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Aiden hated the crown. There was some degree of irony there, seeing as he served the crown with his life and sword. But there was a difference between the crown as a symbol of governance and the crown as an object killing his king.
“Take it off,” he hissed, fingers curling impatiently around his scabbard.
Ludwig was still looking down at the surface of the Lake, like his own reflection was giving him some kind of answer that no one else could. Which it probably was.
Aiden also hated the Lake.
The Lake of Truth was the kingdom’s only gift from the gods, the one connection they had to a power higher than themselves. And power always had a cost.
As its name suggested, the Lake would reveal a unique truth to the viewer every time they looked into it. But it would also amplify any magicwork clinging to the viewer. Something as simple as a family history of bad luck could leave someone destitute for the rest of their lives after a glance in the Lake. Like a magnifying glass concentrating sunlight until it blazed an ant to death, the Lake could distill the slightest hints of magic into something all-consuming, as violently honest as a knife to the chest.
The magic imbued into the crown was the strongest in the kingdom.
“I’m almost done,” Ludwig said. His voice sounded far away.
“Take it off,” Aiden repeated.
The long grass swayed in the wind, but Ludwig didn’t move. His body was practically catatonic. Aiden scratched his nails on the hilt of his sword without drawing it. You are in no place to order a king around.
Even so, he was about to stride forward and rip the crown off himself, consequences be damned, when Ludwig’s gaze swung from the Lake.
His fingers flew to his temple. Aiden tried to see if they came away bloody, but Ludwig was already turning away. The glint of sapphires and emeralds was so bright that almost blinded Aiden.
“How long was that?”
“Almost ten minutes, Your Majesty.”
Ludwig dropped his head between his knees. “I have that meeting with Nick, right?”
“You should lie down,” Aiden insisted, heart pounding.
“I can’t. I’ve missed the past two meetings.”
“Nick will understand that you’re dying.”
Ludwig frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The crown. It’s killing you.”
“It’s fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Ludwig looked at Aiden. He shouldn’t have been able to see past Aiden’s helmet, but Aiden could feel his eyes anyway. “I’m not lying.”
“Your Majesty—”
Ludwig stood. “Let’s go inside.”
.
Nick cleared his throat. “Look, it’s pretty simple to me. We have to attack.”
“No.” Ludwig tried to think about the scene that the Lake of Truth had shown him less than an hour earlier—the kingdom overrun with the enemy’s secret troops—but it was so hard to focus when Aiden was across the room.
Guards were supposed to disappear into the background,
Aiden’s gaze sliced through him, right to the bone.
“It would fail,” Ludwig said simply.
Nick threw his hands in the air. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? The hell does that even mean, ‘it would fail’?”
“It means it will fail,” Ludwig said. “The Lake of Truth told me so.”
“Oh, my god. You went to the Lake again? We’ve talked about this.”
“The fate of our kingdom rests upon these battles. I’ll take whatever risk I need to if it keeps my people safe.”
“They won’t be safe if you’re fucking dead.”
It was Nick who spoke this time, but it might as well have been with Aiden’s voice.
“I’m in perfect health.”
“Slime found blood in your sheets.”
Metal clanged together loudly as Aiden straightened in place. “Your Majesty,” he said darkly, “Do you have something to tell us?”
How the hell had Slime found it? Ludwig had been so careful to ask Zipper to wash them discreetly.
“Archie showed him,” Nick said as if reading his mind. “You know why he did that? Because Slime had to ask all your servants to report on anything weird. Because he knows how you are, and he knows you’d try to hide shit like this. Because you’re a fucking bastard who’d rather die than—”
“Than see my kingdom fall? Yes. My people deserve the very best, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”
“We’re well-the-fuck-aware of that!” Nick shouted. “We know how much you care about them, but you have to face the truth: you have no heirs. If you die, the chaos would give our enemies the perfect opportunity to swoop right in and take over. Nothing the Lake is telling you is worth that.”
Momentarily, Ludwig wished that Nick had magic. Even the slimmest drop from six generations ago would be enough for the Lake to grip on to, and he would understand why Ludwig needed it so badly.
But Nick, like most of the kingdom, was unblessed. For him, the Lake of Truth was little more than a pond with an ostentatious name.
And there was no way to change that. Even if Ludwig was able to disarm the crown’s magical murderous defenses against commoner blood so he could wear it, the crown and Lake alone were not enough to use the gods’ gift.
You also needed a truth of your own: a secret to present to the Lake before it would unlock the full power of foresight hammered into the crown’s metal and jewels.
And Ludwig was running out of secrets.
.
Ludwig’s hair caught the candlelight in threads of gold. They must have seated him beside a particularly amusing ducchess, because him kept smiling with that pure delight that carved into Aiden’s chest every time.
He shook his head. A knight falling for the king he guarded. The most typical story in the world, as Nick reminded him on a regular basis. But what other story could you possibly expect him to fall into when Ludwig looked like that?
“Why are you always staring at him?”
“Where else would I look? He’s my charge.”
“Shouldn’t you be assessing threats?”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “The windows are double-sealed, the food has been vetted by two tasters, the guests have gone through three rounds of approval, and I’ve checked them myself. The most dangerous thing here are the butter knives.”
Atrioc laughed. “Not bad.”
Aiden turned to him. “Why are you even here? Don’t you have a front door to guard?”
“They closed the drawbridge, I’m off-duty.”
Atrioc had a way of being off-duty every single time Aiden saw or spoke to him.
“Then why are you still here?”
“Wanted to see if you’d made any progress with your boy, but I guess not.”
“He’s not my boy,” Aiden snapped. “He is the king and he’s handling an important diplomatic affair.”
Ludwig belonged to him only in the same expansive manner with which he belonged to the whole kingdom. Aiden shared more childhood memories with him than the average commoner would, sure, but that wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
“Sure looks like it.”
Aiden focused his attention back on the table, where Ludwig was clearly telling a story to the duchess. When he laughed, he felt like someone was skipping stones over his blood.
So imagine his shock when Ludwig said, “Yes, I have my guards to thank for that. We have such excellent safety here.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” the duchess said.
But Aiden couldn’t hear the rest, because Ludwig was looking right at him.
Everything good? his eyes asked.
Aiden nodded once, stiff in his armor.
Atrioc laughed. “I’ve never seen you look this jealous. Ever.”
“Shut up, please.”
Ludwig cleared his throat. “I have an announcement to make.”
To stand beside a ruler was a very special privilege, as Aiden’s head of guard had told him time and time again.
He felt it then, when the whole table stopped to listen to their leader.
“We will delay our attack on the southern border.”
Murmurs of discontent rumbled across the dining room, but no one outright protested.
.
At the end of the banquet, Ludwig wished each of his guests well before finally, finally heading to his own quarters.
Being alone made the pain both better and worse. It was better to not have to hide it, but worse because there was no one to distract him into a more suppressed state. His temples pounded with so much heat that he wouldn’t have been surprised if the blood broke skin again.
Fuck. He exhaled loudly into the stone hallway as he remembered that he’d have to talk to Archie. There were some things that even his closest attendant did not need to know.
“Your Majesty.”
Ludwig whirled, scared out of his mind. When he saw who it was, he only relaxed infinitesimally.
“Aiden. You didn’t have to follow me.”
“It’s in the job description. Actually, that was the whole description: ‘follow and protect the king in all his ventures for all his days.’”
“You have me there.”
“You’re not well.”
Ludwig never should’ve hired him. He was too soft for the job, caring too much about Ludwig as an individual instead of what really mattered: the crown.
“The latest estimates say the enemy is running out of soldiers faster than we thought. We might only have to hold out for a few more weeks to outlast them.”
“That’s your new plan?” Aiden’s voice hovered between incredulous and disappointed, as it so often did these days. “Waiting this war out? I thought you wanted to protect your people.”
“Sometimes that means saving young men from becoming soldiers.” He eyed Aiden’s armor and added, “Like you.”
“I am not a soldier, and I never have been. Private guards are a different specialization entirely.”
Another reason he shouldn’t have hired him: Ludwig had never known another military man so concerned with playing down his status.
“Did the Lake tell you that it would be best to avoid going to battle?”
Shoulders dropping, Ludwig admitted, “It was hard to make out what the Lake wanted from me. That’s why I had to stay there for so long.”
“Does it hurt?”
No. Looking into the Lake of Truth never hurt at all. It was only after, when he was back in the real world, that the consequences set in. Gods were tricksters like that, offering before they got their full payment.
But knowing what Aiden meant, Ludwig said, “My head has been killing me.”
“It might help if you removed the crown, Your Majesty.”
Though the crown weighed a good eight pounds in total, Ludwig hadn’t realized that he was still wearing it. Since they’d entered wartime, he had become accustomed to wearing it at all hours to project a sense of strength and regal authority. It was a cheap trick, but it worked around the castle.
Ludwig reached up. But just as his fingers wrapped around the cabochon emeralds, his arms spasmed.
“Your Majesty!” Aiden rushed forward, eerily fast in his heavy armor, and took hold of the crown.
To be honest, Ludwig had never liked the look of the crown all that much. In order to incorporate all the magic-infused stones imported from nations with kinder gifts of magical mines instead of magical lakes, the design had to be quite gaudy, with a wide band of gold studded heavily with emeralds and sapphires. None of the dainty pearl and diamond creations that Ludwig used to wear as prince.
But in Aiden’s hands, the cursed thing was almost beautiful.
Suddenly, Ludwig’s throat closed.
“Thank you,” he managed.
“Let me accompany you to your quarters.”
“I can’t keep a man from doing his job.”
.
Aiden fell in step behind Ludwig, talking idly about the banquet and the wonderful leftovers that Aiden would get.
But when they reached his quarters, the air changed.
“Stay here,” Ludwig suggested abruptly. “Stay with me.”
Aiden swallowed, sensing danger on the horizon. “What do you mean?”
“Stay in the room.”
“Your Majesty, I—”
He shook his head. “You know my name. Use it.”
Please, stop asking me to do things that will only hurt me later. “Your Majesty, it would be inappropriate to enter your quarters.”
“I’m inviting you.”
“I am still a royal guard, not a noble,” Aiden said, looking only at the band of gold and jewels that was, somehow, still in his hands. “My service is to the crown.”
“Even when there is no one to wear it?”
“My king,” Aiden whispered. “Do you admit it now?”
“I’m not dying.” Ludwig reached for his hands and Aiden couldn’t tell if he was after the crown or him.
“Why do you want me here, then? I cannot protect you from pain that comes from within.”
And it kills me every day.
“I know. But it’s easier to bear when someone else is here. Stay with me, Aiden. Help me.”
The tinge of desperation in his voice sickened Aiden, but the head of guard had helpfully drilled a line into his head that floated off his lips now: “That is outside my purview. I can call for Slime, if you’d like.”
“I… No, thank you.”
Wanting to close this conversation, Aiden set the crown beside Ludwig’s bed and bowed. He wanted to leave, but he could feel that words sat under Ludwig’s tongue. While he waited, silence stretched as wide as the Lake of Truth.
“What happened?” Ludwig asked at last.
What happened was that the castle air was cold and the crown in his hands was still warm from Ludwig’s skin and it was tearing Aiden apart.
“Nothing,” Aiden said. “But, uh, your plan for the border… It sounded good. For the kingdom.”
“Everything I do is for the betterment of the kingdom.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Good night.”
Aiden pretended not to notice how his face crumpled.
.
Alone, Ludwig fought the rushing desire to go back to the Lake of Truth and review what he’d seen that morning: the battle at the southern border, bloodier and riskier than anyone had predicted, but also more successful. Instead of just defending the border, they’d plunged into enemy territory and conquered arable land that would have relieved some of the food supply stresses that had made his parents’ reign so difficult.
But to do so, they would’ve enlisted additional generals. Recent graduates from the royal academy would’ve been asked to volunteer. And Aiden would’ve offered his own name up.
“For the kingdom,” he would’ve said.
The Lake of Truth relied on the unsteady magic of the crown to project a future. No matter how long Ludwig stayed there, straining for childhood secrets to think into the water, it couldn’t tell him what would happen to Aiden. The Lake gave no assurance of his death, but none of his life either.
And Ludwig remembered the very first truth he sacrificed to the Lake—the one that enabled him to know he should hire Nick.
He was eighteen years old, freshly turned king only feet away from the graves of his parents, and he kneeled in front of the mirror-smooth surface of the gods’ gift.
Show me the future, he thought vaguely.
Tell us a truth.
The voices of the gods filled his head like a symphony, resonating through his bones. He shivered.
As a boy king, Ludwig had no shortage of private truths. Every royal secret belonged to him alone. But those were not what came to mind first. Instead, he thought, I like my new guard. A lot.
How much?
Enough to scare me.
Even back then, Ludwig knew better than to elaborate, and the gods accepted his answer.
That day, he saw visions as crisp as the best paintings. Though his parents had warned him about the crushing pain that the Lake could inflict, his head only swam a little bit.
This shit’s easy, he’d allowed himself to think.
And the gods probably laughed.