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Tracey knew his mother didn’t like for him to go to the barracks, but it didn’t make much sense to worry about his safety when he was surrounded by the royal guard. He couldn’t be safer, and really, he enjoyed watching Gary train enough that it was worth being a little disobedient.
Presently, his knight was sparring with Ash, the dull training swords clashing as the two swung at and parried each other without hesitation. A few other knights sparred in pairs throughout the training grounds, but many stood alongside Tracey to watch Gary and Ash, placing bets or cheering their favorite on. Despite the danger they trained for, there was levity and camaraderie in the air—far more so than in the palace, where the atmosphere felt heavy with formalities and expectations.
Tracey shook his head to dismiss those thoughts, focusing instead on Gary. Gary’s movements were bold but graceful, his strength and agility showing in every swift dodge and fierce swing of his sword.
Tracey couldn’t quite tell who had the upper hand—Gary was taller and slimmer, which seemed to give him an advantage in moving quickly and a longer stride to sidestep out of an attack’s way, but Ash was strong and not letting up, and the two had clearly sparred enough times to know how the other fought and anticipate each other’s moves. It was like an elaborate dance—no wonder the other knights had gathered around to watch.
Ash landed a hit on Gary’s leg that made Gary stumble, and a chorus of cheers broke out. But Gary found his footing again before Ash could land another blow, back to dodging and parrying and trying to strike Ash back.
“That might’ve turned the tides in Ash’s favor,” the auburn-haired young man standing beside Tracey said. His intelligent blue eyes were focused on the fight, unfazed by Tracey’s presence. “He’s got Gary on the defense now, probably hoping to tire him out.”
“Gary can turn it around,” Tracey said. “I’ve seen how tough and clever he is.”
Gary didn’t look worn out yet. He moved deftly as ever, reactions swift and face determined.
The young man nodded. “It’s anyone’s fight. These two know each other better than anyone else in the guard, and they’re pretty evenly matched.” With a grin, he added, “We keep a tally of who wins their sparring matches and they’re tied right now. Care to join the betting pool for who breaks the tie, your highness?”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Tracey said sheepishly. “Thanks for the offer though, sir… knight.”
“It’s Ritchie,” he said. “And fair enough on not joining the betting. Barry handles it, and he’s… a lot. My money’s on Ash though.”
“Why is that?” Tracey asked, curious.
“They’re an even match in terms of ability, but Gary won last time, and that’ll have Ash fired up to beat him,” Ritchie explained. “That, and I probably shouldn’t say this, but… Gary has seemed a little distracted lately.”
“Distracted?” Tracey didn’t think much escaped his notice, but to him Gary had seemed as focused and dedicated as ever.
“Don’t worry, I doubt he’s letting it affect his work,” Ritchie said. “But when he’s off-duty, he keeps pacing around or staring into space or sneaking off. We’ve got a betting pool on what’s up with that too. I’m pretty sure he’s either pining after some guy or already seeing one.”
Tracey felt an odd swell of emotions at that. The idea of Gary liking a guy, but that guy probably not being him… he shook his head to dismiss the thought. Ritchie could just be wrong. Tracey didn’t need to be getting his hopes up or feeling an unfamiliar and completely unfair pang of jealousy towards someone who might not even exist.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Ritchie put his hands up appeasingly. “I didn’t mean to upset you, your highness.”
“It’s okay,” Tracey said, not wanting this nice knight to think he was in trouble. “I’m just… worried, I guess.”
“Don’t be,” Ritchie said. “Like I said, I doubt he’d ever let that affect his job—he’s so proud of being the crown prince’s personal guard. And whatever he has going on, he’s still one of the sharpest knights in the kingdom.”
At that moment, Gary managed to disarm Ash, Ash’s sword landing on the ground a couple feet away and the flat of Gary’s sword being pressed against Ash’s throat, both knights sweat-soaked and panting by now. For reasons he didn’t understand, Tracey felt a sudden heat stir in his core at the sight.
“See?” Ritchie said, jerking him out of his thoughts before he could ruminate on what that was. “He’s still got it. Damn, though, I lost the bet…”
“Pay up, Ritchie!” someone shouted.
Sighing, Ritchie pulled out his wallet. Tracey cast him a sympathetic look before heading for Gary.
The training swords had been sheathed and Gary was bantering good-naturedly with his fellow knight. When he saw Tracey approaching, he grinned.
“You were amazing!” Tracey praised. He turned to Ash—who looked shocked, as if he hadn’t noticed the crown prince was watching him until now. “Both of you were.”
Ash quickly relaxed. “Thanks, your highness! I’ll beat you next time, Gary, just you wait.”
“You just keep telling yourself that, Ashy,” Gary replied before turning his gaze on Tracey. The flush of exertion was still fading from his face, but he was smiling. “Did you have fun watching us hit each other with training swords?”
The remark was probably a joke, but Tracey nodded. “You guys are incredible. Really. Do you have fun?”
“Between you and me,” Gary said, looking over his shoulder as if to confirm the rest of the knights were leaving the training grounds and he wouldn’t be heard, “yeah. Training is important, and it feels good to spar.”
“I’m glad,” Tracey said, some of the warm fondness in his chest making it into his voice.
With just the two of them there, a nice quiet fell upon them. Then that quiet was broken by Gary’s stomach growling loudly.
Tracey let out a laugh. “You sound hungry.”
“I always am after this,” Gary said, a little flushed but clearly determined to act like he wasn’t embarrassed. “It’s a consequence of swinging a big piece of metal around for hours.”
“I had a feeling about that.” Tracey reached into his pocket and took out a carefully wrapped pastry. It was slightly squished, but the way Gary’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, he clearly didn’t mind. “I thought you might like something nice to eat after working so hard.”
“You’re a lifesaver, your highness.” Gary took it and started eating, apparently either too hungry to ask questions or not wanting to look a gift ponyta in the mouth.
Tracey smiled. He didn’t get to repay his knight for being so devoted as often as he’d like, and when he got a chance he could never pass it up. Seeing Gary’s gratitude sent a warmth through him like nothing else.
He knew exactly why. And he knew he should fight it, knew it could never really be, but… he couldn’t. “Would you teach me how to do that?”
Gary choked. After a few seconds of coughing, he looked at Tracey in surprise. “What, teach you to fight?”
“Yeah,” Tracey said. “Remember that time you got hurt by a beedrill in the woods? If anything like that happens again, I want to be able to keep you safe too.”
It was true, partly. But the harder part to say out loud was that Tracey really wanted to be close to Gary—to meet his eyes when the fire of combat was sparking in them, to feel his strength, to see up close his graceful agility when an opponent challenged him.
“I don’t plan on that happening again,” Gary replied, wincing at the memory. “But you make a good point. If anything happens to me, or someone comes after you when I’m not around, you should at least have a basic idea of how to defend yourself.”
The twinge of guilt Tracey felt at not telling Gary the other reason he wanted to do this was overpowered by the thrill of not hearing a no. “Is that a yes?”
Gary frowned as if hesitating, but then nodded. “I’ll bring you back to the training ground tonight. Nobody will see us then.”
“Hey, Prince Consort!” someone shouted in the distance, making Tracey jump as Gary whirled in the direction the shout had come from. “Are you gonna come shower or are you gonna stand around flirting all day?”
Tracey felt himself flush, accompanied by a surge of panic that someone was not only onto him, but suspected something that could get Gary in serious trouble.
But then Gary shouted back an unperturbed, “Yeah, yeah, just a minute!” Sighing, he turned to face Tracey again. “Don’t look so freaked out, he was joking. Nobody would suspect you of doing anything more scandalous than sneaking out to the barracks.”
Tracey wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted by that or not. “And what about you?”
“I take my job seriously,” Gary said, which wasn’t exactly an answer. “Speaking of, let’s get you back to the palace. Then I can wash off.”
Tracey nodded in acceptance, though he couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment.
Gary knew he shouldn’t be feeling so excited about sneaking his prince out for them to hit each other with swords, but he couldn’t help the thrill that shot through him as the two of them stood in the training grounds under the light of a full moon. The night air was pleasantly cool—perfect for sparring.
He’d grabbed the wooden training swords this time—they were lighter, easier for beginners to handle, with less potential for injury. After giving one to Tracey, he stepped back to swing his experimentally, adjusting to the weight of it. He was aware of Tracey’s attentive gaze on him. Good.
“You’ll want to keep a wide, solid stance,” he instructed. “You’re harder to knock off balance that way.”
Tracey nodded, adjusting his stance.
“Not bad,” Gary said. “Hold your sword like this and try some practice swings.”
Tracey adjusted his hold and took a few swings. He looked nervous at first, but with every swing, he seemed to loosen up a little and put more enthusiasm into it. Gary watched, intending to critique Tracey’s form, but finding himself distracted by the warm flutter in his chest at how much his prince seemed to be enjoying such a simple exercise.
And to be fair, Tracey had clearly been paying attention to the training earlier. His form wasn’t bad.
“Good,” Gary praised, and Tracey lit up. He took a few steps closer. “Now try hitting me.”
Tracey’s expression turned apprehensive.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” Gary said. “Promise. I’m tougher than that, and you can’t do a lot of damage with just a training sword like these.”
Still looking a little reluctant, Tracey gave a tentative nod. He swung the sword, and Gary parried it effortlessly. There had been no force behind the swing—gods forbid Tracey ever be in a situation where he had to fight, he was too gentle for this. It was kind of adorable.
Gary shook his head to dismiss that thought. He absolutely could not be thinking about his charge as cute. “Seriously, you don’t have to be afraid of hurting me, your highness,” he said. “I know you can do better than that.”
Tracey was solidly built, but light on his feet. He’d be an effective fighter if he just had the heart to use his strengths.
This time, he swung harder and faster. Gary sidestepped out of the way, but it grazed his shoulder and he stumbled in surprise. Tracey opened his mouth as if to apologize, but Gary stopped him. “That’s more like it!”
Tracey flashed a sweet, self-conscious smile at the praise.
Gary lightly tapped the flat of his blade against Tracey’s arm. “Now keep at it. I’ll take some swings at you too, and I want you to watch my moves and try to block them.”
He really didn’t want to—attacking his prince went against his every instinct—but he reminded himself that the wooden training swords couldn’t do anything worse than bruise, and Tracey learning how to defend himself would keep him safer. Maybe Gary was a bit of a hypocrite.
He was jerked out of his thoughts by another blow to his shoulder, bringing him back into the present. He barely bit back a startled yelp, instead giving a proud, “Good!”
Whether or not Tracey had realized Gary was distracted, he’d landed a solid hit, and Gary needed to encourage that if this training was going to get anywhere.
He swung in return and Tracey was quick to react—though by recoiling away from the attack instead of trying to deflect it. “Sorry. Reflex.”
“Don’t apologize to the enemy,” Gary chided him lightly.
Tracey opened his mouth like he intended to apologize again, then caught himself and shut it. Instead, he swung his sword again, Gary meeting it with his own. In the dark, it was hard to tell if Gary imagined the spark of something that lit in Tracey’s gaze.
But he definitely wasn’t imagining the energy in Tracey’s movements, still uncertain but a little more eager. Even untrained as he was, he was nimble and had good reflexes. Gary was holding back, but he was still impressed by how well Tracey was faring.
One of Gary’s blows connected hard enough that Tracey dropped his sword with a yelp. Gary instantly froze. “Shit, did that hurt?”
Kneeling down to pick the sword up, Tracey gave him a sheepish look. “I’m fine, just startled me. Keep going.”
Gary nodded, still giving Tracey a second to recover and make the first move before striking in return. Tracey was getting a little more confident with every swing, and Gary found himself getting more excited. There was more force in Tracey’s blows now, and though he still flinched whenever Gary landed a hit (and Gary had to suppress a wince at the thought of leaving bruises on his prince), he kept going as if unfazed.
The back and forth dance continued with increasing intensity—intensity Gary could see reflected in Tracey’s gaze, making something stir in him that he refused to think about—until Tracey stumbled. He regained his balance, but he was panting.
Gary really didn’t want to exhaust him completely in one session. He blocked Tracey’s next swing, feeling the lack of strength behind it. “That’s enough for tonight. Take a break.”
Tracey looked somewhere between disappointed and relieved. He handed the sword over to Gary without protest, dropping to the ground with a weary smile.
Shaking his head in amusement, Gary let the swords clatter to the ground and sat beside Tracey. His abdomen rose and fell hard and fast as he caught his breath, and even in the cool night air his face was flushed from exertion, but he smiled up at Gary with an exhilaration that made Gary feel warm from something else entirely.
Unbidden, the thought of Tracey flushed and out of breath and smiling at him in an entirely different context crossed his mind, and he shook his head to force the thought away. He couldn’t be thinking that way about Tracey, his charge, the crown prince. It was damn near treasonous.
Tracey’s gaze on him turned curious. “Gary? Something on your mind?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gary said.
“You can tell me if something’s bothering you, you know,” Tracey said, voice soft. “I care about you.”
“I know.” If there was one thing Gary knew very well, it was that Tracey was far kinder than he needed to be. He’d be a great king someday. Gary would be proud to stay by his side, always keeping him safe. “I’m fine, promise.”
Tracey still looked doubtful, but he let it go, closing his eyes. “It feels nice out tonight. Thanks for coming out here with me.”
“Anything for you, your highness,” Gary said, and he was startled by the genuine affection in his voice.
If Tracey noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Just stayed exactly as he was, looking far more content than he ever seemed to be within the confines of the palace.
Then he frowned, as if something had crossed his mind. His gaze was on Gary again. “There’s something I should probably tell you.”
Gary felt a twinge of worry at his serious tone and the troubled look in his eyes. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” Tracey said. “When I asked you to train me, I wasn’t telling the whole truth about why. I do want to be able to fight if you get hurt, but… mostly I just wanted to be close to you, feel what you felt, see you like that up close.”
Gary needed a second to process that. Tracey wanting to be close to him was nothing new—they’d even lain together one night, though Tracey had been upset and just needed company, and they’d come to a silent agreement not to speak of it again (though that didn’t stop Gary from turning the memory of Tracey’s soft warmth over in his mind for many nights after)—but the way Tracey was saying it now made it sound like a confession of something deeper.
Oh.
That couldn’t be true. Gary had to have misunderstood. Tracey was clearly fond of him, but his charge couldn’t possibly be in love with him.
Tracey was looking at Gary in wide-eyed panic, scrambling to his feet and stammering out apologies, and Gary realized he needed a response now. Acting on pure instinct, Gary stood and caught him by the wrist, then pulled him into a kiss.
It swiftly ended when Gary came to his senses. He pulled away from Tracey’s flushed, startled face, trying not to think about how soft those lips were. He floundered for anything to say and landed on, “How’s that for close?”
Yep, he was dead. He was going to be executed at nineteen. At least he’d had a good life. Not a long one, but a good one.
Tracey blinked a couple times, seemingly having gone from startled to utterly confused, then broke into a fit of laughter.
“Sorry,” he half-said, half-wheezed. “It’s just—that’s one way to tell me you’re not upset.”
Gary realized he probably wasn’t going to die. The way his heart was pounding though, it wasn’t entirely out of the question. “Yeah, it’s alright. Were you, uh, saying what I think you were saying?”
“I… I think so?” Tracey had settled down, but he lowered his gaze self-consciously. “I know there’s a whole bunch of reasons we can’t happen, but I know how I feel about you. You’re all I want.”
That was pretty difficult to misinterpret. Putting a hand over his heart to steady it, Gary met his prince’s eyes. The next words to leave his mouth were going to be either the best or worst decision he had ever made, and undoubtedly the most dangerous. “Maybe I’m not the alliance with Cerulean that Her Majesty wants, but she doesn’t know I brought you out here tonight. There can be more things she doesn’t know about.”
Tracey’s smile was enough to convince Gary he’d made the right choice.