Chapter 3
HERE’S TO THOSE WHO LOVE NOT TOO WISELY
“You called, Your Majesty?” James stands by the doorway, watching the King scribble away on his desk.
Steven looks up wearily and sees the grin in his best friend’s face, immediately matching it as he stands up. “Hey, Buck.”
James playfully bows at Steven before making his way to him with his arms open. Steven pulls him into a hug, gently swaying them as he buries his chin in the crook of James’s neck.
Best friends since childhood are what they are. With James’s father, George Barnes, being the head Royal Blacksmith for 17 years, James would be present in the forge for when the late King Joseph II would personally visit for consultations. Little James — “Bucky” to his friends and little sister — was hiding behind his mother’s skirt when King Joseph II had brought the Crown Prince for the first time.
“Making swords is cool,” Steven had said, a gold-plated action figure in his hand. “I wanna make swords.”
“I wanna be a knight,” James had grinned. He had swung his wooden sword up in the air. “So I can fight! Swoosh, swoosh.”
“That means you would have to serve the king.” Steven had clarified.
James had tilted his head in return. “And that would mean you, right?”
Steven had frowned. The idea of his father not being king anymore had disturbed him a bit, though he had liked to steal the big shiny crown when his father wasn’t looking. “But I wanna make swords.”
“Maybe you can be a king and make swords. I don’t know,” James had shrugged. “But I don’t mind serving you! We could be best friends.”
It made Steven smile. “Really?”
“Really!” James had giggled, “King Steve and the mighty Sir Bucky!”
“You finally managed to fit me in your schedule.” James jokes as he peels himself off Steven. “It was hard to get in, did you know that?”
“Oh, come on, Buck. I don’t make my daily schedules either. I listen and obey everybody just like you.” Steven smiles apologetically. He watches James go to the nearby bookshelf.
James takes a book and flips the pages. He still has a smile on his face, mindlessly reading the words. “You’re still the king, Steve. You can fire your advisors if you don't like how they moved.”
“It’s not easy as one, two, three.” Steve says, sitting on his desk. “How have you been?”
Sighing, James puts the book down and looks at Steve. “Delusional.”
“Oof,” Steve crinkles his nose. “How so?”
“I swear I saw somebody down the hall before we came up here. Just… a gorgeous human being. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I don’t.”
“What did they look like?”
James furrows his brows as he purses his lips. How does he even describe the angel? “He’s got long hair. Gold… ornaments on them. He was wearing red.”
Red. Steven thinks hard; his guards wear red, the attendants wear blue. He does allow long hair in service, and he has seen few people sport it. There’s a gardener in the palace that likes to put gold leafy clips on his hair too, though he thought he had quit already. A few male kitchen staff have long hair. Admittedly, Steven doesn’t pay attention to the palace helpers very much, not when he doesn’t need to.
Samuel had golden hair accessories, but the last time he saw him he was wearing green. Besides, he’s not sure how to feel if James really is talking about Samuel. He shrugs it off.
“I’m not sure, Buck. Maybe it was just your imagination, then.” Steven says with an apologetic smile.
James isn’t even fazed. “It must be.” He admits with a sigh at the end of his sentence. “There was a commotion at the stable today. Fuckin’ Dum Dum’s horse was fighting Carol’s. Didn’t end up well. Goose got her gaskin injured somehow. Probably got kicked.”
“Oh, terrible.” Steven comments.
“And Carol wasn’t there. Had to take Goose and Clementine to the specialist… a long day, is all. I wouldn’t be surprised if I hallucinated a dragon behind you.”
Steven chuckles. He goes back to his chair and sits down. “Don’t freak me out with a ghoul or something, I’m already busy enough.”
“Right,” James puts the book back on the shelf and paces around the office with slow strides. “I heard about your fiancé.”
Humming, Steven takes the mug by his desk lamp and sips the room temperature coffee. He briefly frowns at it. “Mm, yeah. He arrived today.”
“He? I thought it was a girl.” James looks over his shoulder first, then spins as he plops himself down on the couch. “Sorry. The townsfolk said so.”
“Because they couldn’t imagine it.” Steven says, not taking offense. “There hasn’t been any marriage in my entire lineage that’s going to be like us. Not that it was banned, of course. They just… it just didn’t come to be.”
“Your great-great-grand-uncle, Prince Spencer…”
“Was killed in battle before he could marry Sir Harold.” Steven finishes James’s sentence with a sad smile. “Battle of Shiorhiel. 15,000 soldiers, more than half of them fell. Including the two of them.”
James stares at Steven from across the room, his brows slightly raised with empathy. The life of a knight isn’t all about glory and dauntlessness. It’s also having the thought of never returning to your loved ones in the back of your mind. James feels like running on luck every time he’s in battle and survives. Many of his men and women don’t.
James tries to deter his thoughts away from the last battle, attempting a small smile. “Do you like him at least?”
Steven smiles, planting his back on his chair. “I do. He’s nice, he’s educated. Well-spoken. Very down-to-earth. He um, he was a pilot.”
“A pilot?” James mirrors the grin of his friend, “That’s interesting. Is he… you know?” He makes a circular gesture around his visage. “Good-looking?”
Nodding, Steven takes the papers he was working on and stacks them on the side, pulling another folder. “He’s got a very pretty face, for sure. But…”
James raises a brow. “But?”
With a sigh, Steven starts writing again. “I don’t know. There wasn’t much chemistry, I feel like.”
“Well, this isn’t science class. You don’t need a reaction right away, do you?” James reassures as he stands up. He’s taken up too much of the king’s time. “I’m sure you guys will figure it out, yeah?”
Humming in agreement, Steven sighs after. Then, he looks up as he notices James walk to the door. “Are you leaving?”
James shrugs. “You should finish your paperwork. It’s getting late. Your mother isn’t a big fan of the bags under your eyes.”
Steven laughs, standing up to meet James again for a hug before they part. “Can’t believe she told you that.”
“Me and the Queen Mother are better friends than us, just so you know.” James grins, chuckling as Steven does too.
“Good night, Bucky. I appreciate you coming here to see me.”
“Of course. I’d come see you more often if you weren’t neck deep in your responsibilities.”
Inhaling deeply, Steven sighs loud. “Trust me, I don’t want this either… I’d pass it to somebody else if I can.”
“You should have an heir soon then,” James jests, making Steven roll his eyes.
“I’d have to die first.” Steven responds. He notes the disapproving look on James's face as he tries a lopsided, guilty smile. “...Too soon?”
“Good night, Steve.” James pats Steven and grips him solid on the shoulder, something that no one else in Veurein could do. “I’m here for you.”
As James closes the door, Steven stands there still, engulfed with silence and the burden of the crown.
“So how was the King? You didn’t call last night.” Sarah asks from the opposite line on the phone. She twirls the cord, trying not to smile too big. “Does he smell good?”
“Sorry, unpacking my stuff was a bit hellish.” Samuel sighs. He looks around the room, noting how far Joaquín is from him as he whispers, “He does. He was very pleasant to chat with, too.”
Sarah pulls the mouthpiece closer to her lips, “Do you like him?”
The question makes Samuel pause. He looks down at his feet, nervously picking at the crevice of the phone with his thumb. “I… I do.”
Sarah repositions herself in her seat. “Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming in.”
Sighing, Samuel clicks his tongue. “But not like that.”
“Maybe not yet?” Sarah tries to be positive. “Does Ma know how you feel?”
“I can’t– I don’t wanna tell her. She’s… She won’t wanna know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t fumble the damn king.” Samuel mutters into the mouthpiece. He looks around, making sure none of the attendants are within earshot. “And maybe it’s the nerves… he’s perfect, he’s regal, I got no issue with anything… there’s no reason to back out so early. Or to back out at all.”
Sarah sighs. She knows how her brother feels especially that she’s been through an arranged marriage herself. It got her two beautiful boys, but at the end of the day, the marriage wasn’t a result of love. She wasn’t exactly unhappy, although not exactly content either.
But her brother’s situation is different. The man he is marrying isn’t just a duke or a wealthy businessman — it’s the king of the nation. Everybody knows that it will be the mistake of a lifetime if he backs out.
“Maybe you just need to get to know him, brother.” Sarah advises ultimately. “You gonna meet with him again today?”
“I will. We’ll have supper later.” Samuel says. He’s not particularly a fan of being in the schedule of the king. It makes him feel like a check-list item. “I’m going to go downtown with Ma. See what they have. Entertain myself… I haven’t been to St. Bathilde in a while.”
“I heard they make wonderful ale there.” Sarah smiles through the phone. “Grab some trinkets for me when you go back home.”
Samuel chuckles. “I’ll be here for a while, Sarah.”
“Okay, well, have them shipped here.” She replies, letting herself be the stubborn little sister.
Rolling his eyes, Samuel smiles lightly. “I’ll see what I can find. I’ll have to go though, my bath should be ready.”
“Update me soon.” Sarah says, straightening how she sits. “And Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ll be a great King consort no matter what.”
Samuel pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Thanks. I love you.”
“I love you, Sammy.”
The call drops, and Samuel exhales heavily as he puts the handset back on the cradle. Even though the room is full of paintings and sculptures and all that, it still feels empty for Sam, not without his siblings.
Joaquín walks towards Samuel. “Bath’s ready for you, my Lord.”
“Thanks, Torres.” Samuel replies with a small smile, heading out first.
It’s going to be a long, boring day.
St. Bathilde has always been busy, especially as the capital of Veurein. This is where the merchants from other countries drop the goods first, so people who live here usually get them before the rest of the country. The market feels like a mile long with different things being sold — from carpets and drapes to knives belonging to an old pirate, you name it. Sarah would’ve loved to come, but Lady Darlene is as enthusiastic as her daughter, making it obvious where Sarah had gotten it from.
“5,000 darics for a curtain? That’s a little absurd.” Lady Darlene frowns at the white satin curtain being sold nearby. “That better be from Asgard.”
“It might be.” Samuel whispers back, trying to find a sign where it’s from. “Ah, it says it’s from Zestresh.”
Lady Darlene pulls Samuel closer with her arm hooked around his. “Zestreshian satin isn’t worth that much.”
“Ma.” Samuel nudges her with a smile, then leads the way carefully enough not to make the two of them bump into people.
The vendors shout quite loud to attract customers. Samuel and Lady Darlene hop from one stall to another, looking at some incredible handmade wood sculptures, or some pendants that look like galaxies are trapped inside of them.
“Sorry to bother you,” A merchant asks politely, leaning forward to Samuel. “But you look familiar. Where have I seen you before?”
Samuel blinks a few times in confusion, then looks at his mother. “Oh! Um… I’m not sure, ma’am. I haven’t been around here for a long time.”
“I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere!” The lady insists, “Where is it…”
“I’m really sorry, you must be mistaking me for–”
“King Steven’s fiancé!” She yells, catching a few people’s attention as she points at Samuel. “You were in the newspaper this morning!”
Blinking twice, Samuel cocks his brows up in surprise. He didn’t even see any cameras anywhere near the palace.
Before he could protest, a man with a newspaper comes towards him, comparing the photo and him in person. Samuel gets a glimpse of it; it’s not a good photo, but the locs, build, and the basic shape of his features kind of give it away. It was from when he was entering the palace yesterday when he first arrived. He’s in disbelief on how fast paparazzis are.
Huge chatter fills his vicinity, and suddenly Lady Darlene is not beside him anymore. Samuel turns around quickly, looking for his mother. “Ma!” He yells, halfway through a full-blown panic. “Torres!?”
A camera flash on his face.
No.
“Excuse me!” Samuel exclaims, hoping it’s respectful enough. “I don’t think there’s a reason for everybody to crowd on me like this!”
“How does it feel to be engaged to the king!?” A woman asks from his right.
“Do you love each other? Or is this fake?” Another man yells.
“This is barbaric! It should’ve been at least a duchess!”
Samuel’s head starts spinning. The noise, the pushing, the heat building up because everyone is too close.
“Hey!”
Suddenly, a horse neighs nearby as it rears, making Sam turn to where it is, realizing the voice came from the same direction.
The crowd clears for a beautiful, white warhorse. She looks like she glows, especially under the rays of the sun. There’s a knight riding her, his armor unusually black unlike others. There’s wings on each side of his helmet. He has a black cape draping down the horse, the inside of it red. Samuel notices the metal arm glinting on his left, but he’s not sure if that’s part of him or part of the armor itself.
The horse trots towards Samuel as the knight holds his hand out for Samuel to grab. He doesn’t speak, but instead nods his head to gesture at the space behind him.
Samuel doesn’t hesitate. He’s already sweating from anxiousness. He takes the hand and steps on the stirrup as he gets pulled up effortlessly. Without wasting any time, the knight commands his horse to move forward while the rest of the crowd gives them a way to escape along the market.
Samuel had never experienced this before. The peers of the monarch had never been given this much attention. He didn’t think he’d be in the newspapers, the palace hasn’t announced anything as far as he knows. He worries about Lady Darlene and Joaquín, but he’s also wildly relieved that he’s out of there now.
They’re away from the market and now in the business district near a park. The horse continues to trot, their direction seeming to be the one towards Saintirral.
“Are you okay, my Lord?” The knight finally asks, his voice muffled inside his helmet.
“Yes, thank you…” Samuel answers with a big sigh. “I need to find my mother and my courtier.”
The knight nods. “They got in the car and are on the way back to the palace. I happened to be around and your courtier had asked for my help. I… told them I can get you and bring you back.”
Samuel puts a hand on his chest, placing his head on the back of the knight’s armor in relief. “Oh, thank Heavens. I was worried about my mother getting crushed in there. That was crazy.”
“You’re a new face in the palace, my Lord. It might get crazier than this.” The knight answers. “You shouldn’t have gone out by yourself like this.”
“First of all, I wasn’t alone.” Samuel counters.
“Second of all?” The knight responds. He tilts his face a bit to the side as if waiting for an answer. Samuel could somehow feel that the knight was smirking beneath the headgear.
Samuel pauses for a bit. “That’s… it.”
The knight chuckles lightly. “This is just like if the king went out with the Queen Mother and a single guard. People love and hate the sovereign. It’ll be a mix of both in the crowd and it won’t be nice. Just like earlier.”
With a peeved huff, Samuel looks away. “You should just drop me here somewhere if you were patrolling. I’ll be alright.”
“Whoa, no. And have the king behead me for leaving his fiancé here?” The knight shakes his head. “No, sir. Respectfully.”
“Who are you?” Samuel asks out of curiosity. The knights he had met are usually more… careful with their tones. This one speaks more casually despite knowing his status. He reminds him of the King, somehow.
The knight stays silent, as if contemplating. “Does it matter?”
“To me, yes.”
“I’m a Royal Knight.”
“I can see that,” Samuel replies. “But what should I call you?”
A beat.
“...My name is James.” The knight answers.
“Okay, Sir James,” Samuel says. “Thank you for today.”
“You’re… very welcome, my Lord.”
Samuel and James reach the palace in no time. As soon as the horse stops moving, Samuel jumps off it and greets his mother with an embrace who is waiting by the gates.
“My baby boy,” Lady Darlene cries out, swiping the hair out of her son’s face. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
“I was a bit lightheaded, but I’m good now.” Samuel answers with a smile. “Sir James right here–”
Samuel turns around, and the knight with the white horse is gone.
“You okay?”
A voice cuts through James’s thoughts as he blinks, remembering that he’s in the middle of fixing his chainmail. He looks down at it again instead of the bright flame in the forge across the shop.
“I’m fine, Becca.” James says, though he’s visibly not.
“Yeah, you just bent the ring you’re doing. Definitely fine.” Rebecca smiles teasingly, placing the tray of bread and cranberry juice on the counter nearby. She moves some tools aside to give some more space.
James tries to find the bent ring, and when he does, he groans and drops his hands to his side. “Aw, come on.”
“What is bothering you? Seriously.”
Sighing, James places the pliers on the table, smoothing out the chainmail. He grits his teeth as his jaw twitches, thinking about the encounter with his so-called angel a couple of days ago now. He’s lost sleep about it, constantly thinking about how impossible he’s feeling.
He frowns at himself. He couldn’t even speak of it; it’s ridiculous.
“I… may or may not have my eye on somebody…” James starts, looking at his fists on top of the counter.
“That’s nice,” Rebecca commends. “Who’s the lucky boy? Girl?”
James bites his lower lip, inhaling a shaky breath as he turns back to Rebecca with a wince.