A/N: This chapter is rated Q for quit playing games with my heart. In all seriousness, no sexy times, no need to break out the eye bleach. Just some warnings for some borderline problematic/racist shit in the second half of the chapter. Please enjoy!

Quarantine Day Four Part Three

Prinz Nikolas Emmerich Wittelsbach I von Deutschland was in crisis.

His cousin was dead, his ex-girlfriend wouldn't leave him alone, and his mother wouldn't stop sending him crying emojis. Mostly, he was cut up about the cousin part. It didn't feel real that Victor was gone, that he wasn't going to be around for Christmas and haunt the halls with his terrible rendition of Good King Wenceslas. Niko should have been kinder to Victor last Christmas, complimented his singing while he was still alive. Instead, Victor went to the grave thinking everyone hated his raspy baritone, and while that was true, it was quite rude to make it known.

That was the thing about Victor: he always put in the effort. Something that Niko, a constant procrastinator and improviser, always admired. Victor was a 110% type of man, a do or die that Niko knew his own father would give anything to have him be. Not that his father was ashamed of him. Not really. He just wished his son was a little more...responsible. Less of a free spirit.

The last thing King Kaspar told his son before boarding the plane to Illéa was that this was a mistake, another flight of fancy, that something terrible would happen if he kept on doing such frivolous things.

Maybe Niko should have listened to his father. Maybe if he had, Victor might still be alive.

Now, Niko had the terrible honor of packing up the meager belongings Victor had brought with him, luggage open and half-packed, full of button downs and silk pajamas. Not that the luggage had anywhere to go, stuck inside the palace just like everyone else. The palace didn't have a morgue, Victor's body likely chilling in the basement next to the dead socialite Niko dragged down there the night before.

"Thanks for helping me with this," Olivia said quietly, gently, in the way only two souls with shared pain could sound. "I'm sure a prince has much better things to do."

"He was my cousin..."

That used to mean something.

When he and Victor were children they took turns spending summers at each other's summer palaces. They played tag and swam in the lakes and went to beaches and shared video games. They had plans for their own united kingdom where no parents were allowed and all their subjects (read: action figures) were forced to pay taxes to their kings. Always kings. Never kings and queens. What use was a queen to two boys who had it all?

They weren't particularly close anymore. No longer the vacation-at-each-other's-summer-palace type of cousins, but who saw each other twice, maybe three times a year at family functions and were good for a laugh or two. Niko didn't know Victor's hopes and dreams. He didn't know how Victor took his tea or what he studied at university or if he felt the forever type of way about the hysterical blonde standing crying over his underwear.

Niko looked over to Olivia. She was a wreck. There would be no one like that to mourn Niko if he died. He supposed that, more than anything, was what made this whole ordeal the more depressing. In the face of his own mortality, Niko found he lived a rather...unremarkable life.

Shame ran down Niko's spine, making him shiver. It was a selfish thing to do to turn this tragedy into his own personal pity party.

Olivia felt no such shame.

"I just...I just miss him so much," she sobbed as she picked up one of Victor's sweatshirts and pressed it to her nose. "I used to hate his cologne. Now, I can't stop smelling it."

Victor did have an unfortunate tendency to smell like a pine forest.

"You loved him, and he loved you."

As if Niko knew anything about Victor's relationship. He'd met Olivia for the first time at Avery's birthday ball, but they seemed happy enough. Victor was content to dote on Olivia from the background, and Olivia was content to speak for the both of them. But hey, who was Niko to judge? It wasn't like he'd ever been in a stable, long-term relationship before.

"I really did. He really did."

Out of nowhere, Niko was assaulted by an armful of sobbing blonde.

"You're so lucky you still have your girlfriend," she cried, staining his sweater with her tears.

Niko was conflicted. He didn't want to correct Olivia, didn't want to hurt her further by telling her that he and Rori were exes, but that wasn't exactly true...

The cafe in Vienna was his favorite, blocks outside the city center with fantastic views of the Danube and the best schnitzel east of Berlin. Niko had been laying low, doing some solo traveling on the royal family's dime - charity galas and dinners and kissing babies for photographs. He didn't know how Aurora found him (an international film festival, he'd later find out from the corner store tabloids) but she bypassed security and sauntered up to his table as if she belonged there, slinking into the empty seat across from him and stealing his latte.

"Gross." She frowned, bow lips pursing as she pushed the cup back his way, now with a red lipstick stain on the rim. "Is that whole milk?"

"Some of us are tolerant of dairy."

Niko took a sip just to spite her, unable to look away. She had bobbed her hair since he saw her last, brown edges poking out of a light pink beret. It suited her face shape, made her look more mature.

While he was looking at her, he also saw the paparazzi behind her. The one with the weasel face and the oversized belly pointing his camera their way.

"Really, Aurora?" She had a lot of nerve, but this was something else.

"Oh, was I followed? Oopsie."

Her smile was the opposite of repentant.

"You know I hate being photographed," Niko hissed through his smile, never one to be caught angry on camera. If his parents taught him one thing, it was that the royal family was an ideal to be looked up to, not a living human thing. Humanity was for the common folk, not living idols. "One of many reasons we are no longer together."

By the morning, a thousand magazines will have their picture on the cover with some asinine headline like "Exes and Ohs: German Prince Caught Sharing Drink at Local Cafe."

"Yes, it's me, I'm the problem," Rori huffed with a roll of her eyes, everything so exaggerated. "But we have bigger problems now."

"Oh?"

"My latest movie flopped. It's barely going to crack two million domestically."

"I told you that director was no good. Couldn't stop staring at your ass."

"Well at least someone was staring at it," she grumbled.

She didn't mean it meanly. They were past the yelling and the fighting, always too good of friends to hold grudges. But it still hurt. Still made him wince and look away, closing off the small part of him that was trying to grow back in Rori's direction. She always had been too much for him, too strong and to snippy.

Too much like -

"I fail to see how this is my problem," he said, letting the cool breeze blow Rori's way.

"I need some good press, and you owe me."

"I owe you?"

"Don't pretend like the only reason you dated me wasn't to have an excuse to be closer to you-know-who. Why else would a camera-shy German prince have any reason to fly over to Illéa at the drop of a hat if it wasn't to see his gorgeous celebrity girlfriend?"

Niko winced. "Rori..."

"Come on, please? Just a few dinners, maybe we could hold hands...?" It wasn't like her to beg, and it wasn't a good look. Her eyes got too wide, like an insect. She took his hand across the table and squeezed, her sharp nails digging crescent moons into his skin. "Besides, it'll be good for you too. Lord knows you need some good press thrown your way. The whole German Federation thinks you're a shut-in with six fingers and three eyes."

Niko studied their hands, how small hers was in comparison to his. How soft. How smooth. How wrong.

"This is a bad idea."

Of course, Rori didn't know how to take no for an answer.

"Avery's birthday ball is coming up in a few weeks. You could be my date. We wouldn't have to label anything, just show up together. and we could make a plan there. Sound good?"

There was no point in fighting her. Niko had already lost, he simply had to resign himself to his fate.

"Fine."

An inhuman squeal escaped Rori's body.

"Perfect. You're perfect, Niko!" Rori leaned across the table and gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. Niko pretended her couldn't hear the cameras clicking. When she left, she was skipping. Where to, Niko had no idea. Hopefully off a bridge. Or on a plane back to Illéa where she couldn't annoy him.

"Sheisse," he cursed behind his hand, scrubbing it over his face as if to will the day out of his memory.

He loved Rori. Of course he did, in his own way. But he had dated child stars and German nobility; he had dated the Princess of fucking France for fuck's sake, and none of them had been half as infuriating as Aurora Winfield.

Someone crashed through the door, breaking Niko out of his reverie.

"Niko! There you are!" Avery sighed, posing dramatically in the doorway before throwing himself into the room. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Immediately, Niko was suspicious. His guard went up as Avery wrapped his hands around Niko's arm, pulling him towards the exit.

"What is going on?"

"I need you, it's urgent!"

"O..kay..."

Niko flashed an apologetic look towards Olivia, who only sighed and smiled back. They both knew that what Avery wanted, Avery got. And right now, he wanted Niko. Which normally was not a problem, but it had already been a long day, and Niko wasn't sure if he could hold his tongue when Avery said something asinine.

"What was so urgent to pull me away from my cousin's affairs?" he asked when they were down the hall.

Avery seemed to be pulling him nowhere in particular, and didn't pout when Niko stopped short. The last time they travelled somewhere, they wound up in a seance. The time before that, they ended up in the basement with a body. Niko wasn't up for another adventure just yet.

"I need you to teach me German."

"What?" Niko stuck a finger in his ear to make sure the canal wasn't clogged. "Why now? Why not when we were children and I tried to show you words and you cried?"

"Because now it's actually important!" Avery stomped his foot and turned bright red. "This is so embarrassing, and you can't tell a soul, but...I think I'm in love."

"In...love?"

"I know! Isn't it great? Except it's not because I can't speak his language of love!"

Niko's head was spinning. It had only been a few hours since they last spoke. What possibly could have changed? Who could he have met in this five-star prison?

And, wait, did Avery say him?

"With who?"

"His name is JR. He's a musician. I know - so edgy, so mysterious, a prince in love with a musician! The stories practically write themselves. But I couldn't help it. One look into those baby blues and I was gone. Though, the blowjob did help clarify a few things..."

"The what - ?"

"Doesn't matter!" Avery grabbed Niko by the lapels and leaned into him until they were inches apart, blue eyes boring into Niko's emerald green. "Will you help me or not?"

"I don't know..."

"Come on! Pleeeeeeaaaase."

Unlike Rori, pleading was a good look on Avery. His blue eyes got even bluer, his thin lips pinker and poutier as he pushed them out. And was that...a single tear welling up in the corner of his right eye? Damn, he was good.

If this were anyone else, Niko would tell them the fastest way to learn German was to be born one. Then, he would tell them to take a hike. Instead, he found that he was actually agreeing to giving Avery private lessons.

"Niko you're amazing! The best friend in the whole world!" Avery cheered and smacked a kiss on both of Niko's cheeks.

That was not out of the ordinary for them. It was a very European gesture and sometimes Avery did it to be "cultured" (read: annoying). It was endearing and Niko let him get away with him. But this was the first time that Niko felt his heart stutter, felt his cheeks blaze a bright red under those slightly-chapped lips.

He stared dumbstruck as Avery skipped away, humming to himself, elated that he got what he wanted.

As if Niko could deny Avery anything.

People did the stupidest shit when they were in love.

Agent Ambrosia Raine was sick and tired of all these damn meetings.

It was bad enough that she was the only woman in the room. Bad enough that these meetings were in the basement over the slowly decomposing bodies of an Angeles socialite and a British duke. Bad enough that everyone was tired and hungry and just wanted to go home but couldn't thanks to the virus killing people outside.

What made things intolerable was not knowing how Geneva Hollander and her annoying friend fit into this mess.

"The witnesses have been questioned?" Agent Raine asked one of the men by his side, a typical suit with an earpiece and a nasty habit of wearing shades indoors.

"Thoroughly. Any leads?"

"None," Agent Raine reported, a grimace pulling deep lines through his face. "Miss Edison was found with the murder weapon, but she had no motive. In fact, she had every reason not to kill the Duke, as his invitation to lodge with him was the only thing keeping her from sleeping in the halls. The Saudi Ambassador's daughter remains on watch, though I doubt a girl of her constitution could kill a man thrice her size. She was also with the Prince and Princess during the time of the murder, the coroner can confirm."

King Henry's gaze hardened. "My children are involved in this?"

"Not involved, though they did see the body before our team could arrive," Agent Raine assured, though his tone made it seem as if this offense was just as grave. "Apparently they were 'conversing with spirits' down the hall."

"What?"

Agent Raine referred to his tablet. "That was the testament of one Medea O'Lyone. She gave other, more colorful descriptions, none worthy of attention."

"Christ...How do we keep finding ourselves here?" King Henry asked, deep with disapproval though the question was purely rhetorical. Ambrosia had been asking herself that same question for days.

"Perhaps we might consider taking our chances outside the palace rather than within it," she suggested, surprised that her mouth opened without her permission.

Every male head in the room turned towards her, as if remembering that she was there. Which, for some, was probably true. The down side of working in a male-dominated field was being invisible, but that could also be a perk if used correctly.

"What are you proposing?" King Henry asked.

"Funnel our time and resources into developing a cure for this virus. If we can manufacture a cure and mandate vaccination, we may stand a better chance at survival than playing chicken with a serial killer."

"Serial killer is a strong choice of words."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, we're not living in the same world as yesterday. This is two bodies in as many days with no signs of the killer slowing down. We are all sitting ducks, ripe for the slaughter."

That put some pause in their step. Ambrosia's father looked like he wanted to shoot her with his own palace-issued weapon, but she had the King's attention, and that was all that mattered.

"Vaccination development could take months, years even. We don't have that kind of time."

"No, we don't," Agent Raine agreed. "Have we managed to reestablish connection with the outside?"

"Our signals are able to go out, but receiving signals remains a challenge," someone else spoke up, a technician of sorts if the grease-stained khakis and blackened fingertips were anything to go by. Agent Raine narrowed his eyes, no doubt wondering how someone so low-ranking got into a meeting that required top security clearance. The man was a bloodhound and a stickler for rules, but since the technician was the only one speaking with any kind of experience, Agent Raine held his tongue...for now. "It's like someone is blocking our transmissions, creating some kind of one-way loop."

"Fucking New Asians," King Henry spat.

"Is it fixable?" Ambrosia asked, cutting to the chase.

"We're trying but whatever is going on is complex and the source isn't clearly identifiable."

"Top priority must be reestablishing contact," Agent Raine said, looking to his king for approval. "Then, we should send word to the top technical minds in Illéa. Maybe they'll have some R&D funds to spare."

"Deidre went through the guest list for Avery's birthday ball. Apparently Alissa Bianchi was in attendance."

"Good. Perhaps their daughter's life will be enough incentive to lend a hand," Ambrosia said. It didn't sit right in her stomach, using some girl as leverage, but she had done worse in the name of the crown. She was sure she'd do even worse in the future.

"We should reach out to the Kang family as well," Agent Raine suggested. Normally Ambrosia's father wasn't one to make such drastic suggestions, but these were desperate times. "No offense to the Bianchis, but the Kangs have been known to get things done in unconventional manners."

Unconventional was one word to describe the power couple who took Illéa's tech world by storm, ruthlessly and systemically out-inventing and outselling every other smaller competitor within a matter of years upon setting foot on Illéan soil. Rumors had run wild in business circles. That they used blood money to fund their projects. That they participated in insider trading. That they were part machine. They had a daughter as well, just as reclusive and brilliant.

Everyone used Kang tech. Even the palace security ran off of their custom mainframe.

"Can we be sure they're not in New Asia's pocket?" King Henry asked, wary. The fact that he had not immediately dismissed the idea spoke to his desperation.

"The Kang family is driven purely by money and ambition. Illéa is a capitalist nation. Our goals align. There is no reason to believe they'd abandon a fortune for their ties overseas."

"Very well. Shift gears. But I still want a team searching for this killer. One body is a tragic accident. Two will cause panic. Any more, and we will have pure anarchy on our hands." No one protested the matter. It was done. King Henry turned towards Agent Raine and lowered his voice. "It needs not be said that there must be absolute silence on the matter."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Agent Raine inclined his head in respect. He knew his duty. He would not fail. "Discretion is our utmost priority."

The meeting dismissed itself, the suits filling out and up the stairs, the king taking some back exit that only the top of the top security clearance knew the location of. Ambrosia followed her father out, keeping two steps behind him until she was sure the other suits were out of earshot. Then, she sped up until they strode side by side.

"I'll take the serial killer angle."

Agent Raine grunted. "The focus on vaccination was your idea."

"And you hate it."

"It's a waste of time. And money. Both of which we do not have."

Ambrosia stopped short, making her father stop with her. She stared him down, analyzing the lines on his forehead, the lines around his eyes, the pinched frown of his mouth. None of which were anything strange, except now they looked tired. Tired and sad. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Go find us a killer, and do it quick," he snapped, turning away. "I'll settle the vaccination front."

"Yes sir."

"Be careful, won't you?"

That was twice her father had shown emotion. Twice he'd indicated her cared about her wellbeing. It set Ambrosia's nerves on fire. Whatever was going on, it was serious, and if Agent Raine was worried...well...

Everyone was deeply and truly fucked.