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“Something troubles you, your majesty?”
Regis sighed, leaning heavily on his cane. Through the ornate window before him, he watched the city below, tiny specs of bustling activity as the citizens went about their business.
“I suppose you would call my bluff should I say ‘no,’ old friend,” he smiled. Beside him, Clarus huffed a small laugh.
“I would be remiss in my duty if I did not notice changes in your majesty’s demeanor.”
Sun shone bright over Insomnia, lighting the buildings and skyscrapers, glittering off the cars that travelled the highways. Inside the glass, the royal library was peacefully silent.
“My son.” Regis stepped closer to the window and touched the glass. “Have I truly done right by him?”
Clarus hummed. “His highness has grown into a fine young man thanks to your majesty’s guidance,” he said.
“And yours,” Regis smiled. “But have I made the right choice for him now?” His cane clicked on the marble floors as he left the window to walk among the rows of books. “I have given him a life of freedom, so that he might discover the man he wishes to be, only to impose a marriage upon him.”
Following close behind, Clarus made a thoughtful sound. “You worry that he will be unhappy with Lady Lunafreya.”
Stopping near a collection of reference texts, Regis sagged. “Noctis is a very private person. He does not openly show emotion often - and he has not shared his opinion on the matter with me.” Recalling the day that Lunafreya arrived in Insomnia, Regis frowned. Noctis had kept his manners well enough when the princess of Tenebrae had arrived, but it was impossible to not notice how stiff and formal he was in her presence, even after several days. “They knew each other as children, but now that they are both grown, I fear they may be incompatible.”
“Their marriage will bring about a valuable political union,” Clarus said. “I believe his highness understands the gravity of it.”
“Perhaps.” Regis turned to Clarus. “But his mother - she and I chose each other. Have I robbed him of this? Of the joy in finding love?”
His shield smiled. “Your majesty cares greatly for his highness.”
Regis sighed, leaning on his cane. He was keenly aware of the burden of royalty, that his life was not his own, and neither would be his son’s. A king’s duty was to his people, always. An arranged marriage would unite nations and bring about peace and prosperity to many - but Regis still felt torn. He loved Noctis more than anything, the very light of his life, who had Aulea’s eyes and smile. He wanted to see him happy, and it weighed heavy on his heart to think that the decision had caused his son grief. Perhaps he should speak with Noctis frankly about the engagement.
The doors to the library swung open suddenly, a set of footsteps rushing through them, one light and the other heavy. Soft giggles followed suit, the voices familiar, coming close. Regis peeked around a bookshelf, curious.
Several rows away, Noctis and Lunafreya were hand in hand, dressed in formal clothing. Noctis turned to put his back against a bookshelf and pulled her to him; she went pliantly, laughing, threading her fingers into his hair and kissing him soundly. His arms coiled around her waist.
“You,” Noctis said between kisses, “Are gonna get us in so much trouble.”
Lunafreya laughed against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Is it so scandalous to spend time with my betrothed?”
Leaning down, Noctis nipped at her bottom lip. “It is when we’re both supposed to be at brunch with foreign dignitaries.”
She let out an airy chuckle. “His grace is far more concerned with himself than with us. He will hardly notice our absence.”
“The tabloids might,” Noctis countered, one of his hands skating up her back to toy with her hair. “And my dad’ll kill me if we end up on the front page of some gossip rag.”
Tapping at his lips with her fingers, Lunafreya hummed. “Prince and princess caught in shocking prenuptial tryst. How ignoble.”
His hands went to her waist, spinning them both, pinning her against the rows of books. “Tryst, huh?” Noctis grinned wide. “Is that what we’re calling this?”
She pressed her mouth into a line, the corners ticking upwards in amusement. “And what would you call it, Prince Noctis?”
His gaze went soft, one hand rising to gently caress her cheek. “Being in love?” he offered, his voice barely a breath.
The way she looked up at him was so warm, bringing both of her hands to cradle his face. They came together in a kiss that was slow and tender, parting with a sigh and resting their foreheads together.
The library doors opened on the other side of the room with a loud clank. “Your highness?” Someone called.
“Shit,” Noctis muttered, pulling away from Lunafreya to fix his jacket. She did the same, smoothing down her dress, training her face to a neutral expression. Noctis reached out to brush a lock of her hair from her cheek, letting his fingertips linger for just a moment before dropping his arm and straightening his back.
“Your highness,” someone said breathlessly, though Regis couldn’t see who from where he stood behind a tall shelf. “Duke Fluvos awaits you in the southern parlor.”
“My apologies,” Lunafreya spoke, her tone once again impossibly formal as she gave a bow. “I wished to see the library, and asked Prince Noctis to escort me.”
As they stepped out of view, Regis caught a glimpse of his son’s face, guarded and disinterested, the very countenance he’d worn since her arrival. The sound of their shoes clicking against the marble floor faded away, until the library door closed once again.
The king smiled to himself, turning to see Clarus clearly holding back laughter. “It seems,” Regis said wryly, “My fears were unfounded.”
When his shield let out a snicker, Regis joined in, his chest feeling light.