Work Text:
Charles walked through the maze of corridors, trying to locate the library. A sweet servant explained to him how to get there, but he was pretty sure he missed the turn to the left a while ago, and now he was in a completely different part of the castle. The part of the castle that was occupied by their rivals, where knights with dark blue capes stood at every door, giving him empty stares as he rushed through, his feet clad in soft calfskin boots slapping over the stone floor being the loudest sound.
He knew they wouldn’t do anything as he was just walking through, but the irrational fear persisted, making him walk faster, turning every few steps to make sure none of the knights were following him. The portraits of old royals watched him with disdain, their eyes following every single one of his steps. All of this wasn’t helping with the goose skin on his arms, just making it somewhat worse.
He descended down a spiral staircase that he hoped would lead to the lower corridor that he should’ve turned into, providing escape from this nightmarish part of the castle, but instead, a metal door with a filigree door knob appeared. The lantern mounted at the wall was flickering, and Charles felt a slight breeze hit his face. He probably shouldn’t return through the hallway so early, to prevent the knights from thinking he was spying on them.
You are paranoid, a voice similar to Joris quipped in Charles’ head. The door stood there, mysterious, unmoving, with the breeze tickling Charles’ face. A little look wouldn’t hurt, right?
Curious, he turned the knob and the door opened quietly, without any resistance. Behind the dark metal was a paradise. Fresh air hit his nose, the bright sunlight making him squint even though his eyes were shaded by the lace mask he was required to wear outside of his quarters.
Behind the door was a garden.
A beautiful garden growing at the side of the castle, filled with tall, colourful grasses and little islands of pink gardenias and beautiful white rose bushes that were in full bloom. It was safe to say that he found something that could equal the wonders of the library he didn’t manage to find.
Letting the door fall closed, Charles stepped onto the soft grass, fingers tangling with the purple grass tickling his waist from the left. It was so beautiful, offering temporary peace to his troubled mind. Gusts of breeze twisted his hair and made the sleeves of his robes flap around his body like wings, the gold details shimmering and clinking with every move.
Slowly, marvelling at the beauty growing in such an unusual place, Charles made his way to the edge of the garden, where the castle wall rose from between the bushes of roses.
One look over the wall on his tiptoes had him gasping.
“Oh my,” he whispered. The garden was high up, offering a beautiful view of the summer ruling over the lands stretching before his eyes.
Golden planes of wheat rolled in the wind, trees filled with fruits offered shade from the cruel sun beaming down and birds flew high in the sky between pristine white clouds scattered in between. Charles breathed it all in, leaning on his arms to get a better look over the garden wall. It reminded him so much of Monaco, he realised with a pang of sadness.
He could hear the horses in the stables below neighing, the breeze bringing laughter and sounds of the castle up to his ears.
Maybe if he leaned forward a bit more, he could probably see the water moat…
“Careful, or you will fall down.”
Charles jumped a bit, his arms slipping from the top of the wall, the periwinkle blue robes staining with moss green. He turned around, meeting twinkling blue eyes. The eyes that reminded him of the harbour he could see from the window of his quarters back home.
“I - I wouldn’t fall, I just wanted to see the moat,” he whispered, cheeks colouring deep red. The blue eyes crinkled, almost disappearing behind the rosy cheeks of the other man.
“That can be arranged,” the other man said, taking a step closer. Instinctively, Charles took a step back, his back hitting the wall. He swallowed, and the man stepped back, hands raised in a placating gesture, like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.
“I won’t hurt you, I was just about to offer you a hand so you can sit on the wall and get a better view,” the man explained, gesticulating wildly. “I am as harmless as a fly,” he added, tilting his head to side, his golden hair flopping as wind picked up.
“I can sit on the wall? Isn’t it too dangerous?” Charles questioned, twisting his hands. The man smiled, his lips twisting into a soft smile, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes deepening.
“It’s not been stated that we aren’t allowed to sit on this wall,” he said slowly, like he was carefully choosing every word. “But no one has to know if we sit on it and enjoy the view,” he grinned, the smile revealing a row of white teeth. Charles felt oddly charmed.
“Very well then. How does one get on top of this wall?” he asked, turning halfway to the wall. It was still pretty tall for him to just hop on top, and he was dressed in his formal robes. Those were good for studying, but not for climbing on castle walls. The man laughed, a hearty, deep sound that warmed Charles to his core.
“Let me give you a hand,” he offered, stepping forward when Charles nodded. He bent down, creating a step with his palms, just like the stable boys did when they helped ladies mount their horses.
“Just put one leg here and then put both of your hands on the top of the wall, I will give you a push,” the man explained, looking at Charles with a smile. The top of the wall was warm from the sun shining on it the whole day, and not even a moment later, Charles was sitting atop the wall, looking down at the water moat.
“How is the view?” the man asked, looking up with a wide smile.
Charles laughed, delighted. “It’s beautiful, thank you,” he replied, bending down. “Shall I give you a hand?” he asked, extending his arm to the other man.
The man shook his head, grinning.
“Thank you, I can get up there easily,” he answered, gripping the top of the wall, hoisting his body up in one smooth motion. Such a casual showcase of strength did something to Charles. His stomach twisted, palms sweating, and mouth dried out as he saw the way the man’s arms moved under his black robes, hinting at solid muscles hidden under the fabric.
He felt his cheeks heat up even more as the man settled next to him, mirroring Charles’ position with crossed legs. Charles shamelessly watched as the man sighed, turning his head to face the sun, his stunning eyes closing, like a cat that found a particularly sunny spot.
“Beautiful, right?” the man asked after a while, turning to Charles. Even the way he opened his eyes reminded Charles of the two cats that lived in the castle.
Charles nodded. The man gave him a soft smile. Charles looked down at the sparkling surface of the water, at the kids jumping from the bridge into the water.
“Someone once told me that in every water moat lived a monster that would eat me if I jumped in,” Charles said, gesturing to the water. The man laughed.
“Yeah, it must've been very scary to hear,” he wondered out loud, and Charles nodded.
“Yes, I was pretty scared of any water for a while… which is pretty ironic,” he laughed, thinking back to the azure waves crashing into the cliffs of Monte Carlo.
“I like this view, I’ve been coming here to destress, to think… clears your mind, the wind,” the man chuckled, making Charles giggle as well. He gave him a curious look. “How did you find this place?”
Charles felt himself blush again. Curious blue eyes twinkled at him.
Charles wouldn’t mind getting lost in the sea blue of those orbs. He let his eyes fall to his hands, folded over the soft blue of his robes. If he continued to look at the man, he would probably forget what he wanted to say.
“I just… took a wrong turn. I wanted to go to the library, you see, I’ve run out of books, and the directions were a bit confusing, as I don’t speak German that well…”
The man smiled at him. “German is confusing when it’s not your language. I had trouble learning it, and it’s not that far off from my mother tongue,” he explained, hands moving around. Charles watched as the big palms landed on strong thighs. He swallowed. This man was tempting.
“I am Max,” the man rasped, extending his hand. Charles took it, firmly shaking it, enjoying the feel of calloused skin over his own soft one.
“Charles. Pleased to meet you, Max,” he smiled, still holding Max’s hand. Soft breeze fluttered around them, tousling their hair. Max was beautiful in the afternoon light, his strong nose and full lips glistening in the golden light. Charles could look at him for hours, study him, his every move and expression, cataloguing it all.
“So, Charles! Tell me, what books in the library are of your interest?” Max smiled, and Charles laughed, launching an explanation of the titles he only heard of but itched to read…
“I should probably go back, before someone starts looking for me,” Charles said, after hours of talking and laughing. The sky was already darkening, purples and dark oranges painting beautiful streaks over the dark blue of the approaching night. Max hummed.
“You definitely should, would be shame if the negotiations were stumped because I was holding you hostage for a day in a garden,” Max laughed, sliding down the wall. He landed with a huff, the fur draped over his shoulders fluttering. Charles laughed.
“Holding me hostage? I don’t think you would hold anyone hostage, Max,” Charles exclaimed, looking down at him. Max’s expression shifted for a second, turning into something different, darker, but it passed fast. He extended his hand up to Charles, smile back on his face.
“Need a hand?” he asked cheekily.
Charles blushed.
“My legs did fall asleep at some point, so help is needed, I think,” Charles smiled, letting his hand slide into Max’s. Charles looked down, a bit concerned. He knew it seemed higher than it really was, but still. Max gave him a reassuring smile.
“I will catch you, don’t worry Charles,” Max said, his thumb gently rubbing over the top of Charles’ palm. Charles’ stomach did an embarrassing cartwheel at the little pet name. Max’s eyes were wide and sincere, offering nothing but safety. Charles extended his other hand, feeling his insides flutter some more when Max grasped it in his firm hold.
“Ready when you are,” Max smiled, and Charles leaped off the wall without any warning. Over the few moments it took him to land, Max let go of his hands and grasped his waist instead, Charles’ hands landing on his shoulders. Gently, Max let Charles’ feet hit the ground, still firmly holding his waist.
Charles let his palms slide down, marvelling at the softness of the fur covering the broad shoulders. Max didn’t move a muscle, just firmly held onto Charles’ waist.
“Thank you, Max,” Charles whispered into the space between them, smiling softly. Max returned the smile, letting his head roll forward, so his golden hair tickled Charles on his forehead above his lace mask. He was so close, just an inch closer and their noses would bump into each other, and their lips would brush together as one of them spoke… Charles itched to breach that divide, to feel the plush pink lips under his own, to taste them. Charles blushed at his own thoughts and desires.
Joris would make fun of him for behaving like a damsel meeting a man for the first time if he could see Charles now. Thankfully, he couldn’t.
Max released Charles’ waist, and Charles had to fight down the soft sound of disappointment threatening to leave his lips. Max walked to a shrub of white roses next to them, breaking off one of the rose buds. Carefully, he peeled away the thorns and tore off the leaves, turning to Charles.
“A beautiful rose for a beautiful man,” Max proclaimed, holding it up. Charles bit his lip.
“Thank you, Max,” he whispered, touching Max’s outstretched arm. “Could you, please?” he gestured to his hair, where his mask was tied.
Max audibly swallowed.
He took a step closer, tucking the stem of the rose into Charles’ wavy hair, just behind the soft silk ribbon of his mask, his fingers lingering, buried in Charles’ hair alongside the green stem. They stayed like that for a moment, Max caressing Charles’ head with his big palm. Then his fingers slipped away, leaving Charles craving for more.
“There you go,” he whispered, softly brushing away the hair from Charles’ face. Charles raised his hand, gently touching Max’s cheek. The other man closed his eyes, leaning into touch.
“Charles, schatje,” he whispered, taking a step back, while disappointment flooded Charles’ face. But Max wasn’t done talking. “I won’t tarnish your reputation, however secluded this garden is. Let me take you back inside, help you find a way back to your quarters, and then I will find you in the library tomorrow. I want to court you properly,” Max explained quietly, making Charles giddy with excitement. Max wanted to court him.
Never in his wildest dreams did it occur to him that he would find someone so interested in him here, out of all places.
“Max… please, lead the way,” Charles whispered, giving Max a beaming smile. Max smiled back, holding Charles’ hand as he led him to the door.
Hand in hand, they walked through the corridors and stairs, until they finally reached the hallway that rang a bell for Charles. It was the hallway with knights, who all stood up straighter as they noticed them, saluting.
“At ease, gentlemen,” Max ordered, his voice suddenly deep and authoritative, nothing like the excited, scratchy voice that cracked every once in a while in which he talked with Charles. This voice carried power.
All the knights standing along the hallways relaxed, back into their previous stances. Charles gave Max a curious look.
“Pretty nice how they listened,” he whispered teasingly, holding Max’s hand firmer as they walked by the knights. He still didn’t feel at ease, his irrational fears returning. They all had unsheathed swords at their left side, the sharp iron glistening in the dark hallway lit only by lanterns. They were from rival nations. The knights could very well kill him if they deemed Charles wasn’t welcome anymore. But, Max too has a weapon, his brain piped up.
It was true.
Max too had a sword, stowed away in a dark brown leather sheath, hanging from a belt. This fact made Charles’ nerves settle down. Max was nice to him, and he would probably protect Charles in case anything happened. He said he wanted to court Charles, to get to know him. That probably includes protection from foreign knights trying to kill him, right?
In case that anyone would be so stupid they broke the precarious peace between the kings.
“It would be pretty bad if they didn’t listen to me,” Max answered, amused.
“Oh, so you are their supervisor? That’s interesting,” Charles wondered out loud as they walked out of the hallway.
“Yes, something like that. I actually pay them,” Max laughed, squeezing Charles’ hand.
“At least king Emilian has nice people running his army,” Charles laughed, turning to Max. Max gave him a little smile, his eyes unreadable as he stopped walking in the middle of the corridor, still firmly holding Charles’ hand.
“Charles, schatje, you know that I am the king, right?” Max said, and for a moment Charles wanted to laugh because it was a pretty good joke, but then Max didn’t laugh and maybe Charles should’ve listened more to his tutors.
“Oh. Are you joking? Tell me you are joking,” he said quickly, fear taking over. Max gave him a crooked smile.
Charles dropped Max’s hand like it burned him. He instantly missed the warmth radiating from the other man’s body.
“Your majesty, apologies for my inappropriate behaviour,” he said, bowing down, words so rushed they were barely recognisable. And here you are, scared of the knights while you behaved so inappropriately with the literal king, Charles thought to himself. Aurevoir peace, never see you again. Aurevoir courting in the library, it was nice to have hope, he thought, shaking. There were tears pushing into his eyes at his stupidity. Maybe he was just a stupid little kid, like Monsieur Binotto always said. Ruining any chance of their kingdoms reaching peace by being a bumbling idiot who was easy for the first pair of pretty eyes that gave him the time of the day.
Warm calloused fingers caught his chin, forcing him to look up, stopping his spiralling.
“Schatje, you did nothing wrong. I am the one who should be apologising to you. I should’ve introduced myself first and not lead you into thinking something else,” Max explained, voice soft. Charles looked at him. A few tears escaped from his eyes during the movement, now soaking into the lace of his mask. There was once again nothing but sincerity written all over Max’s face. “I am very sorry I didn’t tell you when we met,” Max apologised, looking at his feet. Tips of his ears were red.
Charles looked down as well, tentatively reaching out for Max’s hand.
“It’s okay, your majesty. I wasn’t entirely honest with you as well,” he admitted. Max squeezed his fingers, reassuring. “My name is Charles Leclerc, I am king Sebastian’s-“
“Protégé,” Max breathed out, moving closer to Charles. Charles nodded. Max’s proximity was clouding over his senses, overpowering everything else. Charles’ fingers itched to touch the fur on his shoulders, itched to sink into the golden strands and touch the pale skin.
“You have the title of a prince, right?” Max asked, curious.
Charles nodded again. “Yes, but that’s about it. King Sebastian’s daughters are the ones who will rule the kingdom after him. He took me in after my family…” Charles swallowed. He didn’t like talking about what happened back all those years ago. And he met Max just a few hours ago, and however comfortable he felt with the older man, he knew that it was inappropriate to tell him everything. He already embarrassed himself by not recognising the man as a king.
Max hummed.
“I am very sorry for your loss, your highness,” Max rumbled, carefully wrapping his hands around Charles’ shoulders in a hug. Charles sighed, melting into the hug. He let his head rest over Max’s broad shoulder, the soft fur tickling his face.
“Will I still see you tomorrow at the library, your majesty?” Charles whispered, scared to ask while looking into Max’s eyes. Max chuckled.
“I wouldn’t miss a chance to spend more time with -“
“Your highness!” a familiar voice sounded through the corridor, making Charles jump away from Max for a second time, interrupting Max’s words. The king watched, amused, as Charles hastily smoothed down his robes, the golden details on his long sleeves gently clinking with the movement.
Andrea hurried down the corridor, looking stressed more than usual. “Charles, thank God,” he breathed out, stopping next to Charles.
“Andrea,” Charles greeted meekly, because if this suggested anything, he was in for some good old fashioned lecturing.
Andrea gave him a stern look mixed with relief, as he took a deep breath. “Where have you been?! No note, nothing! I have almost turned the castle on its head looking for you!” Andrea exclaimed, arms crossed over his chest. Charles felt his ears burn. “I was meant to be in the library, Andre, but I took a wrong turn and…”
“Cut it Charles, you are already late for our evening class,” Andrea huffed, turning on his heel, totally ignoring Max’s presence as he stormed away. Charles turned to Max, giving him an apologetic smile. Max’s lips were upturned, like he was trying to not laugh.
“Personal tutors, I know,” Max said lowly, straight teeth showing behind his pink lips. Charles nodded.
“Andrea is great, but a bit… stressy,” he admitted. Max nodded.
“I understand. After all, his job must be incredibly hard. Making sure that Monaco’s most beautiful son is safe,” Max smiled, his words making heat spill through Charles’ body.
“Your majesty,” he breathed, looking down. There was something about the way Max said it that made it sound so heavy and significant, that made Charles feel significant, seen. Maybe courting would still be an option? Even after Charles made a fool out of himself?
Max took his hand, gently bringing it to his lips.
“May I see you tomorrow in the library, your highness?” he asked, looking at Charles from under his brows, lips ghosting over Charles’ ringed fingers. Wordless, Charles nodded. Max smiled, pressing his lips to Charles’ knuckles, and after a moment too long to be considered appropriate, let his hand go.
“Tomorrow then, my prince,” the king smiled, and Charles would probably stand rooted at the spot if not for Andrea’s angry shout about late night classes. He gave Max an awkward wave and jogged after his tutor slash friend, face burning and butterflies fluttering in his stomach from more than just the short jog.