Harold lay sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his bed-chamber in silence. He didn't want to move, didn't want to get up to start preparing for the undoubtedly long day ahead of him. He knew it would be a tiring one. Politics. Economics. Planning. All things that he wasn't exactly in the mood for, but were his responsibility as the leader of the country. Harold, as the king of Dorthore, had more responsibilities in life than most men his age, but he didn't mind those responsibilities. On most days, at least.
The King sighed gently. The maids had finished filling his bath a few minutes before and it was best that he took to it sooner rather than later otherwise the water would cool. He hated bathing in cold water.
Harold rose from his bed, and just as he did, the servant's passage door opened up. For a brief moment, he was annoyed. He didn't want any more company from the maids. He was more than capable of cleaning himself. He did not need their help. But it wasn't a maid that had walked into his bed-chamber.
It was Eins.
"Harold," he said as he shut the door. "I hope I'm not bothering, but then again I don't really care if I am."
"No. Of course you haven't," he replied as he blearily rubbed his eyes.
"Good. I've prepared everything for our guest's arrival. Speaking of which, you've procrastinated until the last possible moment to get ready, like always," Eins stated, eyeballing Harold's nightclothes.
Harold rolled his eyes. Sometimes Eins sounded oddly reminiscent of his sister and even his late mother. That fact was troubling at times. Eins was supposed to be his best friend and advisor. Nothing else.
"I don't know how you even see in here with it so dark," Eins said as he crossed the room and threw open the curtains, spreading light throughout Harold's bed-chamber.
"It's because I'm not blind like you are, four-eyes," Harold grumbled.
If Eins were one of the maids, Harold would have scolded him for letting the light in. His eyes were not yet adjusted. He was not awake enough to have the glaring sunlight around him. He preferred to wake up slowly. But Eins was not a maid and Eins would be very quick to scold him back if he even tried to address the issue. So instead, Harold trudged over to the screen that separated his bath from the rest of the room.
Eins was not pleased with his speed.
"Honestly, Harold. You have to operate with a sense of urgency. You have guests arriving soon."
Yes, their guest. He was due to arrive within the next hour or so. Harold was so far behind. He hadn't done anything to prepare himself, but then again, he didn't want to.
"I'm well aware," Harold said.
"Then why aren't you already bathed?" Eins asked. His fingertips had risen to his temples, very obviously attempting to massage away an ache that Harold's loafing had caused.
"Because I'd rather you join me," Harold said.
The words had fallen unbidden from Harold's lips before he could even think to stop them. He hadn't really even thought them in the first place, but somewhere along the lines, his miserable subconscious had. Now that they were in the open for the pair of them to both hear, it was all Harold wanted.
"You and I both know that that is not advisable, Harold," Eins said.
Harold shrugged and quirked a brow in Eins' direction. "When has that ever stopped us before?"
It seemed that Eins couldn't dispute this. In three quick strides, Eins managed to cross over to Harold. All hesitation had been thrown to the wind. Their lips crashed together. The rest was a blur. Clothes disappeared. Bare skin came into contact with bare skin. They sank down into the water of the bathtub. Tender lips brushed the sensitive spots below Harold's chin and a rush of ecstasy coursed through him. All of his senses were alive and in overdrive, greedily sucking in every sensation he was exposed to. All sensical things in his mind, however, had gone as far out the window as they possibly could. All because of the man that was across from him in the bathtub.
Eins.
This was out of hand. Things had gotten out of hand, but then again, when Eins was around, all sense left Harold's mind. It didn't matter that this wasn't a smart match up. It didn't matter that Eins was a dear friend to him. It didn't matter that Eins was Harold's advisor and his job description clearly restricted this sort of relationship between the pair of them.
Everything about him - the slenderness and leanness of his torso, the way Harold's hands could rest like puzzle pieces on his hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest that was in time to his rhythmic heartbeat, the way he could tangle his fingers into his long, dark hair - left Harold completely and utterly intoxicated. He could easily stay there with Eins forever, feeling the gentle slopes of his body, stealing heated and sensual kisses and never coming up for air. He could have and would have if Eins did not have one fatal flaw.
He had too damn much dedication to his job.
"Harold," Eins breathed between kisses. "Harold? We need to stop. We need to get moving. It's late."
Harold shook his head and pulled Eins closer to himself. The water in the bathtub shifted gently. The other man kissed Harold again and then gently pushed the King again.
"As much as I would love to be here with you, Harold, I don't fancy the idea of sitting in the water once it turns cold," Eins said as he lifted himself from the tub. Water streamed down his slender skin in thin rivulets. "Besides. I have our guest to greet, and seeing as how you're going to take your time getting ready, I'll have to stall our guest until you arrive."
"Unfortunately," Harold breathed loudly.
"You are the one who agreed to this, Harold," Eins said as he wrapped a towel around his waist. "It's all for the political and economical gain of Dorthore. It's what's best."
Harold rolled his eyes. It was so much like Eins to bring politics up right after they'd shared such intimate moments. That infallible work ethic made things so difficult.
"Again, unfortunately," Harold said.
"You know we'll have to stop this soon," Eins said. And then a pause. "Unfortunately."
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Harold said.
But, of course, Eins was correct. Politics demanded a change. The state of Dorthore's economy had demanded it as well.
The conversation that needed to be had hung heavy in the air, but it was one that neither of them were willing to start. Harold and Eins had been seeing one another in secret for several years. They'd been through everything together from the concerns of Dorthore to the emotional traumas of daily life. Harold couldn't imagine his life without Eins simply as his advisor and friend, but in the dark hours of the night when his mind wandered... Somehow, Eins always knew he was needed.
Harold glanced Eins' way. In the time that he had been lost in his thoughts, Eins had managed to restore himself to the way he had entered the room. It was as if they hadn't shared an intimate moment at all. Harold leaned back in the tub, watching him.
"The longer we wait to do this, Harold, the harder it will be," Eins said, his voice low and raw with... Was that emotion?
Harold didn't have the chance to ask Eins if he was okay. He was gone before he had the chance to let the words slip past his lips. Gone. Out through the servants' passage, hiding his emotions the best he could. Harold rubbed his face and let out a groan. Why did life have to throw such curveballs at him? Eins wasn't supposed to feel any attachment. He always denied feeling any strong attachments. Why was he feeling some now? Why when they had to cut ties in the least painful way possible? Why did this have to be so difficult? Deep down, Harold knew why. He had taken Eins' words at face value. He had never dug deeper to see what the man was actually feeling. It was Harold's own foolishness that was making this harder than it needed to be. But love made things difficult, didn't it?
Harold sat in the tub until the water started to get cold and goosebumps started to form on the surface of his skin. By then he figured he'd procrastinated for long enough. The political and economic unrest would not fix itself while Harold took a leisurely soak in the tub. Harold rose from the water and wrapped a towel around his waist.
Dorthore was actually in much rougher shape than he would have liked to admit. It was becoming increasingly difficult to trade with neighboring countries of Forrod and Debenrald because of Dorthore's religious standpoint. They had openly pronounced their atheism several years ago, and as a cascading spiral effect, the country had lost quite a few trade connections as time wore on. Harold had been trying fruitlessly for two years to reestablish any times that he could without pronouncing any form of faith in the primary religion of the world, Sildren. It had proved to be more exhausting than the venture had initially let on. Lucky for him, however, Forrod, the religious center of the world, had given him the necessary opening he needed to reestablish Dorthor on the world stage just two months ago. The high priest had a premonition from God, telling him that it was now acceptable to consort with atheists. They simply had to try their hardest to spread the religious word in any attempt to convert the atheists from their heathenous ways.
Harold figured that Forrod, too, was hurting economically after cutting their trade ties with Dorthore. Proclaiming a premonition from God to fix their problems was something the High Priest was known for. Something similar had happened just ten years before when Forrod's King's dearest cousin was found having sexual relations with a man. Rather than execute him on the premise of being gay, the High Priest had a 'premonition' the morning of the execution, sparing the King's cousin's life. Forrod had had openly gay people for the last decade since. It was part of the reason Harold could form an alliance with Forrod aside from their newfound acceptance of his atheistic views.
One of the maids assisted Harold in preparing himself in some of his most regal attire for the meeting ahead of him. Finally, once his crown was atop his head and not a hair was out of place, Harold left his bed-chamber, starting toward the throne room to meet his guest.
The man he was meeting was the centerpiece of his alliance with Forrod. Prince Erart Avington, son of King Adleherd Avington of Forrod. He was the reason for the pain in both and Eins' hearts. But he was also what was going to save Dorthore from crumbling.
Harold had met with the prince's father two months before, just days after Forrod had announced that it would do business with the likes of atheists.
The sitting-rooms in the Avington's palace were grand, just as the royal family displayed themselves to be. The people said the monarchy was descended from angels, and if Harold bought into all of that religious crap, he might have actually believed it. These sitting rooms weren't even a main portion of the palace, and they were garbed in lavish amounts of gold and silver and white. The brightness of it all honestly made Harold's eyes hurt. King Adleherd joined Harold in the room not long after Harold's arrival. Upon his entrance, he and Harold shook hands cordially declaring to the other in the room, Eins included, that this was to be a peaceful and productive meeting.
"I can only presume you are here to discuss some form of a treaty or alliance, King Harold Verlag," King Adleherd said.
Harold nodded. "Given the current political and religious standpoints Forrod has taken, your Highness, I believe that it would be beneficial for the both of us to make an alliance."
"And why is that? Why should I decide to affiliate myself with a nation that I not just a few days ago thought would send me to hell should I consort with them?"
Harold had been expecting this. The king of Forrod, while being kind and gracious, was hesitant to expose his people to outsiders that could do them any harm. While Harold knew his kingdom was harmless, their forward ideas seemed radical and threatening to many of the surrounding countries. He knew Dorthore could provide a reliable and sustainable alliance should Forrod accept.
"While the military of Forrod is formidable with knights such as your two sons, Dorthore has their own equally formidable military. In times of need, Dorthore would pledge to come to the aide of Forrod in hopes that Forrod would do the same for Dorthore," Harold began. "From what I understand, your ally Debenrald supplies you with coal. Am I correct?"
King Adleherd nodded. "Yes, that is indeed correct."
"Should you form an alliance with Dorthore, we can give you more affordable access to coal while also increasing the trade routes and productivity between both of our allies."
The King seemed satisfied with this, but he and Harold exchanged a few more words on the technicalities of such an alliance. Harold that all was well. They both had things they could offer one another. Numbers could be discussed later. It had gone smoothly. The King had even offered to tour the grandeur of Forrod with Harold.
Harold stood to leave the parlor when the King stopped him.
"King Harold, please wait one moment. There is one more thing that I would like to discuss with you before we move onto more leisurely activities. Please, sit."
Harold nodded, his brows knitted together. He sat back down. "Yes? What else do we need to discuss?"
King Adleherd's next words were like an Earth-shattering bomb that Harold couldn't seem to comprehend.
"While treaties and alliances can be discussed and worked out among us formal leaders, my people will not accept something so forward just yet without something more concrete," he said. "You see, your word and our signatures are arbitrary things. They can very easily be betrayed."
Harold stilled. Something in the King's voice sounded as if this concrete evidence was something more than Harold would be willing to give. "And how do you presume we remedy this?"
"My eldest son, Cardin, will inherit my throne when God calls me home, but my youngest son, Erart... He is young, and I want the best for him," King Adleherd said. "You see, my son takes an avid interest in men. I'm not sure that you do, but you'll accept, I'd like this alliance to be bound in marriage, one of the most respected and esteemed Sildren ceremony."
A million thoughts raced through Harold's head, and the first was Eins. He knew their time was limited as it was. He knew that he would eventually have to settle down and get married, but he was hoping to have more time. He wanted to decide this on his own terms and not anyone else's. King Adleherd's suggestion was sudden. He wasn't expecting this of all things.
Sensing his hesitation, King Adleherd said, "That is if you are not courting someone else already."
Harold glanced back at Eins, who was a sentient being behind him. He was there to be Harold's advisor in all of this, to ensure he didn't sign away all of Dorthore. Him being here now only made the decision more painful. But he knew what Eins would do. It was the same thing he would always do when it came to the good of Dorthore and his own personal life. The look on Eins' face said it all. The gentle nod of his head told him to do it, that he was okay with it. But Harold was not...
Despite his opposition, a matrimonial alliance was what was best for Dorthore. As the king of the country, it was his responsibility to put the happiness of his people above his own, especially if it meant providing them with a stable future. A matrimonial alliance meant protection from both sides. He would not invade Forrod, and Forrod would not invade him. Trade would be expanded, improving the economy of his land for his people. Finally, it would prove to Arkendale and Efrore and Debenrald that this alliance was serious. In the end, the rational decision was easy. It seemed to make itself. The answer was as plain as day. But emotionally, it was one of the hardest Harold presumed he would ever make.
Harold put a smile onto his face, hoping that it would mask his pain. "No, I'm not courting anyone else. I believe that a matrimonial alliance could prove quite beneficial for both of us," Harold said. His own voice sounded so foreign to him. What was he saying? Why was he giving up Eins so quickly? What about his own happiness? "We'd be able to strengthen both of our economies with such concrete ties between us."
King Adleherd seemed very pleased with this. "Splendid. We can begin preparation at once," he said with a single clap of his hand. "Unfortunately, my son is currently out of the country with a friend of his conducting business. I understand you cannot stay in Forrod very long, so I will inform him of the arrangements myself."
"He hasn't agreed to it yet?" Harold asked, confused. "Are you sure he will be willing?"
KIng Adleherd waved a hand nonchalantly. "I'm not concerned. My son's love for his country runs deep, and he will see the advantages this arrangement can create."
Harold nodded. "Yes, of course," he said, but something still didn't feel right about the whole arrangement.
It might have been the fact that he was so easily giving up his own happiness, which philosophically was the stupidest thing he could do. Maybe it was the fact that his husband to be wasn't present for the initial discussion, and Harold was unsure of the fact that he'd be a willing participant in an arranged marriage. He was so unsure of everything that it made his head hurt.
After finally arriving outside of the throne room doors, Harold hoped that his worries would diminish. He hoped that meeting this prince would suddenly make all of his pain more bearable. He didn't believe in love at first sight or miracles, but right now, he could really use either one.
He took in a deep breath and steeled himself for what was to come.
"Now entering, King Harold Verlag of Dorthore," A voice from behind the door said.
The doors opened moments later and Harold walked in as confidently as he could. At the center of the room, standing just as confidently as Harold hoped he looked, was a man that he assumed to be the prince, Erart. He was dressed in pale colors - whites and light purples and gold. His skin was fair and blemishless. There was a rosy color to his cheeks that gave him a boyish look, but Harold could tell he was older because of the strength of his jaw. His eyes were bright and observant. Most interestingly of all was the shock of silver hair atop his head. While it was styled very well, it was still completely foreign to Harold. He could see why it was rumored that the royal family of Forrod was descended from angels, not that he believed any of that.
"King Harold, I am Prince Erart," he said with a confidence that matched his appearance. His words followed with a sweeping bow and a gallant smile. "I'm pleased to finally meet you."
Harold returned the smile. They shook hands and immediately after, Harold took Erart's hand and brought it to his lips, brushing his knuckles with a gentle kiss. It was a sign of gratitude, of affection, that Harold would give his all for this alliance. He hoped at the very least it seemed charming to Erart as opposed to creepy. A twinge of sadness followed after as it was not Eins' hand he was kissed, but Harold pushed the thoughts away just as quickly as they had arisen.
"The pleasure is all mine. It is because of you and your father that this alliance can even happen," Harold said.
A faltering, dark look crossed Erart's face for only a millisecond before it vanished. Harold wasn't sure what it was, but it did nothing to ease the worries that rested in his gut. The look was replaced by another luminescent smile from Erart. Harold didn't keep Erart's gaze very long, however. Eins had come into his line of sight at the worst possible time. Harold had to quickly shove him from his consciousness and focus his attention back on the prince.
"Why don't we move to the parlor to get more acquainted with one another," Harold said awkwardly. He wanted to be away from the prying eyes of the court. All of the officials around him, especially his sister, didn't need to watch him get to know his husband-to-be. He wanted this meeting to go as casually as possible.
"Of course," Erart replied.
The walk to the parlor was just as awkward and quiet as their initial meeting. Erart was taking in all of the sights the Dorthore castle had to offer while Harold answered the occasional question about a painting or a statue. Once they were settled inside of the parlor, Eins left them alone with the promise of tea and cake arriving soon. Erart seemed absolutely thrilled at the prospect of cake.
"Your home is lovely," Erart said, settling himself onto one of the sofas in the room.
"Thank you. I haven't done much redecorating myself since my father passed, so he is really the mastermind behind all of this," Harold said with a casual gesture of his hand.
"You and your kingdom as a whole are honestly very lucky. If your father was alive, I don't think this alliance would have happened."
Harold quirked a brow. "And why is that?"
Erart shrugged. "It's very obvious my father hated yours. Had you not shown diplomacy and humbleness in your meeting with Father, I'm sure he would have hated you, too."
Harold's jaw dropped open at Erart's words and he just stared at the prince before him.
"Harold," Erart said. "You'll catch flies if you keep your mouth open that long. Also, it's rude to stare at people."
Rude to stare? Harold thought. What you just said was rude. Staring should be the last thing I'm concerned with. What you just said? A backhanded compliment much?
But Harold didn't say anything. Instead, he smiled and said, "Well, that's a blunt way to put it."
Erart shrugged again. "I mean, I could have put it much worse. I could have said that Forrod was above consorting with the likes of sinners just two months ago, but because God was gracious to you sinner, we are able to wed and all of that. I could have said that we'd prefer not to interact with revolting sinners, but God has asked us this service so we shall. I could have told you that God wanted us to sway the heathenous ways of you unfaithful sinners, but I didn't, did I? Consider yourself lucky."
Harold had no idea how this guy hadn't gotten himself killed yet. He had an initial boyish innocence about him, but he had no damn filter. Harold was sure had he been around his Father, Erart would have been thrown out of the castle before he could have finished saying what he could have said. He was lucky Harold had thick skin. That and he really needed this alliance.
"This is going to be a very long engagement, I think," Harold mumbled, rubbing his fingers into his temples.
"What? Why do you say that, Harold?"
Harold glanced in Erart's direction. He looked genuinely confused. If there was a God, Harold would most certainly need him right now to get him through this.
"Just a gut feeling," Harold said with a heavy sigh.