Chapter 10: A Step Forward

Asbel's head was throbbing.

He shuffled in his bed, hoping that, by finding a new position, he could subdue the pain in his temples. But no amount of tossing around helped, and he found himself unable to return to sleep. Defeated, the lord slowly opened his eyes, jumping up as he realized he wasn't in his room in Lhant manor. Where...?

Oh, right. Yu Liberte. The party.

...The party!

His heavy lids shot open. What had happened? He struggled to remember, to brave through the fog that clouded the previous night's memories. Why was he feeling so... hung-over? When did he drink? Asbel focused on his last clear vision, which was Richard, dancing... with other people. Yes, he remembered now. He had been jealous, so jealous it hurt like a knife, so jealous he had to leave the room and swallow down a whole drink to suppress the pain. But the pain remained; it remained until he felt the touch on his shoulder, until he turned to see Richard by his side. Then, the pain disappeared... and along with it, so did his memories. Whatever he had left were flashes of varying clearness, images that might've belonged to either reality or dreams. The first was a short dialogue while sitting on a stone bench; that felt quite clear, and plausible. It must have happened, then. The next... Asking Richard for a dance. Asbel really wanted to do it, even when he was sober, so did he actually...? Maybe the alcohol gave him the confidence to do so... What next? The following flashes were so... confusing. There was a dance, eventually, but it was among many flashes of touching, things that Asbel just couldn't believe had happened. Were they all just dreams? Holding Richard's hand, then his entire body, nuzzling against his neck, and...

A kiss.

Unconsciously, Asbel's fingertips rose to touch his own lips, as if trying to recall what it had felt like. His whole body had been numb with alcohol, but he could swear it had been soft, sweet, and every other pleasant word he could come up with. Had it been a drunken hallucination, or reality...?

Asbel gripped the sheets. It didn't matter. It didn't matter whether it had really happened; because, whether it had been real or not, he knew that what he now felt... was real. The tightness in his chest, the dryness in his throat, it went beyond the aftereffects of alcohol. But why? Why would he be attracted to Richard, his best friend, his king, a male?

Of course, Richard was different. He had always been. From the moment they first met, so many years ago, Asbel had felt that Richard was... special. As soon as he saw the sad expression upon the young prince's face, Asbel had wanted to protect him; whether from furtive assassins or from crushing loneliness, it didn't matter. For Richard, Asbel would fight the most dangerous opponents, or sit with him through the darkest of nights, holding his friend until he could smile...

Holding him.

It was what Asbel wanted to do now. Even if Richard was already happy, even if he had the biggest grin ever across his face, Asbel still wanted to embrace him, to feel his warmth, the softness of his skin, the tenderness of his lips... It wasn't only about making Richard happy, there was also Asbel's own... desire.

Could this feeling be...?

Unbeknown to Asbel, the cause of his reflections was just outside his door. Richard had been standing there for a few minutes, trying to muster enough courage to knock. His heart had been out of pace ever since the previous night... Ever since he kissed the sleeping lord. Asbel's eyes had been open when their lips parted, and Richard had desperately fumbled for words, trying to apologize for what he had just done... But before a coherent sound could escape his lips, Asbel drifted off to sleep again.

And now, the monarch couldn't stop wondering whether his friend would remember the previous night's events - and how Asbel's reaction to his presence would be. He reluctantly raised one of his hands and very softly knocked on the door, half hoping that Asbel wouldn't answer.

However, a faint voice did come from within, "Yes?"

Richard breathed deeply, and rested his head against the wooden frame. "Asbel, it is I. May I come in?"

"S-Sure..."

The monarch turned the knob, opening the unlocked door. Inside, Asbel was sitting on his bed, still wearing the same clothes he had in the party. Their former elegance was dulled by a myriad of wrinkles and crumples, though it was still nowhere near as messy as the lord's bed hair.

"Are you feeling better, Asbel...?" Richard asked, testing the waters.

"Well... Other than having a bit of a hangover... I'm okay." The lord scratched the back of his head, his nervous gaze jumping between different pieces of furniture. "I'm... I'm sorry for troubling you, Richard. I can't even remember what happened last night."

Richard sighed; partly relieved, and partly disappointed. "It's alright, Asbel. Just promise me to drink more responsibly next time. You have a surprisingly low alcohol tolerance." He moved to sit next to his friend, his heart increasing in pace as he did so. Richard wanted to run his fingers through those disheveled auburn locks, but for now, he didn't dare touch Asbel. "Our turtlez transport will be leaving in an hour. Do you think you can be ready by then?"

"I'll be ready," Asbel confirmed, smiling faintly. Richard smiled back, getting up to return to his room. As much as he wanted to spend more time with Asbel, he was having a hard time facing him at the moment.

"Hey, Richard?" the lord muttered, causing his friend to pause shortly before he could close the door. "For being with me... Even though I was such a burden... T-Thank you."

"You're welcome, Asbel," Richard replied, finally shutting the door as he did so. And, as the king made his way back to his room, unsaid words kept ringing in his head; 'No matter what, Asbel... I'll always want to be with you.'

Would Richard ever have the courage to speak them out?

Their journey back to Windor was a silent one. Both men were trying to sort out their thoughts, and so the words exchanged were few. Asbel spent most of the time fidgeting and occasionally slipping shy glances at Richard, who appeared lost in his own world. And, once it was time for them to part, their goodbye was restrained, and left Asbel with a lingering pain in his chest.

During the following days, the lord couldn't stop recollecting the events in Yu Liberte. He felt as if his mind was permanently clouded, as if the inebriation had never left him; the fog was a barrier, keeping him from thinking clearly, making him unable to figure out what in the world he felt... what he felt for Richard. And so, his torment went on, until one afternoon proved to turn out different.

It started with the usual soft knocking on his study's door, which always preceded a notice from Frederic. Once the butler was inside, he announced, "Lord Asbel, you have a visitor."

Asbel raised his eyebrows in surprise. Unannounced visitors weren't rare, but anything unexpected always left him slightly curious. "Please let them in, Frederic."

The older man bowed and disappeared behind the wooden frame. Shortly later, the door was opened again...

"Captain!" Asbel jumped from his chair, both shocked and happy to see his former instructor.

"Hello, Asbel. Looks like you really did miss me, eh?" Malik stated through a grin.

"W-Well, it's been ages since I last saw you... Besides, I wasn't expecting you!"

The former captain trod across the room to sit on the chair Asbel had previously been occupying. "I don't need to announce myself to a humble lord. Who do you think you are, King Richard?" he teased, leaning back in his seat.

Asbel tried not to flinch at the mention of Richard's name. "Ha, very funny, Captain," he started, composing himself, "I hope you don't mind sleeping outside, then, since this humble lord might happen to be out of guestrooms."

"As if you'd ever have enough visitors to fill the mansion," Malik replied, as he proceeded to rest his feet on the desk, "And I don't plan on staying the night, either way. I only made a brief stop to greet my dear former student. I'm actually on my way to Barona."

"You're going to... see Richard?" Asbel inquired, his voice sounding strangely stiff.

"Yes. We're discussing a new trade policy between Fendel and Windor." Placing his feet back on the floor, Malik stood up, and moved to stand with his arms crossed in front of the young lord. "Asbel, did something happen between you and King Richard?"

"W-Why would you say that?" he stuttered, face reddening.

"I found your reaction to be odd when I first mentioned him, but I tried not to dwell on it. However, I just couldn't ignore how abnormal your voice sounded when you said his name."

Asbel felt transparent in front of Malik's piercing gaze, as if he could stare straight into his brain. "It's just your imagination, Captain," the young lord said, in an attempt to shrug the topic off. Then, hastily, he made for the door, "I was about to have lunch. You can eat, too, if you want." Asbel hoped he wouldn't.

"That's a tempting offer. I suppose I'll have to accept it, given how having a meal in the road shouldn't be very pleasant," Malik replied, giving his former student a teasing pat on the back. Asbel frowned, but having made the offer, he couldn't send his guest away now.

It just wouldn't be gentlemanly.

And so, Malik joined Asbel, Sophie and Lady Kerri in the dining room. In front of his former student's mother, Malik was an angel, though the young lord knew quite well that, as soon as she turned her back on him, the Captain would resume his habit of prattling to Sophie. Still, he must've had some new agenda, for as soon as the meal was over, it was to Asbel that Malik turned, "How about we men have coffee in your study, Asbel?"

The lord raised an eyebrow, but complied. Frederic brought a tray to the study, and as soon as he left, Malik started, "So, Asbel. I heart you broke up with Cheria?"

The young lord nearly spilled his drink. "What?! W-Where did you hear that?!"

"Pascal told me," Malik answered, amused at the boy's reaction. "Now, Asbel, if there is one thing I know, is that we men don't run from such a lovely lady unless we have someone else in mind. Therefore, I can't help but believe that you are hiding your new sweetheart from us."

"I-I... Captain..." Asbel looked down at the dark liquid swirling in his cup. "I don't know. I don't know if... if I'm really in love."

"My poor inexperienced student!" Malik placed his untouched coffee on the tray, relegating it completely. "Should I teach you about what being in love feels like?"

The lord raised his gaze, his eyes wide. "Y-Yes! I don't... I don't want to make the same mistake again."

"Well, Asbel, I find it unlikely that you would - at least in the exact same way. You see, love is when friendship and attraction come together. It's common for people to mistake attraction alone for love, but friendship?" He pointed a finger at his former student. "You, Asbel, are one of a kind. You weren't attracted to Cheria - heavens know why - but you still convinced yourself that you were in love with her as not to hurt her feelings. Usually, however, it is the other way around. People find someone attractive, and they begin idealizing a relationship with them, when all they actually want is to tumble into bed with said person."

Asbel frowned. "I don't think that is my case, Captain."

"Are you sure, Asbel?" Malik leaned forward, staring intently into the young lord's eyes. "Tell me, do you want to make that person happy, above all else?"

"Yes!"

"And do you want to be by their side, no matter what happens?"

"I do!"

"Would you even be willing to sacrifice yourself for them?"

"I would!"

Malik smiled, his gaze softening. "I see. Now, the final question: on top of all that, do you often fantasize about making sweet, sweet love to that person?"

Asbel's face gained a shade of pink, as he stuttered, "I... I d-do."

"Really? How often?"

"...R-Recently... A-At l-least o-once a d-day..." The poor lord was crimson now.

"Good! You are in love, Asbel Lhant." Malik stood up, in triumph. "I believe my work here is done, then. I'd better get on the road." As the Captain walked towards the door, Asbel remained in his seat, his head hanging low as to hide his persistent embarrassment. "Oh, Asbel?" Malik said as was about to leave, throwing a sideways glance at his former student. Once the young lord mustered enough courage to look back at him, he added, "Good luck confessing to King Richard," before immediately closing the door.

It was a shame that Malik didn't get to see Asbel's gaping mouth.