ALXINFIELD, Royal Estate, Year 079 Y.D.
Rionne Ylandreaz, the Seventh Prince, stands before Ilayan. He has not met him since after the day of his return, nor when he asked the Emperor's Majesty for their marriage agreement. Given the pressing situations; five days is already plenty of time to compose himself ahead of their future encounter. Yet, none of his mental preparation had thickened his face enough from feeling flustered. Although they were no strangers to each other, today, he is seeing Rionne through the lenses of a presumptive husband. Watching the person himself, graceful in greetings and voluptuous in his charms, he can't help but restrain his emerging embarrassment. Where had he pulled the courage to request their union? Had he not known ever since they were young, which are long years ago, that Rionne had noble suitors lining up for him, but now, he easily acquired his hands.
"I thought my eyes deceived me," Rionne says, beckoning him to sit in a velvet-cushioned chair. His lips register a perfunctory smile, making the sarcasm in his meaning no secret to Ilayan. "I wonder why you finally decided to visit, five days after venturing an audacious request from his Emperor's Majesty like it doesn't involve me in the slightest."
"It was indeed my negligent, your Highness. I know the matters that have kept me preoccupied were not an excuse," Ilayan says, evading Rionne's penetrating gaze. "I should have seen you sooner."
"Your Highness?" Rionne echoes, raising an eyebrow. "Should I be gladdened by your courteousness? But… it appears quite an improper address for your fiancée, isn't it?"
Ilayan restrains a flinch. Only now does he discovers the impact of the word fiancée. As always, Rionne had never shied away from him; straightforward even in awkward circumstances, maintaining his dignity as a prince.
"You might be my fiancée now," Ilayan eyes him. "But you are still a part of the royal family. Even not for formality, I would still address you a title befitting your honor."
There is a moment of pause in Rionne's movements, lasting a couple of seconds, then he proceeds to continue pouring the tea, he personally brewed, on Ilayan's cup. Right after, he raises his head to meet Ilayan's hazel eyes, which Ilayan suspects as his way of assessing him. So, he sits straight, presenting himself as steady as he can.
"Should that be enough of the small talk?" Rionne says, cutting off the pleasantries. He beckons his aids a look, signaling them to withdraw from the receiving chamber. As the two of them remain, the air also changes, growing more serious. Even the hint of mischief from Rionne's eyes fades. "I reckon you came here not to have a romantic conversation with me."
"Would it be presumptuous of me?" Ilayan ventures. He knows, for all certainty, that Rionne is not a person with interest in such sweet topics. Genuine love is rare in a noble's household; how much more in the royal family? Once, he advises him that only by dulling his emotions can he become less vulnerable to pain and disappointments. And if Ilayan can remember it correctly, it was when he was brooding over his father's deliberate negligence and disregard for his ailing mother. Rionne resigned himself to this belief, and now, he grew to become a person who's unable to feel deeply.
"I know that this marriage agreement was initially due to the possible advantages that we can both gain. But, I will be frank and sincere, your Highness, no… Rionne. You will not only marry me and become my consort but also, soon, you will be part of my family. I will treat you wholeheartedly like a proper husband. And that will include my affection."
Rionne speaks no word, maintaining the indifference in his gaze.
"Of course… you need not remind me, a seith of royal rearing, the duties of serving my husband."
Perhaps, the time is not ripe for such exchange, and Ilayan knows that it will only lead to nothing. He can tell at a sight; the prince's interior is not so easy to pry. So, he sighs, temporarily giving up his attempt to cultivate a closer connection with Rionne.
"Forget it. We have plenty of time in the future," he resigns. "Although I came here for other purposes, I also wanted to take this opportunity to cultivate our friendship."
"Is that so, General?" Rionne says, stifling a sarcastic grin. "I reckon our friendship already beyond familiarity. Have you forgotten that you are the only man I am in association with? And in just two weeks, you are going to be my husband. As I said, I know my duty. So, whatever your demand, as long as it is within my responsibility as your consort, I will comply earnestly."
There is no point in taking the topic further, therefore, Ilayan only observes Rionne as the intimate glow of sunset paints shadows on his face. Perhaps, he can only proceed to one of his goals.
"I suppose you can already tell that I am not only here for emotional reasons," he shifts the conversation, his voice growing stern, carrying a hint of authority. "Call it intuition, but whenever I think of it, I thought you're the one who can tell me the answer. The Duke of Keinfolk…"
Ilayan regards him keenly. Although he is uncertain, a voice deep within his mind tells him that Rionne probably has the answers to most of his questions. To him, underneath Rionne's cold exterior remains a mystery. He knows nothing about the real motive behind his agreement to Lady Michelle's schemes. And, he has no idea about the things that run into his thoughts. For all of Rionne's intelligence, he also can't remain a passive chess piece of the imperial backhouse. After all, the royal bloodline flows in his veins; he is a prince. There should be more of him than mere title and reputation. Still, he perceives that he means no malicious intent to him, and perhaps it is because Rionne is a year older than him, or because, when they were young, Rionne would always listen to his complaints and rumblings even how much the conversation bores him. He recognizes him as trustworthy. To begin with, he would dare not to associate with him, as to extent of marriage, if not of their bond.
"Oh, that reminds me," Rionne says, his voice with clear disdain. "A news came to me before you returned, informing me that the Duke of Keinfolk encountered an ambush on his way to Eastern Turose."
"He said he was on his journey to propose to a seith of a Marques."
"A diplomatic union is not for him alone, a mere duke, to decide. We can't verify the truthfulness of those words, Ilayan. He brings with him an entire troop and a platoon of skilled shadow guards. I need not remind you that only us, born of in the Ylandreaz household, can command those soldiers. Also, you have been away for three years, and in the first place, you are not familiar with Duke Maximo. He is a cunning, ambitious bastard, and a fanatic dog to the fifth prince."
A glint of vicious light flashes by Ilayan's eyes, thinking of the spiteful, promiscuous bastard he once fought as a rival to Erin. Even if limited people know, still, the enmity within them had long been deepened. "Prince Felix?"
"Quite an acquaintance isn't he?" Rionne says, amused. "He has the audacity to aim for the throne, you can't regard him completely as an idiot. After all, we came from the same shrewd, and ruthless father. And there is the support of his shameless, upstart maternal family who had schemed to power by selling off their daughters to leech over powerful aristocratic households."
"I knew long before that this wasn't that simple. Now, the Duke's case was appointed to me by the Minister of Law for investigation, since this is not my jurisdiction, I have the right to refuse. However, this should be a more complicated task to handle. I suppose the minister had received wind of the matter, therefore he pushed the case to me."
"Don't underestimate the court officials," Rionne reminds him. "They are all intelligent people; they can't hold into their position for long without a cautious brain and slippery attitude. He should have the awareness of the imperial police's spinelessness, not even an ounce of courage to offend a prince, so he chose you since you have the guts to oppose Felix. But as far as I know, he is not that passionate about upholding justice."
"What do you mean?" Ilayan asks.
"Normally, matters similar to these that might expose a noble household and a prince are deliberately ignored, treated like it never happened, and will only be properly investigated if the Emperor pursues or if the sin is heavy enough to cause public outrage. But right now, his Majesty had made no move and it can simply be simply overlooked. Yet, Minister Brein aims to take this course into court."
"I'm afraid that we are not on the same page, Rionne. My comprehension is too simple for this discussion. How come I've only realized the complexity of this world?"
Rionne's frown fades into a rare pure smile. "Is still there any need for you to worry?" he asks him. "You have my promise, and I'll repeat this for the last time so please do remember, I will be your consort soon, and you will be my husband. What else would I be meant to do than supporting you and ensuring the posterity of your household?"
"I see," Ilayan gazes at him, his mind no longer confused. He wanted to express words of gratitude to him, but, perhaps, it would be too perfunctory, considering their relationship. "Then, can you explain it to me in simpler terms?"
Rionne eyes him one more time as if measuring his temper. He suspects, perhaps, his words are most unlikely the possibilities he wanted to hear. However, he still waits for a few seconds after Rionne had carefully chosen his words.
"Nothing else, but… there should be a person behind the Minister of Law," he tells him. "We can never be certain about that person's aim, but most likely, it can only be that someone wanted to keep you distracted for the meantime, or perhaps, they wanted to attack the Duke of Keinfolk and the Fifth Prince by using you as their chess piece."
---End of Chapter---
—noir_alois—