Chapter 5

Est’s pulse leapt into his throat.

The day had already been a dizzying cascade of tests and oaths – and now, as though pulled by an invisible string, he followed the attendant back into the marble corridors, breath quickening.

As they moved deeper into the prince’s private wing – down corridors hung with lush drapes and polished lanterns – Est felt his pulse picking up again.

What could William want this time? Another matter of business? A further instruction?

Or…

He swallowed, remembering dark blue eyes and a sharp, knowing smile.

They led him to a small, richly appointed sitting room tucked into the prince’s private wing. Heavy brocade drapes hung at the windows, silver sconces glowed warmly along the walls, and there was William – waiting.

The prince was sitting in a small, warmly lit sitting room that smelled faintly of cedar and spiced oils – his back against a polished table, arms loosely crossed, one hip resting against the edge.
And when their eyes met, the prince’s gaze shimmered with that familiar spark of mischief.

“Est,” William greeted warmly, voice like silk as Est stepped inside and the door clicked softly shut behind him. “I hear you impressed everyone today. Even my father.” His mouth quirked, amusement lighting his expression. “Congratulations.”

Est inclined his head. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he managed – voice a touch lower than intended.

William studied him with an easy intensity that sent a ripple of heat through Est’s chest.
And then, without missing a beat – almost as if savoring the moment – the prince tilted his head.

“Did you miss me?” he asked lightly.

Est froze.

That single, teasing question was so charged – so direct – that for one dizzying heartbeat he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Your Highness…” Est began – uncertain, caught between honesty and decorum.

And whatever his expression must have betrayed – some flicker of surprise, or maybe an unguarded flush across his cheekbones – it earned a wickedly satisfied look from William.

“Don’t look so serious,” William murmured then, straightening slowly.
He prowled a step closer – gaze flicking over Est like a slow caress, warm and deliberate – before coming to a halt close enough that Est could catch a faint trace of his scent.

“You needn’t worry,” William drawled. “I’m not going to drag you into my bed.”

A deliberate pause, then a smile that could melt glass.
“Not unless you decide you want to be there.”

Est felt his face heat – an unfamiliar mix of exhilaration and nervous anticipation stirring low in his belly.

“Well…” he faltered, hands flexing nervously at his sides. “That night was… unexpected.”

“Mm,” William agreed thoughtfully – and when he reached out to flick an imaginary bit of dust from Est’s shoulder, his fingertips brushed warm and light against Est’s tunic.

“Very unexpected,” he echoed, voice dropping into something richer as his thumb idly traced the edge of Est’s collar. “And very memorable.”

Est’s breath caught at the prince’s touch – too close, too easy – and he had to fight the impulse to lean into it.

And as if he’d read that thought perfectly, William’s eyes darkened.

“You have a very distracting way of carrying yourself,” the prince murmured, gaze slipping down the lines of Est’s shoulders and chest, then up again – slow and deliberate.
“Strong. Beautiful. I thought about you more often than I ought to while I was away,” he confessed – so casually, so directly – as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Est’s mouth had gone dry.

“You were away?” he managed at last.

William inclined his chin in a single graceful nod.
“On business, since that day,” he confirmed. “Trade and politics – the usual tedium. Returned only yesterday.”
And then, because he seemed incapable of not flirting, his gaze warmed.
“Though,” he added, mouth curving slyly, “I daresay thoughts of you kept me entertained.”

The admission left Est’s heart thudding so hard he wondered if the prince could hear it.

William’s gaze lingered on Est – eyes warm, glinting with mischief and something softer beneath. He let the quiet stretch for a heartbeat longer before speaking again, voice lower now, almost confessional.

“You know,” he said, tone still edged with that easy humor, “when I invited you into my bed that night… I hadn’t thought beyond the night itself.”

Est’s breath hitched, caught off guard by the prince’s honesty.

“I certainly didn’t expect all this,” William went on, gesturing faintly toward him – toward the reality of Est standing here in royal uniform, the weight of oaths freshly sworn.
“I didn’t think you’d pass all the assessments. Not because I doubted your strength – but because, well…” His mouth curved in a rueful, self-deprecating smile. “That night wasn’t about duty. It was about… wanting.”

Est’s heart thundered in his chest, struck by the openness in William’s voice – by the way the prince seemed to be sharing something unguarded, just between them.

“But from the moment I left,” William continued, his gaze sharpening, “I kept hoping. Hoping I’d see you here again. That somehow, this might happen.”

And then – as if unable to resist – his gaze swept over Est again, slow and approving, making heat crawl up the back of Est’s neck.

“I must say… I’m very pleased with how things turned out.” His voice dipped, soft and playful.
“Means that pretty face of yours can be around me always.”

The words made Est’s breath catch again – not just from the flirtation, but from the warmth behind them.
And for a fleeting moment, it felt as if the prince’s charm had melted some invisible wall between them, leaving only heat and the hum of possibility.

William’s smile softened as if he sensed it too.

And then – as if satisfied with the way he had unsettled him – William finally took a smooth step back and gestured lightly toward the door.

“Go,” he told Est at last – voice still warm but lighter. “Spend your evening with your family. Get your affairs in order. Rest well.”
A spark of humor glimmered in his eyes as he added, “You’ll need your strength come dawn.”

And then, softer – his gaze lingering one final, deliberate moment –
“If you happen to dream of me tonight,” he murmured, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Est felt an answering smile tug at the corner of his mouth despite himself.
He bent in a careful bow – feeling every inch of that heat lingering between them – and then slipped back into the hall.

And as the door shut soundlessly behind him, he paused there a breath too long, hands flexing at his sides as he tried to will his racing heart to slow.

The walk back to the outer gates felt like a dream – his thoughts chasing themselves in heated circles.
The memory of William’s hands and eyes and voice. The weight of all that unspoken promise humming between them.

And tonight was his last night home.

____________

On his way home, Est paused at the market, feeling an unfamiliar lightness in his chest as he moved between the bustling stalls.

He bought a bolt of bright cloth for his mother – one with deep blue embroidery that would suit her – along with some sugared rice cakes that his younger sisters loved.

He chose a painted wooden top for his little brother, grinning as he imagined the boy’s face lighting up. And as he paid, Est realized that his coin purse still felt reassuringly heavy.

By the time he reached the narrow lane where their small house stood, he could hear his siblings’ voices drifting from the open window.

He pushed the door open to a chorus of surprised cries as they rushed him.

“You’re back early!”

“Is it true you’re going to work at the palace?”

“You brought us things!”

Est laughed as they crowded around him, pressing the rice cakes into their hands before setting the other parcels on the table.

His mother appeared last – hands flour-dusted, eyes warm and shining – and she pulled him into a fierce, wordless embrace that left him feeling steadier than he had all day.

That evening they celebrated together – a simple but joyful dinner spread across the low table, lit by a pair of lanterns and filled with easy laughter.

Est told them everything in careful, measured words: about the trials and his success, about being appointed as the prince’s personal guard, about the debts that had been paid.

And his mother listened, hands clasped tightly together as tears gathered in her eyes, but her smile was bright.

Even Dao and Jim, two of Est’s closest friends from the training yard, stopped by after hearing the news.

They thumped him on the back with boisterous congratulations and stayed for an hour, sharing cups of rice wine and talking excitedly about the future.

“You’ve always been the sharpest blade among us,” Dao teased, grinning.

“You deserve it,” Jim added more seriously – his dark eyes warm as they raised a cup toward him.

“You’ll do us proud at the palace.”

When they finally left and the house settled into its gentle nighttime rhythm, Est took his mother aside to a quiet corner of the room.

“Here,” he said softly, spreading a sheet of parchment across the small wooden table and setting a neat stack of coins alongside it.

“The debts that have all been paid,” he explained carefully, outlining the amounts.

“I’ll send you my salary each month – once I’ve been paid. You can manage the house with this.”

And as his mother listened – hands trembling but face proud – he felt that knot in his chest loosen further.

“Your father would have been so proud,” she murmured at last, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Est swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’ll come home every month,” he promised. “And if you ever need me sooner, you can send word. The prince – “

He paused, thinking of William’s dark, knowing gaze – the soft teasing in his voice – and wondered, fleetingly, how different things might feel tomorrow.

His mother brushed his hair back from his brow and smiled, tired but glowing.
“You go and do what you must,” she told him. “We’ll be fine. And we’ll wait for you.”

_____________

That night, he lay in his narrow bed listening to the rhythm of his family breathing around him and stared up into the dark.
And – just as the prince had predicted – thoughts of William filled his restless mind.

He remembered the prince’s hands ghosting over his shoulder, the heat in his voice as he murmured compliments, the glint in his eyes when he said, “You’ll need your strength come dawn.”

And as Est finally drifted into sleep, he wondered what awaited him at sunrise – his heart pounding with a strange, thrilling kind of certainty that whatever it was, he would meet it gladly.

_________________

The sky was just beginning to pale when Est set off again toward the palace gates.
He moved easily beneath the light chill of early morning, a small satchel slung over his shoulder and the new weight of purpose settled in his chest.

Every step toward the palace stirred a strange blend of pride and nervous anticipation – like walking toward a battlefield without knowing what trials might come.

He was shown quickly through familiar halls and into the royal wing without delay – a far cry from yesterday, when all had been uncertain.
And when Est reached the door of his assigned quarters – a modest but tidy chamber tucked into the prince’s wing – the steward handed him a folded uniform and left him to his preparations.

The uniform fit him perfectly – dark tunic, polished boots, and a gleaming badge that marked him as personal guard to Prince William.
When Est adjusted the belt at his waist and smoothed his hands over his shoulders, a quiet surge of pride ran through him.

And then – a knock at the door.

He was met promptly by the chief of the royal guard – a broad-shouldered veteran named Hanut – his face all business and his sharp eyes giving Est a single, measured once-over before nodding.

“Follow me,” the chief said simply, setting off at a steady pace.

Est fell into stride easily, his training kicking in even as his gaze strayed around the halls – drinking in the rich tapestries, gleaming marble floors, and polished fixtures that marked these inner halls as part of the royal wing.

“You’ll serve as Prince William’s personal guard,” Hanut instructed as they walked, voice low but commanding. “Your station will be outside his chambers when not on active duty at his side. The prince is often attended by other servants, but your responsibility is him – and him alone.”

Est listened closely as they moved deeper into the wing – past hushed corridors where servants paused to bow and whispered as they passed – until they paused at the top of a short flight of steps.
A moment later, another familiar figure appeared at the top of those steps, leaning casually against a column as if he had nowhere better to be.

Prince William.

Est’s pulse leapt.
That same dark hair, bright blue gaze, and effortless confidence that had captivated him before.
And just as Est remembered – that sly curve to his mouth when their eyes met.

“Your Highness,” Hanut greeted him properly, bowing his head.

William nodded in return – and then fixed his attention directly on Est, gaze roving with obvious appreciation.
“You look good,” he remarked, voice smooth. “Very good.”

That drew a slight blush up Est’s neck despite himself – and a low chuckle from the prince as if he liked seeing the reaction.

Hanut gestured for Est to follow as they resumed their walk, and William fell into stride just behind – close enough that Est could feel the prince’s presence like a heat at his back.

“This will be your first full day,” Hanut was saying, hands clasped behind his back as they passed into a broad, light-filled gallery.
“You’ll begin at my side for the morning’s drills – then accompany His Highness to his meetings with the council. After, you will stand guard at his chambers until the midday meal, and again this evening after his private audiences. The prince may have other personal instructions for you as well.”

That last part was said carefully – neutral and efficient – but Est could feel the weight of the prince’s gaze again, felt the tension coiling tighter in his belly.

When he glanced back just once, William was watching him like a wolf eyeing its favorite quarry – mouth tipped in that slow, wicked smile.

“You’ll do well,” William murmured – soft enough that Hanut probably wouldn’t have caught it – and Est felt his ears burn again.

He hurried his gaze front once more.

Finally, they paused outside the broad doors to the prince’s private wing – guarded by two other royal sentries who bowed as they approached.

Hanut gestured toward them. “When you are not at his side, this is where you will be posted. You will learn the prince’s habits quickly – what he expects at different times of day – so that you might serve without him needing to instruct you constantly. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Est replied, voice steady even as his heart thudded.

Hanut nodded once – satisfied – then turned his attention to the prince.
“Your Highness, is there anything more you’d like him to know before his shift begins?”

And for a long, lingering moment, William simply studied Est – gaze intent, hands loosely clasped at his back.
When he finally spoke, his voice was warm and edged with amusement.

“No,” William said at last – and Est felt a shiver chase up his spine at the richness in that single word. “I’ll take care of him myself.”

That earned a small smile from the chief – who nodded once and bowed, then left them standing there alone.

And as the sound of the chief’s boots faded down the marble hall, William stepped close enough that Est could see the fine details of his tunic, the flecks of light in his eyes.

“Welcome,” the prince murmured.
And this time – the way he said it, slow and soft – felt like a promise.

And without looking away – as if he wanted Est to feel the weight of his regard – William pushed the door open and disappeared into his rooms, leaving Est standing in the quiet hallway outside.

For a long moment, Est simply stood there – hands flexing and breath measured – before turning to take up his post.

And all the while, his pulse was racing with one undeniable certainty:

That this was only the beginning.

_______________

The day was a whirl of activity. Est moved a careful two paces behind the prince as they crossed between halls – into the council chambers where ministers bent their heads as William spoke; then into the training yard where nobles drilled with swords; then later to the long library, then to the gardens for an informal meeting with an emissary.

And all the while, Est was acutely aware of the prince. The graceful economy of his movements. The easy authority in his voice. The way those dark-blue eyes would cut toward him every so often as if gauging his reaction.

And more than once, Est caught William watching him in return – gaze warm and vaguely amused – especially whenever someone else spoke to Est or paused too long as they passed.

By evening, Est followed him into the grand dining hall – where the royal family had already gathered at the long, candlelit table.
He took his place against the wall as the servants began to serve course after course – and from across the polished table, he felt William’s gaze settle on him again.

The dinner itself was long – and Est’s back ached by the end – but the prince never failed to glance up, one corner of his mouth lifting as if sharing some private joke just between them.

And when it was finally over, William rose, dismissing the servants with a few smooth words before approaching Est directly.

“You’ve done well,” the prince told him, voice warm and quiet enough that only Est could hear.

Then, tilting his head slightly – as if issuing a dare – William added, “You may go and freshen up. Rest if you wish. Or…” – his gaze darkened infinitesimally – “you may join me in my chambers instead. I would like that very much.”
He paused.
“The choice is yours of course… But if you choose to come, you dine with me.”

The offer settled heavily into Est’s chest as he bowed, murmuring an obedient, “Your Highness,” though his heart was thudding.

And as he bathed in his small quarters afterward – sluicing the warm water over tired muscles – Est thought back over the day: William’s subtle looks; the intensity of his gaze; that sly invitation whispered at dinner’s end.

He hesitated at the threshold of his door, hands knotting briefly in his uniform tunic.

And then – he decided.

When he finally appeared at William’s door, freshly dressed and scrubbed clean, one of the prince’s stewards bowed him in and withdrew – leaving Est alone in the warm glow of the prince’s private rooms.

And there was William himself – reclining comfortably by the window, dressed more informally now, dark hair loosened just enough to give him a softer look.

He straightened immediately when he saw Est.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” the prince greeted him – voice rich with approval. “Come,” he added, gesturing toward the small table set by the balcony.

Est followed, gaze sweeping over the carefully prepared meal – rich roasted meat and fruit, fine bread and wine.
“Eat,” William urged him with a light smile. “This is undoubtedly better than whatever they’d have served you downstairs.”

And so Est sat – and William took the chair opposite, swirling his own glass of wine but hardly touching it, eyes never leaving Est as he ate.

That gaze was palpable – like hands brushing over his skin.

“You did well today,” William told him after a moment – voice quiet, almost purring. “Not that I had any doubts. I can see how careful you are. How strong.”
He paused, lips quirking. “And easy on the eyes as well. That much hasn’t changed.”

Est felt his face heat at that, gaze flicking up to meet the prince’s.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” he murmured, unsure what else to say – though his belly was warm with more than food and wine.

After dinner, when Est had wiped his hands and the servants had cleared the plates, William rose and gestured for him to follow.

“There’s a concert tonight in the grand hall,” the prince explained easily as they moved into the corridors again – this time side by side. “Mostly other courtiers and my family – my parents insisted I make an appearance.”

And so they went – up into one of the balconies reserved for the royal family.
Est kept a respectful distance at first – hands folded before him – but William soon patted the seat right beside him.

“Sit,” he ordered, voice threaded with amusement.

And Est did – heart thudding anew as he settled next to the prince.

The hall below was rich with music – string and flute intertwining in graceful melody – but Est found himself far more aware of the prince himself.

He could feel William’s gaze – warm and almost possessive – as if tracing the lines of Est’s profile, the cut of his shoulders, the way the light played on his hair.

And more than once, their hands brushed against one another on the armrest – fleeting and electric.

When the concert finally drew to a close and they returned to the quiet sanctuary of William’s chambers.

The warm light of dozens of candles painted gold across the room, spilling in shimmering patterns over polished furniture – and over William himself, who stood with an effortless grace that made Est’s breath catch.

Est hovered just inside the threshold, hands clasped behind him, still feeling the hum of the evening vibrating in his chest.

And then the prince was moving – slow, measured steps toward him – every inch of him radiating intent.

The prince moved slowly, each measured stride closing the distance between them. Est felt his mouth dry, his hands reflexively clasping behind his back as if awaiting orders.

“You held yourself well today,” William began, voice rich and deceptively gentle.
“Every gaze, every whisper – you ignored them all. But me.”

He was close enough now that Est could feel his warmth, see the dark gleam in his eyes.

“You felt my gaze,” William said with quiet certainty, and Est’s heart thudded so loud it nearly rang in his ears.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Est managed, voice a touch rougher than intended.

And then the prince reached out – fingers calloused yet careful as they brushed the sharp line of Est’s jaw. The touch burned through him like a brand.

“You intrigue me,” William murmured. “More than any other.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked curve, and his gaze darkened like a predator cornering its prey.

“You make me want things,” he continued – thumb ghosting along Est’s bottom lip – “things I rarely admit aloud.”

Est held his breath, pulse racing as the prince took another slow step, erasing what little space was left between them.

“You proved yourself as my bodyguard,” William went on in that dark, silky voice that wrapped around Est like silk ropes. “But I seem to want you for far more than that.”

He tilted Est’s chin up further, gaze dragging along his face with unapologetic hunger.

“I want you,” the prince told him then – voice darker now, utterly certain. “Not only as my bodyguard.”

He paused, gaze drinking him in with a hunger so intense it nearly left Est dizzy.

“But as my paramour. My secret consort.”

The words hit like a body-blow – heat and tension coiling hot and unfamiliar in Est’s belly.

Est blinked – heart pounding.
“Your… paramour?”

And William smiled – a slow, deliberate curve of his lips – stepping even closer until their breaths mingled.

“Yes,” the prince purred.

And then, as if sensing that spark in him, William pressed closer – close enough that their chests brushed, close enough that Est could feel the prince’s breath fan his cheek.

“You’ll want for nothing. Every comfort, every luxury – yours.” William promised, voice threaded with a silken edge.
“Your debts. Gone. Your family. Cared for. Forever. Every coin you’d ever hoped to touch – yours.”

And then, darker, richer:

“In return,” he murmured, lips just shy of Est’s ear, “I’ll take what I want.”

And then, softer – dangerous and decadent –

“All I require is you, Est.

Your hands.

Your mouth.

Your body pressed against mine.

Your voice saying my name in my bed.”

He brushed his knuckles down the column of Est’s throat as he spoke, eyes like dark fire.

“I want all of you,” William whispered. “Your soul. Your trust. Your obedience. Every breath, every shudder – mine to take. Mine to savor.”

Est could do nothing but stare up at him, lips parted, breath catching in his throat as the prince’s fingers trailed lower, skimming over his collarbone, his chest.

“You’ll serve me,” William murmured, gaze locked on him like a vow.
“You’ll take me as I demand. And you’ll let me have you whenever – however – I wish.”

The last of William’s words felt like a dark promise in the hush of the room – tingling across Est’s skin like the ghost of a kiss.

“And when you do,” the prince whispered, voice dripping with command and heat,
“you will leave my bed wrecked – trembling and full of me – knowing you’re mine.”

He tilted Est’s chin higher still until their lips hovered a breath apart – the prince’s dark gaze boring into him like a brand.

“Every inch of you,” William growled, “from this night on.”

Est’s hands flexed uselessly at his sides, heat surging through him like a tide as his knees threatened to give.

And then William finally eased back – slowly, savoring every flicker of reaction across Est’s face – eyes sharp with dark delight.

“You needn’t answer tonight,” he added in a voice that was all silken cruelty and delicious promise, “You’ll have time to decide – five days to think it through.”

William’s eyes never left his face as he continued – voice hushed yet fiercely sincere:
“You will belong to me. Every inch of you – body and soul – for as long as you stay. But don’t worry, I will not chain you forever against your will.”

And then, with a strange softness, William held his gaze and told him,
“You would sign a contract. Every year after that, on the day you sign – you would have one chance to walk away if you wish. I will not stop you if you choose to leave.”

He reached up again, fingertips warm as they brushed Est’s cheekbone.

And then, darker and deeper as his mouth curved into a sharp, knowing smile –
“Though I doubt you’ll ever want to leave.”

The weight of it – the intensity, the desire – wrapped around Est like a cloak.

And as William’s hands finally slid away, Est was left trembling in the hush of the prince’s rooms, heart thundering and every nerve alight.

____________

The offer has been made – Will Est accept it?! 

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