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When Pandreo had woken this morning, he had steeled his nerves and grimly resolved to confess.
Not just confess, but Confess—the way one did in a church. Baring his soul for judgment.
He had been increasingly guilty of these feelings he harbored for Divine Dragon. Not the feelings of a devotee for his god, but something worse. Something very more intimate.
He wanted to… look. To admire. Even (and this was especially shameful) to touch. Nothing indecent, of course. When his thoughts strayed in that directly he squashed them immediately and ruthlessly. But to affectionately bump shoulders against the other man’s when they were walking together, to sling an arm around him and leave it there a while. To pull a stray petal out of his hair and see if it felt as silky as it looked.
There were not appropriately reverent feelings for a deity. These were more like the first fumbling crush he’d had as a teen, on another boy who’d gone to his church, a shy courtship that had culminated in a few awkward kisses.
It hadn't worked out.
And so, today, Pandreo had confessed, expecting disgust or disapproval or maybe, since Alear was so kind, just a sad expression of pity.
He hadn’t expected Alear to accept his feelings. He certainly hadn’t expected Alear to return them.
So here they were, staring uncertainly at each other, Pandreo feeling so light and fizzy he could almost float away. Alear took Pandreo’s hand in both of his (the one wearing the pact ring, and wasn’t that a thought!) and was marveling at it. Pandreo trembled at even this featherlight touch.
Alear chuckled, almost nervously. It was the most beautiful sound Pandreo had ever heard.
“Forgive me,” said his divine one, as if he could ever do anything that required forgiving. “I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing.”
“Me either,” said Pandreo, earnestly, words pouring out in a rush. After his first attempt at romance, he hadn’t tried again. He had kept his head down and been a dutiful son. And after his parents left, he had been in over his head, trying to take over their duties while scarcely an adult himself. Even once he’d found his footing, he keenly felt the weight of his station. He was the leader of his church, after all. So he drank, but never too much. He held parties, he laughed and danced, but he kept a professional distance from his congregants. The few times someone was interested in him—and he always saw it coming, the way the way they would start to lean into his space, the sudden weight in their gazes—he politely but firmly turned them down.
No hookups. No scandals. Just a priest whose first priority was his religion.
Now, he was very, very grateful. He had saved himself for his divine dragon, in whatever way Alear wanted him. Perhaps it would be no way. That would be fine too. Now that Alear was looking at him with those gentle eyes, a thought occurred to Pandreo: he would do anything Alear asked him to.
“Um, Divine One?”
Clanne had appeared around the corner, and was looking at them timidly.
Alear dropped their hands between them, but didn’t let go. He was still holding onto Pandreo’s hand, running a thumb over his knuckles. A thumb! Over his knuckles! Pandreo was about to combust. It took all his effort to stand there with what he hoped was a normal expression on his face.
Clanne didn’t seem to notice. His gaze had gone straight to Alear. “Vander wants to go over battle strategy with you,” he said.
“Of course,” said Alear. He gave Pandreo a warm smile that made the priest melt in his boots. “I’ll see you later?”
“Y-Yes, my—vine One. I mean, Divine One,” said Pandreo, whose mouth wasn’t really working anymore.
Alear left with Clanne, looking back over his shoulder to give Pandreo one last look, a knowing smile just between the two of them.
His god was going to be the death of him.
Pandreo started walking aimlessly, without a destination in mind. Abruptly he started laughing to himself, and once he found it hard to stop. He tilted back his head and howled at the sky, startling one of the poor Somniel chickens, which skittered off in a flutter of wings.
What a day. What a day! He had expected to be begging forgiveness, but instead he had been granted the most incredible blessing. It was more than he would have ever dared hope for.
How could he have ever expected such a thing? The universe really was unpredictable, his god most of all.
At some point (here he was really only half-aware of what he was doing) he found a bench and sat on it, staring mindlessly out over the edge of the Somniel at the sea of clouds. His mind was simultaneously full of nothing and everything, buzzing like a jar full of bees.
He had no idea how long he sat there.
“—hear me? Pandreo?”
Pandreo realized with a start that someone had been talking to him, and turned his head to see Fogado, looking at him with a furrow in his brow.
It was easy, natural, to go into retainer mode. “Oh, Fogado! My apologies. I was lost in thought.”
“No kidding,” said Fogado. His concerned expression hadn’t budged. “Are you okay? You were seriously spacing out.”
What was he supposed to say? Yes, my prince, I am more than okay, I have actually just been bestowed the greatest honor in my life, one I don’t feel I deserve but will do my best to one day feel worthy of —was he supposed to say that?
They hadn’t really… talked properly about their future yet. Alear had given him the ring. Alear had asked Pandreo to be his partner. Alear had said he wanted Pandreo at his side.
But did that mean they were courting? Were they betrothed? Alear had given him the ring, had put it on his left ring finger, but did that make it an engagement ring?
This sort of thing would require a formal announcement, wouldn’t it? The Divine Dragon, taking a partner—that was like a monarch taking a partner! They would need to announce it to everyone at some point, which meant Pandreo would be standing at Alear’s side, sweaty-palmed, as he told everyone that he had chosen a humble cleric to be his spouse, and everyone would look at him and wonder what in the world the Divine Dragon had seen in him, and he didn’t care if they judged him, if it meant getting to stand at his beloved’s side, but he would certainly take issue with them doubting Alear’s judgment, which was as immaculate as the rest of him. Stars above, Pandreo would really have to step it up, wouldn’t he? He would have to prove to the world that he deserved to be there, to not be an embarrassment to Alear.
Ah, he was spiraling.
“I’m fine,” said Pandreo, stretching his face into a smile.
Faking a smile was something he’d had plenty of practice at. Being a priest could weigh on one’s heart, after all. Day after day, he met with the members of his church, and they spoke to him about their prayers. Their desperate hopes. Their losses and pain and grief. And he could sometimes provide them advice, but other times he couldn’t. Sometimes all he could do was listen and do his best to provide some comfort. But he couldn’t let it get to him, because it wasn’t about him. When the next person came in, he had to suck it up and smile, and then see if he could do something to ease their burdens too.
“Apologies for worrying you,” Pandreo added.
“Don’t mention it,” said Fogado. But when Pandreo looked out over the Somniel’s sky, he could still feel Fogado’s gaze on the side of his face, searching for something.
—
The next day, Fogado and Bunet were sitting in a corner of the meal hall, speaking in hushed tones.
“Something is up with him,” Fogado concluded. “I’ve never seen him like that. It was like he was in another world.”
“He barely touched his risotto last night,” said Bunet. “It’s normally his favorite. And this morning, I prepared a delicious fruit custard tart, if I do say so myself, and he had scarcely a nibble.”
That was Bunet for something is clearly wrong.
“Right. So did something happen in the last battle?”
“In the lava fields? I do not think so. He was in the rearguard and didn’t see much combat.”
“Well, something’s bothering him,” said Fogado, elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “I asked him and he said he was fine, but…”
Here was the problem: Pandreo took everyone else’s worries onto himself. He always noticed when something was wrong. He was always there to lend a listening ear, to offer advice or comfort, to heal a literal wound or an emotional one.
But did he ever let anyone take on his worries in turn? Most of the time, he was in high spirits. But the times he seemed like something was bothering him, he always said the same thing. I’m fine, I’m great, couldn’t be better! And then he would typically turn it around and fuss over Fogado.
Fogado felt a little ashamed it had taken him this long to notice.
“Sorry to interrupt, but are you talking about Pandreo?” asked Framme, sliding into a seat at their table. She had a serious, focused look on her face, and was whispering like whatever she had to say was top secret. “I saw him walk into a wall this morning. Like, the wall was right there and he didn’t even see it! He just smacked straight into it!”
Fogado and Bunet exchanged a look.
Yes, their friend, as much as he said otherwise, was clearly deeply bothered by something.
“Right,” said Fogado. “I’ll find him today and have a talk. A heart-to-heart.”
So, once they finished lunch, he started leisurely walking around the Somniel, looking for orange hair and a priest’s robe. They would happen to run into each other and have a casual chat, and Fogado would assure Pandreo that he could talk to him about anything, and then they would talk and maybe cry a little and hug it out like bros. Easy peasy.
Ah, there he was. Pandreo was by the fishing pond, where he often sang or played music.
He wasn’t doing that today though. He was just sitting in one of the chairs, staring at his hands as if hypnotized.
“Pandreo!” said Fogado. Pandreo startled, immediately tucking his hands behind him on the wooden bench.
Huh. That was interesting.
“Oh, Fogado! Good afternoon!”
“Same to you,” said Fogado, sitting next to him. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, just…lost in thought.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Religious things. Very… theological.”
“Sure, sure. Listen, Pandreo, I just wanted to let you know I really appreciated the conversation we had last week.” Pandreo was looking at him blankly, so he continued. “When you told me I could talk to you about anything, and you would support me.”
“Oh,” said Pandreo, finding his footing. “Of course. And that will always hold true. Did you want to talk? Are you feeling okay?”
“Nah, I’m great. I just wanted to say… it goes both ways, you know? If something is bothering you, you can talk to me about it. No matter what it is.” He tried a playful grin for good measure. “I can keep a secret, I promise!”
Pandreo’s face softened into a smile. “I know. And I really appreciate that.”
There was a moment of silence. Fogado waited patiently. The silence continued.
“Sooooo…” said Fogado.
“So…?”
“Anything in particular on your mind? Because no offense, you seem really… shaken or something.”
Pandreo laughed. It was far more self-conscious than his laughter normally was. He was normally an all-cards-on-the-table type of guy, but now, it wouldn’t be more clear he was hiding something. “Ahah… no, no, nothing like that! I promise, nothing’s wrong. Actually, I’m quite happy, I just—”
As he rambled, he ran an anxious hand through his hair. A glint in the sunlight caught Fogado’s eye.
“What is that?”
Pandreo stiffened, immediately realizing his mistake. He slipped his hand out of his hair, turning away.
But Fogado was faster. Darting forward, he caught Pandreo’s hand in his.
A ring. On his ring finger!
Not an Emblem Ring. Those went back into the ring chamber as soon as they returned to the Somniel. This was one Fogado had never seen before… and by the size of the stone, quite expensive. Not something Pandreo would have any inclination to buy for himself. The sort that the noble ladies in court wore. The kind of big, flashy jewel you would see on a…
“Pandreo…” he said slowly, gears turning in his head. “Is this an engagement ring?”
Pandreo’s blush was immediate, and fascinating to watch. His whole face went pink, all the way to the tips of his ears.
“Well, it’s,” he said, snatching his hand away, “I mean, it’s not not an engagement ring…”
“Dude.”
“I—listen, it’s a bit complicated, and I promise I’ll tell you more later, but I can’t really… say anything yet, because, well…”
“Who is it? I didn’t even know you were courting anyone! How long have you been courting? Dude!”
“Maybe I should go. Actually, I think I have an appointment I’m late for. A very long appointment. I’ll see you in a day or two. Bye, Fogado!”
“You have to tell me! I’m your best friend!” Fogado called to his retreating back. Too late; Pandreo was gone.
—
Not heartsick after all, but lovesick. It was a relief to know that Pandreo was alright.
As far as Bunet was concerned, the case was closed. Matters of the heart hardly fell under his purview. He only concerned himself with matters of the stomach.
Fogado, meanwhile, was jubilant.
“Can you believe it?” he asked, “A secret lover! Who would’ve thought?”
“Indeed,” said Bunet. “He hardly seems the type.”
“Man, I wonder who it is. It’s gotta be someone here, right? Who do you think it is?”
Bunet didn’t particularly care to know, but it was easier to indulge Fogado. The slow-floating Somniel was drifting towards their next battlefield, but they had about two more days before they’d arrive there. And sometimes, when Fogado was feeling anxious about an upcoming battle, he liked to distract himself with silly things like gossip or parties or music.
Not many people knew that. But Bunet did.
So Bunet rifled through his memory. Who had Pandreo been associating with lately? “Prince Alcryst?” he suggested. The two had been out partying several times. The last time Bunet had seen them coming back together, Pandreo had an arm slung around Alcryst’s shoulder, the young prince flushed with happiness and talking far more animatedly than Bunet had ever seen him.
The smile dropped abruptly off Fogado’s face. “Really? Alcryst? Did he say something to you?”
Ah. Bunet had forgotten that Fogado also had a special fondness for Alcryst. He made a beeline for the Brodian prince whenever he saw him around the Somniel, and seemed entirely unphased by his skittishness. On the contrary, every conversation left him grinning like a fool.
Really, these matters of the heart were too much for Bunet. This was why he hadn’t wanted to get involved in the first place.
“No, I’m probably wrong,” said Bunet in a way he hoped was reassuring. Fogado looked unconvinced.
“That would be great!” said Fogado, and even Bunet could tell that his tone was off. “Because they’re both my friends. I’d be super happy for them. I’m just gonna, um…”
Fogado left with some vague excuse. Bunet sighed.
Well, it was about time to tend to his garden.
—
Alcryst was sitting with his retainers at the campground when Fogado walked by.
The sight of him, as it always did, made Alcryst’s heart start pounding. Ah, he was really going to have to get this under control. He couldn’t be shaking like a rabbit every time he saw Fogado. But what was he supposed to do, when Fogado was the warmest, kindest, handsomest, most charming person he knew?
Oh, this was not good.
He expected Fogado to keep walking, but to his horror, Fogado met his gaze, smiled, and sat down next to him.
“Heya, Prince Alcryst,” he said, with that rakish smile that made Alcryst’s tongue immediately turn to dust.
“Quick question, and I know it’s going to sound weird, but humor me. Are you involved with anyone?”
“I-In…involved?”
“You know, courting.”
“Courting?” said Alcryst, aghast. “Me? Oh, no, I daren’t impose myself on anyone like that. I don’t think I’m suited for a relationship. I’m sure I would be a terrible disappointment.”
“Good, good,” said Fogado, half to himself. “I mean, not the thing about being a disappointment. That’s awful. We’ve got to work on this self-deprecating talk.” He reached over and mussed Alcryst’s hair. Alcryst froze.
“I meant, the part about you being available. That’s good.” He hopped back up with a wink. “Well, seeya around!”
Alcryst watched him go helplessly. He turned to Lapis and Citrinne, who were both looking at him with inscrutable expressions.
“Wh…what?”
—
Panette was trying to reattach the head to a training dummy. One punch had sent it flying clean off. She supposed she could just keep whaling on the torso, but the weight was wrong, and it didn’t really look like a person with no head, and also, if she left the training ground with a dismembered dummy left behind, people might start asking questions.
Timerra had watched the head go flying and burst into cheers. That was Timerra for you. She had watched Panette try to reattach it for a while, arguing that the headless dummy looked way cooler, but seeing that Panette was serious about fixing it, she disappeared to go find a sewing kit.
Out of the corner of her eye, two silhouettes appeared. Fogado and Bunet. They didn’t seem particularly interested in training. They just watched her for a few minutes, two lurking figures at the edge of the training yard.
Finally, Panette placed the stuffed head daintily on top of the dummy’s neck. Folded her hands in front of her before turning. “May I help you?” she asked, sugary sweet.
Panette respected Fogado. Of course she did. He was the prince of their nation. Her boss’s beloved brother. And he had given Pandreo a position that was not just a title and income, but a home. Like the boss had done for her.
Still. She wasn’t exactly a fan of his…schmoozery.
“Good afternoon, Panette,” Fogado said breezily. “That was quite a punch! My sister is lucky to have you.”
That! That friendliness that she didn’t quite trust. She always felt like he was going into a conversation with an ulterior motive.
“I’m the lucky one,” Panette muttered. She cleared her throat. That hadn’t been quite ladylike enough.
“Sure, sure,” said Fogado, leaning his forearms over the fence. “The bond between royalty and retainers is a sacred one and blah blah blah. Speaking of which, how’s Pandreo lately?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
“Really? So you wouldn’t know anything about his…” he lowered his head, as if what he was about to say was of the utmost significance, “...secret lover?”
“Nope.”
Fogado looked a bit disappointed at her complete lack of reaction.
“What are you all talking about?” asked Timerra, skipping back over, sewing kit in hand.
“Pandreo’s secret lover,” said Fogado.
“Ooh, juicy!”
“Please don’t encourage him, Princess Timerra,” said Panette, doing her best to stay genteel. When they were alone, Timerra was Boss. But in front of others, she was Princess Timerra. Because Panette was a proper retainer, of course. “Prince Fogado. I don’t know anything about my brother’s love life, nor do I care to. Nor, if I’m being honest, should you. I believe he deserves as much privacy as anyone would.”
“Oooh, called out!” said Timerra, sounding more delighted with this conversation by the minute. “She just called you nosy, little bro!”
“I’m not nosy—”
“I did not,” said Panette, slightly horrified at the idea of her saying something so egregious to royalty. “I simply suggested that—that perhaps this conversation was… was…”
“Panette, if you won’t say it, I will. You’re being nosy, sibby.”
Poor Fogado looked taken aback. “I wasn’t trying to…I mean, he’s keeping secrets from me. He’s never done that before.”
“Oh?” said Timerra, rocking back on her heels. “Cuz you don’t keep any secrets from him, right?”
Bullseye. Fogado lowered his gaze, looking contrite.
“Okay,” he said. “Fair enough.”
Timerra took a few bouncy steps over to her little brother, patting him on the head.
“Just give it time,” she said. “Let him come to you.”
—
And so, as the sun began to set, they found themselves in the cafeteria again, sipping on drinks that Bunet had put together. Something with mint and lemon. Surprisingly refreshing.
“I mean, it’s gotta be someone scandalous, right?” said Fogado absently, stirring his drink. “Otherwise he would just tell us. Vander? Do you think Vander is too old for him?”
“I don’t know,” said Bunet. “If I may speak frankly, I believe Panette was right. Perhaps we are over-involving ourselves.”
“Yeah,” said Fogado, a little disheartened. “You’re right.” A pause. “Hey, you’re on dinner duty tonight, right?”
“Yes,” said Bunet. “I was thinking acqua pazza.”
“Yes!”
Because, of course, Bunet’s acqua pazza was delicious.
—
The next day, Fogado and Bunet were lounging at the poolside. It would still take a day or so until they reached the next battlefield, and they had already trained this morning, so they were taking the opportunity to relax in the sunshine.
A figure stopped in front of them, casting a shadow. Fogado raised his sunglasses. It was Pandreo, arms folded, face pinched. It was rare to see him annoyed like this.
“Fogado,” he said, “Bunet.”
“Hey, Pandreo! Wanna join us?”
“No, I,” Pandreo adjusted his position, seemed to not know where to put his hands, and settled for on his hips. The whole thing looked very unnatural. Like a schoolteacher whose students didn’t respect him, trying to take control of a class. It was kind of adorable. “Were you… going around the Somniel asking about my love life?”
“Going around the Somniel seems a bit harsh,” said Fogado. “I mean, we asked Panette. Timerra was there.”
Pandreo was still frowning at them.
“Look, dude,” said Fogado, pulling himself off the pool chair to a seated position, “I’m sorry. We were just worried about you! You’ve been acting so weird. But we talked last night and agreed it was none of our business. So we’ll drop it. I won’t ask anyone else about your secret lover.”
“That’s not,” said Pandreo, sighing, at the same time another voice said “secret lover?”
They all startled. Pandreo especially. He about jumped out of his skin. Alear was standing there, dressed for the pool, a towel slung over his shoulder. (It was still very weird to see the god of their world walking around the Somniel in a swimsuit or workout gear. Once it had been some sort of…Sommie costume? That was definitely the weirdest. But who was Fogado to question his judgment?)
“Divine One,” said Pandreo, voice cracking.
Oh no. Was dating like, against the priest code? Had Fogado just given away his secret in front of the Divine Dragon?
“No, um, I didn’t mean—” said Fogado. But wait, he couldn’t lie to the Divine Dragon’s face, could he? That was probably some sort of super sin! Fogado opened his mouth, stricken, torn between bro code and the possibility of being consigned to an eternity of torment.
“Yes,” said Bunet, answering for him. Way to be a bro!
“Hm,” said Alear, looking a bit amused. “That’s very interesting.”
“You can ignore them, Divine One, they’re just being idiots.”
“Oh? So you’re saying you don’t have a secret lover?”
Pandreo opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Okay, if Pandreo wasn’t in trouble, this was very funny. Fogado would have to give him crap about it later.
“Why does it have to be secret?” said Alear, voice gentle.
“I, I just—we hadn’t discussed next steps, so I—”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“Of course not!” said Pandreo hotly.
“Then why don’t we just… tell them?”
Oh, this made sense. Pandreo had already told Alear about his mysterious suitor. Maybe he needed to get his god’s approval after all. Maybe he had needed to confess. Totally made sense. His god came first, after all.
(Still, Fogado couldn’t help the tiniest, tickling jealousy that his best friend had told someone who wasn’t him.)
Alear turned to look at Fogado and Bunet, smiling almost apologetically. “The truth is, I’m the one you’re looking for. Pandreo and I are… together.”
“Oh,” said Fogado. “Haha. Good one, Divine One! You’ve learned how to joke, huh?”
“It’s not a joke,” said Alear, taking Pandreo’s hand. The blue-gemmed ring was still there, shining like a promise. “This is the pact ring. I’ve asked Pandreo to be my partner.”
Fogado and Bunet were silent. Pandreo was turning tomato-red. He didn’t move his hand. Alear was still holding it, presenting it proudly.
“Pandreo, you dog,” said Fogado, delighted, “You’re dating the Divine Dragon??? When? How? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“It’s kind of a big deal!” Pandreo hissed. “And I was going to tell you eventually! If you weren’t so impatient about it!”
“How long has this been going on? How did you get together? I need to know all the details!” Fogado was grinning ear to ear. Oh, this was good. This was great. This was absolutely hilarious.
“Pardon me for asking,” said Bunet, “but to clarify… are you courting, or engaged?”
Pandreo said, “Oh, well, that’s, we—”
Alear, at the same time: “I was thinking we would get married after the war.”
Pandreo let out the most pathetic little squeak Fogado had ever heard. It was a good thing Alear was still holding onto his wrist, because for a moment, it really looked like Pandreo might faint.
“Divine One,” he wheezed.
“Oh,” said Alear, frowning. “Perhaps we need to discuss further. Pandreo, are you okay? Pandreo? ...hm. Maybe you should lie down. Fogado, Bunet, we'll see you later.”
He led Pandreo off. Pandreo allowed himself to be herded, still looking completely dazed.
Fogado and Bunet watched them go.
“Well,” said Bunet. “I suppose that’s one mystery solved.”
“Holy shit,” said Fogado.