Chapter Text
“Your highness, you shouldn’t be here.” Liese’s voice is gentle despite the reprimand, barely-veiled amusement clear in her tone. “Who’s supposed to be looking after you right now?”
A bright laugh, and a flash of brown hair beyond Liese’s side. “Me!”
Liese hums good-naturedly. “We both know you’re not supposed to be alone, or digging up the garden.”
“But I need flowers – hey, who’s that?”
Yubel hides behind Liese again and screws their eyes shut, but it’s already too late. They’ve been spotted. Opening their eyes and summoning their courage, they peek out from behind their sister’s legs to find the young prince standing directly in front of them, their faces inches from each other.
“Ahhhh!” They stumble back, Liese’s firm hand catching them before they fall over entirely. Prince Judai backs up quickly himself, nearly dropping the bunch of flowers gathered in his palm as he did.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, um–” The prince grins at them sheepishly. “What’s your name?”
Yubel feels their face go hot at the attention. “Yu…it’s Yubel. And this is my sister Liese.” They squeeze against Liese’s side, resisting the urge to bury their face in her uniform, and pride spurs them to keep talking. “She just became a knight last year. One day I'm going to be like her!”
Liese ruffles their hair. Standing tall and elegant in what’s clearly the standard knight’s uniform, teal hair braided neatly around her head and ornamental ruby fixed perfectly in place on her forehead, Liese is the perfect picture of a knight to Yubel’s seven-year-old eyes. Her sword is secured neatly at her side opposite Yubel, though of course Liese has no need for it right now.
The prince bows jerkily to her. "It’s good to meet you both,” he says stiffly, with the cadence of something long practiced. Then his formal veneer breaks, and he looks up at Liese pleadingly. “Please, I just need a few more flowers! It’s for Mother.”
“...Ah.” Liese’s voice is quiet. The queen’s illness is well-known these days, after months of rumor. Still pressed against Liese’s side, Yubel feels their sister tense. Then, much more visibly, Liese sighs. “Two more, your highness. Then I’ll take you inside.”
“Okay.” The prince bows again, then hurries off for a different section of the garden. Yubel watches him go, and after a second tugs on their sister’s hand.
Liese doesn’t turn towards them, her eyes fixed on the prince already kneeling in the soil next to a batch of flowers, but Yubel knows she’s listening. “Can I go with him?”
That seems to surprise Liese, her eyes flickering to Yubel before returning to Prince Judai. “Go ahead. I can keep an eye on both of you that way.”
Yubel separates themself from their sister and approaches the prince slowly. He’s already decided on a hyacinth to add to his fistful of flowers and is inspecting the tulips, glancing back and forth between hand and flowerbed.
They squat down next to him when he still hasn’t chosen after a minute. The prince’s nose is scrunched up in concentration, his eyes now lingering on the bright rows of tulips. “What are you looking for?”
The prince glances up at them before staring at one particular flower like it’s posed him a riddle. “I don’t know which to use.”
“You don’t have to add one if you don’t want to.” Yubel reaches out a hand to brush gently against the stem of one tulip. “I’m sure your moth–um, I’m sure the queen will like your gift anyway.”
Prince Judai, sole heir to the Ruby Kingdom…pouts. “Your sister said two! I only have one.”
Really? Yubel makes a face: what a silly point to get stuck on. The prince is a year or two younger than them, of course, but surely he knows better than this. “One should be fine, too.”
The prince ignores them. “It has to…” He looks at Yubel quizzically, and reaches for an orange tulip. “Oh.”
“Hm?”
And that‘s when he reaches over and tucks the flower behind their right ear.
“H-hey!” Yubel makes to stand up, but overbalances again and falls backwards for the second time that day. This time without Liese there to catch them Yubel lands right on their butt, legs flailing in the air before they shift their weight to sit upright. “Ow-ow-ow…”
The prince shifts nervously from his position in the dirt. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Yubel groans. “But you should have asked!” They touch a finger to the flower behind their ear, still in place despite their tumble, and the prince looks contrite.
“Sorry. Do you want me to…?” He reaches out a hand again, although this time he stops short of touching anything.
Yubel fingers the tulip’s stem again before taking their hand away. “...No, I’ll keep it. I don’t want it to go to waste.”
The prince beams. “Well, good! You look pretty.”
“”No, I–” But something stops Yubel from arguing the point. “...Do you think so?”
“Yeah.”
They feel hot for a second before shaking their head. “Come on, let’s go back to Liese now. She’s waiting.”
Ever the perfect knight, Liese is professional and deferential even as she firmly escorts the prince towards the throne room to find someone better equipped to look after the wayward prince. She handles the resulting questions with a grace Yubel wishes they had a fraction of.
"Yubel hopes to join the knights someday too," she explains to a frazzled attendant as Yubel resists the urge to hide behind her again. "I thought my patrol might be a good opportunity for them to see the kind of work I do on the regular. Of course we didn't expect to bump into his highness, but they got along very well."
Very well isn’t quite how Yubel would have described it, but Liese is covering for their ulterior motives in admiring the castle garden as well as watching their sister at work. She can say what she wants.
The prince seems to agree with their sister though, judging by the way he chatters to his attendant. He clutches his gathered flowers close to his chest with one hand as he's led away, waving enthusiastically at the siblings with the other.
“Bye Yubel! Bye Liese! I’ll see you again, right?”
Liese salutes. Yubel mimics the gesture clumsily.
The prince is still waving as he disappears through a door. Liese signals for Yubel to follow her out to resume her daily rounds, and as they slip behind her they touch a hand to the tulip still in their hair.
Maybe they wouldn’t mind seeing the prince again, actually.
Two Years Later
Yubel is nine-almost-ten to Judai’s eight, and all too aware that the difference means nothing because at nine years old they know nothing. Nothing that matters, at least.
Certainly not when it comes to grief.
Judai meets them at the entrance to the palace garden as he requested, holding out an orange tulip very much like the one he’d given them almost exactly two years ago when they first met. “Here,” he says with false cheer. “I still think you look good with it.”
If it were anyone else, Yubel would ignore the gift. They’re tempted to ignore it anyway, after Judai’s spent the majority of the week avoiding them. Because they both already feel awful, though, Yubel takes the tulip as a peace offering.
(They do like how the bright color contrasts with their hair, they think vaguely. But today they’re not feeling like the kind of person to wear a flower. And besides, the reminder of how they met just drives home the point that Liese isn't here.)
Judai grabs their wrist, leading Yubel to the nearest bench. He sits down and gestures for them to do the same. They follow suit but keep their eyes on the tulip, memorizing the bold fiery shades and the smooth edges of every petal.
“I think it matches your hair,” Judai says, too-bright and too-loud. He’s kicking his legs with too much force to be truly natural. “You know, I hear that there’s a caravan that came up to the castle a few days ago with a lot of books from other countries. We could go check that out. Maybe they’ve got something interesting. I know you like plants of all kinds, not just flowers, and I bet–”
“Stop.” Yubel’s grip tightens on the tulip’s stem, eyes still fixed on the flower.
Judai only misses a beat. “You don’t want to? That’s okay. Maybe we could go look at some other books. I’m sure your father might be interested in seeing what’s there, if he hasn’t already.”
“Please. Don’t.” They finally look up, and Judai still has that halfhearted smile on his face as he watches them. “Don’t…talk like that.”
Judai’s smile freezes. “Like what?”
“Like you’re going to make everything better.”
"Shouldn't I try to make you feel better? Isn't that what friends do?" His eyes are wide, but they’re wary rather than innocent. His voice wavers, and Yubel can hear the edge of desperation there.
"Judai.” They give him a hard stare. “I didn't come see you for you to make me feel better. I’m still mad at you for ignoring me, actually. I came because you're the only other one outside my family who gets it."
Judai's smile falters entirely at the reminder of his mother's situation, and he bows his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything about that.”
It’s still a secret from most of the kingdom that the queen has been on her deathbed for the last week from a disease of the organs. Yubel only knows because Judai had found them in the library just an hour after he’d learned the fact himself, wandering in and dully informing them his mother was officially dying before wandering back out.
He’d avoided all of Yubel’s attempts to see or find him after that, until today when word came that Liese had been severely wounded while investigating a string of thefts in town. She’s been in the doctors’ care since this morning, with no news as of yet.
Now here they both are, sitting together in the garden where Liese once overlooked their first meeting. Yubel twirls the tulip in their fingers, watching the petals spin in a circle.
“I won’t tell anyone, you know. I know how to keep a secret.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Judai doesn’t move his head. “I shouldn’t have made you worry. Especially not now that Liese is hurt.”
Yubel scoffs, despite themself. “Were you going to lie to me?”
“No, but I should…” He falters.
“You should what?”
“I…” His voice is so soft, it takes a moment for Yubel to realize he’s spoken at all. Then he doesn’t say anything more.
“You what?” When Judai doesn’t respond Yubel looks closer and realizes that he’s trembling, gripping his knees with shaking fists. They slide off the bench, leaving the tulip on their seat, and squat down in front of him to look at his face. Judai’s eyes are screwed shut, and there’s wetness on his cheeks.
Tentatively - they don’t know what to do, how to approach people like this - Yubel lays a hand over his. That finally gets him to look up, though his gaze isn’t fully on them.
“I need to be the one looking after everyone,” he says finally. “That’s the last thing Mother asked me. To be a prince who takes care of his people. But I can’t help her, or you, or Liese. I’m just watching them…you…”
Oh.
Yubel considers for a moment, and then stands up to gently tap the knuckles of two fingers against Judai’s temple. “Idiot.”
The insult does its job. Judai glares up at them through his tears. “I know I am, okay?”
Yubel rolls their eyes. “Not like that. I mean you shouldn’t be feeling that kind of responsibility. You’re not supposed to take care of people right now. You’re practically a baby.”
Judai is still glaring, though there’s a bit more petulance to it now. “I’m only two years younger than you.”
“Yeah, and all my brothers and sisters still treat me like a baby. So if I’m one, you definitely are.” Yubel folds their arms matter-of-factly, with all the gravity a long-suffering youngest sibling of five can muster. "And babies don't take care of other people. Everyone else takes care of them."
Judai's still gripping his knees, the skin underneath his fingers white. "I'm the prince. One day I'll rule this kingdom. I'm not someone people should have to take care of."
"That’s why we need to take care of you, dummy." Yubel heaves a sigh, perhaps a bit more dramatic than they need to be. "You won't get to grow up and be king all by yourself. Or you'd be a really bad king. One who ignores their best friend for days and then expects them to act like nothing happened because you gave them a flower."
Judai's grip loosens. "...Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that."
"Make it up to me by coming to visit Liese." Yubel tugs at his hand, stubbornness and the need to look after Judai filling in for actual confidence in the future. "When she wakes up she's going to treat me like a baby. And I'm going to let her. Because she's my big sister, and hurt, and it'll make her happy."
Judai is silent as he allows Yubel to pull him up to standing. “Okay,” he says after a long moment. “When she wakes up.” His grip on their hand tightens, and he tilts his head up to meet Yubel’s gaze with his own, eyes wide and shiny from unshed tears.
He needs an anchor in his grief. Yubel doesn’t know how to be that anchor, but they’re going to do it anyway. Judai deserves nothing less.
Yubel reaches out their free hand to brush away the moistness in his eyes. Judai lets them, eyes still locked on Yubel like they’re the only thing in existence. They stand up to their full height and move closer to Judai, as if to shield him from the rest of the world.
Eventually Yubel will tug Judai away and back into the castle. Eventually Liese will wake up and dote on her youngest sibling and their royal best friend exactly as predicted, and the two of them will let her. Eventually the queen will officially pass on, and Yubel will make extra sure to be by Judai’s side for the weeks that follow.
But for now they just stand there in the garden huddled against the bright afternoon sun, two souls united by inexperience and heartache.
Twenty-Three Months Later
“When I grow up and take my father’s place, I’m going to protect everyone in the Ruby Kingdom. No, all the world.” Judai speaks the words with solemn bravado, looking out at the kingdom sprawled out in front of the mountain. The wind whips stray hair in his face.
Yubel might be impressed if the whole thing weren’t so alarming. “I think you’re letting your age get to your head.” Prince Judai’s tenth birthday yesterday had been celebrated quietly, but warmly. Yubel isn’t foolish enough to think the simple act of turning ten is enough to prompt a change like this, but it could very well be a clue to the real cause.
“It’s not–” Judai’s eyes widen as he cuts himself off and turns away from Yubel at his side. “...Uh, yeah. Maybe.”
Yubel tenses, because now they know for sure that something is going on. Judai is a terrible liar, really. They give him a flat look. “You’re keeping something from me.”
And to his credit, Judai sighs and turns back around to meet their eyes. “Yeah. I am.”
Judai hasn’t tried to hide anything bigger than a quick prank from Yubel since losing his mother. Yubel straightens instinctively: something is wrong. “What is it?”
Judai averts his eyes again, scowling at a tree on a level of the castle below them. “Father said I can’t tell you yet.” He grits his teeth. “He said…there will be a right time, soon but not now.”
Yubel has barely enough time to process the fact that Judai’s acting strangely because of a secret big enough for the king’s intervention before Judai’s eyes narrow in precisely the way they do before he jumps directly into a rash decision.
“...But you deserve to–”
“No.” Yubel elbows Judai, just hard enough to make him stop talking. They set their jaw and level a serious frown at Judai as he glares at them. “At least, think about if you really want to do this right now.”
“I do.” Judai puffs himself up with a pout, but it’s more bluster than real conviction. “I can’t…not tell you.”
Yubel touches a finger to the edge of the spangle on their forehead. Judai’s eyes follow the gesture, although they’re not entirely sure whether or not he’s paid his religious studies enough attention to understand the meaning behind the blue spinel.
“I don’t need to know everything to know you.” Yubel means it as a tease towards their friend, but the lilt that would signal the joke falls flat and the whole thing comes out more sincere than they thought. “Don’t get in trouble with the king over this. Just tell me what you’re thinking, because of whatever it is I’m not allowed to know.”
Judai gapes at them. He opens his mouth only to let out a wordless syllable and give up. Tries a second time, then falls quiet for a moment. “...I think becoming a king is going to be even harder than I thought.”
It’s a statement that could mean many things. Yubel considers the options. Doubt? No, Judai would mask that with false cheer and genuine stubbornness. It’s not fear, either, because that makes him freeze up entirely. And he’s far too subdued for petty frustration.
Whatever he’s feeling now, he wants to tell Yubel against the king’s warning. He thinks it’s something they deserve to know. It’s not directly about them, because if it was then Judai would have already disobeyed and told them up front. The subject is something Yubel will learn eventually, at the “right” time, but not yet. And from the sounds of it the king means Yubel specifically by that, whether as Judai’s best friend or as a future knight of the realm.
And of course the timing surely isn’t a coincidence. Yubel had been with Judai as late as his birthday supper yesterday evening, trying very hard to restrain their gluttony for olives in the king’s presence, so whatever had happened to prompt this mood had likely happened either later that night after they left or earlier today.
Last night, they decide. Judai hasn’t slept well: tension and some unknown agitation don’t completely hide a slight lethargy to his posture.
Yubel closes their eyes for a moment as they put everything together, aware of Judai’s gaze on them even so. “You learned something last night after I left,” they guess. “A responsibility you’ll have as king that you didn’t know about, or that you didn’t think about before. A secret about the royal family, maybe. Something that made you think, and you want to talk about it even though you can’t. Now you’re wondering about the kind of king you’ll be, and about what the queen…” They falter, but the two of them both know how that sentence ends.
“...Ha.” Judai technically gives them a smile, but it’s pure muscle movement and no heart. “You’re still smarter than me, Yubel. I’m going to have to work really hard to keep up with you. You got most of that right. Not the secret, but that’s okay.”
Bringing up the queen was a mistake. Judai isn’t meeting their eyes anymore, instead looking far off into the sky. Yubel feels like they’re losing him all of a sudden, and they refuse to let that happen.
“Did I ever tell you how I chose my third eye?”
That gets his interest. Judai turns back towards Yubel, attention squarely on them and the spinel gem fixed above their own eyes. “No. You just laughed at me when I asked what it meant.”
Yeah, Yubel does remember that actually. It had been funny at the time - to them, if not to Judai. “Choosing your third eye is about understanding yourself and the kind of wisdom you seek in life. I was thinking about what kind of knight I’ll be, since I start my training this summer…”
Judai’s listening rapt now. Yubel continues talking, shoulders easing now that they know he isn’t pulling away. “When we first met, I wanted to be just like Liese. Her third eye is ruby, of course. Not for the kingdom like most people think, but because ruby means you want to live a virtuous life. It’s perfect for her.”
“But not for you.” Judai draws the obvious conclusion, and they both understand that it’s not meant as an insult to Yubel’s character.
Yubel smiles ruefully, gesturing to their third eye. “Spinel is the symbol of vigilance. When I really, really thought about it…I don’t want to go out there and lead like Liese does. I’m no good at that. But I am pretty good at observing people. And you know how I figured that out?”
Judai humors them with a faint smile. “Oh my humble knight, how did you know?”
He’s teasing of course, but something about that address makes Yubel shiver inside. But they’ve got to give as much as they get right now. Yubel breaks out a mischievous grin for the punchline. “Well, you heard me figure you out just now. After four years, I’m the world’s biggest expert on Judai behavior.”
“I – you’re not…” Judai sputters in outrage, but clearly can’t find an actual rebuttal to their boast. Yubel loops an arm around his shoulder with a smirk.
“Don’t worry, I only use it for the greater good.” They gently lean their side towards him, a sort of full-body nudge. “I can’t be a virtuous knight who leads and inspires others like my sister. I’m not that kind of person. But I can be a watchful knight who understands people and protects them.”
People like you, they don’t say. That ought to be obvious.
Especially you, they think and also don’t say. That should also be obvious, but it also feels too big to say out loud right now.
Judai’s stopped scowling by now, and pulls away to eye Yubel curiously. “How long did it take you to figure that out?”
“Months, to realize I wanted to be a different kind of knight than Liese is,” they admit. “That was the hard part. But once I accepted that, I knew what I wanted to be after just a couple days. After that, wearing my third eye felt like a declaration.”
“Can you tell me more?” Judai flushes with his request. “About the kinds of things third eyes can mean. Maybe I’ll figure something out that way too.”
Yubel can’t help the snicker that tumbles from their mouth. “Oh? You want me to teach you? Prince Judai, famous for falling asleep during lessons and annoying his tutors when he’s awake, wants to learn from me?”
”Yubel!”
In the scuffle that follows Yubel almost forgets about that feeling in their chest, the one that swells up whenever Judai’s attention is solely upon them. It’s an unnamed thing deep inside, that threatens to grow bigger and bigger and burst into something they tremble to imagine when they think of Judai and the future. They’d call it clarity, maybe, if they could see the final shape of it.
It’ll be something beautiful and wondrous in the end, Yubel is pretty sure. But they’re going to need time to see how it all flourishes, and right now there’s a silly prince in need of merciless tickling.