A brown blot on a carpet of snow. That is what Joseph's shack looked like on that night. Inside the house, the light from three candles danced quickly like fire elementals, painting the worn out wood and the peeling plaster in red and orange.

After lighting a fire, that by the way was also his oven, he took a chair and sat next to the prince where he lay sleeping in bed. Joseph's bed.

It seems too small for him... Actually, it seems too small even for me, but it's the best I can offer right now.

The prince's surgery had gone quickly. In the end, he hadn’t been shot with a bullet, but with a dart - a poisoned one. The substance was mainly opium, however; they wanted to capture him alive.

The young doctor gathered his instruments and, after washing them carefully, put everything in a chest above his apothecary cabinet. Looking into a small mirror hanging on the wall, he noticed an ugly bruise under his left eye taking shape where the guard had slapped him.

This shit is going to hurt so much by morning... Thankfully, I have a few days before classes return.

He looked down at his hands, all covered in bandages. He waited a few moments, gathering courage.

Holding back a cry, he pulled off the bandages, slowly at first, then as quickly as he could.

What was under the layers of fabric was a spectacle of haematomas and cuts. His hands were dark like they were gangrenous, with some spots still bleeding.

The pain was unbearable, especially whenever he had to do anything strenuous, which was the case that night. After them getting slapped by the prince, and having to hold a bottle, carry the prince, struggle against that guard, and perform a surgery, they were extremely irritated.

Joseph retrieved an ointment that he had made himself with camphor and rosemary, and massaged his hands with a grimace and a repressed moan of pain.

He blew on them a bit, sitting again by the prince's bedside. It was around 11:30 p.m. The window close to the bed was somewhat large and his shack was on a hill, so he could see the fireworks at the Magistrate's home.

"W-Where am...I?" The prince suddenly awoke.

"We're at my home, my prince. It's not the most beautiful house around, but you’re safe now."

Joseph said this because the boy’s eyes were already inspecting every corner of the hovel. He looked down at his own body, noticing he was naked under the blankets. He tried to sit, but his face twisted in agony.

"Ugh... Ah..."

"Please stay still. I'll help you."

Joseph arranged the pillows so that he could sit up halfway. The prince didn't take his eyes off of Joseph for even a second.

The doctor pretended not to notice, but the prince didn't seem to care if he was being a bit too...unsubtle. His eyes swept over every bit of Joseph's figure, looking for God knows what.

He’s just confused and suspicious because of everything that happened tonight, I'm sure.

Joseph noticed the prince’s eyes widen, fixed on a certain part of his body: his hands.

The boy swallowed, trying to hide them under his armpits and staring at the ground.

"It's... It's n-not c-contagious. Just some...bruises. You have my word."

The prince kept ogling him and frowning.

"How did you manage to escape with me?"

Joseph blushed and raised his head, his eyes wide. The dark-haired boy wouldn't take those amber eyes off of him, demanding an explanation, a worthy one. Even though he was a gravely injured patient, he was clearly the dominant presence in the room.

Joseph stared out the window, shoving his hands under his arms with such an urgency that they hurt.

"W-Well... it was... n-not really a b-big deal... I... I... j-just... t-tricked them... and called f-for help."

By the end of his explanation, Joseph's stuttering was so strong that he almost lost his voice. He found himself shaking. He stared at the ground.

I'm a pathetic excuse of a man... Just like that guard said.

He still could feel the prince's eyes on him.

"Raise your head."

"Eh...?"

"Now."

Joseph swallowed, doing as he was told. His eyes found the prince's face, but he was looking out the window.

There was a rumble...but now, it was a gentle, distant one.

The fireworks had started. It was midnight.

Numerous lights splashed across the sky. Red, gold, lavender, turquoise... They gave a cheerful, colorful hue to the snow, and to the interior of Joseph's home.

The prince was staring, mesmerised by the lights.

"What's your name, Doctor?

"J-Joseph... Joseph Lee Selden."

The prince turned towards him, looking straight into his eyes.

"Never underestimate yourself again. Whatever you did tonight...you saved me."

The young doctor swallowed, agonizingly unsure of where he should rest his eyes.

"You're starting the new year as a hero, Doctor!"

Joseph went pale.

During his life, he had been called many names. Molly, Emasculate, Effeminate, Chicken, Pussy... Shame of the Family... Sodomite.

Tonight, however, someone had called him a hero.

A prince had called him a hero...

The doctor felt a heaviness in his chest and his eyes began to water. His mouth was dry, with a strange, bitter taste. His hands, now resting on his thighs, trembled.

I didn't do anything. I just went there and...tried to do something... I don't even know why.

"Thank you so much." The prince was smiling that same calm smile from when the guards had begun to take him away.

That was the last straw. The doctor stood up in a rush, turning his back to the other boy and rushing into the kitchen.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, Your Highness. I'm sorry, I... I... I'll j-just get something for you to eat."

His voice faltered, but he couldn't show the prince the tears running down his face. He wouldn't be a hero anymore if he did.

When he reached the kitchen, he sat in a dark corner, close to the pantry. With his legs pressed against his chest and his chin resting on his knees, he let it all out.

Sobbing, his face became soaked with tears. His whole body was trembling.

That was the first time someone had ever genuinely congratulated him in his 17 years of life.

For the first time, he wasn't the puny boy living in an abandoned shack because he couldn't stay in the college lodging...

Nor was he the rookie doctor, accepting anything as payment to cover his tuition…

And he especially wasn't the molly son of the Seldens...

That night, he was a hero.

That night...someone had treated him as an equal.

Joseph giggled, cleaning his face with his hands. The pain from the bruises was now irrelevant compared to the fireworks going off inside his heart.

I'm so pitiful. Jesus Christ!

He stood up quickly, now with a smile.

He went to his pantry. All he had were some apples and a piece of cheese. Even so, he felt like the wealthiest man in the town of St. Luke tonight.

The prince was still staring out the window when Joseph approached him and sat back down, carrying a plate full of sliced apples and cheese.

"Are you alright now?" the prince asked with a lopsided smile, eyes glued on Joseph.

"Ha... I'm t-the one who should be asking you that, Your Highness."

The prince kept staring at him. He was still pale, but his skin tone was closer to that warm caramel one from when they met at the tavern. The dark circles under his eyes were lighter, too. He leaned back against the pillows, chest bare.

He had a broad, muscular, well-formed chest.

Joseph shook his head vehemently, trying to get the image out of his head. His face was burning.

For God's sake, you imbecile! Be respectful! He's your patient!

"Here, Your Highness... It's not much... I'll go to the village in the morning to try to g-get something else for breakfast."

The prince remained silent for a moment, still just staring at him. Then he grabbed some apple slices. His face turned serious.

"Where are you from? Neither your name, nor your appearance seem German or Czech."

"I'm English, Your Highness."

The prince frowned, inspecting him from head to toe. Joseph felt that cold sensation in his chest again.

"Do you live in this house? By yourself?"

"Yes, my prince."

"Why are you here, Englishman?"

Joseph swallowed. He opened his mouth, but there were no words, no excuses to hide the real reason.

"I see this question makes you uncomfortable. I apologise. You don't have to answer it."

The doctor nodded in silence, thankful.

The fireworks were done. Save for the faint sound of music and the chirping of the birds who had been awakened by the noise, the night was quiet again.

They ate in silence, but Joseph could feel the prince's eyes on him the whole time.

I don't understand why he keeps staring at me. It's disturbing... Is he wary of me? Is he angry because I'm a stranger? Is there something wrong with my clothes?

"You are very beautiful, Doctor."

“COUGH! COUGH! COUGH!”

Joseph began to cough loudly, spitting out a piece of apple after nearly choking on it. His throat was dry. His stomach felt like it was full of butterflies, all flapping around. His head felt like it had caught fire, and he knew he was as red as the burning wood in the fireplace right now.

What the hell was that?

The prince was serious, his face completely still as he stared at Joseph.

And just like that, he sunk deeper into the pillows with an arm behind his head, exposing his chest and one of his legs. He looked up at the beams across the ceiling, his eyes heavy.

"Thank you for the food, Doctor. I'm tired. May I borrow your bed for tonight?"

"Of c-course," Joseph answered, still coughing. "Let me...*cough* get you some more blankets."

What did he mean when he said "borrow" in such a way?

Before Joseph could even finish covering him, the prince had already fallen asleep. Since there was only one bed in the house, Joseph hung a hammock for himself close to the bed. His face was still burning red, he knew it.

No, I'm just being stupid...again...