Chapter 30

The palace halls felt different with Kenta in them.
The air itself seemed heavier – sweet on the surface, bitter beneath. He moved through the corridors like he owned them, dressed in dark silks, his smile bright and warm for anyone who didn’t know him.

The king and queen didn’t.

At the morning meal, Kenta stood beside James, laughing at something the prince had said. The sound was smooth, pleasant – almost charming enough to make William forget the venom in it when no one else was listening.

Almost.

“Your Majesty,” Kenta greeted with a graceful bow as the queen entered, his voice honey-thick. “It’s an honor to be under your roof again.”

“Again?” the queen asked, intrigued.

“Briefly, years ago,” James interjected smoothly, his grin bright and unthreatening. “He was a guest of mine. Old friend.”

Across the long table, Est’s gaze never left Kenta. He stood a step behind William’s chair, hands clasped behind his back in formal stillness, but his eyes were sharp and restless. He’d been like that since dawn – every time Kenta moved, Est’s attention followed.

Kenta caught the look and smiled faintly, as if amused by the scrutiny. Slowly, deliberately, he let his gaze slide from Est to William, lingering a fraction too long on the curve of William’s jaw before lifting his cup to drink.

William felt it. His hand tightened slightly on the silverware, but he didn’t look up.

James noticed. Of course he did. And when their eyes met across the table, the prince’s smile shifted – lazy, knowing, edged. The kind of smile that promised he’d be keeping score.

Breakfast carried on with polite conversation. Kenta spoke easily with the king about foreign trade, about his family’s holdings, about his so-called “service” in diplomatic missions abroad. Not a single word was untrue, but every phrase was calculated to polish his image.

The king was impressed. The queen laughed at his jokes.

William kept his answers short.

And Est… Est didn’t blink.

—–

Later, in the grand gallery

The royal family and their guests strolled past painted battle scenes and marble busts. William walked beside the queen, discussing the recent restoration of the west wing.

Kenta drifted behind them with James, his voice low enough to stay private – at least to anyone but Est.

“…How long until you think I can get him alone?” Kenta murmured.

James smirked. “Patience.”

Kenta’s eyes flicked forward, to where William was leaning in slightly to listen to the queen. “He looks thinner. I remember a time when – “

Est shifted suddenly, falling back half a step to put himself directly between Kenta and William, cutting off his line of sight. His voice was even, but cold.

“You should keep your eyes where they belong.”

Kenta tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Where else would they be?”

Est didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Kenta smiled faintly and stepped to the side, allowing James to slip between them. James gave Est a look as he passed – one eyebrow raised, a silent dare.

By the end of the afternoon, William was tired. He excused himself early, claiming work. Est followed, as always.

Behind them, Kenta watched them go, one hand resting lazily on the back of James’s chair.

James leaned back, voice low enough for only Kenta to hear. “Don’t rush. He’s already off-balance.”

Kenta’s smile was small and sharp. “Good. I like him that way.”

From the far end of the hall, Est glanced back – just long enough to catch James’s smirk.

He didn’t like what he saw.

—–

Est caught James alone after the council session, halfway down a quiet corridor lined with tall windows. The sunlight threw long shadows over the polished floor, making the space feel emptier than it was.

“Why are you doing this to him?” Est’s voice was low but carried a sharp edge.

James turned leisurely, his expression all innocent curiosity. “Doing what? I thought you’d be grateful. I’m giving my brother a chance at happiness again.”

Est’s jaw tightened. “By bringing him back? That’s what you call happiness?”

James spread his hands, mock-offended. “Kenta was important to William. They were in love once. Maybe they still are.” He let the words hang there, like bait. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered if he still thinks about him.”

Est took a step forward. “Reel him in, James. Keep him on a leash, or I will.”

James’ brows lifted in mild surprise, but his smile never faltered. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning.” Est’s tone dropped into something darker. “Last night, your friend tried to crawl into William’s bed. He kissed him while he was half-asleep. I was there.” His voice was pure steel now. “If he tries something like that again, I won’t hesitate to kill him.”

James’ smile sharpened. “You really have no idea where you’re meddling. William and Kenta – ” He leaned closer, almost conspiratorial. ” – they were a story for the ages. Passion, devotion… the kind of love most people never see. William only ended it because – well, it doesn’t matter. He was shattered when Kenta left. Heartbroken.” His smirk was deliberate, cruel. “You think you’ve replaced that? That you even could?”

Est’s eyes went cold. “I don’t care about your stories. Whatever they were, it’s over. And if Kenta doesn’t get that, I’ll make him understand.”

James chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You can protect him all you want, soldier, but deep down, you’re afraid I’m right. That maybe… he’d take Kenta back.”

Est didn’t answer. He just stepped in close enough that James had to lean back slightly, his voice low and lethal.
“If you really care about your brother, stop testing me.”

Without waiting for a response, Est turned and walked away, leaving James smiling faintly after him – not because he’d won, but because he’d found a fresh way to get under Est’s skin.

—-

Est found William in the library, bent over a ledger. He didn’t notice Est at first – or if he did, he pretended not to. Only after a few quiet moments did William close the book and stand.

“I need air,” he said simply, as if the words were a decree.

They left the palace without much conversation, walking side by side through the manicured gardens. The air was heavy with the scent of summer blooms, and a low rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.

Est noticed it first. “We should head back.”

But William shook his head, eyes lingering on the horizon. “It’s fine. Just a little longer.”

The first fat drop of rain landed on the stone path, then another, and within seconds the skies opened. They made for one of the ivy-covered archways, sheltering beneath it – but the wind came hard from the side, hurling sheets of rain through the open lattice. The stone underfoot darkened with water, and William’s robe clung to him, his hair plastered against his face.

He was already trembling.

“Alright,” Est said, decisive, “we’re running for it.”

“It’s not far,” William agreed, almost smiling through his shivers.

They took off together, boots splashing through puddles, the palace lights blurring through the downpour ahead of them. By the time they reached the doors, both were soaked through, hair dripping, breathless – and for a moment, the tension between them cracked open into something lighter, almost boyish.

Inside, Est barked an order to the nearest attendants. “Hot bath. Now.”

William’s servants hurried to obey. Est stood aside, wringing out the edge of his tunic, ready to leave before his own damp presence could be an inconvenience.

But William’s voice stopped him. “Stay.”

Est turned.

The single word stopped him mid-step.

William’s eyes found his – still sharp even through the damp lashes, still able to pin him in place. “You’re soaked too. And cold. You’ll warm up faster with me. Unless…” his gaze slid down Est’s chest, to the water dripping from his shirt, “…you’re shy?”

Est’s jaw flexed. “You know I’m not.”

“Then stay.”

William’s gaze held his. “Warm up with me. In the bath.”

For a heartbeat, Est hesitated – then gave a short nod. “Alright.”

The attendants returned briefly to announce the bath was ready, bowing before slipping out at Est’s silent glare. They were alone.

Est stepped forward, the steady thump of his boots loud against the quiet hum of rain still tapping at the windows. William stood in the middle of the chamber, breath misting faintly in the cool air.

William stood by the bath, his drenched robe dripping onto the tiles, clinging stubbornly to the lines of his body. Est stepped forward, saying nothing. His fingers found the robe’s sash, pulling it loose with unhurried precision.

Est started with the prince’s outer coat, fingers at the clasps. The soaked fabric resisted, sticking to William’s body, and Est peeled it away slowly, the drag revealing the faintest shiver in the prince’s frame. His shirt clung sheer to his skin underneath, the curve of his shoulders, the lines of his chest visible through it.

The soaked fabric parted, revealing pale skin still marked with the faint shiver of cold. Est slid the robe from William’s shoulders, his knuckles brushing along the prince’s arms as the garment fell soundlessly to the floor. He didn’t look away as he took in the sight before him – and William, unabashed, let him.

William didn’t move away – instead he reached up, finding the fastenings at Est’s own collar. “Fair’s fair,” he murmured. His hands moved next, tugging at Est’s tunic, peeling it upward. The wet fabric clung, forcing Est to bow slightly as William worked it over his head. For a moment, William just stood there, eyes roaming, committing every drop of water clinging to Est’s skin to memory.

Piece by piece, they stripped each other down – not hurried, not shy, but deliberate. Every touch lingered a fraction longer than necessary. Every glance spoke without words.

Est worked William’s shirt free at the same time, tugging it over his head. The fabric stuck to his back, pulling William forward into him for the briefest second, skin against skin where their chests brushed.

“You’re freezing,” Est muttered.

“You’ll warm me.” The answer was immediate, quiet but certain.

Boots, belts, trousers – each layer came off with that same slow care, water pooling at their feet. Est’s hands skimmed bare skin as he worked, over hipbones, down the backs of William’s thighs as he freed him from the last of it. William’s own hands were no less deliberate, sliding Est’s shirt off his arms, then pushing trousers down over the muscled lines of his legs.

Steam curled up from the water, scented faintly with something herbal. William stepped in first, sinking into the heat with a low sound that made Est’s jaw tighten.

He followed, settling opposite him at first, the water lapping at their shoulders. For a moment, neither spoke, just watching the rivulets of water bead and roll over flushed skin.

“Come here,” William said finally, and Est moved without argument, closing the distance until William’s knees framed his hips.

Est reached for a cloth, dipping it into the water, then running it over William’s chest. His hand lingered more than necessary, gliding up over collarbones, down between ribs, over the smooth plane of his stomach. The prince tilted his head back slightly, eyes heavy-lidded.

“You’re thorough,” William murmured.

“You’re filthy,” Est returned, low, though his voice had roughened in a way that wasn’t entirely about dirt.

William smirked faintly. “Fix it, then.”

Est’s gaze kept flicking up to meet William’s, and in those moments the heat in the room wasn’t just from the bath.

The cloth drifted lower with each pass, skimming over William’s hip, dipping briefly between thigh and groin before sliding away again. Est’s eyes were fixed on the path of his own hand, watching the way water beaded and ran off William’s flushed skin.

William’s breath hitched. “You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m cleaning you.”

“You’re avoiding,” William said again, quieter this time, leaning forward so their chests nearly touched. “You don’t have to.”

Est’s hand stilled on his thigh. The water steamed between them, the faint herbal scent clinging to every breath. Slowly, deliberately, Est’s eyes lifted from where the water hid them to meet William’s gaze.

It was William who closed the space, his damp fingers sliding up the back of Est’s neck, coaxing him in. Their mouths brushed once – light, testing – before William pressed harder, angling his head, drawing the kiss out until Est’s breath turned heavier, lips parting against his.

When they broke apart, Est was breathing through his nose, watching William like a man weighing whether to step over a line.

“You erased him last night,” William said suddenly, his voice quiet but carrying in the thick heat between them. “Every time you touched me – every time you were inside me – you pushed him further away. I don’t remember his hands. I don’t remember his mouth. Just yours.”

Est didn’t answer at first. The cloth dipped into the water again, wrung out, moved lower over William’s stomach. His jaw was tight, but his touch was gentle.

William’s gaze didn’t leave his face. “But it’s not enough. Not yet.”

Est’s eyes flicked up. “Not enough?”

“I want…” William swallowed, his voice almost breaking before he steadied it. “…more of you. All of you. Until I can’t think straight. Until my body aches tomorrow because it’ll remind me of you.” His lips twisted, almost bitter. “Because you’re going to leave, Est. And when you do, I want to carry you with me, in every breath and every step, for as long as I can.”

Est’s hand stilled against his skin, the cloth floating loose between them. There was a flicker in his eyes – something raw, like William’s words had hit deeper than they should have.

“Kenta never made me feel like this,” William said softly, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. “Not even close. I’ve never – ” His breath caught, almost a confession he wasn’t sure he should give. “…never felt this with anyone before.”

The heat between them shifted, thickened. Est’s breathing grew heavier, but there was hesitation in his grip when he cupped the back of William’s neck.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said, voice low, almost rough.

William’s answer was quiet but unyielding. “I do. I know exactly what I want. You.”

Something broke in Est’s restraint then. He pulled William forward, water surging over the rim as he brought him into his lap. The wet slide of their bodies made William shiver. Est’s hands gripped his hips, not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough that William knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re making it harder to leave,” Est murmured, almost like it was a warning to himself.

“Then don’t,” William breathed, brushing his lips against Est’s, barely touching. “Stay tonight. Stay until you can’t anymore. Just… stay.”

Est closed his eyes for a moment, as if the request hurt more than it should. When he opened them again, there was no hesitation left – just heat, and something deeper neither of them dared name.

William’s thighs slid against Est’s under the water, slick and warm. The steam blurred the world down to just the two of them, the faint sound of rain still tapping against the high windows.

Est’s hands stayed at William’s hips, holding him still for a moment, like he was making one last decision before crossing a line he knew he couldn’t uncross.

William tilted his head back slightly, eyes heavy-lidded, breath shaky. “Please…”

The word landed between them like a spark on dry wood.

Est’s grip shifted, guiding William forward until their chests were pressed together. He leaned in, mouth brushing along William’s jaw, the curve of his ear, down the side of his neck. William shuddered, fingers tangling in Est’s wet hair.

“You’re trembling,” Est murmured against his throat.

“You’re the one making me shake,” William answered, his voice low but clear.

Est’s lips curved – just slightly – before he caught William’s mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. His tongue teased its way past William’s lips, deepening until it was nothing but heat and breath between them. When they broke apart, William’s lips were slick, swollen, his eyes dark with need.

Under the water, Est’s fingers trailed from William’s waist down between them, brushing deliberately against his length before sliding back to his entrance. He didn’t push in yet – just circled, stroked, teased, making William’s breath hitch and his nails bite lightly into Est’s shoulders.

“Est…” The name came out more like a plea than a word.

Est watched his face closely – watched the way every faint change in pressure showed in his expression. Then, without warning, he eased the tip of himself in, slow enough to feel every inch of resistance give way. William’s mouth parted in a sharp, breathy moan, and Est didn’t move further for a moment – just watched, eyes locked to where their bodies met under the shifting water.

“God… you feel – ” William broke off, voice catching as Est sank in deeper, inch by deliberate inch, until William was flush against him, seated fully in his lap.

Neither moved right away. William’s hands framed Est’s face, holding his gaze. There was no wall in his expression, nothing guarded – just that open, desperate want.

“Move,” he whispered.

Est’s first thrust was shallow, testing, but when William exhaled with a low, needy sound, Est’s restraint cracked. His hips rolled up into him, slow but deep, and William’s head fell back, the arch of his throat begging to be kissed. Est’s mouth claimed it instantly, teeth dragging lightly over damp skin.

The rhythm started steady, rougher than the tenderness of their bath had been, but not careless. Est’s hands roamed over William’s slick back, down to his ass, guiding each movement with deliberate control. William clung to him, every slow grind making his breath hitch, every deep thrust pulling another broken sound from his lips.

It shifted – like it always did – without words. The pace slowed, became something so intimate it almost hurt, their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling. Est’s eyes stayed locked to William’s, watching every flicker of pleasure, every little vulnerability that slipped through.

When William came, it was with a muffled cry against Est’s shoulder, body shaking, and Est followed not long after, burying himself deep one final time, his breath ragged in William’s ear.

They stayed like that, catching their breath, water lapping gently around them. Est’s hands smoothed over William’s back in slow strokes, grounding him.

“…Still not enough,” William murmured after a while, voice hoarse but tinged with something soft, almost sad. “But it’ll have to do. For now.”

Est didn’t answer, but his arms tightened around him under the water.

—-

The firelight painted everything gold – the curve of William’s cheek, the slope of Est’s shoulder. Outside, rain still whispered against the glass, but inside it was all warmth and stillness.

William lay curled into Est’s side, their legs tangled under the heavy quilt. Est’s hand rested on his hip, tracing idle patterns, but there was something in the touch – careful, almost too careful – that made William tilt his head to study him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured.

A hum was the only answer.

William shifted closer, sliding his hand up Est’s chest until his palm rested over his heartbeat. “That’s not like you. When you get this silent, it means you’re thinking too much.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.” William said it softly, not accusing, just certain.

Est’s eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he could will the conversation away, but William wouldn’t let him retreat. He ran his fingers over Est’s jaw, the pads of them dragging lightly over the faint stubble, coaxing him to look. “Talk to me. Don’t do that thing where you bottle it up until it turns into something ugly.”

“I’m not – ” Est began, but William leaned in, cutting him off with a slow, lingering kiss. Not urgent, not hungry – just warm enough to coax, to make refusal harder.

When William pulled back, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Tell me.”

Est finally met his eyes. “I spoke to James.”

Something flickered in William’s expression, but he kept his voice calm. “…What about?”

“I told him to rein Kenta in. That if he ever – ” Est’s jaw tightened. “If he ever tried something again, I wouldn’t stop at warnings.”

William’s hand slid to the back of his neck, grounding him. “And?”

“He laughed.” The word was flat, bitter. “Said you and Kenta used to be in love. That maybe you still were. He… implied things.” Est’s gaze dropped to where his hand rested on William’s hip, thumb brushing over the bone. “He doesn’t know how close I am to proving him wrong in a way he won’t recover from.”

William exhaled slowly, fingers curling just slightly in Est’s hair. “Est. Look at me.”

When Est obeyed, William’s voice was steady but quiet, threaded with something fierce. “I was attached to him, yes. Once. But it wasn’t love – it was infatuation. A child’s kind of love. I didn’t know better then.” His thumb brushed over Est’s cheekbone, a slow, deliberate touch. “It ended. And it’s not coming back.”

Est’s eyes searched his face, but his silence spoke volumes.

“James knows that,” William continued, softer now. “He’s not doing this for me. Kenta’s here to provoke you, not me. So… don’t let him win. Don’t give him what he wants.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other. The warmth from the fire was nothing compared to the heat in the quiet space between them.

William’s hand slid lower, stroking over Est’s ribs in slow, reassuring sweeps. “You’re here. That’s what matters. And if you need me to say it again, I will.”

Est’s throat worked, but he didn’t speak. Instead, his hand curved around William’s back, pulling him in until their foreheads rested together. The air between them felt charged – not with desire this time, but with the kind of closeness that came from being seen and still held.

William smiled faintly, brushing his lips over Est’s in a soft kiss that lingered, coaxing away the tension. “Easy,” he murmured against his mouth. “You don’t have to fight me too.”

Est’s answering exhale was low and quiet, but his arms tightened, holding him like he might never let go.

—-

The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in faint orange shadows. The rain had softened to a steady patter outside, lulling the palace into the kind of deep quiet that felt like the whole world was sleeping.

William stirred in the dark, half-surfacing from dreams. The bed was warm beside him, but the heat wasn’t right. He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting, and saw the outline of Est sitting up against the headboard.

One hand rested on his thigh, the other absently spinning a knife by the hilt – a familiar, silent motion that meant his mind was turning too fast.

“…You’re awake.” William’s voice was husky with sleep.

Est glanced down at him, eyes shadowed in the dim light. “Couldn’t sleep.”

William pushed up onto an elbow. “Because of James?”

Est didn’t answer. He set the knife aside and reached for the quilt, pulling it higher over William’s bare shoulder as if the cold was a bigger threat than anything else. “You should sleep.”

“I will,” William murmured, sliding closer. His knee bumped Est’s thigh. “But not until you’re lying down again.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” William shifted until he was between Est’s legs, back resting against his chest. His fingers found Est’s hand and laced through it. “You’ve been tense since you came back. You’re looking for a fight in the dark.”

“I’m watching,” Est said simply.

“For who?” William tilted his head back to catch his gaze. “Kenta isn’t going to slip in here and steal me away in the middle of the night.”

Est’s jaw flexed. “If he tried, I’d hear him.”

William turned fully then, knees on either side of Est’s hips, straddling him under the blankets. His palms framed Est’s face in the dark. “You’re here. I’m here. And no one else matters right now.”

The silence stretched, heavy and unbroken except for their breathing.

William leaned in, brushing a slow kiss to his mouth. It was nothing like last night’s desperate pull – it was patient, coaxing, almost lazy in its confidence. When he pulled back, he rested their foreheads together.

“Sleep with me,” he said softly.

Est hesitated. Then, finally, he eased back down, letting William tug the covers over them both. William curled against him, arm draped across his stomach, feeling the faint tension still humming in Est’s body.

“Still watching?” William whispered against his skin.

“Always,” Est murmured.

William smiled in the dark, closing his eyes. “Good. Then I can sleep.”

Est didn’t answer, but his hand smoothed over William’s back in slow, protective passes until his breathing evened out – though his own eyes never quite closed.

—-