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"I hope you realise this is a tremendously bad idea."
The girl glared at him and he chuckled. Right, he had forgotten. She probably couldn't care less.
"I'll remind Your Royal Pain in the Ass that if we get caught, I'm the one that will get into trouble. I think you can bear to stay silent for about ten more minutes."
"Apologies, Captain. I will also make sure to submit my new title to my father's appreciation. I think ‘Royal Pain in the ass’ has a nice ring to it."
"Your voice has a nice ring to it. Why don't you preserve it for when we won't risk getting caught?"
He tried, very hard, not to laugh. He failed dramatically.
"Xavier!"
"I cannot help it! You're the one who sneaked into my chambers, yet you act like I'm the mischief maker here. What was so important that you climbed up the wall anyways ?"
She didn't answer, which was probably a good thing since a bunch of eunuchs passed by, probably relieved of their duty by the latest Empress.
Xavier didn't remember her name well and anyways, if she wasn't pregnant within the month, his father would dismiss her. The biggest dream of the Emperor was to have an heir that would follow in his footsteps. Sadly enough for him, he only ever had one that survived past childhood. Xavier. While he had the ruthlessness to kill his mother in childbirth, the young Imperial Prince had always been softer, preferred diplomacy rather than aggressivity, was kind to peasants but strict towards the nobility, and while his sword skills were by far superior those of the Emperor, the latter had decided Xavier didn't have what it took to be a good ruler. Therefore, while getting rid of him right away wasn't an option, having a real plethora — because saying a collection would be dehumanising — of concubines and wives in hope one of them would birth his providential replacement seemed to be the way the Emperor had chosen. The latest ones were younger than Xavier himself.
In addition to that, he had reduced his son's private guard over time, his reasoning being that if the Imperial Prince was this skilled with a sword, he might as well use it himself. As time went on, only one guard had been assigned to Xavier's protection.
And that was how he met the Captain. Daughter of an illustrious warlord, relatively highborn, the only issue people could find in her was that she was a woman. Seeing as he could not publicly dishonour the family of one of his late trusted advisors, and, to be blunt, that everyone assumed the girl to be homely in a way that made her unfit to join the Imperial Harem, a letter had been sent to her, informing her that she had been given the rank of Captain, and that she would be tasked to protect the Imperial Crown Prince.
That way, if anything happened to Xavier, no blame would befall on his father. A clever scheme , if the Prince had ever seen one.
The Emperor probably hadn't thought they would fall in love. Hidden behind a mask, at first, Xavier and the Captain had few conversations. Then a concubine birthed a son. The following night, Xavier had woken up to the sight of bodies on the floor of his chambers, the Captain cleaning the blood off of her blade, and her mask on the ground. Xavier wasn't as shallow as his father, so the ethereal beauty in front of him, covered in crimson moonlight, only made his heart skip a beat when she asked him, with a smile that could make empires fall, if he wanted to breathe somewhere else. "Oh, stupid me," she had said, "Your Highness probably knows better than me how to sneak out to town to play the hero so that no one here can be the wiser, right?"
He had looked at her rather stupidly as she laid out before him that he had never been able to fool her.
"You didn't stop me?"
"My job is to keep an eye on you, not to keep you locked in. Plus, the townsfolk like you. They say you're a young god of the light."
"Do you believe them?"
"No. Gods do not love humans like that."
It was like she had planted an arrow in his heart, and suddenly he knew why love required poetry and tales to be properly understood. When he visited the town now, she tagged along, unknowingly making herself a regular. And, little by little, her smile carved itself in his heart, to the point he saw it the moment he closed his eyes.
The first kisses, the first touches, the first rustles of fabric on the ground, the first pains, the first gasps. He had dreamt of it for so long that when they happened, he felt like an old man waiting for many lifetimes to finally be a part of her, just like she was a part of him, the very air he breathed. A taste of freedom in a life where he was meant to die. It didn't matter if they managed to kill him, for nestled in the most intimate of her secrets, salvation seemed to hide.
She was right. Gods did not love humans like that.
The infant prince died. A stupid accident, his exhausted mother falling asleep while she was nursing him. Xavier was tempted to curse his fate and how the throne seemed unavoidable. He could reign if needed, he knew he could, but he longed for simpler problems. He wanted to marry his captain. Hiding under the moonlight was becoming as unbearable as the stuffy air in the throne and dining rooms.
Which was why tonight, when he complained, she got up from his embrace, put her clothes back on — an utter shame, really —, and with a dangerous glint in her eyes, asked him if he wanted to go to town. Any other day, he would not have hesitated. But today marked the end of the mourning period for the infant prince, which meant that a new group of noble ladies from all over the empire had been brought up so the Emperor could choose one of them. All of them had, obviously, come well guarded, much better anyways than he was himself. And of course, before the sun had set, a new Empress had been crowned, barely in her teenage years. The Imperial physicians had assured the Emperor that there was no issue in bedding her that young, therefore the old ruler had chosen her over all of the others. But those young ladies did not have much to fear: the richest and prettiest of them would still end up in the Imperial bed.
The Captain, however, had insisted, saying he needed to pull his mind out of the gutter, and Xavier couldn't resist her. He couldn't resist teasing her, too, eliciting frustrated groans and furrowed brows from her, that he absolutely adored to see. Since she only removed her mask when they were alone or when they sneaked to town, he didn't get to see much of her expressions otherwise.
When they finally managed to go past the walls unnoticed, she removed the piece of fabric from her face, letting the warm lights of the street candles illuminate her features. He reached out, tracing them tenderly, just like he did behind closed doors.
"Xavier…"
"You are so beautiful. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head to make you think I am even close to good enough for you."
"Keep wondering, because I am not telling you such obvious things. Any woman could see it. Did you not see the way those noble ladies looked at you when they presented themselves to your father ?"
"It really does not mean anything. I'm closer in age to them than he is. I seem to be the lesser of two evils."
He started walking towards the bustling city center, festivities still in full blast this well into the night.
"Don't say you're evil. You're worth much more than him."
"Careful, my darling Captain. That's treason."
"I am serious. Why do you say you're evil ?"
"I would be a terrible husband to them. I only have eyes for you, so I don't know what's better."
She did not answer, maybe because she didn't have anything to retort, and simply walked faster towards the city. As usual, beggars gathered on the outskirts of the center, forbidden by their poverty to participate in any kind of joy, lest they ate at the same buffet as everyone else. Xavier, as usual, gave each of them a heavy pouch of coin, promising himself in his mind to do more once he'd be back to the palace. He had to stay discreet so that no one suspected his outings. When he was in town, he pretended to merely be a rich traveling nobleman. It was close enough to the truth that no one suspected much.
"Come now, they're making lanterns!"
Xavier let himself be dragged by the hand towards the lanterns, weaving through a sea of people who barely paid attention to them.
"Aren't those lanterns well-wishes for the new Empress ?"
"And for the Imperial family. So… I'm making one for you."
She smiled at him like he hung the stars in the night sky. He took a lantern, just like her, writing his wish carefully.
"Who are you wishing for?", she asked when she was done with her own words.
"You."
She chuckled, before realising he was completely serious.
"I am not part of the Imperial family."
"Yet."
This time, he knew that she didn't say anything because he rendered her speechless, her adorable cheeks reddening like cherries, her mouth opening and closing in a gesture that was all the invitation Xavier needed. He grabbed her waist and kissed her, open-mouthed and completely unbothered by the fact some townspeople could be staring. He didn't mind if they were looking. After a while, she gently pushed him away, breathless, and even redder than before, but with a smile crinkling at the corners of her eyes. She only ever pretended to push him away, though, since she always put her hands on him right after, clinging to him like a lifeline. Simple feelings, simple love, simple affection. Easy gestures that flowed like a mountain spring. This was the only part of his life he wouldn't trade for anything.
As the festivities died down, the two of them slipped away from the lingering crowd towards small streets where the light barely touched the ground. The smiling moon above them seemed to approve of their silent walk away from their life. A remainder of peace before they had to go back.
"No one to save today, it seems." she mused.
He kept silent. He knew she could still be wrong. The weight of the fabric mask he carried wherever he was out seemed to drag him to the ground sometimes, but even the darkest of nights would come to an end.
"Race you!" she laughed.
He smiled as she started running.
When she reached the street corner, she turned around, flashing him a cheeky grin, just to taunt him with how fast she was. He bore it deep inside his mind. When they would reach the inside, she'd wear the mask again, but for now, it was safely tucked in his pocket.
Behind that corner the palace stood, and she was right to smile at him, for each time he went beyond these walls, he struggled to come back. He watched her disappear with her inviting eyes beckoning him closer.
Everything blurred.
A shout. An order, even.
The loud marching of soldiers.
Her indignant shout.
His feet rushing to motion.
Helplessly seeing her dragged within the palace walls by four guards who struggled against her painful kicks.
But, trained as she was, she couldn't do much by herself against four men when she, herself, didn't carry any weapon at the moment.
He didn't run fast enough to reach her.
The stillness of the night and its sudden darkness settled over Xavier as he processed what had just happened. He didn't wait, though, running towards a hole into the palace walls that he used frequently enough to reach it without thinking. He rushed towards the guards’ door and knocked, demanding to be told what had just happened. The young man who answered him seemed a little stunned, used to the gentle composure of the Prince and not to this sudden assertiveness that bled out of his words.
"It was nothing much, your Highness. We just caught a concubine escaping. She was a little feisty. How unbecoming of her status. She should be grateful."
The word "concubine" drew bile straight into his throat. Just thinking about it was enough to make him nauseous. Xavier shook his head. He could make this right. He knew it.
“That was not a runaway concubine. You just manhandled the Captain," he explained with as much calm as he could muster. "See that she is being called back from the Imperial Harem at once."
The guard paled.
"Your Highness, we…"
"You?"
"The sun has set. She cannot leave the Harem. No one can."
Xavier almost cursed. He had forgotten that dreadful part of the protocol. Realising he would spend the night alone without her was already a strain on his otherwise controlled emotions.
"We can temporarily assign other guards to replace her for tonight, until tomorrow morning."
Xavier was tempted to say he didn't want them, but no one could know the real reasoning for his anger. So, he simply nodded curtly, and in a voice so cold he himself could hear the frostbite, ordered that the Captain would be brought to him first thing in the morning.
He didn't sleep a wink that night. It was dreadful to be without her. It didn't help he couldn't know if she was alright and her mask rested in his palms. For some reason, her face being exposed within the palace walls made him anxious. Her absence, on the other hand, felt like his lungs were full of murky waters that he had accidentally swallowed.
In the morning, she wasn't there.
In her place, the apologetic and downright terrified guard from the day before stood, like an ill omen. Xavier's stomach fell to his knees.
"Where is she?"
Nothing else.
"Your Highness, His Majesty…" started the guard.
He didn't need to say more, his fear and Xavier's dark expression probably urging him to stop before the Imperial Prince used his glistening sword on his throat.
Of course, his philanderer of a father would do that. Upon realising how beautiful she was, it didn't matter that he had made her a Captain, and it certainly did not matter that she belonged to Xavier. Anything beautiful had to belong to the old emperor.
Usually, Xavier didn't fight his father over this, but this time was different. First of all, she would never accept to become a concubine. Much less one to the Emperor, whom she resented about as much as said Emperor resented Xavier. She would fight. And she would be executed for it. And it still would not protect her from the old man's "favors". If he wanted her, he would take her. Her wants and needs mattered very little compared to his.
And second, she was Xavier's. He wasn't really that possessive of anything else, but she was different; she had given all of herself to him, and in return, he had given to her the only thing he really possessed: his heart, his soul, his love. He had become hers, and she was his , not because his father had decided it, but because Xavier had earned it.
He wouldn't allow anyone to believe otherwise.
He turned to the guard, his posture straight as cold steel as he stared him down.
"Tell my father I'm requesting an immediate audience in the throne room. Tell him it's of the utmost importance, and stress that I request him to come alone, without any guards, seeing as I now have none myself."
"Yes, your Highness.”
"Another thing. Even if he screams…My father and I are not to be interrupted. Am I making myself clear?”
The guard hesitated. One second. Then he bowed.
"Of course, your Highness."
He slipped away.
Wise coward, that one.
Usually, Xavier made sure his sword was both dull enough to not seriously harm his sparring partners, and sharp enough that it wasn't completely useless. He had learnt long ago how to control this parameter, since the swordsmith liked him enough to teach him.
Today, he made sure the sword was sharp enough to cut paper.
It barely took him a minute. It had been enough, though, for him to think deeply about what that blade would cut through today. Today, he would put an end to all of this.
Could he have done it earlier? Maybe. Maybe it said something about him, that he had not. Maybe it did. He could not say he cared much, however. His limits had been crossed ten times over, and today, his father had trampled on them.
He would put an end to it.
He would make him pay.
The wait for his father felt like an eternity and at the same time, when the double doors of the lavish throne room opened, Xavier only felt somewhat ready. A lingering part of him, the child in him, still hoped something could change between them, that his father could be a decent one instead of this cold and cruel king who saw him as a flawed possession. But the Emperor did not love him. Yet, he did not possess him either.
He had everything, but he couldn't possess his son. He had everything, but he wanted the only person Xavier had, and he would treat her like he did everything and everyone, to be used as he saw fit.
The fire in his heart came back, raging hot, red, impossible to tame or to cool down. Yet, in the depths of his anger, a weird surge of calm engulfed him.
"I hope you have good reasons to be sitting on my throne."
The cold, unyielding voice of the Emperor resonated through the throne room. Xavier lifted his blue gaze on him, resting his elbows on the armrests of the royal seat as if he owned it.
"Your throne? Father, it stopped being yours the moment you stepped in this room."
The Emperor scoffed, at first. Then, anger overtook his features, followed by the dreadful realisation Xavier's sword was naked, out of its scabbard. Fear etched itself in the corners of the old King's eyes, but arrogance still tainted the depths of his gaze. He turned around, tried to push the doors open, but they remained closed.
"Guards!"
"Do not bother, Father. Your guards will not listen."
"You're making a grave mistake, son. This is treason. The Gods will not forgive you for this."
"Funny that you don't even ask what drew me to this. I take it you know."
"You hid her well, but in an Empire, nothing belongs to you, Xavier. I would have known."
"You could have chosen to close your eyes. You could have chosen to let me have something. You could have made different choices for the sake of your son, and instead of that, you want to have all that is mine, down to the birthright you can't even steal. This has to end, Father. You can not, and you will not, have her. Actually, you will no longer have anything of mine. You should not have laid your eyes on my lover. And I will not let you lay a hand on her."
"This is the prerogative of a ruler, Xavier. I am a god. I can have everything I want."
"It seems that today, you want death. Worry not, Father, my filial piety will bring it to you."
The Emperor started a pitiful retort before Xavier got up from the throne, towering over his father from the dais, looking every bit like the ruler he didn't want his son to be.
"If I remember correctly, Father, you thought I was too gentle and soft to succeed you."
With a deliberate slowness, he walked towards the Emperor, casually testing the sharpness of his blade on his gloved hands. Its familiar weight grounded him in the reality of what he was about to do. Weirdly enough though, it didn't make him hesitate. When his fingers wrapped around the hilt, when his wrist flicked the blade around, when his arm straightened, when he pressed the tip of the blade underneath the chin of the old king, he was so ready to end it all he was practically buzzing.
"Am I being too gentle now, Father? Would you prefer me to kill you with more brutality? Everything your heart wants, ask it of me. I'm but a young god. I'll grant your wishes."
"Guards!" Desperately, pinned against the door by the gleaming blade, the Emperor called upon his last hope.
"Do you really think they like you enough to respond now, Father ? A piece of advice from your loving son: you should have been gentle with them."
When she barged into the throne room, silence had set in it for what felt like hours. Staring at his reflection in the bloodied blade, he didn't dare to raise his gaze howards her until she hooked a finger under his chin to make him stare into her disbelieving eyes.
"They told me. I didn't believe them, but… Gods above, Xavier, what have you done? "
"Do I disgust you now?"
"Never. I'm more worried about what you have done to yourself."
"I couldn't let him touch you. I would have yielded everything if he had asked, but not you. What does that say of me?"
"I've never been over killing for you. So I guess it makes us the same."
She was beautiful. Of course, the harem had her prepared to please the old king, so her beauty had been highlighted to be incandescent, forbidden. He could not bring himself to touch her as the sunlight revealed the bloodstains on his clothes and on the floor.
"The King is dead," she whispered."Long live the King."
"I am no king."
"You are mine. Isn't it all that matters ?"
He had bitten on his lip out of guilt, stress, anger and grief. She healed the bite with her own, and for only a moment, reminded her of why he was sitting there, on that chair that felt like another prison more than a symbol of his newfound power.
"Was it worth it, Xavier?"
"Don't you dare question your own worth in front of me. I would raise an army and explore the confines of the universe if it meant saving you, if it meant we have one more chance."
She held him, as if he had a right to be comforted.
"This throne is nothing but another prison."
Should he marry her, she would be an empress, not a warrior. And if he didn't marry her, he would be asked for heirs anyway. Just as he was ready to fall into more depressing thoughts, she brought him back yet again.
"You're a young god. The world is yours. You can do whatever you want."
“I don't want to be a god. You said gods didn't love humans like that. Where are you, in all of this?”
She kissed him again, feverish and oh, so sincere. She didn't need to speak at all. He knew what she meant. No matter the world he would choose to belong to, she would be by his side. A goddess when he'd be a god, pleading for charity when he'd be a beggar.
"I hope you realise this is a tremendously bad idea.”
"I'll remind your Royal Pain in the Ass that he chose me, which means he can keep silent about my choices.”
So he did. Because she was his light in the dark, and he didn't feel like complaining about a choice she made of staying with him no matter the circumstances. He was far too happy she was there.
She smiled at him. He smiled back.
Maybe gods did love humans like that.