Work Text:
“Have you come to a conclusion, sir?”
“Sir? Logan, it’s just me. I think… visually I’m pretty certain it’s not real gold, but I’ve got an easy test to prove my hypothesis,” Remus grinned up at Logan, hoping to see a glimmer of pride in his tutor’s face.
“And what test would that be?” Logan nodded, looking over Remus’ shoulder at his chicken scratch notes. He had gotten pretty adept at deciphering the shimmery green ink, Remus’ favorite, but it didn’t take a trained eye to spot doodled hearts and stars along the margins.
Logan gasped as Remus popped the unknown sample in his mouth.
“Your highness, that is not a safe testing method for unidentified samples!”
Remus broke into his raucous laugh, grabbing the rock back out of his mouth, “tasteless- which doesn’t prove much. But you would have stopped me a lot sooner if it were real gold.”
Logan crossed his arms over his chest, “this is a Geology lesson, not Psychology. Now provide real data and observations to identify the sample.” He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses back up into place as he stepped back from the desk.
Gold trims and accents glittered from every corner of the elegant sitting room, and Logan knew there was even more in the prince’s private chambers. He was certain Prince Remus shouldn’t have trouble discerning between the real thing and other metals. But the young heir needed to learn to trust facts over intuition.
Remus took a moment to stretch before grabbing a streak plate, “real observations, right. It smells… a bit like rotten eggs. Sulfurous. The sample is more crystalline in structure-” he pointed to the cube-shaped grains, “-and a streak test shows.. Dark brown. It’s not gold. It’s pyrite.”
Logan nodded, “correct. Very good work, your highness.”
Remus turned back to face Logan, “why are you being… like the servants today? I don’t like when you talk to me like that, Lo.”
Logan inhaled slowly, “I am sorry, Remus. With the wedding approaching, I figured it would be more appropriate to treat our lessons with the proper due respect and professionalism. It has been an honor to serve you, but soon you will be a ruler in your own right. It would be improper for a servant to address you casually.”
“Servant? But you’re my fr-” Remus was suddenly cut off as the royal secretary burst his way into the room.
“Your highness! We’re nearly late for your fitting. Please, come with me immediately !”
Remus rolled his eyes and stood up straighter as was expected, “yes. Of course. The suit I am just so excited to wear for my forced and arranged marriage.”
“Yes, very good, sir. We must go now,” the secretary gestured toward the door, unfazed by the prince’s sass.
“We can continue our lessons later, Prince Remus,” Logan gave a curt nod, stepping toward the desk to clear away his learning materials.
Remus groaned and grabbed his silver circlet, following the secretary away to the parlor. He fussed with the headdress as they walked the long halls with high arched ceilings, massive tapestries depicting the glories of his ancestry, and more jewel encrusted pieces of finery than he could count (he had tried several times when he was young and ended up getting lost in the servant quarters). He wanted to show off his newly dyed skunk stripe in his hair, hoping it would piss off his father for daring to ruin his hair so close to such a gigantic occasion. It was his protest for the week, and hardly the worst he’d ever done to express his displeasure in the king’s decisions.
Logan had at least seemed amused when he saw it. Remus had enjoyed that smidgen of attention.
Remus was shaken out of his daydreams as they entered the parlor to a flurry of activity, jewels, and fabric. A loudly dressed woman with ostentatious feathers in her hat was regaling the king, not allowing him a single word of response.
“Perhaps your highness would like his own new suit for the occasion? As you know we use only the finest materials. We’re always ready and able to serve the royal family. We produce only the finest at Madame Carp’s Dress Emporium-”
Remus smirked as his father brushed her aside to approach him, the smile quickly wiped from his face at the king’s disapproving look.
“Prince Remus! It is rude to keep anyone waiting, no matter their station. Apologize to Madame Carp, now,” the king gave him a stern look, although he kept his voice even and pleasant toned. Remus could see in his eye that as much as he was mortified by his son’s less than perfect manners, the king was relieved at the excuse to pass the annoyance on.
“Yes father, I beg your forgiveness for my tardiness. And my apologies to Madame Carp for disrespecting her business and time,” Remus replied with an earnest and slightly lopsided grin.
His father looked him up and down, “yes, that’s all well and good. We’ll have lunch after the fitting. Try to behave and stand still, for once.” Remus barely suppressed an annoyed groan as the king turned to leave the parlor.
“But your highness! King Patton, if you please-” Madame Carp sprang forward with unexpected agility.
“Thank you for your services, Madame. Please just make my son look like a royal figure. Thank you,” Patton cut her off with a polite smile and a curt nod before hurrying out of the room.
“Yes, of course, your highness!” the woman called back after him before turning to her employees, “well, come on now- you heard him! And be careful with that cashmere!” She bustled away, barely sparing Remus a glance as she swirled into a bossy storm of instructions.
Remus yawned softly and took his place in front of the triple mirrors, standing on the small podium as a pair of employees took his measurements. This was the third fitting, and with the wedding a week away, hopefully the last one. He didn’t think he’d grown or shrunk all that much in the previous month, but one kept shaking her head at her tape measure, making notes with ferver.
“Do I at least get to try it on today?” Remus asked, trying to make his voice cut through Madame Carp’s shrill tone.
“Oh- yes your highness! We just want to make sure it will fit perfectly, as Madame Carp’s finery always does and always will,” she quickly explained, “in fact, you can go try it on right now. You- go help him put it on!”
Remus winced, not overly excited for a random peasant to see him in his underwear, but dutifully walked over to the large curtains set up for him to change behind. He didn’t notice the tailor that the Madame had ordered to aid him.
The man had definitely noticed him, and was staring openly.
“Go on- do not keep the prince waiting!” Madame Carp barked.
Remus turned to see what was the matter, nearly jumping back in shock.
Who put a mirror in front of the changing curtains?
Then, his reflection gulped and stepped past him behind the curtains.
Shocked, Remus followed, mouth agape.
“Uh, hello, your highness,” the man said meekly, eyes glued to the ground.
“Holy shit! We-”
The man looked up, utterly shocked, and Remus could confirm exactly what he had thought on first impression.
His face was a perfect match for his own.
“Who are you? We- we could be twins!” Remus asked excitedly, forgetting entirely about the wedding suit.
“Please, sir, um… my name is Roman. I- I can’t believe it either- but the madame will yell at me if we take too long,” Roman whispered, gesturing for Remus to start undressing.
“Oh, right- thank you for your help, Roman. I- you look so much like me! I bet you could go out there wearing the suit and fool everyone!” Remus snickered at the idea.
“Do you really think that would work?” Roman asked, shocked at the very idea.
Remus beamed, “yeah, it’ll be so funny- quick!” He started pulling the fine suit from its hangers, “what are you waiting for?”
“It’s illegal to impersonate a royal figure,” Roman replied.
“No one is going to know except us!” Remus argued back, “I mean you don’t have to if you’re that worried, but I would pardon you immediately.”
“You can do that?”
“I’m the crown prince. I can do any- well, almost anything I want,” Remus grinned, “c’mon I want to see their faces!”
Roman hesitated a moment before a grin spread across his face, “let’s do it.” He started to undress quickly down to his undergarments.
Remus bounced on his toes, excited for the prank, and handed Roman the pieces to put on.
“How do I look?”
“Very royal,” Remus grinned, “better get everyone else’s approval.”
Roman nodded and stood up straight, strutting out to the oohs and ahhs of the tailors and royal servants. Remus held his mouth shut tight to not let his glee alert anyone to the swap. He peered through a tiny crack between the changing curtains to watch Roman model the wedding suit.
Roman smiled and tried to look as natural as possible, although his heart was racing. He avoided making eye contact with the other sewists, certain they would catch on if they had even a moment to consider how similar the prince was to their friend.
After a nod of approval from Madame Carp, Roman struggled not to rush back behind the screens.
“That was awesome! I have to invite you back as soon as possible!” Remus whispered while helping Roman back out of the suit.
“Why?” Roman asked, trying to calm his heart rate back to normal.
“To play pranks on my father,” Remus snickered.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Roman shook his head. “I don’t think I could pretend to be royal for that long.”
“Oh you’re a natural. I bet you could be me for a whole day,” Remus beamed at Roman, “I’m telling you, no one could ever tell us apart.”
“Well I don’t want to try that again. You should get back out there.” Roman ushered Remus back toward the curtains.
“I know- I know-” Remus rolled his eyes and strode back out to the crowd, “it fits great! Are we done yet?”
Remus sighed with annoyance as Madame Carp gave him several excuses why he needed to keep trying different suits, even though they had only ordered one. He wasn’t sure why his father kept putting up with her constant upselling bullshit. He just wanted to go back to his lessons.
Remus squealed with delight hearing a soft mrow coming from the door to the parlor. “Kitty Kitty! Come here, come to daddy!” Remus hopped off the podium to the annoyance of the seamstresses, scooping his soft white persian up from the floor and holding him to his chest, “oh, what a good boy! You’re such a good boy!”
“Ugh! Your highness! You’ll get everything covered in cat hair!” Madame Carp shrieked.
Remus waved her off and snuggled his beloved pet, “Emile doesn’t care. He’ll be in the wedding anyway, so cat hair will be the new fashion!”
Roman giggled from the back, fascinated to find the prince just about as chaotic as he’d been rumored to be around the town square.
Madame Carp squawked and pleaded with the prince to put the cat down before its claws snagged the expensive fabrics, and eventually the cat- named Emile, apparently- decided to jump down on his own, settling on a settee to observe the rest of the proceedings.
— — —
“Oh what a nightmare- royals!” Madame Carp griped as her workers loaded everything into their carriage, including assisting her up the step. “Roman! When we get back you will clean every inch of that suit and don’t let me catch that stray in the shop while you do it!”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Roman nodded, still preoccupied thinking about the prince with the same face as him.
“And be careful! We can’t lose the palace’s business,” she barked.
“Yes, Ma’am. I understand,” Roman nodded, watching the palace as the dressmaker’s coach took off, taking him away from his unexpected royal twin.