Chapter 7: His Veil

A sigh escapes Lukas' lungs as he sits on their bed and waits for Mathias to join him. Despite what is coming, he still leaves some of his sleepwear on, knowing how much his husband enjoys stripping it off of his body. The room smells of flowers and spice from their bath; after a long day of feasting and competing in games, the two smelled of dirt and cooking grease. Lukas always makes sure the king's chambers never smells of anything other than their scents, carefully instructing the most trusted maids to prepare incense and change the sheets each night. He considers their bed a sacred place where only he and Mathias can be together without anyone disturbing them, and it is here that he waits for the remaining minutes of the Red Summer to come to an end.

"It would be easier for me to get you a real birthday gift," he mutters as he sees his husband undressing. The candle lights are already dimmed to as far as they can go without them going blind while making love. A bottle of strongly aromatic ointment rests at the nightstand on Mathias' side; its highly potent properties of speargrass and limeroot mask any traces of sweat and seed when they get started.

"I have too many swords to display and more books than I have time to read," the king chuckles, stretching his rigid muscles after a day's worth of wrestling and sneaking a sword fight or two. "Besides, this way, you get something in return, too."

Lukas sneers and beckons him to lie down so he might massage him, scolding him for his brashness. "You're a king, not a rowdy knight, Mathias. If you're going to rule the people, you have to be fit to rule yourself. You don't even take care of your body. How do you expect me to believe you can run the kingdom without my help?"

Mathias looks to him with a smile glowing in the soft flames. "Maybe that's why I always need you by my side, Lukas."

Petty words, Lukas wants to think, but he secretly feels flattered that his king needs him in more ways than one. He stops massaging his husband's arms and kisses his neck and nibbles his ear. By now he knows where to touch to make his husband do certain things, and Mathias is all the more knowledgeable. Lukas can feel the cool summer breeze rush on his skin when his husband strips his garments off and runs his hands down his torso to his waist. Triggered by adapted physiological desires, he can feel himself growing harder at the thought of Mathias' hands moving lower down his groin. He sinks into the mattress, weakened by the spinning sensations of sharp smells and flickering lights. Suddenly he forgets about the cool breeze and experiences a rush of fire flooding inside him from the inside out. Mathias is starting.

Lukas bled on their wedding night. The sensation at the time was completely unfamiliar to him. He could not consult anyone on how to pleasure his husband. He could not rely solely on instinct alone. The exchange was awkward and clumsy at best. Mathias had no concept of what to do, yet he made a shaky attempt at taking charge with his young husband spread out for him in the darkness. They saw each other naked several times before when dressing and bathing together as children, but it was the first time since they exposed themselves in such a manner that they could whole-heartedly accept each other's nakedness. It was never a concern in the past: Lukas knew it was only human for them to appear that way without clothes; Mathias never minded since they were friends.

As lovers—husbands now—it was different. They did not need to make such an exchange. Neither could bear children. For them to consummate would only be out of their own lust for each other. Lukas was afraid of it. It made him feel unclean, tainted. It should have been regarded as a privilege to be handled this way by a king, one that was in no way disregarded by the gods or his people, yet knowing he was married was still foreign and new to him. Mathias loved him. He put Lukas' life before his own selflessly many times before without a second's thought. That such a relationship and regard could lead up to this night was something Lukas could not wrap his thoughts around. It felt too surreal, perhaps perfect. Perfection was not something he thought could exist between him and Mathias—not as friends, at the very least.

Lying on a nightstand by their large bed on that night was the golden cross. Lukas accepted it, placing it on his lips during their wedding ceremony and watching Mathias press his lips to it in return. He did not accept the cross for security or for power, he realized. He thought of Mathias as something more; it was just that before, his uncertainty held him back. He loved Mathias.

With his breath held, he encouraged his new husband with his body. He thought of how one might entice his lover and performed such speculations on Mathias. By the time he managed to regain his senses again, the sun was at high noon, the covers reeked of sweat and semen, and his hips were never sorer.

He can hear them from down the hall. Here on the third floor where the servants and maids are excused for bed, the prince is wide-awake to the sounds coming from his brother's chambers. He can only be grateful his mother is sleeping on the second floor. This is not the first time he has heard them making love. As the months progressed in their marriage, the sounds became more pronounced and vocal. Lukas learned how to make himself comfortable, and Mathias learned how to pleasure them both. The noises they make almost sound animalistic, as if not from the people he has grown up with his entire life. They are sounds made only for each other. Hearing them makes the prince feel as though he is intruding in their love life.

Wrapping himself into a ball, the prince tosses and turns in his bed, hoping either the cool summer breeze or the snowflake patterns of his lamp will lull him to sleep. However, after several minutes, he concludes that he cannot find rest. Even after Lukas and Mathias' voices die down, he still feels restless in bed. He hopes he can find something in his room to distract himself from the lasting sounds echoing in his memory, but his mind constantly goes back to the conjured images of what Mathias might be doing to his brother.

At sixteen, the prince knows what it means to be married and consummate. Having been visited by some of the more passionate kings in his lifetime, he has knowledge of what goes on behind closed doors and flailed bed sheets. Perhaps it is the sheer curiosity that grabs him or the fact that he has never seen it for himself, but the prince sometimes finds himself wishing he could experience what his brother is feeling just once in his life.

He vividly remembers the day after his brother's wedding. Lukas refused to come out of his chambers after complaining about aches in unexpected places. He did not want anyone to see him, and the only one who could freely move in and out of the chambers was Mathias, himself. The prince was twelve at the time, barely able to grasp what sexual intercourse was, let alone what it felt like. Mathias could only tell him that Lukas was tired and needed plenty of sleep. He also needed to hide his new brother-in-law from the fact that on their first attempt at making love, the bed sheets became bloodied from inexperience. It never happened again, after that, and from then on, Lukas left the chambers with his husband leading him out.

It must have been painful, he thinks, being unable to even walk after going through that. Sex is supposed to be an act of love. He wonders if it is because Lukas and Mathias are both men, but he was always told that it was an act between two lovers for only the strongest of intentions. Pleasurable or not, it was supposed to only be saved for those who loved one another. Lukas was able to hold back the pain and allow Mathias to be inside of him. The prince should be able to do that, too, when he finds the right person, yet he feels unpredictably and frustratingly impatient. It does not feel fair that his brother should be able to have someone love him like that, not while he feels discarded and neglected as his brother assimilates his roles.

A sound suddenly interrupts his chain of thoughts. Leon stirs from his bed and causes the frame to creak under his weight. The prince quietly moves back to his pet's side and watches him turn over. No further movements follow, and the prince thinks he must have just adjusted his position in his sleep; nevertheless, he whispers out to him from his post.

"Leon…? Leon, are you awake?"

Nothing happens for a period of time. The prince gives in and proceeds to rest his head when he hears a rustling noise from his pet's covers.

"Master?" comes a whisper. "Did you call for me?"

His heart making a small leap, the prince crawls to the edge of his bed with a faint smile. "Yes, I did. I was wondering if you were awake."

"I am," his pet quietly answers. From the soft glow of his lamp, the prince can see Leon's golden eyes shining at him. What he once found to be hypnotic and exotic now feels special to him. Very rarely does Leon look anyone directly in the eye, and the prince considers it more of a privilege than poor practice of good manners. His breathing easing up, the prince holds his hand out to stroke his pet. Leon silently moves his head over to his hand and lets his master touch his hair.

"Are you not able to sleep?" Leon asks unexpectedly. He is different than any puffin or dog the prince has seen. Where an animal might only try to get certain reactions out of its master, Leon can sense when something ails the prince. He listens and reflects, tries to reason and make things better so as long as he does not infringe. It makes the prince trust his pet even more than he would any beast, and he pours his troubled thoughts onto him.

"You heard them, didn't you?" he asks with unfocused eyes. His mind still echoes with the pleasurable sounds of his brother crying out for his husband. When his pet nods, he makes certain he knows why they were made, boldly asking him.

"Pleasure" is what his pet says and nothing more. The prince bites his lips and sits up. He moves from his bed and lies with Leon, stroking his cheek and staring into his eyes.

"Leon, have you ever loved someone before we met?" he asks and pauses. "I've taught you the word. We've read about it countless times in our studies and stories."

His pet's eyes are lazily open when his fingers glide across his jawline. By now the prince knows where he enjoys being touched. Seeing his pet so relaxed like this puts the prince at ease, too.

"Someone," he mutters as he leans his head against the prince's thigh. "Once."

Curious, the prince does not hesitate to ask. "Who?"

"A woman," he begins.

The prince first guesses that Leon must mean his mother, but he has never brought up any information about his mother, only that of his father. He wonders if Leon even knows who his mother is, since he does not even refer to the person as his mother but rather "a woman."

"What was she like, Leon?"

"Like a mother," he says. "But not my real one. She was never around, the real one." The prince stifles a gasp when he feels his pet's fist tighten on his gown. "But I can understand why she wouldn't want to be around me. I'm…" He stops himself. "Forgive me, Master. I didn't mean to pour my emotions onto you."

"No, it's fine," the prince insists, offering his pet comfort in the form of light kisses. "If there's something troubling you, it's my responsibility to know what that is. I want to help you, Leon. You're free to tell me anything. After all, we're fr—" He immediately cuts his voice off. "Oh…Now it's my turn to get emotional. I'm sorry, Leon." Unable to speak, he brings his pet's head to his chest and buries his nose into his sharp-scented hair. "…Leon?" he speaks with a muffled voice in his pet's hair.

"Yes, Master?"

"I love you."

As he absorbs his words, Leon brings his hands over the prince's neck and wraps his fingers around the back like a web. He angles his head upwards and nuzzles his cheek against his master's. In his ear, he utters five words that feeds a lingering thought and makes him hunger for more. The prince never realized how insatiable he felt up until this point, and he is more than happy to accept what Leon has to offer him.

"I love you, too, Master."

On the last full day of her visit, the prince snacks on cream-filled cakes and rich licorice with his mother and brother. Leon is also there, idling by the firevines and eating biscuits; he has never been fond of licorice and prefers to eat sweeter things.

"I've longed to travel to Thursaunia in my youth," the brothers' mother smiles in a far-off way as she twirls her dessert fork in her fingers. "I've heard from the cooks that the cakes are even sweeter than the ones we eat now, but I'm can't imagine you would be too fond of that."

The prince and brother exchange sheepish looks, as neither of them has been overly enthusiastic of sweets. While they indulge in them from time to time, both have a preference of rich-tasting or bitter foods.

"Sweet or not, I'd still like to try them when we get there," the prince tells his mother. "I'll write to you about them. And who knows? Maybe we can try them together one day."

"Oh…" His mother breathes with a labored sigh and daintily smiles at her younger son. "I'd love that, Emil. I just wish my strength were enough to last another trip."

Like a string becoming undone, the prince's expression falls with concern. He has known all this time of his mother's frail health, but the seriousness of her state never fully registered to his knowledge. She kept things from him, even from Lukas. Neither brother knew she went blind, and they can only imagine how dire her situation is. Just hearing this makes the prince's heart swell with guilt. He never meant for his mother to strain herself. He only wanted to see her again after so long.

"Mother, if that's the case, then I'll visit you. I promise, when I return, I'll make a trip to my home. I've been meaning to see it, and I've yet to see Father. Wouldn't that be nice?" He turns to his brother for support. "Brother, what do you think?"

Their mother cannot see, but the prince can clearly see the forced smile his brother makes as he looks upon his mother's increasingly decrepit condition. Her once airy and radiant beauty has long since faded like the golden silk in her hair; her voice barely rises above a quiet laugh. Already, the fact that she lost her sight is a prominent indicator, and hearing what his brother has to say makes the prince all the more weary.

"It's a good idea, little brother. I'll be sure to ask Mathias about it, too. He hasn't seen our home in the east. I suppose I haven't been home in some time, myself."

The prince struggles to swallow a forkful of cake. Where the taste should be filled with almond paste instead tastes like a bland piece of sponge. It is a part of accepting life, yet seeing the realization come to life before his very eyes sinks slowly into him just as his cake does. He stops eating and does not dare bring up the topic of travelling anymore, instead listening to his brother move on to social activities in the capital and qualms of Mathias' well-being.

With Lukas and Emil's mother leaving in the morning, they spend the entire day with her until she needs to go to bed. Excusing herself to retire for the night, the brothers are left to themselves to wander back to their personal chambers. Mathias has been kept busy the entire day with the clean up and conclusion of the Red Summer, leaving Lukas and Emil free to spend as much time with his mother as they could.

"Something troubles you, little brother," Lukas notices as they walk together. "You can't hide it from me."

Nothing escapes the prince's brother. Having always been watching him since birth, he does not even need to be told when something lingers in his mind. It is only now that the prince can share his feelings, as their mother in nowhere in sight.

"How did you do it?"

The Shadow blinks.

"You were so calm when speaking with her. She didn't worry through you." The prince bites on his lower lip. "I couldn't say anything anymore, Lukas. I was afraid she would know."

His hard gaze dissolving, Lukas embraces him and lets out a burdened sigh. "It's not easy, Emil. From the moment I saw her, I knew something was wrong. It's a matter a adjusting to her hearing. Betraying certain emotions can devastate someone, and in this case, I had to do my best to conceal that."

The prince swallows.

"Lukas…? Is Mother going to die?"

"Oh, Emil…" A tired and long look washes over his face. He brushes a loose strand of hair away from his brother's eyes and runs his palm over his forehead. "We all are. It's a part of life."

"…But Mother's time will be coming soon, won't it?" He suppresses a choking noise rising in his throat. "Are we able to keep our promise? We'll visit her again, won't we?"

His brother kisses him and gently whispers into his ear. "Yes, little brother. We will. I'll talk with Mathias. But for now," he presses his lips to his hair, "keep your spirits up. You need to get plenty of rest. As soon as we see Mother off, we leave for Thursaunia."

"Yes," the prince nods.

"That's my little brother," Lukas lightly smiles and ruffles his hair. "You have everything packed, correct?"

"Yes," he repeats.

"Then all is well. I'll leave you to the rest of the night. Try to go to sleep early."

"Mm…" The prince's voice falters for a moment. "Oh. Brother?"

"Yes?" he softly responds.

The prince's feet shuffle in place as he attempts to compose himself. Many times in the past has he asked his brother for favors, yet this is one he is not too sure of; while his brother may be willing to comply, the prince wonders how far he can take his privileges at sixteen years of age. Right before telling his brother, he scans him for his mood. Never one to betray his emotions so easily, Lukas stands sentient and waiting for his words. The prince gives in, deciding it is not to keep his brother lingering.

"I want to bring Leon with us."

Lukas' reaction is not one the prince expected. Instead of getting angry or forbidding it completely, he lightly replies, "Very well."

Caught by surprise, the prince's lavender eyes widen. His brother has never been so open to such a proposal before; in the past, he became wary of Leon learning Crodinian so quickly and even sleeping in a bed of his own, but this, for Lukas to easily consent to the Altorienese pet tagging along, comes as a shock.

Still incredulous, the prince's eyes remain large. "Truly?" he breathes at last. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" his brother dully replies as if being told the prince woke up a minute later than normal. "You've told me that your pet has been remarkably well-behaved, have you not? He listens to you, doesn't act out of line, and is clearly branded with your mark. So as long as everyone knows he belongs to you, and as long as you're willing to take responsibility for him, then it shouldn't be a concern." He pauses. "Unless, you want me to be concerned, little brother."

"No," the prince backs down. "There's no need. I was just…" He drops his doubts. "Never mind. Thank you, brother." He bows his head as Lukas runs his fingers through his hair and kisses him.

"Think nothing of it, Emil. If it makes you happy, then I'll be more than willing to let you bring him along."

"Y-Yes." His heart easing with relief and joy, the prince cannot be more excited to return to his chambers and tell his pet the good news.

As soon as the rest of the castle dies down to slumber, the prince brings his pet to the bathhouse and announces the news. The servants have all retired for the night, and Lukas and Mathias have long since gone to bed. With the rest of the castle in lulled silence, the prince and his pet have be entire bathhouse to themselves again.

"Leon, isn't it wonderful?" the prince whispers as he pours oils onto his pet's hair. "We'll be able to see so many things. The mountains in Thursaunia are thick and green with rivers that run through the valleys. I've been told it looks like the place where my brother was born but warmer, and we'll be able to see the famous stone architecture and castles built for the royal families."

His pet submerges his entire head inside the scented waters, washing off the soaps and whatever dirt clung to his hair from the day's routine. When he arises, his bangs drip over his eyes with excess water. The prince holds back a smile as he thinks Leon looks like one of his ponies back in the west. He, too, rinses himself and proceeds to wash Leon's skin with a bar of soap. As they will be on the roads the entire day tomorrow, he wants his pet to be as presentable as possible until they will be able to bathe again. They will not be able to stay in a castle for another week or more depending on the traveling conditions, so they need to savor this bath as much as they can.

"Master, will we be seeing Queen Elizabeta when we get there?" Leon asks as he lets him wash his neck.

"Elizabeta? Yes, I suppose we will if her husband permits her to travel." He smiles and sighs. "Roderich doesn't really like to travel very much, and the capital is far from where we're going. If we'll see her, I don't think Roderich would be accompanying her."

Leon raises an eyebrow. "So the queen will be traveling alone?"

The prince lightly laughs. "Don't be alarmed. Elizabeta's a wild queen. She can handle herself. You remember her, don't you?"

His pet almost hangs his head in shame as if bringing up a cruel prank he did many years ago. "Yes. I struck her away from you. And because of that, you were punished."

"No." The prince stops and wraps his arms around Leon's chest. Being stripped of his clothes, he can feel Leon's firm chest muscles and broadness of his shoulders. When he first bathed him, he was stunned at how thin he was; now, Leon has become a fine young man with his health returning to his once atrophic body. It almost embarrasses the prince at how even when he is not as well-fed, Leon appears to be more athletic than him.

"Leon, the incident involving Elizabeta and Gilbert was my fault. I should have been more responsible for you that day. I should have told you not to do that and punished you myself. I wasn't a good master to you that day."

His pet strokes his hands. "I think you're a good master. I'm happy being here."

Touched, the prince cannot help kissing his pet's wet hair and smiling. "Thank you for thinking that way, Leon. I'm grateful." He continues to bathe him. "But can you tell me something? Why did you resist Elizabeta and Gilbert that day?"

Leon thinks on it for a moment, his eyes searching. In well-versed Crodinian, he tells his master, "Because I wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" the prince echoes. At the time, he did not think Elizabeta and Gilbert were doing anything that could have threatened him; they were simply being who they were.

Uncomfortably, Leon turns to look at his master, a discerning expression in his golden eyes. "I didn't like the way the queen touched you, Master. You looked like you didn't like it, and I didn't want you to look so uncomfortable."

"Leon…I'm touched, but I hope it doesn't come to that again. I've taught you how to behave. You will know how to react next time, right?"

"Yes," he nods. "I will."

The prince nearly drops the conversation when he remembers a small detail left out from Leon's answer.

"You never told me why you resisted Gilbert."

To this, Leon's eyes became as hard as stone. His irises bear a light, that same light he had when mentioning his past life. It does not so much as startle the prince as it does fascinate him, yet all the same, he cannot bring himself to look away.

"I'm only human, Master." It is all he says and all he needs to say.

"It's a shame my visit was so short." The prince's mother sighs along the summer breeze that drifts through her web-like hair. With how she keeps it trailing in cascades like that makes her appear to be a ghost walking in the flesh. Her pale skin glows almost white against the sunlight, and beneath her thin membrane, he can see little systems of veins underneath. "Emil, I wish I could stay with you and Lukas."

The prince takes this as an unconscious trail of thinking and springs to the call. "Then why don't you stay here in the capital, Mother?" he asks. "We've got plenty of physicians, and herbs and medicine can be brought here more easily than in the west. We can see each other every day when we return."

His mother exchanges a sad smile with his hopeless one, and she takes his hand. Like every other time, her warm mother's touch counters that of her true icy fingers. "Emil, I'd love to, but your father needs me. The west is my home, and as much as I love the capital, I love the west and my people there more."

The prince's voice cracks. "S-So, you would sacrifice your health and time with us over the west? And Father? You told me you rarely see him."

"But, Emil, I love him, and I love my home. It is there that I want to spend the rest of my days." It could be that it is motherly instinct, for even without her sight, she reaches out to her son and kisses him. "Dear, dear Emil, that doesn't mean I love you and Lukas any less. This is…This is something that you might not understand just yet."

"I can!" the prince suddenly cries, pained by the convulsing fire in his gut. "Mother, if it's me or Lukas…or anyone, just tell me!"

With a lingering smile, his mother holds him close and gently shushes him as she would do when he was an infant. "Emil, darling, I know you wouldn't understand, but it's not you or your brother. When the time comes that…" Her voice trails off. "I'll tell you this: when you fall in love, you'll understand."

"But I know what love is, Mother." He feels terrible for speaking to her this way, but he cannot help it. Knowing that she is his mother makes him feel childish and weak, even when he thinks himself to be so much more mature than this. "I love you, and I love Lukas. Both your sons are here, Mother. You would sacrifice us and your health to leave us? It's not fair—!"

"Emil!"

The prince flinches when his mother snaps at him. All this time, her voice was so dainty and quiet; he even fears that raising her voice might have done something to her lungs and feels more ashamed than ever.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he shakily whispers. "I'm sorry." He starts when her finger brushes his cheek and fixes his hair.

"Emil, darling, it's alright," she coos. "Forgive me. You and Lukas, my children, are the world to me. I can't do anything for you any longer." She lets out a heavy sigh and stifles a cough. From within her bony chest, she holds herself back from making any loud noises, as if worried another loud sound will shatter her son's spirit. "This place is lovely, and I would love to spend the rest of my days here with you, but—"

There is always a "but," the prince bitterly thinks, biting his tongue to refrain from speaking.

"—the walls here feel so foreign to me. It feels like a burden just as much as I feel like one to you. I don't want to weigh you down with worries if I stay here. You are a prince, and Lukas—sweet Lukas, he is the second-in-command to all of Crodinia. Both of you make me so proud, Emil." She holds his hands with trembling strength. "So don't make me so important in your lives. You can take care of yourselves from here. You're both adults, and the people you know and will know will be able to watch over you. I can't do any more for you, Emil."

"Mother…" His eyes are hot. Embarrassment washes over him in heated waves, and while his mother cannot see him, he has to hold his breath in case she hears him choking. He will not cry in front of her, not after believing her son is strong enough to look after himself. "Even if you think that way, you'll always be someone important to me. I'm glad to have you as my mother."

"Oh, Emil…" his mother smiles. "Thank you. For someone who can no longer see her own son, it means a lot to me to hear you say that."

"Of course," is all he can say before he needs to silence himself. He leads her back to the carriage where everyone else is waiting for their departure; along with the servants are Lukas, Mathias, and Leon to meet them.

"Are you ready to go, Mother?" the king asks his mother-in-law as she is lead to the carriage by her sons.

"As ready as I can be," she smiles at him and thanks her sons one last time. "Mathias, I'm sure you know of this already, but Lukas is my son as much as he is your husband. Look out for him and ensure he doesn't lose himself so often."

From the corner of his eye, the prince catches his brother making a miniscule crack of a frown.

"You have my word," Mathias nods. "Before I'm a king to him, I'm his husband. You won't have anything to worry about. The same goes with Emil. I will take care of them both."

She laughs her crystal-bell laugh. "I have no doubt of that," she smiles like the winter sun. "Then I have said all that I need to say. There is nothing more for me to worry about."

Lukas bows to her though she cannot see. "Take care, Mother. Have a safe trip and say hello to Father for us."

"Goodbye, Mother," the prince shortly says, his head straining to hold itself in place. With the carriage loaded and the horses and men ready, the party departs for the trip back to the western province. The prince watches as the figure of his mother disappears at first from the window and then out of sight, a sense of longing still stuck with him like a wandering ghost.

Mathias, seeing how tepid his brother-in-law is with the departure, pats him on his shoulder and attempts to cheer him up. "Hey, don't make such a long face, Emil. Once you get back you can visit your mother any time."

The prince looks at him. "Really? You'll be fine with that, Mathias?"

"Of course!" the king assures him with another pat. "It's your mother, after all! What, didja think I was gonna turn ya down?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Thank you, Mathias."

"Don't mention it. Just make sure you two get back in one piece for yer trip, alright?"

"We will," the prince nods. He watches as the king leaves him and goes to his husband who is still staring off at the road down to the capital. His mother will be heading in the westward direction while he and his brother are headed for the south. By the time they exit the capital, their mother will be far out onto the kingdom roads nearing the western province. His eyes looks lost for a time, and it is as though he cannot hear or see anyone else around him, not even his husband who sneaks up from behind and kisses his blonde locks.

Annoyed, Lukas purses his lips and elbows him in his gut, just enough that Mathias loosens his grip. Such an event is so common between the two that the prince leaves them be and goes to retrieve his pet.

"You miss her already, Lukas?" the king quietly asks as his husband continues to stare off in the same direction.

"You're one to talk," the Shadow scoffs. "You miss her, too, don't you?"

"Why wouldn't I? She's amazing, raising you two all by herself like that."

"No, you're wrong about that," he dully replies, though he is actually masking his concern. "She's always been sickly. Even before the war and before moving to the capital, she's rarely had time for us—time for me." It is then that he breaks away from Mathias and looks for his brother who has long since gone off. "She's always loved Emil more. Even his father…" Again, he scoffs and flicks his bangs away from his right eye, but they come sweeping down in stubborn trails. "Whatever the case, it was enough that she didn't hesitate to leave after all these years."

Mathias is undeterred. "But she still loves you, and you still miss her, Lukas. That's not going to change."

The Shadow releases a heavy sigh. "No, it's not. As much as it annoys me, you're right about that." He stops and scans the area again. This time, he sees his brother dragging his pet along with a red ribbon tied to the Altorienese teen's wrist. His eyebrows lower at the color and style. The ribbon was one of many that his mother gave them as gifts for the Red Summer. To see common Altorienese scum irritates him, but if that is what his brother wants, then it will be him to deal with the consequences of accessorizing him that way.

Though it is underlying, he still projects it to his husband. "Look at that. You see the ribbon on him, Mathias?"

"Who, on Leon?" the king looks in his direction. "What about it?"

Of course he would call him by his name, Lukas thinks and picks at his nails. They are neatly trimmed and cleaned, but he always makes sure they are a little sharp at all times. "It's one of the ribbons Mother gave us, the same kind that you wore on your birthday."

"Oh." Lukas does not need to know that he is not thinking about it anymore; Mathias simply does not have any more input on the matter.

"You're not bothered by it?" he asks as calmly as he can. "It's a symbol of the Red Summer."

"And it's a lovely time of the year," Mathias adds.

Clicking his tongue, Lukas throws a dagger of a look his husband's way. "Before, my brother chained him. It was clear that the Altorienese was a pet. No matter how you look at it, a chain is stronger than a mere ribbon. It weighs and strangles, it makes you remember what you are.

"But with who I'm talking to, I can't expect you to know that from the top of your head, can I, Mathias?"

Mathias regards Lukas' words and continues to observe the interactions between Emil and Leon. Even when bidding farewell to his mother, his spirits appear to still be in tact. Wherever he goes, it is as though a burdening weight lifted off of his shoulders so as long as his pet is around. He cannot remember another time when Emil smiled so often and so gently before.

"If you ask me, Emil looks happy."

Lukas throws his head back. "He does, doesn't he?" He can acknowledge that much, but that is not the point he was trying to get across. "And what will the others think of him when he brings such a primed pet without so much as a ribbon for a leash into their kingdom?"

Mathias does not know how to answer that—or perhaps, he cannot. He has seen what has happened to the Altorienese during and after the war. It was not just the empire that experienced tragedy; the other kingdoms shunned, tormented, and purged the Altorienese citizens. It could have been considered genocide. Seeing his once-stoic brother-in-law so enthralled and entertained with his pet made him forget of those times if not for a short-lived moment. He may not be as observant as his husband, but he knows enough now of why Lukas agreed to let Emil take his pet across the borders. Even for the Shadow, this is exceptionally harsh of him.

His hands clasped together, Lukas goes over to his brother and asks him if he is prepared. The rest of their conversation carries on as casually as asking about the weather. Not once does he betray any hints of his true intentions, why he wanted his brother to come with him on this trip, why he would even allow someone like Leon to ride with them in their royal carriage.

However, the Sun King also supposes that in his cruelty, never more does the Shadow appear so beautiful. He cannot be sure if this is a sort of twisted attraction, but he can find it in himself to forgive his husband should he need to. When bringing Emil into it, even, he cannot bring himself to divulge this revelation. It is such a fascination that he does not intervene. Where there is such cruelty, there is beauty. Where there is such beauty, there is cruelty.