Chapter 1
It was so silent that a pin drop would’ve been the same as a cymbal crashing. It was almost surreal in the throne room, a customarily comforting place with elegant sky blue walls just the day before, only for its blue hue and ornate detailing to become suffocating to all except Preminger.
The Queen’s blue eyes were reddened and dried trails were on her cheeks, her spectacles only placed emphasis on the distress in her eyes.
The ambassador, a bumbling heavy set man with one of the most tasteless wigs that Preminger had ever seen, was fidgeting and shifting with irritability over the princess’s disappearance.
But the one reaction that he found himself truly disliking was-
“Ran away?” Julian said with audible scepticism. He was the princess’s tutor and much too bright for Preminger’s taste. That boy thought himself as a genius, always sticking his nose in Preminger’s carefully placed plans. It was a pity that he had such a fine head on his shapely shoulders. In his opinion, it would’ve been in the young man’s best interest to spend his time in front of a mirror instead.
“Yes, she did,” Preminger spat out, his distaste unfortunately palpable in his face. He pulled out the note that he forged and prompted the man to take it. And that he did, with a raised brow and a face of equal animosity.
He watched as the tutor’s eyes roamed across the note, personally delighting in the way the blue of his eyes seemed to dim.
He never thought that his plot would lead to such a gorgeous reaction like that! Now, he was simply looking forward to a single tear. For dramatic effect, really.
“See?” Preminger said mockingly, hardly able to resist a haughty smirk on his face in just that moment.
Julian looked up with his eyes narrowed and his grip on the note tightening. “Is that lilac?” he says, his gaze appraising, wandering over Preminger.
Preminger snatched the note with a sniff. “Whatever cologne I wear is no concern to you.”
“No, I am certain that was from the-”
“You really should get some fresh air, get that head out of those books, school boy. Wouldn’t that be just fun ?” he interrupted flippantly, tossing his head back with a merry laugh, walking out of the throne room with a noticeable mirth.
As he made his way to his rooms, his mind supplied him with a thought.
‘ You might be on top right now, but what if she manages to escape? You know that those two nitwits might make it possible for all your hard work to crumble into worthless dust! There is a strong chance she will go to that tutor of hers and tell him of all that you have done! He’ll believe her with no question especially due to his dislike towards you. You will have to make sure that can never happen.’
And how would he do that?
The man was too infatuated with her to refuse her, nothing could ever-
‘ And if he began to doubt her? Mistrusting her? And all that trust he had was placed in you instead, solidifying your plan one step closer with even more ease. Besides, it’d be nice to see from afar the little heartbreak you cause.’
It took all of his might to smother a triumphant laugh, but it definitely was in his head as he practically glided into his rooms.
It was perfect.
There was the possibility of it becoming a complete disaster, but for the short term, he was dedicated to witnessing the sinking feeling of pain set in Julian’s eyes as the man would realise mistakenly enough that Anneliese had used him.
Oh, he was brilliant!
He already knew that Julian has an unusual habit of staying in the royal library late into the night.
There was no doubt that the princess’s disappearance would have him in there for even longer, trying in vain to search for an answer.
It was such a perfect opportunity for Preminger to strike!
He hummed a jaunty tune as he cast a glance at his reflection, a small smirk blooming on his lips.
Oh, he could hardly wait!
The night had now replaced the day with a velvety blanket of indigo and a hem of countless stars thrown across the horizon.
The moonlight streamed through the golden windows of the palace, the light splitting into translucent ribbons that painted the polished marble floors.
A shadow, tall and willowy, laid flat on the floor and led to the feet of Preminger.
Who wasn’t tall… but willowy enough, therefore the dramatic effect remained.
He walked down the hallway, the silence being interrupted with each sharp step of his slippers echoing throughout. If any of the servants had left their quarters, they would’ve seen the Queen’s very own advisor wandering about in the dead of night, clad in a nightshirt and robe with a wily look on his face.
But luckily for him, they were not there. Not a single servant or even soul in sight.
He did feel a tickle in his throat, but he tucked his tongue in his cheek. He could not afford to utter even so much as a chuckle. It would give him away within frivolous seconds. He continued on his path to the library, occasionally casting a derisive glance at any portrait of the Queen and Princess.
But that was no matter, soon it would be his visage gracing the canvas.
He stopped right in front of the fine ivory doors, making sure to shift the smirk on his lips into a pensive frown and hooded eyes as he stepped within the library.
It was a grand room with a ceiling that seemed to reach the heavens. It had to be about thousands of shelves that hung on the walls, all brimming with books and tomes alike. It would’ve been absolutely mesmerising if not for the worn blue colour of the walls.
And right in the middle of the library sat Julian, hands digging into his hair, sending it into disarray. Books surrounded the man like a literary shield made out of ink and paper. They were nearly tossed aside when they were found to be useless. Preminger could practically feel the vexation clouding around the tutor.
Of course, he was in high spirits to be the one to see it. And oddly enough, the young man did not look up from the book in front of him when the door opened. He truly was immersed in it, sheer determination driving him forward. A noble thing, indeed.
And that was a bubble Preminger had to burst with urgency.
He let out a convincing yawn, going as far as to rub his face.
“Preminger?” Julian said, immediately rising from his seat, fatigue gone from his face as his eyes narrowed as they landed on him.
‘ Do not smirk, Erwin. You cannot afford any more inconveniences at this moment.’
“Forgive me, I didn’t know you were here, did I disturb your reading?” Preminger murmured, with a downcast glance as his face softened. His voice was soft and low, far from his usual piercing tone.
Intentionally, of course, but the brunet didn’t know that.
Julian was visibly thrown off kilter by the unfamiliarity of the man who stood before him. “Oh… no, not at all,” he said, glancing at the unorganised stack of books on the table. His movements were defensive, curt. Evidently, he wasn’t going to open up to the advisor immediately.
That was all fine by Preminger, he adored a challenge.
Julian ran his hand through his hair, causing it to be even more mussed and unkept. Preminger simply had to bite on the instinct to slap that hand away and put the hair in place.
“Yes, well…” Preminger drawled, a drowsy lilt in his voice as he walked towards the stairs that led to a second floor of even more books, “don’t let me stop you.”
Warily, the young man eyed him before setting his shoulders tensely and sitting back down, asking no pestering questions. As much as this was out of character for the scholarly man, Preminger took it as a blessing to avoid coming up with some harebrained excuse.
Between the two of them, there were no words. Only the infrequent sound of pages turning and books closing filled the immeasurable stillness of the space.
Julian was pawing thoroughly through dozens of books, desperate for anything that could enlighten him. That was heavily contrasted by Preminger, whose feet were propped up on a foot rest as he lazily flipped through the pages of some old fashion catalogue that caused his face to screw up in repulsion.
He looked down to see Julian’s brow furrowed, another book that led to a dead end discarded to the edge of the table. His shoulders were slumped and his gaze was brewing with frustration edging towards resentment.
It was just the time for Preminger to push it towards pure anger. He went down the stairs, forcing sympathetic pity in his gaze. He stopped at Julian’s side, who glared at him, not even bothering to utter a word.
So Preminger decided to utter a sentence instead.
“It’s pointless,” he whispered.
Julian stood up, his eyes narrowed into furious slits. “Don’t say that! This isn’t like her at all!” he cried, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“ As if you know her ,” Preminger hissed with a scoff.
There! The first seed of doubt planted!
Once again, the man paused, discomfort growing as he began to question himself, slowly. “I do, why wouldn’t I for all the years that I have been here?”
“As a tutor, a servant, a mere commoner, ” the older man pointed out with a flippant hand and a glint in his eyes. “No royal would ever truly give themselves to those below them. Those like you and I.” He picked at an invisible speck of dust on the collar of the night robe. “We are but dust,” he added with a sneer.
“ She isn’t like that,” Julian countered, more defensive by the minute.
Oh, this was escalating better than he thought!
“No? Then how come she left without a word to you? Surely, she would have spared a minute or two to you. You are her beloved confidant, after all,” he taunted.
Julian’s jaw clenched as he stared upwards. “If this is some attempt to just rile me up, it will not work, Preminger,” he gritted out.
And he was right in a sense. It wouldn’t work… it already was.
“You dare to think that low of me? I am simply stating the truth! One that you are willing to ignore. Are you not this brilliant scholar, where’s your head?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and crossing his arms.
“ I will use my head when I please, Preminger.”
“Obviously not when it comes to back handed princesses,” he replied, his gaze hardening. “She saw your devotion to her and she used you as a tool to see the world. And she got her wish, she’s out there in the world, free and wild. And you? You’re here, corned by four unforgiving walls, alone with a longing heart aching for affection.” He forced sympathy to flood back into his eyes.
Julian met them reluctantly with his own, watery and bloodshot. “And what? I should instead look for solace in who? You?” he spat, turning his back to him.
“Yes,” Preminger whispered. “I know it must be ridiculous, but I’ve always… admired you from a distance, Julian. You and I have this drive to be known, heard, seen. ” At this, he dared to touch him on his shoulder. His eyes widened at the fact that the young man did not shove off his hand. He instead let his touch linger.
He allowed the tiniest of smirks to appear on his face as he continued. “It’s a brilliance that cannot be hidden. I wish it to be seen. You are remarkable. It’s a pity that they look at you without a second glance. You have reserved yourself to be the tutor. And that has left you in an unfulfilled state.”
“And you are the one that cares about me? Really seemed far from that through the years we’ve passed by,” Julian said softly. There was, Preminger noted happily, less hostility in his voice and more of a willingness to listen.
“I would like to apologise for that,” he said ruefully, casting a hopeful glance at Julian who turned his head to look over. “It was rude of me-”
“Callous,” the man muttered.
Preminger’s nostrils flared but sighed. All for the plan. “Yes, callous. And I was-”
“Boorish,” the brunet interrupted again.
“Yes, yes, that. As I was saying, I am truly sorry for my horrid-”
“Atrocious.” This time, there was an audible smile.
God, Preminger wanted to throttle him, but no, no, no, he needed his trust. He was very certain that strangulation would not help him towards that goal at all.
“Fine, fine, I get it, I get it!” he exclaimed, well as much as he could at a library in the dead of night. “I do see your hurt, however. And isn’t that far more what anyone has done for you?”
He succeeded in guiding the tense man into sitting down once again, with himself standing. He could hardly hide his own joy at how Julian faced him, eyes looking up at him. Sure, there was some minor wariness remaining, but it was far less than it was in the beginning. It was progress.
He placed his hand on Julian’s crossed arms, his face gentle and soft. “I can only imagine how stifled you felt when you lived in the village. A cramped room, barely any air to breathe that wasn’t dust, barely a scrap of food in you. What life is that? For anyone? It’s the same here.” He paused before adding absentmindedly, “Except this is a palace covered in finery. But you get the gist.”
That prompted a sliver of a smile to pull at the man’s lips.
Yes! He was so close .
“We are not so different… if you look below the obvious, of course,” Preminger quipped with a light lilt, taking the moment to sit down with less of his usual flourish. He looked at Julian, but found his eyes were not meeting his. Why would he-
He kept down a grin when he caught that blue eyed gaze on his collar bone.
He didn’t originally plan for this to take a more seductive route, but he was not going to let opportunity slip by him.
He met those eyes with his own heated stare and smiled teasingly, earning a hesitant one in return.
He moved a tad bit closer, their shoulders practically touching. “Perhaps, we could be friends, Julian?” he breathed, his lips ghosting Julian’s ears. He could see the skin becoming flushed.
He still got it. He obviously could not ignore the smugness that spread through him like the warmth from a hearty swig of ale.
“Perhaps,” the young man uttered, moving his head closer. If either one of them shifted slightly, their lips could’ve met.
But Preminger found himself with a desire of a chase, it wasn’t often that he could do something as feral, as reckless as this.
He patted the man’s face tenderly, not paying any mind to the jolt he felt, and went to stand. And being drunk from pure victory, he reached over and brushed back the brunet’s wayward strands of hair.
That was far better. Of course, the blush that arrived as a result was an excellent bonus.
He made his way back to the doors, not looking back until his hand was on the door handle.
He always had an affinity for the dramatics.
When he had looked back at Julian, the young man had returned to his books as if nothing had happened and nothing could’ve been on the line within seconds. His face was nearly masklike, eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.
But the one thing was that despite all of the expressions the man could make, a faint rosy blush remained on the tips of his ears.
Preminger breathed out a quiet laugh, one that could’ve been mistaken as a heart felt sigh.
“Tell me when that ‘perhaps’ becomes a ‘yes’,” he murmured, coaxing a small smile on his lips. He received a noncommittal hum that was most definitely not a ‘no’, closing the doors behind him.
He kept quiet on the slight trek back to his rooms, not allowing one thought to grow in his mind. His face was blank. His steps were quiet and rushed.
He didn’t even dare to breathe .
He reached his rooms and glided in. Locking the door behind him, he finally let his lips stretch into a wide grin as he silently threw his head back for a mute laugh.
He’d done it!
Not that that was surprising, of course he did.
He went to his mirror, lavishing in the reflection that echoed back to him with the same devious grin.
He went through a couple of different expressions, smirking at every single one.
He was so close to having that crown on his head, he could feel its heaviness upon him and the soft velvet grazing his brow.
How dazzling he really was!
And if he felt a little twinge prick at his conscience, he would never admit it to himself. He would never dare.
It was worth it.
Definitely.
It took, Preminger realised in the days that followed, a lot more than flattery and mindless gestures to gain a man’s trust that you won’t feed him to the proverbial wolves.
It took patience. That was emphasised by the morning that came after that night where Preminger had to withstand Julian’s probing glances and bite his tongue from saying anything sharp and jagged. He could only offer a knowing smirk at those suspicious eyes.
It took restraint. He needed that as much as a fish needs water to breathe. He had to restrain his customary smirks and grimaces. His face was practically aching for a little curl of the lip. His mouth wanted to form some cutting remark just for the sake of it, but he could feel those eyes watching him. He had to make do with a quirk of the eyebrow and pointed looks.
And most importantly, it took promise. Promise just like the one that was uttered in the soft dimness of the library with books flung about and the moon glistening in the sky. He had to keep to it. As much as he wished to simply let it shrivel up and die like a robust flower trapped in a never ending winter, that would end in trouble.
He made plenty of rash decisions before. Some were failures, while others were immediate successes. But when it came to this one in particular, he was quite frankly lost at what to label it.
At the moment, he was on very shaky grounds with the young man. There was the question of how to make it so it was less shaky and more cemented. He barely had the drive to find the answer after all of the time that had passed.
Three days.
Three days of this… insurance to have the likelihood of the princess’s escape and search for familiarity to never happen.
Three days of this frequent sneaking and hiding like some low bred weasel, travelling through holes and shortcuts.
It became a routine for him to ride into the Western Forest at precisely 2:15 in the morning, where the sky was a dull black, only to arrive at the cabin holding the royal captive at 2:35.
And each night, all seemed to be in order, despite the complete simpletons he kept in charge. Perhaps he should find a more appropriate replacement. There was no harm in caution, afterall.
And tonight, it was no different.
He had returned from the forest and was in the middle of sneaking back to his quarters. He threaded carefully through the halls, not even daring to let out a wisp of breath from his lips. With each step, his heart thumped in rhythm. His eyes wander around, on alert of a shifting in the curtains or the creaking of a door.
He was only ten steps away from his door, a couple of long paces and he’d be there in seconds. He sighed with shaky relief and when he began to walk, he heard footsteps.
Footsteps that most definitely were not his own.
He stiffened on instinct before rushing to his door, his back on the wall, breath held and he waited.
And waited…
And waited…
And waited a tad bit more just to make sure.
The sound did not repeat.
This time, with a watchful eye around him, his hand reaches for the door handle, his lips pressed into a tight line.
“You’re still awake? And at this hour?”
It took every fibre of his being to not scream at the top of his lungs as that voice filled the silence of the halls.
He chuckled, hiding his shock away, as he turned to see Julian standing in front of the door, who was looking down at him with a questioning stare. “Pardon me, I didn’t expect you to come visit, shall I prepare a cup of tea for you?” he asked teasingly, tilting his head back as he drawled with a smirk.
‘Remember… Patience, restraint, promise.’
The young man pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes as his gaze wandered over Preminger. It was almost like some kind of dissection really. Being taken apart with just a stare, limb by limb, nail by nail. Until only his bones would remain. “That is not necessary really, thank you. I just find it odd that you still are in the same clothes that you wore in the morning,” he murmured.
That school boy could keep his voice as soft as he wanted. Preminger could still practically hear the silent question being asked by his shifting eyes.
Were you up to no good? Was it all a farce?
And Preminger was dedicated towards reducing that question to complete ashes on the ground. The only issue was how would he do that?
He stared at Julian in return, attempting to make the young man feel as picked apart as he had for just a speck of time. With his own eyes roaming about, he realised something.
“I could say the same to you, Julian.”
Oddly enough, the tutor was still in his blue vest and breeches. Perhaps he was up reading or some strange thing like that.
But then again, the man seemingly came out of nowhere. And the footsteps had to be his. Yet they didn’t have that echo from the hallway. They instead had the audible depth as if they were inside a room…
A certain room too.
A certain room where he slept and that could explain how fast Julian had shown up.
“You were in my quarters, because…” Preminger stated. Not asked. Stated.
And from the blooming blush, Julian heard the difference. He coughed into his hand before standing as straight as a line. “I wasn’t, you’re simply jumping to conclusions,” the brunet said, quickly enough to have the older man look at him smugly.
“I believe my conclusions are reasonable, tutor ,” he whispered with a sharp grin, narrowing his eyes. “I am very sure if I walk in there, I will see a disturbance through my belongings. And I am very sure that you went in there to find something to defame me with.”
He walked past him into the room, giving him a mocking glare. “Am I right? Or my little hypothesis wasn’t academic enough to your scholarly tastes?” His words hung in the air with a taunting trail following.
Julian’s eyes flared, a bright spark passing through his gaze. “I don’t know what you expect from me. I’m hardly going to trust you-”
“Yes, of course, that is something I must be used to by now. It simply has to be wicked old Preminger. As if I haven’t given my years for the betterment of the kingdom!” he spat, his mouth curled into an impressive sneer.
And embezzling from the royal mines on the side, but that certainly did not need to be mentioned.
Another one of those blasted silences began to grow between them like a wall.
They stared at each other, eyes narrowed, neither willing to back down. Julian wasn’t going to admit to anything. And Preminger wasn’t going to pretend nothing had happened.
Only the lord knew what the man could’ve found! Thankfully, he never stored any of his plans, be them benevolent or malevolent, in his room. Couldn’t run the risk.
Damn the plotting! It was too close. As calm as he might’ve been able to appear, underneath was a rambling current of thoughts and feelings.
All with varying degrees of anger.
He should just ditch the plan and pretend all of this was a product of whiskey, that it was a figment of his overactive imagination, and then he would just-
“You’re right, I was wrong.”
And that good for nothing pedantic know- it- all could go and…
“Pardon? You said what?” Preminger asked slowly, blinking himself out of the flurry of his thoughts.
“I-I was rash… I did… do what you said I did,” Julian paused to clear his throat, visibly unaccustomed to admitting fault. That was all fine by Preminger, he could wait all year for this moment.
“And?” the advisor prompted, not even bothering to hide his raised brow and knowing smirk.
“And… would you forgive me?” the brunet murmured, looking up at the ceiling.
Preminger just had to relish this moment. It had to stay in his memory. He would be able to look back and sigh with satisfaction at having Julian apologise to him, all frazzled.
‘ Be virtuous, it looks like the plan’s still able to come to fruition.’
“I forgive you,’ he said slowly. “I suppose I can’t fault you or your suspicions, perhaps I will always be a suspect.” He sighed a wistful sigh with a wayward glance before he turned to close the door. “It is quite late, we both must retire to bed,” he added with a shaky smile.
He watched as the many thoughts flitted about on the young man’s face. There was guilt, apprehension, doubt, but strange enough, there was a glimmer of hope.
Now, it was likely that it was just a trick of the light. But there was no light for tricks of any form to occur.
And as much as Preminger wanted to open his mouth, the moment was left for Julian to make a move.
It was almost like chess. A strategic game threaded along with the rhythms of two players on opposing sides. And he was quite intrigued to see which piece would shift on the figurative chessboard.
He kept his gaze downcast, looking down at the very ground as he began to close the door. He hid a smile behind his hair when he saw a foot try to stop it from even getting near to closing.
Checkmate!
“Yes?” he feigned confusion, pure ignorance at its finest.
“Do you remember what you offered me those nights ago?” The question was hushed, his voice as soft as down. But Preminger could still make it out.
“What about it?” he asked bluntly.
“I would… like to be associates,” Julian said, eyes closed. One would have figured he was asking for Preminger’s hand in marriage with the way the poor thing was flushing and looking around.
“It wasn’t associates, Julian,” he chided lightly with a click of his tongue. “It was something else.”
“I must’ve forgotten.”
“Yes, that looks to be the case.” Preminger dropped his voice to that alluring and tender tone, smirking up at the man with hooded eyes.
“And you would help me with… jogging my memory?”
“Oh, yes, I believe that I could. Very efficiently, need I add.” Preminger began to walk nearer to the brunet until he was extremely close to the man’s ear.
“If I recall correctly, it was friends ,” he hissed into his ear, his own ears hearing Julian’s breath hitch and his slight shivering every time his breath grazed his skin. “You want that still, right?” his touch ghosted the man’s arm, only the softest of touches were made.
“ Yes.”
Where Julian could not see, Preminger’s face was skewed into a deep grin with glinting eyes before the older man stepped back and bowed his head. “Then let it be so. Goodnight.”
And when he closed the door behind, the wood pressing against his back, he did indeed feel all at once.
But the biggest of all was triumph.
He, Erwin Preminger, a peasant’s son, was triumphant .
For nearly the first time in years, he slept calmly, all with a winning smile on his face.
Checkmate, indeed.