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Ewen spasmed and hit his knee sharply on the common room table. His friends looked up curiously. “Um, did you guys do the history reading yet?”
Damian glared at the language studies homework in front of him. “I’m saving the best for last.”
“Is it difficult?” asked Emile.
“Not really, it's just…a little shocking.”
“How so?” Damian queried, taking the excuse to put language studies off for a few minutes.
“There was this king of one of the western countries, okay, and he wanted to marry a commoner, but obviously it wasn't allowed, but instead of marrying a princess like he was supposed to, he…”
Damian’s heart thumped traitorously. “He what?”
Ewen’s eyes were saucers. “He stepped down from being king. Said he'd rather live as a commoner with the woman he loved, because that made him feel richer and more powerful than any crown.”
“He did?” Damian swallowed hard.
Emile looked quickly to Damian. “You know what this means, don't you?”
His heart started thumping faster and faster. “I…n-no…I don't know what you're talking about. I could never…” The face of that stupid Forger girl would not leave his mind.
“If something like that happens to Demetrius, you'd be next in line as heir of the Desmond Group!”
Damian’s heart shriveled up and fell to the pit of his stomach. “I don't know if that's how that works.” And I can't see Demetrius falling in love with a commoner…he'd have to be able to have a conversation with one, first. Or…he'd have to have a conversation with her for her to fall in love with him, too. Right? Probably.
“But there's a chance!”
A chance. “Urgh, yeah, I guess, but would any of his friends ever talk to him again?” [Demetrius had no friends that Damian was aware of.] “I mean, w-would any of us talk to each other if one of us fell for…for a commoner?”
The three eyed each other consideringly. “I don't know,” Emile finally said. “I can't imagine it ever happening.”
“Especially for you, Boss Man,” said Ewen. “You've made it super obvious that you hate commoners like Forger.”
He could feel his ears turning red. “What if…what if it was just a…special thing for Forger? I mean, with Forger? I mean, there's probably not another commoner like her, right? They're probably all…you know, different?”
Emile laughed. “You got that right, Boss Man! She's sure ‘special’! They're probably not all so weird and ugly.”
“Right.” Stupid ugly shimmery green eyes and stupid butting into my space and stupid weird pink hair.
“I'm sure commoners will fall for us all the time, though, so we better be ready for it,” said Ewen. “Especially you, Boss Man. The ladies just love you.”
They love Desmond, maybe. But not Damian. His hands fisted. What am I even thinking? There's no difference. I'm a Desmond. I'll always be a Desmond. And that's a good thing. A great thing.
Incongruously, he remembered Mr. Forger scouring the school grounds for the keychain Anya had cried over.
“There's no point worrying about things that won't ever happen,” he snapped. “No commoner family could raise their status enough to mingle in our circles.”
“I don't know. Somehow Forger got into…”
Damian snapped. “Would you shut up about Forger? Like I'd marry Forger in a million years, even if she begged me! Even if she were the last person on Earth!” Ewen and Emile stared at him as he raked his hands through his hair and slammed his elbows onto the table. “I need to study,” he growled.
He pushed his language studies homework to the side and grabbed his history textbook.
Since apparently it wasn't going to be the end-of-study-session reward it usually was.