Chapter 39

The morning sun had settled warm and golden over the palace gardens. Est walked between his parents and younger sisters, listening as a court attendant explained the history of the marble pavilions and carefully tended flower beds. His sisters ran ahead, delighted by the fountains and the peacocks strutting across the lawns, their laughter ringing bright in the still air.

He was halfway through pointing out a line of rare orchids to his mother when movement at the edge of the path caught his eye.

  William.

But not William in the soft shirts and easy smiles Est was growing used to. Today he wore his official military dress – deep navy fabric tailored to his tall frame, medals catching the sunlight, a sword belted at his side. The sight made Est falter for a beat, curiosity flashing across his face.

William strode toward them with steady confidence, but when his eyes landed on Est, they softened, just a little.

“May I borrow you for a moment?” he asked, voice pitched politely for the family’s sake.

Est nodded, stepping aside with him, gaze still fixed on the uniform. “You look…” he hesitated, the corner of his mouth twitching up, “…very official today. Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes.” William exhaled, a faint shadow of regret in his tone. “There’s some business I have to see to. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

Disappointment tugged at Est’s chest, but he kept his smile steady. William must have seen the flicker in his eyes, though, because he added quickly, “I’ve asked Hong and Nut to keep a close watch on you. Hong will take care of your family while you’re here, so you don’t need to worry. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Est’s lips curved, warm but faintly rueful. “It’s alright. This is your duty, isn’t it? I’ll be fine. Just… come back soon.”

Something in William’s expression tightened. He reached forward before he could think better of it, fingers catching gently along Est’s jaw, tilting his face up. The closeness sent a rush through Est – heat sparking low in his chest, breath catching as though William really might lean in, kiss him right there in the open.

But just as William shifted, Est’s sisters shrieked in delight behind them, racing after a peacock with outstretched wings. The sound broke the spell.

William froze, blinked, then let out a small, almost sheepish laugh. He shook his head and stepped back, hand slipping away with lingering reluctance. “Goodbye, love,” he said quietly, the words soft but sure, before turning and striding back toward the palace gates.

Est stood rooted a moment longer, watching the proud, straight line of his back until he vanished from view. Only then did he let out the sigh he’d been holding, the ghost of William’s touch still burning along his jaw.

______

By the time Est finally returned to his chamber, the palace had quieted to a hushed rhythm. He’d seen his sisters tucked away safely in their guest rooms, shared a few last words with his parents, and bowed his head goodnight. The long day of tours and polite conversation had left him weary, but when he pushed the door open, the sight waiting inside made him pause at once.

On the table stood a vase so overflowing it nearly startled him – roses, easily a hundred or more, their scarlet petals a living blaze against the pale marble. The heady scent filled the room, lush and intoxicating. Beside them, laid neatly, was a book bound in fine leather.

Est smiled before he even touched it. Of course.

He carried it to the chair by the window and eased into the cushions, running his thumb over the cover. But when he opened the first page, something slipped free and fluttered onto his lap – a folded piece of parchment.

Est stilled, heart giving an involuntary thump. He unfolded it carefully, eyes tracing the familiar handwriting, each line tightening something low and hot inside him.

My Love,

By the time you read this, I’ll already be gone. Yet it feels as though I’ve left half of myself behind in your chamber tonight. I will miss you – your smile, your voice, but most of all, the way your body fits against mine as though it belongs nowhere else.

Every night, it will be your touch I ache for. The brush of your fingers at my nape, the press of your chest to mine, the taste of your mouth – Gods, Est, I will remember it all. I will remember the way you shudder when my lips find your neck, the way you soften when I hold you close, and I will hunger for it as though starving.

This morning, it nearly destroyed me. To step back without kissing you, to let you go when every bone in me ached to pull you in, to feel your mouth opening beneath mine – it was torture. My restraint was not for lack of wanting; it was because I wanted too much. If I had taken you then, I would never have left.

So when I return, you will make it up to me. You will kiss me until I can’t breathe, and you will let me touch you until you tremble. I want to feel you under me, inside me, needing me as much as I need you. And I promise – I will not be gentle when I claim what I’ve been made to wait for.

Love, always,
Your W.

The paper trembled slightly in Est’s hands by the time he finished. His breath had gone uneven, the words searing through him with more weight than he’d prepared for. There was heat threaded through the tenderness – an intimacy William hadn’t dared show in the garden, but one he clearly couldn’t keep back in ink.

His eyes skimming the words once, then again, slower this time, as though afraid he might miss something. With each line, his pulse quickened, a warmth spreading through him that was far from innocent.

“Every night, it will be your touch I ache for.”

He swallowed hard. Instantly, he remembered the night before – William’s lips teasing his skin, the gentle weight of his body pressing him into the mattress, the way Est had whispered filthy promises into his ear, unable to stop himself. The memory made him shiver, his body tightening with a need that hadn’t yet cooled.

“It nearly destroyed me to step back without kissing you.”

Est’s eyes closed, his head tipping back against the chair. He could feel it again, that almost-kiss in the gardens – William’s hand gripping his jaw, the faint parting of his lips, the heat sparking in his eyes before he’d pulled away. Gods, if only his sisters hadn’t been there… Est’s chest ached with the thought of what might have happened if William hadn’t stopped himself.

“You will kiss me until I can’t breathe… I will not be gentle when I claim what I’ve been made to wait for.”

His breath caught. Heat pooled low in his stomach, spreading, heavy and insistent. He thought of William’s voice – low, commanding, hungry – of the way his hands had slid beneath Est’s shirt, and clung to his shoulders when Est was buried deep inside him. He thought of the way William had pulled away, coaxing him to stop, when Est wanted nothing more than to be undone completely beneath him.

Est pressed the letter to his chest, his heart hammering, his body betraying him with its hunger. He ached – everywhere, in his chest with love, in his throat with unsaid words, and lower still with a need that throbbed more fiercely the longer he remembered.

He whispered into the quiet room, almost as if William could hear him across the distance:

“I miss you. Gods, I miss you so much… my prince.”

The words left him trembling, wanting, aching in a way that no gift or letter could soothe.

Est pressed the letter to his lips, closing his eyes for a long moment. The roses perfumed the air, the room suddenly feeling far too warm, far too charged. He set the note gently on the table beside him, though his fingers lingered on the edge of the paper, reluctant to let go.

Curling into the chair, the book forgotten in his lap, he exhaled slowly. The ache of William’s absence had only just begun, and already he knew it would haunt him until the day the uniformed figure strode back through the palace gates.

__________

Few days later.

The library was hushed, the fire throwing long shadows against the shelves as Est sat curled in a chair, his book open across his lap. He was finally beginning to feel strong again – his body healed, his mind steadier. His family’s laughter in the halls had been medicine as much as William’s letters while he was away. Tonight, though, they were away – off riding and hunting, leaving him to the quiet.

The quiet didn’t last.

“Still hiding in books, are you?”

The voice dragged a chill down his spine. Est didn’t look up. He knew it too well.

Crown Prince James strolled into the room as though it belonged to him, his steps slow, mocking. “I hear you’ve been recovering for days. Fragile constitution, is it? Or perhaps you just enjoy the coddling.”

Est’s eyes stayed fixed on the page before him, though he hadn’t read a word since the first syllable. His tone was flat. “If you’ve come to waste my time, I’d rather you didn’t.”

James’s smirk sharpened. “Cold as ever. No wonder William finds you appealing – he always did like his challenges.” He leaned against the back of a chair, arms folded. “But don’t mistake me. I’ve no quarrel with you. You’re nothing. A piece on the board, perhaps, but not the opponent.”

At that, Est’s gaze finally lifted, cool and sharp. “Then why are you here?”

James’s smile widened. “Because William needs to suffer. And you – lucky you – are precisely what he values. Do you know how pathetic that is? He clings to you like some lovesick fool. Love – ” he almost spat the word, ” – is a disease. It makes men weak. And William has always been weak.”

Est’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

James let out a low laugh. “Still silent? You make this too easy. Fine then – I’ll give you something worth responding to.” He leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Do you know where William turned, while you were gone? Who kept his bed warm?”

Est’s fingers stilled on the book.

“It didn’t take him long,” James went on, savoring the words. “A few days, perhaps, before Lord Kenta found his way into William’s chambers. I saw the proof myself – the marks on William’s neck, the kind one doesn’t earn from polite conversation.” His eyes glittered. “Kenta was playing the game well, too. He might have had William, if he hadn’t botched it. Pity. Still – quite a picture, isn’t it?”

For the first time, Est’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing like drawn steel. His expression gave nothing away, but the sudden sharpness in it was undeniable.

James only smiled wider, sensing the shift. “Oh, you don’t believe me,” a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You know, Est… people grieve in their own ways. Some throw themselves into drink, some into prayer.” His eyes slid to Est, glinting with malice. “And some… well, they find comfort where they can. Warm beds, softer mouths.”

Est’s jaw tensed. “William is not like that.”

James chuckled, a low, mocking sound. “Not like that? You think the prince has lived untouched, all this time you were gone? Kenta was always there, always circling, always offering. Do you truly believe William never noticed? That he didn’t take what was so… conveniently presented?”

Est’s glare sharpened, but his voice stayed controlled. “William told me himself. No one touched him.”

At that, James laughed outright, a cruel bark that echoed off the stone. “Did he? Gods, he lies better than I thought.” He shook his head slowly, lips curled in mock disappointment. “Perhaps no one touched him… but what of his hands? His lips? Perhaps he was the one doing the touching.” James leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was confiding a secret. “Tell me, Est – do you really believe he spent every night aching for you, and never once reached for someone else?”

“I believe him,” Est snapped, though quieter than he meant, as if saying it aloud was a defense against James’s venom.

James only smiled wider, tilting his head. ” Good. That makes it all the sweeter. Just ask him yourself, when he returns. Watch his eyes. You’ll know. Ask him why Kenta walked with bruises on his throat and scratches down his arms. Ask him why people whisper of how quickly he found solace after your absence.” He sipped his wine, savoring Est’s stiff silence. “If you’re right, you’ll have nothing to fear. But if you’re wrong…”

Est’s fists curled tight, nails biting into his palms. He wanted to deny it again, to shut James down completely – but a flicker of unease stirred inside him. William’s voice replayed in his mind: No one touched me. Firm, earnest. Yet James’s mocking laughter clung to him, sticky and poisonous.

For the first time, a small, unwelcome crack of doubt took root in Est’s chest.

_____

By morning, Est’s exhaustion lay hidden beneath the careful discipline of his face. No one needed to see the restlessness that had hollowed out his night. Not his family, not the servants – and especially not William when he returned. William deserved his loyalty, his faith, not shadows and suspicion.

But the seed would not die.

He found himself that afternoon in the barracks yard, where Sir Jeff and Dylan were going over patrol notes. They greeted him warmly, as they always did, with the mix of respect and camaraderie William’s chosen guards offered him.

“Est,” Jeff greeted, his face breaking into a rare smile. “It does me good to see you upright again. You’ve given us all reason to worry.”

Dylan dipped his head respectfully. “Truly. Are you well now?”

Est inclined his head, his expression calm. “Better. Strong enough to begin training again soon, and I will be rejoining the force before long.” He let the assurance linger, though his voice carried no flourish, only quiet certainty.

“That is good news indeed,” Jeff said warmly. “The men will be glad to have you back at their side.”

For a moment, the air felt lighter. But then Est’s gaze sharpened. He lingered longer than usual, the words clinging to the back of his tongue. Finally, he asked, voice deceptively casual, “Tell me something,” he said quietly, drawing both men’s attention. “While I was gone… did either of you hear anything spoken about William?”

Jeff frowned, his lined face betraying surprise. “Spoken in what sense, my boy?”

Est kept his voice even, his eyes fixed on him. “Any rumours. Whispers. I would rather hear them than be kept blind.”

Both men went still. The statement landed like a stone in still water, rippling outward in silence.

Jeff was the first to answer, clearing his throat. “Only what people mutter. That the prince was… protective. That he wouldn’t let you be forgotten.” He smiled faintly. “That he made sure you had every comfort, even when others grumbled about it.”

Est’s chest warmed briefly at that – but the doubt dug deeper. “And nothing else?” he pressed.

Jeff shifted uncomfortably. Dylan glanced at him, then back at Est. “Rumours are cheap,” Dylan muttered. “They spread in kitchens and corridors, from lips that have no idea what truth is.”

Est’s gaze sharpened. “And yet you’ve heard them.”

Sir Jeff, the older knight shifted uncomfortably. “Gossip is a poor meal, Est. It feeds no one but those who starve for scandal.” He paused, then sighed, conceding. “But yes. I heard talk – of Lord Kenta. That he was seen… too often near William. That perhaps their closeness was not entirely innocent.”

The words settled heavily. Est’s expression didn’t move, but his hand tightened imperceptibly on the rail. “Rumours,” he repeated softly.

“Yes,” Jeff confirmed quickly. “Nothing more than that. I never saw such things myself.”

Est’s gaze turned to Dylan. The younger guard had gone still, his mouth pressed thin, eyes flicking away. “And you?” Est asked.

Dylan hesitated, then exhaled. “I was posted at William’s door in your absence. I saw Lord Kenta enter his chambers more than once. He remained there for hours.” His words were careful, measured. “But that does not mean what others like to assume. A man can speak, or scheme, or drink, behind closed doors.”

Yet his tone carried no conviction – only unease.

Est studied him, unblinking. “Still, you found it worth remarking.”

Dylan’s jaw tightened. “I found it… difficult to ignore. But I never saw what went on inside. And I’ll not put words to what I didn’t witness.”

The silence that followed was worse than any accusation. Their discomfort weighed more than the rumours themselves, more than James’s venom.

Est inclined his head at last, voice calm. “I thank you both. I will see you soon.”

He left them there, outwardly composed, inwardly more unsettled than before. The rumours could be lies. Dylan’s sightings could mean nothing. But the hesitations, the reluctance, the shadows in their eyes – those gnawed at him far deeper than James’s barbed tongue ever had.

______

Est carried his unease like a stone in his chest. James’s mocking voice, the guarded tones of Jeff and Dylan – it all pressed at him in the quiet moments. But he refused to let the shadows take root in full. His family had come to visit, and he threw himself into their company with deliberate intent.

He walked the gardens with his mother, discussing flowers and herbs as though the world were only soil and sunlight. He sparred lightly with his younger brother in the practice yard, offering corrections, laughter, and rare encouragement. He even joined Nut and Hong for long afternoons of chess and reading, letting the rhythm of the hours blur his restless thoughts.

If there was a seed of doubt inside him, he buried it beneath duty, conversation, and family warmth.

So the days passed, each one carrying him further from his weakness, closer to the soldier he was meant to be.

Until one early evening, when the sound of wheels on stone made his heart stutter.

Est stood on one of the high balconies, the soft clink of teacups and the murmur of his family behind him. Below, the palace gates swung open, and a carriage rolled through, banners fluttering in the fading light. He didn’t need to be told whose it was. His body knew before his eyes confirmed it.

William.

Est’s breath caught, sharp and unsteady. A pang struck him deep, raw and immediate. How he wanted, in that moment, to forget everything – the venomous words, the doubt, the whispers – and simply run. Run down the corridors, down the marble steps, through the courtyard until he was there, pressed against William’s chest, his mouth claiming the reunion he craved with every fiber of his being.

But he stayed. His fingers curled tight against the balcony rail. He stayed, because to rush down would mean surrendering without question, without thought, and he was no longer certain what answers William might give if he asked.

So he only watched, silent and unmoving, as the man who consumed him disappeared back into the palace halls.

______

Est sat in his chambers, the faint glow of the fireplace casting soft shadows across the room. A book rested in his hands, though his eyes barely traced the words; his thoughts were elsewhere. He couldn’t bring himself to go meet the prince, even though an attendant had just informed him of William’s return. The mixture of longing, apprehension, and the unease from their time apart kept him rooted in place.

About an hour later, a soft knock at the door drew his attention.

“Come in,” Est said quietly.

The door opened.

William stood there, framed in the doorway, a bouquet of roses in one hand. His expression was radiant, a wide, hopeful smile lighting up his face. Half-expecting to be engulfed by Est’s arms and devoured, he instead froze for a moment.

He looked tired – shadows under his eyes, hair mussed from travel – but his smile was as devastating as ever. Even from a distance, Est saw the exhaustion in him – the slump of his shoulders, the faint drag in his gait as he descended from the carriage. Yet it did nothing to dim him. William’s beauty was still paramount, a blaze even in weariness, his presence cutting through the dusk like a torch carried home.

For a heartbeat, he only stood watching Est, as though surprised by the stillness, by the way Est hadn’t already rushed across the room into his arms.

“Hi,”  William said softly.

Est merely looked up from his book, calm, controlled, and remarked in a neutral tone, “Hi… You’re back. Was it… a fruitful journey?”

The words hit William harder than he expected. The sparkle in his eyes faltered, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. Their long separation should have guaranteed a heated, emotional reunion – yet here, Est was distant, measured, contained.

He forced his smile, still clutching the flowers. “I missed you, my love,” he said softly. “I came to see you as soon as I could.” He stepped closer, handing the bouquet to Est, pressing the flowers into his hands. “For you.”

He leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss on Est’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Est replied quietly, his tone polite, guarded.

Est took them slowly, fingers brushing his just briefly, and placed them aside. The silence stretched.

Instead of rushing across the space, William sank into the chair opposite, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His eyes never left Est’s, as though searching for something beneath the still surface.

William’s brow furrowed. “Have you been… well?”

“Yes,” came the clipped reply.

William’s heart sank at the brevity, at the slight distance behind the word. He forced a laugh, trying again. “Are you fully recovered now? Taken care of properly while I was away?”

“Of course,” Est answered, eyes still flicking back to his book, voice even.

William’s chest tightened. Something was off. He tried to coax, his voice softening, layered with worry. “And… while I was gone… nothing happened, right?”

Est’s reply was steady, practiced. “It was fine.” He held William’s gaze, light enough to pass for calm, but too intent – sharp enough to pierce straight through.

William hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into Est’s lap, bury his face against his throat, kiss him until he forgot his own name. But that gaze… it unsettled him. “What happened?” he asked, voice gentler, more pressing. “Did something happen while I was away?”

“No,” Est said. Flat. Controlled.

William’s lips pressed into a thin line. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Please… tell me, love. You seem… upset. You seem distant. I just want to know that you’re alright.”

Est’s response was the same – short, controlled, unyielding.

William paused. A heaviness settled in his chest. He swallowed, then dared, ” Why won’t you tell me? What happened?”

Est’s response was measured, controlled. “Nothing that concerns you.” His lips curved faintly in a way that was teasing, almost cruel, but the heat in his eyes belied vulnerability beneath the mask.

The weight of it struck William with a sting he hadn’t anticipated. The excitement, the longing, the hope of their reunion – all met with measured calm instead of the fiery welcome he had imagined. He inhaled sharply, a sigh of disappointment escaping his lips and hurt mingling in his gaze. He rose to his feet, disappointment flickering across his face, as though he’d just lost something he couldn’t name. “I see… I’ should let you rest… Goodnight, my love.”

He turned, walking toward the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The voice behind him stopped him cold, sharper than the crack of a whip.

William turned slowly – and nearly stumbled back. Est was already standing, close enough to touch, close enough to feel the heat rolling off his body. His hand slid around William’s waist, tugging him flush.

Est’s voice was low, almost mocking, but trembling underneath with need. “You come back after days, and you think you’re leaving me with flowers and a polite ‘goodnight‘? No kiss? Not even a touch? Did you not miss me at all?”

William’s breath shuddered. “Of course I did,” he whispered, throat tight.

Est’s tone was a blade wrapped in velvet – sarcastic, cutting, but a tinge vulnerable beneath. He stepped forward, closing the distance until William felt the warmth of his breath on his lips. “Tell me – did you find someone else to hold while you were gone?”

The question hit low, half a joke, half a wound.

William’s chest heaved as he exhaled, pained, almost desperate. “Impossible. My heart ached for you. My body ached for you. Every night.” His voice cracked on it, raw. “I don’t have anyone else, Est. There is only you.”

“Then why didn’t you touch me the moment you walked in?” Est pressed, voice soft, dangerous. His fingers dug into William’s waist, pulling him flush. “Why were you leaving me with flowers and empty words?”

William’s lips trembled as he whispered, “Because you felt… distant. Not yourself. And I didn’t want to push. I thought – maybe you didn’t want me tonight.”

Est’s jaw tightened, then softened. His eyes burned with something between hunger and fear. “You thought wrong.”

“Show me,” he whispered, breath hot on William’s mouth. His nose brushed William’s. His lips hovered. “Or are you too afraid to touch me now?”

“I thought…” William’s voice faltered.

“I’m right here.” Est’s voice cracked low, raw. His grip on William’s waist tightened until it was bruising. “And I want you.”

The last word broke the tension like lightning. Est crushed his mouth against William’s, hot and consuming, tongue sliding past his lips with no hesitation. William moaned instantly, fingers tangling in Est’s hair as the kiss turned filthy – teeth grazing, lips bruising, tongues sliding in frantic strokes.

Est paused, mouth ghosting over William’s, barely a breath apart. “I missed you,” he whispered. “I craved you. Every night I wanted you. I wanted to be buried deep in you, stretching you out, filling you until you couldn’t think. I wanted to scream your name into the dark until I was hoarse.” His lips brushed William’s, teasing, filthy. “I wanted to taste you every morning, to choke on you before breakfast, for you to ride me until you couldn’t anymore. And you walked in here with flowers and restraint?”

William’s breath hitched, cock straining painfully against his trousers, relief and arousal crashing through him in equal measure. His eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck – Est – darling – “

Est pressed him back until William’s shoulders hit the wall. He swallowed every gasp, every whimper, grinding against him hard enough to make William’s hips jolt. His hands slid down, cupping William’s ass, squeezing, lifting – William’s legs wrapped around him without thinking, clinging as Est held him there, mouth still devouring his.

“Say you want me,” Est demanded, kissing him, hot and filthy, tongue sliding into his mouth and owning it. His grip tightened on William’s ass, grinding their cocks together.

“I want you – Gods, Of course, I want you,” William moaned, hands clawing at Est’s shoulders, his thighs opening wide as Est pressed him into the wall. “You don’t know – how close I was to breaking – “

“Break now,” Est growled, devouring his mouth, sucking his tongue, biting his lips until they were swollen and wet. William gasped, clinging, head tipping back as Est’s mouth found his throat, sucking bruises deep and dark.

“Est – ahh – fuck – ” William moaned, grinding shamelessly against him, cock aching. His head thudded back against the wall as Est kissed down his neck, teeth scraping, tongue licking, hands roaming under his shirt to pinch and tease his nipples.

“You’re mine,” Est muttered against his chest, voice rough, breath hot. “No one else gets this. No one else gets you. I’ll fuck you so deep you’ll forget anyone but me.”

“Please,” William begged, voice breaking, his body writhing against Est’s. His cock leaked through his trousers, desperate for friction. “Take me love – make me yours – “

Est’s kisses turned frantic, messy, mouths colliding, tongues fighting, grinding harder until William was panting, half-crying into his mouth.

And still Est whispered filthy promises between kisses, each one hotter, filthier, until William’s whole body trembled with want.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Est muttered against his mouth, sucking his tongue deep, his hips rolling down hard enough to make William gasp. “Mine. Only mine. I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

Pinned, breathless, grinding against Est’s body with every roll of his hips, William finally broke, whispering against his mouth: “Then ruin me, But don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

________

Some spice and heat and some more tension to come.

Hope y’all enjoy this chapter. I know y’all waited long for this update but I was very busy with my exams. Thankfully they’re done now so I can go back to my regular posting schedule.

As always don’t forget to leave me your feedback, votes and comments! They motivate me greatly.