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"And here we have the filtration system — I'm sure you'd been wondering how the castle is able to have fresh air when spending indefinite amounts of time under the ground—"
"Oh, sure," Locke said. "Definitely my biggest question about this whole thing."
Edgar ignored the sarcasm. "With these fans we can pull air from the surface without having to actually raise the whole castle, and the falling sand actually generates energy via the turbines, which is stored— you really have no idea what I'm talking about, do you."
Locke laughed. "I know the castle is currently under the desert and we're not all dead. And this," he said, gesturing vaguely at the hallway full of machinery, "is pretty impressive even if I have no hope of ever understanding how it all works."
"I appreciate the compliment," Edgar said. "Although I think you may be selling yourself short. I'm sure you could grasp the concepts, given time."
"Sure, sure," Locke said. "But I think I have enough on my plate at the moment. How long are we staying down here, anyway?"
"For this particular test, six hours total. I'd love to push it to a full day, but the longer we stay here the more likely it is someone will notice, and we can't have the Empire finding out about it. We have enough food stored now to last six months — ultimately we hope to be able to stay underground for up to a year, though that's really a worst-case scenario. And I am a little concerned about the fans failing if they're running continuously for that long."
"Still, seems like a pretty safe place to ride out a seige, I guess," Locke said. "Though the thought of being stuck in one place for that long sounds absolutely excruciating." He cocked his head at the shining metal tubes lining the hallway. "So what are we gonna do for six hours?"
"Well, I still haven't shown you the water condensers," Edgar said. "I could probably spend at least half of that time explaining exactly how those work."
"Please, no," Locke laughed. "I'm sure it's an engineering marvel, but my brain might leak out of my ears before then."
"Well, we can't have that," Edgar said. "Perhaps instead we could go to my sitting-room, open a bottle of wine, and have discussion of the purely mundane variety."
Edgar always marveled a little at how comfortable Locke looked at all times. He sprawled on the sofa in the sumptuously appointed sitting room in his travel-dusted clothes and looked for all the world like he lived there, and Edgar could only imagine he was just as at home by a campfire or in a dockside pub. But that ability to blend into any surrounding was part of what made him so effective at gathering information, after all.
"I have to admit," Locke said, sipping his glass of red, "It's kinda nice see you get this excited about something. You've got that annoying polite royalty front going on most of the time, but when you start talking about the castle's engineering it's like I'm seeing the real you for once."
"The real me?" Edgar echoed. "I never thought about it like that. I suppose if I weren't king — ah, but never mind."
"What? C'mon, you can talk about anything. I already know all your secrets." Locke's smile at him, over the top of his glass, made Edgar feel suddenly warm. Or maybe it was the fire. Edgar longed for Locke to ask him about the fire, so he could distract them both by explaining where the smoke was going.
"Not all my secrets," he said.
"You might be surprised," Locke shot back.
Edgar had very few people he would consider friends. The reality of his status hung over every relationship; there were certainly people in the castle he trusted with his life, but no one knew all of his secrets. Even Sabin hadn't known everything.
He had told Locke, not so long ago, about the double-sided coin. He was the only person in the world who knew. But there was one thing more, one thing he had been hiding carefully for years, covering with charm and flirtation, and if Locke knew about that…
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Edgar said stiffly.
"Mm-hm," Locke said, shifting to sit more upright, his eyes meeting Edgar's. "You know, it's kind of strange that the famously womanizing king is spending his evening here with me instead of with one of the many lovely woman of his kingdom. That a man who's so handsome and charming and powerful doesn't have a whole harem of ladies, honestly. I did some asking around."
"Of course you did," Edgar mumbled.
"And pretty much every woman I spoke to said you've hit on her at some point, but I never found a single one who actually spent the night with you."
"Well, of course not. I'm not about to abuse my position. And a royal bastard would unnecessarily complicate things."
"Right," Locke said. "Not a single one, though? Ever?"
"All right," Edgar said with a sigh. There was a knot in the pit of his stomach that he hoped his flippant tone was covering. "You've caught me. I do play it up a bit. If my political enemies take me less seriously because they think I'm a thoughtless playboy, you can see how that might be to my advantage."
"C'mon, Edgar," Locke said. "I know that's not all there is to it. I've been a spy too long; I notice things."
"You're spying on me? Don't you trust me?"
"You know that's not what I mean," Locke said irritably. "I just can't help but see what's around me. Like the way you looked at that young engineer when you were showing me the engine room. Or the guard inside the castle entrance. Or-"
"Enough!" Edgar snapped. He surged to his feet and slammed his glass down on the table in front of the sofa, hard enough that the liquid sloshed over the rim. He turned away, unable to bear Locke's eyes on him, but that was somehow even worse.
"Or me," Locke finished.
It was so hot in the room. Too hot. Something wrong with the ventilation, Edgar thought desperately. He'd have to look into it. Perhaps an issue with the grates, and a too-large stone had gotten into the filtration system and caused a blockage.
A hand touched the small of his back. Edgar let out a hiss of breath but did not pull away.
"What do you want from me?" he managed after a moment. "Leverage?"
"Of course not," Locke said. He didn't sound angry, though he would have had every right to be. "It just… it seems like you're really lonely. And I guess I know how hard that can be."
The hand on Edgar's back moved, fingers sliding down his arm, closing on his wrist. The very air seemed to be thrumming. Of course it was, Edgar thought; the engines, the air filters, the machines pulling life out of sand. The blood in his veins as his heart hammered away.
"C'mon," Locke said, tugging at his wrist, and Edgar let himself be led back to the sofa, pushed down onto its plush cushions. Locke sank down onto the rug, putting his palms on Edgar's knees and nudging them apart, and it Edgar's brain scrambled to process exactly what was happening as Locke reached for his belt buckle.
"Wait," he gasped, dropping his hands to Locke's shoulders. "You can't--"
"Why not?" Locke asked.
Edgar couldn't think of a reason. It was hard to think about anything, with Locke smirking up at him like that. "At least take that ridiculous bandana off first," he managed.
Locke laughed, but he conceded; a minor miracle. The things he did with his mouth afterward were even more miraculous. Edgar did his best to return the favor, clumsy and unpracticed as he was, and then they lay on the sofa together, Locke wrapped tightly in his arms.
"The Empire's not gonna be forever," Locke murmured. "Some day Gestahl will be out of the picture and Figaro won't be in such a precarious position, and then you can be a little more selfish. Do some of the things you really wanna do." He chuckled, and Edgar felt the rumble of it through his own body. "Maybe travel a little bit without moving your whole damn castle."
Edgar closed his eyes, and let himself, just for a moment, think about what that might look like. Leaving the castle behind and traveling the world -- Locke could take him along, exploring ancient ruins for lost artifacts. They could go anywhere, sleeping under the stars, making love whenever they wanted.
"You can find someone," Locke continued. "That cute engineer, maybe. He definitely really admires you."
Something in Edgar's chest clenched. "Ah," he said. "I... yes. Perhaps. Some day."
You fool, Edgar mentally chided himself. You know full well Locke's heart is sleeping beneath Kohlingen.
To him, this was just a pleasant diversion. A favor for a friend.
Edgar stroked the other man's soft, pale hair, and realized that he still had one secret left, after all.