There were many things Feliks wanted in life. He wanted a wardrobe filled with fancy clothes, a nice cottage of his own with a few cats to keep him company, and a close-knit group of friends he could always count on.
However, his parents had other plans for him.
From an early age, he showed great promise as an artist. He knew how to hold a pen by the time he was three years old, and was drawing only a year later.
It's not that he disliked being an artist; on the contrary, he loved doing it when he was given free reign to do with it as he pleased and it was only for fun. But when his parents began to notice his talent, they began forcing him to practice on a daily basis, and restricting what he could draw and paint to only a very limited list of "appropriate" things. Of course, "appropriate" always meant "sellable."
Over the years, Feliks's talent became more and more widely known, spreading past the village he lived in and eventually into the ears of the king himself. After he found out about Feliks's talent, he sent a tall man to the cottage he shared with his parents and siblings with a written request that he be sent to the castle immediately to be hired as the Court Painter. When his parents found out, they were ecstatic, and dismissed Feliks's protests as being "ungrateful over such an opportunity."
Within the span of a few days, his bags were packed with all his belongings, and he was sent off to the palace.
Despite his frustration at being sent there against his will, even he had to admit he was taken aback when he stepped in to the palace for the first time. The ceilings reached at least ten times his height, windows along both sides flooding the hallway with light, and a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling dispersed the light from outside into tiny rainbows all over the room. His parents ran a successful tailoring shop back in his village and because of that they were what could be called comfortable, but such wealth and extravagance as this was beyond Feliks's wildest dreams.
The tall man that came with him from his cottage to the palace stopped when the king and queen, and what appeared to be their children came to greet them. The king himself was a massively-sized man, with a dark beard covering most of his face. His wife was dwarfed by him, but he could tell that she was not to be messed with anymore than her husband. Her golden curls were pulled up in a tight bun, her back stiff as wood, and her eyes purple and narrow. Feliks felt his mouth go dry.
"Your Majesty, this is Feliks Łukasiewicz, your new official Court Painter," He bowed before them, and a second too late Feliks bowed as well.
"Rise, Sir Caldwell, Mr. Łukasiewicz," The king smiled at the new employee.
"I would like to welcome you to the castle, I have heard so many wonderful things about you. This is my beloved wife, Queen Rūta, and our three sons: Prince Toris, Prince Eduard, and the little one is Prince Raivis," Raivis, quite small indeed, pouted at his father's comment.
"T-Thank you, Your Majesty, I only hope to please you and your family." Feliks awkwardly bowed his head at the royal family in acknowledgement. The first thing he noticed about the three princes was that they all wore the same outfit, though the first one was in green, the second in blue, and the last in red. While it might have been cute on younger children, it seemed childish on the teenage princes.
"I'm sure you will," he grinned. "Now, to celebrate a new member of our household, we will be having a feast tonight, when the sky goes dark. I expect being a tailor's son, you have something suitable to wear?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, I believe I can find something," he promised, hoping it was true.
"Marvelous! I can't wait to see you there. Until then, Toris here can show you to your room and perhaps give you a tour of the castle."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Feliks turned towards the dark-haired son named Toris.
"Shall we get going?" He asked. Again, Feliks began to sweat once the prince was standing next to him. He had the same thick, wavy dark hair as the king but lacked the beard, and was almost as tall as him as well. But, his delicate features and large, kind eyes prevented him from being too intimidating. And yet looking at him, he could only stutter out an "okay."
After Feliks dropped his things off in his new room, the prince showed him every room in the house that he could, from the room that his great aunt died in childbirth to the room his great-great-grandfather slept in before he died on the battlefield, while leading his troops across the world to rescue his sister from her evil kidnappers.
While Feliks knew on an intellectual level that he should be fascinated to learn about the royal family and their history, he couldn't help but instead think about the prince. Never before had he seen a man so pretty, and as his brown hair showed red in the light he wanted nothing more than to capture the image on paper. The only negative thing he noticed about his appearance were the bags under his eyes, but if anything they made him look sad and world-weary, not ugly. Eventually, the prince caught on to his absent minded state.
"Well, you've been awfully quiet," he remarked. "I suppose hearing a bunch of stories about people you never knew before can get a little tiresome. I can leave you to your room if you like."
"No, no!" Feliks protested. The last thing he wanted was for the prince to find him boring. "I-I mean, I guess I just don't talk that much, Your Highness." His cheeks flushed pink.
The prince furrowed his brow in thought. "Hmm, how about we go look at some paintings, would you like that? I imagine being an artist yourself you must have an interest in the subject."
"Yes, that would be lovely!" Feliks agreed quickly. Toris smiled and led the boy into a room next door. As soon as he opened the door, what was inside took his breath away.
It was an oval shaped room, with a portrait of every past king and royal family up on display. Feliks tried to count them up, but only got to thirty when he was interrupted by Toris.
"This one," he said, pointing to the nearest portrait, "is my great-great-grandfather. He passed away well before I was born, but from the stories I've heard from Father he was a great man."
"How many are there?!" Feliks asked, in awe. Toris rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.
"I'm not quite sure, Father wants me to have each and everyone memorized by name, date of birth and death and length of reign, but I've only got to about forty so far."
A few feet away from him, Feliks noticed one painting that stood out from the rest. Compared to the more somber looking paintings surrounding it, this one was bright and colorful, with a distinct style that looked quite familiar.
As Feliks approached it to see who the artist was, he gasped.
"You guys had Feliciano Vargas as a court painter?!"
Toris walked over towards the painting and nodded.
"Oh yes, Grandfather hired him a little before he died. He fired the previous painter when he found out Mr. Vargas was willing to work for him."
"Oh my gosh!" Feliks exclaimed. "Did you ever get to meet him?"
"A few times, when I was younger." Toris answered. "He was… quite an enthusiastic person, but brilliant at his job. I don't think he enjoyed it much though, he quit after only a few months."
"I can't believe you got to meet him! Was he nice? What was his favorite color? Did he ever mention his thoughts on ponies?"
Toris was taken aback by Feliks's burst of enthusiasm. "I'm… not sure? About the pony and the color thing at least. He was very friendly, especially with Mother. Although, neither her nor Father seemed to care for him all that much… Why do you ask?"
"He's just, like, the best artist ever, that's why! I mean look at this line work right here, and how he managed to mix the colors just right to make that sunset. How he was able to do it I don't know," Feliks said, as he stood on his tippy toes so he could point to the thing he was talking about.
"Feliks, be careful, it's starting to wobble."
"Oh, sorry I guess I got carried away for a second," Feliks grinned, embarrassed. He turned away from the painting, but it was already too late.
"Feliks, look out!"
Toris pushed him out of the way just in time for the painting to come crashing down onto the floor with a loud thud. Both boys stared wordlessly as the frame and glass as they broke and shattered.
"Toris- I mean, Your Highness… I'm so sorry! I'll help you clean it up, and maybe no one will ever know?"
Before Toris could respond, Feliks ran over towards the shattered painting, avoiding the broken glass.
"The painting is probably still okay, and in the end, that's what really matters, right? You guys are rich, you can totally buy a new frame-"
"Feliks, stop! You're dragging it on the glass!"
Feliks dropped the painting onto the ground as though it was on fire, but with horror, saw that it was too late. The beautiful painting worth who knows how much was now in shreds.
"Oh shit," He turned to Toris, to see that he was pacing around the room.
"Shit, shit, shit. My father is going to kill me," he bemoaned.
"But you didn't even do anything, I'm the one who knocked it over!" Feliks reasoned. "If anyone is going to get in trouble, it's probably going to be me. What if I get kicked out and end up homeless?" Then what he just said hit him.
"Oh my god, I'm going to be kicked out and homeless," he cried. "Maybe, we can make up a reasonable excuse?"
"Reasonable excuse? What could we possibly come up with that could justify it?!"
Feliks thought for a moment, his mind racing for any possible explanation, but a door opening interrupted his thoughts.
"I was passing through when I heard a crash, are you boys all right-" the king stopped when he saw the broken painting. The boys whipped around to face him.
"What the hell happened in here?!" he narrowed his eyes at the boys. Instinctively, Poland shrunk himself down and hid behind the taller boy.
"Did you two do this?"
"Y-Yes, sir," Toris stammered.
The king's face turned red in fury. "You two of all people should know how important this painting is! Toris, I know you have studied our history in depth, and as for you Feliks, as an artist yourself I would have assumed you would have more respect for a priceless work of art!"
Feliks felt his stomach drop, and he looked down in shame. This was it, he decided, he was going to be kicked out. He wondered if his parents would let him move back in, but decided that they would slam the door in his face for bringing shame upon them. The king continued yelling but all he could hear was white noise. He had failed his king, his prince, failed at the one job he was told all his life was the thing he was meant to do. Tears began pricking at his eyes when he finally heard Toris speak.
"Father, Feliks had almost nothing to do with it, I asked him to point out some of the specific details in the painting, and it just fell over, he barely touched it. This is my fault and I take full responsibility."
Feliks was in awe. Why would Toris take the fall for him, especially if he was so afraid of how his father would react when he found out?
He turned toward the king to gauge his reaction. His initial anger seemed to be in the process of simmering down, as he thought his son's response over.
"In that case, neither of you will be attending the feast tonight. You will both go straight to your rooms without dinner, and Toris, you will explain this to your mother tomorrow. Now, are we clear?" He asked, giving both boys a hard look. They both nodded.
"Very well then, now go to your rooms."
As they both walked out of the room and into the hallway, Feliks grabbed Toris's arm, forgetting once again he was a prince.
"You didn't have to take the blame back there," Feliks stated. Toris shrugged.
"It was the right thing to do."
"But-"
"I'll see you tomorrow, Feliks," and before Feliks could stop him, he was off towards his room.
Feliks sighed, and turned toward his own room in the opposite direction.
Feliks could tell by the dark sky outside his window that it was now nighttime. A lit candle stood on his desk as he doodled a picture of himself in a lavish, embroidered tunic, with trousers and leggings and cloak with gold woven in. He knew he got off easy, way easier that he could've possibly hoped for, and yet he still felt incredibly disappointed that he was missing out on his first royal feast.
As his thoughts drifted toward the feast, they inevitably fell onto Toris. The more he thought about how he saved him, the more he wanted to know why. Though he was reluctant to go against the king's orders and risk getting in even more trouble, he knew that now, when everyone in the castle was attending the feast would be the best time to talk to him alone, and apologize. He picked up the candlestick, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and headed towards the prince's bedroom.
Unfortunately, he only realized after he was already out that he had no idea where his room was.
He cursed under his breath at his own thoughtless decision, and turned around back to his own room, when he heard a pair of light footsteps behind him.
Shit! He thought to himself. Quickly, he ducked into the nearest hallway to avoid being spotted. But to his surprise, the person out and about wasn't a nobleman, or god forbid the king himself, but the youngest of the three princes.
"H-Hello? Who's out there?" he cried out. He waved the candlestick in his hand around the surrounding area to try and find an intruder, but only seemed to become more anxious when none appeared.
"I-I'll have you know I'm the prince, and if you hurt me, my father will have your head! S-So you better show yourself right now before I call out for help."
Feliks sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was bring any more attention to himself, or alert the king he was out of his room.
He wasn't quite sure he could trust this boy, but it was his only shot if he didn't want half the castle hunting him down.
"Okay, fine, you caught me," Feliks announced. Raivis whipped his head around toward his direction, as Feliks slowly walked out from the shadows with his hands up, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible.
"Y-You're the new court painter!" Raivis cried out in surprise. "Everyone was talking about how you and Toris smashed Grandfather's painting at dinner. Is that why you weren't allowed to go to the feast?"
"Shh, keep your voice down," Feliks hushed the young prince. "First of all, we didn't smash anything, it was an accident. Second of all, why aren't you at the feast?"
Raivis pouted. "Mother said it was getting past my bedtime and sent me off, even though she's fine with Eduard staying up as late as he wants."
"Ah, that's rough, kid," Feliks empathized. "Being the youngest can be a hassle sometimes. Maybe the queen will be more lenient when you get older."
"I'm fifteen!" Raivis exclaimed. "What kind of fifteen year old still has a bedtime?"
Feliks looked at him in surprise. "Wait, really?! No offense, but I thought you were twelve, thirteen at the most."
Raivis's cheeks puffed up in rage, and his lilac eyes narrowed into slits. It might've been more intimidating if he wasn't a full head shorter than Feliks himself.
"What are you doing out here, anyway? I thought Father told you and Toris to stay in your rooms."
"Well, about that…" Feliks sighed. "Do you think you can help me find your brother's room? I really need to talk to him about the painting."
"Why do you want to talk to him about that?"
"Well, you see… it doesn't matter, okay? Can you help me, please?"
At this, Raivis thought for a minute. "Okay, I might be willing to help you, if you let me stay up with you guys."
Feliks sighed. "Were not staying up together, I just need to explain something quick to him, then I'm going back to my room and going to sleep."
But Raivis didn't listen to a word he said."We could our own feast! Just the three of us together, having a way better time than any of those boring people out there."
Feliks rubbed his temples."How would we even have a feast? Unless you have some food stashed away there's nothing for us to eat."
A devious look appeared on Raivis's face. "We could sneak down to the kitchens and get some. I've done it plenty of times before, and I've only been caught once!"
Feliks was going to protest, but then his stomach growled in response, and he sighed.
"Well, I guess you're not going to give me much of a choice if I want to find your brother, are you?"
"Nope!"
"Well," Feliks sighed, "let's first go to see Toris and then go from there. He might be sleeping by now for all I know."
"Unlikely," Raivis answered, as he led the way. "He's probably up reading or doing something else nerdy. He almost never goes to bed until past midnight."
Feliks thought to the bags under the prince's eyes, and he nodded. "I'll take your word for it."
It was well after dark when Toris received the knock on his door that made him jump so hard he knocked the book he was reading to the ground. Sighing, he dusted it off and put it back on his desk before turning to face the door.
"Who is it?" he asked. He was instantly worried, as either there was an emergency that required his immediate attention, or perhaps it was his father coming back from the feast to scold him again.
"It's me, Toris," answered Raivis.
"Raivis?" Toris asked, confused. "What is it? Is there something wrong-"
He stopped when he opened the door to see not only his younger brother, but Feliks as well. He gave him a curious look, which must have made him uncomfortable as the painter cast his eyes downward and shrunk beside Raivis.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, his brother spoke up. "Feliks here said he wanted to talk to you about the painting or something, and also promised we'd get to have a feast if I showed him where your room was!"
Feliks's face turned pink at the comment. "I-I just promised him we could get a few snacks from the kitchens and talk for a while. But if you're busy I understand-"
"It's okay, I'm not that busy, just doing some, umm, extra studying. And I know my brother well enough to know how he can be sometimes."
"Hey, I'm standing right here!" Raivis pouted.
Toris turned toward his brother, giving him his sternest look. "Rai, it's past your bedtime. You know how Mother feels about you staying up late."
"It'll just be this once, she won't find out! I just wanted to spend some time with you, you're always too busy to do anything with me and Eduard anymore."
"Raivis…"
He widened his eyes, and jutted his bottom lip out into the pout that always pulled on his heartstrings ever since they were kids.
As much as he complains about being treated like a child, he never seems to have a problem using it to get his way, Toris thought yet, he still felt his resolve weaken. He looked over to Feliks, questioning with his eyes if he would be okay with Raivis staying with him. The artist shrugged, and Toris sighed.
"Okay, fine. You can stay, but try not to bother Feliks too much, it's been a long day for us both."
"Thank you, Toris!" Raivis grinned. "I'm gonna go by the kitchen and get some snacks. You want to come too, Feliks?"
"I think Feliks should stay here," Toris interjected. "He could get in trouble if anyone saw him out of his room."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," the younger boy gave Feliks an apologetic look. "Well okay, I'll be back soon!"
After his little brother left, Toris turned his attention to Feliks. "Sorry about him, he can get a little excitable."
"It's fine," Feliks waved him off.
Both men shifted in place, not knowing where to look or what to say. After a minute, Toris finally spoke up.
"Look, I know you feel bad about the painting, but it wasn't your fault. It was an accident that could've happened to anyone."
Feliks snapped out of his daze, and turned toward the oldest prince.
"Maybe, but I just… why did you took the blame for me with the painting? We barely know each other and it was my fault."
"Well…" Toris started. "I guess I figured you were more likely to get into serious trouble than I was, and I'd feel terrible if my father fired you for something that was just a simple mistake. You seem like a nice person, and I guess… I'd like you to stick around so we can get to know each other a little better."
"Oh," Feliks blushed a pretty pink. "Thank you, that was… really nice."
Now it was Toris's turn to blush. "No problem. I'm just glad we didn't get into more trouble than we did. Speaking of trouble, it was a big risk sneaking in here tonight. You could've just waited until morning to talk to me if you wanted to."
Feliks shrugged. "Somethings can't wait. It's important to me that you know I'm grateful."
The conversation died down once again, as Toris looked down at his shoes and Feliks picked at his nails.
"You know, you look really nice in the candlelight"
Toris looked at Feliks, who was now bright red.
"I-I just meant from an artistic perspective! The light really brings out the red undertones in your hair."
"Oh… thank you," Toris said awkwardly.
"... Do you think I could sketch you?"
When Toris looked at Feliks again, he was even redder than before.
"I-I'm sorry, that was a really stupid question. I'm tired and hungry, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore." He walked over to the door and started to walk out.
"I really should get going back to my room and get some sleep. Tell Prince Raivis I wasn't feeling well but would love to have lunch together some other time."
"Feliks, wait!" Toris cried out. "If you're still interested… a sketch would be lovely. I would be honored to be drawn by a great artist such as yourself."
He stopped halfway out the door, and turned back toward Toris.
"I mean… only if you want to, of course."
Feliks beamed at him as though he had just handed him the sky. "Yeah, sure!" Feliks grinned. He closed the door behind him and skipped over to the prince.
"Do you have pen and parchment?"
"Yes, right here!" Toris pulled out his favorite pen and a few sheets of parchment from his desk drawer and handed them to Feliks.
Feliks took a seat on the bed, and stared critically at the prince. "Can you move your head a little to the right? Yeah, and shift your elbow a little more that way. Okay, perfect, stay just like that."
"This position hurts my back, though," Toris complained.
"Well, tough toenails, Mr. Royal Pants."
Toris stared blankly at the artist, before bursting out into laughter.
"Calm down, you're moving too much," Feliks scolded him.
"I'm sorry, but that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life," Toris said, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"Really? Wow, no offense but you really need some more fun in your life. Now, get back into the position you were in and stay, or it's not going to be accurate."
A minute after Feliks got back on task, Raivis came in with his arms full of various foods he found in the kitchen, including six mini pies, three baguettes, three legs of turkey, and a bottle of wine.
"Okay guys, I think I got enough to last for an hour or two," He dropped the food onto Toris's desk. When he turned back to look at them, he gave them a curious look. "Hey, what are you doing?"
Both boys turned to face the youngest. Toris didn't know why, but for some reason he felt embarrassed, as though he and Feliks had been caught in an intimate moment.
"Feliks wanted to get some practice with sketching portraits," Toris explained. "I volunteered as the test subject." He saw Feliks grin at him before looking away.
Raivis's eyes lit up. "Oh, cool! Can you draw me too?" He sat down the food onto Toris's desk, who gently rebuked him to be more careful.
"I don't know Rai, I think Feliks has had enough to do today and it would be rude to ask him to do more."
"No, it's okay, I don't mind at all!" Feliks said. "The more practice the better, right?"
"Are you sure, Feliks?" Toris asked, hoping he wasn't just being polite.
Feliks shrugged. "Yeah, it's totally fine!"
"Awesome! Thank you, Feliks!" Raivis cheered. "You can have first choice of snacks. Do you prefer apple pie or cherry?"
Feliks grinned. "Apple for me, thanks."
A few hours later, and the boys had full bellies and two sketches by Feliks. Toris examined his sketch and smiled at Feliks.
"Thank you for this, Feliks, you did a wonderful job."
Feliks blushed. "Thank you, it was fun to do."
"Raivis, do you like yours-" When Toris turned to face his little brother, he saw that his eyes were growing heavy. He had to admit, his brother could be pretty cute when he wanted to be.
"Hey sleepyhead," He gently shook the younger boy to get his attention.
"Hmm?" he rubbed at his eyes. "What's going on, did I miss something?"
"I think the wine is getting to you," Toris teased. He knelt over and pulled his protesting brother up.
"Come on, it's time for you to go to bed, you're falling asleep on us."
"No I'm not," Raivis protested. "I'm wide awake, see?"
He opened his eyes wide for two seconds before they started growing heavy once again.
"Go to bed, Rai. We can talk later if you want."
After a few more protests, the young prince finally agreed to go to his room, and left.
"You're a good brother, you know that?"
Toris looked toward the blond, and grinned shyly. "Not as good as I should be though. I'm always so busy, studying or attending court with father or learning battlefield strategy or politics… I don't spend nearly enough time with my brothers."
"Well, that's not your fault, though, and I'm sure they understand," Feliks reasoned. "They know you have to train to become king someday, which I think you'll be as good at as being a brother."
"I don't know about that," Toris sighed. "You know, I've been thinking for years that Eduard should have been the firstborn, he'd be such a good king. He's the smartest person I know, he could probably figure out how to keep even the poorest of the peasants from going hungry ever again, and reign in a new era of peace."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short like that! You'd make a great king too; you're one of the nicest people I've ever met, and you'd listen to everyone, the nobles, the tradesman, and even the peasants! No offense, but there's not many kings who would be willing to listen to the plight of the poor."
"I don't know, I think Eduard would." Toris disagreed. "He may seem a little cold and introverted at first glance but he really does care about people. Besides, I know how much he wants it, even though he'd never admit it outloud.
"Toris?" Feliks turned toward him.
"Hmm?"
"Do you even want to be king?"
Toris was silent for a moment. He shifted his position and looked away.
"I-I don't know? I don't think I do. Everytime I even think about being in charge of an entire country's safety, having to marry a woman I haven't even met and train my children to do the same when I die? It makes me sick to my stomach." He dared a glance at Feliks, who was looking at him with as much surprise as he could expect.
"But why? Being a king would be awesome! You get to live in luxury, tell people what to do, you can do whatever you want and no one can tell you not to… it sounds like a dream come true."
Toris sighed. "I know, I know I'm supposed to want it - I mean, who wouldn't want to be the most powerful man in the country! - but I just… don't. No matter how much I try to reason with myself, it just feels wrong. I can't explain it."
Feliks looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I'm sure you'll have help to make the big decisions and stuff! I mean, kings get advisors for a reason, right?"
"True," Toris started, "But if anything were to go wrong, it would still be my fault. And even if that wasn't the case… it still doesn't solve the marriage problem." Feliks gave him a curious look.
"I mean, I guess marrying someone you don't know doesn't sound fun, but I thought it's just what the royals do? Isn't it just a normal thing for you guys?"
"I suppose… but I guess marriage just never seemed like something for me?" Toris explained. "I never felt anything romantic towards anyone before like I was always told I was supposed to, and without love, any marriage I entered into would feel like a sham."
He sighed. "I always knew it was going to happen, I've been promised to Princess Natalya since we were twelve years old, but until now… it just never felt real for some reason, like something I wouldn't have to think about for years and years."
"But then Father told me that the princess is coming to the palace in a few months for the wedding, and it just felt like every fiber of my body has been telling me to run."
Feliks, stunned, was speechless for a few moments. "Oh, I… I had no idea you were so miserable. Perhaps you could talk to your father?"
Toris shook his head. "I tried a couple times, but it's no use; he's set on seeing Natalya and I married before my twentieth birthday. And even if he did relent, I would just have to marry some other princess or noblewoman eventually."
Feliks propped his head up on his hand. "So, are you seriously going to run away though? What if you never get to see your family again?"
"It would be awful if I could never see my brothers again," Toris admitted. "But when I think of what it would mean to stay… it feels like I can barely breath."
"Of course if I was to run away, I'd need a plan and a place to go. Unfortunately I don't know any trades, but after doing some research I found a nearby monastery that I could perhaps join."
He walked over to his desk and picked up the book he was reading before Feliks came in. He opened it to a bookmarked page showing a map of the kingdom on one side, and information about the monastery on the other.
"So… are you telling me your plan is to become a monk?"
"Yes, why?"
Feliks looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"What? What about that is so funny? I could be a good monk! I can read and write well, and it's a occupation of much respect!" Toris protested.
After Feliks's laughter died down, he wiped the tears from his eyes. "I'm not saying it's not or you wouldn't be, but the mental image of you in one of those stupid haircuts or having to wear the same boring robe everyday… I'm sorry, it's just too much."
"Feliks, they're holy men!" He scolded.
"Yes, and look at their hair! Toris, come on, you can't tell me that's a good look," he pointed to a picture of a monk with a tonsure.
"Well okay fine but fashion isn't the point-"
Feliks just looked at him, and Toris sighed.
"Okay, you're right, it's terrible."
"Thank you," Feliks said.
"But if I'm not going to be a monk, what else can I do?"
"Something else," Feliks answered. "Is there anything other than reading and writing that you're good at?"
"Well," Toris began. "I'm good at math, so I would probably be good at managing finances with a business. And my mother and I used to have a small garden that we would tend to. Perhaps I could learn how to grow vegetables, herbs and spices."
"Hmm, that could maybe work," Feliks agreed. "You could take shelter in the monastery for a while until you could find a place to start your business."
"Yeah!" Toris agreed. He smiled at Feliks. "Thank you for helping me, I really appreciate it."
Feliks smiled at the compliment, but the more he thought about it, the less sense this all made. "Toris, don't get me wrong, I like you a lot, but why are you trusting me with all this information?" Feliks asked. "You've only known me for a day, and yet you're telling me all this. Why?"
"Well, I-" Toris stopped himself. He didn't know why he was telling Feliks all this information when he could use it against him.
"I suppose," he began, "I just get this feeling that you're a safe person to talk to, I could never talk to my brothers about any of this. And I was hoping maybe you could help me escape?"
Feliks blinked. "Are you serious? If I helped the prince and heir to the throne escape from the palace, your father would behead me in an instant."
"You could come with me, if you want," Toris offered. "It's still a risk, but at least we would be together. If we get caught and my father demands your head, I'll make him come through me to get to it."
Feliks sighed. "Don't take this the wrong way, Toris, but you're insane."
"Maybe so, but this way we'd be free and always have company to talk to! I could garden and manage the finances, you could paint and draw. It won't be as glamorous as life in the palace, but it could still be a good life."
"You'd really want to run away with me?" Feliks asked incredulously.
"I mean… would you want to?"
Feliks contemplated the question. "Well, I have always wanted to be able to run my own business and decide what I want to create… but what if we fail? What if we never even get the shop running?"
Toris sighed. "I'd rather take the risk and go than stay here, Feliks, I feel like I'm suffocating. But if you don't want to come with me, I understand."
"Well, against my better judgement… I'll come with you, if you want me too. It's been years since I had a real friend I could talk to," Feliks decided.
"I feel the same way," Toris felt his heart grow warm. He was going to get to leave and he was going to have a friend with him too!
A sudden burst of laughter escaped from his lips. "Oh my god, this is crazy! I can't believe I'm finally going to be free!"
The boys grinned at one another, the excitement of conspiracy overtaking them.
They agreed to meet up again the next night, after it was dark out and Toris's parents and brothers were fast asleep in their rooms. Feliks had his bags packed and was just waiting for Toris in his room. He could feel the fear and excitement in his stomach. A future with Toris by his side sounded like an adventure that would never end.
As he was getting lost in his thoughts, he heard a barely audible knock on his door. He ran over to open it, and rushed Toris inside.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, panting. "I wanted to write a letter to my brothers to let them know I'm safe."
"You didn't mention where we're going, did you?"
"No, of course not, I'm not that stupid. But I don't want Raivis crying every night thinking I was kidnapped or dead."
"Yeah, I don't really want to know what the king would do if he thought I kidnapped you…" Feliks muttered. Toris took his hands into his.
"Hey, don't worry, we're going to be fine, okay?"
Feliks nodded, comforted by Toris's presence. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, I just grabbed a few bare essentials." Toris patted his bag.
"Okay, let's go, then."
As they made their way through the castle halls, with Feliks following Toris's lead, they eventually came to a door right next to the kitchen that lead to the Royal Family's stables.
"Okay, so we're just going to go through here, get my horse, and go-"
"Toris? Feliks? What are you guys doing?"
Both boys whipped their heads around to see tiny Raivis behind them, in his pajamas and a bread basket in his hands.
"Raivis! What are you doing up?" Toris questioned him. He was trying to look stern, but Feliks could see the fear in his eyes.
"I woke up and got hungry," he answered, holding up the bread. "Mrs. Héderváry sometimes forgets to put away the bread after it cools down."
Toris sighed. "You know you really should stop doing that, Mother wouldn't like it if she knew you were eating this late."
"I was hungry," Raivis protested. "And you're up too! What are you doing up this late?"
Feliks watched as Toris looked back and forth from him to his brother. "We -Feliks and I- well, we have to go somewhere, it's an urgent matter."
"Oh really! What is it?"
Toris turned to Feliks, silently pleading for help. Feliks shrugged.
"It's a secret, Raivis, but you'll find out soon enough."
The younger boy looked back and forth between Feliks and Toris. "But that doesn't make any sense! Why can't you just tell me now?"
"We just can't, Rai. Just, try to go to sleep and forget you even saw us."
"Did Father send you out to do something? But it would be weird for him to send you out so late…" The boy's eyes widened. "Oh my god, are we under attack?!" he cried.
"What? No, it's not anything like that, calm down," Toris squeezed his shoulder and made sure Raivis was breathing normally again before he let go.
"It's… a personal mission, I suppose you could say. No one knows about it, except for the three of us, and I'd like to keep it that way," Toris explained.
"Well, how come he gets to go with you and I can't?" Raivis protested, pointing at Feliks. "I'm your brother, it's not fair!"
Toris sighed. "It involves Feliks, but it doesn't involve you, that's why."
Raivis pouted. "I can come with you, I promise I won't tell Father or Mother or even Eduard, you can trust me!"
"We can't do that, Rai."
"Why not?!"
"Because it's going to be a long trip, a really long one. You don't want to come with us, trust me."
Raivis's looked at the bags they carried, and his entire face changed.
"You guys are running away, aren't you?"
Both Toris and Feliks became tense. They shared a quick glance, while Toris exhaled.
"Yes, we are leaving, for good."
Toris didn't know what reaction he was expecting when those words came out of his mouth. Maybe he expected Raivis to get angry, break down into tears, or even go off and tell their parents. But instead, Raivis just stared at the ground.
"So… you weren't even going to say goodbye first?"
Toris gave him a sympathetic look and kneeled down so they were of equal height. "I really wanted to, but I didn't know how you'd react. I wrote you a letter explaining everything."
The smaller boy looked at his brother with tears in his eyes. "That's not the same as telling me first. Will you even miss me?"
"Oh, Rai," He pulled the boy into a tight hug. "Of course I will, I'll think about you all the time. But, I just can't stay anymore. I wouldn't make a good king."
"I'd think you'd make a good king," he responded, voice thick from crying.
"Well, it's just… let me put it this way. Remember when you insisted to Mother that you take sword lessons with me and Eduard? And no matter how much she told you that you were too young and too small, you kept fighting for those lessons because it just felt like something you had to do?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, this is a little like that for me. It's just something I have to do."
Raivis stared at his brother for a minute before nodding. "You promise I'll get to see you again?"
Toris gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course. It might be a while, but I will figure something out. There's no way I'm abandoning you, Rai."
Raivis pulled his brother into a tight hug. "I'll miss you,"
Toris returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I'll miss you too."
It was an ordinary day at the shop. A few customers came in to admire Feliks's artwork, an elderly man came in to ask Toris a question about the healing herbs he was selling for his back pain. Toris watched Feliks work on a new commission he got in the corner of the store while he swept up the floor. Just ten years ago a life like this would have seemed impossible for him but now he couldn't see it any other way.
He and Feliks spent two years together before they finally confessed that their feelings for one another went beyond friendship. Feliks was the one who confessed first, admitted that he had similar feelings to men in the past, and when he described what it felt like to him, Toris soom realized he reciprocated those feelings.
As he was lost in his thoughts, the door behind him opened. When Toris looked behind him to see who it was, he dropped his broom.
"Raivis!" he exclaimed. He ran over towards him and pulled him into a bear hug. Feliks rushed over to greet the prince when he heard the commotion.
"Hey, Raivis, long time no see! I see you've had a growth spurt since the last time I saw you, you're as tall as me!
Raivis rolled his eyes. "It's nice to see you too, Feliks.
Toris turned his attention to the woman by his brother's side. "Hello, miss! Are you friends with my brother?"
The petite woman grinned. "Well, I suppose you could say that."
Raivis grinned and gestured to the woman. "This is Princess Erika, we're due to be married in a week. I spent months tracking you down so I could ask if you and Feliks would be interested in attending the wedding?"
Feliks gasped. "A wedding?! Toris, we have to go, I always wanted to attend a royal wedding!"
Toris laughed at his partner's enthusiasm. "Well, you know I'd love to go, but what about Mother and Father?"
"Well, I don't think that will be a problem," Raivis said. "Father has been off fighting in battle for several months, and Mother can barely get out of bed at the moment."
"What's wrong, is she ill?!"
Raivis nodded. "Yes, but the apothecary is convinced it's only a temporary illness, and with proper treatment she will be fine. She's upset about missing the wedding but she'll be better in no time."
As they continued to talk about the changes in their life ("Eduard married Princess Natalya a year after you ran away. She's kind of intense, but they seem happy") to the success of Toris and Feliks's store ("I knew you would find a way to make it work, you were always smart") Toris again couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten; his own business, the love of his life, and a happy, confident little brother who was marrying someone it was obvious he loved. If only he realized what fate had in store for him when he was younger, he would have relished every day of his life because it was bringing him closer to this point in time.
He was the luckiest man he ever knew.