Frederich borrowed a private study to panic and plan his lessons immediately after his hearing. News must’ve traveled fast, because it took Radhildur less than a quarter-wick of a candle to kick the door in. The doors smashed against the walls, sending the array of items from the tabletop to the floor. 

He was unsurprised at their arrival, and had honestly expected them sooner.

In a flurry of papers and books strewn off the table, Radhildur marched around the desk Frederich was studying at before they yanked him up by the collar to face them. The door to the study slammed shut, sealing him to his fate. 

He let them do as they will. It was better to meet his end by someone favorable like Radhildur, rather than the king. It was a small relief to see them in their familiar navy and red velvet dress. And while the veil covering their mouth was still the heavy velvet as when he saw them in the alcove, Radhildur at least looked more like themself. Tith their wild hair mussed terribly, and not pulled back by ribbons; they countenance bold and sturdy. What a sight to die with.

“What have you done?!” Radhildur snarled, their gold gaze bright and furious.

Frederich floundered to say anything, but found the words had died in his throat. He really didn't have an answer. He thought he'd been helping but instead he had trapped them both against a wall.

“The King is ruthless, he does not care about his subjects. He only cares about this kingdom in the sense of how much he can own,” Radhildur snapped angrily. “And you are not even a drop of water in the pool he cares about. He will exile you if you fail your task, Frederich! What the hell were you thinking? A wager, are you serious?”

“I was trying to help,” Frederich finally bit back. “Yes this was not the outcome I foresaw, but I don't need you to berate me. I haven't seen you in months and when I do, finally, you’ve been mistreated far worse than you have before. Am I supposed to just sit there and let it happen?”

“Yes!” Radhildur pulled him in close and stared down their nose at him. “Because it's not your problem.”

Frederich was distinctly aware that his feet were not touching the floor and his heart skipped a beat as Radhildur brought them nose-to-nose. Still his eyes narrowed. Not his problem? He ground out,“You've made it my problem.”

“It's my fault?” Radhildur scoffed in disbelief.

“You waltzed your way into my life, you forced me to help you, you showed me that you can be funny and stuck up and practically insufferable,” Frederich shouted. “And now I care so much about you that I'd stake my citizenship on you!”

His chest heaved and his breath was heavy. Radhildur's expression tensed along with the rest of their body, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Slowly, Radhilldur's shoulders sagged and their grip on Frederich's cloak loosened. They turned a bit to set Frederich down, in front of the table—they caged him between their arms and rested their forehead on his shoulder.

Frederich nearly stopped breathing. 

The coarse strands of Radhildur's hair tickled along his jaw, and he was distinctly aware of the firmness that was Radhildur's body pressing against him. He leaned back against the table, his spine bumping against the edge as he put some distance between them. Staring up at the ceiling he tried to curb his thoughts—the two of them were fighting afterall, now was not the time.

“I can't protect you this time, little Scholar,” Radhildur said weakly, finally breaking the silence. “I refuse to marry whoever the King sets up for me. I refuse to let my body be a pawn. He had my six other siblings to do that.”

That was sobering enough, Frederich supposed. “I don't intend to prepare you for marriage, Radhildur. I admit I'm too selfish for that.”

The tension broke with a half-hearted snort from the heir. “What? Trying to keep me for yourself?”

This, Frederich decided, was dangerous territory; and he instead changed the subject. “We'll figure out a way to get you out. That was the first thought I had when wagering with the King—that even if I agreed, there was no way I’d help imprison you in a life you didn’t want.”

Radhildur braced their chin on the dip of his neck and stared up at him. Frederich couldn't help but softly  smile down at them. They frowned at his response, their lips pursing into a thin line.

“But your job and your family, everything is here,” Radhildur protested. 

Frederich shrugged and huffed lightly. “I can find work anywhere… as a Scholar, an accountant, a banker, an archivist. There are options open to me. I hear Lauf is nice this time of year.”

“Your family though—” Radhildur pressed. 

“My family and I are…not on the best terms right now,” Frederich interrupted them. “And while I love them, I'd hoped I'd be able to leave at some point. Once I had set them up enough and provided myself the means to be stable on my own. It's always been my plan to leave my home to my sister, Bea.”

“You can't abandon everything, Frederich.” Radhildur’s lips further downturned. 

“Isn't it a vassal's duty to pledge themselves to their liege?” Frederich joked, a certain fondness swelling as Radhildur's eyes darkened. “Don't get angry, Rathi. I'm doing this because I want to. Because in all the days that I’ve had myself drawn to you, I find that I cannot sit idle when you are in trouble. You constantly place your life on the line to save others, because you actually care about the people of this kingdom. I think you can allow someone to save you too.”

“I don't need saving, I'm perfectly fine alone.”

“You don't have to be alone,” Frederich murmured. “You have to know you won't be alone anymore.”

Radhildur's gaze searched him. “You really mean that.”

“Of course I do,” Frederich said firmly. “I wouldn't dare mock or tease you. Not about something like this.”

Their breath was shaking. 

“I'm sorry it took this long,” Frederich whispered, the air between them tense again. “For someone to reach out to you.”

Radhildur relaxed and their forehead sank back onto his shoulder. “But I don’t want you to face the consequence that comes from affiliating with me.”

“Oh it’s far too late for that,” Frederich chuckled. “So let’s make the most of it, hm?”

“Make the most of it,” Radhildur echoed, the tone in their voice indecipherable. 

Frederich hummed something in affirmative, before bumping back against the desk again when he realized Radhildur had pressed themself impossibly closer. His heart hammered wildly in his chest. He could feel it as their nose traced a mere ghost-of-a-line up the dip of his neck and away from his jaw. As he swallowed back a strangled noise, he realized that his voice caught in his throat. Radhildur’s hands gripped the edge of the table and they pushed away just enough to look him straight on. 

“I’d like to ask you to do something,” they said, eyes narrowed and gaze serious. 

Frederich wasn’t sure if he responded, he was only vaguely aware that he agreed.

Radhildur’s brow raised ever so slightly, perhaps in amusement, and they tilted their head to the side. “Would you remove my mask?”

Frederich felt his heart slow down and even out its pace. He could picture that day in the library where they had fallen asleep and the veil had flipped up by accident. Even back then, it'd felt wrong to touch the covering that kept hidden such an essential mark of the heir. Still this was important. This time, it felt different. He was distinctly aware how their relationship could change if he unmasked this guarded person before him. If he uncovered and made them vulnerable. 

Perhaps he’d done that already without knowing. Maybe allowing him this freedom was Radhildur’s way of making the most of their pact together. 

Tentatively, Frederich raised his hands between them and brushed back the tendrils of hair at Radhildur’s temples. They watched him hawkishly, and even with the mask still in place, he could tell their jaw was set. Were they uncomfortable?

“Are you sure?” He asked, not realizing how uncertain his tone would’ve sounded. He tried to mask the quiver in his voice by brushing his thumbs along the sharp curves of Radhildur’s cheekbones, right where the cloth of the veil pressed against the skin. 

It was nearly imperceptible, but Radhildur leaned into the touch. “If you’re willing to go so far for me, I’d like you to see what you’re sacrificing yourself for.”

“I’m not that shallow,” Frederich murmured. “You’re you.”

“Please,” Radhildur said. “This is as much for me, too.”

Reverently, Frederich hooked his fingers around the strips of fabric looped around their ears and removed the mask. The veil fell off rather anticlimactically, and Frederich set it aside on the tabletop. Radhildur never broke eye contact with him. Their lips, he realized, were pressed thin and caused the scar taking up the left side of their mouth to scrunch. The last time he’d caught a glimpse of their mouth, he’d marveled at their rounded upper lip and the soft swell of the lower lip. He unconsciously tipped his face downward to continue his observations. 

“You’re staring,” Radhildur muttered, and Frederich watched as they formed each syllable and sound. 

He licked his lips. “Can you blame me?” he asked almost breathlessly. “You’re incredible.”

Radhildur’s breath hitched and he noticed with a bit of awe as their shoulders bunched and they slanted in a little closer. It felt like he had changed the direction of his gaze, then, and he wondered if they had suddenly gotten taller. It felt as though he had to look up at them now.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Radhildur rumbled, their voice dropping. “Push me away and tell me no, and we will not speak of this again.”

There was a pause, before Frederich finally remembered to breathe. 

From the very first encounter, catching a glimpse of Radhildur in the darkness of a dream, Frederich had been pulled to them like a bird to a gem. He felt as though he was constantly revolving around the heir and their brilliant existence. And only now, all at once, had he finally alighted beside that alluring dazzle.

He said lowly, “Rathi, if you don’t kiss me, I will riot.”

And that was all the permission the heir needed. 

He was only half-aware, as they pushed him onto the tabletop, his arms around Radhildur’s neck and his hand tugging at the coarse locks of their hair. One of Radhildur’s hands was braced on the table beside his neck, and he recognized the other hand gently tilting his chin upward as they devoured him in their kiss. He vaguely noted the knee pressed between his legs after a sharp gasp escaped him—Radhildur’s presence everywhere and still nowhere near as all encompassing as he needed them to be.

Their breath was hot, and he felt a dizzying heat climb in his chest and up his throat. He tugged them closer, angling his own mouth to allow Radhildur better access. He wanted more, and gave a light nip to the upper lip that he’d been staring at earlier. Radhildur’s chuckle reverberated against his ribs and he felt their tongue press at the part between his own lips. A slow and tender lap as if to tease a taste from him.

“Easy,” Radhildur murmured, their voice tugging achingly at his gut. 

He gave a small rebellious twist of their hair and enjoyed as Radhildur growled against his mouth. 

“You are driving me insane,” he muttered. 

“A mutual pleasure, I’m sure,” Radhildur huffed with an obnoxious smirk, their voice low.

Frederich paused, his gaze widening. Their voice was not usually this tenorous when outside of the Atrium. He stared down between them, his gaze widening further, before looking back at them with a shocked expression. 

“Did…you change?”

Radhildur's brows knitted together in confusion, and followed the same line of vision that Frederich had taken between their bodies. They paled and their jaw went slack. “That’s…different.”

Frederich tried to stomp on the swooning, melty feeling as their voice rumbled. “What do you mean that’s different? You do this all the time when we meet in the Celestial realm.”

“Not this specifically, little Scholar,” Radhildur gritted out, their face growing redder. “I…I’ve only ever physically changed to male once in reality. And I got stuck. For a while.”

“You…got stuck?” Frederich parroted, the horror starting to dawn on him too.

“We’ve got a problem,” Radhildur said, their voice strained.

“We’ve got two, rather hard and bothersome problems, at the moment,” Frederich said faintly, accepting the smack to his shoulder delivered by the heir.

Before either of them could comment further, the door to the private study burst open.

“Frederich, you mentioned my name in front of the King—did you listen to anything I told you?” Trevor ranted before stopping dead in his tracks. The door banged shut behind him. 

Radhildur stared over their shoulder, eyes narrowed and furious. Frederich craned his neck to stare from the side. 

“Aha, Trev, this is…” Frederich found that he had quite enough of situations leaving him speechless. 

Trevor crossed his arms. “When I told you to bed someone, Freddie, I didn’t mean it like this.”

“Trevor!” Frederich exclaimed, mortified, before covering his face and grumbling, “Highness Radhildur…I think…we’re really in it now.”

Radhildur’s brow lifted, almost bemused. They pushed away from the table and scooped their veil up in a quick motion to return it over their face. 

“Something was in you, that’s for sure,” Trevor snorted as he looked up and down at Frederich and then to Radhildur, his brows shooting up in awkwardness. “Or maybe not quite yet.”

“Trevor, I’m begging you so we both don’t get beheaded, shut up,” Frederich groaned, lying prone on the tabletop. He decided he really should give up on life. 

Radhildur bit back a laugh.