Cassius ran a hand through his messy curls and stifled a yawn. He hadn’t been able to sleep much, mind buzzing with all that would unfold when his father returned. Somehow, four months didn’t seem very long.

Perhaps it was because he could the read minds of those who ruled, but he was never one to care about the affairs of other countries. He cared about the fate of citizens as a concept—he was obligated as a member of the Royal Family. Thankfully, he didn’t need an emotional investment to ensure that a war didn’t break out.

He absently spooned sugar into his tea cup, only stopping when the servants milling about seemed the most disturbed, positive only then that it was sweet enough to be palatable.

Adrian strode into the dining hall at the same moment that Cassius took his first drink and, consequently, caused him to choke on the sweet liquid. Cassius hadn’t really noticed how much Adrian had filled out in his time here, but the older boy’s new clothes showed him clearly.

He wore a burnt orange tunic under a partially opened striped button-down with a thick burgundy sash around his slim waist. The teal slacks were loose but fitted, and the dark chocolate loafers felt quiet in comparison to the rest of it all. Interestingly, the sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, but he wore a fitted black long-sleeved shirt that covered his arms to the wrist and peaked just under the collar of the tunic. His wrists were adorned with a few metal bracelets of varying colors and his throat was mostly shrouded by a rose pattered deep blue, thin-fabric scarf. His hair was done up in a messy bun as usual but with the addition of the beads from the craft store woven into the strands and braids that normally made up the style.

It was in this moment this that Cassius realized that he hadn’t actually paid attention to what Adrian had bought on their shopping trip. If he had, he would have told his retainer about how such colors and patterns were unorthodox in Mahalia and that they would look garish to nobles and commoners alike. He was glad now that he hadn’t known. While strange, it all worked effortlessly on Adrian. In fact, it worked to an almost disarming degree.

His bracelets jingled as he stretched, showing off the natural muscle of his arms though it didn’t seem to be on purpose. He seemed a bit self-conscious, likely from the servants gaping expressions. He hoped wasn’t sporting a similar look.

Any worry disappeared when he met Cassius’s eyes. He smirked, “You like?”

Cassius hadn’t realized how much a different style could change the way someone looked. It was especially evident in the thoughts floating around in the servants’ minds. Cassius shot up and ducked out of the dining room before they became too graphic for his taste.

“Hey wait up!” Adrian followed after him, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Hm?” He looked to Adrian and quickly dispelled the idea, “Oh, no. Everyone’s thoughts were going to places that I did not want to witness.”

He let out a nervous laugh and rubbed his arm, “Oh.”

“I suppose I cannot blame them. It was rather surprising. I mean… you were in a bad way when you first got here and now you look,” he looked Adrian over again, “...healthy.”

Adrian grinned, “Yeah, a diet of cheese and meat’ll do that to a person. It was all so rich that I thought I’d die.” He laughed, “And here I thought I’d finally get my prince to say that I was good looking. It’s one of the few things about myself that I hold to be self-evident.”

Cassius blinked. Adrian had never been so brazen about his looks. If anything, he seemed to cringe away from prying eyes. Perhaps it was because he had worn Cassius’s clothes until today? He didn’t know how to respond, and he was sure it showed in the way he stuttered, “If it is self-evident then why are my words needed?”

Adrian’s brows furrowed, seemingly confused that this needed an explanation, “Because I’m your retainer. Because this is the first time I’ve picked clothes out for myself. Because I’m in a foreign country trying to make sure I fit in with your standards.” There was unease in his voice as he said it all with a wave if a hand, “Take your pick.”

“Oh,” was all Cassius could manage. Even in the hall, the servants’ thoughts were loud and clear on their opinions on the outfit.

“Yeah,” Adrian leaned against the wall before re-righting himself, self-reprimand apparent in the way he glared at the wall, and waited for a proper response.

Cassius looked around. Servants were milling about, but he knew they were listening to their conversation keenly and, for once, it unsettled him. He had never needed privacy before to voice himself. Why did he think he needed it now?

“Your attire is acceptable for a retainer. In fact, it is very common for a retainer to wear clothing similar to that of their homeland. Neha, for example, wears a leather braided shawl,” he scrambled for other things to say when he realized Adrian seemed to be giving him a quizzical look, “Your clothes will stand out in Mahalia, but it will not be a problem…”

“And my taste…?” Adrian asked, it was clearly the question he was most interested in having answered.

Cassius felt his face heat up but spoke anyway, “I find it hard to believe this is the first time you have chosen your own clothes,” he wondered how red his face was, “You are... attractive in them.”

Adrian let out a loud whistle, “Wow that was stale,” he teased, “Come on, put some oomph into it. Everyone else seems to like what they see” He crowded the younger boy against a wall. A chance to tease Cassius was a rarity that he wouldn’t let pass by. He watched as the boy fumbled for words, pleased at the way his eyes darted from his own, to his close, the floor and back.

He looked to Adrian then his feet, ears burning, “You are... v-very good looking.”

Adrian’s smile came easy, and he felt warmed by the words. “Thank you, my Prince.” He watched the way Cassius’s eyes widen and his shoulders trembled. The warmth he’d felt turned to ice just as quickly. Had he gone too far? He had grown progressively more comfortable in the younger boy’s presence, but he still couldn’t understand where their boundaries were. "Sorry,” he stepped away, “I didn’t mean to take it too far.”

“Just please call me Cass,” he blurted, ducking his head. He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so unable to look him in the eye. In many ways, this was the first time he was truly seeing Adrian, maybe that was why...

Adrian shrugged, grateful it was only the name that that had bothered him, “No problem.”

“You two seem to be having fun,” Darrius’s voice was fruity, but, while his voice was welcoming, his face gave his annoyance away.

“You could say that,” Adrian responded amicably. He didn’t have the time nor the desire to deal with Darrius’s feelings. He watched the way the Second Prince’s eyes roved his body and wanted to recoil but stood firm.

Darrius nodded, “You’ve come quite the way indeed...”

“Did someone say something?” Cassius inquired; his composure restored.

His eyes didn’t leave Adrian’s body, seemingly yet to decide if he liked it or not, “Neha overheard a couple gossipy servants.” He smiled mischievously, “Apparently, a handsome man had the First Prince up against a wall. It was quite the site...”

Adrian smirked, “Even if that were true,” he cocked his head, “I bet the First Prince would be able to defend himself if need be.” He was in too good a mood to let Darrius get the better of him.

Cassius cut in before it could go further, “Speaking of defending one’s self, Adrian, with me.”

Darrius smiled sweetly, “Right, just so you know, we start your riding lessons tomorrow. Neha will help you starting next week, she wants to make preparations.” With that, he took his leave.

Adrian’s recovery hadn’t been apparent to himself until that morning when he picked through his new clothes. He’d gotten up later than usual without Cassius to wake him. Just as he was about to bathe there had been a knock at his door and five servants carrying all that he’d ordered weeks ago.

It was only after taking a bath that he took the curtain off his room mirror and actually looked at himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d purposefully looked at his reflection.

Unsurprisingly, he saw the scars first. Just looking at them made them feel fresh and raw again. He hadn’t realized there were so many. They roved his torso, arms, and legs in meandering paths and splotches, leaving him to wonder how he’d survived. It was what was past the scars that really took him by surprise. He couldn’t see, let alone feel, his ribs anymore. He had shape to his body that he’d never seen before.

“So, this is what I really look like,” he whispered to himself. If felt like a secret. Putting the words outside his body made him weak in the legs. He crumpled to the floor before the mirror in a mess of limbs, hugging himself painfully tight. He could feel panic settle in his gut like a stone and tried to ignore it.

It was then that he could feel the prince’s voice ringing in his head, “My name is Cassius. You are in Mahalia under my protection. You are not in danger. Breathe.”

And he did. In and out, in and out, in and out; he focused on Cassius’s even cadence, rocking back forth on the floor of his room until finally, finally, he found himself again.

He’d dressed carefully, fingers running over the richly woven fabrics appreciatively. It had been seven months. Cassius had gone out of his way to give him a room, a wardrobe, and a purpose beyond his capabilities. It was hard not to trust someone like him, so maybe he would stop trying not to. 

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Author's Note

Hi! I'm going to start posting character art, so feel free to check out my dash! As of this moment, I have a fluffy sketch of Adrian and Cass, and a fellow creator also drew how she see's Adrian according to the novel. I also want to post a mini strip every now and then of things that are canon and otherwise as well as a few comic pages (I'm making a comic of this if you all weren't aware). I'm shooting for a post a week, and this won't effect my Mon/Thurs posting schedule. 

Happy reading~