[Sebastian]
"Presenting Sir Hunter Clarington of Colorado."
The prince looks back from the window, intending a cursory glance—this is just so boring; he's never going to actually talk to any of his knights, why does he have to sit through this introduction ceremony every year?—but his gaze ends up riveted to the young man in front of him.
He is tall, almost as tall as Sebastian himself, broad-shouldered and bronze-haired. His features are strong and regal, offset by his lips, which look so soft and sweet that Sebastian finds himself longing to run his tongue over them for a taste.
"My lord," Sebastian manages, even though it feels like his throat has been scrubbed out with sea salt, the words barely able to get out.
Hunter bows, a smirk curling that lovely mouth. "Your Highness," he says, his voice deliciously deep. "I pledge to bond myself to you, to walk the roads you walk, and be devoted to you until the very last breath leaves my body."
Sebastian holds out his hand, like he always does, like you're supposed to so the knight can kiss your ring and the vow is complete. But this time, as Hunter grasps his hand and the heat of his skin soaks into Sebastian's palm, he can't help but think of a wedding ceremony.
Kitty nudges him underneath the table with the toe of her slipper. "It's your turn."
He jumps, feeling oddly guilty, and lays down a card without looking at it. Kitty picks it up and frowns at him. "What?" he says, and she slaps the card back down onto the table.
"You just lost yourself the game," she answers. "What's the matter with you? You've been like this for days now."
For a moment, Sebastian considers lying, claiming some illness or sloughing off the claim entirely and acting like Kitty is crazy. But he knows any sort of subterfuge is useless with her; they've known each other for their entire lives, and she'd know if he was lying.
Sebastian sighs and fans his hand of cards onto the table, and for the first time notices that he has a full house. "It's that bloody new knight," he says, gaze still on the table. "I—"
He stops, not even sure how to continue. Sebastian has known since he was young that he wasn't like everyone else, wasn't exactly the prince his father expected him to be.
The queen's ladies-in-waiting were the prettiest girls from the richest families in the kingdoms, and more than a few foreign diplomats had brought their eligible daughters with them to parade in front of Sebastian like they were thoroughbred horses. Even though they'd smiled at him with poppy-red lips and wore dresses that seemed as if they were painted to their curved, elegant bodies, Sebastian was left wondering why he didn't feel anything when it was obvious by the actions of his friends—carousing at brothels, sliding hands beneath the ladies' petticoats, getting caught in a back hallway with their trousers around their ankles—that he should.
When he was sixteen, he kissed a squire who was almost a full head shorter than he was, a boy with unruly dark hair and eyes that made Sebastian think of sweet things, like honey and molasses. It was everything he'd never felt for a woman, it was a rush of need that was intense and full and left Sebastian feeling as though he had only just now learned to breathe.
But here, it is not safe to be this way. It is not safe for a man to let his gaze linger on another man's, even if he is breathtaking, even if he is handsome and clever and is almost always standing just close enough for Sebastian to be able to smell the simple evergreen scent that surrounds him like the spokes of light that cradle the sun.
He's silent for too long, and Kitty reaches across the table to touch his hand. Sebastian looks up at her; there is a moment where he knows that she knows, and then another that arrives a heartbeat after it, where he feels nothing but relief.
"I don't know what to do," he says, the first time he has ever made such a confession, because he is a prince, a leader, and the only way he knows how to show strength is to never admit you are anything less than confident. "I'm—"
Afraid.
The word sticks in his throat, because it's not something that come easy to him—either confessing to fear or feeling the emotion at all. Fear has no place in the daylight, not in Sebastian's world, the world where he'll be king one day and have the weight of the realm on his shoulders; fear lives in the dark, breathless moments just after waking up from a nightmare, when the air has a taste and a texture and a weight that pins you to the bed.
Her fingers interlace with his, and Sebastian realizes for the first time, even though he has known Kitty for so long, that she is his best friend.
Quietly, so quietly Sebastian barely hears her, she says, "I know. It's the same for me."
"You—you too?" Sebastian answers in a voice that is just as soft.
Somehow, he's never thought of the fact that someone so close to him may be keeping a secret, let alone one just like his. Kitty's palm is warm and soft, small enough to fit neatly within his, and Sebastian thinks for the thousandth time that he should feel something; but now, at last, he knows the girl whose hand he's holding isn't feeling anything either.
"Me too," Kitty says, offering him a soft smile.
There's the sound of the herald's staff on the hallway floor, beyond the closed double doors, and then his voice as the doors are thrown open: "King Nicholas II!"
They both stand, and Kitty sweeps a deep curtsy. Sebastian bows, and when he looks up, his father is beaming and has Kitty's hand clasped between his.
"You two," he says. "Always closeted away somewhere, as if no one else in the world might matter."
Kitty wants to tug her hand free, Sebastian knows, but to do so would risk insulting the king. So he draws her close to him, her hand falling from between his father's, and Nicholas just grins at them, looking for all the world like a man who has just won a great prize.
A page scurries into the room, the color in his cheeks making him look like a raspberry, seemingly overwhelmed. Sebastian offers him a smile, but this only causes the pinkness in his cheeks to flush darker.
"Your Majesty," the page says, addressing Nicholas, down on one knee. "Princess Katherine's father, the honorable King William, has arrived and is waiting for Your Highnesses in the great hall."
Nicholas claps his hands together, clearly pleased, and grasps the page by the elbow to raise him up. "Thank you, my boy," he says, and the poor child is now a positively glowing shade of scarlet. "Lead the way, eh?"
With the page hurrying ahead, Sebastian reaches out a hand to keep Kitty at his side.
"That was strange," he murmurs. "Wasn't it? The way my father was acting?"
She nods, her eyes on the king's broad back as he strides in front of them, like a great warship being towed to shore by a rowboat. "Very strange."
As they approach the tall oaken doors that lead to the great hall, Nicholas glances at them over his shoulder. "Offer her your arm, son," he instructs.
Kitty raises her eyebrow at Sebastian; he only shrugs and obeys his father. She tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow as the herald presents them, opening the doors to the rustling of fine fabrics as the court bow and curtsy.
He spots Hunter and a few of the other knights standing just to the left of the dais, which holds the king's massive guilt throne, as well as two slightly smaller seats for Sebastian and the queen. His heart picks up speed, like a horse being pushed into a canter, at the sight of him; and when Hunter inclines his head at him, Sebastian's brain grounds to a halt for a moment before he remembers the proper response, nodding back.
"Darling!" Queen Angeline holds out her arms for him, and he feels heat creep above his collar as a few of the courtiers titter fondly.
Sebastian lets his mother wrap her slender arms around him and squeeze as tightly as she can. He knows that she can't have any more children, even though that's not something anyone would actually dare say, especially not in earshot of the king; knows that he's doubly precious, as the only heir and the only child, and so he just hugs her back just as fiercely.
The queen pulls back and reaches up to smooth his hair. "I hope this makes you happy, love," she says quietly, and before Sebastian can ask what she's talking about, Nicholas is asking for attention.
King William is standing beside him, looking almost comically slight next to Sebastian's father. It's just that Nicholas is so barrel-chested, so tall, while William is of average height, blonde like his daughter, muscular but compact. He smiles at his daughter, nods at Sebastian, as Nicholas begins to address the room.
"As you all know," he says, "King William and I have been friends for many years. We've fought wars together, came into our own together, and, in our youth, had perhaps too much fun together."
Here, he elbows William in the side, and the courtiers chuckle again.
"And we've raised our children together," Nicholas continues, gesturing at Sebastian and Kitty. "Princess Katherine is as dear to me as though she was my own daughter, and I know King William is just as fond of my son."
William gives a start as though he has missed a cue, and then clears his throat. "I have watched Prince Sebastian grow up alongside Kitty," he says. "I have watched a little boy transform into a man, an intelligent, brave future king that I would follow into battle."
Angeline makes a low sound in the back of her throat at the world battle, and she grasps Sebastian's hand for a moment. There's been peace in the kingdom since Sebastian was a very small child; his earliest memory is the king returning triumphant from battle, his banner snapping scarlet against the blue sky.
"And so," William is saying, "it is my greatest joy to announce the betrothal of my daughter, the Princess Katherine, to the son of King Nicholas and Queen Angeline, Prince Sebastian."
Sebastian suddenly feels both numb and very cold, and he's vaguely aware of his lips parting as though he could possibly protest or refute this decision. But he knows it's too late now; it was too late months ago, maybe even a year ago—these things take ages to arrange, and more often than not fall through.
This, he supposes, might be why no one bothered to tell them.
Or maybe everyone assumed this is what they wanted. Maybe they thought this is what Kitty and Sebastian expected, as a matter of course; and maybe they had been groomed for it, a princess and a prince of two wealthy, powerful kingdoms being raised together—pretty figureheads, a promise of unity to come.
Even though Sebastian is well aware how royal betrothals work, how it doesn't matter what either of them wants as long as the political alliance is strong enough, he still can't entirely believe this is happening, and suddenly, all he can think about is Hunter.
He looks around for him, the first time he has moved since William spoke, but Hunter is gone.