Chapter Nineteen

They camped outside since no one had a large home to take others in. The winery owner shared bottles of her best sweet wine as a gift.

They'd mostly been using waterskins, and while the men were permitted small amounts of alcohol at night on occasion, the cups weren't something a Prince would typically drink wine from. They would have to do, and Remus brought a couple to the tent that night along with a bottle of the good stuff they'd just received. He hadn't seen Lord Dubois since dinner, and that was for the best since he'd probably whisper to his men and say the "slave" was going to get the Prince drunk and kill him afterward.

Sébastien was writing at his table since he was supposed to keep a basic record of what he was doing to send to the Regent. Like he cared if things were going well. Remus set the items on the table and took the other chair.

"I know the cups aren't fancy, and you'd prefer to drink from glass or crystal. That's all we have. Do you want me to pour you some?"

Sébastien's eyes flicked to the handwritten label on the bottle. Sweet Maiden's Blush. The liquid inside was pink.

"No." The word came out quite sharp.

"Erm, I know you prefer red, but this is what she gave us."

"I don't drink pink wine or anything too sweet."

Remus had never been too particular about what sort he drank unless it was paired with food. "Sorry. I thought you might want to try it. Do you want me to see if she'll trade it for a bottle of red?"

Sébastien shook his head as focused on the parchment again and continued writing. His shoulders had noticeably tensed. Remus could see it if he was simply snobby about what wine graced his lips. The attitude was a bit odd, so something else was wrong.

"Er, do you mind if I drink it?"

"I don't care what you drink unless you get drunk. Then I'll kick your ass out of the tent."

"I'll get you a bottle of red if you want it. It's no trouble to go over and ask her."

"I don't want to drink wine with you."

They'd drank at Rowing Rest during dinner, although that wasn't exactly the same. Doing it in the tent with no one else could be considered more intimate. Remus suddenly felt like an ass for doing that even though he'd only meant for them to do it in the way two men might drink together without any intimate intentions.

"Sorry," Remus mumbled.

Sébastien drew a line under the words he'd written. The next section would go underneath when he got around to writing it. "Lord Rochefort thinks we should head straight to Biatano."

"Why? We're supposed to head east a bit and go south-"

"I know, but he thinks we can skip going to every place on the way. He says I should get settled in Biatano, make sure that the city is doing well, and then decide what to do. Since Rowing Rest decided to send out a messenger to tell other places what sort of person I am, and our first stop was such a huge success, he says we've pretty much already overcome a major obstacle. I could also write to dismiss soldiers, and then go around and check on the people."

"And? I don't see why you need to go right for Biatano. We could stop at locations on the way as planned."

Sébastien inclined his head. "True, but I can stop at Biatano first, make sure my new, shitty home is being repaired, and go from there. All of the men aren't going to stay here with me forever until I'm twenty-five. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, that'll never happen if the Regent has his way."

Remus grunted his displeasure at that.

"Anyway, the ones who are supposed to stay with me are my men, and they're not married. Tom is one, and there are about ten others. If Midland isn't ready to see me in a grave, we could make the trip in a different way to Biatano, settle things there, get rid of soldiers, clear up any little problems elsewhere, and make our way back to Rowing Rest with little issue. At that point, Lord Dubois and Lord Rochefort would take a ship back to Soleil. Their men will also want to go home, and quite a few have spouses and children. Afterward, my smaller guard would accompany me back and stay with me in case of minor troubles. I'd rule as needed from Biatano, and they'd return with me when it's time for me to take the crown."

Even if Midland technically became safe for him, pickpockets and those with nefarious intentions would always exist, so he'd need some guards. Calmerra was supposedly home to a bunch of criminals since the majority of the good, decent folk had left after the disaster.

"I don't trust anyone who suggests changing things."

"Me neither." Sébastien stood. "But I'm going to do it."

"Why?"

"I'd say we're in a form of limbo. Midlanders likely won't slaughter me, and Lord Dubois surely has something planned. I honestly don't know about Lord Rocherfort. He seems loyal so far."

"But people are loyal until they aren't, and some are good at acting."

"Exactly." Sébastien opened his trunk to dig through it. "In the meantime, we don't know exactly what to expect or what all the Regent has planned. I'd rather hasten things, and I think Lord Dubois is waiting for me to get settled and comfortable in my new home."

"Or Lord Rochefort has a set of plans too, and they involve getting you off the original course. Or he's secretly with Lord Dubois, and while they may not get along or be good buddies, they're both willing to follow the Regent's orders for a greater goal."

"Perhaps." Sébastien approached the table with a leather case, and he plucked at the ties keeping it closed. "I'd rather we get to Biatano, make a plan to slip away in secret as soon as possible, and get started on our other goals. I care about the people here, but if I die-" He set the open case down and leaned down a little toward Remus. "The Regent will rule as he sees fit, and all of my plans won't mean anything. Besides that, I think the best thing to do when I get the throne is to give Midland back to Rowland, and you can take care of them. They'll be happier under you."

"Are you serious?"

Sébastien rolled his eyes. "No, I said that for shits and giggles."

"I thought you'd want to keep it."

"Was I miserable before without Midland a part of the Kingdom?"

"I imagine not, but people usually enjoy keeping what they get."

"I don't need it. Soleil doesn't need it, and the people here will be happier if things go back to the way they were. Even with me as a kind Duke in their eyes, they don't want to be a part of Soleil deep down. Keeping this territory could lead to consequences in the future, and I'd rather things go back to the way they were. Not only will it be easier for them, but me too."

"Oh." His thinking made sense. Life would never be entirely like before. Trying in some ways could be cathartic.

Sébastien pulled out a folded map and spread it out on the table. Lord Rochefort had suggested one path which went west and then south.

"I'm going to veer off course a little to do this village since it'll be quite close. Then we'll make our way to the Blue Road."

The Blue Road, which probably wasn't in good condition anymore, was paved with pale blue, flattish stones from a tapped quarry in the east. It went south past Calmerra and continued before heading west and to Biatano. A secondary part left Biatano and headed north along the western coast. One could take a branch to Calmerra, or continue north.

He noticed Sébastien carefully avoided mentioning that place or even putting his finger too close to it. Remus wasn't going to speak of it either.

"All right. We'll do that. Erm, if that special group the Regent has is lurking around, that won't throw them off much. It's pretty hard to hide two hundred men. I mean, they could be watching right now even with the men on a guard rotation."

"If we must fight them, we will. I think they'd prefer to wait until we're a little deeper in." Sébastien's finger swept over a spot. "There are some blank areas along this way, and it would be a better place to catch us there as we go. If we disappeared, it'd be a while before anyone found us, and we'd be skeletons in a grave by then."

Remus would prefer a plan that was a little more solid, but neither Sébastien nor anyone in camp could perfectly guess what lay ahead and plan for it. Still, Sébastien had done better than most at keeping himself alive.

"We need to be careful when going through this part." The Prince poked at a spot on the map. "The Moon Stone Trip is this way, and with those massive rocks, it would be a good spot to hide and waylay travelers. If they don't come, perhaps they intend to wait until I'm at my home which is why we can't dally. In fact, if they waited until I only had my smaller guard, that would likely be the best time to come after me. My manor home isn't built to withstand a battle."

Remus glanced up at Sébastien who was focused on the lines that made up Midland. His jasmine and rose smell was something he'd gotten used to, and he couldn't pretend he didn't like it. With Sébastien so close by the side of the table, he wanted to take the Prince's hand and draw him closer. A little affection would satisfy something that sex or masturbation couldn't quite cut.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the apology and the kiss. If the Prince was willing to let someone see the part inside that wasn't sour, and in fact could be considered sweet, maybe they didn't need to end things later with only them on their thrones and forever separate.

Who was to say they couldn't give more a try?

Sébastien started to fold the map. His life lately was all about planning where to go, what to do to stay alive, and how to work things around him so he could survive.

"What are you going to do afterward?" asked Remus.

"After what?"

"Say we survive, I've got my crown, you've got yours, the Regent is gone, Soleil is yours, you don't have to think about saving your life anymore, and everything works out optimally for us…what are you going to do?"

"I think that's obvious. The slaves will be released, and we'll have our countries to deal with." Sébastien slipped the folded map into the case. "What do you think rulers do in their Kingdoms?"

"I don't mean ruling and the daily humdrum tasks that come along with being the King," said Remus.

If Sébastien wanted nothing to do with him in the future and preferred to find his own way and a completely fresh start along with a potential person to spend it with, Remus couldn't blame him. Separating and putting things back as much as possible might be easiest for him while he tried to navigate his new life.

Remus thought of the kiss yet again. Not the one with the Prince furious and driven to lust for an outlet, but the one in the dark street. The way his lips had lingered on Remus's cheek and neck like he'd wanted something and not a quick experiment in kink that ended in shame.

Sébastien shrugged as he did the ties on the side of the case to keep shut. "I'm not there yet."

"There's more to life than work."

Some might say he was foolish. Still, he'd like it if they could meet again as equals with nothing dangerous pressing. Maybe the Prince would be more comfortable to let him in…although Remus wasn't sure what else he truly wanted or expected. Sébastien surely didn't quite view things as so cut and dried. He had Remus now even if he'd never admit it or allow himself to fully believe it. Remus stayed because he wanted to. He'd stick things out until the end so they could both have what belonged to them.

With both on the thrones, Sébastien should still have someone by him. Pretty much everyone needs it. Friends, family members, spouses, or perhaps children. The Prince didn't even have one true friend back home.

The scars from the past would never vanish, but he could thrive instead of survive.

With the case secured, Sébastien leaned forward a bit. "Remus, you'll get to rule Rowland and have everything that's yours. Matters in Soleil won't affect you at that point, and you'll be free to do what you please then. I already said I'm not starting a war, so you don't have to start planning for that."

"I wasn't. What if I wanted to kiss you then?"

Fuck. He hadn't meant to blurt that out so bluntly, and his mind scrambled to somehow tone it down. The Prince froze with his expression still neutral.

"Go to bed." Sébastien went to put away the case. "We have to be up early."

As if they slept in most mornings. Remus cursed himself as he heard items being shuffled in the trunk behind him. Too forward. Whatever Sébastien had thought that night in the street, he couldn't or wouldn't say it. If it had just been another experiment to offer a sliver of affection with no expectations and see what it felt like…maybe the sliver of sweetness wasn't meant to lure Remus that much.

Either way, Remus couldn't ignore the silent "no."

"I'll put the wine away, and you can wash up and change." Remus took the bottle and cups. Without looking behind him, he exited the tent and tried to ignore the flush of shame.

It didn't take that long to put away three small items, so he sat on a rough stump farther away from the men. He could still see the tent where the Prince was inside and getting ready for the night. And locking away who knew what.

***

Two days along the Blue Road passed without a hitch. Neither mentioned Remus's comment. They'd pretend it never happened, like everything else.

It was a bit early to stop when they came to the Moon Stone Trip. Remus had been to Midland before but never to this part, although he'd seen sketchings of the area in a book.

The rocky spot along the side of the road had been left there, and beyond it lay more stone coming from the ground. It formed an overhang, and several men got off of their horses to search the area since Sébastien said they should check for outlaws. He couldn't mention the potential group.

"No raggedy group of outlaws is going to mess with this many men," said Lord Dubois.

"It's a good spot and prone to attacks at times," said Sébastien. "You're welcome to go check all by yourself if you'd like."

Lord Dubois shut his mouth.

No outlaws were hiding behind the stones or in the surrounding woods. Remus stood by a rocky patch of ground that was choked with weeds and looked up.

The story was so old, nobody knew exactly who the Prince was. The name had been lost. Or perhaps it wasn't true, so the creator hadn't picked a name. Supposedly, the story Prince had been traveling through Midland to see the area when he'd noticed the moon in the sky. It had been surprisingly bright, and he'd become entranced by the sight, didn't watch where he was going, and tripped on the rocks.

One of the morals was that everyone shouldn't get so focused on one point ahead that they lose all sight of current things happening. Another was that even a Prince is small in the grand scheme of life, and there's always something bigger.

The last moral was that even a Prince needs to watch where the fuck he's going.

The men got to go look at the carvings beneath the overhang. Sébastien said they'd camp there since the space ahead by the side of the road was decent and flat enough.

Camp was set up, and dinner was eaten. Sébastien went to spend time with Whisper and probably tell him what a good boy he was. Remus washed and changed into fresh clothes before finally going to look at the carvings himself before it grew too dark to see without a lantern. A long stone that served as a bench sat there. He was sure someone had added it later.

No one knew how old the carvings were. They were set quite deep, and he suspected someone with a preserving ability had done it so centuries of wind and rain wouldn't wear it all away. The overhang also helped.

It was simple art and went from left to right. The big round thing was the moon. The Prince, a simple figure, stared at it. Next, he was on his knees and probably cursing his bruised kneecaps from tripping. Then, he was still on his knees, but watching the moon once more. In the end, he hadn't gotten up, and a lynx and a wolf stood on either side. All three watched the moon which was carved to be bigger than the first three.

It was an extremely basic illustration of the story which didn't include animals. Perhaps the wolf and lynx were added for artistic purposes and to show that morals applied to everyone? Or something like that. Another message may have been people sticking with others even when they were down.

The Prince could have been the original Soleilian one. Or even the King. That information had been lost to history. No one knew the names of the original King and Queen of Rowland. Prince Angelo and his twin, Caligo, had been born there with Angelo taking South Sea. Caligo must have later taken Rowland.

It grew darker, and he was staring at the little lynx when he caught a familiar smell. Sébastien stepped over the stone bench.

"I should have brought a lantern." He sat.

"I could get one," said Remus.

The Prince shrugged. "I can see it enough. I've seen it in a book before too so it's not exactly new."

"Me too. The artist must have quite liked the story and decided to embellish it a little."

"In Soleil, it's said the Prince was the first ruler of our Kingdom."

Remus rested his chin on his hand. "He's not named."

"No, but some think it's true. He came here to the midpoint of our two lands, and that's why he has a wolf and a lynx on either side of him."

"And then he returned to Soleil?"

"Yes."

"What's the moral of that story? Some kind of balance or something?"

"Pfft. I don't know. It's just a theory from an old book I read. You can say anything when the history isn't properly recorded. Another says that Gaul wasn't a talking rooster, but the first Prince and later King of Soleil, and the hens were the people who came with him to actually make the land into something worth considering as a real Kingdom. The lynx was…someone who wanted the land and finally conceded. The big threat was a band of fighters who tried to take it by force. It was turned into a story with animals later by someone with an imagination."

"Well…talking roosters is a bit unusual. I wasn't sure if I believed that."

"Mm. A wolf pulling everyone out of the stormy ocean is also a bit hard to believe."

Remus chuckled. "True. That's quite a change. That's also terrible that the lynx, er, the ally, died fighting."

"Feather tattoos often run in my line although we don't know how far back," said Sébastien. "My tattoos aren't rooster feathers, but perhaps that influenced the tale long ago."

They were something more like that of a phoenix which wasn't real. It was a beautiful bird in tales that always rose from the ashes. Roosters were tough and willing to protect their flock, and when they were dead, that was it.

It had grown so dim that he couldn't make out the lines of the moon, the Prince, the animals, or the man sitting next to him.

"You're a phoenix," Remus said in a low voice. "You always rise from the ashes."

"It must be tiring to always burst into flames and think you've found permanent peace, but…"

He didn't finish, and Remus could guess: to be dragged back and forced to live again. He should have known the Prince would see the worst in it.

"The suffering never ends," murmured Sébastien.

"Maybe they don't have to suffer later," said Remus. "A new life can mean new beginnings and chances. All of the past stuff is burned to ash."

"But is it really gone?" Sébastien asked bluntly.

No, not for them. They'd both remember the things of their past and how they'd gotten to the current point. Their crowns and thrones would be a new beginning, and the past would stay locked in stone.

"Even if it's not gone, it doesn't mean nothing good lies ahead," said Remus. "Maybe the phoenix stays because it wants to experience the rest too. There's something worth coming back for."

The Prince sat silent. In the cool darkness, the noises of the camp were low, and he could almost pretend it was just them with the heavy past behind them. The uncertain future lay ahead.

With a war on the horizon, maybe one wouldn't make it. Perhaps the wolf wouldn't be able to save everyone.

The Prince's clothes rustled beside him, and while he could barely be made out anymore, Remus was suddenly aware that the space between them had narrowed.

It was still closing.

Sébastien's warm hand cupped his cheek. Remus, not knowing what else to do, let his head be turned a little toward him, and the moment paused with the faintest tickle on his face from the Prince's breathing. Remus's heart picked up even though everything else may as well have stopped.

Sébastien's lips were so soft, Remus almost thought he was imagining them at first. He pressed a little harder, and Remus's chest ached. Had the phoenix been burned so many times that he found it hard to remember everything he could live for?

He reached to take the Prince's shoulder, intending to shift them a little so he could wrap his arms around Sébastien. They could kiss and nothing else to show him the small things were worth it.

The Prince's hand left his cheek to grab his wrist instead, halting him. The no was clear, but only to keep him from touching and taking control.

Dear Elira, his lips said yes as his other arm snaked over Remus's shoulder to grip the back of his neck. Remus let him have control. There was something almost clumsy about it with the Prince leading the kiss unlike before as if it were still entirely new to him.

Remus did it back, still letting him lead the pace, and he was too aware of the seconds sliding by. They'd have to part at some point, and he wanted to stay right there, experiencing the little crack in the shell that was far sweeter than last time.

Sébastien released his wrist and fisted the front of his shirt before pulling his head away and pausing. Remus wanted to kiss him again. Something so physical and intimate needed to be on his terms, and forcing it would be like shoving a knife into the little crack he'd dared to open.

He wasn't like what he'd heard the men saying before. A few sweet words and pushy actions wouldn't have the Prince happy to get on his back. He had to want this for himself and with someone he trusted enough.

Sébastien made a faint noise, and Remus expected him to say something. Instead, he let go and stood. Remus immediately tried to think if he'd done something to fuck it all up.

Something scraped along the stone, and he imagined the Prince feeling his way around so he didn't trip over the makeshift bench. "I need time to wash."

Which meant staying out of the tent and giving him time to do it. Except he was probably ashamed again. He'd clean himself and also spend the time patching the crack so he could pretend he didn't want anything and was safe behind his layers.

"Sébastien," Remus said, and a leaf crunched as the Prince paused. He didn't want it to end like this again with them both saying nothing. "Are we going to pretend nothing happened later? I mean, if that's what you really want, fine. I'm not forcing you to do anything else…"

He'd thought Sébastien ignoring his question that one night was a no. Kissing tonight seemed like a yes of some kind, and it'd be easier if the Prince said what he thought in some way even if it was a simple "I wanted to try it" or something of the sort.

"I thought maybe later, we-" What if that was the wrong thing to say? What if the Prince didn't want to try?

"Hating you would be easier," Sébastien said in a low voice.

"I don't want us to hate each other."

"You're Giorgio's son. I don't think my Father would like…this." Sébastien hastily walked away.