Archive of Our Own

Wise knew that something was wrong even before he stepped foot into the front room. There were only a few times when he heard such distress in his mother's voice, and she was usually known for her calm and composed behaviour even in the worst of crises.

He was greeted by the sight of his tearful mother angrily glaring at his father seated at the opposite end of the coffee table. Her face was red and her eyes puffy from crying.

“I won't let you marry him off to that man!” She shouted.

His father let out a weary sigh. “We've talked through this, Carole.”

Wise felt his blood turn cold, the anxious gnawing in his gut growing stronger. He didn't like what he was hearing.

“Ah, Wise, there you are.” His father said in a horribly calm tone that did nothing to assuage his fears. “Do come and sit down.”

He was never told to ‘sit down’ in his own house unless it was a ‘family meeting’. The gnawing in his gut continued to grow as he stiffly sat down on the leather couch.

The words that came out of his father's mouth didn't feel real. He wasn't stupid as to not put two and two together, but hearing it from father dearest gave it a sense of finality, like the resounding slam of a vault door swinging shut.

“But why?” Wise asked, even though he of all people already knew the answer to his question. It wasn't a secret that the Mayflowers had been constantly at odds with the powerful families from TOPS since the founding of New Eridu. With recent growing tensions in the current political climate, his father had been pulling at hairs trying to mediate the situation. He once expressed the idea of forming an alliance with one of the TOPS families. With a marriage between heirs to cement the contract, of course.

“The Ravenlocks seemed to have the same idea in mind, and the newest head approached me to ask for your hand in marriage. This is an ideal match for both our families.” His father said, as a matter of fact.

But I don't want to. Wise thought, keeping those words to himself. It was unbefitting of him as the eldest son to stick his nose up towards his duties. He couldn't afford to be selfish; this wasn't just about him.

“But you can't!” His mother protested, weeping into her silk handkerchief. “I’ve never trusted them. They'll eat our son alive!”

His father stood up from the armchair to sit next to his wife, rubbing her shoulders in an effort to console her. “You need not worry. He does not gain anything from harming Wise. It is quite advantageous that he approached us first.”

He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps an argument, a rebuttal against the arrangement of his fiancé, of his future. A stubborn, childish side of him wanted to believe that his father would just relent if he pleaded hard enough. But the rational part of him knew this was impossible. If Wise wasn’t willing to accept his hand, Belle would be the next on the chopping block. And even if by some miracle the arrangement was to be called off, who was to say that he wouldn’t be thrusted into another political marriage? As far as he knew, his parents were the result of a political marriage as well. They managed to find love in each other’s company in the end, but they were the exception, not the rule.

He was the heir to the Mayflowers, his parent’s son. He couldn’t back down from a challenge, especially not one as life changing as this.

His shoulders sank as he forced a smile. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

He could see the relief colouring his father’s face as he stood up straight. “Perfect! I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”

…

The media caught wind of the news as swiftly as his father made the arrangements for his engagement. Journalists, high society, and the public were all in a flutter about the peculiar union of a Ravenlock and a Mayflower.

Unlike his fiancé, Wise considered himself a reticent person and his general affairs were mostly kept under wraps. But it was as if blinked and all of a sudden, bold headlines, sensational tabloid articles and his accompanying portrait were blasted all over for the world to gawk at.

His mother was plenty upset by the engagement, of course. Surprisingly, so was Belle. But most upset of all was Wise himself, whose freedom was so quickly cut short and his future all planned out by forces beyond his control.

Even his few short months of unmarried life were cut short.

Apparently, the Ravelocks were of the traditional sort in terms of their marriage customs. That meant frequent home visits from either family, an array of courting gifts by the groom, a grandiose, overambitious wedding, and finally, the first night of the couple in their lavish marriage bed. (Wise has never laid with another, not because of lack of ability but because he didn’t see the appeal in indulging in the pleasures of flesh. He had a sneaking suspicion, though, that his fiancé had not done the same.)

It was one thing to be a bride, and another to be treated like one.

The groom’s visit to their home was polite and formal. So much so that Wise began to dread the remainder of his lifetime, wondering if things would always be this way (he was mostly given the freedom to do and wear whatever he pleased unless he had to attend a public event). So instead of his usual baggy shirt and jacket, he was in a more formal get up – an unbuttoned white dress shirt, tight black pants with a simple black leather belt, and a pair of dress shoes. He found himself pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves, a nervous habit he developed when he was a child. When the family butler came in to inform them of Hugo’s arrival, Wise could taste his family’s nervous anticipation.

It took but a second for Wise’s heartbeat to falter. He’s seen his fiancé’s photos before, so his appearance shouldn’t have come off as too much of a surprise. But the saying was true; photographs could never match the real thing. He wore a dark blue ruffle top with bishop sleeves, the underside of his sleeves were lined with pale blue chiffon. Like Wise he also wore a tight fitting pair of dress pants that accentuated his calves, with a leather braided belt on his waist that was tilted in at an angle. His sun-kissed golden blonde hair was neatly tied in a low side ponytail, and the most striking feature of all was his heterochromatic eyes of pale silver and striking blood red.

While exchanging pleasantries with his father, Hugo took a moment to tilt his head ever so slightly to glance at Wise for a brief second, and it took all of his willpower to not shy away like a yearning schoolgirl.

He was not one to catch feelings for someone simply because they were attractive, in fact he never had any school crushes or flings of the sort. While boys his age were out chasing skirts and slipping away to secret rendezvous, he buried himself behind LED screens and tinkered with malfunctioning bangboos on the side of the street. The other children thought he was strange – the boy who preferred the company of bangboo over humans. They gossiped and whispered about him behind covered palms and sneaky glances, but he paid them all no mind. He had his sister, his parents and Eous that supported him no matter how eccentric his interests were.

To think that now he would be leaving them all behind…

Belle, who was initially taciturn and on guard, had slowly begun to warm up to Hugo, laughing at his jokes and bantering with him as if he was part of the family already. Their mother’s tense and stiff shoulders were slowly beginning to relax more, although not quite fully. His father was all smiles, but he could tell it was the sort of smile he had as part of his mask as a man of his position.

Hugo was a man of charisma and allure, seemingly able to capture the undivided attention of anyone in the room. It was as if there was an invisible spotlight cast on him at all times that made everyone's head turn at the sight of him. He had a way with words, with an uncanny ability to know the exact phrases that would elicit a positive response. Wise would almost be as impressed as Belle was, if not for the hard walls of cynical realism that fortified his heart. He was the son of a politician; he was well aware of the games that men like Hugo played.

It was only after Hugo left did Wise let out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding. The ornate black box that Hugo gifted him was cold to the touch, which he kept hidden away in a dusty unused drawer, as if afraid that if he opened it he'd unleash his very own Pandora's Box of horrors and curses to the world.

…

The next few weeks a flurry of gifts were being sent his way. One week he would receive ornate rings and necklaces made out of the finest gold and precious, lustrous stones, and the next he would get cashmere blazers and leather bags crafted by renowned craftsmen that only served clientele with vast, deep pockets. He only knew what they were solely via his sister’s insistence (and nosiness) in seeing what treasures were hidden in those gift boxes; otherwise he would have delayed opening them, letting them join the other boxes in that dusty drawer to never see the light of day.

(The first gift that Hugo gave him was a silver brooch lined with round brilliant cut diamonds, in the shape of a mockingbird with its wings stretched open and an olive branch on its beak. Wise would admit to no one that he stared – no – admired it for much too long, watching how the facets of the stones sparkled under the light of his desk lamp).

Hugo continued to make his weekly visits to the Mayflower household, and Belle would always be the first to excitedly greet him in the front room, almost as if she were his bride. They had seemingly formed an unofficial, unspoken alliance of sorts, and Wise felt almost betrayed. Not that he thought that his sister would pursue his fiancé (or vice versa), but rather the idea that she wasn't upset anymore about the marriage, the belief that Hugo would be in the end, the right person for him until death do them part.

He hardly had any reason to believe that Hugo was as good and upstanding as he was, despite the charms and the mannerisms. Hardly any reason to believe that his pale, unblemished hands were as clean as he presented them to be.

He hardly had any reason to believe that Hugo Vlad Ravenlock had no hand in the massacre of his family.

Public Security had labelled it a freak accident, the public gawked and speculated during lunch breaks and in online forums, and TOPS could hardly care up atop their position at their ivory tower. They found the sole survivor of the massacre, a shivering and shell-shocked young man hiding in one of the many back staircases that the servants used to travel between floors without being seen, holed up in the tight space like a rat in its burrow. Except it was anything but a comfortable dark burrow but more so a refuge that prevented him from becoming another body swimming in the combined blood of all his unfortunate family members.

Belle had told him – multiple times in fact – to lay off the conspiracy videos and forums. It’s not healthy for you to get swept up in the delusions of contrarians and devils advocates, she said one day as she walked into his room while he was browsing Inter-Knot. He argued back that he was not and was just browsing to pass the time. He was almost envious, really. He and his parents had always tried to shelter Belle from the wider reality of the world, cutting off the thorns from the roses called Life so she wouldn’t prick her delicate fingers on them.

Family members from the stratospheres of society engaging in bloody succession battles was anything but uncommon, and the Ravenlocks were not shy in their beliefs in social Darwinism and eugenics. To Wise, that fateful accident was nothing more to him than a brutal succession battle gone awry, and the victor had donned on the sheep’s pelt and hidden among its fallen prey.

There was a good chance that his theory was not true and he was slandering a perfectly innocent man. Maybe he was being paranoid. But better to be safe than to end up as prey in the wolf’s gaping maw.

…

The wedding itself, when it finally happened, was a surprisingly quiet and small affair for a marriage between two families of their calibre. Wise did not have the heart to invite any of his wider circle of friends to a wedding that was for business reasons rather than love, instead having only his sister to act as the bridesmaid and one of their younger cousins as a flower girl.

Hugo had also not invited any of his friends, or family for that matter (how could he when his entire bloodline is either six foot under or long estranged). His best man was a wolf thiren butler with mechanical legs, his figure imposing and his posture unwavering, following behind his master like a loyal shadow.

The suit he wore was made of cream dusted mohair with a pocket boutonniere made of bay leaf, dusty miller, and a baby pink spray rose with blue thistle and seeded eucalyptus pods. As was tradition, he wore the full-length lace veil that his mother wore with minute embroidered flowers in silver and gold thread.

In the privacy of the dressing room, his mother was just about finished with dusting his face with blush. She stood back a bit to examine her work, before tilting his head to face the vanity mirror. The person staring back at him was a total stranger, or at least that's what he told himself to calm the hammering of his heart.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” If he gives you trouble, you know you can always tell us.”

Wise hummed as he nodded, averting his gaze downward as he noticed the scrunching of her eyes and the telltale droplets of iridescent tears in the corner of her eyes. He didn't like to see his mother upset. “Well then, I'll come running back if he so much as gives me a paper cut.”

This elicited a giggle from her. She rubbed his shoulders and looked at him fondly, the stresses of wedding preparations and an uncertain future forgotten just for a fleeting moment. He reached out to hold her cold hands in his, and she squeezed them back.

The ceremony was unostentatious and his father led him down the aisle with a solemn face. At the altar stood his husband to be and the solemniser who recited the vows from a thick tome in a monotonous, clinical tone. When Hugo silently lifted his veil to kiss him gently on the lips, he couldn't read the expression on the man's face.

They did not bother with a honeymoon, simply disappearing off to one of Hugo's holiday homes for a few days. They spent their time either on the empty beach (cleared by the power of money), or bar hopping at the many upscale establishments that were nearby, sampling exotic cocktails and wines until midnight. Most evenings, Wise would curl up in the armchair and scroll through Inter-Knot on his phone and Hugo would busy himself with a book until one or both of them decided to retire for the night – in separate rooms.

…

Time drifted by slowly, the dull routine of domesticity settling in as the days passed in the Ravenlock manor. Back home, there was never a dull moment or dead silence with servants going about their duties, visitors arriving at their door to have private meetings, family members coming over occasionally to have tea, the laughter of his sister echoing throughout the hallways, and the baby footsteps of their family bangboo.

The Ravenlock manor, however, almost acted as an antithesis to everything he had considered home. The walls and furniture were fitted in dark, cool colours of blue, indigo, black with a tinge of red. There were only him, Hugo, his wolf thiren butler and Eous that resided in the all too big mansion. On some days he would spot the occasional part time servants – a gardener, a few female housekeepers and delivery men with their vehicles at the unloading bay – which put his mind at ease knowing that there were other souls around and he wasn’t sealed away in another dimension.

Wise had taken Eous with him to his new home at his sister’s insistence. That way we'll always be together no matter how far apart we are, Belle said with a smile as she handed over the bangboo in his arms at the wedding, carefully as if Eous were a human infant. Poor Eous, their dear Eous, was at a crossroads at having to leave the rest of his family behind. He looked so crestfallen when they got back from their “honeymoon”, and every night Wise would cuddle with him in bed like he used to when he was a child.

So it came to his surprise when one day Hugo showed up with a completely new, custom made bangboo. He wore a dapper little black suit with a bright purple cravat and an adorably small pocket square in its suit pocket. Its most striking feature was its mask that covered one of its LED eyes entirely which was replaced with a gold ornament. It stood prim and proper by Hugo’s side like a butler awaiting orders from its master.

Eous looked on with bated anticipation, turning his gaze back and forth between the new bangboo and his parent. “Eh-nee?” (Are you new here?)

The new bangboo was silent for a moment, before nodding firmly at the inquiry. “Ehn-na. En-neh-uhn-neh.” (Yes, I am Robin. I was created and sent here to look after someone. Are you Eous?” “Ehn-ne?” (That’s me! How did you know my name?)

“En-neh-enn.” (I was specifically assigned to oversee your affairs and be your companion. Pleased to meet you.)

At this, Eous’ bunny ears wriggled in excitement. “Ehn-ne!” (Wow! Does this mean you’re like Lycaon?)

Hugo looked down at the conversing bangboos with a minute, satisfied smile on his lips. Sensing the puzzled expression of his wife, Hugo looked up and let out a small chuckle.

“I sensed that your bangboo was lonely, and I figured I should give him a companion. You don’t like seeing him upset, no?”

The two bangboo continued walking along, with Eous getting more animated the more he conversed with Robin, Wise and Hugo trailing behind them like bodyguards. He was probably delighted to have someone new to meet, someone to keep his little processing module distracted from homesick thoughts. He must be terribly missing all his bangboo friends back home, isn't he? Wise had always felt bad dragging his little bangboo into his plight, but with his cheerful and extroverted nature he seemed to be on the fast track to making a new friend.

(He did not want to admit that he was envious of his bangboo’s innocent and carefree nature; he’d sound ridiculous. Childish if you will).

…

Over time, there were many unspoken rules that they laid out in regards to household arrangements, boundaries and feelings. Wise took note of his husband’s many mannerisms and ticks. The copious amount of honey he would add in his tea, the juxtapositional aversion to desserts (especially chocolate cake, he had a look in his eye whenever he saw the accursed thing), the way he would flip and toss a gold coin around his fingers whenever he was nervous; many such things. He never commented on it, as much as Hugo never commented on his vintage movie collection, his willingness to drop everything to fix up an abandoned malfunctioning bangboo on the street; many such things.

There was a silent, tacit agreement between them – one of many – that, should any affairs be started, the other would be quietly informed, their families and the press be kept out of it. It was only fair, after all, that they deserved happiness.

Wise had an encounter one day while he was out shopping with Eous at Lumina Square. He was out getting new batteries for his bangboo – a task that he certainly could have asked Lycaon or Robin to handle – and needed an excuse to step outside and walk amongst regular people.

His little Eous had been distracted by something – a stray balloon, a peculiar pigeon – he didn't remember what exactly. He was rushing to catch up with Eous in the crowd while holding his shopping bags, wholly focused on the tiny construct weaving through the throngs of people that he didn't notice the wall that he ungraciously slammed face first into. Not a wall, no, but a muscular man dressed in biker getup: a black leather jacket with gold plated spikes on the yoke and lapel, knee high boots and an engine powered gauntlet on his right arm. But the most striking article of clothing amongst everything else was the red scarf that hugged his neck.

The resulting ricochet was so strong he almost fell over if not for the man grabbing his arm and shopping bags in time. Some bags were not so lucky as they fell unceremoniously on the floor, the contents spilling out onto the street. The man whom he later learned was named Lighter – a peculiar name, yet somehow instantly recognisable like the red scarf around his neck – had been so kind as to help gather his belongings, find Eous amongst the crowd and escorted him back to his ride.

As the limousine drove away from the carpark and onto the main road, Wise looked back to see Lighter’s vanishing figure as he waved and waved at him until he could see him no longer. He would not expect to meet him again until he returned to Lumina Square some time later, his sharp eyes immediately catching the sight of tousled raven hair and a bright red scarf billowing in the breeze.

Lighter always made time for him, always stopping whatever he was doing to accompany Wise for coffee or shopping or for walks along the river where commercial boats travelled through and fro. An Outer Ring dweller had no reason to be here unless it was to handle administrative affairs or to stock up on supplies, which Lighter came to do periodically at the whim of his gang members. “The Sons of Calydon’s Errand Boy, if you will.” Lighter would say sometimes, and Wise would respond with a chuckle or a shake of his head.

Without realising it, Wise found himself coming back to Lumina Square time and time again even if he had nothing to do, just so he could sit at the terrace of Coff Cafe that overlooked the shops that Lighter would always frequent during his errand runs, and invite the man to join him. His wolf thiren driver said nothing of his frequent visits to the shopping district, said nothing of his lack of shopping bags and the biker that would dutifully escort him back as if he were a personal bodyguard.

Wise in turn said nothing of his relations with Hugo, said nothing of his closeness with his master that could be interpreted as inappropriate for a Lord and his servant. It was frightening how much their thoughts and movements were in sync, almost as if they were of one body and mind. Lycaon would cleverly anticipate every need of his master, the looks they sent each other gave the impression they were communicating through telepathy. Like a perfect display of synchrony, Lycaon would go out of his way to arrange and prepare everything so flawlessly and orderly that Hugo would not be even inconvenienced by things such as specks of dust on the door handles or a single wrinkle on the tablecloth.

If the Ravenlock manor still had its original body of domestic staff, the rumour mill would’ve been working overtime. His poor wife, they would say behind hushed whispers in the staff quarters, not out of pity but more so an activity for team bonding and camaraderie.

And so they each continued their routines and little indulgences. Wise with his coffee that he shared with a biker from the Outer Ring, and Hugo with his butler who moulded himself into whatever he wanted and would give him the world if he so much as asked.

Yet, they would both retire back to their bedchambers alone and sit down in front of the fire with their books and their music, quite content.

…

If there was anything good that came out of the engagement, he supposed that it would be seeing his little Eous get along so swimmingly with Robin. The one eyed bangboo followed Eous wherever he went, never letting him out of his sight. In a way, he almost resembled Lycaon with his impeccable service and attentiveness. Eous would talk his ear off about his parents, his home and his many friends that he made on the streets. And Robin’s green LCD eye would be fixated on him as he nodded along, never missing a beat. One characteristic that differentiated him from the thiren butler however, was his overprotectiveness. He would fuss over Eous if he so much as lifted an object too heavy or leaned too far over a balcony.

“You seem to like Eous, don’t you?” Wise asked Robin during afternoon tea. Today he indulged in finger sandwiches with smoked salmon, cucumber and egg mayonnaise, a square slice of vanilla sponge cake and hand ground coffee.

“Ehn-ne? En-neh-enn?” (Like? I suppose he is good company.) Robin said as he set the silver cutlery on top of the silk napkins. “En-nuh-nah.” (It is my duty after all.)

“What do you mean?”

Robin paused to look at Wise with a quizzical glance. “Ehn-na? En-neh-uhn-neh?” (Am I not supposed to like him? Wasn’t I created for this purpose?)

“Well, do you like him as a friend?” Wise took a slow sip of his coffee as he watched the bangboo processing his question in his logic core, his bunny ears twitching.

“Ehn-neh, ne.” (Eous sees me as a great friend. I suppose I’ve done a great job.)

Wise tried his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart, the thought that this bangboo only followed Eous around and listened to his every word because he was obliged to. Meanwhile Robin was giving him a blank stare, as if whatever came out of his mouth were ancient hieroglyphs from a distant alien planet.

“I was hoping your relationship with him wouldn’t be so… transactional.” Wise said, trying to hide the disappointment in his tone.

Robin merely shook his head. “Ehn-ne-ne, neh-enn.” (Nonsense, seeing Eous happy means I am happy. It means I’m upholding my duty. Are you not proud of upholding yours?)

It felt as if the bangboo was holding up a mirror in his stubby little arms, and no matter how much Wise tried averting his gaze, his reflection’s eyes would follow his every movement with a cold judgemental stare. He looked down to stare at his half empty cup of coffee, and this time his reflection looked more solemn than cold.

“I can’t say for sure,” Wise said after a moment of silence. “But sometimes we have duties and responsibilities that we don’t like, and we have to see them through to the end. That's just how life is.”

Robin made a mechanical hum of acknowledgement and affirmed it with a nod of his head, before refilling the half empty coffee cup.

…

Unlike Belle, Wise never had the common childhood phobia of the dark. Insomnia had made him accustomed to long midnight strolls around the halls of his childhood home. He would help her scare away the monsters under her bed and would accompany her on her journey to the kitchens whenever she felt peckish after dark.

He always preferred the stillness of the night compared to the chaos and bustle of the day. It was the only time when his burdens and responsibilities could be shelved away to be dealt with the next day and all that was left was peace and a sense of mental liberation. Whenever he couldn’t return to the sweet embrace of sleep, he would take a walk outside and let his mind wander.

Even living under a different roof his routine hasn’t changed. Sleep had eluded him once again, and tonight he strolled through the long and wide hallways of the Ravenlock manor with his phone in hand. The darkness was all encompassing and the night breeze today was particularly chilly; he had made the right call to bring a jacket along with him. As he turned a corner, he felt a lingering presence behind him, almost as if someone was watching him.

He turned around… only to see nothing behind him. A sudden chill ran down his spine. It was playing out like those horror movies that Belle would trick him into watching, and he was the unassuming protagonist about to be brutally maimed and killed, right about –

“Fancy seeing you wandering around at this hour.”

The scream that came out of his mouth was so high in pitch that he was almost amazed at himself. Standing in front of him was Hugo in white silk sleepwear and a slight teasing grin on his lips.

“Where did you come from!” Wise cried out as he attempted to reorient his soul back to his body after it had been rudely shaken out of its vessel.

Hugo said nothing at first as he tilted his head as if he were pondering quite hard on Wise’s question. “You're right, why would I be wandering around in my own house?”

“You know what I meant,” Wise said dryly, trying to smooth away the shakiness in his voice caused from the earlier scare.

“They say a night stroll can help you sleep better. It reduces stress, regulates your circadian rhythm, and eases the mind.” Hugo replied.

“So I've heard.”

“I really didn't mean to scare you. Although…” Hugo let his voice trail off as he looked at Wise with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Seeing you this flustered is quite a treat.”

The words drove Wise's mind to a screeching halt as he tried to process his response, trying to unveil the hidden meaning behind his words. Did he find his fear… amusing? The images of a bloodied hall, the array of corpses, and a lone blonde man flashed before his eyes. His shoulders stiffened, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

If Hugo had noticed his discomfort, he never commented on it. Instead, he broke his gaze from Wise’s face to the Venetian window that framed the full moon. “It's quite embarrassing to admit, but sometimes I get ‌occasional nightmares. And I'm usually not keen on going back to sleep after it, so I take walks to clear my mind.”

“It's nothing to be ashamed of, it's natural,” Wise replied. “I usually take a walk due to my insomnia. It’s better than just staring at the ceiling in bed.”

“If only they thought the same way you do…” Hugo said in a low voice, a whisper that probably wasn’t meant for Wise’s ears. He then cleared his throat and spoke, “How have you been adjusting so far?”

“I’ve been doing alright. Although Eous seems to be doing much better, he's getting along great with Robin.”

“I have been telling Robin not to take things too seriously. If I wanted to assign Eous a butler, I would've asked Lycaon to order a generic bangboo from the market.” Hugo let out a small chuckle. “Eous has been such a dear, no? He used to avoid looking me in the eye, but now he smiles and waves at me, always so eager to tell me about the things he's done with Robin. He's such a good child.”

“I'm just happy that Eous is happy.” Wise said, his lips curving into an uncontrollable smile at the thought of his adorable bangboo. “Belle did insist that I bring him with me.”

“Being away from your family must be difficult.” Hugo said.

“I still keep in contact with Belle. Although she's been busy lately, she still keeps me in the loop on any family affairs and outside gossip.” Wise replied. “Mother still sends me letters, she says she prefers that over text messages.”

“Well, I can see why she thinks that way. They're nice keepsakes that I look back upon fondly. My sister too enjoyed writing letters.”

Sensing his chance, Wise asked tentatively, “your sister?”

The temperature of the air suddenly dropped and the smallest hint of a frown crinkled on Hugo’s pale face. For a moment, Wise worried that he had stepped out of line.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize and hurriedly switch the topic, Hugo let out a sigh through his nose and spoke, “she was the only family member that cared about me, and I in turn. It didn't matter that my siblings all hated me; she was the only one who showed me kindness. Whenever she was away, she would write letters to me, and I would always store them somewhere even the servants couldn't find. I still keep her letters to this day, and I like to think of them as lucky charms and re-read them whenever I’m in need of motivation or wisdom. In a way, she’s still with me.”

As he spoke, Hugo’s eyes grew glassy for a moment, his mind briefly transported back to a simpler time. Wise allowed the silence to stretch on as he watched Hugo quietly reminisce about a childhood bygone. He could almost picture it – a young Hugo running through the estate's gardens with a taller girl, hands linked so tightly as if they were afraid that if one were to let go, the other would vanish.

He then blinked and that glassy gaze was gone, his signature grin returning to his lips. “Don’t feel too bad for me, dear, it's all in the past now. Perhaps you should consider spending more time with Belle, and do bring Eous and Robin with you. Knowing your sister, maybe she’ll be able to make Robin loosen up.”

They continued their stroll under the pale moonlight, talking to each other as if they had known each other for years, as if they were truly a married couple that loved each other and had nothing to hide. Wise found himself forgetting about his earlier discomfort as he bantered and laughed with Hugo, and when they reached the door to his bedchambers, he almost didn't want their stroll to end.

When Wise found himself tugging at Hugo’s sleeves as he was about to leave, he wished the ground would swallow him whole and spare him the embarrassment. Hugo continued to look at him with that disarming smile and dual coloured eyes that seemed to pierce deep into his soul.

“Just – I mean you should – no, I meant–” Wise bit his tongue to prevent himself from cussing. “Just… take care of yourself, alright?”

Hugo let out a chuckle that was almost endearing, echoing throughout the empty hallways of the manor.

…

Things slowly began to change in the estate. Some nights, Wise would step away from his monitors and help with financial and tax records for the few companies that were still under the Ravenlock name. On other nights, Hugo would put down those records to read while Wise browsed Inter Knot on his phone. They initially just did their business in silence until one night Wise enquired about the book he was reading. And the next night Hugo looked up from his thick tome to ask about the posts Wise was scrolling through on his phone. They initially sat on separate chairs, but eventually they found themselves sitting side by side on the sofa.

It was one of those nights that Wise put down his phone – a rare moment, considering how phone addicted he was – and poked his husband until he looked at him. Wise then passed him the wax sealed lavender envelope he was holding. Hugo put down his book to open the flap and pulled out a floral scented paper invitation with words in hot stamped gold foil.

He half expected Hugo to give him a curt smile, say “Oh, congratulations,” and return to his book. Instead, his eyes lightened up as he immediately began discussing coordinating their outfits, clearing their schedule and buying wedding presents.

When the wedding happened, Wise was still convinced that he was dreaming. The ceremony had been nothing short of beautiful, and he’s attended many lavious and elaborate social functions hosted by people with more money than substance.

Standing on the altar surrounded by her friends and family was his dear sister Belle, her alice blue silk dress moving with the flow of air. A large, frilly pink ribbon was tied to her chest area and the back of her dress, and her veil was a gradient of light to dark blue with embroidered gold stars at the tail end. Standing alongside her was the groom, ‌his hands linked in hers. It was clear that the groom utterly adored her – and was adored in return.

It was a few months after Wise got married that Belle announced that she was seeing someone, an executive officer from HSO’s Section Six. To say he was skeptical of his extreme carefree and lackadaisical attitude the first time they met was an understatement. As much as he was happy she was taking charge of her love life, he spent much time wondering what Belle even saw in him. He even made sure to make his displeasure known whenever he met Harumasa, sending a silent warning message that he would give him hell if he ever so much as gave her a paper cut.

As he watched the happy couple dance at the center of the hall, Wise was relieved to know that his intuition had been way off mark, and that his sacrifice hadn't been for nothing. He had always put his sister first and was willing to bleed and walk over hot coals if it meant that she was happy and comfortable. He could take anything that was thrown at him, even if it meant being in a political marriage so that she wouldn't have to.

Partially to encourage the other couples and to have something to do, Hugo offered him his hand to dance the waltz, and Wise accepted. Wise had never shown any interest in dance until he got married, and even when he took extra lessons from Lycaon, he only bothered so that he wouldn't embarrass‌ the both of them during social functions by stepping on his partner’s toes. While he wasn't as excellent ‌a dancer as Hugo, he performed well enough as his dance partner, and they even got a round of applause in the end, which Hugo accepted gracefully.

When they returned back to their seats at the table, he found that he couldn't look at the man who was his husband. Even after Hugo had let go of his hand, he could still feel the lingering warmth of his touch.

…

“Master Wise, whatever you do, stay put and do not open the door for anyone.”

The sentence played over and over again in his head like a prayer of protection. In the silence of the small broom closet, the prayer in his head felt deafening, disorientating. He cradled Eous in his arms as he rubbed his back in an attempt to quell his trembling. His bunny ears were flat and enclosed in on itself as he tried to shrink further into the embrace of his parent.

It had all happened so fast. One moment he was having his afternoon tea, the next he was barricaded inside a musty broom closet in the servants’ quarters. He had felt the quiet tremors of an explosion and the faint yells of a group of men. Lycaon immediately dropped the teapot that he was holding, his posture stiffening and his ears perked up. He then muttered a quick, quiet apology before sweeping Wise and Eous into a bridal carry as he dashed through the hallways with such urgency that he had never seen in the wolf thiren before.

There wasn't a need to ask if something was wrong – they had a close encounter with one of the intruders when they rounded a corner. The man barely had time to raise his weapon before he was slammed onto the ground by mechanical legs with a sickening crunch. He hid his face in Lycaon’s chest, not keen on seeing the resulting carnage or the blood coating his legs.

The only source of light was the orange glow of the wall lamp that peeked through the tight gap of the closet. The doors were barricaded with cleaning equipment and old furniture, alongside a wooden plank slotted between the door handles. It wasn't enough to stop someone from breaking into his hiding place, but he supposed it could buy them some extra time for Lycaon to come swoop in and save them.

Eous let out a quiet whine, and Wise leaned down to kiss him on the forehead like a mother comforting her baby. He whispered words of comfort to the bangboo, that they were going to be fine, that Lycaon had everything under control – although he was unsure of it himself.

Mental images of a sea of blood decorated with floating, bloated corpses kept flashing before his eyes, and wading through the body of blood was the same young man that haunted his visions. The man stopped and turned his gaze towards him, and Wise felt his heart stop. So this is how it goes. In the end, he will just be another lifeless, desecrated corpse in the blood sea of his making.

There was a voice – a faint one – that was supposedly shouting his name. The young man walked towards him, every step synchronized to the thump of his beating heart, and a countdown to the time he had left. The voices grew louder, more frantic, as the blood sea continued rising until it reached his shoulders. There was banging and shouting, but he couldn't make anything out of the static that was buzzing in his ears.

Finally, the shadowy figure had caught up to him. With his legs seemingly glued to the ground, he couldn't even run if he wanted to. Instead he could only stare at the figure raising his arms and reaching out towards –

“Wise!”

His vision was flooded by a wave of light as the doors flew open, alongside the strong stench of iron that seemed to wrap around the air. The figure standing in front of him was different. For one, he was taller, and his heterochromatic eyes were blown up in worry, in fear. He knelt down as he grabbed Wise by his shoulders, surveying him for any injuries. It was only then did he notice that Hugo was covered in blood.

“I thought I lost you,” Hugo said. He was trembling.

“H-huh?”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “A gang of assassins broke into the estate. They were after my head. I was able to fend them off, but I couldn't find you anywhere. And when we came down here there was so much blood. I... I thought you'd... when you didn't answer, I… I'm so glad you're safe.”

Wise said nothing, instead winding his arms tighter around his waist, drawing comfort from his strength. He felt the wet blood from Hugo's clothes staining his own but he couldn't care less. Eous ran towards Lycaon and a very frantic Robin who looked as though he was about to explode into a million metal and glass fragments.

“EHN-NAH?! Nah-neh, EH-NAH!” (EOUS! ARE YOU HURT?! You don't look so good… Those bastards, I WILL MAKE THEM PAY!) Robin screamed, his LED eyes flickering.

“Eh-neh-nu…” (It's okay… we were safe down here this whole time.) Eous reassured the masked bangboo with a few pats on his back. Lycaon stood still and observed his human masters and their bangboo quietly, although he mostly kept an eye on Robin to ensure that he didn't overheat his circuits or do anything extreme.

Wise pressed his face against Hugo’s shoulder in an attempt to ground himself. He was no longer in the blood sea but back in reality, with his husband who was alive and well. Hugo then broke away from the hug to gently grip his chin in one hand, tilting it up so that he was looking at his silver and red eyes.

Then, to his complete surprise, Hugo kissed him.

It wasn't one of the faint pecks that they gave each other during public appearances when it was called for. It wasn't the apologetic kiss he had given him on their wedding day. It was a proper kiss, a kiss that should only be given between spouses, soul-mates, lovers. Something in Wise’s chest loosened and he raised his arms that were around his waist and entwined it around Hugo's neck, pulling him closer.

A few seconds later, Hugo broke the kiss and pulled away, his face flushed scarlet. It was the first time he had seen Hugo, the usually confident and composed man, act this vulnerable. For a while, neither of them were able to break eye contact.

“Did... did you really mean to do that?” Wise asked tentatively, not daring to move so as to not shatter the fantasy he found himself in.

Hugo looked at him with a softness in his eyes, as if he were looking at the most beautiful thing in the world. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, I meant to do that.”

"Good," Wise said, suddenly confident – suddenly happy. "Then you can do it again if you like.”

When Hugo happily obliged, Wise hummed happily as he melted into him. Never mind that they were covered in blood that was not their own, holding and feeding off each other so hungrily. They didn't notice Lycaon escorting their bangboo outside to give the couple their much needed privacy, too absorbed in each other to care about what the outside world thought of them.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was so sure, so certain that they wouldn't work. Their families were just too different, never destined to meet in the middle. But it was working – at least, if the faint flush of red through his cheeks was a blush and not fever.

…

After that, things suddenly got a lot easier. They no longer slept in separate rooms, although Wise was at first flustered at the thought of having to share a bed. Much to his dismay, Hugo spent the next few weeks poking fun at him for it, although he didn't make Wise do anything that he was uncomfortable with. It took time for them to get used to acts of intimacy, and Hugo was the one who took the lead when it came down to it (of course, seeing Wise act all shy and flustered was very entertaining for him).

It was ‌one evening as they sat together on the sofa that Hugo decided to tell him everything.

“That incident back then… I didn't do it.”

The cryptic words made Wise put down his phone. “What?”

“That massacre seven years ago. You've probably seen the news back then.”

Wise nodded. It made such huge, sensational headlines that it was impossible to avoid hearing about it unless one lived under a rock.

“I hated my father. I hated him so much that I wanted him dead. And one night I gathered the courage to carry out my revenge. I attacked him and I thought he was dead… but he wasn’t. I couldn’t kill him. After almost being assassinated, he was furious and locked everyone in the hall, but wasn’t unable to find the culprit. So he killed everyone there. It was only a few years after the massacre where I discovered that it was my dear uncle Hartman who killed him. While my father was eliminating all unfamiliar faces, my uncle took advantage of the chaos and eliminated him. What he did not account for was me. If it wasn’t for Lycaon hiding me under that stairwell, his schemes would have succeeded.”

Even though Hugo was putting on a calm facade, Wise could sense the shakiness in his voice and the way his fingers anxiously fiddled with the yellowed pages of his book. He scooted closer and rubbed slow circles on his back. Hugo hummed in response.

“Do you know how furious he was when he knew I was alive? I suppose the numerous attempts on my life after that were an indicator.” Hugo let out a dry chuckle as his eyes twinkled with something akin to amusement. “With my management of the family’s assets, our marriage, and all those failed assassination attempts, my uncle has been getting desperate. He believes I’m going to ruin the legacy of the Ravenlock name.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this?” Wise said.

“I didn’t want you to worry. I trusted Lycaon enough to protect you, just like he protected me.” Hugo then leaned closer to the point where the tip of their noses were touching. “Can’t have my bride running away now.” As if to emphasise his point, Hugo closed the gap between their lips for a quick kiss, enjoying the stunned look on Wise’s face, as though a kiss between spouses was something to be embarrassed about.

“How are you going to deal with your uncle now?” Wise asked, twirling his fingers in his husband’s silky blonde hair.

For a while, Hugo didn’t say anything, just frowned and let out a deep sigh that conveyed burdens that didn’t need to be described with words. “Lycaon and I have been trying to gather evidence of his crimes for years. Only recently I have been able to build a strong case, and with any incriminating testimonies from the surviving assassins that Public Security bought back with them, I should be able to take him down once and for all.” His lips then curved into a smirk that resembled a Cheshire cat. “I’m not planning on letting him get away this time. Not when I have someone to protect.”

Hugo leaned forward to capture Wise’s lips again, and this time he wasn’t just satisfied with a teasing, light peck. They melted into each other, so naturally and perfectly as if they were puzzle pieces that were made to click together, to belong. The room was filled with the sounds of their lips and tongues and saliva mingling together, and they momentarily forgot about the topic of their conversation beforehand.

When they finally parted (regrettably, they were human and they needed air), Wise broke the thin string that was still connecting them together and said, “when this is all over, I was wondering if we could have a vow renewal ceremony now that we… well, now that we actually mean the vows. A proper celebration that our friends can all come to.”

Hugo’s lips curled into a wide, dazzling smile. “Like we’re having our wedding all over again. That’s perfect.”

…

The days turned to weeks and to months. Hugo had been scrambling all over the place making long calls, heading off with Lycaon to places unknown and not returning until late in the early morning; sometimes he wouldn’t even return home for a few days (one time he was away for a week). Wise would always patiently wait and welcome him home and sit with him on the same sofa, listening to him talk about his progress while sipping on chamomile tea.

They continued with their routine until one late night, where Wise was finding himself dozing off on the sofa and his phone in hand. The television was switched on but he wasn’t paying attention, too busy fighting off his fatigue and keeping his eyelids open. Hurried footsteps and the slam of doors shook Wise from his daze, and his eyes snapped open to see a madly grinning Hugo rushing towards him to pick him up and twirl him around as if they were in the middle of a waltz.

News footage of a disgruntled Hartman being escorted by Public Security officers in cuffs flashed on screen. A swarm of reporters shoved their microphones in his direction and the flash of cameras bathed the scene in white, blinding light.

…

As it turned out, planning the vow renewal ceremony was even more complicated than the original wedding had been. Since it was their day, they wanted to organise everything themselves. They spent much time scouting for the best venue, making long and complicated phone calls to caterers, kitchen staff, flower arrangers, tailors and hotels.

Sometimes Wise wondered how Hugo felt whenever they were settling the invitations. He virtually had no family besides him, and it seemed that Lycaon was his only friend. All he received from his own blood was disdain and no love, suspicion from his companions and betrayal that came all too easily. An impenetrable wall had been built around his heart ever since he gained consciousness and perceived hatred, keeping everyone out for his own survival. Did he look at Wise’s long guest list of family and friends and feel envy, longing, pain?

“Are you worried about my feelings, my dear?” Hugo said as Wise was writing down the address on one of the envelopes. He had always been good at reading the emotions and predicting the thoughts of others, and with Wise was no different (in fact, as his wife, it was even easier for him to do so).

“I told you before, didn’t I? It’s all in the past now. My family has hurt me in ways I do not wish upon anyone, and even today I believe they deserved to die. But I no longer care to personally deliver that fate.” Hugo raised his arms to caress Wise’s cheeks, and the sensation of his fingers tracing his cheekbone was electrifying. “They’re beneath me, and I have more important things to focus on.”

Wise used his free hand to cradle Hugo’s hand and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze. “That’s good to hear.”

“Now why don’t we hurry on and get these invitations posted?” Hugo stood up and stretched. “Staying inside all day won’t do your body any favors.”

…

Unlike their previous wedding, Hugo was adamant on going all out and making it as grandiose and overambitious as possible. Unlike his flamboyant husband, Wise preferred things to be more subtle and practical, but he supposed it was Hugo’s way of showing how much he loved and cherished him by showing him off to the world.

The first group of guests to arrive were his old classmates from Helios Academy. Seed had been confused at first when she received the invitation, wondering why he was getting married again to the same man.

“Do vows have an expiration date? I've never heard of that before.” She said with a tilt of her head.

“Our vows haven’t expired, it's just a nice way for us to gather family and friends to celebrate how far we've come.”

Seed made a sound of acknowledgement as she nodded. She passed the couple a bouquet of roses, hydrangeas and peonies wrapped in light turquoise paper, and they passed her a bouquet of daffodils and daisies, arranged by Wise himself.

The Sons of Calydon were the next guests to arrive. Caesar was looking around in awe and gushing to Lucy about how romantic this all was, Piper was trying her best to suppress a yawn, and Burnice looked as though she was about to ricochet off the walls if not for Lighter holding her back. Hugo assured the biker girl that they had enough free flow Nitro Fuel to feed an entire town, which made her almost collapse on the spot with glee.

“I’ll pass on the Nitro Fuel, it makes me dizzy.” Lighter said as he adjusted his sunglasses.

Wise had remembered the time when he was nursing a crush on the biker from the Outer Ring, sharing coffee and laughing at each other’s bad jokes. He was similar to Hugo in certain ways, but Lighter was Lighter and Hugo was Hugo, and he only loved one of them.

Manato arrived with his group of friends, alongside Billy, Anby, Nekomata and Nicole. Manato was fumbling with his tie and Alice had to help him before he tangled himself on it. Lucia was excitedly showing her notebook to Anby and Billy, rambling on about her story of Ethereals that lived in places called Hollows. Nicole and Nekomata were looking around with wide and dazzled eyes, as if not being able to comprehend the amount of glitz and glamour in the banquet hall. They were so busy staring around the banquet hall that they almost didn’t notice Hugo offering his hand to shake.

“I spent such a long time deciding on a wedding gift that’s fitting and within my budget.” Nicole handed them a custom made figurine of two bangboos in wedding suits, with one of them sporting a white veil. “Go on, say that you love it.”

…

Wise was sitting in the dressing room when Lycaon came in to announce the arrival of his sister and their parents, who were (strangely) the last guests to arrive. His mother was the first to enter the room and immediately swept him into a hug so tight as if he would vanish if she loosened her grip even just a bit. His father was grinning from ear to ear, and the only time he remembered him smiling like that was during Belle’s wedding and the birth of his grandson. Belle had her hands around the right arm of her husband, who was cradling their sleeping one-year-old son in his arms.

“We had so much trouble getting Lucas dressed. He’s so dramatic, I swear.” Harumasa said, glancing at the sleeping child on his shoulder.

“He certainly takes a lot after you.” Belle scoffed as she poked a manicured finger at his cheeks.

Harumasa let out an exaggerated gasp. “Why, I’d never! When have I ever caused you trouble?”

Belle tilted her head as she placed her thumb and finger on her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Oh I don’t know, when you stepped on a lego brick and said you were too injured to go to work? Or the time when you took a few sips of champagne and collapsed on the floor pretending to be drunk just so we could leave the charity gala early?”

She then turned to her brother. “You should enjoy your childless days while you can. Those eye bags of yours are going to get bigger when they come in the picture. And if they’re anything like Hugo, well… don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

…

Wise shouldn’t be nervous about the vow renewal. After all, he’d done this before, years ago. But at the same time, this was different. This time, he had all his friends that he’d made over the years with him. This time, he had bridesmaids who hadn’t been pulled from the ranks of his family at the last minute to make up numbers. This time, he was going to mean it.

“Ready to go?” his mother asked him quietly. “Belle says they’re ready for you.”

He drew in a deep breath as he adjusted the collar of his vest one last time. He was wearing the same cream white mohair suit with a pocket boutonniere that he arranged himself: pale blue delphinium blossoms with scabiosa on a background of dusty miller, green leaves, and berries. The veil, not traditional but somehow feeling necessary, was sheer gold chiffon with scalloped edges in gilded thread and beads.

He linked his arms with his father’s as the doors opened for them, not able to hear the music through the blood rushing through his ears and cheeks as he walked along the seemingly endless flower covered aisle as everyone’s eyes were on him. Little Eous was walking in front of them, grabbing handfuls of pink petals and scattering them with his stubby hands, to which the guests cooed over.

At the altar, standing patiently, was Hugo in a dark suit that contrasted well with his hair and made it shine like it was weaved out of gold. Lycaon stood faithfully by his side as his best man once again, and beside the wolf thiren was Robin holding a white silk cushion with two gold rings that sparkled under the lights of the hall.

Truth to be told, they were still feeling their way, not sure of the path. But they fully trusted the one standing beside them, ready to catch them if they fell. Love was a scary place when they had been fighting it for so long. But now that they were here, they wouldn’t trade this for anything else in the world.

This time, when he walked down that aisle and let the veil fall at last and said, “I do,” he would say it with all ‌his heart.