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Stanley’s hand gripped his silver spoon so tightly the edges were tempted to cut through his soft skin like butter. His eyes flitted to the reflection in the cutlery, and a scowl was etched into his features. Glaring at the fruit in front of him rather than his parents seemed to be the best option.
“Stanley, you left us with no other choice,” his mother said gently, reaching out a hesitant hand over the ornate table cloth. “You haven’t picked a suitable husband for yourself, and your eighteenth birthday has just gone by. A soon-to-be King needs someone by his side.” Her hair fell in delicate waves around her face, having not been braided due to the early hours. Breakfast had been tense ever since Stanley had been told by his father that they had arranged a marriage between him and a Lord from a nearby kingdom, due to his reluctance to accept any suitor who stepped forward. They hadn’t provided him with information such as which family he came from, which kingdom, not even a name . His parents most likely believed he would go running as soon as he recognised even a small amount of information that had been given to him.
Which wasn’t totally inaccurate.
“I just don’t see why I have to get married at all,” Stanley muttered. His father laughed from the other side of the table, and he scowled in return.
“Because you can’t rule alone, son.”
“Who says?” Stanley tilted his chin up indignantly and huffed. They didn’t provide an answer, and he was beginning to feel as if he had the upper hand, when:
“There is no choice in the matter. You’ll be married within the week.” King Uris said sternly, the Queen wincing at his harsh tone from beside him.
Stanley’s spoon fell to his side with a clatter. “May I be excused?” He asked through gritted teeth.
“Now, St-”
“ May I be excused? ” He repeated.
“Yes.”
The chair squeaked against the floor and made a shrill noise as Stanley got up abruptly, making sure to pick up a piece of fruit before he left and put it in his pocket for his travels. He marched past servants and smiled apologetically when he was too hasty, nearly knocking over trays of food, before reaching his room and getting dressed without aid. An attempt was made to dress as inconspicuous as possible, picking out the most drab clothes but being unable to find anything that didn’t have the Uris’ bird sigil on the breast pocket. All in all, if you gave him a quick glance he would look like any other villager.
Stanley ducked through secret hallways and doors to avoid being seen, running through the kitchens and hiding behind figures when he came across someone who would scold him for not attending to his duties. Torturously calculated steps around the castle eventually brought him to the stables, and to Beverly Marsh.
“Stanley!” She grinned. “Skipping your allotted hour of kissing the foreheads of babes and shaking the hands of your father’s associates?” His horse was nosing into her side as she spoke, and he was reminded of why he was here.
“Is she ready?” He motioned to the animal.
“Hm? Oh, give me a few minutes and she will be.” Beverly took a saddle from beside her and began fiddling with the straps. “And, you didn’t answer my question.”
Stanley sat down on an overturned crate and feigned ignorance. “What question?”
She raised an eyebrow, adjusting the saddle on the horse and stroking her back in soothing motions. “So you’re running away from something.”
He looked down.
“Some one ?”
“I’m to be married soon.”
Beverly jumped up and down excitedly. “And why wasn’t I told? To who?!” Stanley only focused on the twisting of his shaky hands.
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. I was only told this morning.” He felt a hand in his hair, running through his curls comfortingly. I’m not a horse, he wanted to snap, but he knew that Beverly was like that with everyone, animal or no. A source of comfort and cheer. “I’m sorry, your Highness.”
Stanley screwed his eyes shut. “Please don’t. Not now. I’d like to forget that for a while.” She said nothing, but made soft encouraging noises to his horse, bringing her closer and nudging him. “There you go,” Beverly paused for a second, “Stan.”
The use of such a casual name made his heart warm. “Thankyou.” Stanley grasped the reins with much steadier hands and lead his horse out of the stable, keeping an eye out for his parents - Beverly doing the same behind him. “Try not to get lost!” She called when there was a considerable distance between them.
He smiled over his shoulder and mounted his steed, giving one final wave before heading out through the gates to follow the worn path that lead to the woods. It wasn’t permitted for him to be going alone, especially when he was promised to another now, making him all the more precious, but he supposed his parents would allow him this one count of misbehaviour. Terrain became much rockier the closer he came to his favourite spot; the clearing, where he could sit by a small stream, eat and feel the earth underneath his feet. Usually this spot would be decent for bird watching also, something he knew he would lose when he was to become King. The outside world and the people of his kingdom didn’t care much about him having free time.
His horse seemed content enough to graze as he settled on the lush grass and let nature’s sounds sink in. Naturally, Stanley’s eyes scanned the tops of trees to look for less common birds, something he could catalogue in the back of his mind and perhaps jot down later. There was a wish to take off his shoes and many other layers too, to dip his toes into the water - he even went to do so, slipping a shoe off from the heel, before realising that a prince couldn’t return home with dirty feet and wrecked clothing.
A distressed shriek from behind him made Stanley whip his head around so fast he heard his neck click; he caught only a flash of the caramel mane of his horse before he realised she had been spooked - by what, he didn’t know.
“Epona!” Stanley yelled. “ Epona! ” He was scrambling to get on his feet, the grass that seemed to be perfectly dry before was apparently covered in dew, the pools of water seemed much closer than before, making Stanley tilt to the side to get away from the edge. She had disappeared behind some trees before he could even get his bearings. The sound of hooves against the ground was becoming even more faint, and he felt like tearing his hair out - no one knew he was here but Beverly, and if his parents knew she’d kept that from them, she could get fired. But what if he didn’t find his horse? It’d take hours to get back to the palace.
He cursed the impracticality of his shoes, far too supple with smooth soles. When the noise of Epona’s hooves ceased, he feared the worst, but hoped she’d took it upon herself to calm down. In the near distance he heard soothing tones; something akin to a human voice.
“It’s ok-k-kay, girl,” someone was whispering. “Has someone l-left you all alone?”
Stanley peered cautiously around a tree trunk, fingers digging into the bark and face only inches away from the structure. As the figure was facing his horse, he could only make out soft, slightly curled auburn hair, and decent clothing - there was also a horse beside him. Most likely nobility, then. Each movement he made was careful and comforting, and Stanley realised that the only person that was the same way with his horse was Beverly. Which gave him enough courage to come out into the open, clear his throat and say “That’s my horse.”
Stanley was promised to someone else - someone who didn’t have a face, a name, but someone nonetheless. And he was one to be faithful.
However, this man tempted him to discard the morals that had been so carefully ingrained into his psyche.
He was dressed in reds and purples, every inch of his outfit well fitted and some areas accented with gold. Despite him being a fair distance away still, Stanley could make out a soft smile playing on his lips, as well as the gentle blue of his eyes. He needed to step closer, see if freckles danced across his nose, crept across his chest.
“That’s…”
“Your horse?” The man finished, laughing.
“Yes. She got spooked.” Stanley fiddled with the hem of his shirt by his side, not sure whether he should reach out for the reins in the man’s grip or to make more conversation, damning himself even further if he actually enjoyed his company. His brain made the decision for him - the more rational part of it, that is.
Stanley licked his lips and stepped forward. “I’ll be leaving now. Thank you for calming her.” His horse pushed past the man and trotted over, by his side instantly. Nothing was being said, but he felt the man’s gaze on his back as he lifted himself onto the saddle, shimmying so he felt settled.
“W-Wait.” It sounded cautious. Stanley didn’t look back - a prince didn’t have to.
“Yes?”
“Maybe I sh-sh-should ride back with y-you. Just in case.” He heard the same motions of him getting onto his own horse, and moving right next to him. “I don’t want her to get sc-sc-ared again and have her throw y-you off.”
Stanley bit back a smile and turned to face the man on his left. “That makes sense.” It was so difficult to keep his face neutral his cheeks were trembling with the strain. This man didn’t have that problem; his responding smile radiated pure joy and excitement.
They set off together at a steady pace, Stanley regretting the fact that he’d spent much less time there than he’d hoped, and wishing that he wouldn’t be scolded for being found with a man who wasn’t his betrothed.
“So, who am I allowing to escort me back?” He asked, keeping his gaze forward and his back straight.
“Lord Denbrough. William Denbrough.”
Stanley’s brain ran through all of the noble families in his kingdom, and he couldn’t recall any Denbroughs in the immediate area. “You’re not from around these parts.”
William’s brow furrowed. “No, I’m n-n-not.”
“So why are you here?” It was in his nature to be suspicious; he was brought up to be wary of folk; they could be jealous of his social standing.
He then noticed William’s face broke out into a dreamy, distant smile, which he reigned in quickly. “If you muh-m-must know, I’m on official r-royal business.”
“And?” Stanley pressed.
“The rest is n-none of your business,” he huffed. It was then that Stanley noticed he wasn’t dressed like a prince at all, and that he was angled in a way that William couldn’t see his sigil. He smiled to himself and moved with the rhythm of his horse, trying to stifle his laughter. “True. But I’m curious.”
William didn’t seem to be one to be able to keep a secret, and it seemed as if he was dying to let this one out. “Fine. S-Since you’ve dragged it out o-o-of me-” he said teasingly, “I’m pr-pr-promised to Prince Stanley. We’re s-soon to be married.”
Stanley pulled on his reins, causing his horse to stop abruptly. It was then that he allowed himself to drag his eyes all the way down William’s body, and scrutinise ( admire ) him in the way he wished to earlier. This entire situation was just ridiculous.
“Lucky you.” He whispered.
The tips of William’s ears turned red, and he carried on down the path. “I like t-t-to think so.”
“And why is that? You know nothing of him,” Stanley said, contemplating whether he should come out as both the prince, and therefore his fiance.
“Well, th-this has been arranged fuh-f-for a long time now, I’ve had the time t-to ask around.”
“How long?” He asked shortly.
“Pardon?”
“How long has it been arranged?”
William seemed taken aback by the abrasiveness of his question. “Around two muh-muh-m-months?”
Looking back on it, around two months ago was when Stanley threw a drink in Lord Bowers’ face, kicked him in the groin and promptly told his parents that he “Wouldn’t be needing a husband, thank you.” In a sense he could understand the truth being withheld due to that, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth.
He smiled falsely and tried his best not to take it out on William. “What have you heard about Prince Stanley in that time, then?”
His fiance’s entire body seemed to come to life, and he turned to Stanley as fully as possible without falling off his horse. “I’ve learned th-that he’s very sweet.”
Stanley snorted. “ Sweet ? How do you know?”
“I h-have a friend named Miss Marsh wh-wh-who works in the stables here, and she would tell me m-many times about how kind he is.”
Beverly? His stomach churned, and his mind was screaming betrayal. “So she knows about the marriage?”
“What? Oh, n-n-no. I didn’t th-think anyone outside of family should know if they d-d-didn’t already.”
Stanley exhaled slowly and almost wiped his brow in a comical way. “I see. What else?”
William raised an eyebrow and prompted his horse to go faster, almost challenging him in a way. “You s-seem to care about th-this engagement quite a bit.”
He tried his very best not to look down at the sigil that seemed to be burning a hole in his chest, and sped up on Epona too. It felt wrong for him to not tell William who he was, but he figured that he could take another few hours of lies when Stanley had to put up with it for months.
So he shrugged offhandedly and ignored the comment. “Does that mean that’s all you know about him? That he’s sweet?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
William puffed up his chest defensively. “I’ve also h-heard his good looks are unparalleled.”
Stanley preened and lifted a hand to his own face, tracing his delicate features and sifting through his curls. “Anything in particular about his looks?”
There was a moment of silence, before William croaked out awkwardly “I haven’t ruh-r-really got many d-details. But I-” His laughter came out just as awkward, “I’ve been dr-drawing him how I imagine h-him to be.”
It was then that Stanley noticed that there seemed to be drawing materials peeking out of the knapsack on William’s horse, and he perked up considerably. “May I see?”
“No! I w-w-won’t even let the Pruh-P-Prince see, nevermind a str-stranger.” William automatically went to cover the top of the sack, and he looked after it wistfully. From what he could see, his eye shape was spot on.
Stanley sighed dramatically and decided to give him some privacy; at least until he revealed who he was. “ Fine. Now,” he paused for effect, “any rumours about this prince that you’ve come across? Less than savoury ones?”
“Um. Well, I’ve h-h-heard that he acts like muh-m-more of a princess than a prince,” William laughed.
His eyes narrowed. “And who told you that?”
“Have y-y-you ever came across Lord Richard Tozier?”
Of course it was him. Of course.
Richard was almost always an attendee at the events Stanley was expected to frequent as a prince. The first time they met, he had sidled up to him and raked his eyes over his body obnoxiously.
“That tunic with that belt? Stanley, Stanley, Stanley,” he’d tutted.
“ Your Highness ,” Stanley had stubbornly corrected in response.
“Oh, please,” Richard laughed. “You hate that and you know it. Come, I know where the wine cellar is. They’re hiding the good stuff.”
From then on, Stanley tended to stick by his side at royal balls. You could say the Lord put some life into his obligations. He knew which jesters told the best jokes, who was sleeping with who in court, and yes, where the alcohol was. They’d almost always end up in the corner of the ballroom giggling after a few too many glasses.
“I don’t know him personally.” Stanley said stiffly. “But I am aware he’s trying to court Prince Edward Kaspbrak.”
William nodded understandingly. “Ah yes, the s-s-sickly prince.”
His face fell. “That’s all he is to you? His illness?”
If he was being honest, the entire kingdom was waiting for Queen Sonia to pass so the prince could live in peace. Doctors had come and gone, telling her that her son was perfectly healthy, if not a bit skinny. Regardless, she pressed on, keeping him locked up for the majority of the day and being unable to leave without at least three guards. Many had encouraged Lord Richard to pursue his courtship as soon as possible; as if a marriage was somehow arranged Edward would no longer answer to his mother.
The man next to him seemed offended for a moment. “No. Quite h-h-honestly I think he’s muh-huh-uch stronger than himself or h-his mother give him credit for.”
Stanley wasn’t sure what to say to that, so they carried on in silence for ten minutes or so.
“Richard also t-t-told me...that…” It was as if now he’d spilled a few secrets, he couldn’t quite hold any more in.
“What?”
“That Prince Stanley is…” His cheeks were flushed red.
“Yes?”
“Well endowed.” William blurted.
Stanley smirked. “There are worse rumours to be spread, I suppose,” he said airily. “And it all rules in your favour, my Lord.”
“I suh-s-s-uh...Perhaps.”
He was afraid that if he went any further William would spontaneously combust, so he changed the subject again. “If you’re not from here, where are you from?”
“D-Derry.”
Stanley’s eyes lit up. “So you’ve heard of Sir Hanscom and Sir Hanlon?”
“Oh, yes.”
Another tragic love story - two knights that weren’t permitted to marry, so they ran away together the previous summer. According to Beverly, they were living a modest life in a nearby town. He wasn’t exactly a hopeless romantic, but at least they made their own decisions and took control of their own happiness - something Stanley didn’t get to do. However, when his gaze met William’s, met eyes so stunning even someone with no creative prowess like Stanley wanted to write a poem about, he found himself not caring in that moment.
“How d-do you know so much of royal affairs?”
He thought back on endless lectures from his parents, telling him that he had to know the people who would assist him in his rule in great detail, that that would help him keep allies.
“Oh, you know. Everyone loves gossip,” he lied.
William hummed, and Stanley noticed that they were nearing the edge of the woods and approaching the castle.
“If I’m being h-h-honest with you, um-” he paused. “I’m suh-s-sorry, what’s your n-name?”
“St- Samuel.” Stanley wished he had a hard surface which he could smack his head off of.
“Oh. If I’m being honest, Samuel, I have n-n-no idea where the puh-palace is. I’m supposed to buh-b-be there i-in half an hour.”
Everything about this man was endearing, no matter if he was tending to horses, or being a bit of an idiot. So he laughed. “Then why on earth were you in the woods?”
“My br-brother, George, l-l-likes it when I go to different places ah-ah-and find strange things for him, like a f-funny rock or a bird’s feather. I was looking for s-s-something to bring back.”
His soon-to-be brother. Stanley smiled at the thought. “It’s no matter. It’s only a straight road from here on out, I can take you. They know me at the palace.”
William looked at him questioningly but said nothing. He most likely believed he was a servant.
A rather huge bombshell was going to be dropped on him, so Stanley didn’t make conversation - the rest of the journey was completed in silence.
“Well, here we are.” They paused at the ornate gates, both of them dismounting at the same time. The guards hadn’t noticed them just yet, so they carried on walking, guiding their horses by the reins.
“Th-Thankyou.” William seemed genuine, and the smile they shared was sweet. If Stanley wasn’t marrying this man, he would pity the person who was, because it seemed as if he was a tiny bit interested. “So I’ll b-be going now.”
“Okay.” Stanley grinned.
William began to look confused when the guards nodded at him - he didn’t hear the mumbles of “Your Highness.”
That confusion only increased when there was a distant, angry cry of “Stanley!” from the steps of the palace. Queen Andrea was storming over to them both, hitching up her skirts, face blotchy and red. “You left, with no indication of where- oh.” She stopped short when she noticed who was accompanying him. “Lord William.”
William looked from Stanley to the Queen. From the Queen to Stanley. “I…”
The King followed shortly after, standing by his wife’s side. “I see you’ve already met. You’re very determined to disobey us, son.” The laughter behind his tone betrayed the harshness of his words.
William was still spitting out syllables at random, not sure of what to do. His mother seemed to pity him; she took him by the elbow and began to guide him towards the palace. “Let’s go inside and leave these two to talk, darling.”
“I- Yes, yuh-y-y-your Highness, I’m s-sorry, I had no idea…”
The King blocked Stanley’s vision and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. We just didn’t know how you’d react, considering the other suitors. We’ve had this arranged for around-”
“Two months. I know.” He looked past his father to see William fumbling to bow to his mother, almost falling over in the process. He smiled.
“You’ve spent time with him. What do you think?”
“I think....” On accident his eyes landed on the knapsack he wasn’t allowed to see earlier. On one of the pieces of parchment, in cursive, was S+W.
“I think I couldn’t have picked anyone better myself.”