by Dan Wingreen
"You've trusted it enough to walk into my rooms alone."
For some reason, the self-satisfied look on the Prince's face only served to reassure Elias, rather than infuriate him. He seemed far too pleased that Elias came back on his own for Elias to think he'd get much pleasure out of using his magic to win his 'attentions'. But aside from that, there were those glimpses of humanity. Those small losses of control. Elias very rarely heeded instinct alone, but he thought those brief, unguarded moments were enough evidence to listen to the instinct, which told him he wasn't in danger around the Dark Prince.
Not from his magic, at the very least.
"When would we meet?" he asked.
The Dark Prince grinned in triumph. "I think every evening would be the best time for our conversations. I'm more or less a prisoner of the court during the day, so unless you'd like to sit through lunch gatherings and go on afternoon rides with me and the other nobility—"
"Evenings would be fine." Elias interrupted.
The Dark Prince laughed. It was a laugh of pure and genuine amusement, so different from any Elias had ever heard from the Prince. No sly smirks or dark humor, no teasing or provocation. It lit up the Prince's face in a way that had nothing to do with handsomeness, and Elias was startled—and not a little annoyed—to find he missed it when it was gone.
"Evening it is then." The Dark Prince held out his hand. "So, do we have an agreement?"
Elias looked at the outstretched palm for a moment, remembering the last time he'd touched the Prince. Elias wondered if his skin would still feel that smooth without magic forcing desire to run through Elias's body.
Ridiculous.
Elias shook the Dark Prince's hand.
"We have an agreement."
The Prince's hand was warm in his, and smooth, but it wasn't nearly enough to drive him into a fit of lust. He pulled his hand back almost immediately, not really all that surprised or annoyed when the Prince held onto him for just a second longer. Their eyes met, but the Prince simply smiled and let go, then walked over to one of the chairs, and elegantly lowered himself into it.
"Shall we get started?" he asked, gesturing to the chair next to him.
Elias followed and sat down. The chair was comfortable, but he barely noticed as he pulled a small notebook out of one of the other pockets in his robes, along with a small portable inkwell and a quill. The Dark Prince raised an amused eyebrow, but all he said was, "I thought we would start with my biography, and then we could get to your questions afterward."
Elias frowned slightly. He had hoped to get to his questions first.
"You did have several days to read to yourself. Days where my project, which is very close to my heart, sat in limbo, possibly never even to see its beginning. I think it only fair we start on it first, don't you?"
Elias mentally rolled his eyes at the melodrama, but he nodded. It was fair. And it was easier than fighting about it.
"Good!" The Dark Prince grinned. "I'd like to start nonlinearly; I'll tell you stories and you can write them down and sort them all out later. Now—"
Besides, Elias thought as he settled in to take notes, how long could it possibly take to write a biography about someone who was barely out of their teens?
Chapter 8
I will never ask a question to which I do not already know the answer ever again.
It had been three hours since they'd started their "conversation", and the only thing which currently surprised Elias was that the Dark Prince hadn't, as of yet, claimed he had a hand in the raising of the sun.
"—so then after I slew the Dark and Murderous Beast of the Dark and Dangerous Forest, the three maidens flung themselves at me in gratitude. It was rather odd, since I didn't expect there to be any maidens just lying about a beast's cave, but I wasn't about to let a situation like that pass me by. Three virgins! Can you imagine the luck? They were quite easy to dispatch, even the third one who really should have caught on a lot faster, and I bathed myself in their blood. It probably added an extra fifty years to my lifespan. My father, of course, was incensed since he'd been planning on taking one of them for his concubine, so he sent an assassin after me a few days later—"
It was about then the Dark Prince noticed that Elias, who hadn't been taking any notes for the past half hour, had in fact stopped taking notes.
"Why did you stop?" he asked with a frown.
Elias stared at him evenly over his glasses. "None of this is true, is it?"
"Well, I suppose that depends on what you mean by 'true'," he answered.
"None of this actually happened, did it?" Elias rephrased.
The Prince blinked. "Not as such, no. But it is all based off of a true story."
"Based off a true story."
The Prince nodded. "Yes."
"And which parts, may I ask, are true?"
The Prince stared at Elias for a moment, then grinned. "Well, the forest exists."
Elias pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do realize that we're writing an auto—a biography, correct? Not a fantastical epic."
The Dark Prince raised both eyebrows. "Of course. But isn't the point of an autobiography to lie and sell a fantastical version of your life to make yourself seem more important than you actually are? Not that I'm in any way unimportant, of course, but that only means my stories need to be even more outlandish, wouldn't you agree?"
The cynical part of Elias was impressed at the Dark Prince's astute insight into autobiographies, but the much larger part of Elias, which respected knowledge and was born from a life spent poring through text after text of ignorant musings and superstitious drivel, for the smallest glimmer of truth which, in many cases, didn't even exist, was quite sure it wanted to scream.
"I am utterly appalled," Elias said, his voice tight. "Although, I have no idea why I'm also surprised."
"Perhaps because, deep down inside, you wish to think the best of me?" The Prince suggested with a small smirk.
"I can assure you," Elias said, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "There is no alternate universe in all the cosmos where that is a concern for me."
"Alternate…universe?" the Prince asked, frowning again.
"Never mind."
"No. Tell me. I wish to know what you mean."
Elias held back a sigh. "There is a theory that every choice we make creates brand new realities, one for each choice we could have made, which then go on as if they are the only real reality."
The Prince stared at Elias for several long moments. Elias waited impassively for the inevitable ridicule. It was, after all, a new and radical theory, but Elias had studied it extensively and had taught himself much of the higher math required to adequately form an opinion on it. It seemed entirely possible, even though there was no way to prove it. Many people disagreed. He was sure the Prince would as well, and he was prepared to argue. Both because he knew the Prince didn't know the math and he was looking forward to knocking him down a peg or two, and because it would be much more productive than listening to fairy stories about beasts and virgins.
And, of course, because Elias was expecting an argument, the Dark Prince instead asked a question.
"So, what you're saying is, there is a universe out there where you never agreed to devote your evenings to me?"
Elias internally balked at the description, but if he wasn't going to get his mathematical argument then he refused to give the Prince the reaction he no doubt sought. "Yes."
The Prince's frown grew deeper as he looked Elias over like he was expecting him to disappear at any moment. "I don't like this theory, Elias. Never espouse it in front of me again."
He was so earnest and seemed so disturbed that Elias couldn't help but laugh. It was a short laugh, but it was genuine and that didn't seem to be lost on the Dark Prince.
They stared at each other again, and it was only then that Elias realized the frown had disappeared and was replaced with an expression that looked almost like wonder.
"You know
," the Prince said slowly, "I believe that is the first time I've ever heard you laugh."
Elias froze, although he didn't quite know why, and said nothing.
"It lights you up. Makes you less serious and severe. I find that I…" The Dark Prince trailed off, giving Elias a look that was disturbing, but for some strange reason not unpleasantly so. Then the Prince blinked and the expression was gone. "Well. You should do it more often."
It didn't escape Elias's notice that he'd had very similar thoughts not even four hours ago about the Prince's laugh. He had no idea what to think about that, and he briefly wondered what his face had looked like back then. Elias looked away from the Dark Prince a bare moment after the Prince looked away from him. The air in the room was suddenly filled with an awkward tension.
Elias was struck with the inexplicable feeling that another reality had just been created, and he wasn't sure if the one he was in was the better of the two.
"I am…not comfortable with writing fabrications," Elias said, moving the conversation back into more comfortable territory after a very long, strained silence. He glanced back at the Prince, only to see that he was already looking at Elias with one eyebrow raised and a small smirk pulling at his lips.
"But can they really be fabrications if they are, in fact, based on fact?" he drawled.
Elias scowled, suddenly incredibly annoyed that he was getting exactly what he'd wanted.
Completely ridiculous. I'm turning into a child. Being around royalty is obviously unhealthy.
"Yes," Elias said flatly.
"Then, of course, I bow to your expertise." The Prince inclined his head slightly, looking at Elias through his eyelashes. "But the fabrications stay in."
Elias snapped his notebook closed. "Then find someone else to write them." He started to get up, scowling internally at himself for ever thinking this would work out in his favor in any way, when the Prince spoke.
"We made a deal. And I believe I was very clear on what would happen if you broke it," he said lazily, like he was commenting on the weather, but his eyes never left Elias's.
"Our deal was that I would write your biography—"
"Autobiography."
"—your biography. Not a collection of fictional stories designed to feed your ego."
The Prince sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers above his chest. "I wonder if the King would agree?"
Elias met his aristocratic insouciance with an impassivity which was hard won. "I'm sure he will give greater weight to my argument than yours."
The Dark Prince laughed. It was one of his normal laughs, Elias noted with disdain, filled with mocking humor. "Elias, you are delightful! Here you are, not even one full minute after taking a moral stance against lying, in an autobiography no less, threatening to use your connections with royalty to get out of an agreement you made in good faith."
"I did no such thing. I merely answered the question which was asked of me," Elias said. "And I am not taking a moral stance against your fabrications. Lies and folktales presented as fact have done more damage to the study of history than the collapse of any ancient civilization. I have spent years of my life sifting through such lies, struggling to find the grains of truth hidden within, and I would never allow anything I write to add to some future scholar's confusion and frustration in the way in which half the texts I read lead to mine. It is irresponsible. A word, I understand, which means very little to royalty, but one that means much to me."
Elias suddenly felt incredibly weary. His every interaction with the Dark Prince only served to remind him why he disliked interacting with people at all. Even when he thought there was enough common ground or a mutual goal to work towards, someone's personality always ended up getting in the way. No one ever understood Elias. He either didn't talk enough, or the things he said were wrong or incomprehensible. His projects often interested no one but himself, yet they still wondered why he never collaborated with the other scholars. He had no true friendships, so his confidence and organization were taken as arrogance and obsessive compulsiveness. The few times he'd ever tried to explain himself, back before he realized how futile it was, it was taken as him making excuses or blaming others for "his problems", as if it was Elias's fault everyone was more concerned with whether or not someone was polite than correct. And this was from scholars. The one group of people in the kingdom who were still supposed to value knowledge above all. He had no idea why he even tried explaining his views to the Prince. If scholars never understood him, then there was no way spoiled royalty ever would.
"Well, why didn't you just say so?" the Dark Prince asked, breaking into Elias's irritatingly dismal thoughts.
"Excuse me?"
The Prince smiled. "Now that I know why you feel so strongly about it, perhaps we can somewhat scale back the outright untruths."
Elias stared at him for a long moment. Of course. Of course he has to do that right as I think he won't. Elias scowled.
"You do that on purpose, don't you?" he asked.
The Prince raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"
"Do the exact opposite of whatever I expect of you, right as I expect the worst." Elias crossed his arms, somehow keeping from knocking over the inkwell that was still resting on the arm of the chair.
"I really do have no idea what you're talking about, Elias." The Prince's lips twitched. "Although it does sound like you're getting angry with me because I'm not as horrible as you thought I was."
"You're trying to trick me into thinking better of you."
The Dark Prince laughed again, and of course this time it was one of the laughs that Elias liked. "You make it sound like I'm trying to cast a spell on you. Or is it that thinking badly of me is more important than getting what you want?"
Elias clenched his jaw so tight it hurt.
Both of the Prince's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Was I actually right about that?"
"No! You—" Elias bit off his words. "You are absolutely the most infuriating person I've ever met."
"Truly?" the Prince asked.
Despite himself, as was becoming a common theme around the Prince, Elias answered. "Yes. A five minute conversation with you is more enraging than an entire evening with the Crown Prince or any of Dunbar's harassments."
To his supreme annoyance, this only seemed to delight the Dark Prince.
"Tonight is even more productive than I could have thought. Who's Dunbar?"
Elias blinked at the sudden change of topic. "A scribe," he answered. "Why?"
"Oh, no reason." The Prince waved his hand dismissively.
Elias regarded him with suspicion, but before he could decide if he cared enough to press the issue the Prince had already moved on.
"Now, with regards to the fabrications—I'm willing to dial back on the outright untruths, like I've said. But I'm not willing to forsake sensationalism or drama altogether. I've read too many stuffy biographies that do nothing but present facts in a dry, straightforward manner, and it is indescribably boring. I will not have people falling asleep while reading my book, Elias. It just won't do."
Elias forced himself not to say anything. He knew the Dark Prince was trying to throw him off guard, and he refused to react any more than he already had. It was a close thing, though. Elias wanted to throw the inkwell in the infuriating royal's face in the worst way. This inability to control himself around the Dark Prince was quickly moving beyond infuriating and into the realm of being incredibly worrying.
Why was it so hard for him to keep a level head around the man?
Elias wished he had walked out when he wanted to. At least then he'd have a chance of convincing the King his request was impossible, even though he'd been bluffing somewhat in regards to any influence he might have with him. The Crown Prince certainly, and Cornelia, had always had time for Elias, but the King was very unpredictable with how he reacted to Elias. Now, however, Elias would just look unreasonable since the Dark Prince had offered an alternative.
"Define 'sensatio
nalism and drama'," Elias said, as calmly as he could.
The Dark Prince grinned in triumph once again, and Elias had just enough time to realize they were having the same argument for the third time, before he launched into what he thought was an acceptable level of excitement. Elias, needless to say, was, if not appalled this time, then definitely disturbed. They argued, and debated, and cited precedent, and in the end they finally decided on an acceptable middle ground. The Prince would get his drama, but Elias would only exaggerate up to a point, and would never include anything he even thought the Prince was making up. It would be written in the first person, as if Elias were the Prince himself, and the Prince would have the final say on the tone the book took and the phrases used. Elias, in return, would be able to add in any ancillary information he wanted on Mournhelm—its creatures, its politics, its customs, anything—even the things which didn't directly relate in any way to the Prince. Which, aside from making the book less of a farce, guaranteed Elias would be able to ask any questions he wanted at any time he wanted as long as the information ended up in the book. And if at any time the Prince failed to honor the agreement, Elias was free to go. All in all, Elias came out ahead in their negotiations, and it was making him suspicious.
"Why do I feel like I've just been manipulated?" Elias asked, as he was packing up his writing things.
"Whatever do you mean, Elias?" The Dark Prince's face was the picture of innocence.
Elias narrowed his eyes. His anger had long since gone, but even calm, he couldn't help the way he reacted to the Prince. "I will find out if you're plotting anything."
"Plotting? What a ridiculous word. Why, it almost sounds like you're accusing me of something nefarious." The Dark Prince raised an eyebrow. "Is there another expectation I'm about to fail to live down to?"
Elias shook his head, more in dismissal than denial. "It doesn't matter. Whatever you're getting out of this, I'm positive that I'm still coming out ahead." He turned to go.
"Elias."
Elias stilled, then turned back.
"Did it ever occur to you that what I'm getting out of this is more time spent in your company?"
