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Megumi doesn’t love Yuuji.
Even as they stand at the altar, his heart beating rapidly in his chest under Yuuji’s honey gaze, Megumi feels nothing for the man. No amount of hesitant smiles, well-meaning vows or cute furrowed expressions could get Megumi to love the prince. He doesn’t know the first thing about him, so how can he?
“I do,” are words that feel like ashes, coating his tongue with the bitter taste of decay. With two words, he throws away any freedom he has left. There wasn’t much to begin with; he was bought and paid for, after all.
“I do,” Yuuji echoes back to him. The prince’s face looks pale as he says it, as though he feels like a prisoner to their marriage as well.
Maybe he is. They’re both bound to one another without choice. Other than a brief meeting at the age of thirteen, they are complete strangers fulfilling a contractual obligation. Strictly business and politics.
Megumi can almost imagine a set of iron bars between them as Yuuji leans in to seal their fates with a polite kiss.
The rest of the ceremony and reception feel like an out-of-body experience. He doesn’t try to commit the food, the cake, the cheers or dancing to memory. Each minute that ticks on is spent dreading what the rest of the night will be. What would the prince expect when they approached their marital bed? Megumi doesn’t know what to anticipate because, again, he doesn’t know Yuuji whatsoever.
They were supposed to court properly but political affiliations and impending conflicts forced their houses to be brought together by their monumental matrimony. He wishes they had been afforded more time, to court and to get to know one another, but more than anything… Megumi wants to jump out of a window to escape his marriage.
The King and Queen begin a dance for all to gawk at, and it’s at that moment his husband whispers in his ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
While it’s their predicament that Megumi wants to run away from, and preferably alone, he stiffly nods and allows Yuuji to pull him away from their wedding by hand. They slip out the back, into the palace gardens, and his senses are greeted warmly by the brisk evening air and sweetness of roses. The cusp of twilight kisses the horizon, giving the groomed hedges a golden aura.
Yuuji is glowing in the same light, emphasizing his bronzed skin and darkening his soft pink hair. Were this a fairytale, Megumi would admittedly be enchanted. A handsome prince, all to himself, in a romantic rose garden beautifully framed by sunset should be a dream.
However, he was paid to be here. Megumi’s father happily shipped him off in favour of a handsome dowry.
It isn’t a dream. It feels like a nightmare.
“I, uh… I feel like I haven’t even properly introduced myself,” Yuuji says with an uncomfortable laugh. A daunting weight that Yuuji’s shoulders have been carrying finally slips away and a smile teases at his lips. Megumi expects the man to bow and read off his full appropriate title but, instead, he extends a gloved hand to shake his. “I’m Yuuji.”
Yuuji still radiates nervous energy, making Megumi’s stomach churn with similar discomfort. Neither of them is confident in what this relationship might be, it seems. Despite their awkward situation, Megumi accepts the handshake, nodding rigidly. “Megumi.”
“Where would you rather be right now?” Yuuji asks the question casually as he walks away, beginning to wander into the maze of bushes.
“What?” Megumi tilts his head and pinches his brows together, following instinctively.
Yuuji’s amber eyes drift up to the stars beginning to appear in the evening sky as he continues to wander. At that moment, Megumi notices how youthful the prince appears, like a curious boy who asks anything and everything without fear.
“You obviously don’t want to be here, I can see it written on your face. So, where would you rather be right now?”
“Home.” He’s blunt. Megumi has never been one for beating around the bush, and he certainly won’t sugarcoat for his new husband either. “I would rather be at home, alone in my room and reading my favourite books.”
“What do you like to read?”
“Everything, to be honest, but I tend to favour history, philosophy, or science.”
It appears as though Yuuji knows this maze like the back of his hand because they don’t run into a single dead end. He guides Megumi to the centre where a stone fountain, blessed with intricate carvings of mermaids and fish, calls home. Yuuji sits on the edge of the fountain, paying no mind to the rich garment he’s dressed in, and pats the space beside him.
“Why are you so interested in what I like?” Megumi’s tone sounds bitter and, in truth, he is. Sitting next to his husband, he feels the mist from the fountain caress the nape of his neck where the short hairs stand on end. He’s uncertain if it’s the chilling night air or the amounting anxiety causing his physiological reaction.
“I feel like I should try to get to know you a little bit since we’re, uh, married?” A dusting of pink touches Yuuji’s cheeks when he says the m-word. It’s almost cute how bashful the prince is, making Megumi question even further what to expect in their marital bed if he’s this coy.
“I suppose that’s a good idea,” he huffs out a laugh, fidgeting with his hands. “Where would you rather be right now?”
“I think by the lake, on a blanket and laying under the sun. I would eat my lunch and feed the ducks some too,” Yuuji says thoughtfully, staring off into space as though he is mentally there in the moment. “I like being alone, actually. It’s a nice getaway from the expectations of royalty.”
The sincere comment catches Megumi off guard, filling him with a newfound understanding of the other man. “There’s nobody to disappoint when you’re alone.”
Yuuji’s eyes appear glassy, murky with emotion as he quietly replies, “Exactly.”
They sit and don’t speak for several minutes. There are no disturbances. Their only companions are the soothing babbling of the fountain, shining constellations, and the rosy scent of the gardens.
For the first time since Megumi arrived at the castle to wed his prince, he feels comfortable, even in their silence.
“I want to do this properly,” Yuuji says, speaking over the crickets heard throughout the evening atmosphere. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we have to act as though we are. I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly ready to… consummate our marriage.”
“Thank God,” Megumi sighs with relief, allowing his shoulders to relax as if he’s letting go of a tonne of bricks. He lets out a dry laugh and buries his face in his hands. “No offence, but I was dreading tonight. I’m not ready.”
“None taken, I’m not ready either. I want to take this one step at a time.” Silently, Yuuji offers his hand again, not to shake but to hold. Megumi carefully considers whether he should take it or not, torn between the resentment that had been building and Yuuji’s sweet disposition.
He chooses to take Yuuji’s hand and his husband squeezes him tightly
“I’d like to see the lake sometime,” he confesses quietly, feeling a new sensation stir in the pit of his stomach. It feels like acceptance out of grief; he will likely never see his own favourite places to be alone ever again, but maybe he could find comfort in Yuuji’s.
“As soon as we have a chance, I’ll take you.” The promise is more valuable to Megumi than their marriage vows were. He hadn’t felt a single twitch of joy at the altar, but his heart flutters with excitement at the thought of watching Yuuji feed a flock of ducks on a lovely summer’s day.
“I’d like that.”
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
It’s Megumi’s turn to flush as he shyly turns his head away from Yuuji, trying to pretend that a little bit of flattery can’t leave him so flustered. “You look beautiful as well.”
“Thanks,” Yuuji beams, as though Megumi has given him the highest compliment he’s ever been paid. The prince’s eyes are suddenly alight with an idea, prompting him to stand and march towards the bushes.
Megumi tilts his head and watches Yuuji reach toward one of the dozens of red roses. Recklessly, his husband dives into the manicured bushes, trying to pluck one of the blooms by the stem. Yuuji jumps and retracts his hand when he pricks himself on a thorn, hissing in pain as he shakes off the wound.
A soft laugh escapes Megumi’s mouth, surprising even him, and a pink blush settles on both of their cheeks. There’s something endearing about witnessing a prince, next in line to be king, fumble clumsily in the bushes for a flower.
With a new sense of determination, fuelled by his former failure, Yuuji carefully reaches into the foliage to break one of the stems. When he finally retrieves the rose, Yuuji approaches Megumi once again, kneeling on one knee in front of him.
“When I read my vows, I was just repeating what I was told, and I’m sure you were too. So, I want to make a proper vow to you.” A nervous smile graces the prince’s lips as he presents the rose to Megumi. It’s a pretty thing, the colour of rubies or freshly spilled blood, and he thinks it may be a perfect metaphor for their marriage. Their matrimony is perfect from an outsider’s perspective, but their fragile bond could easily wither and die without proper care.
Delicately taking hold of the stem, Megumi accepts the rose and is careful not to ruffle the silky petals. He realizes then that if this is going to work, he needs to at least give Yuuji a chance. “And what is this new vow you are proposing?”
“With this rose, I make this promise to you,” Yuuji speaks softly, extending his hand to cradle Megumi’s with tenderness. “Even if we don’t fall in love, I will always take care of you. I will be kind to you. I will respect you. I will protect you. I will even make sure you have all the books and alone time you could ever want.”
Megumi interrupts Yuuji’s speech to snort with amusement. “Do you think I could bail on the rest of our wedding to do just that?”
“As soon as it’s over you can do just that, promise.” The corners of Yuuji’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, shining as bright as the morning sun. Megumi feels warm and comforted by that smile, as though it actually were the sun. It surprises him because he has been haunted by nausea for hours, but now it’s forgotten in Yuuji’s radiant presence. “I’m not expecting anything of you, but I hope we can at least be friends.”
“I think we can be friends,” Megumi whispers as he gazes down at their joined hands, feeling his long lashes kiss his cheeks. “I don’t know you, but I will try to get to know you. I promise to give you the same care, kindness and respect.”
“Thank you, Megumi.” Gingerly, Yuuji presses a kiss to Megumi’s knuckles. The soft brush of chapped lips encourages a deeper blush to colour his face, feeling himself get swept up in the fantasy of what could be.
Maybe they could have something here after all.
“I think we should get back before they send a search party,” Yuuji says gently, his voice soothing like milk and honey.
Megumi has been in agony over their arrangement. He had journeyed down the aisle as though he were attending his own funeral, mourning the life he could have had were it not for politics. Amongst all the melancholy he’d failed to notice how genuinely charming and sweet Yuuji was.
Silently, Megumi stands and helps Yuuji to his feet, continuing to clasp his hand. “I have no idea how to get back, so I hope you do.”
“I’ll figure it out. It was just dumb luck and muscle memory that got us here in the first place,” Yuuji says and laughs amiably, prompting Megumi’s heart to swell with what might be adoration.
As his prince leads them through the maze of rose bushes, Megumi holds the delicate bloom to his chest. He dips his head a few times to take in its sweet, earthy scent, finding solace in the simple gift—a gift that holds so many promises for their future.
Megumi doesn’t love Yuuji, but perhaps he will.