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The carriage Zhongli occupies sways and creaks as they travel over the cobbled steps leading up the palace. His recent travels to Mondstadt took longer than what was expected, and his departure from the nation was no speedier. At last, after a long week of traveling, Zhongli is able to return to his home and relax. He settles into the plush cushions of the carriage wagon, the many layers of his robe keeping him warm and cozy.
If only he could have a companion with him in here…
As if on cue, Zhongli hears a dull knock on the carriage door he is leaning against. Immediately, he straightens up. It takes him little effort to lift the curtains and see Sir Tartaglia, senior captain of the knights, trotting beside him on his own horse.
“Your majesty,” Tartaglia greets once the window is opened. His smile is bright and sunny, contrary to the dreary weather they have been having as of late. “Still doing well?”
Zhongli takes in the sight of of the captain, a welcome vision in contrast to the monotonous velvet of the carriage’s walls. Sir Tartaglia is very… fit. That much is apparent even under all of his uniform. The strength of his legs are displayed in the way he handles his horse, refined and sophisticated as he keeps the horse’s pace steady beside Zhongli.
Sir Tartaglia always carries himself in a way that others may find haughty, if one did not know him. As one deeply acquainted with the captain, Zhongli knows that for all his pomp and arrogance, much of it is warranted. After all, he is the youngest to ever achieve his title as well as being widely considered one of the best combatists in Teyvat. It is no wonder that he strides with his head held high. Such a combination is dangerous when paired with his, admittedly, dashing looks as well. Zhongli does not share this opinion with others as easily as the rest of his praises for Tartaglia.
“Yes,” Zhongli finally replies. He doesn’t bother to hide his gaze, staring unabashedly into Sir Tartaglia’s eyes. “Only that I feel my attention escaping me.”
The knight gives a knowing smile before turning to face forward again. “Don’t worry, your majesty, we’ll be there soon.”
As promised by the young knight, their party arrives at the palace shortly. There is a procedure to be followed when the King returns to the palace, but Zhongli forgoes all of that in order to reach his bedchambers as quickly as possible. The usual entourage that accompanies him disperses at a wave of his command, all except one particular knight.
The king’s chambers are the largest suite in the palace, with three rooms all interconnected. On one side lies the baths, an ornately decorated room dressed in golden tiles and white marble. Across from the baths is the king’s bedroom, a sight that Zhongli has sorely missed in his travels away.
However, the most beautiful part of his chambers is the room they are currently standing in. This is the room Zhongli is most dearly acquainted with; his own personal library that may only be accessed by him. The palace itself has a library, but he has found it to feel too impersonal for what it is. While the official library is full of books accumulated over decades of Liyue’s monarchy, this one is entirely made from Zhongli’s own curation.
Seeing all this again—the cuihua bookshelves lining the walls, the satin upholstery, the grand windows—is a comfort second only to being alone with one’s beloved.
Zhongli makes his way over to a stack of books sitting on a nearby coffee table, running his finger through a fine layer of dust atop it. When he looks back, there is a small smile on his face as he looks up at his knight.
“Thank you for accompanying me on this trip,” he says, breaking the silence first.
The knight’s posture is rigid still, his shoulders pulled back and chest puffed out. “It is only my job, your majesty,” he says, words full of earnestness.
“We are in my quarters, Ajax,” Zhongli tells him, allowing his smile to widen. “You know there is no need for formalities.”
The moment he says his name, something in Ajax’s eyes soften. It isn’t a side of the knight that Zhongli sees so often, though he relishes it whenever treated to the sight. In the public eye, they can only ever be too careful with one another. They are forced to speak their love to each other in hints—in the softness of their shared gazes or in the gentleness of Ajax’s hands when he escorts his king. However, here in the confines of these walls, Zhongli is able to indulge in his lover.
Ajax reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind Zhongli’s ear. “I hope I am not being too forward then.”
Zhongli sighs at the feel of his hand on him, the rough callouses of his palm a contrast to the tenderness of his hold. “Never.”
With a grin, Ajax tilts his chin up and kisses him. He tastes as sweet as the ripe fruit they had for breakfast, and Zhongli drinks in the feel and taste of him with fervency. It has been days since they were last able to simply be in each other’s presence. Zhongli can feel Ajax’s desperation against his tongue—he feels it in the way Ajax grips him then, hands wrapped tight around Zhongli’s waist.
Zhongli’s own hands reach up, sliding past Ajax’s firm chest and wrapping his arms around his neck. With just a slight tug, he deepens the kiss, aching to press as close as he can to his lover. He feels the strength of Ajax’s body against his, all whipcord tight muscles and vigor, an intensity that draws Zhongli further in. This is what Zhongli craves most, to be able to laze in his lover’s arms for hours on end without a care for the world.
He feels Ajax’s hands begin to shift, lowering until—
A sharp knock on the door pulls them apart in an instant, and Zhongli’s hips throb from the sudden loss of pressure. They stare at each other, bewildered, the question of who could be at the door hanging in the air.
They don’t have to wonder for very long when they hear a voice coming through the door: “My king?”
Zhongli looks over at Ajax in alarm. “The bedroom, you must go now.”
Ajax obeys with no complaints. His movements are hasty as he rushes over to the king’s bed in a haste. Once he is out of sight, Zhongli strides over to open the door to reveal his advisor, Xiao.
“Your majesty,” the young man greets Zhongli. He gives the king a deep bow before straightening into a stiff posture. “I deeply apologize for disturbing you at this time, however an issue has come up regarding…”
His words trail off and Zhongli doesn’t dare breathe. He watches as Xiao gives the room a scrutinizing look, his nose scrunched up as though trying to sniff out the oddity in the room. It is silent as the seconds pass, the only sound in the room being Xiao’s exaggerated breathing as he scans around.
Zhongli clears his throat. “Is something the matter?”
“I heard reports of that dog being here. But I knew it would not be true,” Xiao confesses.
When he appears to be certain that there is no other presence in the king’s chambers, the expression on his face finally clears. Xiao’s voice changes to something kinder and refined, strikingly opposite to the harshness of his tone when speaking of the knight.
“As I was saying, I wanted to speak with you on an issue regarding the upcoming celebration of your birthday.” Xiao pulls out a small list from his breast pocket along with a quill. “The initial caterer for your birthday celebration next week is feeling unwell. Would you like me to speak with Chef Mao and his daughter?”
“You know I do not mind whatever you choose,” Zhongli answers in truth.
This celebration that is to be had is purely out of respect for the long-standing tradition held for the rulers of Liyue. If anything were up to him, he knows he would rather spend his time of celebration in a more intimate setting. His closest friends come to mind, but the true subject of his heart is Ajax.
Zhongli looks up to see Xiao furiously scribbling down sentences on the parchment he has on hand. With the fierceness of his strokes, Zhongli is not sure if he is simply writing down notes or writing a strongly worded letter. However, he isn’t writing fast enough, and Zhongli hopes that Xiao will leave soon.
When Ajax first arrived in Liyue, most of the members of the court disliked the foreigner. He was young then and even more arrogant than the present. While most of the court’s hostility dissolved after Ajax’s rise in the ranks, the animosity between him and Xiao never fully went away. If he were to discover Ajax’s presence now, it would end terribly for all involved.
“You should know by now that there is no need to refer to Sir Tartaglia as an animal,” Zhongli murmurs, unable to help himself.
Ajax does not need him to come to his defense. Zhongli knows this. But he cannot stop the words from leaving his lips, the same lips that still burn from the press of Ajax’s against his.
“He is just as much a part of this palace as you are.”
The scratch of Xiao’s pen tip comes to an abrupt halt at his words. His breathing turns labored and his next words come out slow and restrained.
“My king, I understand you have fondness for the boy.” The young man’s voice is but a tremor as he speaks. “But I am only being careful.”
At that, Zhongli is forced to pause and assess his next words. Explaining to Xiao that there is nothing to worry about is no simple feat, not without confessing the true nature of his relationship with the captain. There is no telling how Xiao may react to such news, what more the rest of the court.
Tentatively, Zhongli says, “We cannot point fingers when there is no spectacle.”
“I need to since you won’t,” Xiao insists. At Zhongli’s immediate sigh, Xiao continues in a quieter voice, “You don’t see the way he looks at you, your majesty… It is as though he wishes to devour you.”
Zhongli is hardly able to contain his snort in time.
Somehow, Xiao does not catch Zhongli’s aborted laughter and continues. “I apologize if I am out of turn, but we don’t know what the Tsaritsa’s intentions were in sending him to us. He is not a child of Liyue. I would not want to see the day he is torn between loyalty to his motherland or loyalty to you.”
Zhongli shakes his head. “There is nothing to worry about. I trust him.”
For a moment, Xiao stares at him with a blank expression. The two have had this conversation numerous times before, and it always ends in the same fashion. I trust him, are the words Xiao has become familiar with now. Even if he will never understand it, or even fully agree to it, Xiao knows when it is time to concede. With a bow, he thanks the king for his time and leaves the room in silence.
“Is that true?”
Zhongli whirls around to see Ajax stepping out from his bedchambers, an indiscernible expression on his face.
“Is what you said true?” Ajax repeats. He takes a step closer. “You really trust me?”
Zhongli’s gaze softens. “How can I not? When you have done everything to prove that you belong here with me.”
Whatever facade Ajax had on now shatters at his words. “Please believe me, Zhongli. I love you, I really do.”
Zhongli pulls him close with a smile. This, he knows. Even when he is unsure of all else, Zhongli believes Ajax. With his soul, his heart, he believes Ajax.
“I love you too,” he confesses in a breath. His hands are warm in Ajax’s grasp, and he melts at the affection in his eyes.
Ajax presses a kiss to his cheek then, chaste and bittersweet in its brevity. “I suppose I shouldn’t stay here any longer in the case Xiao returns.”
“Right,” Zhongli swallows against the stone lodged in his throat. “Of course.”
He isn’t sure how much more of this Ajax can take. The last year has been wonderful together, but the novelty of sneaking around loses its touch after a while. While it does not compare to the joy Zhongli feels simply being in Ajax’s presence, he cannot be sure that Ajax feels the same.
Just before Ajax fully steps away, he takes Zhongli’s hand into his own and asks, “Save me a dance, will you?”
Zhongli hides his confusion poorly, to which Ajax smiles at. “On the night of your birthday celebration. Save me a dance.”
“Ajax…” Zhongli sighs. “You know we cannot—” A laugh from the young man cuts his words off.
“My beloved, it will be our own private dance,” he explains. He brings Zhongli’s hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
“Oh,” Zhongli squeaks, his cheeks warming at the double entendre.
Ajax winks at him. “I will see you around, my king.” With that, he leaves his king with one last kiss, his promise lingering on Zhongli’s lips long after he is gone.