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“MY head’s…killing me…”
An inebriated man staggered and swayed.
“You drank too much. It’s not much further. You can make it.”
Three men were walking through the quiet palace grounds enshrouded in shallow darkness. Two knights with swords followed behind the man who was in a drunken stupor.
“Neither of you are kind enough to carry me?”
The staggering man—Yašm, the second prince of Marjan—glared back at them. Disgruntled jade eyes peeked out from beneath his jet-black bangs.
The palace grounds were so enormous they seemed to go on forever. The palace itself, which served as a symbol of power, was made up of several dozen large buildings. Each one had a separate function, from political affairs to living quarters.
Although Yašm managed to drag his intoxicated body to the royal residences, the wing with his quarters was still a distance away. He tottered over to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard and crouched down, leaning against the edge.
Standing on guard behind him as he bathed in the water spray were Harij and Geones.
They had both served as Crown Princess Billaura’s personal guards until a few months ago, when her marriage resulted in them being reassigned to Yašm.
“You were the one who bluntly turned down Lord Wahash’s kind suggestion to rest a little longer.”
Yašm had attended the Wahash family banquet last evening as just one of his many duties as the second prince. Since the dinner had gone on late into the night, the Wahashs had even prepared sleeping quarters for his guards, but Yašm started throwing a fit, saying he would return home before dawn. So Harij and Geones quickly woke the coachman, apologized to the Wahashs for putting them out, and raced the carriage home.
“Bah! Harij, you saw it, too! That nobleman’s wife was waiting in my bed wearing only a chemise! Fully caked in powder and reeking of perfume, too! With that hamlike body!” Yašm shouted, blue in the face.
His rant was immediately followed by an “Ulp.” Shouting had brought up bile from his nauseated stomach. No one would think it seeing him puking into the fountain, but Prince Yašm, with his androgynous beauty, was lauded as a handsome young man with irresistible sex appeal by both the aristocracy and the commoners. He was one of the most popular men in the land.
“Are you vomiting, Your Highness?” Geones asked gently, but he only received a slight shake of the head in response.
It was not entirely unexpected for a host to cling to the possibility that the prince might succumb to his carnal desires during his one-night stay, and try to get him to make a mistress out of their daughter. Plenty of lords had sneaked their daughters of marriageable age into his bedchambers before. However, it was rare for a man to have his wife entertain the prince from the same bed.
Even more so when she was the kind of woman everyone felt a little sympathy for and whom, upon opening the door to his chambers for the night, Yašm pretended not to see and promptly declared, “I’m going home.”
“It is because you keep fleeing from women who make a move on you that there are rumors of you being gay.”
“HMPH! I almost want to commend Lord Wahash for sticking his fork in that ham.”
After biting out that sarcastic curse, Yašm doubled over the side of the fountain, surpassing his limit. Despite his sorry state, he wouldn’t let anyone touch him or rub his back as he vomited. Harij and Geones respected his wishes and concentrated on guarding him.
“Talk about…something…”
“I can’t. I’m on duty,” Harij curtly refused.
“I beg of you,” Yašm responded, half in tears. “Be considerate enough to pick up on your lord’s desire for a distraction!”
Pitying his prince for continuing to be treated with disdain by Harij, Geones started up a conversation with the reticent knight standing at attention beside him.
“Azm, lately you’ve started taking time off like you should, huh?”
“Yeah, because they’re my days off.”
Harij gave a succinct reply in response.
“No matter how much we got on your case about taking a little break, you always came into work saying you had nothing better to do… Could it be you got yourself a woman?” Geones said teasingly.
“Yeah.”
“HUH?!” There was a pause before Geones repeated, “Huh?”
Even Yašm, looking awfully green, lifted his head from the water fountain and scrutinized Harij with wide, shocked eyes. “Hey…Harij! I’ve heard nothing of this.”
“You want me to invite you to the wedding ceremony?”
“What?! Your relationship is already that far along?! Of course I’m going!”
“I will invite you since you want to go, then. Please set aside time for it in your busy schedule.”
“Wait, wait! Does that mean you weren’t even planning on inviting me?! Aaah! How has it come to this between us? I have always viewed you as I would my own brother!”
Any more shouting and Yašm was bound to start hurling some real chunks. Harij answered his desperation with a face colder than the water spraying from the fountain.
“Could it be—that rumor about a witch is true?” Geones inquired with a dubious look.
“The truth probably isn’t so far off from what you’re thinking,” Harij confirmed.
Harij had given his name to the city guards at the Witch’s hermitage when he was under suspicion for being the thief they were pursuing. Moreover, Harij didn’t hide that he frequently visited the Witch’s dwelling or that he was currently living with her. Therefore, it wasn’t strange for Geones to have heard rumors about them somewhere along the way.
“HEY! What is this rumor you’re talking about? A witch? Why does Geones know about something that not even I know?”
“Why’re you so interested? It’s creepy for men to confide in each other about stuff like this.” Sick of keeping up the formalities for such a ridiculous topic, Harij gave it to him straight.
“Aren’t we closer than that, though?!”
“Drop it.”
“And here I thought you had finally come back to me after I lent you to Laura—but what’s this I hear? You went and found yourself a woman outside the palace?!”
“Drop it.”