Chapter Text
It was that weird sickness again. The one which he hadn't told a soul about. He hadn't spoken about the dark, cloudy feeling in his mind nor had he talked about the pain with anyone.
The pain. It wasn't really pain if he was honest- it didn't hurt physically, only mentally. The physical aspect of it was more a feeling of discomfort than it was pain, but despite that, it hurt.
There was no pain, but it hurt.
How would he even begin to explain that to anyone! No one could possibly understand, especially with that oh-so-very eloquent of an explanation. And, if someone miraculously did understand his problem, Leone would have to ask them to explain it to him because he himself had no idea what was wrong with him.
Or rather he didn't want to know what was wrong with him.
He was very scared. He hadn't had a single doctor take a look at him, or even informed his father that he wasn't keeping well. He didn't let anyone suspect that he was anything less than perfect. He couldn't let them know. The issue was that he had a suspicion on what was wrong with him, in a broad sense at least. His deduction was that his illness was one of the mind. That he was going crazy. If word spread that heir to the throne of Neopolis was mentally unstable- Hell, if his father ever found out.........He didn't want to think about what would happen. If he visited a doctor and his abnormality got recognised, then he would be done for. So, he hid from the world. From himself. He'd been doing it all his life. He lied to himself and pretended that he was happy. At balls, he'd chat with the lords about politics and pretty women. At home, he'd sit in his room and write poetry, or discuss political affairs with his father if he was available. He'd laugh when jokes were cracked and cry at a sad scene in a play. He'd pretend he was normal.
He had a good life, so far. He had power and privilege. He had a good face too! He had friends, and women who wanted him. His life was one people dreamed to have. Then why, why did he feel so miserable? What was wrong with him? Why did he have to pretend to be normal when that's what he should be? Mental illness was not meant for the likes of him. It wasn't fair. He should be perfect, a fair and just ruler who was not riddled with such thoughts.
Why him?
Leone sighed. He should really be used to it by now, being miserable that is. It had been a few years since he fell ill, yet the darkness never dulled, but instead suddenly spiked on occasion. Right then seemed to be one of those dreaded occasions.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, hugging his chest, trying not to cry. Not crying was difficult though, when it felt like a thousand rats were gnawing at his chest from the inside, but then again, it wasn't painful. It was just uncomfortable. He knew it was nothing physical that was the issue as there was no pain, and one could not die from a mental illness, so he didn't fear that he was going to die, but, in that moment, he decided that some things are worse than death and this horrible feeling was on the list.
He tried to get up and go for a walk in the garden, thinking that some fresh air would do him good, but he couldn't move. The dark feeling was paralyzing.
So instead, he decided that sleep was his best bet on escaping the rats in his chest. It was still quite early for bed but he was sure no one would mind if he skipped dinner for a day. He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. Tossing and turning, he tried to comfort himself by rubbing circles on his chest. Finally, after fifteen whole minutes, tiredness overpowered the discomfort and the prince drifted off into slumber.
He didn't normally have dreams, or at least he never remembered the dreams he had.
Today though, he did have dreams, and he remembered them after he woke up too.
He dreamt of a memory from his younger days.
Leone was suddenly fourteen again, wandering the town under a disguise.
His current-self vaguely remembered this day and watched as it was recreated in his dream.
The younger Leone had thought it would be amusing to go under the guise of a girl that day. His voice had only just begun to crack, so if he tried, he could sound pretty feminine, and he already had to wear a mask covering his features as part of his disguise.
He was walking through the streets in commoner's clothing, looking around curiously at what the people were doing, when he was approached by a trio of boys looking around his age. Leone thought that they looked the type to be troublesome, and it turned out they were.
"May I help you in any way?" Leone asked politely.
The three stopped in front of him and grinned. "Well yes you may!" one the boys started. "You must have some money on you, no? Perhaps you were out to buy vegetables?"
Leone didn't answer, and that seemed to irritate the boys.
"Now, I understand that you need to buy vegetables to cook but you see woman, I'm sure that we need your money more than you do." the tallest of the lot said extending his hand expectantly.
"And what exactly do you need my money for?" Leone asked ignoring the gesture.
"Well, if you must know, my friend here got his heart broken today, and they say if you have enough watered wine, your problems are forgotten! We'd personally like to test that theory, but we don't have the funds. Or we didn't have them until we ran into you." The boy's irritation was starting to seep into his voice and his arm was still extended in Leone's direction.
Ah. So that's why they wanted money.
"Sorry, but I refuse. Drinking is not the way to cope with your troubles boys. Be real men now and stop harassing maidens on the street just so you can get intoxicated." He made to walk away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"A pretty girl like you should know to obey well, no?"
Leone wasn't scared, but he was irritated. He knew he could take all of them on if he wanted to, but knew better than to start a fight. Fighting would draw too much attention and people might recognise him. He decided the best way out of the situation was to just hand over his money and let these boys get their way. Honestly, it's not like he didn't have money to spare. He began to reach for his purse when yet another boy showed up, approaching Leone and stopping by his side. This newcomer was quite scrawny and short, with roundish features, a contrast Leone's own sharp ones.
"Now boys, I hope you weren't trying to rob an innocent person, were you?" he said, facing the three guys who were bothering Leone.
Leone noted his voice was pretty high pitched, which was odd considering that they seemed to be around the same age. He decided that he liked it though. It sounded sweet, and most certainly not intimidating. It sounded like he was playfully teasing the other three, as one would with a friend. So, Leone was quite surprised when, the boys harassing Leone immediately ran away from this new arrival, without even trying to pick a fight with him. It was quite amusing to see how their eyes widened and they turned and sprinted away as if their lives depended on it.
Leone looked over to him curiously. What about this boy could have scared the trio so badly? He honestly didn't look like much. He was pretty small for a teenage boy and didn't look very strong. Perhaps the boy's father was a scary man in the town? Lost in thought, he didn't realize he was staring until the boy looked back at him and smiled, speaking in that oh-so-sweet voice again. "You're not running away from me. Are you not from this town?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.
Leone looked at him confused. "What-" he remembered to change the pitch of his voice. "Ahem, what do you mean? Why would I run away from the man who just saved me from giving up my money?"
The boy laughed. It was a nice sound, Leone thought. "So you are an outsider then." He said, not answering Leone's question at all.
"Why would one run away from you?" Leone asked again.
"Ah!" the boy said, raising both his eyebrows. "Well that's simply because I'm cursed." He stated, as if he was just speaking of something as mundane as the weather. "The people of this town think I'm some sort of a devil's spawn on earth. I'm actually pretty infamous around here. Mothers tell their children to beware of me in this town." he said laughing without humour. Leone didn't like hearing that laugh. It sounded sad. "Although don't worry, they're all lies." He added after seeing Leone's expression.
Leone should probably have left. He should not be interacting with a boy that people said were cursed. Yet for some reason, he believed him when he said that the people were liars. So instead of leaving the boy's company, he said "I don't think someone as charming as you could be cursed." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Obviously, Leone was simply playing the part of a damsel saved by this boy. Though he did honestly believe that this boy most certainly wasn't cursed.
"I agree. But unfortunately, we're the only ones here who think that. That's why I plan on moving to a different kingdom when I'm older, starting a new life surrounded by new people, people like you, who think I'm charming." He winked "It's actually my dream to be a knight someday, but I don't have that opportunity in this kingdom. I dream of a place where everyone knows I'm normal. And this place, sadly lies centuries in the future when we humans have advanced as a species. So, I suppose I'll settle for starting afresh in a new kingdom where no one knows my past."
Leone just stared at him speechless. He had no idea why the boy decided to share all that with him but for some reason, he wished the best for him. Although he was curious as to why people thought he was cursed and why he couldn't become a knight in Neopolis, he thought it might be rude to ask, so he simply said, "I hope your dream comes true. Something tells me you deserve it." And he actually meant it.
"Thank you," the boy said, then after a second of thought added "Princess." With a knowing smirk, bowing slightly.
Now that really caught Leone off guard. "Wha-how? Huh?" he couldn't seem to say anything more coherent.
The boy simply chuckled and whispered "You're wearing a pretty expensive looking ring. You should keep it safer if you don't want it stolen."
"I- how'd you know I wasn't a noble then?" Leone argued, dropping his fake voice. Expensive jewellery was not exclusive to royalty.
The boy gave Leone a look that said 'Do you think I'm stupid?' "Why would a noble dress as a commoner and make small talk with the cursed?"
Leone had to agree that the boy's deduction made sense and was of course accurate.
"Aren't you scared? Now that you know who I am? Don't you think you're acting to friendly?" Leone questioned, regaining his composure, straightening himself a little. This commoner boy was joking with him, calling him princess knowing that he was the prince of the kingdom.
"Well that wouldn't be fair to you would it? Since you weren't scared of me, I ought to return the favour. Unless of course, you think I'm over stepping my boundaries." He bowed again. "My princess."
Leone thought he was going to die. Right then and there. He could feel every drop of blood in his body flow straight to his face. He was probably redder than a beet, and surprisingly not out of anger. He was flustered. Leone was actually flustered!
The boy, upon seeing Leone move his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to find words, made a face of realisation, mouth forming a small O. He proceeded to smile and exclaim loud enough for passer- byers to hear "Well hope you have a good day then madam!" and jogged away, smiling waving at Leone.
Leone just stood there and watched the boy get further away.
And then in hit him.
He didn't know the boy's name! He had to ask for his name. He didn't know why, but knowing who this boy was, was a necessity.
"Wait! Knight-boy!" he yelled. The boy stopped and turned around, an eyebrow raised. "I didn't get your name!" he asked, cheeks still read from the boy's earlier comment.
"Bucciarati." Came the smug response.
"Bruno Bucciarati."
With one last smile in Leone's direction, Bruno ran off, and then the dream shifted.
Leone was now his current age in a dark room, wearing the same outfit he wore the day he met Bruno, but this time there was no disguise- Just the dress. A spotlight shown on him, the only light in the void that Leone found himself in. Suddenly, all that mattered, was that he was in a dress. He didn't care where he was or if he was in danger. Just that the dress he was wearing, although not one of his status, was really pretty. There was a mirror in front of him. He just noticed it- perhaps it had appeared just then. He walked up to it and looked at his reflection. He really needed to see what he looked like.
He simply stared at his reflection. He felt like he was looking at himself for the first time, as if his reflection had never shown who he was inside before. He looked- pretty and he like it. Twirling around experimentally, he smiled. Leone liked what he looked like. He felt true to himself, something he had never felt before. He felt different then he did in real life. Dream Leone was much happier.
But as he stood grinning in front of the mirror, his rationality started seeping into his dream world.
"Proving ourselves right are we now? Freak. Turns out the one with a curse was you, not that Bucciarati. You liked it when he called you a princess didn't you? When he called you a woman? Are you a woman Leone? No, I'll tell you what you are- Mentally ill. You're a mentally ill man who thinks he's a woman and wants to dress like one." A voice echoed throughout the darkness, one that Leone recognised to be his own.
"You're a pathetic freak who pretends to be normal. You're a fake Leone. You disgust me!"
In that moment, he felt so scared. He clawed at the dress, suddenly hating it but, but needing it at the same time. When he wore the dress, he felt good. He hadn't felt that good in a long time. But accepting that meant accepting that he was abnormal, which while he had suspected, was still a hard pill to swallow. He felt tears running down his face. He didn't know what to do, or what he wanted.
Something unlocked itself inside his heart right then. He realized that fighting it was useless. This was real. He was cursed. But then again, maybe that was a good thing. Maybe accepting and understanding his problem would help him find a cure. No, not maybe- he would cure himself for sure. He had to.
He watched as his dream shifted yet again and he found himself looking older, sitting on a throne wearing a king's crown. It was an image that faded away, and when it did, he woke up.
Alright so he was definitely sick in the head. But that was okay, because if he remembered correctly, he had a trip to make soon. One that might just cure him! He was to go to a small, nearby kingdom to try and court the princess today. He believed that loving a woman (like he was supposed too) would fix him. Perhaps if they married, he would grow out of this foolish insanity.
He checked the pocket watch lying on his bedside table for the time. It was 7:00a.m. on the day after he fell asleep.
He forced himself out of bed and to the dining hall where he ate a light breakfast as the servants prepared his bath.
This was going to work. He was going to meet the princess and they would fall in love and Leone would instinctively assume the role of a man when he has a woman to be responsible for.
He ate his food and went to his bath, undressing and climbing into the warm water. He sat there till his fingers pruned up, thinking of whether this lady could fix him, or if he'd love her, even. This wouldn't work if he didn't love her.
No, this was no time for such pessimistic thinking. Everything was going to be fine.
He washed and dried himself, dressing himself in formal clothes, putting on a lavish embellished tunic and his fanciest cloak. Pulling on his leggings, he looked at his outfit in the mirror. He patted down his clothes and smiled. He thought he looked quite perfect. He needed to look his best for this. He needed the princess to love him.
Giving his reflection a final glance, he followed the servant carrying his luggage and climbed into his carriage, while the servant loaded up a second carriage. Waving goodbye to his father, he prayed to God that the princess was loveable.
The horse drawn vehicle left for the destination.
"Please god let her be my bride!"