“I received your letters, Sir Mercutio. But as I’m no longer affiliated with your renowned menage, it was well within my rights to pass it on to the correct personage. What do I have to offer to the Ministry of Defense, anyhow? I’m just a dirty, uneducated commoner,” Xolani matched his haughtiness with their polished cheek, but however much they tried to suppress it, Jevon could feel the tremor of their body against his— and he wondered if he was roped into this purely because Xolani tactically foresaw this encounter: that Jevon was to act as their mortar and boulder if necessary. Jevon personally wished that it was possible to write up a restraining order against an archduke.

 “Anyway, haven’t you drawn on this little charade of yours long enough? I severed my ties with House Alexis many years ago. Sure, I’m officially considered your heir presumptive still… but I’m sure I made my point abundantly clear: I’m not going to bend myself sideways to indulge your petty fantasies any longer. You need to move on already, Mercutio. Smell the roses. Tell someone they’re wanted. Get a niche little hobby. Or better yet, fuck off and leave me alone already.”  

“I will not tell you twice,” Jevon noticed Xolani’s eye dilate with fear as their former liege launched out to retrieve them, but Jevon swiftly intervened and crowded them back behind his back as he glared the other man down like a guard dog on duty. Mercutio clicked his tongue like a spoiled teen and strategically retreated as he tucked himself back in the safe fluff of his cape. 

“You will return with me to Avirin whether you wish for it or not, Benvolio. If you think that I will sit by and allow you to make a mockery of yourself and everything our bloodline stands for, then it seems like I will have to beat the notion into your stubborn head one way or another. How foolish,” he idly rested the heel of a large palm against the pommel of the greatsword sheathed at his hipline as his dark, imperious stare flicked between his rejected scion and their contracted bodyguard. 

“... Ducking behind another man for protection is the very pinnacle of weakness. And you were to become a soldier like no other: sword-hand to the future king like I was before and savior of our house... and now you insist on lowering yourself to the likes of some... degenerate trash.”  

“Watch your mouth, Mercutio,” Jevon hissed as he kindly dropped any such formality from his dialogue. The man was lower than the scum underneath his sole, let alone his superior. “You can act all you like that I’m not here, but I can promise you right now that I do not intend to stay my tongue if you intend on harassing them any further, my position be damned. Or would you prefer it if I took this up with the king personally? I’ve been meaning to treat him for some time now: we can make your insubordination the highlight of our discussion.” 

“You are an outsider, Fulbright. Do not involve yourself with the affairs of my family. Better yet, why don’t you refrain from interacting with Benvolio outright? I’ve no doubt that your debauched lifestyle is the reason why my son was led astray in the first place,” a white-hot flare of rage ignited in his belly as undisguised hate seeped past his calm front. “I’ve warned him about fraternizing with the likes of you... and failing to heed my warning has resulted in this disreputable attitude. But attitudes can be easily remedied with a firm hand. Now, leave so that I may speak with him without the unneeded audience.”  

“Say that shit about him again and we may have patricide on our hands, Father,” self-preservation notwithstanding, stubborn anger erupted in a windstorm of verbal lacerations as Xolani marched out to fearlessly confront the eye of the storm.

 “Harass and deride me all you wish, but I swear I will tear that weathered, balding scalp of yours off your damned shoulders if I hear the merest whisper of his name fall from your degenerate lips again. And besides, I’ve told you before: honor, family, chivalry... if that’s what you deign to call the hell you subject your subordinates to, anyway, I want nothing to do with it,” they folded their arms and puffed out their posture in an effort to shorten that chasmic gap. “All that inane bullshit means as much to me as scrap on the roadside. I’m sick and tired of you projecting all your petty little insecurities onto me just because you’re envious that I and I alone have managed to free myself from this cycle of blind obedience. Can you get it through your thick skull already that I would rejoice if all the Alexis Dukedom abruptly caught aflame?”  

Mercutio’s hand twitched at the scathing vivisection. Xolani let their lips fall upward in arrogant triumph. “And besides, I wouldn’t be of much use to you any longer, I’m afraid. Of course, I’m not interested in swordplay, or wordplay, or fraternizing with crusty old men and drinking cheap wine over cheaper statecraft. But as a footnote, I’ve already kickstarted my own little career in the background and it is thriving, I'm telling you. Why, my dear subordinates would mourn the day they lost their impeccable leader— there has never been more order amongst our depraved little bunch before I swooped in and evened out their tempers. And I sacrificed much to get to where I am today— do you think I’d trade it all away just so I can stroke daddy’s ego? Besides, I know you’re immediately going to pawn me off to the next poor unwilling suitor should I ever dare to step through those doors again— but I’m afraid this body, too, is no longer… viable in regards to, ah— entertaining the option of selling it away for political points.” 

Xolani suddenly swirled around and wrapped their arms around his own python-tight. The fury within Jevon quelled in an instant as he cast his companion a confused look. “Why else would I have had the idea of coming to one of these asinine galas than to brag about my dazzling fiancé?”  

Huh.  

Speechlessly, Mercutio glanced between said fiancé and his former scion as if he had been beholden to the secrets of the cosmos. “You cannot be serious, Benvolio,” a so-called fellow man— is what the incredulous disgust on his face openly articulated. He performed some form of meditation by flexing and unflexing his hands. “You were devoted to your studies. I kept you in line— and because of this—” He shared a look of equivalent befuddlement with Jevon. “Interloper... do you intend to dishonor us all, Benvolio?”  

“Pretty sure I dishonored you way back when I picked out my first skirt. Ah, but with a truly woeful heart, I’m afraid you’ll have to forego your plans to wed me off. I simply cannot exist in a world without my dearest Jevon in it, you see? I’m not a cheater, gods forbid. And he’s my soulmate,” a skip of fingers darted up across his chest before sweetly giving the tender spot betwixt his brows a playful flick. “Isn’t that right, honeybun? Tell Daddy dearest how you valiantly whisked me off my feet like a knight in shining armor!”  

Ah, so this was their game. Honestly, he would have played along if Xolani had foregone the deceptions to swindle him out this way, and it certainly would have been nice if he had a script to memorize in advance. Silence may be preferable for now, given that he was unsure how far Xolani wanted to take this little gag— so he awkwardly laced his arm around their lithe shoulder to play with strings of dark hair while keeping his chin high; it would be best if the opposing party did not smell the hesitation on him. 

“If this is some practical joke,” boomed the knight; the leather of his gloves squelched as his hands tightened into a pair of tight fists. “Then I will take care to inform you that I am not particularly humored. You are above this, Benvolio!”  

“I’d never lie about true love, dear ol’ Mercutio. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” A flutter of their eyelashes and a subtle nudge to his shin kicked Jevon to action, scriptless or otherwise, he considered himself semi-adept at improv and cleared the nervousness from his throat, posture straightening. 

“Indeed. Since the moment they first graced my line of vision, I have been devastatingly enamored. These last few years have been... trying, but they have been an irreplaceable crutch for me throughout it all— through hell and high water… I certainly would have drowned in my own self-pity had they not stubbornly broken down my reinforced walls and forced me back out into the sunlight again... and I mean that in only the most thankful of ways. Now, I have a preference for men, of course: but they are an exception like no other. The way that the world seems to pause to rejoice in the light of their laughter... or how their dark hair is perfectly encapsulated by the moonshine... and their sweet tenor like birdsong whispers only the most encouraging tunes… a beacon for the crucible of my constant struggle, guiding me with a firm but nurturing hand... Why, how could one blame me for falling prey to their wiles? They are beautiful inwardly and outwardly.” 

He gave their shoulder an affirmative squeeze— and of course, this was all the truth, if not a bit embroidered with a dash of a more romantic aftertaste, but it was also a sneaky excuse to pamper them with overdue appreciation, given that they have given him more than he honestly deserved. “Simply put, I cannot imagine my future without them at my side.” 

“Ah,” Xolani squeaked unprofessionally as a rose-red tint shaded their cheeks. Jevon peeked over at them obliviously as they placed their hand up as a makeshift screen to hide the swell of embarrassment. “I... I see... you always have such a way with words, my little sonnet... you’re going to turn my legs to jelly at this rate!’ 

“I’ll carry you, then. It is the least I can do for a princess.”  

A sharper kick to his poor kneecap and Jevon repressed a mix between a yelp and a chortle. All right, he shouldn’t tease too much. In the background, he could have sworn that Mercutio was replaced with a very angry turnip with the hue his face took as he watched them toss flirtations back and forth like candy. Jevon bit down a smirk and bowed his head in faux respect. “I’ll admit that I can get a bit carried away at times, but I hope you acknowledge that my feelings for Xolani cannot so easily be dismissed. I can assure you that any attempt to pry them with me would be met with... less than pretty consequences. I am admittedly possessive with what I love.”  

“Yes, yes. Like a dragon hoarding his treasure. Heavens forbid, Jevon, that’s too much,” Jevon snickered as a very abashed Xolani shoved his cheek away when he leaned in to deposit a kiss, or at least give the impression of one. “I think he gets the idea. Any more of this and he might just implode on the spot! Gosh, poor Mercutio. Shall we tell him how you proposed to me next?” 

“Why, it was next to the seaside, of course. You were in your lace gown with the evening sun fanning your splendid features… it was a little over a month ago— you chased me to the docks before I left for the East and between our heartfelt goodbyes, the moment felt precise. So, I dropped onto one knee and presumably, you can fill in the rest. I swear, I was about to cancel my trip outright— I could scarcely keep my hands to myself after they gave me their answer...”  

“A winter wedding, right?” Xolani chipped in as they lazily traced their fingernail in a circle where his heart would lay. 

“Of course. You look beautiful in white, my dearest. With the falling snow accentuating the train of your gown, I’m certain you would compete with the gods in their splendor.”