Chapter Text
“You probably won’t become truly happy until you’re old and gray.”
“What kind of curse is that?”
“No matter what you do, you’ll never be completely satisfied. You’ll be that annoying prince who chases victory forever.”
Tooru laughed, that lilt of a thing accompanied by a smile equal parts charming and deadly. “And what of you, then? You swore to be at my side until the end. What will that make you?”
***
The Golden Palace was several stories tall and seated at the top of a large hill with hundreds of winding steps leading up to its gilded doors. The steps were said to be in a defensive deterrent, but Iwaizumi felt as if the only thing they deterred were the peasants who could not make it to the palace to complain.
On the first of every month, the palace opened its doors so the common people could list their grievances. Anything ranging from bad crops to taxation complaints to disturbances in villages. There was usually only a handful of people willing and able to ascend the steps, making the meetings short and rather uneventful.
Iwaizumi stood, his hand on his sword, standing next to Prince Ushijima. Prince Kageyama was supposed to be there as well, but he was missing from the lineup, as he had been most months recently.
Iwaizumi sighed, but he knew it wasn’t his place, and so he held his tongue.
“Well, you see, it’s, well, the fields, you see, and—”
“Please get to the point,” Ushijima said.
The frail farmer before him, soaked in sweat from the trek, sputtered. “Something has been eating my crops!”
“Every year, there are a variety of animals that feast on crops. Please ensure that you have the proper fencing and repellants.”
“It’s not like that!” the farmer said, his old voice straining. “I’ve been a farmer fer sixty years now, and I’ve never seen anythin’ like this here! Somethin’s eating them all, right down to the root! If I don’t get enough for the harvest, I won’t get enough to pay my taxes! You hafta do something, it ain’t natural what’s happening.”
“Please follow up with your local officials.”
“They said they couldn’t do anything! I know you ain’t our prince, but—”
Ushijima stood suddenly, and the man shrunk back. Before Ushijima could say anything, Iwaizumi stepped in.
“I will take a look, Your Highness,” he said.
“You’re on duty.”
“On my own time,” he said.
Ushijima narrowed his eyes, and then he sat back down and waved away the topic and the farmer with a nod.
“That’s settled,” he said. “Bring in the next person. Quickly.”
There was some shuffling, some commotion in the back of the court, and whispers flew among the people lining the walls. No one was brought in.
Iwaizumi could see the dip in Ushijima’s eyebrows. The prince had never liked these meetings, and he hated more when they ran long.
“What is the problem?” he said.
“It’s…not a commoner,” Kindaichi, a junior knight relayed to them in a hushed voice. “It’s some person we haven’t seen before—the guards are vetting him.”
If Iwaizumi had to give some praise to Prince Ushijima, it would be that the Great White Swan was not afraid of anything, or of anyone. It was arrogant, but then again, he had never once lost a battle.
Even when he should have.
“Bring him in,” Ushijima stilled.
Kindaichi nodded and hurried to the door, and Iwaizumi clenched his hand around his sword, just in case.
The doors parted, and the whispering stopped.
In walked the second most beautiful man Iwaizumi had ever seen.
And ‘beautiful’ was the word. He was handsome, yes, with a sharp turn of his jaw and cut cheekbones, but there was an unmistakable beauty to his features. Half soft and half hard in a combination Iwaizumi had only seen once before. Long brown hair fell down his back in layered tufts. His robes were adorned with the patterns of leaves, and red and blue ornaments pinned back a section of his hair. A long tasseled earring hung from his ear. And his eyes—a brown that caught the light and shone like honey, accented by a red line of makeup underneath. They teased, half playful and half threatening, but completely captivating.
He was so striking it was hard to draw one’s gaze away. Hard to even think.
Clearly, people in the court felt the same, because they were all watching with a certain rapturous silence, waiting for him to speak. He strode down the hall with a confidence most did not have in the wake of the White Swan.
Another man walked slightly behind him. His black hair was pulled into a scraggly ponytail, and long fringe covered his right eye. He walked with his hands behind his back, wearing a smile that made Iwaizumi tighten his grip on his sword.
The other, though, smiled softly, almost ethereally. When he reached the edge of the court, he did not bow. He just gave a short nod that seemed more directed to the court itself rather than the prince, which made Ushijima’s eyes narrow further.
“Speak your name and business,” Ushijima said.
“I am Aoba Hiroto,” he said. He made no mention of the man to his side, who didn’t seem in the least bit offended by this slight. “I am your new Senior Advisor.”
Ushijima’s eyes narrowed. “I have no need for such a thing. The position is filled.”
Aoba did not so much as pause. “I come from a far-off land, but I have spent quite some time here in your kingdom. Well, in this kingdom,” he said. “Yours is across the water, isn’t it?”
Ushijima narrowed his eyes, and the court began to whisper again.
It was a certain point of contention that the prince of White Valley had taken permanent residence in Seijoh until the ailing king deemed Prince Kageyama fit to rule. After…
Well. Kageyama was still unfit to rule, so as a show of faith between their two kingdoms, Ushijima was brought in. Some considered him a savior. Some thought it was giving the enemy everything to the kingdom.
It did not matter what Iwaizumi thought.
“My place is here,” Ushijima said. “And it seems clear that you have nothing of worth to offer—”
“Tsk.”
Iwaizumi flinched so hard Ushijima even glanced at him. He swallowed, shaking his head. Aoba had only clicked his tongue, but something about it had transported him back years, to another who had that habit.
“The kingdom of Seijoh is strong under your thumb,” Aoba said. “Combined with White Valley, its power is doubled.”
Iwaizumi and Ushijima were on a small platform, but even though he was below them, Aoba had tilted his head back and was managing to look down his nose at them.
“But that’s all it is, isn’t it. You’ve had this kingdom for years, and yet even you have never been able to expand its land or trading power past the edges of the Grave Canyon. You’ve grown stagnant, even with all your power.”
Iwaizumi could feel the shift in the room as the whispers began, half in defendant anger, and half in interest.
“And now monsters have befallen your very people, and you aren’t willing to even look into what is damaging their crops—”
“Enough,” Ushijima said. “I will not have a stranger insult me in my own court. Leave at once, or you will be made to do so.”
Aoba sighed with an extravagant drop of his shoulders.
“Very well, then.” He snapped his fingers, and out of thin air, a man appeared.
M-magic? Iwaizumi drew his sword out of instinct, and the crowd erupted into gasps and a few errant screams.
“What is this?” Ushijima said.
“A present,” Hiroto said. “From your new Senior Advisor.”
Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the man, suspended in midair and rotating slightly, his fists banging uselessly against the air he was trapped in. He recognized him. It was the man whose face was plastered on the front of every tavern door, whose bounty was worth more than what Iwaizumi made in a year.
Mad Dog.
“It wasn’t even hard to subdue him,” Aoba said, and he smiled with a sweet curve of his lips and a look in his eye that sent a shiver down Iwaizumi’s spine. “Hear me out. I’m sure you’ll find I can be of great use to you, Prince.”