When I saw the pain in your eyes, the pain that I caused, I knew I would hate myself for the rest of my life. 

His hair was gold. His eyes, gold. His body, gold. Gold. I wanted to touch it- him.

I wanted to protect him; he is too precious to be soiled by the world around him.

I wanted to see his power. The magic streamed out of him as if it were a river, flowing through life uninterrupted. I've never felt anything like it. It crept through my skin and leached onto my soul. Dangerous. He was so very dangerous for so many reasons.

I carried him to safety, but I had to leave. I sometimes forget that I am a king. Perhaps I do it on purpose. I didn't ask for this. It was forced onto me, and every day I drown in the realization that I am responsible for an entire nation.

When I return, he's barely alive. I picked him up again, at first, just to feel him. I watch him come back alive. He eats ravenously. I wonder if that is how he ate when he wasn't starving. It wouldn't surprise me. He has this lack of sophistication that is intoxicating. He, as a being, is intoxicating.

He needs to bathe. Though, his sweat smells of beautiful hardship. I think about what it would be like to lick his sweat off of him. Then, because my body betrays me, I leave. I tell Tommen to get him more food and drink and also to run him a bath. 

When I return, he is clean. Like sparkling, polished gold. He lays in bed, an angel of life and, most possibly, death. When he sees me, he immediately gets out of bed. When he stands, he is wearing my shirt. My shirt. I had not realized that the servants would take my clothes. I would call them out on it later. But this boy was wearing my shirt. It fits him poorly. He is smaller than me. It has begun to drape off his shoulder ever so slightly. I wish it would fall. I curse my own thoughts. He catches me staring. I look away. 

I try to erase the image of the look in his eyes when I said...what I said right before the attack. I was angry. I was angry that he let himself get hurt. I was angry that he was hurt. I was angry that they hurt him. I was angry that I wasn't there on time. I was angry...I was angry at myself, and I took it out on him. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for that. 

He has this spark. That spark. I envy it. It's so raw and powerful. I am powerful. I know that. Everyone goddamn knows it. Raulyn of Linove, the last of his line, the most powerful man in Cronad. It gives me no joy to possess such power. That why I envy his spark. It's not the spark of energy, no, it's of passion. I have no passion. I have no love for my kingdom and no love for this world. I serve as king because it is what is expected of me.

He asks me why I am inconsistent. One minute I act like a king and the next a schoolboy. I know why. I don't tell him that. I want to. I want to tell him everything I knew. Everything I felt. Everything.

He will arrive, golden, sparkling in the light of the fire of war. His power will be untainted. He will bring out truth in the souls. He will turn the world upside down. He is Aurum, the son of the god of light and truth…

It was a famous prophecy that not many people paid much attention to. Linovians were skeptical, non-religious. But something about it always stirred something within me. For my tenth birthday, I was given the original scroll with the prophecy written on it. On it, the words were inky and distressed. Below there was a drawing of a boy, beautiful and young. My grandfather told me that this was Aurum, that this would be Aurum. Hovering over the parchment, I traced the lines of his face. I was so young then, but I knew that these words, this prophecy was true. But as I grew up and the world became dark and evil, I lost faith in it. I became evil myself. The things I’ve done- the things I’ve let happen. Five years after I was given the prophecy, I became king. I wasn’t meant to be crowned at such a young age, but Linove was given no choice. The royal family had perished within hours. Plague, poison, murder, unclear. Everyone just died. Ten years later, now, I am king of the worst place. 

But then, after almost giving up hope, Wichata runs in and restores my obsession. And as those Kayon bitches herded in, hidden among the ugliness was beauty. My breath caught when I saw him. He was just as the picture, but now I could see the gold. It was striking. When he spoke, tears threatened to escape, his voice was smooth and eager. I nearly forgot myself. I almost fell to my knees. So, I acted in reverse. I treated him unkindly. I was as I had been for the last fifteen years. And then I saw his wounds. Bloodied and bruised, I had been so distracted by this whimsical fantasy that I didn’t realize he was falling apart. His right chest has a carved sun on it. I was going to vomit. I knew what that meant. Fucking Kayons. And then he fell into my arms, and I thought I was going to lose him before I even had him. 

Then as I rallied the guards to fight the Kayon attackers, I couldn’t stop thinking about the power he emitted. It was not just any power. Divine power. Divine. He was the son of a god, that was clear as day. But he was human, also clear as day. It hurt my head. It hurt my heart—soul.

The fight didn't last long, and that was my fault. I was too impatient to get back to Auriel that I violated the rules I had set for myself: no magic unless absolutely needed.

It's not about magic in general. Of course we use magic to fight- it's why we are the most powerful kingdom of Cronad. The problem wasn't magic; it was me. I had too much. It was too destructive-- too deadly. So when fighting, I don't use it. It just doesn't feel right.

But I was beyond mad at Kayon. I wanted to end them all. And more importantly, I wanted to return to the golden boy. So I closed my eyes and thought about every Kayon fighter killing themselves, and just like that, they do.

I think about how difficult it is to lie to him. Not because of any moral contention, but the fact that it is physically hard to lie to him. It's nothing like I've ever felt before. I physically want to tell him the truth, everything. I want to tell him that he is not who he thinks he is; he is so much more. I want to tell him that the world depends on him. I want to tell him that the war is far from over and Finlur was still in existence, that they hadn't lost. I want to tell him about the prophecy. I want to tell him that my heart aches when I look at him as if I've known him my entire existence. 

But then I remember how much it would hurt him to know the truth when he isn't ready for it. And then it feels like I'm not lying. I make it the truth. I want to protect him, and that was the only truth his power needs to feed on.

I had left him for too long. It has only been a few hours, but I don't trust his safety but had to attend to some urgent post-battle issues.

But now I am on my way to return to him. The thought makes me feel strange inside- an unexplainable joy drips through me. I stop at the kitchens on the way there because I worry that he may still be hungry. When I enter, the servants fall to their knees. I nod at them, permitting them to rise.

"I need a plate of the dinner from tonight." I direct this to Sherine, the head of the kitchen. She nods compliantly and motions to her girls to prepare it.

"Your majesty, did you not get enough during dinner?" It's not an accusatory question; rather, she genuinely wants to know if the servants hadn't given me enough food.

"No. It is not for me. Don't worry." I see a servant girl look up and snarl in my direction. Her face reddens, realizing I had seen, and she falls to her knees.

"Your majesty, this humble servant has offended you. I have not meant anything by it." She was a beautiful girl, young but already matured.

"No, you did. What is your distaste?" She plays with her thumbs, and then, in a quiet voice, she says, "The boy. He is Finlurian. He is not deserving of-" rage floods my vision, and I try to hide it – "the things the king is providing him."

Sherine looks as if she is going to kill the girl. I empathize.

"What is your name?"

"Darcy, your majesty."

"And so, Darcy, what would you have me do with him?" I am too transparent. I try to suppress my emotions once more.

"Kill him." Her words are venom on her tongue. Before I can reply, Sherine hands me a plate of food.

"Darcy, hatred is poisonous. You do not know him- just where he is from. Do not act out of line again."

As I leave, I hear Darcy get slapped by the head of the kitchen with a warning never to speak out of term again. I smirk. Good.

When I think of Auriel sitting in a room alone and unprotected, I quicken my pace. I am still a long walk to the guest rooms. I am about to turn the corner when I hear two guards talking.

"Haldon, that was very dumb."

"I couldn't help it!"

"You shit, learn to conceal your emotions. You're a guard of the king. You cannot be so reckless with your feelings."

"You're the one who was talking to him!"

"Yes. To get the upper hand. Boys like him are dangerous."

I hold my breath. I immediately know who they are talking about. Haldon and Torine were the first shift to guard Auriel’s door. It was not proper of me, but I continue to eavesdrop.

"You don't know that."

"You don't have a face like that, a body like that, and not be dangerous. I'm old, Hal, I've seen it all. Even the ones who prefer women cannot resist that kind of thing."

"That doesn't make sense."

"He's prettier than most woman. So, what if he has a cock? It's all the same when you've got a tight-"

I round the corner. Their faces are priceless and I think that I will picture them when I need a laugh. I pretend as if I didn't hear anything. 

"How is the prisoner?" I try not to sound too curious. They bow, and Torine speaks.

"Fine, your majesty. He took a second bath. That servant, what's her name…ah yes, Darcy, the one with the water magic, attended him." Oh, little fawn, what did you do to her? I try not to smirk at the thought of him frustrating her- everyone. 

"Did she bring him sleeping clothes?" 

Haldon shakes his head and blushes. Interesting. Either he was wearing my clothes, or he was naked. The images that play in my mind are wildly indecent.

"Your majesty, the servant boy, has already brought him dinner." Torine says this while pointing at the plate of food in my hands. 

"Yes, I know."

"Then-"

"I would refrain from speaking about the boy like that. It is-" I give him a once over "-unbecoming." 

Torine's face reddens and Haldon's eyes widen. I'm about to continue when I hear muffled yells. Instinctively, I hand the food to one of the guards and run towards the guest rooms.

For a moment, while I'm running in panic, I think about what it means. What does it mean that I would drop everything and run to a boy I don't really know and who doesn't know me? What does it mean that when I thought he could possibly be in trouble, I felt as though I had been shot by an arrow? I don't know what any of this means. But it feels irrationally natural. Soulmate...

 But I run and find that the two guards that were supposed to be on guard are fast asleep. As I suspected, the muted screams are coming from his room, so I barge in. And then nothing- nothing in my entire life could have prepared me for this moment.