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He stumbled through the hall, drunk on whatever number cup he was on. Surely now that he’s under the influence—that he can be influenced—that this means he’s human, right? That what he’s been feeling is all a silly misunderstanding. That he would certainly forget this nonsense he’s built up in the morning and return to his soldier duties with..
Frederik. His supposed general. He squinted at the harsh light the moon sent through the window, dizzy with his throbbing head. Reassurance, at least. He is human if he can feel this.
But why can’t he remember all the days he spent training at.. what was the place called?
Hm.. Kettlenam? He stumbled near the wall, reaching for a knob that wasn’t there. Huh. What part of the house was he in?
He blinked. Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to be drunk. In an attempt to sober up, he blinked once more before righting himself slightly. At best, he recognized that this was a hall, but there were many of these, almost identical, in nearly ever corner.
Frederik had called him Josef..Surely that was confirmation of who he is. But if he was trying so hard to remember, then was he human at all?
“Josef?” His name echoed through the hall, and with his head still tender and achy, he shuttered. He could make out a figure in the distance, closing in on him at a rather impressive speed.
“Ah, there you are.” He only watched as Frederik led him by the arm to a nearby door. With a glance around, he took the knob and pushed the door open, gently pushing him into the room.
“Where?..-“ His legs gave way, and before he could react properly, Frederik’s grip tightened. He gasped as he was lifted with ease before getting out atop a mattress similar to Clara’s.
“My room,” he murmured. Frederik turned away in thought, assumably looking for something. Josef was too tired to answer.
“So it seems you’ve left dinner early. Mind telling your general why?” Frederick reappeared with a tray of a steaming tea set, gently placing one in his hands.
You’re not my general, he wanted to say.
“I thought I would cause a scene, had I continued to stay there,” he sighed instead.
“Oh?” The taller looked up from his cup and smirked. “What kind of scene?”
He frowned. “Well, an unsightly one since I know my dignity disappears the moment I’m under something.”
“Hmph. Would’ve thought it had something to do with my sister. Ashamed to be with her, is it?”
Josef blanched. “I-I beg your pardon?” He froze as Frederik only crept closer, tea but forgotten on the tray.
“Well, you love her, don’t you? Isn’t that why you’re still here?”
But I’m just a—
“I—“ he gulped. Did he love her? Or did he think he loved her?
His eyes only widened as Frederik ran his hand along his jaw. He dared to think it was in a manner most soothing, judging by its gentle touch. He continued lower until his fingers were just on top of his pulse point. He brought his hand to his head, and he shuddered at the hot breath that came with it.
“Could you love me, too?”
And then his lips were against his, all hot and sharp. Nothing as soft and giggly as Clara’s had been. No, there was no compassion in this kiss. Only lust.
A muffled gasp was all he could let out as Frederik brought a hand against his nape to tug him closer. Josef felt the desperation in the way each hand was searching him, trying to map out his body. Trying to figure out his pleasure.
And then it was over. The hand on his nape that had cushioned his fall against the bed had slipped away. Hid vision blurred as he panted harshly. With a hand over his chest, he could feel his heartbeat. It was.. fast, and loud, and constant.
It was there. It was real.
He searched for Frederik’s eyes. Why did he stop?
“I’m not like Clara.” His gaze remained cool, but his hands betrayed them—shaky as leaves in the autumn. “I won’t risk my sanity for the sake of my entertainment.”
The message was clear and reasonable, but why did it pain him so much to hear it?
With a sharp exhale, he stood.
He remembered the echoes of their last conversation amongst the family.
Wasn’t he to stay here for the night?
His steps faltered, and hesitance showed through his face. Should he still leave?
“Ah, I told Clara you’d be here, didn’t I?” He pinched the bridge of his nose before rising to collect the tray.
“You can stay here. I’ll find another room to sleep.”
“But—“
“It’s nothing to worry about, Josef.” At his unchanged expression he only sighed again.
“Sleep well. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Ketterdam, remember?”
He thought of heavy snow, biting winds, and dimmed lampposts.
So that’s what he had forgotten.
He’d slept on the bed—or rather, a bed—for the first time, reveling in its soft material, but also in the excitement of what was to come.
He’s get his answers tomorrow when he arrived at Ketterdam.