When Orion woke up, Culver was awake, still tucked into his side but looking like the weight of the world was upon his shoulders. He was absently tracing patterns with his forefinger just under Orion's collarbone, and the touch sent little shivers through every inch of Orion's body.

"Quite the liberty you're taking there." Orion trapped Culver's forefinger in his fist and playfully squeezed it. "Slept well?"

"Yes. Thank you for everything."

"It's alright. You would have done the same for me."

"How are you so sure?"

"It's the one thing I'm sure about."

Culver looked even more burdened by those words. "I...I'd definitely try," said he. "I don't know if I'd be able to make any difference. My track record isn't particularly encouraging."

"We'll see. Anyway, what were you doing out on the ice in the middle of a blizzard?"

"...I needed to blow off steam. I was going to stick to the shore, and because the lake is shielded I didn't realize how bad the storm had become. I got lost and ended up skating towards the lake's center."

"Don't pull something like this again, okay? The next time you lose your shit, you can...call me and slap me."

Culver smiled a little, even allowing himself a little chuckle. "Right," he said. "Cathartic."

"Right?" Orion got out of bed and stretched, trying to be more chipper than he felt, for Culver's sake. "How about lunch? I'm famished."

"You didn't eat last night?"

"I had some of that stuff you'd given me - raab, was it? Yeah? You had some too."

"I don't remember it."

"You were barely awake - you couldn't even eat by yourself. I fed you."

Orion's face shone with such childlike pride that Culver burst out laughing. "I'm proud of you!" He wheezed. "We've met all of thrice, and you've already got me in bed with you and spoon-fed me!"

"That's your bed, and you got me in it." With a theatrical flourish, he plopped onto the bed, wrapped both arms around Culver and pulled him into his lap. "A near-death experience is no good for seduction," he said, moving his hands to cup Culver's face. Word by word, he inched his face closer and closer until their noses touched and his lips were a hair's breadth from Culver's. "I prefer more subtle methods."

Culver smiled. Inclining his head, he exhaled, letting his breath wash over Orion's face. "Whatever those methods are...they're working."

"...Shouldn't your breath stink?"

*

King James couldn't stop staring at Orion, and Orion couldn't stop fidgeting.

"Dad." Embarrassed, Culver nudged his father under the table with his foot. "You're making him uncomfortable."

The elder Ermine jumped and blinked. "Oh! I'm sorry." He shook his head and raised his fork to his mouth, only to stop halfway. "It's just...that's quite an impressive hand print you have there."

Culver shot Orion a narrow-eyed glare. "He deserved it."

"I wonder if this counts as abuse," Orion muttered, too low for the King to hear.

"Fake or not, you don't destroy a moment like that!" Culver hissed back.

"Who wouldn't be surprised if you sleep for fifteen hours and wake up with your breath smelling like mouthwash?"

"Obviously because I woke up while you were asleep and dragged my ass to the bathroom! My mouth felt like sandpaper and tasted like a spoiled lemon."

"Hey! What're you two doing, taking advantage of this old man's bad hearing to whisper away?" the King interrupted. "No sitting next to each other from now on."

"Dad, you have the ears of an owl. You just want to be nosey."

"Well, that's all the entertainment I have these days! Being a King can get so boring, can't it, Orion?"

Orion jumped. "Me?"

"The only other Orion I know isn't around until after sunset."

Culver chucked at that response, drawing a combative glare from Orion. "I wouldn't know, Your Ma - erm, sir," he responded to the King's earlier question.

"My job's the darkness under the candle, boy. Under the glamour everyone sees is a job so dull I start counting my arm hair to entertain myself. It's a very important job, very important - but when you've been doing the same thing since the age of nineteen, you get tired of the repetition. Speaking of work - what do you do, my good fellow?"

Orion's spoon fell into his plate with a loud clatter. He turned white as a sheet though his face burned with intense compunction. Culver, whose eyes had snapped straight to Orion in alarm, opened his mouth to change the topic, but clenched his jaw shut at the last second. I shouldn't protect him, he thought. Unless he faces the consequences of his decisions, he won't succeed in getting clean.

"I...I work in a nightclub."

"No shame if you're earning an honest living, son," said the King. "So you're a bartender?"

Orion hung his head. "Janitor."

"Raise your head, boy. Look me in the eye and say it. In the eyes of God, Nature and every force that drives this world, a janitor is on the same level as a King."

It's what I've done to become a janitor that makes me lower my gaze, Orion thought. Still, the King's words struck a chord within him, and he summoned every bit of courage he had to look at the monarch. "I'm a janitor," he said quietly.

"That's better."

Orion was very silent after breakfast. Culver had little more than a general idea about the reason for his black mood, and in light of their bitter interactions so far, he was too scared to say anything to him. Silently, the two worked on the Lego car Culver had been assembling since before. It took them (with Culver working and Orion either brooding or bored to death) the entire morning to finish it, and it was at lunchtime that Culver crowed "Done!" and triumphantly held up the completed model.

"Congratulations," Orion yawned, stroking the socks in his hand like a cat. "I promote you from five-year-old to a five-year-old-with-skills."

A black piece came flying and hit him squarely on the nose. "Ow!" Orion yelped. "What the - a seat? Did you just pull apart that car just to throw a seat at me?"

"Ejector seats," Culver smirked, snatching the piece from Orion's hand and putting it back in. "You don't watch James Bond?"

"I do, but not so much as to blow money on a plastic replica of his car!"

"Blow money on a plastic replica," Culver mocked in a comical falsetto. "Lego and James Bond are two of my biggest passions in life. How could I ignore this glorious intersection of the two?"

"Well, you're a Prince. Why invest in this when you can afford the real deal?"

"I do own the real deal."

"What!" Orion shot upright. "You're kidding. Really?"

"Really." An idea popped into Culver's head and he inched forward, eyes sparkling like a child's. "Want to take her out for a spin?"

Orion looked conflicted. "But...you're supposed to be resting today."

Culver slouched, disappointed.

"...can I drive?"

*

No, Orion couldn't drive, and neither could Culver, for that matter. the King cornered them just as they were sneaking to the garage, shooed his son off to bed and insisted on showing Orion the winter garden on the rooftop. "This should do," he said. "Here, take a seat."

Orion sat, looking around curiously at the impressive collection inside the greenhouse. "Courtesy of my wife," the King said, and Orion managed to catch the expression of loathing he tried so hard to hide.

"It's impressive indeed," Orion said. "We have a small one at the Memo -" He caught himself just in time and he slouched, depressed. "Never mind."

King James didn't probe his words any further. "Tell me," said he, "did my boy tell you anything about why he was so upset?"

"No, sir, but I'm afraid I am part of the reason. We had fought recently, and I said things to him I never should have said."

"Was this a week ago?"

Orion sat up straighter, more alert. "Yes, sir," he responded.

"Oh dear. He did seem upset, and then I went and yelled at him too. Poor boy already has enough on his plate, and we..." the King sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Did we push him too far? He's never acted so recklessly before.

I can't let it happen again. He's the only child I have left, Orion. My only family. I cannot lose him."

Right, Culver used to have at least one sibling. What had happened to the royal family that had left Culver so deeply scarred? Losing a family member was traumatizing under any circumstances, but the little Orion knew of Culver's personality as well as Dr. Deo's story told him that something terrible had happened all those years ago.

"I'm not sure how I can help your son, sir," Orion said cautiously. "We're not that close, and -"

"Oh? Since when did this world become so noble that one will risk their life to save a mere acquaintance?"

Orion couldn't respond to that without revealing his drug habit. The King seemed to have convinced himself that his son and Orion were fast friends, and Orion didn't have the courage to correct him. It wasn't because the person in question was the country's ruler - it was because he was Culver's father, and Orion couldn't bear to see disappointment and anger in the eyes of the man who had treated him so warmly and accepted him so readily.

"Just listen," King James continued, oblivious of Orion's inner conflict. "I just want what happened twelve years ago to stop weighing on him. He can't even sleep at night, and it kills me on the inside to see him suffer like that. I want you to help me take care of him. My duties keep me from seeing him for days on end, but you can meet him more frequently. Help him heal."

Heal from what? Orion wondered. I can't bring his family back, and if I express sympathy, Culver is bound to ask me why I'm being soft. What do I say then?

The King noticed Orion's questioning expression and frowned. "You don't know what happened?" he asked.

Orion shook his head. "I'm from Riska. It's a village in the mountains of Astor. I came here six years ago."

"I'm still surprised you don't know. It was a very public affair, and the arrangements on the anniversary of the day make sure I will remember what happened even in my next life."

"Then it must happen around this time. I'm usually so busy preparing for the Christmas - never mind." Orion slumped again.

Again the King chose to ignore it. "Hmmm, it makes a little sense. The weather's so bad at this time of year that anything that has to be done is organized indoors, and if you aren't one to attend public events or watch TV, you might miss it."

"I was aware that the atmosphere becomes oddly sombre for Christmas season, but I never thought much of it."

"Let me fill you in, then. You see, I have -"

Orion straightened up suddenly. "Excuse my interruption, sir," he said, "But Culver hasn't told me anything himself, so I really shouldn't be listening to this now."

"Bosh! You're more likely to get into our gold reserve than you are to get him to divulge his secrets." The King shifted in his chair, clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, steeling himself to talk about his most agonizing experiences. "I had four children. My eldest was Caolan, then were my girls Cecilia and Cedulie, and Culver is my youngest. Caolan was heir to the throne, obviously, very popular - Culver here does such a good job and even he hasn't filled his brother's shoes. I think I had rose-tinted glasses on, or I would have spotted trouble brewing before things took such a drastic turn."

Orion could feel the foreboding of impending tragedy and gulped.

"My eldest daughter Cecilia, she -" the King's voice broke and his eyes filled with tears. "She killed her brother for the throne, and my wife helped her. His own mother..." It took a minute for King James to compose himself enough to keep speaking. "The press found out, and this personal nightmare turned into a media sensation. Cedulie was terrified by it all and ran away."

A shocked silence followed. Orion looked deeply disturbed, his eyes wide, forehead wrinkled and Adam's apple bobbing as he kept swallowing convulsively. "That's all public knowledge", King James continued. "So don't worry about having invaded Culver's privacy. The inside details he will tell you in his own time. The duties of the Crown Prince fell upon him, and he used it as an excuse to bottle up his grief. He's never mourned properly, Orion. Sometimes their names slip out of his mouth so casually, I suspect he he's buried his pain so deep he doesn't feel it at all."

"I'm sorry, sir," Orion said. "That's a terrible blow to suffer. One I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy."

"It's the curse of being in a position of such power. Son, I want you to get my Culver to grieve. Get him to admit that it happened. Get him angry. Get him to barge into my room and fight with me." Beseechingly, the old man took Orion's shaking hands in his own. "Get him to cry, and when he does, give him a shoulder to cry on."

"I..." Orion choked back tears of his own. "How?"

"I don't know. I'm asking you because I see how open he is around you. I really shouldn't ask more of you when you've saved his life -"

"No, no," Orion shook his head, squeezing the King's hands comfortingly. "It's not like that -"

"Consider it a request from this selfish and desperate old man. I'm begging you. Please, help my son."