The Autobiography of the Dark Prince

by Dan Wingreen

  All of Elias's anger vanished in an instant. The Dark Prince's words had sounded so similar to his own thoughts. Could someone so vain and arrogant actually share Elias's views on love and attraction? It seemed impossible, and yet he desperately wished it to be true. For the Prince to love him in the exact same way Elias loved him.

  "And…when did you see this particular me?" he asked, slightly breathless and trying to hide it.

  "The night you rejected my magic and broke my nose," the Prince answered with a quick, self-conscious smile. "It confused me, because that particular magic doesn't work unless there's at least some desire on the part of its intended target, and yet you didn't give in. You're the only person who's never given in. You were strong and determined and even as I was crying from the pain and dripping blood all over my favorite robes, I couldn't help but notice that you were absolutely brilliant, in the purest sense of the word. You shone, Elias. With righteous anger and not even the smallest bit of fear at what I could do."

  Elias could hear the awe in the Prince's voice, as if he still couldn't believe what had happened. He could see the way the Prince's eyes glazed over slightly as he relived the memory, and was struck breathless with how much pure, undiluted admiration he could see on the Prince's face.

  It, too, was absolutely brilliant.

  "I was forced to realize there was much more to you than the stuffy not-librarian I wanted to see come undone at my touch," the Prince said, all his attention now focused solely on the Elias of the present. He smirked. "Although, I'll warn you, that desire hasn't gone away in the least."

  Elias didn't even try to hold back his shiver at the promise in the Prince's voice. "Then you seem to have sabotaged yourself with a chaperone, Highness."

  The Dark Prince laughed. "It seems I have. I'll just have to make sure to speed through the courtship quickly, then."

  "How very arrogant to assume that I'll just give myself over to you," Elias said, crossing his arms. "What if I find your courtship unsatisfactory?"

  The Prince looked strangely vulnerable for a moment, and Elias cursed himself for going too far. It seemed there was a line for their banter to cross after all. He was about to apologize, when the moment passed and the Prince fixed him with an unimpressed look.

  "Well, it's the only one you're getting, so you better learn to like it."

  "I, I do," he said, for once not caring that he stammered over a word. He didn't want the Prince to have any doubts that he meant every word. "I like it very much so far."

  "Good," the Prince said, not even trying to hide how much that pleased him. Elias smiled as he pushed up his glasses and was shocked when the Prince's eyes narrowed with what looked for all the world like desire at the action.

  "Did you like the gift, then?" the Prince asked. His voice was low and seemed to caress Elias's skin despite the still-appropriate distance between them.

  "You know I did," he said softly. "I…enjoyed the poem, as well."

  The Prince smiled. "I'm glad you did."

  Elias's answering smile quickly melted into a frown as a thought which had been lurking in the back of his mind since he'd recognized the Ancient Elven writing pushed its way into prominence. "Why, though? About the book, I mean. I know why… That is to say… Surely I'm not… It's rare and expensive and…"

  He let out a disgusted huff, both at actually voicing such banal thoughts and at his inability to articulate them.

  The Prince seemed confused by the question. "Why? Because I thought you'd like it, of course."

  Elias scowled and mentally cursed the Prince for forcing him to repeat himself. "But why give something so precious to me? Surely you understand its value."

  "Of course I—" The Prince's words died on his lips and, a moment later, a look of absolute incredulity spread across his face. "Elias, are you trying to tell me that you don't think you deserve it?"

  Elias crossed his arms and took a step back. "Are you saying I do?"

  "Well, I never thought this was a conversation I'd be having with you," the Prince muttered. "Do you really doubt your worth so much?"

  Before he could stop himself, Elias scoffed.

  "Elias…"

  "No one is worth what that book is worth," he said quickly, trying his hardest to sound scornful as he held back thoughts and feelings which he'd ruthlessly suppressed for most of his life. "It's priceless. A treasure."

  He was, perhaps, more surprised than he should have been when the Dark Prince shot back. "You're priceless, Elias. To me, at least. That book is just a book; a thing from my father's fortress I knew would make you happy. At the risk of sounding even more mawkish than before, you're the only treasure I care to have."

  Elias blinked, absolutely hating the tears which were threatening to fall, even as he marveled at the way the Dark Prince could make him believe something so patently ridiculous.

  "You'll regret that one day."

  He cursed himself again. Apparently, he still wasn't completely capable of controlling what came out of his mouth around the Prince. No matter how insecure or piteous it made him seem.

  "Maybe I will," the Prince said. He reached out and lifted Elias's chin, ignoring the noise of warning the chaperone made. "But I sincerely doubt it." He smiled. "I love you, my dear. I want to be with you. Not in spite of who you are but because of it. No matter what anyone else may have told you while you were growing up, you are worth more than a million Elven books and a thousand kingdoms to rule."

  Elias jerked his chin away, both to hide the flush he could feel staining his cheeks and because what the Prince was implying was insulting.

  "You think I care what other people think of me? I know what they think of me, and if it bothered me I would have changed myself years ago."

  The Prince sighed. "You may not care what people think, but you did at one point, before you realized you would never be accepted for who you were and, instead of changing, you stopped trying. And while I'm not the student of human behavior that you are, I do think you internalized those opinions even as you closed yourself off from them. I think you used them as a basis for your own self-image, however unintentional it might have been, and that's why you have so much trouble accepting the things I say."

  Elias scoffed again. "You make me sound damaged."

  "Not damaged," the Prince corrected, "Just normal."

  As far as mawkish statements went that one was particularly cloying, and yet Elias found himself tearing up again.

  Because the Dark Prince was right. Elias had never thought much of himself. His abilities as a scholar and the work he produced? Those he thought highly of. But Elias Sutterby the person? The heart of the man who shared a body with the mind? Elias had never really found much to admire in him. He was strange and off-putting and not even particularly attractive and, when separated from his work, there was really very little to recommend him.

  "Elias…"

  He was also, apparently, speaking out loud.

  "Chappy?" the Prince said.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "I need you to close your eyes for exactly sixty seconds."

  "Sir knows that I cannot do that."

  "I'll add two hundred ducats to your prearranged fee," the Prince said, sending an imploring look over the top of Elias's head.

  "Very well, sir. Counting down."

  He must have meant silently because Elias didn't hear anything except for the rapid beating of his own heart as the Prince closed the short distance between them and cupped Elias's face with his hands.

  Then, decadently soft lips were pressed against Elias's, and he didn't hear much of anything.

  Elias had never given much thought to carnal activities and so, consequently, he'd given equally little thought to kissing. He had no preconceived notions of what his first kiss would be like beyond vague concepts such as wet and messy and unlikely. Still, even with no expectations to base his experience on, he found he was incredibly surprised at how much it felt like being under the Prince's magic.
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  The same heat rushed through his veins, igniting his blood with lust he never thought himself capable of. The same loss of control infected his body as he raised his own hands to caress the Dark Prince's cool, smooth face; as Elias parted his lips and pulled the Prince closer; as he brushed his tongue against the one gently invading his mouth. All the sensations were the same but this time he didn't fight them and, without the horror and panic, he actually rather liked the feeling.

  He liked it a lot.

  So much so, a small, needy moan of protest escaped his lips when the Prince pulled away exactly fifty-seven seconds later.

  The Dark Prince seemed to force himself to step back even as his eyes darkened and burned with something that most definitely wasn't anger. He stared at Elias's lips and slowly licked his own, as if trying to taste the last bits of Elias which still lingered. Finally, after several charged moments where they both struggled to get their ragged breathing under control, the Prince spoke.

  "Do you believe me now?"

  For the longest time Elias just stared at the Prince. At his prince, because even if there was a chance of it happening before, now he was determined to never let him go. He couldn't let him go, any more than he could give up learning or breathing. After a long moment, where he tried to get his thoughts back under some semblance of control and give the Prince an answer, a small smile crept across Elias's lips.

  "No," he said simply. He paused—I can't believe I'm going to say something so…so…ridiculous—then added, "You'll just have to keep trying to convince me."

  The Dark Prince's eyes widened slightly for a long moment before he gave Elias an answering smile.

  "I suppose I can find the time."

  Chapter 20

  It had been two weeks since he'd agreed to the Dark Prince's courtship, and Elias was still slightly awed at how well it was going.

  After ending their first kiss and summoning a servant to go back to Elias's rooms and pack up his meager wardrobe and bathroom essentials, the Prince had led Elias to their chairs by the fireplace whereupon their evening had commenced in the same manner as any number of evenings. Elias's nerves—and desire—were calmed by the familiar heat from the flames and the comforting discussion of the Prince's book. The Prince was pleased with the progress and, most especially, with Elias's characterization.

  "This is even better than I could have hoped. You've really captured my voice. If I didn't know any better—and if I knew what more of these words meant—I would have sworn I wrote it myself in a drunken stupor and then promptly forgot about it. How did you write me so well?"

  "I thought of myself, then I took away any semblance of humility and my distaste for frivolity, and added overwhelming arrogance and an obsession with appearances."

  "Absolutely brilliant."

  Even their sleeping arrangements—which should have been awkward for a variety of reasons—were mostly without complication. The Prince's bedroom had twice the floor space of Elias's entire room, with a large, four-poster bed directly in the center of the room, covered in black satin sheets. Elias had stared at it for almost a full minute while the Prince disappeared into one of the doors further into the room to change out of his clothes, trying to figure out if it looked decadent or absurd. He never did decide either way.

  The Prince, thankfully, slept in nightwear very similar to Elias's, although his button-up nightshirt and sleeping pants were of much finer quality than the scholar's. He did make a disparaging remark about how little space Elias's clothing took up in his massive wardrobe, but it was easy to overlook in favor of the relief Elias felt at not having to try to fall asleep next to someone for the first time in his life while that person was undressed in some way. With the way he lounged about without his robes on, Elias had half expected the Prince to sleep naked.

  Despite the kiss they had shared and Elias's alarmingly intense desire to repeat the experience, sleeping together provided much less temptation than he had expected. Chappy—for the chaperone wouldn't give any other name when Elias had asked, only saying "I am a chaperone, sir, nothing more"—was an incredibly light sleeper who would sit up straight in his small cot next to the door and thoroughly inspect them if one of them so much as moved too loudly. It was somewhat disturbing at first, and it took several nights before Elias was comfortable enough to turn over without tensing up. Trying anything else was absolutely out of the question, something Elias was both grateful for and resentful of.

  The biggest surprise of the entire experience thus far was waking up to a disheveled Dark Prince who was startlingly puffy and unattractive in the mornings. His porcelain skin seemed to acquire pillow lines like a member of the Agricultural Council acquired morbid obesity, and Elias had never in his life been more tempted to initiate a sexual encounter. The Prince was so much more physically appealing when he wasn't unnaturally perfect.

  Even their living habits were complementary. They woke at relatively the same time, with the Prince preferring to lounge in bed while Elias got up immediately to wash and brush his teeth. He passed the Prince on his way out of the bathroom, earning a lust-filled look at his damp hair from the slightly bleary-eyed royal and a disapproving frown from Chappy for their closeness, before disappearing into the overlarge walk-in wardrobe to change out of his nightclothes. The Prince took less time grooming than he did—"Magic makes everything easier, Elias"—and by the time he was clothed, the Prince was ready to sit down to breakfast, preferring to dress after he ate.

  Breakfast passed with light conversation about their upcoming day and a few teasing barbs under the watchful eye of Chappy, which Elias found unaccountably enjoyable. For his part, the Prince was thrilled at being able to closely monitor Elias's eating habits, although Elias had very quickly drawn the line at having nothing but pastries for every meal. And while Elias would probably never admit it aloud, he did have more energy during the day when he ate a full breakfast. After eating, he reluctantly left to spend his day at the library working on the book, and the Dark Prince, equally reluctantly, went to change and spend his day at court. Every other day they met up for lunch in one of the parlors near the library, and Elias was regaled with stories of courtly idiocy and flirtatious remarks while Chappy hovered in the background. Sometimes the Prince gave Elias surprisingly thoughtful courting gifts, such as a brand new wooden glasses case delicately carved with Elias's initials, or a bottle of expensive, imported ink for his quill. Occasionally, Elladora would wander by and join them, much to Elias's thinly veiled disgust and the Prince's thinly veiled amusement.

  Conversation on those days was much less pleasant.

  After lunch they would separate again until the early evening when Elias would return to their quarters, where they would spend the rest of the night until bed in the drawing room together. Now that Elias had all of his notes completed and could finally start in earnest on the first draft, they didn't need to spend as much time discussing the biography as they used to. To fill the extra time they found themselves with, they'd taken to spending their evenings reading quietly and occasionally discussing their material of choice. Their interests varied, of course, but Elias found that variation only made their conversations even more interesting. The Prince loved sharing his passions with Elias, and his entire face lit up while he was explaining some obscure bit of tournament history or arguing his point about the merits of interspecies eugenics.

  "The perfect life form is out there, Elias. I just have to breed it and make it subservient to me before unleashing an army of them upon the world."

  He was surprisingly domestic, for a Dark Prince.

  Word of their courtship spread around the castle quickly, much to Elias's displeasure, and he couldn't go anywhere without people pointing at him and whispering. As much as he hated the attention, he did have to admit he enjoyed the way most people had stopped talking to him directly, and the reactions were sometimes amusing. At least at first. There were only so many times he could laugh at some noble's eyes widening as they qui
ckly took off in the opposite direction, or roll his eyes at the way servants suddenly fell all over themselves to make sure he didn't need anything when he passed them in the halls. He'd thought the gossip at least would have faded after two weeks—how could any courtship, even one between a foreign prince and a lowly scholar, possibly be that interesting—but not even the Duke and Marquis Hightower showing up in the infirmary due to simultaneously botched poisonings could suspend the whispers for long, and Elias resigned himself to being something of a minor celebrity for the foreseeable future.

  The Librarian loved it, of course, and had taken up the habit of summoning Elias to his office for a "quick chat" five minutes before he was scheduled to have a meeting with some budget-obsessed royal accountant, or a particularly stubborn duke who wanted to buy books from the library and didn't understand the term not for sale. At least he had until Elias had made it very clear he considered these meetings to be "interfering with his courtship" and would have very little trouble convincing the Dark Prince to call off their agreement.

  Still, even with the moderate inconvenience of renown, the only truly negative aspect of the courtship was the Crown Prince.

  He'd thought of the other prince intermittently since the ball, of the way he'd stared with undisguised heartbreak at Elias and the Dark Prince as they left together. Elias wasn't sure how it made him feel. On one hand, he'd never asked for the Crown Prince's affections. He had, in fact, gone out of his way on multiple occasions to point out just how little he thought of the Prince, along with options of varying detail for correcting those opinions. It wasn't his fault the Prince had never tried to rectify his flaws.

  On the other hand, he had known the Crown Prince for more than half his life, and the Prince had been the only person to ever try to befriend him. It felt…wrong, to be the cause of the look he'd seen on his face at the ball. Elias could admit, privately, that he'd never tried very hard to be friends with the Crown Prince. He had gotten to know him, judged him, and found him lacking the same way he had with most people. Elias had never regretted doing so before, and he wasn't even sure he regretted it now, but he couldn't help thinking that, if he had a solid friendship to fall back on, maybe there would be something he could have done to possibly avoid the situation all together. Surely, if they were friendlier, the Prince would have confessed sooner and Elias would have cared enough to let him down gently, at least. Maybe that would have been enough to temper the Prince's inevitable reaction.