Vaelorian's life at the Imperial Palace was a blur of exhausting, high-stakes diplomacy. As expected, he spent three days immersed in the border security and logistics of the neighboring Sovereign Empire's upcoming Emperor's visit. The issues were real, relating to troop movements and supply lines. He focused entirely on the details, using his military expertise to cut through the bureaucracy. But he also wondered if his father was telling him everything.
On the third day, just hours before Vaelorian was due to depart for the camp, his father, summoned him to his private study. Vaelorian's trusted bodyguard and friend, Sir Eryndor, waited outside the doors. The Emperor, a man whose kindness was always secondary to his political needs, dismissed the advisors before offering Vaelorian a seat.
"The logistics are sound, Vaelorian. I'm told everything is in order." the Emperor said, leaning back in his chair. "Your work is exemplary, as always. You may return to your camp duties...after this."
Vaelorian felt a chill. "After what, father?"
"The true matter, the real reason..." the Emperor stated, his voice devoid of all fatherly emotions, "is not just about the border security issue. It is about peace. As you know, the issue with Duke Morwyn's human trafficking across the eastern border, a crime he skillfully frame the Sovereign Empire for cannot be simply resolved with an apology. This issue has nearly pushed us to war."
Vaelorian's eyes narrowed. "I thought handing the Sovereign emperor Morwyn's head was enough?"
"That's Irrelevant now," the Emperor waved off the moral outrage. "The Sovereign Emperor demands restitution. A true act of remorse. And for that, he has offered a proposal of sort: an alliance cemented not by gold, but by blood and marriage."
The Emperor fixed his son with a cold, unyielding gaze that usually leaves no room for bargains.
"You are to be wed to Princess Lyra, the Sovereign Emperor's second daughter. The marriage will quench the immediate threat of war, satisfy their honor, and secure our alliance for a generation. This is what's best for everyone. It's is non-negotiable."
Vaelorian felt the blood drain from his face. He immediately thought about his carefully constructed life—his love, his freedom—collapsed in an instant. Why is this happening again?
"Father, no," Vaelorian said, his voice hard with disbelief. "I cannot do this. I have—"
"You have a duty to the Empire, son," the Emperor cut in sharply. "Nothing else matters. You will return to the camp, sort your affairs, and return to the capital in three weeks for the betrothal ceremony. Consider this the biggest battle of your life, Vaelorian. This will buy us the peace we need."
Vaelorian sat there frozen, the Emperor's words a physical weight. He thought instantly of Riven, of their promise, and of the raw, bright life he was about to shatter. No matter the decision he makes, he's really going to hurt him.
Later that day, Vaelorian and Sir Eryndor left the imperial Palace, arriving at the camp late in the night. He went straight to their room and cuddled Riven to sleep, the weight of the betrothal heavy on his shoulders.
The next morning, Vaelorian performed the role of the devoted, duty-bound lover with chilling perfection. He couldn't bring himself to tell Riven what happened.
"We leave in an hour," Vaelorian told Riven after breakfast, his voice calm, suppressing the desperate turmoil churning inside. "I've arranged for leave and Eryndor will be teleporting us. Pack only what you need."
Riven was ecstatic but wary. "You've been acting weird since you got back. I can sense something is wrong. You're really not going to try to back out of this last minute, are you?"
Vaelorian met Riven's gaze, attempting to discuss their promised private time, trying to find a reason not to go that doesn't involve the marriage.
"I gave you my word, Riven," Vaelorian said, forcing a casual tone. "However, the Palace was...difficult. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a few quiet, private days here? It would be less exposed, and less stressful. I can ask your instructors to give you a few days off."
"No. Absolutely not," Riven countered firmly. "A promise is a promise. You and I need a complete break from this camp, and I need to go home for just two days. We're going. You're not going to back out now."
"I have to go now—I need a clue about the real Riven's secret crush." Riven thought inwardly.
Vaelorian, seeing the depth of Riven's need and knowing he owed him this piece of happiness, surrendered.
"Very well. Gather your things."
As he packed, Riven felt the familiar mix of excitement and anxiety. He was going back to the source of his new life, hoping to find clues that could help him in fulfilling the last of Riven's mission.
The real Riven hadn't gone to school with other kids, or been to this camp to have acquaintances outside the manor which means, his crush might be there. So, there's only one thing to do. He needs to go back to where it all began, his family estate.
"So, your home, what kind of place is it?" Vaelorian asked, sounding genuinely interested when Riven finished packing.
"It's umm...an estate," Riven said sheepishly, trying to ignore the crushing knowledge that this would be his first time seeing the place too. "big, but homey...I guess? I spent more time studying than exploring. I can't really say much until you see it for yourself. I can have someone show you around, if you want." he added forcing a cheerful smile.
Vaelorian smiled in understanding. "I prefer your company, I'm looking forward to exploring your family's estate with you." He told him before letting Sir Eryndor know they're ready to leave.
When Sir arrived, he stood between both boys and in the blink of an eye, they arrived outside the gates of the Ashbourne Manor. A staff member announced their arrival upon seeing their young master, the main doors immediately burst open, and Duke Ashbourne himself came rushing out, followed by a flurry of servants.
The Duke's eyes, however, immediately locked onto Vaelorian.
"Your Highness!" the Duke exclaimed, bowing deeply with a mixture of immense surprise and immediate deference. "Welcome to my home! We were not informed that the Prince would be visiting!"
Riven stared, frozen, as the Duke continued, treating Vaelorian with the profound respect reserved for Imperial Royalty. Riven still finds it strange that adults react this way around Vaelorian, even his father is reacting so strongly to the arrival of the Emperor's son.
Vaelorian quickly attempted to redirect the situation. "Good day, Duke Ashbourne. Please, the formalities are unnecessary. I am here purely as Riven's friend, this is a personal visit."
The Duke, however, was already in full political swing. "Nonsense, Your Highness! Your presence is an honor! I shall have the west wing prepared immediately. Riven, have someone take the Prince's luggage and show him to the master suite!" He declared but Vaelorian insisted he would stay wherever Riven is staying.
And so, the Duke reluctantly allowed them to take Vaelorian's bag up to Riven's quarters. They settled in before Eryndor left them alone.
"It must be tiring being treated by people like that because you're the prince." Riven stated quietly, his voice flat when they were finally alone.
"I'm used to it." Vaelorian replied, sighing. "My title holds minimum currency in the camp because I want it so. But, outside the camp, I can't control how I'm addressed or how people act around me. It is just a fact of my birth." He pulled Riven into a gentle hug. "But with you, I am just Vaelorian. I am yours alone."
Later after dinner, as Vaelorian slept, Riven crept out of bed, opening the mahogany box he had examined earlier on the desk. He gazed at the contents—there were several letters written but addressed to no one except not a small, folded piece of paper. It looked like a piece torn out for a journal... a diary entry maybe:
>I failed again. I'm tired. No matter what I do, I can't be what Father needs. I regret that I can't make Father proud, or be brave enough to write to him about my feelings...my life already means nothing without my prince. Goodbye, Vaelorian.>
Riven blinked, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he carefully put the paper away.
The secret crush was Vaelorian?
How's that even possible? His second mission was dependent on the very person he'd been sleeping next to in the same room with for the past how many months?
Why didn't this body give him a sign?
Riven closed the box and went back to bed trying to wrap his head around everything. The only thing on his mind was how to confess to Vaelorian that he had a crush on him.
Would that count as getting his crush to notice him?