The routine Frederich fell into was simple and easy. It astounded him how he lied without second thought at each check-in with the advisors. Weeks passed as he and Radhildur danced through a cycle of tumbling into each other's arms and feigning their involvement to the people monitoring their progress. And while Frederich would’ve liked to take the credit, Radhildur was an excellent actor. Every curtsey, every delicate and graceful movement of their arms, was facetious only to Frederich. 

For the first time in a long time, the nobility jabbered on about how Radhildur finally had the potential to be a fine princess much like their sister. 

Frederich lauded themselves at the time well-bought.

In the meanwhile, the ploy went underway within the castle walls, and Frederich continued to finalize the notary process of passing the house to Bea. As winter approached closer, Frederich made sure the deed would pass to her name as soon as he no longer had his citizenship, so no local noble could snatch it from her. Trevor helped him make sure the preparations were air tight. Because when Frederich was inevitably exiled, there would no longer be a flow of income to his family, nor the pension that he’d once so painstakingly set up for them. 

Now, he withdrew the meager funds he'd squirreled away and ensured Trevor would pass both money and deed without any trouble. 

It was a bittersweet process, Frederich thought as he counted through his shirts and jackets, placing them in a traveling pack that he could hastily grab and run with. But the continued estrangement between him and his parents grew. Finally at  the point where he no longer saw either, not even in passing. 

Frederich was ready to move on. 

“The King wishes to hold a ball, in honor of my readiness for marriage,” Radhildur said offhandedly, their fingers drumming along Frederich’s rib.

He stared up at them, his attention pulled from the scroll he was reading. “That's a good thing, isn’t it? For the plan.”

They were once again at the little grove where Frederich often told the advisors they held their lessons. Radhildur was lying flat on the ground while Frederich was tucked into their side, reading some findings about Celestial hierarchy passed through folklore. As it turned out, many Celestials tended to have “siblings”,  an opposite or complementary deity that burst into existence alongside one another. He found it fascinating, wondering how many of their remaining Celestials had any sort of familial relationships. 

The heir's arm was curled protectively around him, their fingers idly tapping along his side. The season was in full turn, gone were the last vibrant arrays of gold and orange leaves. Now the frost on the ground threatened to stay a little longer and longer each day. Soon the year would be over, and it would be time for their move.

“He said my suitor will be there.” Radhildur's hand moved upward and splayed flat along his sternum.

Frederich forced back the shiver that threatened to creep up his spine. “He's expediting the timeline.”

“Hil believes he's plotting something to counterattack any potential rebellion we might have,” Radhildur murmured. “It’ll put us in a difficult position if something were to happen at the ball. I would be incapable of fighting back should anything go poorly…or I'd be incapable of protecting you if I were to riot.”

“I'm a big, strong Scholar,” Frederich chuckled, “You needn't worry for my sake.”

The heir hummed noncommittally.

Frederich closed the book he was reading and gazed up at them, his sight followed the sharp curve of their square jaw and the hawkish outline of their sharp nose. He traced the divet of the scar marking their mouth, and brushed his fingers lightly against the grooves of it.

Radhildur's golden gaze flickered to him, something between bemused and irritated. 

“Frederich…I am getting stronger, and not in a good way,” Radhildur said after a moment. “Ku's disappearance has caused my curse to fluctuate drastically. I’m starting to lose control of its strength and its effects over me. If I were to spiral wantonly, I cannot guarantee your safety from either myself or the fall out.”

“Divine corruption,” Frederich muttered, staring up at the sky thoughtfully. “What has your sister said?”

Radhildur shook their head. “Hil has said Av and the others are in a frenzy. Ku's absence has caused the belief in them to shift, and the Warping has become drastically worse. Some of the lesser Celestials are becoming shades of themselves.”

“And her foresight?”

“She…” they paused and pursed her lips. “Hil sees destruction. A land stripped of its life, and overrun by the corruption passed through the crack between dimensions caused by the Warping. You showing up in the Atrium was just a premonition. At the center of it all is a great monster surrounded by a sea of black ichor. A shadow of a Celestial, she thinks.”

“Ku?”

“Maybe.”

Radhildur's hold on him tightened, and they drew him in closer, their nose burying into his temple. “Or maybe something worse.”

Frederich filed away that thought for later, for now he would assuage the heir's apparent unease. “There is good news for you, Highness. The corruption of a Celestial is reversible—as long as Ku has not completely disappeared yet, we can revive the situation. Ku believed the Warping was caused by the ill reputation that you both carried hand in hand. So, logic dictates that if we reverse the rumors spread about you, we can improve the Warping.”

“The answer can't be that…ideal, can it?” Radhildur stared down at him dubiously. 

“I'm an optimist,” Frederich smiled. “You were praised as Rognvaldur, so I'm certain we can generate enough results to test the theory on how much your reputation will alleviate the situation.”

“No one wants to praise me, Freddie,” Radhildur snorted.

Frederich sighed and rolled over, bracing himself on his forearms to lay just a touch above the heir. Radhildur cocked a brow and stared at him curiously. Their hands fell easily to rest at the small of his back.

“I believe most people have been led astray by our current monarch in that they shouldn't care for you or your actions,” Frederich said. “But I've seen firsthand how your actions affect those around you, for the better. Give yourself credit. You're more than the monstrous reputation you've made to protect yourself.”

Something rumbled in Radhildur's chest. “You've expressed this sentiment quite a few times now.”

Frederich smiled and leaned down, kissing the corner of their mouth. “And I'll continue to remind you until you believe it…or until we bring Ku back.”

Radhildur laughed. “Good plan,” they said, fingers moving to brush lovingly along either side of Frederich's jaw before bringing his face to theirs, chasing after his lips with a searing heat that had the Scholar quickly forgetting the premise of their conversation.

The ball was a quick affair, hurried and rushed. This only furthered the suspicion amongst Grimhildis, Trevor, Frederich, and Radhildur that there was a plot by the King for this celebration. Still, the plan carried on as if they didn't know. Trevor was there as moral support to Frederich and Radhildur, while Grimhildis would do damage control should it come to that. 

Frederich hadn't seen Radhildur in a few days, but this would be the true testament to their method acting thus far. He couldn't imagine them in a puffy dress, or in something gossamer or satin-y in the way the Crown Princess would dress.

“What about you?” Trevor asked the night-of, as they both prepared for the event.

Given that they were both in the employ of the royal family, they were invited to make an appearance. 

“What about me?” Frederich asked as he packed his writings for the day in his satchel. 

“What are you wearing tonight?” Trevor asked, leaning against the desk. “Your beau would probably be disappointed to see you in your everyday garb.”

“My beau?” Frederich coughed out, before thinking to himself that was the probably the most accurate way to describe Radhildur. “I'm just going to wear this without my Scholar's robe. Clean and easy.”

Trevor sighed dramatically. “You lack imagination, come on.”

Frederich followed as Trevor led them from the Scriptorium, then the palace, to the edge of the pleasure district where Trevor lived. Even in the daylight, men and women wore their gaudiest and called out to them. Most knew Trevor by name. 

“I'm saving my money for when I…leave, remember?” Frederich hissed through his teeth.

Trevor nodded. “Consider this a thank you for all the fun. It's been a grand time, bullying you. I have no idea who I'll taunt when you're gone.”

“Are you…being sentimental, Trev?” Frederich feigned surprise, and yet still he couldn't help feeling a little touched.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Trevor sniffed, pushing Frederich to a small shop that held a sign with cloth and scissors. “This place sells surplus clothing the courtesans in the brothels no longer want. Most of them are in fairly good condition, so let's see what we can find that won't break my bank.”

Frederich didn't know how he felt wearing clothes passed through the brothels of Reyk, but he did notice how every courtesan was dressed formally and elegantly. So he felt confident enough that he'd look well enough to draw Radhildur's attention at the ball.