Another one. Again, not my favorite, but hey, that's probably because I had to write the name "Liam" more often than I'm comfortable with. Bwegh.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

ACT II.

Lawlessness.

Part V.

Lapidate.

He was going to murder Liam. Skin him alive and throw him off the highest tower of Blenheim Palace. Drown him in the trench, decapitate his body and then mount his head on the Palace walls for all to see. A warning.

Do not defy me.

Because Robert was fuming. Not even the steady presence of Eleanor, trailing behind him, could calm him down.

'He did an interview with the Guardian,' he growled. 'Fucking got the media involved because he's a bloody dipstick.'

'Robert,' she called pleadingly, but there was no stopping him. He barged down the doors to Liam's room.

'Fucking hell, Liam?!' He held up the newspaper, waved it around in his brother's face.

It looked like Liam had been expecting him, sitting at the edge of his bed almost patiently.

'You've read the article then?'

'I've read the article then?' Robert repeated incredulously. 'Are you out of your bloody mind? "Prince Liam bares all about living in his brother's shadow and falling in love." The fuck is that bullshit?'

'My interview,' Liam said matter-of-factly.

'Sometimes I feel extremely privileged compared to Robert,' his brother quoted, reading straight from the Guardian. 'I had someone absolutely fantastic slip into my life really early on so I never had to experience the massive paranoia when talking to women, the way my brother has, with all the ferocious attention everyone is giving his search for a wife. On the other hand, his almost obsessive need to present a perfect picture to the people, means I too need to live by his rules.'

Eleanor snorted and Robert narrowed his eyes. She shrugged. 'Dictator.'

Robert scoffed, but continued reading. 'I want nothing more than to marry the love of my life, but I cannot. I am next in line. This means I need the consent of the reigning monarch to marry. Unfortunately, my brother, the King, cannot approve of the marriage. He's unmarried himself, heirless. It wouldn't be right. I won't wait forever, though. With or without his consent, I will get married.'

Robert chuckled darkly. 'With or without his consent.' He turned to Eleanor, arms spread incredulously. 'Can you believe this little shit?'

'It gets even worse,' and it was becoming entirely too difficult to refrain himself from wrapping his hands around Liam's scrawny, little throat and start squeezing. 'Because apparently my baby brother feels sorry for me. Because of my loneliness. Because he has what I don't have. Because he doesn't want me to be bitter. Clearly he forgot to tell them about the time when I had someone I loved, only for him to take her from me. But hey, Liam's world, right?'

He shook his head. 'You fucking cock. Didn't even have the balls to warn me beforehand, didn't you? You've made a complete fool out of me. Out of everyone. You're mocking our people by disrespecting me. I told you to wait and instead, once again, Liam is only thinking of himself. A mockery of the constitution, this artificial marriage of yours, but of course you don't care.'

He was shouting, but Liam wasn't backing down. He had gotten off from the bed, stood almost nose to nose with his brother now.

'No, Robert' He too raised his voice. 'It would be a mockery of you. That is why you wouldn't consent. This has nothing to do with your so-called people and what is right or wrong. This is all about your damned pride.'

He pushed him, both hands against his chest, and Eleanor sprang forward, forced herself between the two, arms spread wide.

'I said nothing untoward,' Liam hissed. 'I didn't call you a selfish bastard. I didn't tell them you're a controlling prick. I wanted to, but I didn't. Because I respect you as my King. But I will marry Willow, Robert. One way or another. The sooner you accept, the easier it'll be for you.'

'But why are you in such a hurry, Liam?' Eleanor asked. 'Why can't you just wait?'

Liam shook his head. 'I've waited too long already, Len. I want to get married now. We want to get married now. And he is going to sanction us. I promise you that.'

The boy was out of his mind. Out of his bloody mind. There was no way. Not after this little stunt. This was Palace business, family business, and the bleeding prat had taken it to the press. There was absolutely no way Robert would ever over his dead body sanction this fucking marriage.

He strode to the doors, his mouth a thin line, his hands clenched into fists. 'I'm done with you, Liam. You're single-handedly ruining this Kingdom. Ruining me. Well fuck you, then.'

He walked away without looking back, leaving Eleanor to stare at her twin. Brows furrowed together in a disapproving frown. 'I hope you're happy now.' Then she turned away from him and followed Robert out of the room.

That night Liam's interview was featured on nearly every channel. Social media was buzzing and 'What now?' Peter Hunt, Royalty expert, was asked during yet another BBC special broadcast. Because the people weren't stupid. They knew what Liam's "cannot" meant.

The King will not consent. And the Prince doesn't care.

'He'd have to renounce the throne,' Peter Hunt said after a moment of thoughtful deliberation. 'The Crown Act ensures his marriage will not be declared void, but if the Prince weds without the King's consent – and this interview quite strongly suggests that King Robert has already rejected his younger brother's marriage – the Prince will be taken out of the line of succession and he will be stripped of his titles.'

His answer had the entire country rioting.

Even Jennie Bond seemed outraged, because 'What King refuses his own brother the joys of marriage? A bitter one, I tell you. A bitter one.'

And suddenly #KingLiam was trending again – even Robert, as angry as he was, could appreciate the irony – and the Palace was in a state of emergency.

Once again they were all gathered in his study – Eleanor, Liam, his mother, and Spencer, Rachel and Poppy. Thank God Jasper was still banned from the Palace. Robert could all too well imagine the smug smirk on his bodyguard's face.

The weasel.

And that applied to both Jasper and Liam.

'I don't even want to become King anymore,' Liam sighed, head in his hands. 'I don't even want to be his heir. Kingship is a burden. Look what it did to him.'

'Yet you contributed to an article that made your brother look like a bad guy and now the people suddenly remember that one day they actually thought you were going to become their King,' Poppy said. Her tone was sharp – perhaps sharper than she had intended – and Liam cringed.

'And he needs an heir,' Rachel was quick to point out. 'So please don't say you don't want to be King nor heir. With the way the walls have ears here and people just randomly go off and give interviews, next thing you know it's all over the newspapers and people will be expecting you to renounce the throne. With all due respect to Eleanor, but when it's not you first in line, it's the Princess…'

'None taken,' Eleanor grimaced. 'Simply thinking of becoming Queen makes me nauseous.'

'That makes two of us,' Robert said. Eleanor frowned at him and cursed. 'Fucking prick.'

'I already died once, though,' he continued, unaware. 'So who knows when it might happen again.'

'Keep it up and I'll make it a certainty,' Eleanor muttered beneath her breath. Poppy snorted.

'I'm not renouncing the throne,' Liam interjected. 'I'm just saying that no one needs to worry about hashtag King Liam returning.'

'Nobody was worried about that,' Robert bellowed, 'until you had to open your conceited, self-regarding maw and belch forth a whole lot of malarkey at some backward thumbsucker who doesn't know cock from arse.'

He was red in the face, leaning on his fists over his desk. It was uncommon for him to lose his temper like that. Rare to actually see him blow up. Even when he'd punched Liam the other day, his movements, his stature, had been dignified. Not now, though. Robert was raging, done.

One hundred percent done.

'What are you yelling about?' Liam snapped. 'All you need to do is sanction my fucking marriage.'

Robert chuckled. 'What did you call me again, brother dearest? Bitter, right?

'Well, I'll show you bitter. I will never – do you hear me, Liam? – never sanction your marriage. Repudiate your bloody titles and get the fuck out of here if you want to get married, because you're not doing it under my roof, not while I'm King.'

A hand on his arm and he half expected Poppy to be there when he spun around, but instead he found Eleanor, taking up half of his personal space, digging her nails into his arm. Liam opened his mouth to speak, but one look from her had him close it again. She turned to Robert completely, searched his face until she settled on his eyes.

'Robbie,' she started, and there was something there. Compassion, understanding, family.

And Robert wished he could explain it properly to his sister, but he knew he would never get the words out right. Could never explain to her all the sacrifices he'd had to make to get where he was. Liam had been right about one thing. He wanted to paint a perfect picture, wanted the perfect monarchy, but it seemed first his sister with her American bastard and now his brother and his outlawed marriage were not willing to cooperate.

When were they ever going to give him a break?

'Don't you want him to be happy?' Eleanor asked. Robert frowned, but didn't reply.

'I understand, Robbie, really, I do. And what he did was incredibly stupid. He should've never spoken to the press. Not about this. And I am angry as well. But try to support him. Publicly congratulate him. Say you consented to his marriage, but simply weren't aware he had been in such a rush. Tell them that's why it's not in the Gazette and the Privy thing. Rachel and Poppy will figure out the legal stuff.

'The country needs an heir – a capable one - and you need Liam. Grant him his titles. Permit him an allowance and a home. Swallow your pride and spare Liam's. He's our brother. Family is all we have.'

My brother. The cock.

'The people will hate me,' he sighed.

'They won't,' she replied. 'Besides, we will love you. Right?'

He glanced away and his eyes met Poppy's. Dark and unreadable, but of one thing he was certain. His resolve had already cracked.

And he hated how his sister could so easily sway him. He knew of only one other person who had such a hold on –

No. He wouldn't let his mind stray there. That was done and over with. He was her boss. She his employee. Nothing more. Nothing less. And maybe the people were right. Maybe Liam was right.

Perhaps he was bitter.

'I will do this,' Robert eventually sighed. Defeated. By a skinny girl with hardly any titles of her own. I love you, Len.

She was watching him as well, a tiny smile on her face. And now that he had noticed, he wished he hadn't, because perhaps her gaze had convinced him just as much as Eleanor's words had.

'But I meant what I said,' he said crisply, his hands still balled into fists. 'I am done with Liam. He used an unsanctioned interview to basically blackmail me into agreeing to his unsanctioned marriage.' He turned, sought out his younger brother. His brows were lowered, his jaw tense. 'I want you out. By morning. Spencer' – the chamberlain jumped to attention when Robert's hard gaze landed on him – 'shall make sure Marlborough House will be prepared for you. Move the Commonwealth Secretariat to the Thatched House Lodge. I'm certain aunt Alexandra won't mind the company. Any communication about wedding plans and such shall go through Spender. Don't bother me with it, Liam. Rachel can help set up my brother's allowance and Calliope will help me prepare my speech. Now off. All of you. Begone.'

And then he was alone, his heart still racing and his muscles still tense, and fuck Liam. Truly, screw him.

Poppy returned barely half an hour later, silently, two steaming cups of coffee in her hand. Too soon, but long enough for him to calm down and put on a façade again. He smiled at her when she asked whether he was okay and they worked on his speech the rest of the night, pretending everything was alright. It was better that way. Easier. Better to not think of how badly he wished she would hold him. Tell him he wasn't alone. That Liam was wrong.

That she loved him.

But he didn't remember wishing that the next day and neither would he ever admit it.

He went on national television the following morning and did exactly what Eleanor suggested. He publicly congratulated his dipshit of a brother. He didn't read from a piece of paper because Poppy had told him it'd be more authentic if he knew his speech by heart. Perhaps then the people would believe it came from the heart.

But it was exactly as expected.

His people could be cruel. They were just like him. Only now their unkindness was aimed at him and not some guileless fool.

The King that was surpassed by his baby brother. The King who time and time again failed to find a wife. The King without an heir of his own. The King who had opposed his own brother's marriage. Because even if he didn't say so, they could all read between the lines.

Surpassed, failed, without.

Eleanor was waiting for him in his room, a bottle of red wine in her hand. Even though it was only eleven in the morning, she poured them both a glass and made herself comfortable on his bed. He sat down on the sofa, accepted the wine she offered him.

A peace offering.

'This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you,' she said, referring to his temporary dismissal of Jasper. 'But I thought you could use the company.'

He nodded.

'For what it's worth,' she said, 'I'm proud of you. You did the right thing.'

'For what it's worth,' he returned the sentiment. 'I don't hate Jasper.'

She laughed. 'Is this your idea of an apology? Because I already know that. Tell me something new.'

'He loves you?'

She threw a pillow at him, using more force than was necessary, but smiled. 'You're lucky you're my brother and I love you.'

'And Jasper's lucky that you're my sister and I love you.'

'Apology accepted then.'

He closed his eyes, lengthened himself over the entire sofa and rested his head on his arm.

There was a knock on one of his open bedroom doors and then footsteps.

'Hey.' He could hear the smile in Eleanor's voice and for a second – only a millisecond – he thought somehow Jasper had found his way back into the Palace. 'I thought you'd still be home after such a long night. Watching that one's speech curled up on some Shoreditch couch with my boyfriend who because of some lunatic's temporary bout of insanity isn't allowed into the Palace until Monday.'

'Said lunatic being my brother, the King, of course,' Eleanor added needlessly.

'I thought you'd be watching that one's speech curled up on some Shoreditch couch with my best friend who because of some lu–'

Robert cleared his throat upon recognizing her voice and peered at her through one open eye. 'Don't push it, Calliope.'

She flashed him a smile and it almost felt like all was normal again.

'I just thought I'd stop by,' she said. 'See if you needed the company. They haven't been saying a lot of nice things about you.'

She glanced at Eleanor. 'But I see you have it all under control, Princess.'

'Well,' she started, glancing at Robert. He was still stretched out on the sofa, one arm behind his head, his almost empty wine glass in the other. He looked –

Tragic.

His eyes were closed, but Robert could feel his sister's eyes on him, knew what she was thinking. Her pity angered him. He abhorred it. He craved company, didn't wish to be alone, but he would never force her to stay with him. There was no mercy for him.

'You can go.' When he spoke his voice was hoarse and he had to clear his throat before he continued. 'Go visit your bastard. I know you're dying to.'

Eleanor snorted and he heard her converse softly with Poppy. Too faint for him to make out the words. But then the doors to his room closed and there was a hand on his shoulder.

'Up,' she said. As he lifted his upper body, she slipped in between him and the sofa. Cradled his head in her hands and gently pushed him back down again. His head in her lap and he breathed out contentedly. Opened his eyes and looked up at her face. Her expression almost tender.

I must be going mad.

'Hi there.' She seemed pleased.

He didn't reply, simply studied her face.

'You did good,' she offered. 'Though I'm sure Eleanor already told you that.'

Her eyes darted to the window and back again.

'Liam left. Watson said you refused him entrance to your room this morning. Didn't say goodbye?'

He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes again. 'I have nothing to say to him.'

'It's not just about the marriage, isn't it?' Of course she couldn't let things go. He didn't answer.

'Liam is going to get married. And who knows, maybe next year around this time there'll be some little Willows or Liams running around. Because you know, after you returned from the dead and that whole thing with Kathryn was sorted out, those two actually had the time to get to know each other. Liam wasn't in the spotlight anymore. You took that from him by becoming King.'

He frowned and she lightly touched his closed eyelids with a finger. It tickled.

'You gave him that,' she continued. 'By taking the spotlight away from him, you gave him the most precious gift of all. The opportunity to find true love. And now that he has it, you wish you hadn't done that. Because who's going to take that spotlight away from you?'

She wasn't expecting an answer from him, simply kept speaking.

'There's a certain scrutiny that dominates your life, so there's no room, when you find a girl, to get to the point of being comfortable with each other without the entire country invading both her and your privacy. There's no downtime. You can always bump into a reporter, there can always be someone who wants to take a selfie. There's very little private life, which inadvertently also means there's very little room for love.

'So I get it, Robert. I get that it hurts. I understand that it's hard to truly accept that your baby brother now has, what you will never have.

'I get it and it's nothing to be ashamed of.'

She was rubbing smooth circles on his temple, massaging his scalp with her other hand. He was glad he hadn't had a haircut yet. The feeling of her fingers running through his hair was indescribable.

Incomparable.

He breathed out heavily. Opened his eyes. He wondered if other men saw her the way he did.

Magnetic.

The bloody death of him.

Mother of Demons.

He spoke, slowly.

'When I look at them, I wish it was me. Not me in Liam's place, but just me. I wish I was the one who had fallen in love so easily, who had grown to love a girl and place a ring on her finger, because I want to. Not because I have to.

'I'm jealous of him. So what does that make me? The worst brother ever?'

'No,' she said, brushing a finger over his cheekbone. 'It means you are human. Just like the rest of us.'

'If I ever marry, ever have children,' he said, 'than I don't want to end up like my father… Trapped.'

'Not if,' she corrected. 'When. You're going to marry and you will have a family. And I didn't know King Simon personally, but I know you and the twins and your mother, and I am certain he was never trapped.'

'I just don't see it happening,' he said softly, his voice small. And how does she always reduce me to this?

'It will happen,' she said. 'I don't know whether you'll be happy, but I promise it will happen. And you might not love your wife, but you will love your children. And I will always be right here.'

It felt like an unspoken agreement.

She kissed the corner of his mouth, chastely, and he found himself reaching for her. Pulled her down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her lips. She kissed him back, slowly, but drew back after a couple of seconds, her lips wet.

'We can't do this.'

She was right. Regrettably.

He asked her, 'Why are you here?'

His head rested in her lap and her hands were in his hair. She pressed a kiss to his temple.

Platonically. Except it wasn't.

And her answer was simple.

'You told me to never let you go, so that's exactly what I'm not doing.'

Unspoken agreement.

He smiled.