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It's for her. Every time he puts on those fancy-shmancy Altean prince garments, every time he tries to look more distinguished than he knows he is, every time he enters one of those fancy ballrooms or parlors on Allura's arm, he tells himself this is for her and that she appreciates it.
But sometimes he wishes she'd turned down the crown and given it to Romelle or Merla instead. Even knowing that would be impossible because one, they would turn it down. Romelle is happy as part of Hunk's growing culinary empire, she finally found something she feels good about after losing her entire family and struggling to get used to being an ordinary, free girl. And Merla worships Allura, she'd never feel right about taking her place on the throne.
Two, and this is the big one, Allura carries royal blood in her veins. King Alfor's line depends on her marrying, having a child, and passing down that legacy. And unfortunately, some of the Alteans aren't too happy with her choice of future king.
"She loves you. She's going to marry you no matter what anyone says, so you can stop worrying over it." Veronica, Hunk, his mother, his brothers, Coran, pretty much everyone's said it at least once, and he knows she loves him. He'd never doubt her for a second, not after all they've been through together.
It's himself he doubts. He doesn't fit in with Altean high society, even Altean commoners rank higher than him on the social ladder. He's still just a guy from Cuba, Paladin or not, and she's their mother-quiznaking queen.
"She deserves nothing but the best, of course," most of them say. "Someone truly her equal, smart and strong and handsome."
He's not the brightest bulb in the socket, and he's famous for missing the point and being slow to catch on. But he can read between those lines and he knows very well who Allura could have had who fits their bill just perfectly. Even if that person turned out to be a lying monster who used them as batteries, who could blame them for still having a fond opinion of the person they thought he was?
And who could blame them for thinking he would've been perfect for Allura? He was everything they want for her. Lotor, with his flawless body and long, smooth, shiny white hair. With his silken voice and cultured words, keen intellect, magical abilities, flawless knowledge. Lotor, who had the most perfect table manners even for sandwiches or finger foods. Whose napkin never slid from his lap. Graceful Lotor who never tripped or dropped anything or mixed up his metaphors. Smart Lotor who understood everything perfectly from the outset.
But he was a jerk who lied to her and used her, so who cares about any of that? She chose you, Lance, stop being such an insecure whiny brat, he'd constantly berate himself. If she knew how pathetic you were being she'd be insulted, think you didn't trust her enough.
Besides, they're not all like that and he knows it. He's made friends with a few of the Alteans, a lot of the kids hero-worship him for being in Voltron and saving the universe. Tavo and Merla adore him, the latter even saying anyone important to Queen Allura is important to her. It's really just a select bunch who make him feel three inches tall.
So he keeps his doubt and insecurity and self-loathing thoughts to himself, because it's stupid. Get over it, Lance, you're a grown man, not a stupid teenager.
He walks into another fancy event, on her arm, dressed in the stiff uncomfortable prince getup that still doesn't hide how common and homely he is. Like putting a suit on a pig or lipstick on Kaltenecker. He smiles and recites the same pleasant small talk and greetings from every other formal event.
At some events he manages to get in a little small talk with Tavo or someone else before dinner and the speeches start, and that helps him relax. But he's been absorbed by another group, and so have Merla, Coran, Romelle, and anyone else he'd feel comfortable talking to.
Then Allura gets called away to talk to this week's visiting diplomats from Taujeer, and he's alone in a sea of people.
It won't be long. Just try to relax, he tells himself. He quickly seeks out the group Merla's talking with, maybe she'll invite him to join their chat.
They're talking about alchemy. All Lance knows about alchemy could fit on the head of a pin, but he sort of understands what Allura's told him about Alfor and Honerva's work in the past, and he's seen what she does. How hard could it be?
"-revive what was left of the fields," one of them says, and Lance smiles as he thinks back to his and Allura's first date.
"Allura revived an entire forest once," he says. "In just seconds, it was as if the Galra had never-"
"Excuse me," the man sniffs, "but I wasn't finished speaking." Lance's cheeks burn and he backs away slowly.
"Sorry," he mutters. Several others give him a pissy look, and he shrinks back even more. "I-I was just-"
"Anyway," the man continues, rather pointedly, "as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted..." Lance doesn't even try to listen to the rest. A few nearby guests whisper about loud-mouthed humans and subtle social cues and he tries to get as far away from them as possible.
He overhears someone mention juniberries in another corner. Tavo's having a spirited chat about plants with a woman, and Lance sighs with relief. He knows more about gardening and plants than he does about alchemy. He helps himself to a drink from the nearby table and sits down beside the group, listening quietly.
It goes well for about five minutes, Lance sipping his drink and keeping quiet so as not to interrupt, until a woman clears her throat and glances at him.
"Excuse me."
"Yes?" He tries not to seem as eager as he is to finally be addressed. But her face is stern, her lips pursed and her gaze hard.
"Do you mind? This is a private conversation," she says coldly, gesturing to the corner they're sitting in. Letting him see that they're a good foot or two away from any others, and that nobody else has approached them. Again, Lance's face burns, and his stomach twists as the sweet aftertaste of the drink suddenly takes on a sour tinge.
"I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"If you'd bothered to pay attention to your surroundings, you would know." She glares at him, and Tavo laughs nervously.
"Don't be too hard on the guy, he's still getting used to these things. Lance just wants to make friends with everyone, y'know?" And Lance is reminded of his childhood, when he'd say something dumb or silly and his mother or brothers would excuse it with he's just a little boy, he doesn't know any better. Obviously Tavo doesn't mean it like that, but the woman's words and cold stare make him feel like that stupid little boy.
Without a word, he turns on his heel and walks away, dumping the rest of his drink into a trash pail. Right away he knows he'll be called out for throwing liquid in there, but at this point it's just as well.
The evening drags by. Allura's still talking to those diplomats, and Lance occasionally tries to make small talk with the others. But he's either ignored, pushed away, or can't get a word in edgewise. Romelle and Coran and his other friends try to include him, but he trips over his words and the judging stares of others drive him away.
"Some people simply aren't fit for this life," he overhears a man saying. "Poor boy, it's hardly his fault Earthlings are so primitive."
"Yes, but at least some of them know better than to be where they don't belong," his companion sighs, and Lance's stomach knots. "Or at least pretend not to be ill-mannered little nothings."
"Poor Lady Allura, really," a woman adds. "Her taste in men took such a step backward after Prince Lotor's untimely death! If only someone could make her realize she's settling-"
He doesn't hear the rest of what she says, he's too busy running away like a stupid, whiny, pathetic child. Or at least trying to, because he's barely halfway out of the room when he feels a familiar strong grip on his arm. Allura's pulling him close to her as she stands before these people, and she looks angry.
"Unless you wish to be blacklisted from future gatherings," she says sharply, "you will not say such things about my future king, nor will you gossip, whisper, and try to make him feel so unwelcome! He will rule over New Altea alongside me, and you will practice showing him the respect he deserves starting now!"
She speaks loudly enough for the whole room to hear, and the crowd is silent. Tavo, Merla, Coran, and Romelle give a light round of applause while the others stand still for a long moment before nodding obediently, bowing before her. No, before them.
She's whisking them from the room after that, leading him to a quiet little parlor and sitting them down on a couch.
"I'm sorry I left you alone," she says. "I should have brought you with me, I didn't realize-"
"It's not your fault." He shakes his head, fighting back the tears stinging his eyes. "They're right. I've got no manners, I butted into one conversation, listened in on another. I trip over my words, I still don't know which fork to use for which food, I'm stupid and clumsy and homely and you deserve better."
He can't even look at her as all his stupid insecurities come pouring out. When he finally dares to lift his gaze, she's frowning, and he's about to apologize to her but she holds her hand up, silencing him before he can open his mouth.
"Lance, you have grown and changed so much from the first day we met," she says. "You went from an egotistical brat who only cared about the glory of being a hero to valuing a strong team and the lives of your comrades over all else. The day you accepted the black lion choosing Keith, I knew you were becoming a better person."
"You made me want to be a better person." He leans his cheek into her hand. "But those people, they're worried you're just settling for a guy like me. I mean, you could've had-"
"A prince who lied to me and committed genocide?" she asks dryly.
"Well, no, obviously...but you could've had a real man like Shiro, or a leader like Keith, or a sensitive diplomat like Hunk..."
"But I wanted the man you were becoming," she says. "Even when I had feelings for Lotor, you were on my mind." She wraps her arm around him and draws him close. "It took me a while to realize how I felt, but once I did, I couldn't imagine being with anyone else."
He closes his eyes, burying his face in her neck. It's just them right now, none of those judging faces and passive-aggressive comments and spiteful whispers. But when they go back into the ballroom, when they go to the next big event and the one after and every one in the future, he'll still be the same clumsy, homely ditz he's always been. Even if Allura's warning prevents those people from speaking against him they'll find other ways to show their resentment of having to put up with him as their king.
"They still hate me," he murmurs. "I've tried my best to fit in and be what they think I should be, but I still slip up and they still think you should've married Lotor and had pretty kids with white hair with him." Allura scoffs.
"They don't want you to improve, Lance, they just want to chase you away. As if that will magically revive Lotor and make me fall into his arms again."
"I dunno, some of them seem to think if you could revive Shiro and a forest..."
"It's not happening." She pulls him closer, holding him almost protectively against her shoulder. "I chose you, Lance, and I will never, ever regret it. They'll just have to live with it." She leans down, brushing her lips against his. "No matter how clumsy you are, or whether or not you know the name and blood type of the first alchemist who ever lived, or how many times you use the wrong fork, I love you."
He melts into her embrace with a sigh, letting the tears spill over.
"I didn't want you to think I didn't trust you," he murmurs as she strokes his back. "It's just me, I know I've never been anything special and the way everyone acts around me and talks about me like I'm not even there just drives the point home." He sighs. "Like I'm not even worth badmouthing to my face."
That's what hurts the most, he's finally realizing. These people don't just hate him, they hate him enough to treat him like the Invisible Paladin. Like he doesn't-shouldn't exist in their world.
Some people are just like that, he knows this well enough. But it still hurts.
Allura doesn't say anything while he cries on her, though. She just holds him and lets him, and when the tears finally stop and he dares to look up at her, her expression is warm and sympathetic.
"You're worth everything to me, Lance. If I wanted a perfect, flawless prince who did everything right I'd have Pidge build me a husband, but I'd much rather have an imperfect human," she says. "I'll love you whether you don't change at all from here, or if you suddenly become a master of alchemy and forks overnight. You're my Lance, and they're going to have to accept it."
"And if they don't?"
"They're not invited to any more events. I was serious when I said I'd blacklist them." He manages a tiny smile.
"Thanks." He sighs. "We've gotta go back and eat with those people, don't we?"
"I'm afraid so. But I'll arrange to have a couple seats changed," she says with a wink.
She gives him a few minutes to splash cold water on his face and straighten his clothes. When he gets a look in the mirror, he doesn't find himself cringing or recoiling as he usually does. For once, he doesn't see livestock in silks, but the man Allura believes he is.
He's just a guy from Cuba. He doesn't know much about alchemy or history, he's clumsy and overemotional and average-looking. But Allura loves him, and she'll never let anyone tell her what she "should" have.
She chose me. No matter what any of them say or whisper behind my back, she chose me.
The rest of the evening goes much better.