Chapter 49
The wedding day dawned beneath a sky the color of molten gold.
Est awakened with William’s scent still lingering on his skin.
For one impossible moment, lying in the quiet warmth of his chambers, he reached instinctively toward the other side of the bed.
His hand met only rumpled linen.
William had slipped away hours earlier, long before dawn had properly broken over the cliffs, stealing one last kiss before reluctantly returning to his own apartments while the palace still slept.
Goodbye, love.
The words lingered in Est’s mind with almost painful clarity.
He smiled despite himself.
Then the smile slowly faded.
Last night had been everything they had both needed.
After six weeks spent surrounded by courtiers, officers, servants and family, after stolen glances across banquet halls and fleeting touches hidden beneath embroidered sleeves, they had finally belonged to one another again.
For a few precious hours, there had been no kingdoms.
No politics.
No titles.
No futures waiting outside the chamber doors.
Only William curled against him beneath tangled sheets, laughing softly into his shoulder, kissing him until dawn threatened the windows, falling asleep with one hand resting over Est’s heartbeat as though reassuring himself it was still there.
It should have quieted the ache inside him.
Instead…
Somehow it had deepened it.
Because the night had reminded them both exactly what they stood to lose.
The promotion lingered over everything now.
Neither of them had spoken of it again after William slipped from his bed before sunrise.
Neither had needed to.
It existed anyway.
Silent.
Patient.
Waiting for them beyond the wedding celebrations.
Every embrace now lingered a little longer.
Every kiss seemed to end reluctantly, as though neither of them wished to be the first to pull away.
Even William’s smile before leaving had carried something fragile beneath it.
As though he, too, had begun quietly counting moments.
Gods.
Est hated that.
He hated that ordinary things suddenly felt precious.
That watching William sleep had become something he found himself trying to memorize.
The warmth of his body curled against his side.
The lazy way he smiled in his sleep.
The quiet little sigh he always made when Est brushed the hair away from his forehead.
Those had once been ordinary moments.
Now they felt almost sacred.
Because neither of them knew how many more remained.
Est sat slowly on the edge of the bed, his shoulder pulling faintly beneath healing stitches as he reached for the formal ceremonial uniform already laid out by the attendants.
Commander.
The word still refused to settle comfortably inside him.
Every soldier dreamed of such a future.
Every soldier prayed for recognition like the kind he had received three nights earlier.
Some spent entire lifetimes chasing it.
Many died before they ever came close.
And yet Est found himself wishing – if only for a selfish, impossible moment – that Prince Anen had never asked.
Because ambition had never accounted for William.
Love had not existed in those dreams.
Love had quietly rewritten them.
Church bells rolled across the cliffs in long echoing waves while the harbor below glittered with hundreds of ships draped in silk ribbons and lanterns left burning from the night’s celebrations. Flower petals covered nearly every street leading toward the palace, crushed beneath the feet of servants and nobles and musicians flooding the city before dawn.
It seemed impossible that only a week ago those same halls had echoed with screams.
Today, they belonged to joy again.
The kingdom had chosen celebration over fear.
Perhaps that was what kingdoms did best.
Est rested one hand against the cool stone balustrade overlooking the sea.
The wound in his shoulder had healed enough that it no longer burned with every movement, though the physicians had made it abundantly clear that he was still not to overexert himself. They had repeated the warning every morning without fail.
Est had nodded every time.
And ignored most of it.
Today, at least, he intended to.
The wedding of two royal houses was not something one simply observed.
It was history.
Behind him, the palace buzzed with life.
From the upper palace terraces, Est could see crowds gathering below the cliffs hours before the ceremony would even begin. Music drifted upward through the morning air alongside the scent of saltwater, roses, incense, and fresh bread from the city kitchens preparing for the endless celebrations to come.
Today would destroy him.
Royal attendants flooded the palace halls carrying ceremonial fabrics and jewels while nobles moved through the corridors dressed already in embroidered silks and heavy formal robes. Priests lit incense beneath towering marble archways overlooking the sea while musicians rehearsed endlessly in the lower courtyards.
Servants flooded the halls carrying flowers and ceremonial fabrics while nobles swept through the corridors in embroidered silks and jewels bright enough to blind. Priests moved solemnly through the terraces burning incense while musicians rehearsed endlessly below the marble staircases overlooking the sea.
Everywhere smelled of roses and saltwater.
Everywhere glowed.
The western kingdom celebrated lavishly, emotionally, openly – nothing restrained or cold about it. Joy spilled through the palace like wine.
Everywhere Est looked, the palace glowed.
White flowers spilled from balconies.
Lanterns swayed gently in the ocean wind.
The sea itself glittered impossibly blue beyond the cliffs beneath the growing sunlight.
And then the royal procession began.
The western kingdom celebrated weddings like festivals.
Not restrained.
Not quiet.
Joy spilled openly through every part of the ceremony.
Musicians led the procession first, drums and strings echoing through the marble terraces while nobles and royal guards followed beneath embroidered banners snapping sharply in the sea wind.
Est adjusted the ceremonial sword at his side and continued toward the eastern wing where the royal family was assembling.
As he entered the great reception gallery, the familiar instinct settled over him without thought.
His eyes searched for William.
They always did.
He found him almost immediately.
Standing beside the Queen while several western nobles greeted the eastern royal family.
William hadn’t noticed him yet. Or perhaps he had. It was difficult to tell.
He looked…
Gods.
Est forgot, for a brief foolish moment, how to breathe.
The western court had insisted every member of the visiting royal family wear formal ceremonial attire in honour of the union.
William had always been handsome.
Est had known that long before he’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.
But today –
Today he looked like something pulled from poetry.
His ceremonial coat was deep midnight blue, almost black where the light did not reach it, embroidered so intricately with silver thread that every movement caught the morning sun like flowing water. The high collar framed his neck elegantly, while the royal sash crossing his chest carried the colours of both kingdoms.
His dark hair had been tied back loosely in the western fashion, though the sea breeze had already stolen several strands, leaving them falling softly across his forehead.
There was something gentler about him today.
Perhaps because he smiled so often whenever Popeya glanced his way.
Perhaps because weddings had a habit of softening even princes.
Or perhaps…
Perhaps because Est had kissed that very mouth only a few hours ago.
The thought settled warmly – and painfully – inside his chest.
William laughed at something one of the western duchesses said.
His entire face brightened.
Gods.
Est wanted to remember that laugh forever.
As though sensing the weight of someone’s gaze, William looked up.
Across a room filled with nearly two hundred people…
His eyes found Est immediately.
Always.
Without hesitation.
Neither of them smiled.
They couldn’t.
Too many eyes surrounded them.
Instead William’s expression changed in a way no one else would ever notice.
His shoulders loosened almost imperceptibly.
The smallest breath escaped him.
Relief.
He had found him.
Est felt his own chest tighten.
How many hundreds of times had William done that over the last year?
Searching unconsciously until he found Est standing where he always stood.
Behind him.
Beside him.
Watching.
Protecting.
It had become instinct.
One neither of them had even noticed until the King’s announcement three nights ago.
Now…
Now Est noticed every single time.
William turned back to the conversation.
A servant approached with wine.
A visiting lord bowed.
Life continued.
Yet less than a minute later, while speaking politely to an elderly countess, William glanced over his shoulder again.
Not because anything was wrong.
Simply…
Checking.
His eyes landed on Est.
Only then did he continue listening to the conversation.
Est looked away.
His throat had become unexpectedly tight.
One day, he thought.
One day you’ll look for me…
…and someone else will be standing there.
The thought lodged inside him like a splinter.
He hated it.
Because it stole something beautiful.
What had once been unconscious devotion had suddenly become heartbreak.
A trumpet sounded from somewhere beyond the gallery.
The first procession was assembling.
Immediately the palace erupted into purposeful motion.
Royal guards moved into formation.
Ladies gathered their skirts.
Servants hurried away.
Military officers called quiet orders across the courtyard.
Est automatically stepped into position.
Three paces behind William.
Slightly to his left.
Close enough that, should anything happen, he could place himself between William and danger before another man had even drawn breath.
His place.
His familiar, ordinary place.
And for perhaps the first time since becoming William’s bodyguard…
Est silently wondered how many more times he would stand exactly here.
He prayed, absurdly, that he would remember every single one.
Prince Anen arrived surrounded by his siblings and court in ceremonial sapphire and silver, sunlight catching the jewels along his shoulders until he almost seemed carved from light itself.
The crowd erupted into applause the moment he stepped onto the marble dais overlooking the ocean.
But everything softened when Popeya appeared.
Gods.
Even the wind seemed to still.
She walked beneath a canopy of white silk held aloft by attendants while flower petals rained endlessly from the balconies above. Her gown shimmered gold and ivory beneath the sunlight, delicate embroidery trailing behind her like liquid sunlight spilling across the marble steps.
And beside her –
Prince Hong.
Est blinked in faint surprise at the sight before warmth spread quietly through his chest.
Hong had arrived only shortly before the wedding after diplomatic delays, but there he stood now beside Popeya in deep ceremonial black and gold, one arm offered steadily to her while she clutched his hand tightly enough to reveal her nerves despite all her royal composure.
Popeya looked close to tears already.
Hong leaned down once during the long walk toward the altar and murmured something near her ear.
Whatever it was made her laugh shakily through visible nerves.
Halfway toward the altar, Popeya’s eyes lifted instinctively toward the royal seating.
Toward William.
And gods.
The look William gave her then nearly undid Est entirely.
Small.
Soft.
Comforting.
A quiet reassuring smile meant only for his sister.
The kind that said:
You’re all right.
I’m here.
Popeya visibly relaxed the moment she saw it.
Hong noticed too.
A faint smile touched his mouth before he squeezed her hand gently and continued leading her toward Anen waiting beneath the flower-draped arch overlooking the sea.
The tenderness of it hurt to witness somehow.
Because suddenly Est could imagine it too easily –
William standing at an altar someday.
Beautiful and princely and smiling softly at someone else.
The thought lodged painfully beneath his ribs.
He pushed it away immediately.
When they finally reached the dais overlooking the sea, Hong formally placed Popeya’s hand into Anen’s.
And gods.
Something about that moment struck straight through Est’s chest.
Because Hong didn’t merely perform the ceremonial duty.
He looked emotional doing it.
Protective. Proud.
Like he genuinely loved her enough that giving her away mattered.
Popeya’s eyes filled immediately afterward.
Anen squeezed her hands gently before the vows even began.
The ceremony itself stretched beautifully across the morning.
Ancient vows spoken beneath sea wind and sunlight. Hands bound together in embroidered ceremonial cloth. Priests blessing the union while waves crashed below the cliffs like the ocean itself bore witness. At one point during the vows, Popeya began crying quietly.Anen kissed her knuckles before she could become embarrassed by it.
The crowd collectively melted. Even the Queen dabbed discreetly beneath one eye afterward while pretending otherwise.
By the time evening settled over the palace, the wedding had become something far greater than a ceremony.
The last of the sunlight melted slowly into the western sea, staining the horizon with ribbons of amber and violet before darkness crept gently across the cliffs. One by one, thousands of lanterns were lit throughout the palace grounds until every terrace, balcony and olive grove glowed with warm golden light. They hung from flowering arches and ancient trees alike, swaying softly in the salt-laden breeze that drifted in from the ocean, while far below, the waves broke endlessly against the rocks with a rhythm as old as the kingdom itself.
Music filled every corner of the palace.
Not the restrained chamber music of court receptions back home, but something joyous and wonderfully alive. Violins tangled with flutes, drums echoed across the marble courtyards, and somewhere deeper within the gardens, voices had already begun singing loudly enough that the musicians periodically dissolved into laughter. Servants carrying silver trays found themselves pulled into dances by laughing nobles. Distinguished ministers who, only hours earlier, had debated treaties with solemn dignity now clapped along to the music with flushed cheeks and loosened collars. Even soldiers who had spent the week standing rigidly at attention were smiling openly now, cups of wine in their hands as they exchanged stories with their western counterparts.
The palace had surrendered entirely to celebration.
Prince Anen had long abandoned every attempt at princely decorum.
Every few minutes someone embraced him, toasted his health, insisted upon another drink, or dragged him back onto the dance floor beside his bride. Popeya looked happier than Est had ever seen her. Whatever nervousness had shadowed her throughout the morning had vanished completely. She laughed with her whole heart now, her hand rarely leaving Anen’s, while the newly married prince looked at her with the sort of uncomplicated devotion that made the rest of the world seem to disappear whenever she smiled.
Watching them together filled Est with a quiet warmth.
After blood had stained these halls only days ago, after the terror and uncertainty that had threatened to shatter this alliance before it had even begun, it felt right that joy had won in the end.
His gaze drifted almost instinctively through the crowd.
It found William immediately.
It always did.
The prince stood near one of the open terraces overlooking the sea, surrounded – as he had been for almost the entire day – by visiting nobles and diplomats who seemed determined to claim a few moments of his attention before the celebrations ended. He listened patiently to an elderly duke recounting some story from three decades earlier, smiling with that effortless grace expected of royalty, a crystal goblet forgotten in one hand.
Gods.
Est’s chest tightened.
William had looked breathtaking that morning.
He somehow looked even more beautiful now.
Perhaps it was the lantern light, softening the sharp lines of his face and catching the silver embroidery along his dark ceremonial coat until it shimmered each time he moved. Perhaps it was the faint flush left by dancing and wine, or the sea breeze that had long since coaxed loose strands of dark hair from their careful arrangement. Or perhaps it was simply because Est had watched him sleep only hours before, his head resting peacefully against Est’s chest, breathing slow and even as dawn crept across the room.
That memory returned with almost painful clarity.
The quiet weight of William curled against him.
His sleepy smile before sunrise.
The reluctant kiss they had shared before William slipped away into the still-dark corridors, whispering goodbye, love against Est’s mouth.
It should have been enough.
One perfect night after weeks of aching separation.
Instead, it had only sharpened the hunger.
Because now, standing across a crowded courtyard, Est realised with startling force just how much of William the world demanded.
Every few moments another noble approached him.
Another ambassador bowed.
Another princess smiled.
Another conversation claimed his attention.
William accepted each interruption with practiced kindness, offering every person the warmth expected of a prince.
And Est…
Est remained exactly where he had always remained.
Close enough to protect him.
Too far away to simply take his hand.
The thought settled heavily inside his chest.
All day he had watched William belong to everyone else.
To his family.
To foreign courts.
To diplomacy.
To tradition.
To duty.
Very little of the day had belonged to William himself.
And none of it had belonged to them.
It wasn’t jealousy.
Or at least… not only jealousy.
It was something quieter.
Something deeper.
The knowledge that, after the King’s announcement, days like this had suddenly become numbered.
The thought had lingered beneath everything since the promotion.
Tonight, surrounded by music and laughter and thousands of celebrating strangers, it became almost unbearable.
Est wanted, with an intensity that surprised even himself, something absurdly simple.
He wanted William.
Not Prince William.
Not the gracious royal entertaining half the continent.
Just William.
The man who laughed into his shoulder.
Who stole kisses before dawn.
Who reached for Est’s hand beneath tables without thinking.
Who whispered that he would have married him in another life.
Gods.
He wanted one hour.
One conversation uninterrupted.
One dance.
One kiss that didn’t have to be stolen between obligations.
Across the terrace, as though sensing the weight of his gaze, William looked up.
Their eyes met across the crowd.
The polished smile William had been offering the assembled nobles softened almost immediately. It wasn’t dramatic. No one else would have noticed the difference.
Est did.
He saw the relief.
The longing.
The same quiet ache he himself had been carrying all day.
William missed him too.
Something inside Est finally gave way.
Enough.
He had shared William with an entire kingdom since dawn.
Selfishly, hopelessly, he wanted him back.
Even if only for a little while.
Straightening his coat with all the composure expected of a royal officer, Est crossed the lantern-lit gardens toward the prince, already knowing that whatever excuse he was about to invent would be utterly terrible.
He simply no longer cared.
William looked up immediately the moment Est approached.
Something changed in his face at once.
Relief. Longing. Want.
The nobles surrounding him barely had time to register what was happening before Est bowed briefly and said smoothly, “Your Highness, Prince Anen requested your presence regarding the western escort rotations.”
It was a terrible lie.
William understood immediately anyway.
“Oh?” he answered softly.
Est held his gaze.
“Immediately.”
For one dangerous second, William looked like he might actually laugh.
Instead he simply excused himself with practiced princely grace and followed Est away through the lantern-lit gardens.
The moment they disappeared beyond the lower terrace pathways and into the quieter olive groves overlooking the cliffs, William grabbed Est’s wrist.
“You are a terrible liar.”
Est turned sharply and kissed him before he could say anything else.
William made a startled sound against his mouth before immediately kissing him back with enough force to nearly drive Est backward into the nearest tree.
Gods.
Finally.
The kiss turned desperate almost instantly.
William clutched hard at the front of Est’s ceremonial jacket while Est pinned him gently against the tree trunk, kissing him breathless beneath the lantern glow filtering through olive branches overhead.
The prince tasted faintly of wine and sweetness and William himself.
Est couldn’t get enough.
When they finally broke apart for breath, William stayed close enough that Est could still feel every uneven inhale against his lips.
And gods – The way he looked at him.
Like he couldn’t quite believe Est was real either.
“You looked absolutely breathtaking today,” William whispered softly.
The sincerity in his voice nearly undid Est on the spot.
William brushed trembling fingers lightly along the silver detailing on Est’s formal jacket.
“I couldn’t stop looking at you all day.”
Emotion surged hard through Est’s chest.
A quiet disbelieving laugh escaped him. “I was literally about to say the same thing.”
William smiled then.
Small at first.
Then brighter.
Beautiful enough to ruin Est completely. He kisses him again, soft at first, then firmer.
“You looked unbearable today,” Est whispered roughly against his mouth between kisses.
William laughed breathlessly despite himself. “You kidnapped me into a garden because I looked pretty?”
“Yes.”
“Gods.”
Est kissed him again before he could continue laughing.
Slowly this time.
Sea wind moved softly through the trees around them while lantern light flickered gold across William’s face.
“You kept staring at me during the vows,” William accused quietly.
“You were impossible not to stare at.”
William’s cheeks flushed faintly deeper.
“You looked…” Est shook his head softly, still half overwhelmed by it honestly. “Gods, William.”
The prince laughed quietly beneath the praise, but emotion flickered visibly through his expression too.
“You looked at me like you wanted to kiss me the entire ceremony.”
“I did.”
That silenced William instantly.
The honesty of it settled warm between them.
Then suddenly William stepped closer.
Close enough that Est could feel the warmth of him through layers of ceremonial fabric and cool sea wind.
“I couldn’t stop looking at you either,” William admitted softly. “Especially after last night.”
Something deep in Est’s chest tightened painfully.
William’s fingers brushed lightly against the front of his jacket.
“So many people kept congratulating you today,” he murmured quietly. “And all I could think was that they have no idea how beautiful you are when we’re alone.”
Gods.
Est kissed him again. Harder for it.
Deep enough that William melted fully against him, one hand sliding instinctively into Est’s hair while sea wind curled softly around them both.
For a long while they simply stood together beneath the olive tree.
The celebration drifted toward them in fragments.
Music.
Laughter.
The distant roar of applause as another dance began somewhere beyond the gardens.
William rested comfortably against him now, his head tucked beneath Est’s chin while Est’s arms remained wrapped loosely around his waist.
Neither seemed eager to move.
Or speak.
The silence between them had never frightened either of them.
It had become another language entirely.
Est let his cheek rest briefly against William’s hair.
“I’ve been thinking about something all day.”
William tilted his head just enough to look up at him.
“What?”
Est smiled faintly, though there was sadness threaded through it.
“I’ve spent so much time standing behind you.”
William frowned slightly.
“I know.”
“I’ve watched you at every banquet.”
Every royal celebration. Every diplomatic reception. Every winter ball. Every harvest festival.
His voice grew quieter.
“I’ve watched princesses ask for your hand.”
William’s expression softened immediately.
“I’ve watched duchesses steal entire dances from you.”
A tiny smile touched Est’s mouth.
“I’ve watched elderly countesses refuse to let you leave the floor.”
William laughed softly.
“They’re terrifying.”
“They are.”
The laughter faded again.
Est looked toward the lantern-lit palace where another waltz had begun.
“I’ve watched you dance with everyone.”
His voice became almost a whisper.
“…except me.”
William went utterly still.
The words settled between them with astonishing weight.
Because they were true.
All this time beside one another, loving each other.
Of stealing kisses and quiet conversations and sleepless nights.
Yet never –
Never once –
Had they danced.
How could they?
A prince danced.
His bodyguard stood watch.
That was simply how the world worked.
Est swallowed.
“I realised today…”
His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around William’s waist.
“…that if I leave…”
He couldn’t quite finish. He tried again.
“If they send me to another command…” The words hurt. “…there may never be another chance.”
William stared at him. His eyes had already begun glistening.
Est laughed softly at himself. “Strange, isn’t it?” He looked away briefly toward the music. “I’ve faced blades without shaking.” A small breath. “But somehow asking you this feels terrifying.”
William’s throat worked visibly.
“Est…”
Est slowly stepped back.
Only enough that he could properly see him.
Then, with a gentleness that somehow felt more intimate than any kiss they had ever shared…
He offered William his hand.
Not like a prince. Not like a soldier. Simply… Like the man who loved him.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“My love…”
William’s breath caught.
“If fate insists on changing everything…”
A sad smile touched Est’s lips. “…before it does…”
He looked directly into William’s eyes.
“…would you give me the first dance I’ve spent years pretending I never wanted?”
For one suspended heartbeat William didn’t move.
His entire face crumpled. Not dramatically. Quietly.
Like something inside him had simply surrendered.
“You fool…” His voice broke around the words. “I’ve wanted that dance since I met you..”
Est actually blinked.
William laughed through tears now.
“You used to stand against the ballroom walls looking so painfully handsome.”
Another tear escaped.
“I’d spend entire evenings praying every dance would end quickly so I could come back and find you.”
His smile trembled.
“I hated every man aor woman who touched my hand.”
Gods.
Est’s own vision blurred.
William looked down at the hand still waiting patiently between them.
Then very carefully…
Almost reverently…
He placed his own inside it.
Their fingers intertwined immediately.
Like coming home.
William looked back up.
“I thought…”
His voice failed.
He tried again.
“I thought we’d never have this.”
Neither had Est.
Not really.
He drew William gently toward him.
One hand settled against the prince’s waist.
The other remained clasped around William’s hand.
The music floated softly through the olive trees.
Some distant orchestra playing for another couple entirely.
William’s breath faltered as he rested one hand against Est’s shoulder.
The other remained intertwined with his.
They stood there for another heartbeat.
Neither willing to disturb the stillness.
Then, almost instinctively, Est took the first step.
He wasn’t a particularly gifted dancer.
Years in the army had taught him discipline, not elegance.
But William smiled the moment they began to move.
“You’ve done this before.”
Est looked almost offended.
“I’ve done drills.”
William laughed softly.
“I don’t believe military formations involve quite this much staring.”
“I may have adapted.”
The laughter faded naturally into something quieter.
They moved slowly beneath the lanterns, scarcely aware of the steps they were taking. The music reached them only in fragments now, carried by the wind from somewhere inside the palace, but it was enough.
Enough to find a rhythm.
Enough to let the rest of the world disappear.
Est held William closer than etiquette would ever have permitted inside a ballroom.
Closer than any prince and bodyguard should ever stand.
Closer than perhaps anyone had ever held William while dancing.
He could feel William’s heartbeat through the layers of embroidered silk between them.
Could feel the slow rise and fall of each breath.
The prince relaxed little by little, until eventually he stopped thinking about the dance altogether and simply rested against him, letting Est guide them in an unhurried circle beneath the ancient olive branches.
It struck Est then that this was what he had truly wanted.
Not the dance itself. This. To hold William openly. To look at him without lowering his eyes. To let his hand rest at William’s waist without pretending it belonged there for duty alone.
It was astonishing how something so ordinary could feel so impossibly precious.
William smiled up at him then – a small, private smile that belonged to no prince.
Only to the man Est loved.
“I wish every dance I’d ever had had been this one.”
Est felt something tighten painfully in his chest.
“So do I.”
Neither of them noticed that the music from the palace had changed.
Or that one song had ended and another begun.
They simply continued moving together beneath the lantern-lit trees, as though they had quietly stepped outside time itself.
As though, for the length of a single dance, there was no promotion waiting for Est.
No kingdoms.
No duties.
No inevitable separation.
There was only William in his arms.
And for those few precious minutes…
That was enough.
______________
The interruption came barely minutes later.
William was still pressed against him beneath the olive trees, soft from kissing and wine and moonlight, when voices suddenly drifted through the garden pathways nearby.
Low.
Laughing.
Getting closer.
Est went still instantly.
So did William.
Another burst of laughter echoed through the trees followed by the unmistakable rustle of fabric and hurried footsteps moving directly toward their hidden corner of the grove.
William opened his mouth –
Est immediately pressed two fingers gently against his lips.
Quiet.
William’s eyes widened slightly before amusement flickered there almost immediately.
They both stilled completely against the tree, hidden partly by shadows and lantern-lit branches while the newcomers stumbled closer through the olive grove.
Then Est recognized the voice.
“Oh gods,” he mouthed silently.
William blinked once.
And then they both saw them.
Dylan.
Very enthusiastically occupied with one of Anen’s younger lords against another olive tree barely twenty feet away.
The realization hit both of them simultaneously.
William physically jerked with suppressed laughter.
Est nearly lost control of his own expression instantly.
Because somehow – somehow – Dylan was still flirting even in the middle of an international royal wedding.
“You’re insatiable,” the lord whispered breathlessly somewhere between scandalized and delighted.
Dylan laughed softly against his mouth. “You say that like it’s criticism.”
William buried his face instantly against Est’s shoulder to stop himself from laughing out loud.
Est could physically feel him shaking now.
Gods.
This was catastrophic.
Dylan, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware of the fact that the prince of an allied kingdom and his newly-promoted military commander were trapped three trees away silently witnessing this disaster unfold.
“I told you we shouldn’t disappear during the dancing,” the lord muttered weakly.
“And yet here you are.”
William made a strangled sound against Est’s shoulder that nearly killed both of them.
Est tightened one arm around him immediately, biting down hard against his own laughter while trying desperately not to make noise.
The situation only worsened when Dylan abruptly said:
“If anyone catches us, pretend I seduced you. It’ll flatter me.”
That did it.
William physically folded against Est trying not to laugh aloud.
His shoulders shook violently now while Est hid his own face briefly against William’s hair, breathless with suppressed laughter himself.
Gods.
The absurdity of it after everything else tonight –
William finally looked up at him, eyes bright with helpless amusement and lingering tears all tangled together.
And suddenly Est wanted him alone so badly it physically hurt.
Now.
Immediately.
Before the night disappeared from them again.
Without another word, Est caught William’s wrist carefully and began pulling him silently backward through the shadows away from the grove while Dylan remained deeply occupied elsewhere.
William nearly lost composure entirely halfway down the garden path.
“I cannot believe that’s Dylan – “
“Quiet.”
“He said if caught they should flatter him – “
“William.”
The prince dissolved into muffled laughter against his shoulder again anyway.
Gods.
Est couldn’t stop smiling now either.
By the time they finally escaped the olive grove and slipped back through the quieter western corridors of the palace, both of them still looked half breathless with suppressed laughter and lingering kisses.
The contrast between it and the grief from earlier felt almost dizzying.
William glanced sideways at him while they hurried through the candlelit halls.
“You realize if we’re caught now, Dylan somehow still remains the less scandalous situation.”
Est huffed softly under his breath. “Impossible.”
William smiled then.
Warm.
Beautiful.
Happy.
The sight alone nearly undid Est all over again.
Most of the palace remained distracted by the celebrations still raging below. Music drifted faintly upward through the open arches while servants hurried elsewhere carrying wine and flowers and linens entirely too busy to pay much attention to one prince disappearing quietly down the western wing.
And tonight –
Tonight no one would look too closely for William.
Not during the wedding celebrations.
Not while nobles drank themselves senseless below.
Not while Prince Anen and Popeya remained the center of the kingdom’s attention.
The realization settled warm and dangerous between them both simultaneously.
They had time.
Real time.
The thought alone changed the air instantly.
By the time Est opened the doors to his chambers, William was already looking at him differently again.
Not laughing anymore.
Wanting.
The room glowed softly beneath low firelight, balcony doors still partly open to the sea while cool night wind drifted through white curtains lazily.
William stepped inside first.
Then turned.
For one suspended heartbeat neither of them moved.
The silence stretched warm and electric between them.
And gods.
Everything had changed.
William crossed the distance first this time.
Slowly.
His hands slid up Est’s chest beneath the formal jacket still half undone from the gardens while his eyes searched Est’s face with something unbearably tender beneath the lingering desire there.
“We have all night,” he whispered softly.
The words slid straight through Est’s chest.
Emotion and longing surged together so fiercely it almost hurt.
Est cupped William’s face immediately and kissed him again.
Deep.
Certain.
Not rushed now.
Because for the first time in forever, neither of them needed to count minutes.
____________
The wedding has officially happened, which means the bubble is about to burst and the time to return to reality is right around the corner.
With real life looming, what do you think is going to happen to them next? Are they going to find a way to make this work, or is a painful separation inevitable?
Drop your predictions and thoughts in the comments, don’t forget to vote, and leave your feedback! Thank you all so much for reading.
Enjoy the chapter!
(Also, a quick heads-up: there might be a few mistakes or typos in this one! It was written over a stretch of time and hasn’t been properly proofread yet, but I really wanted to get it out to you guys.)
