After the first scream, mayhem was imminent.
Dan sent the prince a confused look through the frenzy of people, all pointing towards the front of the room. Women were weeping, men screaming. But he couldn't see why; after all, there had been no gun shot. No one appeared to be bleeding or openly hurt.
Only once had he seen such an uproar; ten years ago, during a parade. A man had pulled out a knife and started to stab another in a fit of drunken rage. He had accused the victim of cheating with his wife, but no one was to ever find out if that was true. The woman killed herself not a week after the incident.
Phil disappeared behind several guards. The fear on his face was obvious enough for Dan to stand, only to be pushed back by a soldier. After a moment, the crowd began to open up and he was able to see the source of the chaos.
The air around him suddenly grew cold.
The king was being carried by several men. He was twitching, holding a hand over his chest. A light sheen of sweat covered his face.
As he was carried out the door, the man only shouted one thing: "Kill him, do it now!"
Seeming to understand this hazy message, a group of guards grabbed Dan from behind, dragging him from the room and ignoring his protests. Phil could only watch helplessly as the chapel doors swung behind him.
? ゚フル?
Phil stormed into the room, doors flying open in front of him. The wedding cape he was wearing had fallen off somewhere between the chapel and the sickroom, pulled off under one of several hundred pairs of feet.
His father lay in the bed before him. It had only happened a few minutes ago, really-the chaos, the screaming. His father's writhing, making it seem as though his body had been possessed by some sort of devil. And blinks before that he had been normal. Calculating and cut-off and regal and his father. Tall and strong and never wavering.
His father had always been pale, as had Phil. But now the king's skin had reddened, and he looked as though he were choking for breath. However, the breaths came in and out just the same. He was a strong man; Phil had no doubt he would survive whatever this curse was.
He just didn't know if he wanted him to.
One on hand, there was the man he loved. The one who had cared for him and laughed kindly at his attempts to act like a king at the ripe age of five, who had rolled around with him in the mud on days when the weather was ruining Phil's mood. The man was was a father and simply that.
But then there was the king. The one who wasn't afraid to hurt people, even Phil himself, to get what he wanted. Who was weak and strong in all the wrong ways, the ways that got people killed and tormented. Who couldn't seem to make a strong decision without anyone dying.
He had taught Phil how to be, and how not to be.
"Father...sir, how are you? Well? Do you need water?" Phil stood, fidgeting, at the edge of the bed. The king had always seemed so tall, impossibly big and important, but now he was small. Weak. It made the prince uncomfortable to see.
"No." He blinked slowly. "No, don't. Just...sit, here."
He waved his hand tiredly and a servant stepped away from the wall, dragging up a chair for Phil to sit on. The screech echoed across the room as a reminder of the situation's awkwardness.
The king took a deep breath, breath rattling. "I think this is the end for me, my son."
"Don't say that." Phil took his father's hand in his, squeezing it once, tightly. He could tell the king was trying to return the gesture but was far too weak.
"It's true, and you know it. I just...I have a few things to say to you before I go."
The guards, as though sensing the underlying message, all bowed and left the room. Most of them seemed to be slightly relieved.
"First, I need you to go through with this wedding. More than anything, this will ensure our country's good future. I know you have...feelings for this Daniel, but the bloodline is more important. This empire is more important." He spoke passionately, voice rising. "You have been born and raised into this position, and I only wish I had more time. Time to help you grow, guide you in these first few months. See you marry your beautiful fiance."
"I know, father."
"This is more important than anything. You can't waste this."
"I know."
"Then you'll understand why I had to do what I did."
Phil's pulse slowed. The world seemed to spin a little slower, throwing his entire world out of balance. "What do you mean?" He asked, voice barely a whisper. He stood, the chair falling behind him. "What did you do to him?"
His father fell back against the pillows wearily. "I have to, Phillip. hell knows I've killed enough, but what's one more for the good of you, the good of this kingdom? Heaven will have to let me in after all I've done. Don't be so unreasonable-he doesn't love you, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"We talked about a week ago." He mustered a sympathetic look. "He's a servant, you know. He can't muster the feelings to love; even if he could, it wouldn't be for you. It's simply not done."
Phil backed out the door, shaking his head. Tears pooled in his eyes as he attempted to hold back the words he wanted to spit out. They would only hurt whoever they reached. And, as they would directed towards his father, he knew he just couldn't do it.
No one should die believing they were not loved.
Alice and Daniella were sitting in the hallway. In their hands and surrounding them were dozens of flowers and petals. Each of them were picking off the petals on the flowers (daisies and lilies and roses) and playing He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not. The two girls giggled to each other, not seeming to notice Phil standing in front of them.
He cleared his throat. The two of them looked up boredly, making it impossible for him not to smile. Phil remembered how shaky and nervous Alice had been when she first came to the palace. Now she was as cynical and confident as her brother. Somehow, this death trap had become her home.
"Don't you want to see him?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. "It might be your last chance. You don't want to regret this kind of thing for the rest of your life."
She shrugged, throwing down the flower that she was fidgeting with and pushing herself to her feet. "He won't let me in. I've already tried, but he doesn't want to see me. I guess I'm just not important enough."
Daniella stormed away, leaving Alice to stumble behind her.
Phil wanted to follow her, to be the big brother she needed, but there were more important things to deal with first.
? ゚フル?
The stone in the prison blocked out any and all light, and it was driving Dan insane. It was impossible to tell how long he had been locked away, whether it be hours or minutes.
It didn't help that he was afraid of the dark. Not just the things in it, but the actual blackness itself. When he was in it, it felt like something was crushing around him. Like a physical force, thick and choking.
He heard voices and the door to the cell hall opened. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, light flowed into the room.
After so long, Dan recognized Phil just but the shadow he cast. He stood at the now-open door, arms folded. Next to the guard, even he looked impossibly small.
"Let me in." His voice echoed against the stone walls. "I swear to God, I will kill you if you don't let me in. I will kill you and your family and anyone you have ever known and or loved if you do not let me the fuck in."
The other man stepped aside out of surprise, but it was enough. The prince stormed through, looking wildly into each cell.
"Over here!" Dan jumped off what called for a bed in this hell, grabbing onto the bars.
Phil sprinted over, taking Dan's hands through the gaps. "Daniel." He breathed, eyes searching Dan's face for injuries. "How are you? Did anyone hurt you? Are you thirsty, hungry?"
"No, I'm fine," he lied. In truth, his already shaking leg felt like it was going to fall off from the bumpy drag over and his head was pounding.
"Are you sure? I could bring you some pillows, blankets. Better food than whatever slop the serve in this place." Dan would've been surprised if they served any. "Anything, just name it."
"Nothing. There's nothing you can bring me that would make this place any better, and that's the truth we both know. Just...tell Alice I love her. The others, too. Make sure Phillip's grave is never empty of color. That's the only thing that could make me happy now. To know that someone is watching after them."
Dan knew that, no matter how Phil fought, he would never leave this place alive. The king would make sure of it, wherever he was. He was glad he had at least been able to see the prince this one last time before Phil's father put an end to it.
Scratch that-he wasn't glad. It settled something for him, to be sure. No one would torture someone so painfully if they were just going to die soon. It gave a sense of finality to everything. His hope. His wild imagination, wondering how the very limits of his mind and body would be put to the test. His life. But it was also so, so hard to see Phil, standing there in his tattered wedding garments and attempting to hold a smile. To be so close to the one he loved and not able to do anything more than hold his hand.
Dan used to think luck was on his side. He had managed to secure a well-paying job at the palace and find a friend in his employer. His sister was about to enter a strong, loving marriage and he knew that one day his brothers would do the same. But after that, when the sun had set and dew had soaked those pairs of boats what felt like lifetimes ago, everything changed.
Now he knew that his fate wasn't his. It was up to God, or the gods, and they were playing a cruel game indeed.
"You didn't tell me you talked to my father."
Dan looked up from the dirt-covered and stained floor, stomach twisting. Phil's voice was quiet, but echoed against the walls. He had heard that they were made that way, so guards could hear prisoner's very breaths. That way, no one could plan an escape. "I didn't think it would matter."
Looking at the prince, Dan could tell that it most definitely did.
"Look, Phil, he hated me anyways. Nothing I said would've made it worse or better, and I think you know that, too." He let go of the other's hand and collapsed on the ground, exhausted. "In case that was going to be your next big discovery, he's the accident I had with my leg. I woke up and there was a long gash in the side of it. It's been bleeding all week."
Phil peered at him doubtfully. "That's not what he said."
"Well, who are you going to believe, then?" Dan snapped, causing the guards to break from the walls just slightly. "The one who loves you or the one who gave you those scars?"
"I don't know who to believe anymore."
Phil pulled away from the bars. The glisten in his eyes was visible even through the dark. Dan pushed himself up painfully, using the wall for support. "Wait, Phil," The prince stopped, turning his head slightly to show Dan had his attention. "At least tell me when it's going to be."
"Tomorrow."
Phil turned away. The only sound to follow for many hours was the sound of the door closing, the guard's feet as they paced, and Dan's gentle sobs as he thought of what was to come.
