by Dan Wingreen
"But getting back to my point," the Prince continued, "you agreed to write a book about my life. And it seems to me that my first ball at a foreign court is an event worth documenting for posterity. Don't you agree?"
Elias crossed his arms, looked up over his glasses and gave the Prince his best glare. "No. I do not."
"What?" The Dark Prince's triumphant grin faltered slightly. "Of course you do."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"No, I—" Elias snapped his mouth shut. I will not be drawn into childish arguments! "And even if I did, you could just relay the events to me like you have for everything else I've already written about. There is no need for me to be there in person."
The Dark Prince blinked rapidly, then muttered, "I really should have thought of that…" He started rubbing his bottom lip with his thumbnail.
He looked so…well on anyone else Elias would have said "distraught" but he just couldn't apply that word to the Prince. Disturbed, then. He looked so disturbed that Elias couldn't help but ask, "Highness, you know my feelings about balls, why does it matter if I agree to go to this particular one?"
The Dark Prince paused in his rubbing and studied Elias for a long moment. Elias met his gaze with a hard glare. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, the Prince smiled briefly and shook his head. "You know me too well for my own peace of mind, Elias. Fine, I will tell you."
He took a step towards Elias and the scholar had to fight not to take a step back. He had no idea why he had the urge, but for some reason that didn't bother him as much as it might have. He stood his ground and kept his posture stiff, but uncrossed his arms.
"I find myself in an incredibly awkward position in your kingdom's court."
Now it was Elias's turn to blink rapidly. Of all the things he thought might have come out of the Prince's mouth that was most definitely not one of them. "What?"
The Prince laughed stiffly and scratched the back of his head. Elias had to force his jaw not to drop. He hadn't seen the Prince look this unpolished since the night he came to Elias's room to apologize.
"Your Crown Prince," the Dark Prince said reluctantly, "seems to have developed an enjoyment of running me down in front of your nobility. Now, normally there are ways to deal with such disrespect, but since I am a guest who has given his word not to commit wholesale slaughter, I find my options rather more limited than I would like. He has spent a great deal of time these past weeks lamenting that you, once again, turned down his invitation, and I had the hope that, should I procure you for the ball, he might be so grateful he let up on the constant verbal harassment." The Prince paused for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision about something. "I'm not sure how much longer I can hold off my need to tear him limb from limb."
Elias's first thought upon hearing this, was that it was an understandable urge which everyone in the castle had felt at one point or another. The second was that he didn't like the idea of the Crown Prince sending scathing remarks towards the Dark Prince. He knew how biting and unrelenting nobles could get, after all, and if the nobility thought they had royal license to verbally abuse the Prince, than he couldn't help but feel a great deal of sympathy for him. The third ended up being the most productive, and the only one he voiced aloud.
"Then I will go to the Prince and tell him to cease at once."
For just a moment, the Dark Prince's expression seemed torn between surprise, warmth and frustration. "Elias—" He let out a small laugh. "I very much appreciate the thought, but I'm afraid my dignity would not withstand the blow should it be known that I had to go running to the Crown Prince's best friend to get him to stop saying mean things about me." He shook his head. "No, if I cannot cut him open with a butter knife and strangle him to death with his own entrails, than I have to play courtly games to get what I want."
He walked slowly towards the scholar, no longer guarding the door. Elias was hard pressed to see this as anything other than a gesture of trust. Elias could escape now, if he wanted. Remove himself from the conversation and ignore the Prince's pleas. It was a rare gesture from someone who was used to badgering and manipulating to get what he wanted, and it utterly disarmed Elias.
"I know how much you despise balls," the Prince said, stopping in front of him. "And I realize that you care little for courtly politics and the feelings of nobles, but I would still very much appreciate it if you would make an appearance at the Crown Prince's ball. I know it's selfish of me, but I would like to think you know me well enough to know that I would never ask this of you if I wasn't…" He curled his lip in disgust. "Desperate."
The admission of desperation was the only thing keeping Elias from refusing outright once again. He knew how hard it was for the Dark Prince to admit weakness of any kind, and while he thought that was a stupid, pigheaded attitude to have, he was intelligent enough to realize people often had differing views than he did on what was stupid behavior and what wasn't. No matter how wrong they were. And he was sure that he would run into many worse examples of stupid, pigheadedness at the ball.
As soon as he realized what he'd thought, Elias sighed in resignation. Apparently he became slightly protective when he considered someone a friend. Interesting.
This is why I hate talking to people. It never leads to anything good.
"Fine," Elias said with a sigh. "I'll…come to the ball."
The Dark Prince stared at Elias in utter disbelief before breaking out into a slow, shining grin. "Truly?"
"Yes. But!" he continued when the Prince went to open his mouth, "I will never do anything like this again, no matter what happens to you at court. If you ask, I will hit you. Do you understand?"
The Prince laughed, but it was one of the laughs that Elias liked so he ignored the fact the Prince was most likely laughing at his threat. "Yes, I understand perfectly. And…thank you." His smile was breathtaking in its delight, and Elias found himself almost staggering from the invisible fist that seemed to have driven itself into his gut.
"Might I ask…what changed your mind?" the Prince asked.
It took Elias a moment to realize the Prince had said anything, then another to realize it was a question and, yes, questions required answers as he recovered from whatever that feeling was. He blinked rapidly as he put his thoughts back into order.
"Absolutely not," he said finally. "I also know you well enough to know the worst thing I could do is let you know how to manipulate me."
The Dark Prince laughed again. "Elias, you are an absolute delight! And an incredibly insightful one, as well," he added with a smirk.
Elias rolled his eyes.
"Now!" The Prince clapped his hands together, making Elias jump. "Since we have very little time to prepare for the ball, I say we get right to it."
Elias spared a last, desperate thought for the chapters he had rolled up in one of the inner pockets of his robe. "But—"
"No buts, Elias. No, no, don't look at me like that, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed."
No I didn't…
"The first thing we need to take care of is getting you a new set of robes."
Elias narrowed his eyes. "No—"
"I'll have to make sure they're cut to match the Crown Prince's, of course. Luckily I happen to know exactly what he'll be wearing so it shouldn't be a problem."
"Absolutely n—"
"We should probably take this opportunity to fill out your wardrobe a bit, too—"
"Ab-so-lute-ly not!" he said, forcefully enunciating every syllable to properly illustrate his absolute horror at the thought.
The Prince sighed. "Yes, I figured that was probably pushing it. Very well. But you do need one set of formal robes for the ball, that is unavoidable, I'm afraid."
"I don't see why I can't just show up as I am." The only reason he chose not to ignore the horrified look on the Prince's face was because he found himself vindictively enjoying it. "And even if I wanted formal robes, I could never afford them."
Elias, who had just been about to refuse to let the Prince buy him anything because he was too proud to accept expensive gifts, closed his mouth with an audible click.
"Excellent!" The Prince grinned. "Now, I'll need to take your measurements so I'm afraid you're going to have to remove your outer robe. It would be better if you stripped down, of course, but I know when not to push my luck."
Elias tugged his robe around him tightly before he realized what he was doing, then flushed slightly when he did. "I…"
"Come, come," the Prince said impatiently. "I promise it'll be fast and painless."
"Can't we get a servant—"
"No," the Prince said, his eyes darkening briefly.
Elias blinked. He hadn't seen that happen since the clinging nuisance, and it made him feel somewhat uneasy. Especially he couldn't figure out why the idea of a servant taking Elias's measurements would anger the Prince.
"Now let's get this over with. Come on, off!"
And with that he grabbed Elias's shoulders, spun him around and, in one deft and impossible move, slid both the outer and inner robe off Elias's shoulders and spun him back around—all before Elias could do more than squawk in protest.
After tossing Elias's robes onto a nearby table—and causing the scholar to wince when he heard the small inkwell in his pocket hit the wood with a loud thump—the Prince studied him with a thoughtful frown, which grew deeper the longer he looked at him. Feeling ridiculously exposed, Elias crossed his arms over his chest.
"What?" he asked.
It wasn't like he was wearing anything outrageous, just his usual burgundy tunic and a pair of matching, loose breeches. Well, the tunic may have been slightly tighter than Elias was comfortable with. He refused to get anything tailored and, because of his unfortunate stature, often had to dip into children's extra-large so he didn't feel like he was swimming in what passed for adult small, but surely a slightly tight tunic wasn't worthy of that much intense…disapproval.
"None of that now," the Prince said, batting Elias's hands away from his chest. "I can't get your size if you're covering yourself like a blushing maiden."
"I am not blushing," Elias snapped as he felt his face heating up.
The Prince let out a hum of indeterminate meaning and produced a measuring tape from…somewhere. "Now, stay still."
Elias bristled at being talked to like a child, but it quickly turned into what was almost a sulk when he realized his first reaction was to wiggle around out of childish spite. The Prince was efficient, at least, measuring Elias's shoulders and arms with a practiced ease. He wondered how often the Dark Prince had done this, and if he ever made clothing himself or was just naturally good at taking people's sizes, then had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud at the thought of the Prince dressed in his dark robes, eyes blazing with purple evil as he bent over a piece of fabric slaving away in an attempt to get his stitching just right. The experience wasn't as bad as Elias had feared, at least until the Prince got to his chest.
"Arms up," he said briskly.
Elias complied, only feeling slightly ridiculous. The feeling grew, however, when all the Prince did was stare at him with that same frown of disapproval.
"What?" Elias asked again.
"You're very thin," he said slowly.
Elias glared and fought off the urge to cover himself up again. "And that has what to do with fitting me for unnecessary clothing?"
The Dark Prince raised an eyebrow. "Considering your body type is directly related to your size, quite a lot, actually." Elias valiantly kept from showing how embarrassed he was at asking such a stupid question.
"And is commenting on my appearance directly related to my size as well?"
"Not at all."
"Then kindly stop."
"Normally, I would, since you asked so very nicely, however I find myself concerned…"
"Concerned about what?" Elias snapped.
"You are…much thinner than I thought." He reached over and poked Elias in the side.
Elias slapped his hand away and immediately dropped the temperature of his glare by several degrees.
"What are you doing?"
"I can feel all of your ribs," the Dark Prince said, accusingly. His frown deepened even further. "And I can see a fair number of them outlined through your shirt as well."
Elias pulled his tunic away from his body and felt his face heat once again. The Dark Prince paused for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out the proper way to word something.
"Elias," he said finally, "are you eating properly?"
Upon later reflection, Elias would realize the Prince's question was obvious. After all, there were only a small number of reasons one could have for being as underweight as Elias admittedly was, and forgetting meals was much more in line with his character than, say, allowing some kind of stomach parasite to go untreated. Right then, however, Elias was completely taken off guard. His mother used to ask him that same question in almost the exact same tone—and didn't that just bring on a whole new host of unfamiliar feelings. Most of them more than a little uncomfortable.
And it wasn't as if the Prince was wrong. Elias often forgot to eat. He knew this. He acknowledged it when he had to—such as when he started getting lightheaded from lack of food—and he'd tried to correct his eating habits from time to time, but regular meals never held his interest as much as reading and research. It was the way of his life, and not something which overly concerned him. Which was part of the reason he was so taken aback by the depth of concern he could see in the Dark Prince's eyes.
The other part was that he couldn't honestly say he disliked it.
The question did anger him, of course, but he realized very quickly that it was because he was angry at the Prince already. He wanted to be talking about their book, not about balls and court politics and Crown Princes. And he most certainly didn't want to be standing indecently unclothed in front of someone who was clinically holding a measuring tape against parts of his body that no one but he had ever touched. But the concern for Elias's health? That was actually kind of…nice. Especially the way he seemed slightly hesitant to bring it up, so unlike the Crown Prince's panicked flailings or a castle surgeon's bored, clinical interest.
Elias liked knowing his friend was concerned about him.
"I fail to see how that's any of your business."
Not that he was going to answer the question, of course.
Then, like a dance that Elias kept forgetting the steps to, instead of reacting like his mother would, the Dark Prince once again grinned.
"Excellent! Then I shall take that as an admission of guilt and a cry for help."
For the second time that night the Prince was manhandling Elias before he could realize what was going on. This time however, he was led over to his usual chair by the fire and pressed into it rather firmly.
"What are you—"
The Prince ignored him and quickly disappeared into an adjoining room. Elias let out a long, frustrated breath, eying his robes where they sat on the cluttered table. Before he could make a decision as to whether or not he wanted to gather them up and leave, the Prince returned, seemingly from thin air, and placed a rather large cake on the small, round table between the two chairs. Elias stared at it with undisguised suspicion.
"Eat," the Prince said.
"Excuse me?"
The Prince somehow managed to twist his face into an expression that was both stern and much too smug for Elias's comfort. "You are too thin. I w
ill not have you passing out or wasting away while you're supposed to be writing the book that will set me on the path to surpassing my father. You need to be fattened up, Elias. So eat."
There were many ways Elias could have reacted to that, ranging from simply eating the cake without any fuss, to walking out without a word, to the immensely more satisfying option of throwing the cake in the Prince's face. What he decided upon, however, was none of these.
"Where did you get that from?"
"My bedroom."
"And…why do you have an entire cake sitting in your bedroom?"
"Because you came by before I could eat it," he said like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
"It's two hours before midnight…"
The Prince nodded. "Yes, I tend to eat my dinner after you leave."
Elias blinked. Then looked at the cake. Then back to the Prince. "You eat cake…for dinner?"
The Prince nodded again. "Yes."
"Every day?"
"Of course not every day, that would get incredibly boring. But most days, yes."
Elias stared at the Prince with morbid fascination. "How are you not incredibly obese?"
"You'll recall I do possess magic," the Prince said dryly.
"Your magic keeps you from gaining weight?"
"Of course," he said. "Did you think I looked this perfect naturally?"
Elias cocked his head thoughtfully. That…made a lot of sense, actually. The Prince was uncommonly attractive, and vain enough to be obsessive about it, yet Elias had never seen him so much as do a sit up or take a brush to his hair. Now that he thought about it, the very idea of the Dark Prince doing something as mundane as exercising seemed slightly ridiculous.
If the ladies of the court ever find out about this they'll murder him in a jealous rage.
"Then hopefully they never find out."
Elias started. "Did I say that out loud?"
The Prince's lips twitched. "You see? Already your body is so starved for sustenance you can't even tell when you're speaking. You need this cake, Elias. Eat it. Eat it all and then we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night. I promise."
