Chapter Text
Shadow Milk is good with royalty.
Having been an actor for twenty-two years, he’s gotten good at pretending he cares and respects them. All he has to do is smile and weave his words around their rich little ears, and they’re giggling and swooning like he’s their private court jester.
He’s always had to be good with royalty. In the beginning, being polite meant that the theaters in the area got funding. Being the best meant that he got paid. So he created his masks. He perfected his craft.
And even when he stopped acting, he still performed.
He still performs.
He performs for the dying king right in front of him.
Shadow Milk swirls his wine around, eyebrow cocking at how the man in front of him chokes on a piece of chocolate. His wrinkly hand beats his own chest before he clears his throat and turns to Shadow Milk.
“Apolgies,” he says, “that little nugget went down the wrong pipe.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Shadow Milk muses, giving him his signature grin. A grin that attracted his specific king to him.
The king laughs and takes his own empty glass. He pours himself a cup.
“Ah, it is so great seeing you again,” he says, “you always seem so busy despite not working anymore.”
“Oh you know me,” Shadow Milk waves off, “I always need to have something to do. Don’t want to die of boredom in my retirement.”
The old king chuckles, sandpaper dough dragging along his face as he smiles. “Of course. I expect nothing less from my successor.”
Successor.
The word tickles his ears. The pit that sits in Shadow Milk’s gut only grows once he notices a familiar face in the corner. The pink ink that grins her devilish gleam. Shadow Milk averts his eyes in favor of the king before him.
“As always, Your Majesty,” he says, bringing his cup up to his lips.
“Oh please,” says the king, “you don’t have to call me such a thing. We’re on a first name basis here.”
Shadow Milk’s finger twitches. “Right. Apologies, Rose Gold. You know how it is.”
“Oh, it’s quite alright, son.”
His whole chest twists. Rose Gold lifts his cup up and takes a sip. Shadow Milk watches, eyes occasionally flitting to the figure in the corner.
Rose Gold turns around. “Is something there?”
The devil grins.
And Shadow Milk sighs. “Thought I saw something.”
“Hmm, oh, there it is.”
A fly buzzes in front of the pair, the old king slamming it down against the table. Shadow Milk looks away, fingers clenching around his glass. As Rose Gold wipes the bug’s remains off on his pants, Shadow Milk’s gaze stays on the fireplace.
There was a fireplace at the event he was announced as the future king of the Grandiflora Kingdom.
Shadow Milk has always been good with royalty–kings especially.
All it took was one performance in this rosy kingdom for its sovereign to approach him. They shook hands. Shadow Milk continued his show. And Rose Gold has been none the wiser.
A monarch with no heirs, desperate for someone to take his place when he dies.
He trusts no one else, it seems.
And what do you know? Here’s a charming actor that’s oh-so-interested in his little kingdom.
It was a dream come true for the old man.
Before Shadow Milk knew it, Rose Gold was inviting him to every private event held in the kingdom. He’d show him off to the wealthy, and then as the decade went on, he began showing him off to the continent. And then to the world.
Because lookie here, everyone! The Grandiflora Kingdom houses the most acclaimed actor in all of Earthbread. The actor chose this kingdom to perform his last few shows in. He chose this kingdom to retire.
And what do you know? The actor has a soft spot for politics.
Maybe if things were different, Shadow Milk would’ve had to spend more years convincing the king to make him his successor. But with how a certain someone plans her stories, he didn’t even need to offer it.
It was a surprise for both him and the world in front of that fireplace. And even so, he still went home and continued lying.
His gaze softens at the thought of them.
“Now, now, boy,” says Rose Gold, “I already spoke to my royal advisors regarding your transition to the throne.”
“Already?” Shadow Milk asks, not even trying to sound surprised. “But you only made it official last month.”
“I know, I know,” he says, right on cue, “but we still need to make preparations. Oh, I think I still have a few years left in me, but with how my health has been recently, you never know.”
The story chooses now to be when he coughs. He hunches over, hacking a lung all while Shadow Milk lazily glances over the devil.
She covers her mouth and giggles.
Glad someone’s enjoying the performance.
“Oh don’t say such a thing,” Shadow Milk says, placing his cup down. “You still look the same as when we met.”
“Thank you, my boy,” Rose Gold gruffs, “you are too kind.”
He clears his throat and takes a swig of his wine. “Ah, this whole thing has really taken its toll on me. Some of our alliances keep trying to talk me out of this.”
Shadow Milk stiffens a bit. “...Which ones?”
“Oh, the Spice Kingdom, for one. Though, they’ve never agreed with my decisions. We’re only still allies because of history, you know. Oh, and then there’s that new one that keeps pestering me. That one you helped me get. Oh, what was it…the Faerie Kingdom!”
He leans back and laughs, hands resting against his stomach. “Oh, those winged-folk really live up to their name, huh? They’re like gnats with how they keep bothering me. Ugh, they're weird creatures. The only use they have is their magic.”
Shadow Milk digs his nails into the table.
“Oh, apologies,” Rose Gold says, “you always seemed to get along with the king and queen, huh?”
He digs his nails until the tips of his fingers bleed. Through gritted teeth, Shadow Milk smiles and says, “Yep. I do.”
He’s been trying to keep them out of his mind this entire time. He doesn’t want to think about them in these moments. Doing so will make him sick.
They’ve been his reprieve from all this. After the end of a long month stuck here, he was always able to go back home into the arms of his boyfriend and best friend. And he could rest, and pretend like everything was fine. And they’d be non-the-wiser.
It’s been getting harder and harder lying to them.
When Rose Gold announced his successor, Shadow Milk had to spend hours convincing them that he was just a crazy old man.
When the script demanded that he spend more and more time away from home, he had to tell them that he had an image to upkeep.
An image built for the public.
That crumbles under their gazes.
…Fuck.
He doesn’t want to think about them right now. He can’t.
But now they're right there in his mind.
His warmth. His laughter and creativity. His love.
Her presence. Her humor and wit. Her friendship.
The mornings they’d spend in the kitchen.
The mornings he’d spend by his side in the gardens.
The afternoons he’d spend by her side in the study.
The afternoons they’d spend in each other’s company.
And then at the end of the day, he’d go to sleep in his arms. And he’d repeat it all again the next day. And the next. And the next.
Shadow Milk breathes. He keeps his face steady.
“Ah, well, when I’m gone, you are free to do as you please with the alliances.”
Shadow Milk tilts his head to the side. “Don’t say that. Think of the scandals.”
The old man laughs and takes his cup, taking his last sip of wine.
He sits the glass down and hums, licking his chapped lips. “I say, son, where did you say you got this wine?”
“I told you, from an old fan,” Shadow Milk teases, like he just asked the silliest question. And to be a bit extra, Shadow Milk pretends to take a sip.
The king coughs, hand pressed to his chest. “Goodness, it doesn’t seem to be agreeing with me. What’s all in this thing?”
“Fruits, I assume,” Shadow Milk muses.
Rose Gold coughs, standing up. “I see. Excuse me, my boy, I think I need a minute.
He starts walking to the large window overlooking the kingdom. This is one of Rose Gold’s favorite rooms–probably why he constantly brings Shadow Milk here.
Hand pressed to the glass, the old king heaves, Shadow Milk staying directly in his seat. “Your Highness?” he asks. “What’s the matter?”
“N- nothing, it’s nothing,” he rasps, “I think I just need some…”
His voice falters.
He steps back from the window, pointing down at the kingdom.
He turns around, eyes sunken, mouth agape.
He falls over.
And Shadow Milk lets out an exhale.
“Fuck,” he breathes, digging his fingers into his hair.
“Well done, my dear,” muses the figure in the corner. She claps, applause slow and deliberate. “Honestly, I was half expecting you to give up your little poison plan in favor of choking him once he brought up your faeries.”
“I needed his death to be believable, Sugar,” Shadow Milk grits out.
Eternal Sugar hums, taking Rose Gold’s place at the table. “Of course. Though, you know it wasn’t needed. You already had the throne. And no one would’ve blamed you for killing him.”
“Well maybe you should’ve written how he died then,” Shadow Milk spits, throwing his hands out. It knocks over his own wine glass.
“Hmm, no. I was feeling lazy.”
Sure.
Shadow Milk buries his face into his hands, trying to go over his next move. Coming up with a way to kill Rose Gold was tiring enough. He really didn’t want to get his hands dirty.
Well, thankfully for him, in researching herbs with White Lily, he was able to find the perfect little plant he needed.
All he had to do was crush it up and slip it into an old bottle of wine.
Shadow Milk pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes.
“Well, dear,” Eternal Sugar muses, “you know what’s next, right?”
“Yep,” he grumbles. He runs his fingers through his hair and gives her his most miserable smile. “I just gotta do what I do best.”
So, he stands up and screams.