Twenty-Four #3
“Truly, though,” the prince said, solemn and soft, “if my parents lose their minds and select Floy as my partner, I swear on my cold and bound heart that I will throw myself off the dovecote tower before I submit to marrying them. I would never subject you to such a thing.”
Strangely, the thought of watching anyone marry the prince felt just as terrible in that moment, but Cin covered his flash of despair with a snort.
“Don’t you dare subject me to your untimely demise either.
” He kissed the prince gently on the cheek before snuggling back against him.
“At least, not unless you’re taking me with you. ”
Prince Lorenz hummed sadly. “How tragic that would be...”
The two of them together was already tragic, though, Cin knew—whether it had hit Lorenz or not, Cin was certain he’d not emerge from the highs of their free-falling relationship unscathed.
And perhaps a part of him wanted no one in their vicinity to be untouched by that.
He drew back, both hands finding Prince Lorenz’s, and held on tightly.
Through the entrance hall, Floy emerged, their stance tight and their expression already clouded by jealousy, yet somehow the sight of them couldn’t dampen Cin’s desires in the slightest. “Though we’ll still see each other, this may be our last night like…
like this,” Cin told the prince. “I want to go out in a blaze of glory with you. Before you give your hand to another, I want them all to know it was me you chose first.”
“Well, isn’t that serendipitous?” The prince outright simpered. “Because I want the entire kingdom to know that you are the most magnificent creature to ever breathe.”
F or what felt like hours, Cin was barely ever out of the prince’s reach, not from the delicacies they slipped each other, to the turns Prince Lorenz took Cin in across the dance floor.
It was all things they had done during previous ball weeks, but it felt different this time.
No longer a first, but something better.
Something fuller. Where an unfathomable man had been six weeks before, there was now a friend and lover; sometimes still mysterious, but just as often Cin found he could spot the emotion beneath the prince’s mask of charm, and predict his responses in seamless rhythm.
They flowed together, enthralled still, but now also in tune.
And the whole room noticed.
Where there had been rumors before, now there were facts: jealousy and defeat, some guests turning angry while others slipped out or faded into the corners.
The woman Prince Lorenz had been with on the balcony the first ball night tried to steal him away for a dance, only to be graciously turned down.
Her neck reddened from the strength of her blush and she stormed off into the garden. One of the twins left to console her.
All the while that Cin and the prince moved through the room, amusing themselves in every way they could think to, he kept an eye on his sibling.
Floy was watchful as well, their gaze always turned toward Prince Lorenz.
Toward Cin. He could only spot their resentment in the tiniest of twitches and the way they kept pushing forward to try to speak with the prince, only to be ignored as he wrapped his arm around Cin and laughed at some joke he pretended Cin had whispered to him.
Their growing frustration was enough to make Cin giddy, though.
It served Floy right to feel less desired, for once.
Less esteemed, and exalted. Without their mother to hoist them onto a pedestal, perhaps they were realizing that they were just a person, like any other—no more or less above the drudgeries of life.
Cin had as much right to a beautiful party and an attentive lover as they did.
And Floy was not the only one upset by that.
Who does this arrogant seducer think he is?
the other guests whispered. Lower class, is he?
But then it has to be magic that makes his outfit so fine…
Would Prince Lorenz truly put his kingdom in this stranger’s hands?
The prince is a rake, surely, but regardless of who he sleeps with, he’ll choose a competent marriage partner, right? Even Floy was saying it.
Cin was certain they all knew he could hear them; they simply didn’t care anymore. There was no hiding their frustration every time Prince Lorenz leaned in to kiss Cin’s neck, or whisper in his ear, or wrap his hands around Cin’s back.
As the night grew long and it seemed there was no intention to bring the ball to a close, Cin could feel Prince Lorenz’s presence more and more keenly.
Every touch, every whisper, every laugh—it left Cin more and more breathless.
And as the time ticked away, he began to think less and less of those around them, one of whom was destined to spend the rest of their life with the prince, and more of all that he hadn’t gotten to do with Lorenz. His Lorenz. His prince.
Whatever the dawn might alter for their continued friendship, he was not leaving here without knowing every last mystery that Prince Lorenz had to offer him. He needed, too, to know when and where and how they’d keep seeing each other.
With the last step of a minuet coming to a close, Cin slid closer to his prince, letting his hand wander down to the small of the prince’s back. “This has been lovely, Your Highness, but a proper blaze burns beyond the ballroom, does it not?”
Prince Lorenz glanced at the guests around them, then the servants and guards beyond that.
“With the announcement of my partner impending, we may need to get creative in our absconding.” His expression grew smug and he leaned in.
“It’s a good thing I’m acquainted with a man who can climb just about anything. ”
Cin mirrored his look. “I certainly can.” Most especially now, with his chest freed of the bindings it had once demanded and his ribs released of the pain that had infiltrated even their former intimacy. He wove his fingers through the prince’s, and squeezed. “Let’s go climbing then, shall we?”
And as Cin walked away from the dance floor, hand in hand with the prince, he pretended for a moment that he could be just like Olinda.