Chapter Twelve

They were silent as they returned. The slave let them in, and they took turns changing in the privy room. Remus wasn't quite ready for sleep, and he was sitting in front of the fire when the Prince came out.

Sébastien even wore black when he slept, and he kept the buttons on the cuffs done. Not an inch of skin showed beside his hands, neck, and face. Remus figured the Prince would get in bed, wait for Remus to go to sleep, and finally get there himself.

Instead, the Prince came to sit a couple of feet away from Remus in front of the fire with a tiny, silver case.

"What are some things I should know about Midland?" Sébastien had taken his hair out of its earlier bun, and strands fell forward as he looked down and opened the case. Cigs lay inside.

"I've never seen you smoke."

"They're all right once in a while." Sébastien took one and wordlessly held it toward him without looking. "I'd rather it not be a habit."

Remus accepted it and watched Sébastien place one between his smooth lips. A little fire appeared at the tip of his finger so he could light the other end. Remus quickly looked away and considered his lightning. Technically, he could manage it since the lightning was a source of heat, but it'd be rather tedious, and a little tendril might snake up the side and ruin it.

"Do you mind?" asked Remus.

Sébastien held out a lit finger, and Remus leaned in to light the end. The fruity smoke wafted around them, and Remus tasted the faint sweetness. Years ago, he'd tried a cig with a friend who had died early on in the war, and he hadn't particularly enjoyed it. It had been rough and a bit more like sour fruit.

His current was a lot smoother, and while he could never see himself as a smoker, he could see why some liked it. It was something to do with his hands too.

"Well?" asked Sébastien.

"Don't call them Middies for one," said Remus. "I can call them that. Thanks to the war, you can't since you're a Soleilian. They've always rather considered themselves to be Midland people even though Rowland was over them. They're not quite the same, so don't lump them in with Rowlands either. They definitely don't consider themselves Soleilians, so don't let that word leave your mouth in relation to them. Midlanders or Midland people is fine."

"All right."

"I think you can figure out that calling them savages or barbarians isn't a good idea," Remus added.

"I'm not stupid."

"Even if one royally pisses you off, don't do it. Remember, before the war, we weren't savages to you, so none of the insults."

"The Regent wants me to go over and get them under control since they don't accept lords unless the Biatano one counts." Sébastien took a drag from his cig. "He's sickly, does little to them, and the peace has been kept."

"I know. Two died in Midland, no bodies were found, and everyone refused positions over there ever since from what I heard."

"Do you know what happened to the missing ones?" asked Sébastien.

Remus shook his head. "No. Whatever that was, it had nothing to do with Rowland, and nobody told us anything. We figured the Middies didn't like them, and…they vanished. I'm sure they're in a grave somewhere. Or maybe they became fish food. Who knows? They must have said or done something serious, but I can't say for sure. The two lords didn't bring many guards, and if the opportunity was just too good to pass up…Midlanders typically won't tattle on each other. We're not even sure where exactly they disappeared."

"We don't either. Uncle was furious because he had no one to punish. Soldiers keep order in some spots now."

"I know. They don't like that. If they openly rebelled against them, they know the Regent would send over more and level their homes. They might make an exception for you. You're the next King, and they imagine that things will never get better for them since the Regent treats them like they're inferior and need babysitting by soldiers."

"Lovely," said Sébastien. "I'm going to get rid of the soldiers."

Remus flicked ash toward the fire. It landed on the hearth stones instead. "The Regent won't like that."

"He can't control me so easily now," said Sébastien. "Lord Rochefort will likely not fully approve of that decision, but not so much out of malice."

"You don't trust Lord Rochefort either, right?"

"I don't trust any of them. I thought that was clear."

Remus blew the smoke away from the Prince and turned a little toward him on the floor. "Okay, I get that you don't trust them. If you had no choice but to go alone to Midland with only one of them, I'm sure you'd pick Lord Rochefort, correct?"

"Yes, because he's not friends with the Regent, and he's never done anything suspicious. When I went to his home with my brothers once, we enjoyed ourselves. That was years ago. I can't say I truly know him now. People can change."

"He told the story of the outlaws, and how you made your first kill. He seemed rather proud of you."

"He was because I was five years younger and skilled," said Sébastien. "Taking us out to look for those outlaws wasn't smart, but then again, not all eighteen-year-olds are smart. Enzo is also the one who particularly wanted to go and convinced him. Still, in this situation, I can't fully trust Lord Rochefort either. Loyalties can change."

"True."

"Lord Dubois is likely going to be furious if I dismiss the soldiers around Midland. He's the sort who thinks that a firm hand is needed until all disobedience is gone while failing to see how much resentment can build. Lord Rochefort will be more unsure and leery due to initial safety. I think the people will be happier without soldiers constantly lurking. It leads to fights, and the people hate Soleil even more."

"Do you think you could get the soldiers to join our group and follow you?"

Sébastien flicked his cig. "They'd follow because I'm the Prince. Lip service. There wouldn't be much real loyalty. They went there because the Regent said so, and he's the one in control of everything. Even though I'm now the Crown Prince and the Duke, I know they won't truly respect me. They'll have grown to like their easy post, and following me might mean real work."

"Elira forbid."

"I plan on cutting taxes and rents. Uncle won't like that either. It's something that can help the economy in the long run, and I'm allowed to set them as I please since it involves my income, and then I'd pay a tax to him directly. He set them just a bit too high, so the people aren't starving and living in shacks, but they can't quite save for a rainy day either."

Remus nodded. "They'll like that. You need a bit more than cutting taxes and rents. You'll need to let them come forward with their grievances if they wish. Always try to take their side if possible because favoring your people will make you lose respect."

"Okay." The Prince tossed his spent cig into the fire.

"Another thing," added Remus. "You're Soleilian. They don't consider themselves that. Respect the basic things of their culture. Don't insult anything that isn't normal for you. Don't complain about the food. If you don't like something spicy, and you truly can't bear it or some kind of taste, and there's something else you could have, simply say so without being a brat about it. If they insult a part of Soleilian culture, don't lash out. Your goal is to make it right now, and if that means faking it, do it."

Sébastien's eyes cut toward him. "I like spicy food. We don't have it much at court because the majority aren't keen on it."

"Okay. Still…tone down the attitude. Don't act like a spoiled, whiny ass brat, or else…" Remus paused and rolled his eyes. The Middies would hate the second-most powerful person in Soleil telling them what to do with a spoiled attitude.

"Or else what?" Sébastien asked in a challenging tone. "Are you going to spank me?"

The image that created made it tempting. It was worse when Remus imagined Sébastien squirming in his lap and growing hard. And Remus slipping his cock between the cheeks he had just reddened and pounding away until the Prince came. Dear Elira, no. Don't think that. His cock threatened to thicken.

"No," he said too late.

"You already threatened that before and told me I had an attitude."

"You kinda deserved it."

Sébastien gazed at him directly. "Don't call me a brat again."

He picked up his cig case again. Why was he bringing that up unless he secretly wanted a spanking and didn't know how to ask? Remus didn't know what he was into or if he had anything he was truly into. What a power shift that would be to have the Prince over his knee.

If he'd never been with someone of his own free will, he likely had kinks that he was interested in but wasn't willing to truly explore. Or he simply liked poking at Remus to get on his nerves.

"What about slaves in Midland if there are any?" Remus asked. "Releasing them would be a good idea. I'm pretty sure that only a Soleilian soldier would have one. Not the common citizens."

Sébastien lit a cig himself and passed it over. Remus tried not to think about the fact that the Prince's lips had been on it. Why hadn't he jerked off earlier in the bath instead of focusing on everything else pressing on them? He could have taken some time to relieve himself in privacy, and maybe he wouldn't be thinking about Sébastien's lips being wrapped around the head of his cock. And how much he could take down.

The Prince lit one for himself and stared at the fire. "I don't think there are any. Any Midlander guilty of a crime is sent to Soleil. If a Soleilian soldier tried to buy a criminal and bring him over, and slavery started spreading there, I imagine that would tip the civilians over."

"But if there are any?"

"The slavery thing is a bit more complicated. I think you know that."

"The Regent's not there. If you can tell soldiers to pack up and fuck off…"

"I'm aware, but do you think he'll have no contacts writing to him and saying what I've done? Or what they think I might do?"

"I get that-"

"I can do some things like sending away the soldiers, or lowering rents and taxes as Duke, but releasing slaves is another matter. That was Father's law, and Uncle kept it. A slave is considered property at that point, and it doesn't matter what crime they committed. I can take property away and revert it to the crown if someone is found guilty of a serious crime, but buying a slave isn't a crime. It's like buying a coat or any item."

Remus forced himself to take a drag of the cig instead of saying something nasty. Like how Jean was a bastard for letting fairies be bought like a piece of clothing.

"I thought this was clear because I couldn't release the five Rowland slaves at the Palace. That's why the Regent had to do it. If I release any slaves, it's like walking into someone's house and robbing them of their valuables. Uncle would surely claim that I've only grown more spoiled and declare my action a crime."

"But you can stab a man and get a slap on the wrist." The piercing gaze nailed Remus's face again.

"I was at home. I think you can see that he was playing the role of the Uncle who loves me and gives me chance after chance. It makes me look worse. Even when he talks to others about me, it's to guide their view of me and not in the best direction. Also, he didn't have any true sympathy for you. He has to play a role for now to act like he cares about peace."

"I get that." Remus flicked his ash onto the hearth. "He gets to keep up the image of the poor Uncle who doesn't know what went wrong while you were growing up."

"He'll look for anything to pin on me as treason if I somehow survive every attempt on my life."

"And the Soleilian army will one day come, and if a last chance to make you have an accident doesn't work, he'll find an excuse to dangle you from a noose."

"I'd rather not hand him the rope if I can," said Sébastien.

"He'll make it himself if he has to and toss your body in a grave somewhere over there."

"Yes, but let's hold that off. Actually, if I don't have an accident in Midland, I think he plans to have me brought back to Soleil after being arrested for treason. He'd rather make sure the entire Kingdom knows what crime I've supposedly committed to warrant death, and he'd want a trial. Properly following the typical protocol would make him look better. If I'm hastily executed and buried somewhere, it'll look like he couldn't wait to get the crown. I'd need to look bad, and he can pretend to be grieved that he has no choice but to have me hanged and laid in the tomb with the rest of the family."

"Ah." Remus took a deep breath. "Say you make it in the end and get the throne, then what? You'll leave Rowland alone?"

"Yes. I'm not eager to start another war."

"Even though you hate werewolves, my people are savages, and you opposed the treaty?" He was tempted to ask if Sébastien's big plan was to get werewolves to fight for him. Not yet.

Sébastien shrugged. "What's another war going to do?" He paused. "I'm tired."

At first, Remus thought he meant tired as in ready for bed until he realized Sébastien was tired of everything else: thinking ahead, plotting, not being able to trust anyone, evading Uncle's plans, bottling up the past. Having the throne and being able to fucking sit and simply be for five minutes without someone planning his demise would be a relief.

Those two simple words held volumes, and Remus never thought he'd hear them from Sébastien's mouth.

"So you will let me go later without pulling any bullshit tricks?"

Sébastien took a drag from the cig and let the smoke drift from his mouth as he spoke. "As long as you don't fuck me over."

A simple yes would have been better. As much as Remus wanted to take his words at face value, he wasn't sure if that was a good idea. He'd thought he could trust his twin and look at where that landed him. In fact, he was sure the collar and cuffs being gone made him more suspicious now.

Sébastien had said he hated Remus for being Giorgio's son. No matter what they did, he couldn't erase who his Father was, Margot and Enzo's death, or the events at Calmerra. They'd always be there, and if that place was even mentioned, Sébastien would remember his Father, dead and violated by the Father of Remus while under the influence of a mystery drug.

It didn't help that Sébastien was also surely still a little scared of him because if it came down to a real fight, he had no guarantee of winning. Remus had proved that back at the farm since he'd managed to get Sébastien down to the floor and held him there while getting the cuffs off. His fear had been evident. In a fight where Sébastien didn't quickly get the upper hand fast enough, Remus would likely win for the most part even if he suffered injuries.

The cigs meant little. He didn't trust anyone, least of all the son of Giorgio, and the man who'd led the Rowlands on the day Remere died.

"What about the slaves in Soleil if you get the crown?" asked Remus. Bringing up his prior thoughts might not be a good idea. Showing that distrust still lurked would surely make Sébastien's ever-suspicious mind grow more leery of him too. They'd end up feeding each other's doubts.

"Plenty of people are okay with slavery because they've gotten used to it, and it's criminals. Being allowed to own someone can bring out the worst in some. Others don't want to own anyone and find the entire concept repulsive. In general, if it came to a vote, I'm positive Soleil would say no to slavery. Either way, I'm going to abolish it. It's not right, although at court, my opinion is far outnumbered."

"If you're pissing on my leg-"

"No, I'm not. I never wanted a slave before, and I didn't choose for you to end up there. That doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

Of course, he had to keep his guard dog on a leash just in case. Maybe his reminders that Remus wasn't "free" were more of an attempt to calm his own insecurities by guilting Remus into staying. Sébastien needed him, and without someone who seemed willing to stick around for a bit, he'd have a harder time. Perhaps he'd keep his word, and they'd part in peace later.

Why couldn't Sébastien be an easy man to read?

"Rape is a crime, but that fails to exist when the victim in question is no longer a person, but a piece of property," Sébastien continued after a moment. "Except when the slave is released, they can't get any revenge for what happened before, and they're left with the aftermath to deal with. Not all are raped, but some are, and the court was particularly fond of using them as sex slaves to dress up and use. So many of the courtiers aren't lords, but related to one, and with their high status, money, and lack of responsibility, they seek dirty pleasures."

Someone had sought an absolutely disgusting pleasure in him.

"I don't think anyone should be permanently dirtied for life," added Sébastien.

Remus let the smoke come through his nose before he tossed the remnants of the cig into the fire. Was that how the Prince felt? Permanently dirtied? He didn't think someone who hadn't been abused would ever say that unless they were the sort who blamed the victim.

"You thought I didn't give a flying nalcin's ass if people were raped in the day room," Sébastien suddenly said with an edge.

"You sat there-" blurted Remus.

"Because I had to, and it's normal to them. What did you expect me to do? If I said to stop, Uncle would have overridden me. If I'd shown my real feelings at all, Uncle would have used that against me in any way he could. Retreating to my rooms to avoid seeing it and never coming out would have caused a new set of troubles. I'd probably be dead already. I acted, and it worked. Think before you open your fucking mouth. I'm not all-powerful."

Remus stared at the fire because the Prince was entirely right, and he hadn't thought before opening his trap. In fact, pretending nothing was happening was probably a coping mechanism.

Elira, he was a fucking idiot and needed to think before he spoke.

"You can tell me more some other time if I have questions." The Prince's tone said he was about five seconds away from saying far nastier things.

"What about tomorrow? We can't get on the ship with two of those brothers in disguise. I mean, we could, but I'll eventually have to sleep, so I can't stay up to watch over you the entire time. I couldn't even pick them out by their faces if you lined up every sailor. The one I killed wore a helmet like any Knight. I only knew who he was because of the crest on his armor."

"We're not taking that ship. I'll hire a new one because they won't be able to come aboard. Not without drawing suspicion."

Sébastien was staring at the fire when Remus finally looked at him, and something in his expression said he was trying to get things together in his head. Whether he was trying to force his anger down or keep memories from boiling to the surface, Remus wasn't sure.

How many nights had he spent packing everything down so he could get up every damn morning and keep going? With every blow from a family death, abuse, and the Regent seeking his end, he still got up and plodded forth.

Here was a man who'd yanked himself up by his bootstraps since he was a teenager. Sébastien shouldn't have had to do that. No one should, and Remus couldn't pretend to not respect someone with such a core.

He couldn't say any of that. Not without letting the Prince know that he was almost entirely sure of past things because he didn't know what reaction it would bring. Shame would be one, and he knew the Prince wouldn't react well to that feeling with Remus.

"I'm going to sleep." He shifted, hesitated, and gave the Prince a single pat on the back. Sébastien didn't stiffen, but he didn't move or give any indication that he accepted it, hated it, despised Remus's very guts for the action, or anything.

It was only once Remus was in bed that the Prince moved.

***

Remus awoke the next morning to find Sébastien already dressed and ready.

"Lord Rochefort's going to the city bank for me. Get up."

He'd opened the balcony doors for air, and the sliver of the outside world Remus could see wasn't very bright. He wanted to roll over instead of getting up at the buttcrack of dawn since they hadn't gone to bed until late. He forced himself to sit up since life wasn't going to wait for him.

"You need more money?" Remus blinked at his lap, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain.

"I need a lot more." Sébastien moved to look outside. "No one's going to let me use their ship for a pittance on such short notice. He would have had to go anyway to fetch the men's wages. There won't be another bank until Biatano, and I have a feeling they don't have enough there."

"They probably don't." Remus realized his shirt was tossed across the foot of his bed. He vaguely remembered waking up, feeling too warm, and taking it off.

Sébastien avoided looking at him as he headed for the table in the corner where a tray waited. "You've got time to wash up, dress, and eat something. Don't be slow about it, and do the inventory afterward."

"Okay." Remus snatched his shirt and suddenly thought about something. "Where are you supposed to live? I mean, once you're in Midland. Where's your home supposed to be?"

"Biatano. I thought that was obvious."

"There's only one Castle in Biatano, and I don't see you sharing it with the lord."

Sébastien added a tiny scoop of sugar to his tea. "I'm supposed to live in an old manor house just outside of the city. The Regent says it only needs a little fixing, and laborers from the city will be working on that." He snorted. "The roof will probably cave in the first night. Uncle said it'll do since I'll be taking the throne when I'm twenty-five, and there's no point in building myself a new home."

"Ah."

Sébastien picked up a bun from the tray. "Hurry the fuck up."

The group was ready to go in good time. The wages were paid out up to that day, and a locked box with the remaining money was tucked in Sébastien's trunk. He'd also taken a hefty amount to carry on his person. It was more than Remus would want to carry.

He hated being on the docks. They stuck out like a sore thumb, and all he could picture was two men sneaking onto another boat and disguising themselves as sailors or whatever although that was unlikely. He'd hastily rubbed one out in the privy, but masturbating can't erase every form of stress.

Sébastien eyed the ship they were to take. Lettering on the side proclaimed it as Soleil's Glory. Its purple flags with the lynx crest fluttered in the breeze, and sailors were already prepping to get underway. They likely imagined the Prince would lead his group right over, and they'd all board without complaint.

Sébastien turned Whisper and let his eyes scan the docks. "Remus, do you remember what we talked about last night?"

"Yeah," he answered easily, figuring he should simply play along with whatever the Prince said.

"I think you're right. Lord Dubois, wait here and watch the men. Lord Rochefort, you can come with me. You too, Remus."

"What are you talking about?" asked Lord Dubois. The slave being right about something irritated him. Or he may have awoken on the wrong side of the bed that morning as usual. "Where are you going?"

"Wait like I said," said Sébastien.

He ignored the deepening scowl. Remus followed the pair down the docks. In the distance, the Southern Edge Inn was perfectly fine, and he imagined the two Knights, pissed that Sébastien had thwarted that plan.

Other ships were moored. Some looked ready to leave, and a few were likely passenger ships for people going one way or the other along the Soleilian coast. One had arrived and already released its passengers. Remus caught two with a Morian accent, and another with a Returian one. All three were arguing about whether they were supposed to wait at the docks for someone or hoof it across the city since they'd arrived earlier than expected.

"What exactly are we doing, Your Highness?" asked Lord Rochefort.

"I think I'd prefer to take a different ship, but not just a passenger one."

"Why? What's wrong with that one?" Lord Rochefort jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Remus and I were talking about something, and he made a suggestion."

Lord Rochefort glanced at Remus whose high shirt collar hid the lack of a collar.

Sébastien nudged Whisper into a trot toward a brightly painted ship being loaded with crates. Sébastien paused near the gangplank and called for the Captain. A sailor went to fetch him.

The man came down, and his eyes grew big at the sight of the Prince. Sébastien said he wanted to hire the ship.

"I'm going to Rowland, Your Majesty." The Captain's accent was Soleilian with a hint of more like he'd been all over and slightly picking up others for years. "These goods all have a place to be. I don't know why you'd want to take my ship anyway."

"How much worth are you carrying? Give me a rough number."

The Captain squinted and scratched at his cheek. His orange skin was rather leathery, probably from years in the sun. When he gave a number, Sébastien glanced at the ship again.

"I'll pay you double if you take my men and the goods to Rowing Rest in Midland. They'll be given to the people at my discretion."

The man's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "What? But-but what about all of the people waiting on things they ordered? I have silk for a tailor, gold for a jeweler, cacao, bales of cloth, Returian matos-they'll never order from me again if they think I'm liable to skip off! Word will get around. Your Majesty, I'll be ruined!"

"When do you get paid?"

"After delivery. They already paid those responsible for procuring or creating the items. I deliver them, and I get paid afterward. It's not right to steal what they've paid for."

"We won't be stealing. Do you have doves?"

"Er, yes, Your Majesty."

"Do you keep a record of everything?"

"Everything to the last spool of thread is recorded so that no one can lift anything, and no one can say I didn't deliver all that was ordered."

"You'll show me these records, and I'll personally pay everyone from the treasury so they're not losing money. You'll write out these notices for me to sign before dinner. I'll also pay you triple what you expect to make. They'll understand a Prince required your ship, and things were out of your hands."

Remus thought the Captain would fall over and have a stroke at the idea of being paid triple.

Lord Rochefort leaned over. "Um, Your Majesty? This is…"

"If we bring gifts to Rowing Rest, I think the citizens will enjoy that, and it shows we thought of them beyond getting them under control."

Lord Rochefort nodded. "All right, but we can get things and hire a ship so this man can simply be on his way. What's the Regent going to say if a bunch of money is transferred to Rowland people to cover what they paid?"

"If he complains, I'm paying to calm down the citizens in Midland. It doesn't matter who made or ordered the items. I think he can understand gifts to make people happy."

"We could still buy things here and pick another ship. I don't see the need for this."

"That'll take much longer, and the last thing I feel like doing is shopping," Sébastien replied with the air of a Prince who wants something and refuses to wait. "We spent quite a few days training, and I'm ready to get started on this leg of the journey." He peered down at the Captain. "Well? Are you agreeable with that?"

The Captain eagerly nodded, and Remus could practically picture him rolling in the extra money he'd make.