[A/N] Extra long chapter up ahead... ( • ̀ᵕ •́ )✧

[Demosthenes' POV]

Beaming bright rays of sunlight accompanied us down to meet the soldiers as they were set to leave, the first armies ready to seize control of farmland, with no need to see their king follow, would not be necessarily required in such number, and so only two hundred infantry were set to follow fifty on foot.

They were the kind of men that were eager for some kind of battle, most of them, and the air of tenseness was just so easily matched with the whisper of anticipation, waiting for me to send them off. 

That was the strange factor of war that one did not always see, while the trials of war dragged many souls to grim fates, and charged their loved ones with similar punishments, caused famine and anger and the kind of vitriol that sinks into the very soil it was born on, there was still a bloodlust in men that drove us onward, men and woman, a need to see work done, a victory of some kind promising peace for all.

Ophelos, while accompanying me quietly from behind, his high nose feigning the airs of the spoiled servant master, covertly accepted the information from his men as it was delivered to him in quiet whispers that never made it much further than the ear they were directed to.

And occasionally he stepped forward and murmured these snippets of information into my ear much the same.

Elpis and his servant friend bathed in the bathhouse. I felt the glimmer of annoyance tackle my eyes. Ophelos lowered his eyes and backed away quickly but I felt the cautiousness in them as he watched me from afar, the message delivered in a slightly frustrated tone.

Still, it was nothing compared to what I might have felt before. Knowing he was covered so beautifully in the marks that warned strangers hands away from him, that sparked the imagination as to where they came from.

Somehow our visit to the brothel had both drawn my guard up higher around him and made it thinner. The realisation that his betrayal was not all blackness as I had thought it was left the scar tissue growing rather thicker, that is to say, I accidentally allowed myself to trust him.

I did not know a man I had yet trusted as much as him in so short a time. Ophelos who had taken care of me since I was a teen, had spent the better part of ten years with dedicated service, and Cigol much the same, since the day we met. The generals had some trust of mine, through years of fighting blood sweat and tears.

And yet above them all, somewhere off in the distance, sat Elpis, the freedom in his veins somehow carried into the palace with him.

I once looked upon him and wondered how delicious it would be to watch him be debauched and maddened by me, to see the burning need in his eyes each time I crossed his path, to see that fresh breeze that freedom carried turn into something more desperate and dizzy, to trap him and watch him enjoy it.

But I could have both, I realised, to drive myself into him and watch him drift about the place like a weightless fool.

There was something so addictive about it.

Perhaps it was only the weightlessness of a dancer, but even when he shared in my troubles he seemed to make them lighter still.

He would still have to learn the more restrictive sense of modesty required, and I would admittedly enjoy seeing that. All dressed up like a lord at my side, I doubted he would be very comfortable in the public eye, I should have to take my time to undress him.

My blood felt a little hot as I considered it carefully.

[Elpis's POV]

"Elpis!" There was a murmur of surprise as we returned to the familiar servants tower, the moody tired faces of the nights workforce ready to drink and fall asleep. "We near thought you dead!" Hierson laughed, clapping me on the back.

I greeted them all with a grin, relaxing in the cold stone walls which the slippery stone steps lead to, the smell of damp and the odd echo in the main circular kitchen area all a relieving reminder that I was back. The chill I felt sitting on that brothel bed still haunted me quietly, though I had no more an understanding of where I was headed than I did before.

"What are you still awake for?" I asked them. "And do you not work during the day?" I asked Hierson.

"We were sent down to wait on Her Ladyship's daughter while they celebrated, she's just come of age, the other servants are all sleeping already. Oh to be still and watch all that drinking..." He looked mournful. "We've got some of our own now."

They raised their glasses and invited us inside, but Natham seemed hesitant while I naturally moved to sit down with them, a slight smile on my face.

"Elpis..."

I looked up at him, puzzled. "What? You've no work today." I leaned in a little closer. "I thought we discussed this?"

He frowned and pulled me aside, in fact pushing me lightly outside the door while they watched, and closing the door quietly behind us.

"Natham?"

"Light drinking, no games, don't bet any money or promise any dares... Don't-"

"You..." I began to frown at him. "What is this? You've begun to speak like Ophelos."

He scoffed. "Elpis just because it's a secret doesn't mean you aren't subject to the same rules."

I breathed out quietly. "Natham, it really cannot be compared."

"What will happen when your union is brought public? You think you will be treated the same?"

"I..."

"Brides until marriage cannot drink more than half a cup of wine every seven days, and their food must be tested before each meal, someone will follow..." He glanced behind us, around the seemingly empty hallway and open area and rested his knowing eyes on mine. "Well, you've already got that. And clothes..." He looked me up and down. "I never really considered just how strange the clothes you wear are, like a lords but with muted colours, too modest for royalty, they'll probably pick something white, and if you get it dirty-"

"White is a woman's colour Natham." I interrupted, although I wasn't sure of myself. "You know that as well as I do, and I can't be expected to drink as little wine as a woman either-"

"Even so, I think you don't realise how much things will change. You shouldn't be here right now, you should be sitting with a teacher who will teach you etiquette, the ladies all go through their studies at a young age. You'll have to impress them too, they form the bulk of the palace's gossip supply, the young lords and ladies..."

"This won't apply to me." I shook my head.

"Why are you so sure?"

"He can't make it public..." I spoke quietly. "In fact, isn't his lack of hiring an etiquette teacher proof of this?"

Natham thought about it for a moment in silence, his brow furrowing.

"And even if he did... I don't think he would expect the same of me as one would of a queen, I could never be one."

He looked confused. "Why ever not?"

"It's not tradition to marry a male..." I replied, still half stuck contemplating the question. "Even if I was brought into the public... they'd put every foot down they own in order to assure I was settled as some sort of attendant rather than... well, what do they call a male queen?"

He frowned. "When is the last time a King of Euphranor has had a concubine?"

"When was any last married to a man?" I grumbled. "It's rare I deal in absolutes but I'm telling you, it's not possible." 

There was a pinch of sadness that I rebuked immediately. What should I be dreaming of exactly? Why did the thought make me sad at all? I knew the moment I gave up Eudocia that my idealistic dream was gone, no wife sitting by the fireside working on the spindle, no children running about my ankles as I set off to work...

But the feeling I got just sitting beside him trumped any made up vision, just the feeling in my chest, it was enough to make my head feel sick with happiness.

He exhaled through his nose, a troubled look on his face. "I'm trying to ignore how bizarre this conversation is, but it's difficult. I do really hope you know what you're getting into my friend." He slapped my back and guided me back to the seat.

Anyway I didn't have much of a mood for heavy drinking, now that war had well and truly descended one had the need both to drink and to stay mortifyingly sober.

So I slowly drank from my small cup and listened to them talk cheerily, they were well into their drinks and so I knew our morning festivities would be short, but it felt good to be surrounded by the increasingly slurred words from the familiar jovial faces.

We sang songs and played games, though I took no dares and drank no more than three small cups of wine which Natham said was quite enough despite joining in with six.

They became drunk far quicker than a man who was not already dying for sleep and could barely hold their eyes open at the table.

Hierson put his face in his hand and looked at me, just barely. "Do you have a dream for the future?" He asked me. "You can't mean to entertain forever..."

"I... might..."

"Why shouldn't he?" Natham asked, confused.

Hierson laughed. "How long to entertainers laugh? God knows even peasants get bored of them eventually, the man is a King, we must be realistic." He turned to me with a pointed finger. "Realistic."

I shuffled uncomfortably and nodded. "Right."

"And we all know war is coming, has it come?" He looked out of the window. "Probably. Oh, you'll be drafted I suppose, if you're no good to anybody by then, they need us but they won't need you will they?" He squinted at the bright light streaming through the opening in the wall. He didn't mean to be callous, they were the words that passed through unfiltered, purely thoughts, no moderation.

Natham looked at me, uncomfortable. "Hierson..."

"Drafted..." I mumbled.

"Into the war." He clarified, turned and squinted at me, looking me up and down. "You look in better shape then most men, if a bit... ahhh... little bit... ah, thin, could put some weight on you..." He nodded his heavy head.

I watched him rub his face with his hands and thought about it quietly.

"Would that be so bad?"

This time it was not only Hierson that perked their head up to look at me. Hierson furrowed his brows and picked up a half full cup. "You like the thought of war?"

I shook my head fast. Of course not, but the more I thought about it... When they left, would they not eventually take Demosthenes with them? Would he lead the charge? When he was fast approaching the age where most men in his position die... no, he'd already outlived their expectations.

I sat there for a cold moment wondering how it would be possible to sit waiting somewhere else while he was off, like my parents, brothers and sisters, off to fish in an ocean that seemed unusually unfriendly, the dark underbelly opening up to swallow one or two of our neighbouring seafarers.

"You'll find something to do... Don't be sad... Perhaps you can join the ranks of the servants one day?" Hierson patted me on the back. "It might seem like a step down, but really entertainers are below us in many ways, this life is much more sust- sust- t-" He seemed to be having some trouble pronouncing the word. "Sustainable."

"Sustainable?" Natham laughed. "I think you mean another word-"

He was cut short, however, when the door slammed open, the sound of splintering wood, though no cracks were visible, and the smacking on stone, giving everyone at the table quite the scare.  

"Do you fools not think no one is sleeping at this hour!" Growled the heavy voice of an even heavier man, his his grim expression matching the large hand that slapped the wall as he stormed into the room.

Nathan grabbed my arm and pulled me up and I stumbled to my feet.

Hierson glared up at him. "You yourself kept us all up with your wailing last time."

"I nearly broke my crown!" He hissed, his thick beard moving with his mouth as he talked, thick dark eyebrows sitting directly on his eyes.

"You bumped your forehead Haemon!" Hierson waved his arm. "And made us all carry you to bed! I dreamt I was carrying a whole cow that night..."

"You could simply ask for a beating Hierson!" Haemon yelled at him, raising a tight fist. "Rather than tempting me! You wait until I tell Ophelos about this, speak this way to your master and see what retribution you get!"

Hierson looked somewhat apprehensive but did not back down. "You think I'm afraid?! You think you're my master you stupid sod, go back to chasing the baker!"

Natham tugged my arm and I nodded sheepishly, looking down at my near full cup and picking it up, downing the rest of the wine a little too quickly to taste it. 

"Elpis..." He rolled his eyes, pulling my arm to the small gap left in the doorway and I hurried out of the room with him. He wagged a finger at me as we left. 

"He won't mind..." I told him as we hurried from the room and decided to make our way back out of the servants tower. "I'm sure of it."

He shook his head in disbelief as he eyed me down while we walked down. "What will you do then, as you stay here? Do you want to leave?"

I shook my head, my heart trembled with the conviction in my head. I did not want to leave his side. So I changed the subject.

"You never told me, how is your sister?" I asked him quickly.

He stared at me, the change in topic did not go unnoticed "She's well, married, but well."

"Married!" I repeated jubilantly. "I wish her many blessings."

"Yes, well, not a step up but he makes a living I suppose. She doesn't seem too disturbed."

"How long before you've taken on the role as uncle then? I'll tell you, there's nothing quite so surprising as a hand smaller than a quarter of your palm trying to grip your thumb, small enough to baffle you, large enough to make you wonder at the woman that bore it." I hummed.

We stepped out into the grassy earth and moved away quickly, as though Haemon might be hot on our trail, and for a while longer discussed Natham and his sister, the unfortunate who by Natham's view married too soon for his liking.

Natham had many aspirations for his family, and with the money he sent back they were at least living well, but with time one was expected to marry and go on to better things, and Natham as the brother was too far away and too cut off to help make those decisions for his sister.

"The library..." I told him after a moment.

"We won't have permission to go there..."

"We'll be fine." I told him quietly, taking his arm and pulling him along with me.

He shook his head in disbelief as he followed. "You were daring before, but look at the smile on your face now, you worry me, how far you've fallen for him..."

"Not so." I shook my head.

"I don't believe it." He spoke as he followed me. "From friend to friend I must say, I think you're becoming a complacent fool, Elpis. If you relationship with him is made public your station in life will change, you'll have to obey certain rules. Dress correctly, behave correctly, eat and sleep correctly. Can you manage that?"

I looked at the genuinely concerned face of my friend.

I tried to picture it, expecting it to be difficult, to see myself sitting beside him in some fancy costume that might be worn by an actor. Only it wasn't so hard to do. I could even picture the feeling of it, sitting next to him and seeing him smile at me as though we had passed between us some kind of inside joke.

It would seem as though I was truly settled at his side. 

All arguments put to rest. The somehow unsettled situation of his marriage no longer an option.

It gave me a dull ache in the centre of my chest that startled and alarmed me, and which I quickly tried to bury and ignore, but which still echoed up into my throat.

I swallowed. "I will never happen." I said quietly, with conviction.

He looked up at the sky for second, then exhaled and looked back at me. "You asked what title that would be... You would be... Prince Consort." He looked a little wary of the term. "Prince Consort Elpis of the Outsiders..." He whispered the words, eying me over. "Something like that."

I didn't answer.

"God, I hope I never have to call you that and kneel with my forehead to the floor each time I see you." He continued humorously but I could tell he was uneasy.

"I've never wanted to be that tall..." I reassured him.

He snickered. "And imagine telling the others about it. They'll have a riot. Hierson might be a jolly good fellow but he's as much entrenched in the whole hierarchy business as Haemon. You have to be sometimes, as a serf."

[Ophelos's POV]

"What?" I blinked wide.

"I want him to see the army as they leave." Demosthenes told me as he stood watching the routine ceremony of ashes as the priests blessed the soldiers before they would be set to leave. "It's a sight worth watching..." He spoke casually, his voice low and calm.

I had never heard him ask for Amun to accompany him before. That wasn't to say that he failed to be a father, because in a way that not many were privy to, Demosthenes had quietly protected his son from a distance as well as he could, and tried, as much as the bitter icy that sat between them, to show his son some affection secretly, either by giving him sweets or sending someone after him to show the approval he couldn't quite muster up the grit for, for his son's small successes.

But to take him in public, before his men, on an important day, and not see him as an emotional hinderance. I really feared the power of the spritely little outsider that naively sat in his bed.

"Did you find a good teacher?"

I pursed my lips and bowed. "Yes sire."

"We'll send him to him soon, it'll keep him busy while I'm gone, should it come to that."

"Yes..." I frowned with concern but soldiered on. "Yes sire."

He glanced back at me, a low laugh rumbling from his chest. "You disapprove of everything."

I exhaled through my nose and looked away. "Your decisions are always wise."

He rolled his eyes and looked forward again. "Elpis has to learn his place beside me. You should be jubilant."

"Then I will select some particularly tough teachers for him." I eyed the King down from my slight bow.

He scoffed and shook his head. "Go on then."

[A/N] In case any of my patrons don't have email notifications turned on there is a new years special chapter out, and part two will be out soon!

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