hand down his cheek, maybe Laios would have taken it and held it. He imagined saying, “I’m going to kiss you know,” forward and intimate, and Laios would see what was right in front of him, closed his eyes, and kiss him back.

Kabru sighed. It hardly even turned him on anymore. It just made him feel sad and pathetic.

The most agonizing desire was Laios feeling comfortable enough to kiss him first, to want him without prompting. He fantasized about Laios kissing him when they woke up, kissing him in the hallway, he imagined Laios pulling him into an embrace against the railings of the castle. He imagined Laios not being to hold back, breaking composure, tongue in his mouth and forcing them to be quiet as he put his hands between Kabru’s thighs –

Kabru gave in and put a hand between his legs. His heart was heavy.

I love you so much, Kabru, he imagined Laios whispering into his ear, behind that bush from the masquerade party, one of his mind’s favourite places to go to. I want you right here. Kabru’s breath hitched, and he pushed the painting against the mattress, out of sight.

Kabru didn’t think about logistics, didn’t think about reality, when he got to this part of his fantasy. His breathing and his hand sped up as he thought about the feeling of Laios undressing him, running his hands down his body, taking him and fucking him. He imagined Laios moaning into his neck. Kabru, Kabru, you’re so good, I love you, I want you, I’m going to –

Kabru shoved his face in his pillow as he came. After coming back down, he turned onto his back, to his big empty bed and the frozen eyes of the painting beside him.

One too-hot summer evening, Kabru opened a letter confirming a dinner at the castle with an important industry family in Kahka Brud. It was standard aristocratic flattery, until Kabru reached one line that poked out at him like a blade in the ground: We are pleased to be bringing along our daughter, who is eligible.

Kabru told himself it was the boldness of their words that bothered him, but he knew that was a thinly veiled cover of the truth. He showed Marcille the letter wordlessly, and she immediately knew what Kabru wanted her notice. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s not like any marriage candidates can get through you first,” Marcille said cheekily.

“I’m very particular about who we accept into the court,” Kabru joked back, trying to convince himself that it was nothing to worry about, despite his heart telling him otherwise. “The king’s match must be perfect,” he sighed.

“I think we may have found an individual for the position already,” Marcille played along.

Kabru smiled as Laios entered the room a moment later. He peered down to read the letter, face-up in the middle of the table. “What do they mean by ‘eligible’? Do they want to find her a husband here? They’d probably have more luck staying in Kahka Brud,” Laios said. “We’ve only got farmers here.”

Farmers and kings, Kabru thought, and kept that to himself as his heart steadied.

It seemed to still be bothering Laios, so he sat down next to Kabru with their knees touching and placed his head in his hand. “You know, I used to be engaged.”

Kabru was not sure he wanted to know where this conversation was going. “I did know that.”

“I’m glad it didn’t work out, though.”

Kabru let himself smile a bit, and Marcille watched them nervously. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t think we would have gotten along. It takes a special person for me to be friends with.”

“You want to be friends with who you marry, then?” Kabru’s eyes were piercing his.

Laios’ eyebrows jumped up. “Of course, Kabru! You don’t?”

Kabru shifted, trying to keep his composure. “Of course I’d like to. But some people just see it as business.”

“I think that’s how I used to see it. I think a lot of marriages in the North are like that. I’m glad here, people care more about liking the person you marry.”

Marcille was slack-jawed at this conversation, conflicted with wanting to warn Kabru to tread carefully, and desperate to see where this would go.

“What kind of person would you like to marry, Laios?” Kabru asked softly, heart pounding in his chest, and Marcille froze.

Laios thought for a moment, and his hands drifted to start fiddling with the end of Kabru’s sleeve, something he often did. “I don’t know. I don’t think about it much. Someone I get along with, I guess. Who doesn’t mind my quirks, and maybe she’s a bit funny too. But honestly, I already have you guys and Falin to talk to all day, so I don’t know why I’d even need to get married at all. I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”

Kabru wished he could’ve written Laios’ words down so he could study them later. He felt both comforted and shot down. Marcille seemed equally confused.

Laios broke the silence that had grown to ask what the menu for their dinner would be, and Kabru’s mind raced as Marcille answered him. He’s not going to marry anyone else any time soon, at least, he thought to himself. But, he remembered for the thousandth time, he’s also not going to marry me.

Kabru excused himself. Marcille’s eyes followed him as he left. He felt a tremor in his hands and headed for his bedroom.

Kabru took a shaky breath once inside the safety of his bedroom. This is ridiculous and hopeless, he thought. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep living like this. His feelings, rather than being numbed by time this past year and the futility of his desires, had only gotten stronger, were only getting stronger. He could hardly focus around Laios, but focussing on him was his job, his duty. He was stuck. He wanted to escape.

Marcille found him ten minutes later.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“I need to spend less time around him,” Kabru said, forlorn. “This just keeps getting worse. I feel hopeless.”

“And you’re still not going to tell him how you feel.”

Kabru wanted to pull his hair out. “It won’t do any good. I’d just feel like I was forcing him into it.”

“I think you’re being pessimistic.”

“Every time I see him, I just want to kiss him.”

“Gross.” Marcille poked at him. “Why don’t you? He’s a man of action.”

Kabru groaned and took his head in his hands. He knew Marcille was, probably, at least half joking. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even if it meant losing Laios, some desperate creature inside him started telling him that he might as well try. It’s not like he hadn’t lost already.

Later that month, the kingdom watched as a massive summer storm began rolling in over their green hills. Inside the castle, the royal court cancelled all visitations for the rest of the day, deciding instead to take a much-needed afternoon off.

Kabru still felt on the verge of frenzy, and that was before Laios asked him if he would spend the stormy afternoon with him in his room. In the darkening halls of the castle, Laios’ face was lit only dimly from the vanishing light outside. “I have a pretty cool view from my window, and there’s the balcony if we want to stand outside.”

“Okay,” Kabru replied.

Laios beamed. “Great! I have a bunch of ideas. We’ll have such a fun afternoon!”

Kabru smiled and went along with him. They raided the kitchen for a frankly ridiculous amount of snacks – not that Laios would have any difficulty getting through them – and Laios moved the couch in his room in front of the fireplace, lighting a small fire. He set up an ottoman for their footrest. He brought a pile of blankets and pillows.

“I was thinking we could have a cozy rainy day!” Laios said, showing Kabru the finished set up, and Kabru couldn’t believe how unbelievable this man was.

After a few hours of reading, snacking, and listening to the fireplace and the rain, Kabru dozed off on the couch, warm from his proximity to Laios. When he woke up, he realized he was curled up against his side under the blankets, using his arm as a pillow.

“Hey,” Laios breathed, and his face was so close to Kabru’s that he could feel his breath on his cheek. His hand curled around to gently move a lock of hair out of Kabru’s eyes.

He could almost believe they were in love, and Kabru had never wanted to kiss him so badly.

“I think the thunder woke you up,” Laios was almost whispering with how close they were, and he didn’t seem to register that Kabru had been staring at his mouth this entire time.

Kabru couldn’t restrain himself for another moment longer.

“I want to kiss you,” he breathed, and the world paused for too long.

Laios’ eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t move. “What?”

Something shifted. This wasn’t right. In his fantasies, he’d be kissing Laios by this point. But they were just looking at each other, frozen, awkward, confused.

Kabru extricated himself from Laios with a jerk, and Laios rolled his shoulder as he brought his arm back to his side.

“I’m sorry,” was all Kabru could say. He had his hands on his knees and was staring at his feet, feeling Laios’ eyes on his. “Forget I said anything.”

“I didn’t realize,” Laios breathed, lost in thought, and out the corner of his eye Kabru could see worry painted across his face. His features were soft in the dim light of the room. “I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Kabru said coldly, trying to steady himself. “It was my mistake. I shouldn’t have said anything.” His voice broke, and he stood up to leave.

Laios grabbed him by the hand before he could get past the couch. “No, Kabru, don’t go,” he said, deep and honest. Kabru stopped to look at him, feeling one rebellious tear making its way down his cheek. Laios watched him for a moment, looking heartbroken and lost. “Do you – do you like me? Is that what this is?”

Kabru knew he was going to regret what he said next, but he couldn’t resist it, after all these months, after this year. “Did you really not notice any of it? None of it mattered to you?” he whispered, and Laios’ expression broke a bit.

“I didn’t think of it that way. I’m so sorry, Kabru.”

“Do you even like me?” his voice quivered.

“Of course!” Laios raised his voice. “You’re one of my closest friends, Kabru,” he said, trying to make him feel better, but Kabru only looked more upset.

“That’s not what I mean,” he said.

“I – I don’t know. I’ve never – I’ve never thought about it like that.”

“I’m so stupid,” Kabru breathed to himself, and Laios couldn’t remember the last time that he felt this awful. He added his left hand to clasp Kabru’s.

“Can I just have some time to think about it? I don’t… I don’t want to shoot you down.”

Kabru was so tired of being patient, of waiting for something that would never happen. “I’ve loved you for months, Laios. I can’t wait anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

The words were like a slap in the face to Laios. “I…”

“I’m going to leave now.” Kabru pulled his hand away from Laios’ and escaped out of the too-warm, broken room.

Kabru was very thankful for his pillow.

Living down the hall from the person you wanted most – he’d had to be quiet. His pillow had absorbed his frustrated yelling, his late-night moans, and now, his sobs.

He had fucked everything up.

This is all Marcille’s fault, he thought to himself, self-pityingly.

And he had no idea, no plan, no hopes for what would happen next.

Marcille and Falin were suspicious when no one showed up for dinner.

“That’s very unlike him,” Falin mentioned, though it didn’t need to be said.

“Maybe he already ate?” Marcille wondered.

“No, the roast hasn’t been touched.”

The pair hummed and considered the strange, empty scene in front of them.

“Shall we look for them?”

“Okay,” said Falin. “Do you think they’re together?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” she joked.

“Eww,” Falin poked her cheek. “That’s my brother.”

“That’s your brother who seriously needs to see what’s right in front of him.”

“I don’t think he will ever do that without some intervention,” Falin said.

“Me neither.” They paused. “Shall we look?”

“Not like we have anything better to do.”

Which is how they found Laios, reeling and slightly teary-eyed, alone in his room under a heap of blankets.

“I’m so stupid,” he bemoaned after explaining to them what happened that afternoon. “How could I not see it?”

Marcille, for one, was still reeling that Kabru had confessed without even warning her first. She should have been there to support him through this. To support the both of them.

And then she thought with a chill, Kabru.

She loved Laios. She really did – they had staked their lives on each other countless times, had ended and saved the world together, were bound together in this life in some intangible way.

But Laios had his sister right now, and Kabru had no one. And she also really loved Kabru.

She gave Laios a small hug. “You are a bit of an idiot, Laios,” she said, “but we still love you. It’s part of why we love you. Including for Kabru.”

“Did you know?” he asked.

“I did,” she answered. “So I know that he is probably really upset right now, and I’m going to go check on him, if that’s okay.” She looked for approval from Falin to go, and her and Laios nodded.

“We’ll figure this out,” Marcille said as she stood up and made her way out of the room.

She knocked before coming in and found Kabru sat up on his bed, curled into a ball, a tear-stained pillow on his knees. His face was puffy. He was a bit of an ugly crier, she remembered from the last time.

“Hey.” Kabru was avoiding looking at her. “Did you talk to Laios already?"

Marcille sat down next to him. “I did.”

“What did he say?”

“He was very concerned about you.”

“As if that makes any difference,” Kabru muttered.

This made Marcille cross. “I expected Laios to be a dense idiot about this,” she said, “but not you.”

Kabru looked up at her, pissed off and confused.

“You know how Laios is. You agonized over it. Did you expect to give him one kiss and he’d magically change, and realize everything he missed? If you really love him, and I know you do, you’d know that’s not how he operates.”

Kabru just stared at a corner of the room, expression furrowed.

“I doubt he even knew he could have feelings for another man until an hour ago. That’s going to take time for him to process. You threw him into this, Kabru. He’s so confused, and he’s just had his world turned on his head. He’s not going to react well to anything in that sort of state. And you didn’t give him any time to think. You walked out on him. He wasn’t mad at you. He was just confused.”

Kabru breathed to stop himself from crying.

“You gave yourself so much time, Kabru. Doesn’t he deserve that too?”

Kabru nodded and wiped his eye with the back of his hand.

Marcille rubbed his back, and they sat and listened to the rain, breathing in and breathing out again.

“What am I going to do?” Kabru asked, feeling the waves of hurt rise and ebb.

“Just… let him be, for now,” Marcille said. “I can tell him you’re not mad at him. He’s going to be very scared that you hate him. And we just need to give him some time to sort through his own feelings.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to bring you a book or something?”

Kabru shook his head.

“Don’t look at the paintings,” Marcille said, knowing him too well. “You have done enough pining for a lifetime. Focus on yourself for a bit.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll be back later.”

“Okay.”

Marcille kissed the top of his head and left his room. She was going to need a strong, strong drink after all this. And maybe a relaxing bath. With Falin. This made their get-together look like a walk in the fucking park.

“I’m back,” Marcille called gently as she re-entered Laios’ room. Him and Falin were sitting across from each other on the couch, the blankets in a heap on the floor. “What did I miss?”

Falin looked to her brother to share. “I, um, I might have some feelings to work through with Kabru,” he said.

Marcille sat on the floor between them. “Care to elaborate?”

Laios looked exhausted. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, I don’t expect you to do a lot better than that, but you can do a bit better.”

Laios huffed. “I don’t get this stuff.”

“Do you care about ‘this stuff’?” Marcille asked, meaning it genuinely.

“I care about Kabru,” said Laios. “I care about Kabru a lot.”

“How do you usually feel when you’re around him?” Falin asked next.

“I feel…” Laios started, then stopped to think. “I feel, I don’t know, like I want to be around him.”

“And…”

“And he makes me feel happy.”

“And…”

“I don’t know! Can’t you guys just, like, tell me? I feel like you would pick up on this better than I would.”

“We can’t tell you how you feel,” Marcille said, “even if we have our own ideas.”

Laios looked at them pleadingly. “Please?”

“It would be unfair to Kabru. You need to sort through this yourself, even if it’s hard.”

Laios paused at his name. “Is he mad at me?” he asked, small and so, so lost.

Marcille had an idea. “And what if he was?”

Laios, who she had never seen cry over anything but monsters and dungeon food and maybe his sister almost perma-dying in the years she had known him, had a tear go down his face. “I don’t even know what I would do. He means so much to me, he makes the world make sense, I look forward to seeing him every day.”

Now we are getting somewhere, Marcille thought. “He makes the world make sense?”

“I mean, yeah? He – he doesn’t get impatient with me, when I don’t get things, he makes me feel better about myself, he always seems to know what to do. I can always rely on him. I don’t… ever want to go a day without talking to him.”

“How much does it matter to you, to talk to him?”

“Like, I, I’ve never been so happy to talk to someone every day. And I feel sad when we say goodnight. And I just, I don’t feel like I ever get enough of him.”

Marcille didn’t ask any more questions after that. There was a long pause. The rain had subsided to a drizzle.

“Does that mean that I’m in love with Kabru?”

Marcille smiled slightly at Falin, who smiled back. She turned to Laios and patted his hand.

“It might. But I also think you have been through a very emotionally taxing afternoon, and you shouldn’t make any brash decisions until you’ve slept on it and eaten something.” As if on cue, Laios’ stomach gurgled.

“I can’t believe it,” he laughed a bit, wiping at the tears. “I completely missed dinner.”

“I’m sure there’s still plenty left,” Falin said.

“I didn’t realize crying made you so hungry.”

Both women smiled at him, and Laios remembered something from earlier. “Is Kabru really that mad at me?” he asked again.

“No,” Marcille answered. “I just said that to see what you’d say. And it looks like it worked.” She stood up as he made a betrayed face at her.

“You’re evil!” he whined.

“I’m efficient.”

“Do you want us to bring you up some food?” Falin asked, and Laios nodded.

When they reached the kitchen, Marcille gave Falin a quick kiss. “I’m going to bring some food to Kabru’s room. I might sleep over, if you were planning on staying with Laios.” Falin nodded, and Marcille finally let her gentle, caring exterior drop with a neck roll and a groan. “I knew them getting together would be bad, but this is ridiculous. They’re emotionally exhausting…” Falin laughed. “It wasn’t nearly this much work for us.”

“And I’m glad for it,” Falin said as she took her hand. “Being with you is so easy.”

“You too.” She leaned over to kiss Falin’s head, right above her ear, and then groaned again. “I really hope they figure this out.”

“I know Laios,” Falin said. “All he needs is time.”

“I’m just hoping it’s before Kabru runs off,” Marcille said. “He’s so dramatic.”

“It’s hard, being in love, not knowing if the other person likes you back,” Falin nudged Marcille. “Even worse if it’s with someone as blind to love as Laios.”

Marcille sighed and nodded, giving Falin one last kiss before taking her tray. “I love you,” she reminded her. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, and hopefully this can all be sorted.”

Falin nodded, and the two set off.

Laios woke with a start.

When Falin had come back the night before, neither of them wanted to talk another word about feelings and love. They ate their dinner, and Falin asked him about the book he’d been reading that morning. They chatted for an hour about monsters and adventures until Laios’ mind felt like it had cleared a bit, and a sudden wave of exhaustion took over him.

“It’ll be better in the morning,” Falin had said before wishing him goodnight.

He was staring up at the tapestry he’d had installed above his bed – a grotesque display of all his favourite species. He thought about how Kabru had never seen it, but he wanted to know what his reaction would be.

He thought about all the times Kabru touched him, and how they’d felt nice, but he didn’t think anything of it.

He peeked his head up and saw Falin reading his book from before on the couch.

“Falin,” he said up to the ceiling. She hummed in response. “Does Kabru touch other people the way he touches me?”

“No,” she answered.

“Do I touch Kabru the way I touch other people?”

“No,” she answered.

“Can you be in love with someone and not know it?”

“Yes, especially if they’re you.”

“Can I learn how to show someone I love them?”

“I think so.”

“How can I show Kabru I love him?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Falin got up and flopped on the bed next to Laios, still holding the book. “Do you think you love Kabru?”

“I think… I think I do.”

“He’s not going to like it very much if that’s what you tell him.”

Laios’ brow furrowed. “I wish he could help me through this,” he said, and Falin laughed. “He’d know exactly what to do.”

“I’m sure he would.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think he would tell you to do?” Falin looked at him expectantly, and Laios closed his eyes to concentrate.

“I think,” Laios started, “I need to use something other than my words, which are not my strong suit.”

“That’s a good start.”

“I could bring him flowers. Don’t people do that?”

“I think you need more than flowers.”

“Magical flowers?”

Falin thought about for a moment. “That’s a good idea, but I don’t think it’s right for now.”

Laios huffed. He kept staring at his tapestry and thinking of monster-related things, but he knew Kabru wouldn’t enjoy those as much as he would. And he kept staring and staring at his tapestry. And he thought about how beautiful it was to make art of things you found beautiful, to preserve them forever, to show the world how seen they were, and he had an idea.

“Do you know anywhere around here I could commission a painting?”

Lisle had just gotten to their shop for the day when two individuals in cloaks that were far too fancy for the village started banging on the door. Loud noises terrified Lisle.

“We’re not open yet, I’m sorry,” they called through the door. “But you can return at ten a.m.”

“It’s urgent!” called a male voice from the other side, that sounded strangely familiar. “Please, we’ll pay extra.”

Lisle took a deep breath and slowly unlocked and opened the door. They didn’t seem like bandits.

The individuals – whose faces Lisle still couldn’t see – bowed their heads gratefully as they came in and thanked them. And then they took off their hoods, and Lisle was face-to-face with the king of the Golden Kingdom, a face they were so familiar with at this point.

Sir Kabru had been spot on about the freckles.

“Your – your majesty!” Lisle curtseyed. “I’m – my apologies for not letting you in sooner!” Lisle was beginning to tire of the ambushes of the royal family. They were going to give them a heart attack one of these days.

“No, no, our apologies!” Lisle had heard this script before. “I need to commission a portrait. You made the one of me with the kingdom in the background, right? The one Marcille and Kabru bought a few months ago?” Laios had noticed it earlier that summer and had been surprised and a little creeped out at how detailed it was.

“I mean, yes –” among others, they were about to say, but decided to withhold that for the time being.

“I’d like to commission a matching one of Kabru,” he said, and Lisle nearly laughed in surprise. “But wait – shoot – do you even know what he looks like?”

Then Lisle did laugh, but only a little. After picking up that portrait, they felt like they’d seen his soul. “Don’t worry, your majesty, I’m more than able.”

Laios looked uncertain. “Okay – well – just to be sure, his hair goes like this –” he gesticulated in a way that was completely nonsensical to anyone that didn’t already know Kabru – “he’s got a little chip in this tooth over here, he has exactly one mole on his neck right over here, and he’s—”

“Let me get this down,” Lisle interrupted.

Laios wasn’t at breakfast.

He wasn’t at lunch, either.

Kabru was despondent. There was no reason he wouldn’t be here unless he was avoiding Kabru. Because Kabru had forced his feelings on him, and things would never be the same and his life was fucked forever.

“You need to eat something,” Marcille commented from across the table, where she was reading a book on forest magic.

“Not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.” She hadn’t looked up from her book.

Kabru sighed and stared at his fork. “Do you know if he’s –”

“Stop moping and pining like a teenager and eat your food. Someone needs to help me actually run this kingdom.”

Kabru groaned and took a bite of his scrambled egg. He tried not to think about Laios.

The second day of Laios’ absence, Kabru spent the day in constant anxiety, utterly confused by the king’s disappearance. It was one thing to abandon him, but to abandon his kingdom?

“Seriously, Marcille, where is he –”

“He’s in town,” she interrupted.

The confirmation that Laios existed somewhere was enough to make his heart start thumping. “What’s he doing there?”

Marcille, from her seat behind the empty throne in their even emptier throne room, was snacking on fresh popcorn, looking disinterested. It was like she was trying to show off how bored of this situation she was. “What’s it to you.”

Kabru shoved his irritation down. Now was not the time to make more enemies. “Is it not of interest to the kingdom why their monarch has decided to abandon his –”

She attempted to throw a few pieces into her mouth and missed. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Are you queen now that he’s gone? Is that it?”

“Sure.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Says you.”

Kabru huffed and reclined in his chair defeated, unable to stop tapping his foot.

“Can you stop,” Marcille snapped.

Kabru just groaned and pulled his legs up to his chest. So long to royal decorum.

“Do we just, not have any appointments?” Kabru asked on day three.

“We’ve been answering official correspondence all day. Is that not busy enough for you?” Marcille didn’t look up from the letter she was writing. They each had a pile of finished ones, and a pile of ones that needed answering, loosely organized in heaps across their shared table. Kabru’s hand cramped. “Plus, we can’t take appointments without Laios here. I’ve been cancelling all of them.”

Kabru’s eyes flared at his infuriating friend. “If we had no appointments then why did we spend all day yesterday in the –”

“I thought it would be meditative for you.”

Kabru groaned.

“But clearly you need busywork, so here we are. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I hate you.”

Marcille smiled devilishly. She was trying to enjoy torturing Kabru as much as she could before he became insufferably happy, soon.

By day four Kabru had given up.

No amount of washing the night before could get all the ink off, and black stains decorated his right hand. His fingers still cramped, and he couldn’t bear the thought of another day of paperwork. The dining room was still empty save for him and Marcille at breakfast, and Kabru didn’t know how much longer Marcille could keep the charade of everything being fine up. This was bad. Their king was gone.

“He’s gone,” Kabru repeated, out loud, freshly baked bread wafting up to an unappreciative nose. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been denying it, but it had to be true. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

Marcille gave him one long, hard look. This didn’t feel like the time to play with him; he sounded particularly vulnerable. “I’m not a fortune teller, Kabru.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “But he will come back.”

“Are you just trying to pacify me?”

“No!” Marcille huffed in frustration at him, and at the situation – she rejoiced when Falin told her about Laios’ plan, especially knowing Kabru’s side in the story. She knew it would be perfect. She just didn’t know it would take this long.

Is this how Falin felt, waiting for us to save her? she thought suddenly, and tried to clear her head. Happy days only from here on out.

She gave him her most genuine look. “Just. Trust me. Have a little faith in him, okay?”

Kabru nodded, unsure. “Okay.”

Laios was going out of his mind.

He’d been holed up in the village inn for five days. Unable to even go outside. He missed his bed, he missed Senshi’s cooking, and he missed Kabru.

He really missed Kabru.

He hadn’t been away from him for this long since they first started this adventure together.

Laios didn’t know how he’d managed so long without him, in a way.

Not that his memories with his old party weren’t the best of his life, or that they were lacking in something because Kabru wasn’t there. He loved them, he went on great adventures with them, and they were everything a dungeon explorer could ask for.

But now that he had Kabru, he didn’t think he could go back. It felt like he was missing a piece of himself.

When did I become so attached? he thought to himself.

He thought about kissing Kabru when he returned.

It was a weird, unnatural-feeling thought when it first came into his mind. He could admit that much; he never would have thought of it himself. It scared him.

But then he thought about it some more, and some more, and something bloomed in his chest.

And with Laios, once a thought materialized to him – as late, or as inappropriately as they might come – it was impossible to ignore. His life sometimes felt like he was the captain of a ship, and he kept noticing rocks in the water right as he crashed into them. Or like a two-headed monster, split between realities, too focussed on one to notice the other.

So now he really, really wanted to kiss Kabru, and the painting was taking so long.

“I’m home,” called Falin, from her morning check-in at the painter’s. They figured she was less likely to be recognized.

Laios tilted his head up from the bed and felt butterflies take off in his gut when he saw the thin crate she was holding. “Guess what I picked up,” she smiled at him.

Kabru was lying on his bed, various portraits splayed around him, thinking about what to do with them. His options included: burning; punching; kicking; eating (Laios would appreciate that one); drowning; chemical drowning, preferably in some deadly toxin; dragging through town, preferably to be seen by Laios; hitting with a hammer, club, or other blunt object; slicing with a sword; pissing on them; having Marcille magically explode them; or hiding them in some deep dark corner of the castle where no would ever find them and he could whisper his secrets to them at night like a ghost.

All his options were pretty enticing. He needed some time to think about them, though.

That was until Marcille knocked softly at his door. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, hoping she’d leave quickly. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone today.

“Whatcha doing in there, you miserable toad?”

“Wallowing in my own misery.”

Marcille paused. On the other side of the door, her hands were trembling a bit. “Well, if you have time, you might want to put something on and come downstairs. Someone’s here to see you.”

Kabru shot up, heart racing, stomach in knots, his pyjamas that he hadn’t washed in too long sticking too him. He’s fucking here and I’m not ready and I’m so scared and what is going to happen –

“I know you’re freaking out in there,” Marcille called. “But it’s rude to keep people waiting.”

Kabru laughed.

He stood up and moved towards his closet.

“Wear something nice,” Marcille said. “This might be a day you remember for a while.”

Kabru felt like he was going to be sick. Hope curdled in his stomach like rotten milk.

Through the shakiness of his arms, he managed to get on his favourite tunic, and his pants that fit him just right. He opened the door for Marcille, who looked at him like he was a wet dog and started fussing with his hair.

“I don’t –” Kabru protested, trying to swat away her lithe fingers – “have time for this!”

“There,” Marcille breathed. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes.”

She sighed a breath of relief. “Good.”

Kabru stood in place, frozen. “Can you,” he stopped, blushing furiously. “Can you hold my hand?”

She took his hand and led him down to the throne room. Falin was waiting just outside the doors for them. She gave Marcille a kiss when they arrived, then smiled at Kabru knowingly.

“We’ll be out here,” she said.

“Like a couple of eavesdroppers,” Kabru said, unimpressed.

“Like a couple of babysitters,” Marcille bit back, smile on her face. She fluffed his hair one last time. “You’ve got this.”

Kabru took one last bracing breath and snuck into the throne room.

Laios was waiting for him in the middle of the floor, in those blasted fucking pants and a red tunic. Embroidered edges glimmered from the sunlight poking through the hall.

“Hi,” Laios started, carefully.

“Hi,” Kabru said, stopping an arms reach away. “What’s with the crate?” he asked, but he already had a feeling what was inside. Maybe he’s returning the portrait to Lisle, he thought, because he found out I collect them and now he’s too uncomfortable to ever see it or me again. He breathed. I really hope he doesn’t know the things I’ve done to those paintings.

“I got you something,” Laios said. “But first, I just want to say – I’m so, so sorry, Kabru.” He bowed his head. Kabru couldn’t help but think, here comes the part where he breaks my heart again.

Laios pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket, perfectly folded. He didn’t need to explain to Kabru that he was using the script because he was nervous. Kabru knew the real meaning came from how he delivered the words. He cleared his throat. “I have somethings I want to say. I – I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to feel unseen,” he started, speaking gently. “To have feelings and not be able to show them. Or to show them and have them fall on deaf ears. I wish I had been better at understanding what you were doing. At seeing the signs you were sending me. Which, I now know, there were plenty of. I hope you know it wasn’t on purpose.” Kabru felt like he was getting one of the King’s speeches, one made just for him, and he felt something hot burn in his chest. Inwardly, he smiled at the thought of Falin and Marcille helping him write this out, the way he always did with Laios.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking over the last few days. And. Um.” He fiddled with the paper and smiled nervously. He made his first eye contact with Kabru since he’d started to talk, and it sent a jolt up Kabru’s spine. “We all agreed that this part needs to come from me alone, so I wrote it by myself.”

Kabru smiled at him. He was proud of him. “I believe in you.”

Laios took a shaky breath. “Okay. Here we go.” He paused. “I’ve done a lot of thinking over the last few days. And I can’t pretend that I’ve known I was in love with you this whole time, or that the thought had even occurred to me before you asked me to kiss you.” Laios was blushing, and Kabru felt a stab in his heart, at words he knew were true but he didn’t want to hear. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.”

Oh.

“I’m – I’m really, comically, awfully bad at seeing these things,” Laios said. “You know that, I know that. I’m hoping – if you love me, you accept that.” He looked down at his feet. “Which isn’t to mean that I expect you to coddle me, or to tell me how to do this all the time. That’s unfair to you. And I think we should both expect more of me from that.” He paused again, meeting Kabru’s eyes, gold on blue. “And now that I’m here, now that I’ve – realized, how much I care about you, how much you care about me – I’m hoping you’ll let me try to be better to you. I see you. And I wanted to prove to you that I do.”

Laios took a deep breath and slowly unlocked the crate Kabru had forgotten about.

He gasped when he saw himself, against a familiar backdrop, in the style he’d become so intimately familiar with. And then he couldn’t see it anymore because he was crying.

Laios looked unsure and put his hand out to – comfort? Kabru. He hadn’t known what to expect at the reveal; based off books and stuff he thought they might be kissing by now.

But instead Kabru took him by the neck and made a sound into his shoulder. Laios couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a cry. He wrapped his arms around Kabru’s back and squeezed. “Thank you,” Kabru said shakily into his ear. After everything, he didn’t want to say I don’t think you know what this means to me, even if it was true. That could be a story for… later. He settled on “I love it.”

“I’m – I’m glad,” Laios said, still clearly a bit nervous at this new level of intimacy between them but embracing it. Kabru pulled back to wipe his eyes, and he kneeled down to be level with his portrait.

It looked more like him than he knew something could be. Laios shifted to point at different parts. “I made sure they got this little mole over here,” he smiled, happy to explain the way he did with his monsters. “And I was a little finnicky with the hair but I needed to make sure they got your cowlick right. And the little scar between your ear and your jaw –”

He stopped when he noticed Kabru watching him. Suddenly, neither of them seemed to know what to say. Kabru stood back up, still having to look up to meet Laios’ eyes.

“You mean it?” Kabru asked, and before Laios could ask what he meant, corrected with, “You have feelings for me?”

Laios, after his fixation for the past few days, could not get his eyes off Kabru’s mouth. He’d always thought he’d had nice lips, so how had he never thought about kissing them? “Yes.”

“How do you know they’re real, that you don’t just think they’re real because you feel bad for me?”

Laios, still staring at his lips, felt something like desire boil up in his stomach like a thickening stew, and he couldn’t handle all this talking for another second. “I know,” he mumbled, and the next moment he had his hands around Kabru’s neck and was pulling him in for a kiss.

It was Laios’ first kiss in a long time, and the first one that he’d ever ached for. He didn’t know you could ache for this. He was hardly even registering what was going on, only that he was in this moment and he was kissing Kabru, and from the way Kabru was kissing him back and putting his hands on his chest he was also lost in this moment, and Laios was so glad for a form of communication that wasn’t talking.

They kissed until leaning over their priceless painting became too uncomfortable, but neither of them seemed keen to let the other go.

“I’m going to move this,” Laios laughed, leaning to pick up the painting, and Kabru breathed a laugh with him, their noses touching. “And we’re going to have it hung right next to mine.”

“I would love that. Can we sit down?”

“Yes. Would you like to come to my room?” Laios asked. “…We can finish what we started.”

Kabru’s heart skipped a beat. “I would like that very much,” he answered with a smile.

They snuck out the main doors and went around through the back entrance, to avoid Marcille and Falin, per Kabru’s request. “Consider it some needed revenge,” is all he said, and Laios decided he could ask about that later. For now, he had some other priorities that needed attending to. Such as: kissing Kabru, cuddling him, explaining how miserable he had been the past five days without him, and learning how to be as disgustingly in love as Falin and Marcille.

Laios felt a new world opening in his chest – one that he’d never really thought was there for him. A world of joy, and danger, growth, and comfort, as rich and vast as the deepest dungeon. And there was no one he’d rather explore it with than Kabru.

small epilogue (as the credits roll)

Kabru had a king in his bed.

He had a king in his bed almost every night, save the nights where it was the king’s bed that had him.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind haze of making up for lost time, of discovery, of anxieties melting into relief melting into comfort.

“Like caramelizing onion,” Laios panted between kisses.

“What?” Kabru asked, not being sure if he would ever know to expect what Laios would say next, not that he wanted to. He could study him forever.

“We’re like a caramelized onion,” he said, still kissing Kabru between words despite the conversation material; it didn’t matter to either of them. “It’s kind of an unpredictable process, when you caramelize an onion, it’s like you’re on Onion Time. But it’s so worth it in the end,” he murmured into Kabru’s neck, as his hands reached the band of Kabru’s pants.

Kabru placed a hand on Laios’ chest. “I was thinking, um, if we could try something different tonight.” Translation: he has been imagining this in agonizing detail for twelve months and can’t hold it in anymore.

Laios blinked at him unknowingly. “Of – of course. What did you have in mind?”

Kabru lowered his eyelids halfway and snuck a glimpse at Laios’ lips before meeting his eyes, the way he quickly learned turned Laios on. “I was wondering,” he breathed, lowering his voice on purpose, “would you like to fuck me?”

Laios’ breath hitched and Kabru felt his words go straight to Laios’ dick. “Yes,” Laios breathed.

Kabru smiled, a little devilishly. “Good.”

They both froze for a moment. A thought occurred to Laios – he’d been doing some research on safe practices since they had gotten – involved, so he had some idea of what came next. “Do you have – um –”

“In the nightstand,” Kabru said, high on excitement, and only when Laios’ hand touched the handle did he remember what else he stored in there –

“Hey, uh, Kabru,” Laios asked, trying his best to sound normal and mostly failing, “What are these?”