by Chii Rempel
“Do you want to use the bathroom first? I can wait,” I say.
“Nah,” he says and lets himself fall on the bed with a sigh. My heart warms at seeing him feeling so comfortable in my room. “I’m too tired. You go ahead.”
When I come back out of the bathroom with my teeth brushed, I find the prince already asleep, sprawled comfortably on one side of the bed. His side, I think and remember all those times he used to slip under my covers when he was having a nightmare. The sight of him freezes me in my tracks. His clothes rest discarded on the floor, while he lies there, breathing slowly, gloriously naked except for his briefs. I have to pause and take a few calming breaths. It’s not like I haven’t seen him naked before. Gods know how often we’ve been naked in front of each other before.
I’ve had sex with plenty of girls, I’ve seen my fair share of naked skin. I’m everything but shy. Why is it, then, that I’m embarrassed by his exposed chest? Because he’s a boy. No, because he’s a man. And I’m attracted to him. I’m attracted to a man. Good luck denying that any longer, Xavier. I guess it’s time I’m being honest with myself.
Sighing, I climb into bed next to the warm presence of Alexander, prince of Jütland and heir to Trelburg. Really, I couldn’t have fallen for anyone more unattainable.
11
Xander
The first thing I realise is that the sun is harassing me from the wrong side. The second thing is the invitingly warm body beside me, breathing calmly. Right. I spent the night in Xavier’s bed. I turn to the side, looking at my best friend’s sleeping form. His dark skin seems lighter in the morning sun and I wish I could reach out and touch it. I could just snuggle up to his side and pretend to be sleeping, enjoy his closeness for a few minutes. I don’t. It’s a god thing I decided against it, because in the next moment Xavier stirs, yawning.
“Good morning,” I say, smiling unsurely.
“Morning,” Xavier mumbles and turns to look at me. We’re both lying on our sides, looking at each other. There’s a look on his face that I can’t quite decipher … is this strange? I don’t know if this is strange. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve woken up beside each other. Gods know how many times I’ve spent in this bed already. But somehow this feels different. We used to wake up giggling and planning how to annoy the cooks that morning or fighting about who stole the blanket during the night first. Now, there was neither giggling nor fighting. The air feels heavy around us … not embarrassing heavy, or mad heavy, or even nervous heavy. Just heavy. Xavier’s eyes are still holding the night, as if unable to let it go. They are the darkest black I’ve ever seen and if allowed, I could spend a whole day getting lost in them. I’m cheesy, I know. It’s his fault for being so beautiful.
Xavier is the first one to break the silence. “Did you … err …. Did you sleep well?”
I blink a few times before I snort, laughter escaping my lips before I can control it. The ridiculousness of the situation comes creeping up to me. This is Xavier. My best friend. What am I so worried about?
“Yeah,” I breath. “Yeah, I slept well. Thanks for having me. It … it helped.”
A smiled untucked itself on Xavier’s lips, the air growing lighter by the minute. “I’m glad to be of service, my prince.”
“I could think of a few other ways you could be of service.” The words are out of my mouth before I know it. Fuck, I never meant to say that out loud. I flinch as I see Xavier’s eyes getting wide. Great way to ruin a morning, Alexander. Quickly, I slip out of the covers and sit up on the bed to make for a hasty exit. Xavier’s arm holds me back. I turn, an apology ready on my lips, but my words die in my throat as I see his face.
His eyes are glued to mine as I only now realise naked chest, a blush blooming on his cheeks. He’s actually blushing. Again!
“Erm …,” he says informatively and quickly lets go of my arm.
“You’re blushing,” I state, because I apparently hate my life and want to ruin everything.
“What? I, err, I mean … why is this so difficult?” He’s speaking more to himself than to me. I sit back down on the bed comfortably and look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“What is?”
He glances at me, only to avert his gaze once again. “Talking to you.”
Those words send a pang of hurt right into my heart and I guess it must show on my face, because he rears back immediately. “No! That’s not what I mean, Xander. You know I don’t usually have a problem finding words around you.”
“So why is it difficult now?”
“I – I don’t know?”
“Not good enough. Try again.”
Taking a deep breath – he’s usually much more collected around me – he looks directly into my eyes.
“You’re distracting in the morning.” He rakes his eyes down my body and up to my eyes again. I don’t understand what he means, there’s nothing different about me than – oh. Oh. Now it’s my time to blush.
“Oh!” I say out loud and hastily cover myself with the blanket. Then something makes click in my head.
“Wait. You find the sight of me naked … distracting?” I’m not proud of how high my voice goes up at the end of that sentence.
“Erm … kinda. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”
Weird? He thinks I might find it weird that he’s apparently distracted by my body? Right, like this is not something I’ve been dreaming about for years. But wait … he can’t mean it in that way, can he? He’s straight. He’s slept with about half of Trelburg’s female population (at least those about our age), he can’t mean what my traitorous brain wants him to mean. Maybe he realised that I’m playing for the other team and that’s why the sight of me naked makes him uncomfortable? But who could’ve told him? Arcadia never would’ve said a word. And besides her … oh. Oh no. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern know about me. Could they have talked to Xavier after I fled the room? I don’t exactly hide my sexuality, but I also can’t say why I never talk to Xavier about it. I guess there’s never been an opportunity where it didn’t feel forced … it makes me nervous to think about him judging me.
The man in question nudges me with the elbow. “What is going on again in that pretty head of yours?”
I’m sorry, what? Reel back a second, did Xavier Aradin Colson just call me pretty? I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I think I’ve been rendered speechless.
Suddenly, there is a knock on the door and both Xavier and me jump up in surprise. Quickly we both climb out of the bed. While Xavier goes to open the door, I flee into the bathroom and curse whoever dared to disturb this moment.
Xavier
I think my cheeks are still burning as I go about to open the door. Hopefully nobody can sense what is going on inside my head right now. What was I thinking, ogling Xander like that? He must think I’m a creep. And did I really call him pretty? I think I called him pretty. My brain is a bit mushy right now and my heart is hammering too loudly in my chest. What is this guy doing to me?
I open the door and find none other than the two merchants in front of me, feral grins ready on their faces.
“Good morning, Xav,” Rosencrantz greets. He peeks behind me, his eyes roaming the room. “Have you seen our little princeling? He’s not in his room. Hasn’t been all night by the looks of it.”
“We thought he might be with you,” Guildenstern adds, grin getting even wider as he winks at me. I’m not sure they’re implying what I think they’re implying, but it doesn’t help calm my rapid heartbeat. What am I supposed to say? Would Xander be embarrassed if they found out he’d spent the night in my bed? Gods, that sounds too flippant even in my head.
“Well?” Guildenstern asks, as I’ve failed to provide an answer.
“Erm, well …”
Luckily, I’m relieved from embarrassing myself even more when the door to my bathroom is thrown wide open and a dressed Xander walks out, chin raised high and hair in perfect shape. How did he do that so quickly?
“Gentlemen,
” Xander says in greeting as he marches towards us. I don’t know what they must be thinking. I can’t see their faces, because my eyes are glued to Xander the moment he appears in sight again. I am a hopeless fool, aren’t I?
“Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, actually we thought we might help you with something,” Rosencrantz explains.
“But it seems you’ve managed that quite well on your own,” Guildenstern adds, glancing at me. Xander clears his throat.
“Why don’t we take that conversation to the dining room? Have you had breakfast yet? Because I’m positively starving,” Xander drawls and walks past the giants into the hallway.
“Well that I believe,” Guildenstern grins and winks at me again, before the two men turn to follow Xander, leaving me to deal with my treacherous heart.
Xander
“Are you guys insane?” I whine, coming to a stop a safe distance away from Xavier’s quarters. I lean against the wall for support, my heart beating so thunderously I can feel it in my throat. “What were you doing there?”
Guildenstern casually puts a hand on the wall. “The better question is, what were you doing there?”
“Nothing!” I exclaim. “Thanks to you.”
“Ohhhh, what exactly does that mean?” Rosencrantz chimes in, wiggling his eyebrows. Gods, can these guys be any more obvious?
“It means,” I explain, “that there was … something. I think we had a moment. I don’t – I don’t know, it could’ve all been in my head. But somehow it felt … electrifying Like something major was about to happen. And then you came along and ruined it!”
“Don’t get so worked up, it ruins your royal complexion,” Guildenstern jokes. I could hit him right now. If he wasn’t twice my size. And build like a bull.
“So, what now, you want to tell me you two haven’t figured things out yet?” Rosencrantz asks.
I grace him with an annoyed stare. “There’s nothing to figure out. He is straight. Or so I thought. I – I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Well, that’s easy to figure out. He knows you’re gay, let him come to you if he’s interested.”
“… he doesn’t, actually.”
“Come again?”
“He doesn’t know I’m gay. We’ve never talked about it.”
Guildenstern and Rosencrantz share a look.
“Xander, he knows you’re gay. He’d have to be blind not to notice,” Guildenstern says, cocking an eyebrow.
“Gee, thanks. Should I take that as a compliment?” I fold my arms in front of my chest and stare at them inquiringly.
“It’s not like you’re hiding it,” Rosencrantz suggests.
“Nobody else seems to notice it,” I say. “Arcadia is the only one I talk to about that. Well, and you guys. But I haven’t seen you in five years. I’m not as open as I used to be. Things change.”
There is a gentle smile on Rosencrantz’s lips when he looks at me. “You haven’t changed, Alexander.”
“Nope,” Guildenstern agrees, “You’re still the little proud, cocky prince with a touch too much for the dramatic that we used to know. And that’s a good thing.”
“Please, continue with the praise. Has anyone told you that you suck at compliments, Guildenstern?”
“Come off it, I know you love me.”
“I really don’t.”
Guildenstern only lets out a hearty laugh and claps me so hard on the shoulder that I have to take a step forward in order not to fall. He ignores my death-stare.
“Come on,” Rosencrantz says happily and swings an arm around my shoulders. “We thought we’d take you out to the training grounds today, see how your archery skills progressed.”
I groan. “Don’t you guys want to have breakfast first? I can’t deal with you any further without at least one cup of tea.”
“Had breakfast already. Not everybody decided to spend the morning in bed with their lover. Although I can’t complain about the company we had.”
I resist the urge to correct him on the lover part. It’s no use anyway. And … it’s not like hearing that doesn’t send a thrill down my spine.
“Yep, Arcadia grew into an interesting person. A real piece of work, that one, but a thrilling conversationalist,” Guildenstern added.
“Can’t argue with that,” I say, as they lead me down the stairs and towards the main doors. I let out another heavy sigh. “You’re really dragging me out without some tea?”
“Well spotted.”
“I hate you guys so much.”
12
Arcadia
The library welcomes me with the familiar smell of old leather and dusty pages. This is what coming home smells like for me. Ever since father and I moved into the castle, the library has been my haven. I had only been five years old. My mother had passed away not long before. I’d spent most of my days hiding from everything and everyone, too tired to hear people consoling me for my loss and too angry to deal with the new responsibility of being betrothed to the prince. I know, which girl doesn’t dream of being a princess, right? Guess what, I never did. I never asked for this. I always wanted a quiet life, a simple life. I didn’t even want to meet Xander. For what I knew, he was a pretentious brat who was used to getting what he wanted and I didn’t want to be another of those things. I didn’t want to disappear into someone else’s dream.
I had quickly discovered that the library wasn’t used very much. So it became my shelter, my little home inside a stranger’s prison. The books were my first friends. Most of them had been too difficult for me to really understand at that time, but I read them nonetheless. The words were soothing. They weren’t careful and polite and polished, like all the other words directed at me. They were honest and real. I had been reading myself through the dreadfully dry depiction of Jütland’s Glory Days by Morrison Thorngate, when I first saw the boy with golden locks crammed into a windowsill. He was staring intently at a book that looked so worn out, it was a wonder it didn’t fall to pieces. It was a copy of Cyndranet and Varya.
“What are you reading?” I had asked.
The boy had jumped up in surprise. Then he had fixed me with the trademark look of reproach that I have come to know is so very Xander. The first of many of those looks.
“Don’t scare me like that!” he had complained.
“Not my fault you’re such a scaredy cat.”
“I’m not!”
“If you say so.” I’d sat down next to him. “So, what are you reading?”
He’d looked uncomfortable as he’d answered. “I’m … I’m trying to read this poem. It’s supposed to be really great. But … it’s difficult. The letters don’t always make sense to me. It’s like the words are running away from me. Mr. Sastrach says I’m slow, but I know I can do it! I just need more practise.”
“I could help you.”
“Would you do that?”
“Move over, we’re starting from the beginning.”
It took me some time to realise the boy I’ve been meeting in the library in the evenings was the very prince I was trying to avoid. But maybe the universe knew. It knew that in those quiet hours hidden between staples of books I would gradually come to love Alexander.
My walk down memory lane brought me to a stop in front of the exact same shelf that I first met Xan at. The copy of Cyndranet and Varya is long gone, lost somewhere inside the depths of the castle, as Xan used to take it everywhere with him. Now, there are several new editions of the epic poem, each wrapped in thick leather and decorated with intricate lines. Beautiful as they might be, none of these editions held the memories of Xander’s and my many readings of it. He’d loved the poem right away. I’ve had to read it to him so many times that I eventually wanted to burn the damn book, but I loved to see him happy.
With a small smile, I pick up one of the copies and make my way back out of the library. My intention to sneak into Xander’s room for some comfortable reading are cut short when I’m nearly run over by a
very flustered looking Xavier.
“Oh, fuck I’m sorry, Cadi, are you okay?”
I pull out from his grip and bend down to retrieve the book I’ve let fall when he bumped into me.
“I’m fine. But you look a bit stirred up. Did something happen?”
“No. Yes? I don’t know,” he mumbles, meeting my eyes only briefly before looking around like a lost puppy. I tilt my head and wait for him to look at me.
“Xavier, we’re gonna have a talk,” I declare and grab his hand. Before I can stir him into Xander’s room, he freezes.
“In there?” His voice sounds higher than usual. So it does have something to do with Xan, of course it does. I open the door and tug at his arm. He stumbles inside, looking unsure.
“Xan’s not here,” I say.
“I know.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not.”
I fix him with my best imitation of Xanders’s who-are-you-kidding-stare. My eyebrows are not pointy enough for this, but I think the message comes across.
“Come on, sit down,” I instruct and plant myself on the divan, as I put the book down on the small table. “Tell me what happened.”
Xavier lets out a sigh of surrender and sits down next to me, head thrown back onto the backrest. “Xander slept with me tonight.”
I don’t even have a drink, but I’m choking nonetheless. “He what?” I ask, coughing loudly.
“Why do I keep saying it like that?” Xavier asks bewildered and covers his face with his hands in frustration. “Not like that! He slept in my bed, because he didn’t want to be alone last night.”
“Oh,” I say as I struggle to regain normal breathing. I would’ve killed Xander if he’d finally lost his virginity to Xavier and didn’t tell me right away. Well, after I had high-fived him. “This makes much more sense.”
Xavier throws me a desperate glance. “Does it?”
“He felt frightened and lonely. Of course, he’d run to you. Who else would he have turned to?”
