Chapter 21

The corridor outside William’s chambers was quiet.

Est stood where he had all evening – long after the other guards were dismissed. He didn’t move. Not even as the hall emptied. Not even as the candles burned low.

He waited.

And waited.

For the summons that never came.

And eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He stepped forward, heart tight, knocking softly at the chamber doors. One of the attendants cracked it open, surprise flickering in their eyes, but they didn’t question. They simply stepped aside.

Est walked in.

The prince was seated near the low table by the balcony, already unfastening the heavier pieces of his formal attire, his back partially turned. A lamp flickered to life near the bed.

Est’s boots felt too loud against the floor.

He stopped a few paces in, spine straight, fingers clenching behind his back.

“…May I come in?” he asked, voice low, tight with restraint.

William didn’t turn.

“You already are,” he said flatly. “Seems you come and go as you please these days, so what’s the point of formality?”

The words landed like a slap.

Est’s throat closed. He swallowed around it.

“I – I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. “For last night. I didn’t mean…”

He trailed off. The words sounded so small in the room. Pointless. Weak.

William, still not facing him, reached for the ribbon tied at his wrist and began to pull it loose. “Yes. I read your letter.”

That was all.

No warmth. No scorn. Just a simple fact. A wall between them.

Est stood frozen.

A breath. Another.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, more softly this time. “I know that doesn’t fix anything. But I need you to know – I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wasn’t… thinking clearly. I lost control.”

Silence.

William placed the ribbon carefully on the table. His shoulders rose, then fell. Still no glance back.

“I shouldn’t have – ” Est began again, voice cracking slightly. “You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

William didn’t move.

Est’s chest tightened. He took a step forward, then caught himself.

“I keep thinking about it,” he said. “The way you looked at me after. And the way you didn’t.”

Still nothing.

“I would take it back if I could.”

Another beat passed.

“You can say something,” Est said finally, voice breaking around the edges. “You can yell at me. Hit me. Hate me. Just… say something.”

Still, William said nothing.

He only picked up another ribbon, slowly untying it from around his other wrist.

And Est, despite everything in him, stood there in the quiet – shoulders heavy, eyes burning, guilt thick as iron in his throat.

He had come hoping for a door to open. But all he found was silence.

And the sound of his own heart cracking beneath the weight of it.

—–

Est stood motionless.

He didn’t speak again. Didn’t move. Just watched in silence as William, calm and deliberate, untied the last of his ceremonial garb and set it aside with care. Every movement was quiet. Unhurried. Too quiet.

The silence was intentional.

Punishing.

Est swallowed hard, guilt roiling in his chest.

Est wanted him to snap. Yell. Curse. Cry. Anything but this brutal silence.

But William said nothing.

He crossed the chamber, bare feet soundless against polished stone, and disappeared behind the screen. The soft splash of water came next, the gentle clink of a pitcher being poured into the tub. The faint rustle of towels.

Still, Est stood there. Waiting. Burning.

Minutes passed.

Then William reemerged – damp hair brushed back, a fresh robe tied neatly around his waist, the red flush of the bath still softening his skin. He didn’t look at Est. Not once.

He moved to the drinks tray, poured himself something amber and smooth, and sat – cross-legged and regal – on the low couch near the hearth. His eyes flicked to Est, not cold exactly, but unreadable.

And finally, he spoke.

“Why are you still here?”

Est opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed hard.

“I don’t know,” he said, honestly. “I just… I need you to say something. Anything.”

William took a slow sip from his glass.

“Be angry,” Est said, quieter now. “Be furious. Say I’m unforgivable. Or that you never want to see me again. Just… say something.”

William looked into his drink for a long moment, swirling the liquid slightly.

Then: “In your letter,” he said softly, “you wrote that it wasn’t because you didn’t care. But because you did. A lot.”

Est nodded immediately. His head was bowed now, the words catching in his throat. “It’s true.”

William’s voice was still calm when he said, “You hurt me yesterday.”

Est’s head snapped up, eyes filled with pain. “I know. I – William, I – “

But William held up a hand, stopping him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t what you did. Not physically.”

Est froze. Confused. Guarded.

William’s eyes met his then – finally – and his gaze was sharp. Steady.

“It was after,” he said. “When I reached for you.”

Est blinked. “What – ?”

“When I was half-conscious,” William said, “aching, vulnerable. I reached for you. And you… flinched away.”

The room fell deathly still.

Est opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

William’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t break. But it struck.

“You didn’t even acknowledge me,” he said. “Didn’t let me in. And that hurt more than anything else you did to my body.”

Est took a step forward without meaning to. “I didn’t – I wasn’t thinking. I was still overwhelmed, still angry. At myself, at everything. I didn’t even realize I did that.”

His voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He sank to his knees slowly. Not in penance. Just… because his legs couldn’t hold him anymore.

“I hurt you too badly.”

William exhaled softly, watching him.

“You did,” he said.

And then, quiet as a breath: “But I’ve had worse.”

The words hung in the air like a thread cut loose.

Est’s head jerked up, eyes wide.

The silence that followed was instant and jagged. William seemed to realize what he’d said the moment it left his mouth. His body stilled. Est froze, breath caught halfway through a word that never came.

“…Worse?” Est said finally, voice low.

But William turned his face to the side, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
“It doesn’t matter.”

A heartbeat. Two.

Est wanted to ask but William pushed on, like it hadn’t slipped. Like nothing had just broken open between them.

“I knew what I was doing,” he said. “Provoking you. Testing you. I could’ve stopped it. I didn’t.”

He sipped his drink again, slower this time.

“I knew how rough you can get,” he added, a faint heat rising in his cheeks now. “And I… I didn’t mind.”

Est blinked.

William didn’t look at him. But his voice lowered, more honest now.

“I might’ve wanted that side of you. A little too much.”

A pause. Then a bitter chuckle.

“But clearly, I didn’t understand what came with it.”

Est looked hollowed out – guilt still etched into every line of his body, but now joined by something else. Something more raw. Fragile.

His voice, when it came, was hoarse. “You said you’ve had worse.”

William didn’t reply.

And Est let it go, for the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Est said again, quieter this time, almost more to himself. “For letting my emotions get the better of me.”

William studied Est’s face – tight jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the way he avoided looking too long at the bruises he himself had left behind.

“You didn’t stop,” William said, softly. Not accusing. Not cruel. Just honest. “But I didn’t say stop, either.”

Est opened his mouth. Closed it again.

“Est,” he said softly, “you didn’t – ” He paused, searching for the right words. “You didn’t cross a line. Not during, at least…”

Est’s brows knit tighter, guilt still plain in his eyes. “I should’ve known. I should’ve held back. You were already sore and I kept going. I saw the look on your face and – “

William reached out and touched his wrist, firm and steady. “If it was too much, I would’ve stopped you.”

Est blinked.

“I would’ve said no,” William continued, voice calm but earnest. “I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to. I wanted you.” His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “Even when you were rough. Maybe… especially then.”

Est stared at him, startled.

William gave a faint, lopsided smile. “I like it when you lose control a little. When I can feel how much you want me. It’s not… bad. I wasn’t scared, Est. I just…” He trailed off, then exhaled slowly. “I liked it. It was okay.”

William’s voice dropped even lower. “But when I reached out to you, needing you and you… that was what made me feel small. Like I didn’t matter. Like maybe I was just something you used for a moment and then threw aside.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t amused. “I’ve… been made to feel like that before. I didn’t think I’d feel that way with you.”

Est opened his eyes at that, sharp and hurting.

“You weren’t,” he said immediately, voice hoarse. “You’re not – William, you’re not just – ” His breath caught. “I never thought of you like that. Never.”

“I thought you were disgusted with me,” William whispered. “Like you couldn’t even bear to be touched by me.”

His voice caught, just slightly.

“And it wasn’t just the pulling away,” he went on, lower now. “It was your face. You didn’t even look at me. Like I’d been… used. Like I’d done something awful. Like I meant nothing.”

Est’s mouth parted, but no words came.

“I know you were angry. I know I pushed you.” William’s hands tightened in his lap. “But in that moment, I felt so small. Like I didn’t matter. Like all I was to you was a warm body. A place to put your rage.”

His voice cracked. Just a little.

“And I know I flirt. I tease. I play the part I’m expected to. I smile and I charm and I let them think they’re wanted – because that’s what’s expected of a younger prince. That’s the role. But that’s not me, Est.”

William finally looked at him, eyes shining now.

Est took a slow, shattered breath.

“I didn’t know,” he said. “I didn’t think – “

William just held his gaze.

“Then don’t act like it,” he said gently. “If you care about me, then… stay after. Hold me. Be angry, be jealous, be rough – hell, I don’t care. Just be there when it’s over.”

He gave Est a small, broken smile. “I don’t need you to be soft. I just need to know you’re still mine when it’s done.”

Est looked like he’d been punched in the chest. His hands curled in his lap, nails digging into his palms.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I was angry, yes. But mostly at myself. And I… I got overwhelmed. I didn’t know what I was doing. And I didn’t want you to see me like that – like a mess.”

“You think I haven’t been a mess in front of you?” William said. “Do you think I care?”

Est shook his head slowly, lips parted. “I just didn’t want to… make it worse.”

William studied him for a moment. “That’s what hurt, Est. Not the sex. Not the bruises. Just the way you made me feel like I didn’t exist to you when it was over.”

Est’s face crumpled – something twisting deep and terrible in his chest. He opened his mouth again, but William gently pressed on.

“I need you to tell me something,” he said. “Clearly. Honestly.”

Est looked up, wary.

“I thought,” William said carefully, “that you wanted this. Me. Us. That the way you got jealous – the way you looked at me – meant you cared. That you wanted to be here.”

“I do,” Est said, quick and fierce.

“Then tell me,” William said. “Because last night, for a moment, I thought you hated me. I thought you were angry at more than just the flirting. I thought – maybe you felt trapped. That I forced this on you. That you didn’t want to be in my bed anymore.”

“Last night felt like you hated me” William whispered. ” It feel like you were trying to punish me for something I didn’t understand.”

He took a breath. “And I want you to know… if that’s the truth, you can go.”

Est stared at him, stricken.

William continued, quieter now. “I won’t create problems for you. I won’t lash out or retaliate. If this – ” he gestured faintly between them ” – if it’s not what you want anymore, then you’re free to leave. I’d never keep you here against your will.”

Est stood abruptly.

“No,” he said, voice shaking. “Don’t say that.”

William tilted his head, watching him carefully.

“I’m not here because of duty. Or a contract. Or pressure.” Est stepped closer. “I’m here because I want to be.”

He hesitated. Then added, more raw: “Because I don’t know how to not want you.”

William’s breath caught.

Est’s voice dropped. “You think I’m angry at you? No. I’m angry at myself. For caring too much. For being so easily rattled. For not knowing how to handle it when I’m so close to losing control.”

“You don’t have to handle it perfectly,” William whispered. “You just have to stay.”

There was a pause.

And then Est stood.

Not to leave.

But to cross the space between them and kneel.

His hands found William’s – rough and trembling.

Est looked up, slowly. Met his gaze. “I will stay,” Est said. “If you’ll have me.”

William’s expression crumpled, but this time he leaned forward – and kissed him.

A soft, tear-laced kiss. Messy and human and full of trembling need.

And when it broke, William exhaled into his chest. “Good. Because I want you to stay.”

Est was still on his knees before him, hands wrapped tightly around William’s.

But something shifted behind his eyes – something wounded and bare.

“I didn’t know,” Est said quietly. “How you felt.”

William blinked, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion.

Est swallowed. “I didn’t think I had the right to care this much. To feel like this.”

His grip on William’s hand tightened faintly.

“You’re a prince,” he said, voice rough. “And I’m – well, I’m yours. But you… you were never mine.”

William’s lips parted, something like pain flickering behind his eyes.

Est went on, gaze dropping. “When I agreed to this arrangement, it was attraction, heat, lust. Opportunity. I told myself I could handle it. That I could be whatever you needed. Play the role. Keep my distance.”

He exhaled shakily. “But that changed. Fast.”

He looked back up, expression twisted with guilt and confusion.

“And it scared the hell out of me. Because I didn’t think someone like you could ever want someone like me. Not like that. Not really. And so I kept my mouth shut. I thought it would pass.”

William just stared – unmoving, eyes wide – taking in every word.

Est’s voice cracked now. “But it didn’t pass. It got worse. Every time you smiled at someone else, I felt like I was being torn open from the inside, and I hated myself for it. Because I didn’t think I was allowed to feel this way.”

Silence stretched between them. Until William slowly reached out – one hand cupping Est’s jaw, thumb brushing softly along his cheekbone.

“Est,” he whispered. “You are allowed. Of course you are.”

Est’s breath hitched.

William’s expression gentled. “That contract… it’s not what you think.”

Est blinked. William’s voice was low now, almost tender.

“I didn’t ask for it to keep you tied to me or just to use you for my own reasons,” he said. “I asked for it because of something that happened before. That I don’t intend to repeat.”

He looked away for a beat, then back. “The contract is just… armour. A way to protect myself. I never meant it to keep you from feeling. Or believing you mattered.”

Est looked stunned. Like something had just cracked wide open inside him.

“I’d started to guess this was bothering you,” William admitted. “I could feel it under the surface. I just… I didn’t realize it went this deep. When I said those things to you, that you don’t have the right to care, it was only me trying to provoke you – I didn’t mean it.”

William gave a soft, rueful smile. “I thought you knew. I thought it was obvious. But I guess… I should’ve said it.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to Est’s.

“You matter to me,” he whispered. “You don’t have to keep your distance. Not from me. Not anymore.”

“I wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to keep you,” William said gently, “if I didn’t care.”

Est’s eyes fluttered shut – but his eyes remained downcast – like the weight of the moment was still heavy.

But William just smiled softly, letting his fingers drift from Est’s cheek to his jaw, tilting it up gently.

“Come now,” he murmured. “We’ve both made mistakes.”

Est’s brow furrowed – guilt still etched into every corner of his face – but William leaned in, brushing their foreheads together again.

“We said things we didn’t mean. We acted out of fear, anger. But we’ve talked now. We understand each other better.” His thumb stroked along Est’s jaw. “That’s what matters.”

Est closed his eyes, swallowing thickly.

“We’ll move forward,” William said gently. “Together.”

“And not repeat the same mistakes again,” he added, with a crooked little smile. “I mean, you can still be jealous – just talk to me before trying to break me in half next time.”

That got a faint huff of laughter from Est. Barely there – but real.

William grinned and leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. “You’re allowed to care. Allowed to feel. But you’re also allowed to talk to me, you know. I promise I don’t bite.”

Est gave a low, breathless chuckle and finally nodded, just once.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I know,” William replied. “I know you are.”

He leaned in once more, brushing a light kiss against Est’s lips. It wasn’t heated – just soft. Grounding.

William shifted on the couch, stretching slightly. His robe loosened a bit at the collar. He didn’t miss the way Est’s eyes lingered – just for a second – before darting away.

He gave a small smile, more teasing than serious.

“Well… if you’re still that sorry,” he said, swirling the edge of his glass with one finger, “you could make it up to me by holding me tonight. Properly. Without the bruising this time.”

Est blinked.

He opened his mouth to respond, but then stopped – because something about the joke, light as it was, hit too close. His expression tightened almost immediately, guilt flashing across his face like a stormcloud.

“I – ” he faltered. “I shouldn’t’ve – “

William saw it. The shift. And softened again.

“Hey.” His voice lowered. “I meant what I said.”

He rose from the couch and came to stand before Est, robe brushing the tops of his bare feet.

“I like that side of you,” he said quietly. “The roughness. The way you lose yourself in it. I like seeing what I do to you. What you do to me.”

He reached up, lightly brushed Est’s cheek with his knuckles.

“But I also like being held after,” he added, voice growing softer. “Because I can’t always say what I’m feeling. And sometimes I just need to feel it. That I matter. That I’m safe with you, even after everything.”

Est’s brows pulled together, like he didn’t quite believe it. “You really like it? All of that?”

William gave him a tiny, tired smile. “I really do.”

It took only a second before Est moved – standing slowly, taking William’s hand without a word, and leading him toward the bed.

They slipped under the covers in silence. William lay on his side, back to Est at first, but Est reached out and gently pulled him into his chest, cradling him carefully. Like something precious. His arms wrapped snug around William’s waist, one hand splaying over his heart.

They lay in bed, curled into each other like they hadn’t been in weeks. The moonlight spilled gently across the covers, painting William’s pale skin in silver and shadows. Est held him close, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other curled loosely around his waist, fingers brushing bare skin beneath the prince’s robe.

It felt fragile. Real.
Like something hard-won.

Est pressed a kiss into his shoulder. Then another, against the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry.”

William didn’t reply. Just sighed and relaxed into the warmth.

Est kissed his temple next. Then his jaw. His cheekbone. The corner of his mouth.

Soft, slow kisses. Reverent. Apologetic.

He kissed his spine, the knobs of his shoulders, the soft space behind his ear.

“Sorry,” he whispered again. 

Est’s mouth found the nape of his neck next, lingering there. “For last night,” he murmured. “For being a coward. For not staying. For leaving you alone when you reached for me.”

Another kiss, just below the ear.

Each kiss was gentle, patient. Not demanding. Just present.

William turned in his arms at last, facing him. His eyes were lidded, but shining – still tired but softer now.

Slow, deliberate. His face was soft in the moonlight, eyes lidded but awake, watching. The shadows clung to the bruises on his neck, to the pink at the edges of his lips. His expression said nothing and everything all at once.

Est cupped his jaw with one hand, thumb stroking his cheek. Then kissed him.

Soft. Still. Barely more than a brush.

Then again.

And again.

Until William responded – until his hand curled behind Est’s neck and pulled him in deeper.

The kiss grew languid, melting. Long, open-mouthed, slow. Their breaths tangled between passes, tongues brushing, lips parting. William sighed into him, pliant, letting Est taste him – patiently, reverently – like he was trying to memorize him all over again.

Est groaned quietly when William’s thigh hooked around his hip, tugging him closer. His fingers slid under the prince’s robe, brushing bare skin, mapping the curve of his spine.

But instead of giving in to the rising heat, Est pulled back slightly – just enough to rest his forehead against William’s.

His voice came low, breath warm against William’s lips. “You were right.”

William blinked up at him, dazed. “About what?”

Est swallowed hard. “It wasn’t just about what you did. It wasn’t you.” He closed his eyes briefly. “It was me. It’s this… situation. The role. The difference between what I feel and what I think I’m allowed to feel.”

William searched his face silently.

“I was jealous,” Est admitted.

William’s brows furrowed faintly, gaze softening.

“Not just of the people looking at you, touching you, laughing with you. But knowing that this is who you have to be, for the world – A prince. And not . . . mine.”

William exhaled slowly, thumb brushing Est’s cheek.

Est’s voice cracked, just slightly. “It scared me. Wanting you this much. I didn’t think I was allowed and that made me angry.”

William leaned in and kissed him – slow and deep again, answering in the only way that mattered.

When they broke, he rested his forehead against Est’s. “You do,” he whispered. “You do have the right.”

Est looked like he didn’t believe him – but he kissed him again anyway.

This time, the kiss lingered even longer. Their mouths slid together, again and again, gentle but insistent, almost lazy in the way they explored – tongues brushing, teeth grazing, sighs catching between kisses.

It was warm. Intimate. A kind of apology and forgiveness wrapped into every pass of lips and fingers.

William whimpered softly into one of the kisses, hips shifting forward – but Est caught them, grounding him with a hand, pulling back with a breathless laugh, forehead resting against William’s.

“No,” he whispered. “Not tonight.”

William frowned, breath still shaky. “Why not – ?”

“You’re injured,” Est said, brushing his thumb over William’s waist. “Still sore. You need to rest.”

William pulled back a little, breathless. “You’re really saying no?”

“You’re sore.”

“I’m fine.”

“You were limping earlier.”

“Exaggeration,” William whispered against his mouth, nipping his lower lip.

Est chuckled, husky. “You’re impossible.”

William pouted faintly. “And you’re no fun.”

Est chuckled, low and soft. “I’m being considerate.”

William nuzzled closer anyway, lips brushing Est’s collarbone. “Fine. But only because I’m too tired to fight you.”

Est grinned into his hair and kissed the top of his head.

“I’ll take it.”

They were quiet again.

Eventually, William’s breathing slowed, and his body began to go slack in Est’s arms. He was drifting.

Est kissed his temple again and slowly, gently pulled away, reaching for the small wooden jar the attendants had left on the bedside table.

He rolled back the covers carefully and helped William onto his stomach.

“What are you doing?” William mumbled, barely lifting his head.

“You’re bruised,” Est whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

William made a sleepy little noise and allowed it.

Est uncapped the jar and warmed a small amount of the balm between his fingers. He started at the shoulders – working slow, gentle circles into the prince’s muscles, careful of the bruises that mottled his skin. Down the spine, across the sides of his ribs, over his hips.

Every motion was reverent. Quiet. Like an apology spoken without words.

When he reached the backs of William’s thighs, he hesitated. Then nudged gently.

“Part your legs for me,” he said softly.

William obeyed, drowsy and trusting.

Est’s breath caught at the sight of him – still pink, still swollen, evidence of what they’d done lingering between his legs.

“I’m so sorry,” Est whispered again, lower this time.

He dipped his fingers into the balm and began carefully applying it to the sensitive skin – slow, featherlight, not to arouse, only to soothe. He spread it gently over the bruises, around the tender rim, careful to check for any small cuts or tears. And then, without thinking, he leaned down –

– and pressed the softest kiss to the injured skin.

William made a small sound. Not of pain. But of surprise.

Est looked up, mortified.

“I wasn’t thinking – “

“Did you just apologize to my ass?” William asked, voice thick with disbelief and drowsy laughter.

Est flushed, utterly thrown. “No – I mean – yes? I didn’t mean to – It just felt – “

William rolled over and reached for him, dragging him close by the front of his shirt. “Come here, you idiot.”

He kissed him. Deep and slow. A kiss of forgiveness, of affection, of something that had long since passed affection into something far more dangerous.

“Gods,” he murmured between kisses. “You’re such a softie underneath all that brooding muscle.”

Est groaned against his lips. “You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“No,” William said, clearly delighted. “Never.”

They settled again, tangled up and warm beneath the covers. Est cradled him close, one hand stroking lightly up and down his back.

And then – William whispered, lips brushing Est’s collarbone, “You know, I already knew you felt sorry. Yesterday itself.”

Est blinked. “What?”

“I was awake,” William said. “When you were sitting there in the dark, looking like you were about to cry.”

Est froze.

“And,” William added with a small smirk, “when you cleaned me up. And applied the balm. I wasn’t fully asleep.”

Est pulled back, stunned. “You – What?”

William smiled sleepily and tucked his face back into Est’s chest. “I just… may have wanted you to stew for a bit today. Teach you a lesson.”

Est gaped, then laughed – full-bodied, disbelieving.

“You evil, wicked little – “

“Mm,” William hummed, clearly pleased with himself. “That’s Prince Evil Bastard to you.”

Est kissed him hard, laughing into it.

Then held him like he never wanted to let go.

And this time, William held him right back.

And in the silence that followed, they lay there – finally close again, without anger, without shame. Just two aching bodies trying to find comfort in each other’s warmth.

——-

Well, they’ve made up. For now. 

Even though they’ve communicated, there’s still a lot more to unravel – but for now. Sit back and enjoy them being sweet to each other.

Before the next round of drama arises of course.

Hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. And if you did, don’t forget to leave your thoughts in the comments for me!