Chapter Text
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ The soft yet subtle illuminance of the sun peered through the crevices of mountains and highlands alike. It was a rarity for the people of Khaenri'ah to be graced and to be bathed in the aureate luminosity the gilded star had provided, but it was always moments like these that the citizens took advantage of. Hidden away and subjugated to being a nation that inhabited the undergrounds, it lacked the required fauna to be considered a land worth advancing. To others, it was a minuscule region made by humans that would reach its own demise, becoming yet another forgotten land in the history books. To them, it was home. Under the guise of a failing community, ruled various kingdoms within Khaenri'ah, all harboring its own uniqueness to it. Highly skilled in numerous technological advancements, the nation itself was thriving. Living a lavish life with no god to aid them. As if they needed a god - the citizens viewed themselves as their own god. If the gods and archons above refused to hear their pleas, they would become gods themselves.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ The serenity the sun had offered was beginning to diminish quickly. No longer was their kingdom veiled in the beauty of aurum, instead, the usual darkened ambience steadily returned, steps retreating back into the comfort of their homes. All but two. A boy clutched tightly onto the ivory, porcelain railing, peering at the retreating sun and then down at the people. It was a rarity for the child to witness the outside world, claiming he was far too young to explore. At the time, he was only five years old. The first born of the Alberich family, a prince. A hand rested atop his shoulder, heavy and cold. The boy never was used to such a feeling, and a bit of him desired the warmth and affection he had always seen from other familial bonds that caught his attention whenever he snuck out. The hand remained, serving as metaphorical shackles meant to imprison him in place. Slowly, his hands dropped down, visage reveling in its usual stoic expression. A squeeze ; flat and empty.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "This is home, Kaeya." appellations lingered within the tense atmosphere, hand smoothing over the blazer that adorned Kaeya's physique, until it was no longer ruffled. An image fit for a prince, one that made the Alberich much more favorable in terms of representation, "And soon, this kingdom will be yours. The people will be yours, the entirety of Khaenri'ah will be yours."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Does it have to be mine?" innocence laced his tone, one periwinkle shining with insatiable curiosity while the other eye - doused with a golden pantone - glimmered, akin to the fleeing sun made itself known as it peered through cerulean locks.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Displeasure. Kaeya was used to that look on his father's face, rather, he was almost certain that was the only expression he was capable of wearing. But he knew what it meant. It was only ever shone in private - when Kaeya spoke of nonsense, unbefitting of the ideals he had for his son. But the king chose not to respond, and the boy left it at that. At the age of five, he knew not to pry. He knew not to open his mouth. He knew to be the perfect prince, soon - to - be - king, as the others liked to put it. The soft rumble of his rugged voice chimed nonetheless, excusing his poor manners, " - always keep your eye uncovered, my son. It bears the essential for your survival."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ A simple nod. Brisk, yet stiff as his head lowered, bowing towards his father as the older man withdrew before beckoning the boy back inside, shielding him away from Khaenri'ah - the nation that was supposed to be his.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ At the age of five, Kaeya became a puppet.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Gold twined intricately within the pristine marble flooring, adorned with both scuff prints from ebony boots and dirt that was trekked inside. Soles of his shoes continued to echo along the broad hallway, accompanied with fits of giggles at the sound of maids frantically panicking over the mud and fleeing prince. Kaeya was thirteen years old. By now, he was growing stronger. He was growing smarter. Not from the courses he was forced to take, but he grew observant. Kaeya was no fool. He was aware of the secrets that began to crawl within the shadows, not by eye, but sound alone. The murmurs of the adults were something he looked forward to. Kept locked away in yet another part of his brain for safekeeping. At this age, they still perceived the prince as a child who knew nothing. Much like his mother. She was kind and she was beautiful. A rose's beauty paled in comparison. Penthia. His mother's name was Penthia, meaning flower. And it was fitting for a woman like her, and it was a rarity alone for a child to fit the name bestowed upon them from birth. She was simple. She was gold. She was a blessing.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Penthia was the only source of love Kaeya received.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ For a queen, she was able to traverse and help the citizens, she was given the opportunity to form a bond. She knew nothing of her true duties as a queen but Penthia couldn't stand being a trophy or be a person who only bears children for a king. She was aware of her self - worth, despite those treating her as a foolish, ditzy queen. Unlike most mothers in the royal family, she cherished Kaeya. She loved Kaeya as if he was her own life. But that was yet another added fault that those of royalty looked down on. Relatives, even staff members, were quick to scold and belittle her expressions of love. A prince should only ever receive tough love. A prince should never experience something so tender. A prince was supposed to be strong, not vulnerable. The way a prince presents himself would thus convey how the king was. And King Alberich was not a weak nor lovable man.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ King Alberich was a wise, yet harsh man. Cerulean locks that stopped at the nape of his neck - a clean cut- as a golden crown permanently adorned the top of his cranium. A faint stubble encased his slender, tanned visage, periwinkle hues that glimmered only briefly but exposed such empty eyes. It was a rarity for him to show any form of expression, other than his stone cold ones. And even if he smiled, it never quite reached his eyes. His voice - baritone and commanding, cold and firm. The queen was the complete opposite. Porcelain countenance, tanned until it reached an olive, unblemished tone with ivory locks that cascaded down until it reached the small of her back. Warm hazel eyes welcomed anyone into the kingdom, and a laugh akin to a lyre's strum as she spoke with so much kindness - it was suffocating. The only thing Kaeya got from his mother was the stray ivory lock embedded within the cerulean tresses. Had it not been for Penthia, all of Khaenri'ah would have been hesitant to accept their king willingly.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ But alas, a sickness plagued Khaenri'ah when Kaeya was seven. A plague so severe, it lasted for two years. Within those two years, he lost his mother. The king never bothered to remarry, and Kaeya was never granted another sibling to fill in his loneliness.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Steps ceased as the boy ran into something broad - a figure he knew far too well, "Father,"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Prince Ka - ..! A - Ah... King Alberich..! My apologies. It seems we've lost track of time. Night is nearing, we must've caused a ruckus! Oh dear... Fret not, we're getting the child into a bath and straight to bed. Again, I must a - "
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "The boy is at the age where his curiosity is insatiable and his energy is at its peak. Boys will be boys," a hollow laugh, breathing deeply as a gaze was settled upon the bowing prince covered in filth, "Raise your head, agoraki mou ( * my little boy )."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ And thus he did. Mismatched pantones of aurum and azure piercing into his father. Stoic, as usual. A common trait shared between the two. Fingers straightened his attire as his vertebrae straightened entirely, lips ghosted with its usual coyness, " - my apologies, father."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ A hand rose ceremoniously, a shake of his head accompanied, "At your age, I was expressing myself in the same way. Still, the sky is signaling that it is time to rest and you have classes to attend, do you not? Go on. Bathe and get some rest. As far as I'm aware, your sparring lessons start tomorrow," the hand dropped down, resting atop the cusp of Kaeya's cheek. Chilling. Empty. Contrasting his mother's touch entirely. But just like that, the touch was gone - as if it never happened in the first place. His father was never affectionate. He saw affection as yet another weakness - but that was no surprise. But those in Khaenri'ah, were not familiar with affection. Not openly at least. And at this moment, the maid was present, despite her gaze drifting elsewhere. Another hand was felt on his shoulder. But it was hers. Slowly, the prince was guided away, retreating back to the corridors, "... Goodnight, father."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Goodnight, Kaeya. Let us talk more tomorrow. Before you attend classes, we must speak of your coronation. It's years too early, but we must begin your search for a suitor after all."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ He froze. His heart stopped. And yet, he peered over his shoulder, smile not reaching his eyes, "But of course. I will keep that in mind." and he left with hurried steps.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ That night, Kaeya wept.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ The only time he ever cried was at night when he was alone and he knew he was never going to be checked on. The only one who knew he cried was his pillow and the moon that shined vibrantly through his window. Kaeya cried the stars, as his mother said. Each tear that drops, is yet another star that is finding its way back home. And again, it will return to your eyes, kamari mou ( * my pride ). A sentence that Kaeya often clung onto. He could only wish that he could become a star and return back home into the vast night sky and looked down towards his people. If he were a star, he would simply be coming home to himself. But he was stuck in this bitter reality, sobbing into the comfort of his feathered, satin pillow, weeping for a star to come and save him instead.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ The child's chest remained twisted, organ that sought out solace within his rib cage writhed with agony to be relinquished from the pain and torment that he was suffering through. Tears stained his visage as he rolled over, strands clinging onto his demure - breaths short as he tried to ease his poor heart. But it seemed like this was a night where he would be forced to remember his memories. It was nights like these that he longed for his mother's touch, longed for his mother to shelter him away.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Pads of her fingers stroked the bridge of his nose, eliciting a gentle giggle from her child. Her own smile widened. Her pride and joy laid within her arms, the soft hue of the candle flickering but shrouding them both in enough light to see each other. His golden orb twinkled - much like constellations that they would admire at night. Kaeya was her star after all. The star motifs she uttered, they all rang true. He was his star and she was the sky that sheltered him. Fingers combed through oceanic locks, allowing them to tangle between digits before lips pressed against his forehead, "Sleep now, astéria mou ( * my star )."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "I'm not tired," he feigned his consciousness, despite hues that threatened to draw to a close.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Your eyes are shutting, agoraki mou. Fret not, I will be here when you rise. You must sleep now - you will grow strong and healthy if you do. I can promise you that, my prince."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Will you always be here when I rise?"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Of course. I will be by your side through it all. I will be here as you are a prince and as you are a king," a pause as a smile adorned tiers, "I will be here when you find someone you cherish as well."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ By then, a frown fanned along his lips. He was aware of his own parents' circumstance. A marriage arranged by her coronation. A suitor picked for her. There was no love to begin with. No matter how much his mother claims she loves his father, he wonders if his father loves his mother. A marriage - rather - a life without love. Kaeya didn't want that. He wanted to be in love. He wanted to love and to be loved back. Still, his mouth parts, "Must I find someone?"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "No, but it's a welcomed notion nonetheless. Either way, I..." she wrapped her arms around his frame, bringing him close with playfulness embedded within sepia peripherals, " - just want you happy."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ That night, Kaeya swore that even if his father didn't love his mother, he would love her twice as much to make up for it. That night, he also swore he would find a love that he deserved. One that would make him the happiest he could be - one that would light up the darkness that festered from his life.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ But Kaeya, at age thirteen, gave up on trivial things like love.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Augh! Where is he?! It's been years - to think, that the prince would have learned by now!" Clara's voice sounded with agitation yet feebly - the same maid that's taken care of him for years on end. Surely, Kaeya felt pity on her. She dealt with all his antics and often saved him from disaster. And still, he chooses to give her a hard time, "When I get my hands on that child..!"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Boots padded against the floor quietly, careful of the creaks the wooden floorboards offered in this hallway. It was near the afternoon, Kaeya had finished the first set of his courses and has sword training in a few hours and yet here he was, tiptoeing around his own home. Tongue peeking from his lips as his gaze peered from around the corner. Clear. Again, he began to tiptoe but quickly halted upon hearing the hammering steps of his caretaker thrumming rhythmically, purposely toeing at the creaking planks. Slowly, Kaeya made his way towards one of the jarred doors, hand outstretched to grasp onto the golden knob of the ingress and quickly opening it wider just as Clara turned the corner. A soft thud from the door closing was heard as the prince's back was pressed against it, holding onto the knob with a deep sigh. Hues were shut, exhaling yet another breath before his eyes opened, startled by the figure in the room.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Well, well. Good afternoon, Florian," a lilt escaped from his tiers, teeth baring into a faux smile as fingers quickly occupied themselves with feigned interest, "May I help you with something?"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Never in your life have you ever offered your help, unless you were running from something." the older man rose one brow, scuffing the brushes used to comb the mane of the horses outside the open window.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ A grin. Then a tilt of his head, "I should be asking you why you're tending to the horses' accessories inside the palace."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ A roll of his eyes, banging the brushes rather aggressively, "I'm certain you're well aware of the reason, my prince."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Oh? Right, right. . . A certain Gloria has been chastising you again."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ " - shall we talk about why you're running away from Clara, or primarily, why you're running away from the preparations of your coronation?"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ A loud noise - akin to a grovel as Kaeya stomped over towards the window, swinging one of his legs out and seating himself. Florian and Kaeya's gazes met immediately, staring at one another, neither one of them wanting to back down. But alas, it was the prince. Brows creased, irritation evident. His prince persona faltered. It wasn't rare for both Florian and Clara to witness his childish tantrum. Granted, it made them feel relieved. A tormenting childhood and he has yet to lose his youth. Well, not entirely. Arms crossed, leaning back against the pane, "Coronation this, coronation that. It's futile, is it not? Father is still alive and quite frankly. . . still kicking! Healthy and the same as ever. A daring approach to solicit his son to the other nations to be wed despite making no move to bestow his crown to him."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "You're 20. You're overdue for a coronation. At the age of 18, it was to be expected that we throw you one in honor of you entering the adulthood and to be wed. Despite not being offered the crown just yet, it's an opportunity to find a suitor. And once you're titled king, you already have a partner by your side."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "And if I don't want to be wed, then what?" bitterness laced his tone as appellations dripped from his mouth, honeyed, yet annoyed, " - and if I don't want to be king either?" the words fell quickly, causing his eyes to widen. The older male grew silent before his lips parted. Quickly, Kaeya interjected, "It was a jest. Truly. Who wouldn't want to be the king of Khaenri'ah? I was trained to do this after all," his hands found purchased against the pane, both legs now swung out and using the trim as his seat. It was sudden but his fingers splayed and grasped onto the vinery.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Careful!"
⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ A forced laugh, allowing his frame to swing as he scaled the side of the palace, retreating quickly on a route that only he knew of, "Careful is my middle name. Rather, I have no middle name but you understand that, yeah? It was a nice talk, Florian, but it seems I do have coronation plans to tend to. Let's talk next time! I'll help with the horses!"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ By the time Kaeya made it back to his room, his fingers pried his windows open and wiggled his physique through the crack of it. Brushing his fitted attire of any dirt and leaves, he heard footsteps. A clear of his throat as he quickly grasped onto his book, seating himself in one of his chairs, leg crossed. Opening to a random page, his hues narrowed onto inked articulations as the door swung open.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "There you are, you troublesome child! Where were you..?!" Clara's voice wailed, exhaustion wreaking through her frame.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ He felt guilty and still, slender digits opted to close his book as he leaned forward with his trademark smile, head craned with innocence, "Hm? Ah.. Well... I've finished classes and came here to rest. Perhaps you missed me on the way, Clara. By all means, I'm not offended. But I am hurt you could miss your prince easily." annoyance was evident on her physiognomy and his smile only brightened as he set the book down onto his lap, "I'm assuming you're here for the coronation?"
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ She bit her bottom lip, a vain attempt at quelling her rising frustration. But she loves the child too much - much like her own child. A deep breath, "Yes. That's the only reason, my prince."
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Fingers soothed over his book absentmindedly before hues veiled shut with his oh - so charming smile, "Well? Let us begin."