Charles had been to many social events in his life. Being part of the upper echelons of Westchester made his presence at such soirees mandatory lest idle gossip be allowed to take hold of his haughty compatriots. Any little misstep could be used to level the harshest indictment. His mother would never allow her supercilious friends to have a reason to titter behind their fans about her children (for no reason other than how it would reflect on her). Thus, Charles had frequently found himself poked and prodded and stuffed into all manner of itchy fabrics and overly starched outfits with a plastic smile on his face. The parties Tony used to throw were much less formal and meant to facilitate the hedonistic lifestyle the students at York University led. They had been fun while they lasted, but Charles had never been overly fond of those either. They were good hunting grounds for him to indulge his vices: dress obscenely, drink excessively, fuck some lord or lady and shoot off at the mouth to show off his intelligence. That being said, he felt an undeniable undercurrent of excitement and apprehension as he entered the ballroom for Genosha's celebratory feast.
The room did not seem to have been heavily affected by the assault on the castle. In fact, it looked pristine. It was made up of high walls of pale stone, periodically covered with tapestries depicting various scenes of nature, battles, ships sailing, a group of people around a fireplace holding hands, all most likely emblematic of important points in Genoshan history. Charles wondered about the stories behind them. Several tables were to the right of the large room, leaving the left side, the dancefloor most likely, empty save the musicians playing an unobtrusive tune to delight the mingling crowd. The tables were decorated with the same dark purples and reds he had seen throughout the castle, confirming his suspicions that they were Erik's house colors. It made a good contrast for the otherwise well-lit room.
Charles noticed that the Genoshan nobles seemed to prefer darker colors. Many in the room were garbed in dark shades or cool colors: ruby, forest green, violet, maroon, black, tawny, and other such shades. Even Moira beside him wore a grey dress with dark olive floral accents. Charles, by contrast, couldn't help but feel like he stuck out. Erik put him in a navy evening jacket, a silk gold paisley waistcoat, and a pure white dress shirt and cravat, which Moira helped him tie in the latest fashion. The outfit looked good on him, he could admit. Moira had gushed that it made his eyes appear even bluer. She had washed, cut and combed his hair into what she called fashionably messy and patted his face with a bit of rouge and powder to give him a healthier color before deeming him fit to dine with the prince. Charles was still uncertain. The outfits worn by the Genoshan aristocracy did not seem as ornate as what he became accustomed to in Westchester, but no one could doubt their wealth. He was born and bred in the same crust as many of these people, but he could not help but feel like a pretender.
There was a spike of anxiety from outside of himself and he glanced over at Moira. She appeared to be struggling with the same sentiments as him. They had had a long, friendly chat as Charles settled in. He learned that her mother had been a lady-in-waiting for Queen Edith. Upon the queen's death, Moira remained in the capital as a companion and attendant for Princess Ruth. She was a highborn lady, but her maiden family was new to the aristocracy, only three generations removed from their mercantile days, which made her position among the peers of the realm more tenuous. She was also involved in a couple of scandals thanks to her late husband, a Lord Joseph MacTaggart, who set her aside for a mistress after accusations of infertility. Her husband would not grant her a divorce and she did not want to dishonor her family by proceeding with one without her alpha's consent. Unfortunately, this landed her in an unenviable position when her husband was subsequently arrested for selling Gifted poachers caught on his lands into slavery. Moira held no guilt in the matter, but it stained her reputation despite their marital and geographical separation. Erik made sure to secure her position at court because of her close relationship with Princess Ruth and because he was sure of her innocence regarding her husband's crimes.
Charles felt deeply for her and figured that her history was no small factor in Erik's decision to pair them together. He had felt comfortable enough to share some of his own experiences with her and Moira had been most understanding and empathetic. He found her to be a calming and endearing soul, her mind denoting her quiet brilliance and intelligence. He even found her scent to be a pleasantly appealing one: rose, raspberry and chocolate. He already saw her becoming a dear friend to him if he were to remain in this castle. He reached out and squeezed her hand comfortingly, allowing a tendril of his telepathy to soothe away her misgivings. She shot him a smile in return.
"I am always this way at these kinds of events, don't mind me."
"I'm nervous too. If we stick by each other's side for as long as we can, we just may get through this in one piece," Charles offered.
Moira smiled wider at him and squeezed his hand back.
They stepped fully into the room, glancing around at the occupants. A waiter came with a tray of champagne and they both took a glass with a nod of thank you.
"Tell me, who else will be sitting at the high table tonight?"
"Other than yourself and the prince, Genosha's Council of Twelve will sit with him: Lord Winston Frost, Lord Norton McCoy, Lord Mikhail Rasputin, Lord Nathaniel Essex, Lord Janos Quested, Lady Amelia Voght, Lady Elaine Grey, Lady N'Dare Monroe and Lady Paloma Proudstar."
"I thought you said there were twelve?"
"Lord Trask is not attending tonight. It seems he resigned the council and left for his estate with great haste. Lord Stryker and Lord Wyngarde turned cloak against the crown and went the way of traitors. Between you and I, at least one other council member is likely to unceremoniously resign if they are not removed upon Prince Erik's ascension to the throne. If there is any you must be most wary of, it is Lord Winston Frost."
"Frost as in Emma Frost?"
"You've met Lord Frost's daughter?"
"In passing. It wasn't exactly a warm encounter. She all but accused me of telepathically manipulating Erik into consorting with me. The apple did not fall far from the tree then?"
"It barely rolled when it hit the ground. He is the head of the council and a traditionalist to the core. He may take issue with you just because the prince has a guest he didn't know of beforehand."
Charles observed the man in question. He was in his 50s or 60s with more gray than blonde flecking his hair. He had a stoic, emotionless air about him, but his nose was slightly raised in an imperious fashion and he looked down it at the others around him, including the several blondes who appeared to be his family. He knew this type of aristocrat. He had dealt with his kind all his life.
"Anything else I should know?"
"Lord McCoy does lean on the more conservative side, but he is a friendly man of genial nature with an inclination towards the sciences, especially the medical sciences. His son is a training physician. You may find commonality with him in those regards. Keep conversation with Lord Essex to a minimum. He is an odd one, to say the least. Lord Rasputin will likely only wish to speak about his various business ventures with you. You're likely not to get a word in edgewise. Lord Quested is not talkative at all and is unlikely to speak with you beyond pleasantries. Lady Voght, Lady Elaine, and Lady N'Dare are pleasant and will take an interest in you. They may fish for more information than you are willing to give, though. Lady Proudstar is harder to pin down. She is a mercurial woman. She will either adore you or hate you. There seems to be no method to her madness, I'm afraid. She has been on the council since Prince Erik's grandmother sat the throne. She is respected by everyone at court. Her opinion is regarded highly. Do your best to get her on your side. Other than that, the remaining generals from the various cities who aided Krakoa against Lord Shaw will also sit at the high table along with Lord Helmut Zemo of Sokovia. Prince Erik will likely escort him into the hall and share the first dance with him since he is the only visiting lord from outside of the capital."
Charles nodded, absorbing all the information. He wanted to make a good first impression for both himself and Erik despite what may happen after this. A part of it was not wanting to embarrass Erik, but a larger part sought to find out if he could still win people over, to know that he was not irrevocably marked with a scarlet letter naming him a criminal, a failure, a whore. Moira squeezed his hand again.
"You must put a smile on your face now."
"Why?"
"Because Lady Proudstar is coming towards us."
Charles followed Moira's gaze and saw an old woman making her way to them. She did not shamble despite her advanced age, instead gliding gracefully across the room. Moira squeezed his hand once more and his lips reflexively stretched into a polite smile as the woman stopped in front of them.
"My lady," he greeted, bowing before her.
The woman studied him quietly for a long moment, so long that Charles began to grow nervous. After a fashion, her intelligent eyes lit up with something like joy and she smiled at him.
"It is you," she declared.
Charles gave her a confused look, which only deepened when her withered brown hands reached out and cupped his cheeks.
"Pardon?"
"You are the one who has captured the prince's heart. You are his true mate. Charles."
He was not sure what to say. A part of him was shocked Erik had seen fit to mention him to people at court, Moira and now Lady Proudstar. Then again, after everything he had already done, he supposed he shouldn't have been. But to claim Charles was his true mate? That seemed decidedly un-Eriklike.
"You cannot know how thrilled I am to see another such blessing before my eyes. And with one so lovely as yourself. The prince is most favored."
Charles blushed and glanced down bashfully at the woman's words. A laugh passed her lips, like windchimes, before she pressed a kiss to both of his cheeks, enveloping him in her scent: rain, treacle and wisteria.
"I will, of course, do all in my power to ensure the bond comes to fruition. After all, it is my duty to protect and champion such bonds among my people, the Apache tribes of the Genoshan coastal plains. You don't have to worry about a thing, child," she reassured him.
Charles just stared dumbly in reply, unable to articulate anything.
"Will you do me the honor of escorting me to the high table?"
He shook himself from his stupor and wordlessly held out his elbow. He said a reluctant goodbye to Moira, who gave him one last fortifying smile, and escorted Lady Proudstar towards the high table, passing seats which were quickly filling up. The lady pulled him to sit next to her where she sat beside Lord Frost, placing him between her and the gentleman whom Moira had named as Lord McCoy.
"Ah, you must be the prince's elusive and mysterious guest," Lord McCoy greeted amiably once he sat.
"I am. Charles Xavier. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
He offered his hand to Lord McCoy, who kissed the back of it as was customary for an alpha to an omega in such a setting.
"Xavier? I can't say I am familiar with the name."
"My family doesn't hail from Genosha, I'm afraid."
"Is that a Westchesterian accent I detect?" Lord Frost asked.
"You have a good ear, my lord."
"I am familiar with a Lord Brian Xavier. I once did business with him before his unfortunate and untimely death. He had a son. I wonder if you are indeed that same son."
Charles' heart stuttered in his chest and a warning horn sounded in his head. He wondered just how closely this man paid attention to his family. Surely, he would have no cause to after his father's death, unless he did business with Kurt that was.
"I am," he replied, his tongue feeling heavier.
"What a small world," Lord McCoy commented with oblivious delight.
"Quite," Lord Frost replied.
He held Charles' gaze for a long moment. His face was carefully blank, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes.
He knows, he thought with certainty.
For a panicked moment, he wanted to delve into the man's mind and ruthlessly rip away any knowledge he may have of Charles' past. His daughter was a telepath, and not a fledgling one either. It would probably do more harm than good for his reputation in the long run for him to tamper with the mind of one of Genosha's most prominent lords. Lady Proudstar shifted, breaking the stare between the two men.
"I have been to Westchester on a few occasions," the lady started, before launching into an anecdote about her visits to his home country, diffusing the tense exchange.
Charles shared several stories of his own and as the table began to fill up, others introduced themselves and shared their experiences with Westchester. This carried on until the music abruptly stopped and an attendant announced the arrival of the prince and Lord Helmut Zemo of Sokovia.
The doors opened and Erik entered with an attractive young man on his right arm. Charles only had eyes for Erik. He was dressed formally, but not in an overly ceremonial fashion. Still, Charles had never seen him outfitted so ornately. His muscular yet slender build was wrapped in a handsome outfit of a burgundy evening jacket with gold detailing. It was left open due to his sling to reveal the gold brocade waistcoat he wore beneath it and his white linen shirt and elaborately tied cravat. He was further adorned with rings, several livery collars denoting his status and a gold circlet atop his head, nestled comfortably among his auburn curls. There was a sharp feeling of desire that descended over him as they locked eyes with one another. Erik's face remained an emotionless mask, but Charles saw the assessment he made of his person, the flash that crossed his gaze before they lost eye contact. Erik moved to help Lord Helmut up the dais. Charles did not look behind him as the two passed, but Erik's uninjured shoulder brushed his back as they went, and he could not help the tugging it inspired in his chest.
Erik made a speech of gratitude to his allies, expressing eagerness to move Genosha towards peace and prosperity, but Charles hardly heard a word of it. He was confident of its eloquence and sincerity, but Charles was more concerned with his own internal struggle. There was a feeling battering against the walls of his chest and his rib cage, begging to take over him, pressing for him to cross the distance and be close to Erik, to touch him. He tamped it down, unsure of the sudden, heady feeling. His mind recoiled from it, almost violently. He was not yet able to be quite so vulnerable with Erik again, even if he convinced himself to be somewhat cooperative with Erik's attempts at reconciliation.
He dropped back into his seat quickly as the room shuffled around him to sit and the servants came forward with platters of food. He did his best to ignore the feeling as he took in the selections before him. Smoked fish, spice-rubbed quail, and a roasted lamb over a bed of vegetables were on display. Charles accepted his portion graciously as well as the goblet of wine offered to him. For a while, the hall was only filled with the sounds of the orchestra playing low music, some mumbling, and the scraping of utensils against plates. As the meal went on and people drank more and more, the general noise in the hall began to rise. He felt like the room was getting warmer and warmer as the minutes ticked by but ignored it in favor of finishing his meal and requesting a refill of his wine.
He kept mostly to himself but twigged into the conversation beside him as Lord Frost began to speak.
"Lord Helmut, I trust you are settling in well," the older man said to the omega on Erik's other side.
"I am, thank you. The room Prince Erik chose for me has a very enticing view of the bay."
"Good, good. I do hope you intend to stay for a while."
There was something strange in the lord's voice, some hidden message that made Charles' ears perk up.
"As long as the prince will have me, I shall remain."
Again, there was an undercurrent that Charles did not like. The lord's voice sounded sugary, almost saccharine. Charles could expect as much. Erik was a prince. There would be many vying for his attentions, whether he was married or not. However, there was a deeper assuredness in the young lord's tone that caught Charles' attention.
"You never know how the tides will turn. I, for one, hope to see much more of you here."
"I was thinking of asking the cities of Genosha to send along ambassadors to the capital to better address any issues that may occur. I think Lord Helmut has proven himself a worthy emissary for the interests of Sokovia and would invite him to remain in a diplomatic role," Erik commented.
There was a hardness to his tone that did not match the formality of the words. Charles recognized that he wanted their conversation to stop for some reason. There was a quiet moment. Charles did not see what looks were passed between the men, but he gleaned impressions of annoyance, disappointment and defiance from Erik, Lord Zemo and Lord Frost, respectively.
"You will be staying for a considerable time yourself, won't you, Lord Xavier?" Lady Proudstar asked, pulling Charles into the exchange.
Before he could answer, Lord Frost spoke up.
"Won't you be returning to Salem soon to join your family?"
Charles looked past Lady Proudstar towards Lord Frost, wondering what he was playing at. Moira had said he was a traditionalist, so he was sure the lord looked down on him. If he had enough of an ear to the ground to know who Charles was, he must've already figured out about the divorce, considering the lack of Cain's scent upon his person.
"I don't have any family to speak of in Salem. My parents are deceased, and my sister no longer resides there," Charles replied, not mentioning the family he was certain Lord Frost meant.
The older man's flinty eyes remained blank but there was an air of disdain about him, though he made no move to expose the secret he quietly held over Charles' head.
"Charles can stay as long as he wishes. He is my guest until it is his wish to be elsewise," Erik rejoined.
Charles finally looked over at the alpha in question. He was looking at Charles. There was a softness in his eye that anyone could've read. Considering the look Lord Helmut and Lord Frost sent him, it was noticed.
"Sorry, Lord Xavier of Salem, is it?" Lord Helmut asked.
"Yes," Charles replied, looking over at the omega for the first time.
He was a handsome man, Charles noted with some insecurity. He couldn't help but linger over the lord's smaller nose enviously. He had an unobtrusive disposition, likely the silent type but opinionated. The other omega had an air of curiosity and caution about him as he sized Charles up.
"Do you and the prince know each other well? I didn't hear of you on the battlefield, so I assume you are a friend from elsewhere. The prince's travels, perhaps."
"I am a relatively new arrival in this country. He has been a friend to me. The first I've made here in Genosha."
"What a fortuitous friendship to have made then," Lord Helmut replied, not at all in the same way Emma Frost had said so almost a fortnight prior.
"Fate was on my side."
"So it seems. In some places, it is still deemed quite inappropriate for an omega and alpha to befriend one another. I am always happy to meet another omega who breaks convention."
His and Erik's relationship was hardly platonic, but he too was always happy to meet another omega of the same disposition as himself.
"You said you took to the battlefield?"
"I did."
"Quite successfully. Lord Helmut has a good head for military leadership," Erik complimented, his voice formal, but it put a smile on Lord Helmut's face. Charles had to privately admit to himself that the lord had a pleasant smile.
"If only I could've had access to a martial education, but alas, it wasn't so for me, though I can say I never viewed it to be a great loss," Charles commented, no bitterness in his tone.
Truth be told, he always veered towards the sciences anyway, so Kurt ending his shooting lessons was the least of his grievances with the man.
"It's never too late to learn. I have always thought that an omega ought to know how to defend themselves rather than depend upon an alpha or beta to do so for them. Our liberty, chastity, freedom and very lives ought to be measured by the capability of our own hands and strength, not that of others," Lord Helmut replied genially.
Charles paused before giving the man a bright smile.
"I quite agree. You may have swayed me yet, my lord."
Lord Frost harrumphed in disapproval from between them.
"You do not see things the same I take it, Lord Frost?" Lord Helmut asked needlessly.
"I understand the youthful yearning for things forbidden, but there are roles within society for a reason. How is order to continue if it is continuously upended? How must society remain virtuous if every day we stray further from the teachings of our lord?"
"The changes that have happened only make sense, don't they?" Lord Helmut pushed.
"What sense could there be in chaos?"
"Surely affording omegas a few freedoms previously denied them is not so much of an anathema as all that, my lord. Hardly a gaping pit waiting to swallow us all," Charles countered in a cavalier manner, a mirthful tilt to his lips.
"Do you have much experience watching the effects of political and social acts? I have had 40 years' worth of watching some societies crumble and fall from making so-called 'progress'. One need only look across the sea to America. Half of their country is barely recovering from their civil war."
"Surely, you see the merit in abolishing something as profane as the chattel slavery those poor souls were condemned to."
"Certainly, but had matters been handled differently perhaps the bloodshed could've been avoided altogether. The country would not have been torn apart in the first place and their president murdered thanks to the upheaval."
"Impasses always seem easier to disentangle with the benefit of hindsight but sometimes change, whether it is by force or decree, is better than no change at all."
"If you are so much more knowledgeable, Lord Xavier, please do enlighten us."
Charles sat up straighter in his seat, never one to back down from a direct challenge.
"I can't speak for your personal experience and am hardly qualified to speak on the teachings of many religions as, I admit, I scraped by in my theological classes by the skin of my teeth. However, I can look at things from the perspective of scientific objectivism, especially that found in Mendel's work on mutations within a species. Take, for example, Genosha's wolf populations. Let us compare the Blue Ridge mountain wolves to the Tungsten Forest wolves. Neither wolf evolved for many years as their behaviors seemed perfect for their environment. They remained kings of their domain, virtually at the top of their food chains in their respective habitats, even living harmoniously with the native tribes of the land. Initially, only the male wolves hunted among both groups with the females taking on a decidedly latent role, mainly to care for the young, breed, help build dens and the like. Then the explorers from the continent landed on the island and eventually took over. Fur trapping increased and the introduction of other species not usually found on the island also threatened both groups. The Blue Ridge wolves learned to adapt to this new reality. Roles among the pack became more lenient. Female wolves began to hunt and actively defend the pack. Male wolves became more involved with teaching the young. The wolf pack became more and more balanced despite this change, and the pack continues to flourish today. The Tungsten wolves remained rigidly in their ways. They refused to, or could not, adapt. They were hunted or challenged by predators until they reached near extinction. All that to say, predetermined roles certainly have their place in societal structure but so too does compromise and evolution. It hardly does a country justice if what could count as a third of their population cannot take up arms to defend their homes, or own land if they would be the best suited to do so, or have custodial rights to their children if they are the safer guardian, or have the legal and judicial means to seek recourse from the courts in case they find themselves in mortal danger, even if it is from their mate. That is all," Charles finished, picking up his wine goblet to take a sip.
It was only when he put it down that he realized he had managed to garner the entire table's attention with this impromptu speech. There were many looks of consideration and a new assessment of Charles. Lord McCoy appeared to be giving his words great thought. Lady Proudstar had a secretive smile upon her face. Lord Frost was glaring at him. Lord Helmut had a face of appreciative surprise. Erik…
Charles' heart began to thud wildly in his chest. Erik was looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. He bit his lip and Erik's eyes followed the action. He felt another flash of heat strike him. This felt so much like that night on Logan's porch. A shiver went down his spine as he remembered how they had spent that night, pleasuring each other over and over until they couldn't anymore. They couldn't do this here, not now, but Charles couldn't look away.
"Pretty and smart. You must tell me where you find your friends, my prince. I should surely wish to find my friends there as well," Lady Proudstar said, breaking through the tension once more.
She was giving both him and Erik meaningful looks. Lord Helmut was as well, but his gaze was tinged with a hint of jealousy, though he quickly hid it.
The conversation steadily managed to shift away from that debate to lighter subjects surrounding Erik's coronation and heavier topics such as the mourning period for Erik's father that the others called shiva. Before Charles knew it, the table was cleared of plates and the first dance was announced. Erik stood up and held out his hand towards Lord Helmut. Charles was not surprised. It was only proper. He was taken aback, however, when Lord Frost offered his hand to him.
"If you would so grace me, Lord Xavier?"
Charles did not want to cause a scene, so he accepted the offer, allowing himself to be led out towards the dancefloor where others lined up for the hornpipe.
There was no room to talk, or so Charles would have thought as he joined the line across from Lord Frost but there was a sudden projection in his mind that startled him.
"When did you come to Genosha? I imagine it couldn't have been long, considering I only received word of Lord Marko's inquiries of your whereabouts a little over a month ago."
He glanced up at Lord Frost with narrowed eyes as a couple passed between them. The lord was good at projection, not too loud or too soft. His voice sounded utterly emotionless, which surprised Charles. He would've expected the lord to be more hostile in the privacy of their heads, considering their little debate. He saw no point in denying what they both already knew to be true.
"I came just around the same time, once I was well enough to leave Westchester following the divorce."
"The way Kurt described you in his pleas for your return if located: naïve, hapless, confused, easily influenced, I would've expected a guileless child."
Charles felt his jaw tick at the idea of Kurt sending out missives to have people searching for him as if he were an errant boy who ran away from home on a whim. The two moved to join hands when it became their turn.
"I stopped being a child when I was ten years old, the moment my father was remitted to an early grave."
"I was sorry to hear of his death. My condolences again. I did consider Brian a good and honest man who loved his children dearly. He wore his heart on his sleeve more than I approved of, but truth be told, I would've killed for that man. That is why I am approaching this matter as delicately as I care to."
Charles and Lord Frost joined hands with the couple beside them as the dance continued.
"What matter would that be, my lord?"
"I have known the prince since he was a child, you know? I watched him grow into a man. I have come to understand his nature and temperament. I confess I was intrigued by the manner in which he arrived to the capital. He was perfunctory, professional, levelheaded about the matter with Lord Shaw in a way he has not been since this quagmire began. I expected this to be a matter long drawn out, that he would take more time than I would approve of indulging in his bid for vengeance. However, that was not the case. The disposition he had upon arrival was much the same he had when his lady wife still lived. She was good for him, loath as I was to accept that match. Similarly, I acknowledge that you appear to be a positive influence on our mutual friend. His anger and rage seem a bit less likely to overtake his better sense."
Charles did not respond, waiting for Lord Frost to get to the point.
"Lord Helmut, I know much less about. However, I have heard good things about him. He fought by the prince's side for Krakoa, already giving him an inroad with the people. He is a bit too liberal for my tastes, but these things can be tempered. He has the correct breeding, reputation and family name to make a suitable prince consort."
Ah, there it was.
"Speak plainly, my lord."
"He is here at the invitation of Prince Erik, who promised to seriously consider him for matrimony. He cannot seriously consider him if he is distracted by whatever tension exists between the two of you. I don't know what the prince may have led you to believe, but nothing can come of any affair you may have or intend to conduct together," Lord Frost responded bluntly as they lined up across from each other again.
"Not only would such a match be worthless, but it will mire the crown in bad gossip considering your status. I will even be charitable and say none of it is your fault. I have heard rumors of what your marriage to the younger Marko was like. Bad form and bad childrearing can lead to such unsavory things. Nevertheless, some things cannot be helped. You claim you are a man of science. I believe such men to be ones who favor logic over faith. Is it logical to believe that a foreign boy with no name could peacefully become the mate of a prospective king?"
"I have a name," Charles replied defensively.
"Not anymore. Now you have one name and a son who is not lawfully yours to keep. You are all but a fugitive."
Charles took a deep breath, reminding himself that this was nothing he had not already thought of. Somehow, hearing it from someone else made it hit harder.
"What do you want from me?"
"A simple exchange. You and I both know its folly to live in this fantasy world where the disgraced lord somehow becomes a royal. It is because of the love I held for your father that I am willing to help you. I have enough funds to see you to an estate that I own across the sea in Boston. It was untouched by the Americans' civil unrest. It needs someone of proper breeding and education to oversee it and I know you have had the same education as my own children. I will even be so generous as to pay the Markos to cease their pursuit of you and your son. I will, of course, set you up with an allowance in exchange for your handling of the property so there is no risk of you becoming impoverished. You can start a new life, a good life, far from here. You could even marry if you so wished. I have a son, Christian. He is a beta, non-Gifted, recently widowed with a young daughter. He is less conservative than I and is likely to indulge your ideas about omega freedoms and autonomy to some degree. It would be a suitable match for one such as yourself."
Charles stared up at the lord equal parts perplexed and incredulous as they once again clasped hands during their turn.
"Why would you do that?"
"We may have our differences, but I firmly believe Erik Lehnsherr is the man to rule this country and rule it well. He has the mind, the will, and the right last name. That does not mean he can do it alone. Perception is as important as reality. The perception when he stands beside you versus how it looks when he stands beside Lord Helmut is leaps and bounds from one another. The money is of no object to me if it ensures Genosha's future."
"I don't care about your bloody money. You think I can be so easily bought?"
Lord Frost studied him as they rejoined their respective lines.
"No, this isn't about money or status for you, is it? You love him."
Charles made no move to deny it nor confirm it. Lord Frost took his silence as affirmation.
"That is a shame. This truth must hurt you very much. If you love him, you see that my words are not meant out of spite or to uphold my own version of morality but borne of an objective understanding of reality. I'm not asking you to leave him for money or land in Massachusetts. I'm asking you to leave because your presence endangers him. Love makes people do foolish things that can ultimately result in the lives of others or themselves. I've witnessed it too many times to be swayed that the emotion can bring any differing outcome. I saw what love did to the prince before, how his love for his sister tore him apart and threatened the kingdom."
"It wasn't love that did that, it was the loss of love."
"Is it not better then to never risk indulging in something so tenuous in the first place? That kind of love couldn't be helped, this kind of love can. I am trying to make this as kind as I possibly can. This will never be your home. Find a true home somewhere far from here for you and your son while there is still time."
Charles let out a heavy breath, trying to hold himself together. Every word from Lord Frost felt like a hammer driving in a nail. He would've preferred it if the man was hurling insults and scorn at him, not this strange form of sympathy. He stepped out to make another turn and almost gasped as this brought him chest to chest with Erik. They stopped shoulder to shoulder and Erik let a small smile alight his face as they stepped back in line across from one another. Charles was not sure what his face was doing as Lord Frost and Lord Helmut crossed in front of them, but Erik's expression waned.
"Are you alright?"
Charles plastered a smile on his face.
"I'm just still a little tired from the carriage ride to the capital, don't worry about me."
Erik held his gaze as he joined hands with Lord Frost and Lord Helmut and walked in a circle.
"Are you absolutely certain?"
Charles didn't answer, not sure how to. He and Erik stepped out of line and began to walk down the length of the two rows shoulder to shoulder, Erik's left arm not able to press against his back as the other couples did.
"Charles?" He asked aloud, his face growing more and more worried.
"Are you considering Lord Helmut for marriage?" He whispered in reply.
Erik stared at him for a long moment. Charles looked forward as Lord Frost slotted himself on his other side until they reached their places once more and Erik went back to Lord Helmut. A few more turns found them together once more twirling around each other. Erik's green eyes bore into Charles', and he felt the tugging in his chest start anew.
"You know exactly what I want, Charles," he heard Erik respond, a whisper caressing the tendrils of his telepathic reach.
Charles clenched his teeth, thinking over Lord Frost's words and his offer. It seemed the more logical and realistic option than anything else did. What else did he have? The idea that his and Erik's relationship would be accepted thanks to the backing of one woman due to her belief in a phenomenon that was widely viewed to be fabled if not outright imaginary? What did that mean in the face of decades of tradition?
"Perhaps you ought to consider the lord more seriously. He seems a good sort."
"You can't mean that, Charles. Tell me you don't mean that."
Charles didn't answer. He felt a pang in his chest as Erik scrunched his eyes in confusion with a shadow of hurt crossing his gaze as they returned to their position in line and bowed to their partners. He reflected that he and Erik were making a habit of hurting each other lately. Even more reason to remove himself.
He looked back at Lord Frost as the music stopped. The man's face remained emotionless but expectant. He wanted Charles to agree to him now. He switched his eyes to Erik, staring at him imploringly, begging for an explanation and reciprocity of his feelings. He glanced at Lord Helmut out of the corner of his eyes. The man had on a mask of politeness, but there was displeased resignation in his gaze. It struck Charles that he was a hapless, innocent party in all of this. He likely was sent by his own father to secure this match with Erik, whether he liked it or not. He couldn't have known about Charles. He couldn't know the mess he would've been plunged into for the sake of politics. Yet that was his world more than it was Charles' now. He was the one suited for Erik, not Charles.
Charles switched his gaze between the three men, each wanting something from him that he didn't know that he could give. Before the next song struck up, he let out a wet sigh and turned around, pushing through the crowd to escape the room and the many conflicting emotions and feelings it inspired.
AN: Mendel's work is actually more early 20th century than late 19th century, but let's just pretend that the existence of mutants in this world kickstarted the whole mutation theory of evolution a lot sooner.