Chapter 16 #5
Each piece of clothing felt like a cage closing around him - the crisp white shirt that transformed him back into royalty, the black mourning trousers that reminded him of everything he'd lost and everything he was about to lose again.
The air was bitterly cold against his skin, and every instinct screamed at him to crawl back under the warm blankets, to wrap himself around Jakob's sleeping form and never, ever leave.
But duty called for him, as it always did.
He picked up his black jacket, and the weight in the breast pocket made his hands tremble.
The Order of the Seraphim and the letter - his heart laid bare in ink and jewels, his desperate attempt to protect the man he was about to abandon.
His fingers shook as he pulled both items from the pocket, the diamonds catching the weak morning light.
By the time he was fully dressed, he felt like Crown Prince Harald again instead of just Hal - contained, controlled.
Suffocated by expectations and responsibilities that felt impossibly heavy after the freedom of last night.
The transformation made his chest tight with loss, made him want to tear off every stitch and climb back into a world where he was just a man in love.
Hal looked at his greatcoat, the one he'd worn throughout his time at Riddarhuset.
It was lined with black sable, a concession to Hal's position as Prince of Sweden.
He wouldn't need it any longer — he wouldn't even be allowed to wear it.
But Jakob? Perhaps it could keep Jakob warm in Finland.
One last small thing that Hal could do to take care of the man that he loved.
He left it where it was, hanging over the chair at the dining table.
He placed the Order and letter carefully on Jakob's pillow, close enough that Jakob would see them immediately upon waking. The ring on his finger - their ring - felt impossibly heavy, the only piece of last night he was allowed to keep.
He was reaching for the door handle when he heard it - a soft rustle of sheets, a confused murmur in Russian that made his heart stop.
"Hal?" Jakob's voice was rough with sleep, uncertain. "What... what time is it?"
Hal's hand fell from the door, and he turned to find Jakob pushing himself up on one elbow, hair sticking up at impossible angles, eyes still heavy with sleep but growing clearer by the second. The sight of him - rumpled and beautiful and utterly, heartbreakingly his - nearly sent Hal to his knees.
"Early," Hal managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to wake you."
Jakob's gaze took in Hal, already fully dressed in his suit and tie, and understanding flooded his face along with something that looked like panic. "You're leaving." It wasn't a question.
"I have to." The words sounded like a sob and felt like glass in Hal's throat.
"The car is waiting, and if I don't go now...
" He couldn't finish the sentence. If he didn't go now, he knew he wouldn't be able to.
Might abandon everything - crown, country, duty - for the man looking at him with those devastating blue eyes.
Jakob sat up fully, the quilt pooling around his waist, and held out his hand. "Come here."
Hal shouldn't. He should walk out that door right now before this got any harder. But his feet moved without his conscious decision, carrying him back to the bed, to Jakob, to the only place he belonged.
Jakob's hands framed his face the moment he was within reach, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones with infinite tenderness. "My prince," he whispered, and the title had never sounded like an endearment before, never carried the weight of absolute devotion. "Look at me."
Hal met his eyes, and nearly broke at what he saw there - love, yes, but also acceptance. Jakob understood what this cost, understood what they were both sacrificing, and somehow that made it both easier and infinitely worse.
"Jakob—"
"No." Jakob's thumbs pressed gently against his lips. The tears Hal had been fighting finally spilled over, and Jakob caught them with his lips, kissing them away with a desperation that mirrored Hal's own.
"I'm so scared," Hal admitted against Jakob's mouth. "What if something happens to you? What if this is all we ever get?"
"Then it would be enough." Jakob's voice was fierce now, certain. He pulled back to meet Hal's eyes. "Just to have you like this, in my bed and my heart, would be enough."
Hal's hands fisted in the sheets, in Jakob's hair, trying to anchor himself. "I don't know how to let you go."
They kissed then, desperate and clinging, trying to pour a lifetime of love into a few stolen moments. Hal could taste the salt of tears - his own, Jakob's, he didn't know - could feel the way Jakob's hands shook as they mapped his face one last time.
"I have to go," Hal whispered eventually, though the words felt like they were tearing him apart.
"I know." Jakob's voice was steady, but his eyes were bright with unshed tears. They kissed one last time, soft and reverent, then he forced himself to stand. To walk to the door. To not look back, because if he did, he'd never leave.
And then Hal was outside, in the cold grey dawn, leaving his heart behind in a cottage that smelled of bread and love and everything he'd ever wanted but couldn't have.