(*cough* I have a for my art now, I was thinking about making a tier include like, lil fic snippits from upcoming projects. anyhow if you'd like, check it out. it's p empty cuz I just started it this month, rip. https//GoodieGhosty )

Sometimes Dark needed a cane. It was as simple as that. Every so often, for a few days or so, he'd get a pain in his left knee. Nothing too worrying. The cane just made walking easier on him.

At the moment he was seated, pulled up next to a window in the study with a hefty book in his lap. No romance novels today. He was doing research. After having a little chat with his parents about his savior things just weren't making all that much sense. Details had been fuddled and mixed up. Wilford had told him one thing and his parents another, and he was keen on discovering what was the truth. The old fashioned way.

With dusty old books and paper cuts.

He had given his parents a name of a kingdom that Dark of course assumed he had made up on the spot. Even though he had told him he was from the kingdom of flowers. Which was another thing: the Kingdom of Flowers was the name of a popular florist.

If Dark had made a wrong assumption in believing Wilford was actual royalty that was fine, but that didn't explain why Wilford would tell his parents that his family ruled... 'Manoriac'? That even looked made up when it was written down. And yet there was a book on its history. So perhaps it actually did exist.

He flipped through the pages, faltering.

Or had.

It turns out the entire kingdom had up and vanished into thin air not fifty years ago. Now Dark has heard of powerful rulers being able to cloak entire kingdoms and hide them from sight. It wasn't unheard of. But for so long? What could they possibly be trying to hide themselves from?

The book didn't say. That was the very end of it.

Dark frowned, closing the book and leaning back in his chair. Wilford Warfstache was beginning to look like an enigma wrapped up in a puzzled bow. And he wasn't liking it.

"Working hard?"

Dark started, slapping his palms hard down on the table top with a solid 'thwack'. He didn't have to turn around to see who it was. "Are you going to make a habit out of sneaking up on me like this?"

There was chuckling, and soon Wilford had pulled up a chair, getting up close and personal with the prince. "Only if you keeo making it so easy... What're you reading?"

There was no way in Hell Dark was going to tell Wilford that he had suspicions about him. Especially not when they were alone. He wasn't an idiot. "I overheard my mother spouting some nonsense about some kingdom, I got curious." he could sense Wilford tensing up at his side, hands gently brushing the unused ink well and quills aside as he tidied up. Kept his hands and mind busy. "Don't know why she's gained such an interest in a place that's long since vanished."

"Well," Wilford shifted, crossing one leg over the other. "You know how bored mothers can be."

"Is yours anything like that?"

There was silence. Dark had the feeling he touched on a sensitive subject, set to retract his question but Wilford was faster. "My mother left us years ago. After she had my half brother with-" he bit his tongue, literally bit it. "-with... the new king. I suppose this wasn't the life she wanted for herself."

That was odd, Dark had sworn he heard Wilford say he had an older brother.

"Is your half brother the one with-forgive me-the melon madness?" he inquired, digging just a tiny bit. All these misplaced details-it wasn't looking good for Wilford.

"Oh yes, Walter." his eyes lit up, hands flitting over the front of his shirt. Was there dust? "He-well since he's the current king's only son he's in favor to rule. It's a lot of pressure, you see."

Dark didn't say anything. He wasn't about to let out that he was onto him. But it was still disheartening. He had really been hoping to clear Wilford of the suspicions.

"The Flower Festival!" Wilford blurted out, sitting up straight. A complete topic change that came from nowhere. It almost caught Dark off guard, but he was glad for the change.

"Yes? What about it?" he turned his chair towards him, a mistake. Wilford looked so cute when he was all so frazzled. He wanted to pull him in for a good kiss right there. But that wouldn't be appropriate. And would likely end with a knife in his back.

"What sort of festivities take place during the Flower Festival?"

"Ah. Well for starters there's a lot of dancing. Drinking. Poetry. The main event is a parade. You and I will likely have to sit on a float together. Seeing as I'm the Prince and you're the guest of honor." On top of dancing together, sitting together, pretty much being wedged together from the very start of the party. It would give Wilford plenty opportunity to off him. He just knew it.

The festival was going to be a nightmare.

"Will I have to wear anything fancy?" he asked, "I didn't anticipate on staying so long, you see. It was just supposed to be a simple, quick thing. With the flowers."

Yeah, the flowers.

"No, no. What you have will do. I would recommend having them washed beforehand though." it felt odd to be talking so calmly with someone who might very well be planning to kill him.

But did Dark really care? Did he mind that these might just be his last days? He didn't feel like he did. Sure, he liked living. It was nice, he guessed. He didn't like all the expectations though. All the constant pressure from his parents, from his people. 'Get married', 'have children', 'rule'. It was all so draining.

And he thought he found something that made it worthwhile.

But if Wilford wasn't his soulbond then he didn't really know what to do with himself.

"I'll come get you when it's an hour from starting." Dark decided, "So don't stray too far from the guest chambers."

Why did he feel so antsy?

"We'll walk in together." Wilford smiled.

"Yes, together." except not quite.