This one is for my wife (who is helping me get back into writing because im in a slump 😭) @save-the-villainous-cat
Dressing Habits
It was safe to say the knight was almost prepared for what they were about to walk into. Every time the prince called them to his quarters it was some new elaborate scheme to try and seduce them.
But this time the air was different.
They couldn’t see his face and he didn’t turn in his chair when they entered. Something was definitely wrong.
If the knight had the right to speak first they would, but for fear of worsening his state they stayed silent until he was ready.
“I’m tired.” He turned slightly and the knight couldn’t help but trace his side profile with their eyes. Yet they didn’t truly believe what he said, if anything he looked more determined than exhausted.
“You should sleep then, your highness.”
The prince groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. Sometimes he loved his title, other times not so much… “Not that kind of tired.”
They knew.
And they waited for him to continue.
“I’m tired of begging you to touch me.” He smiled, that stupid grin that made the knight’s heart skip a beat every time. That smirk that promised a good time and a bad back the next morning. “I’m a prince after all~”
This time he turned all the way around, revealing the sheer robe that loosely covered his shoulders and chest but did absolutely nothing to hide it. Its dark, floral print and lace edges screamed “rich royalty” which seemed to be the style that suited him best. At least, that’s what the knight had deduced from the prince’s various extravagant outfits.
Or maybe it was just their favourite style out of the many.
“Pardon?” They hated the way their voice broke at its peak, on the other hand the prince seemed to love it. Leaning his head back and wetting his lips as he looked them up and down.
“Do you ever take that off?” He gestured with a flick of his wrist at their armour.
Technically no. But also yes. They did, when they were alone. Which probably hit every check box for a metaphor about their cold heart and closed off demeanour, but it was their duty. They were a knight and their job was to protect. Their amour only ever came off when they had time to themselves. The prince however shortened that time indefinitely with his constant beck and call.
At their silence, he raised a brow, prodding for an answer he must’ve already known. The knight swallowed, normally they had much more composure around him, but his outfit and his laugh and his face, everything, was becoming increasingly more distracting.
“Yes, sire.”
“Fuck…” The prince closed his eyes, groaning in ecstasy as he did. “I thought we saved that name for the sheets.”
“We’ve never had sex.” It came out too fast. Too rushed that they didn’t even realize the words had left their mouth until the prince stood up from his chair and stalked towards them, his grin bigger than ever.
The prince was known for his… luxurious dressing behaviour. It was his favourite thing to do each morning, what outfit will infuriate the knight the most?, type of game. He prided himself on his accuracy at it as well.
This robe however, challenged every other article of clothing the prince had ever worn before. He hadn’t even bothered to put boxers on and the fabric was as good as invisible. Only now did the knight begin to understand what he was getting at.
“Not yet, no.” In two strides his highness was before them. Leaning in before he spoke again, “But I plan to change that tonight.” He hesitated, placing a hand against their chest plate. “May I?”
A terrible trick of words. Both of them were skilled when it came to language—one of the many things the prince found endearing about his guard—but he was more fond of twisting them, whilst they were more fond of empowering them.
The knight wasn’t allowed to take their armour off, especially not while on duty, but a direct order from one of the royal family was not to be ignored, nor deterred. He knew it, he knew both sides and they knew that he knew. It was a double edged sword, yet they were granted a choice. They could choose what rule they would follow and he wouldn’t object to their decision.
“I’m not interested.” Maybe if they lied out loud both of them would believe it. “…Your highness.”
His smile faltered just a little and the knight would lie again and tell themselves it didn’t hurt their heart to see. But they stayed strong and the prince retreated their hand back to their side.
He shrugged, his robe falling off one shoulder revealing a small, circular scar and the knight’s skin prickled with the memory of the moment. They couldn’t handle seeing the prince’s scars, it felt like a reminder that they had failed him. A permanent mark of their sloppy work which ended up hurting the one they were supposed to protect.
The palm of the prince’s hand gently brushed their cheek as he pushed a lock of hair out of their eyes. Drawing the knight back to their surroundings in a blurry rush of heat. His eyes told them he could read their mind and they offered a guilty comfort of which they couldn’t indulge.
“I have sources that would say otherwise…” Cocky and arrogant was his default, but he seemed to hold a certain kindness in his heart for the knight. Yet they couldn’t decide what side they liked more on him.
“You were never one to believe rumours, my liege. What has changed that?”
“Because it’s you they’re about.”
“You’ll find there’s many, if you look.”
“Your highness.” He shared the title as it came from their lips. Practically glowing when he guessed the right name before he turned back towards his chair.
Falling back into it, the knight couldn’t help the lurch their heart did and the flinch their body acted towards the prince’s carelessness. He winked at them, spinning himself around as he spoke.
“Ever thought about switching it up?” The prince waggled his eyebrows, biting his bottom lip before he continue. “Something like da—”
“If you’re about to say what I think you are, don’t bother. It’s not happening.” They had to close their eyes at the thought of keeping composure. He was such a dick. “…My prince.” The knight sneered, biting their tongue at their own attitude.
The prince hummed, much too content with the knight’s reaction. “I won’t give up on you, baby.”
Internally they were relieved, externally they rolled their eyes. “I know.”
197 notes
·
View notes
In Time of Peril by Edmund Blair Leighton
Depicts two young princes, one still a baby wrapped in his mother’s elaborate royal clothing, being spirited away from danger to a protective monastery.
As the adults in the boat await anxiously for permission to enter the sanctuary, the young prince looks over his shoulder and the potential lurking danger.
In a letter, the artist describes the scene as:
“laid at the watergate of a monastery in the fourteenth century;
the outcome of reading of the shelter afforded by such places to the women, children,
and treasure of those who were hard-driven, and in danger.”
“In Time of Peril” remains a favourite painting due to its technical qualities, and the imaginative story it tells evoking western historical royalist fantasy.
211 notes
·
View notes