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Your Majesty, the King

Mature content warning: Story contains depictions of violence, gore, and severe psychological illness. Silas, a young elven soldier, is sent to kill the country’s royal family, who is trying to eradicate the elves from the continent. Unfortunately for Silas, the crown prince is a young child, and Silas is unable to bury his humanity to kill the young boy. Instead, Silas helps the young prince escape, which sets off a chain of events that forever changes both of their lives and intertwines their fates together. Ten years later, Silas is a hardened soldier and spy, who has buried the events that happened that fateful day. Yet the crown prince, Clarence, has never forgotten Silas's role in his life. This leads the pair into a spiral of hate, war, and revenge as they try to put aside their differences and piece together the Yursear Kingdom, plagued by racism, death, and poverty. 1v1, slow-burn romance, hate to love. ____________________________________________________________ Your Majesty, the King (c) Cat Masseuse and Hunny Bee. All rights reserved. Any reposting, sale, translation, etc. without permission is prohibited. Please contact the authors with questions. Translation policy: bit.ly/3xP6d6P

Cat_Masseuse · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
177 Chs

Chapter 115: Unexpected Partners

Chapter 115:

Unexpected Partners

"M-Maeir?" Clarence nearly jumped off of the bed at the sight of Silas's mother. He whispered aloud, nearly speaking aloud. But, when he flinched, preparing to move away from Silas, Maeir lifted her right hand to stop him.

"Don't move-" Maeir whispered harshly, her voice nearly a puff of air, nearly inaudible. Clarence strained to hear her.

"But I-"

"This is always how he's slept." Maeir harshly whispered in response, her eyes like a demon's. "Wake him up and I'll put you to sleep myself. Go back to bed and forget this ever happened." Her eyes were nearly glowing in the dark, her lips pulled taut in a frown.

The young prince fell silent, stiff as a board as he stared at Silas, who slept peacefully, showing no signs of waking anytime soon. He could only hold his breath, nod, and watch as Maeir slowly crept out of the room, slowly closing the door as if the conversation between the two of them had never happened. It was only until her footsteps disappeared that he let out the breath he had been holding.

Curiously, the prince stared down at the older man resting on his chest. His expression was warm, like a piece of fresh bread. He nuzzled against Clarence unconsciously, as if chasing his body heat in a coaxing manner. Silas looked so gentle, so cute, that Clarence wanted to continue to stroke his head, but he fought the strong temptation and kept his hands at his side, laying like a corpse.

I need to sleep. I'll only slow down the group if I'm tired.

After the incident with Maeir, Clarence was sleepless half the night, laying still in the bed with Silas wrapped around him like a silk robe, languid and soft. Silas's breaths landed gently on his collarbone, and he resorted to the age-old tactic of counting sheep, Clarence's eyes nearly bloodshot as his hands rested far away from Silas's sleeping figure, keeping his hands to himself after being caught by the Bloody Maeir.

Why am I just letting him hold onto me like this? Clarence felt a moment of clarity in his head, no longer thinking as strongly with his lower half. All day, he was mean and moody, and now that we're asleep it's like he won't let go of me. What's wrong with him! The young prince pouted to himself, but he remained still, afraid of waking Silas. The longer he laid, the more he was restless, until he started counting sheep again, closing his eyes shut like a petulant child.

Finally, after counting numerous sheep, Clarence managed to fall asleep in a restful way, listening to the sound of Silas's even breaths.

The pair slept in that manner until dawn, when Silas miraculously rolled off of him, now entangled in the majority of the quilt as he bundled up near the edge of the bed. While Clarence was afraid of him falling off the bed, he remained on his half of the bed with a small quarter of the blanket, feeling cold.

When the cold was too much for Clarence to bear, he stood up from the bed and straightened up his clothes, feeling as though he had dressed himself after doing something indecent. Looking at Silas's sleeping figure still resting on the bed, his face flushed and his ears burned like a love-struck fool. He patted his cheeks hard with his hands, bringing back his attention to the situation at hand, and the hunger eating away at his stomach.

Not wanting to wake Silas, Clarence walked quietly towards the door, his posture hunched and awkward, as if he were making every attempt to walk as quietly as he possibly could. However, before he could reach the door, Maeir pushed it open, her eyes falling on Clarence before it turned to the bundle on the bed, balled up like a hibernating animal.

"He's not awake yet?" Maeir was the first to ask, her voice much gentler than yesterday's warning. She ignored Clarence and stared towards Silas, who had already started to unravel his blanket mass. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled, but Silas paid them no mind, straightening up himself lazily before he stood, his eyes still fuzzy with sleep.

"It's been so long since I've slept that well." He yawned into his hand, appearing content. "I had a strange dream though. I wish I could remember what it was…" He murmured in a low tone. "It was warm…"

Maeir stared at Clarence's figure silently, her eyes nearly boring holes into his head. Not a word.

His skin prickled, bringing a feeling of bloodlust with it.

Once everyone had woken up and entered the kitchen, Josephine fed the group corn soup, grainy biscuits, and cooked eggs. Having eaten only scraps since their escape and last meal, the three guests were excitedly filling their stomachs, Clarence and Silas both shamelessly asking for seconds. The food was deliciously prepared, and Josephine did not allow them to leave the table hungry, making them eat until they could not possibly fill their stomachs any more.

After the food had been cleared and the dishes washed, Jasmine prepared their disguises for the day, her face full of a foxish grin, bringing with it a feeling of dread for Silas and Clarence. Silas's face was nearly black as the bottom of a pot, his expression falling another degree as he stared at the neatly-assembled clothes resting on the table. There were two sets of women's clothes, one set for a man. In his heart, he did not have to ask who the second dress was for.

"Now, there's not much time, so get dressed quickly. We need to leave before the guards continue their search. There's no telling when Beau the Bloodhound will make his rounds here." Jasmine rolled her eyes,

Silas looked towards Jasmine, "You sound like you know him quite well."

Jasmine sneered, her expression bitter. "That fucking-" Josephine coughed aloud, causing Jasmine to mutter quietly before she continued, "That persistent mutt once chased me up a rooftop in the capital while I was on a mission. Nearly stole my satchel if it weren't for my heel almost breaking his skull." She reminisced with a violent smile, bringing the room to a still quiet. "I threw it at his face and knocked him off the building. I wish I could do it again."

"That makes two of us." Maeir added, a small smile cracking on her face.

Taking the clothes from the table, the three stepped aside to change into their new clothes.

Using the room they had shared overnight, Clarence and Silas turned their backs to each other and began to change, not a word exchanged between the two of them as Clarence changed into the prepared travel clothes, the clothes fitting him slightly loose, but still comfortably. The fabric was much coarser than he was used to, however, and it brushed against his skin coarsely. Tugging at the high collar of the grey sweater, Clarence frowned, looking uncomfortable.

"Roll down the collar." Silas said with placid expression, his fingers tangled in the tied front of the dress, attempting to lace the layers of thread that closed the front of the dress in a conservative manner. While the dress was rather plain, it was a warm spring gold color that made Silas's hair stand out in a way Clarence found particularly flattering.

"Thank you." Clarence whispered in response, his face tinting red at the thought of what had occurred last night.

There was not much time for them to finish changing. While Clarence had finished dressing, he had begun using a pot of strangely-scented paste. Using the paste, Clarence began dyeing his hair a strange black color, soiling his soft, short hair with the blackened paste, his expression bitter.

"God, this smells awful… like horse dung." Clarence whined, his eyes narrowed shut, the ends wet with tears.

Silas watched him for a moment, feeling fed up with his own garments as he dropped the fabric ribbon in his fingers and said with a frown, "Hold still. I'll help you."

His hands still smeared with the black liquid paste, Clarence smiled, "Really? Thank you."

Silas snorted, dipping the tips of his fingers in the disgusting paste. "If you fail to do it properly, we could risk getting caught. Now keep still, I'm going to touch your hair. Move and I'll hurt you." While Silas had some bitterness in his tone, Clarence only felt as if his heart had been pawed at by a cat.

The paste soon began to invade Clarence's scalp, bringing with it the smell of fresh soil and dead bugs, but the young prince could only bask in the harmony shared between the two. Feeling his soft fingers working around his scalp, Clarence felt a burst of warmth fill his heart. His once-opened eyes softly fell shut, allowing him to enjoy the sensation of Silas's hands rubbing his hair gently, like stroking a domesticated cat. Silas used soft and hard pressure, working in the black stain to the base of his hair, running his fingers through strands of hair to dye them completely. Clarence basked in the contrast of Silas's cold fingers running the warm substance through his blackening hair.

"This should last us long enough to complete our trip." Silas said with a nod, gently scooping more of the warmed paste as he continued to work around Clarence's head. "So long as you don't wash your hair, I guess."

Maybe after some time, I can fall into a lake or something. Maybe then he'll help me again? Wanting to remember this sensation, Clarence plotted quietly to himself as Silas grabbed another batch of hair, dying it with his hands.

While the two were still getting the last of the paste in Clarence's hair, Jasmine stepped in the room, announcing herself as she brought in a jacket for Silas. "Are you two dressed?" Watching Silas work the paste into Clarence's hair, she shook her head. "Apparently not." The expression on Clarence's face was duly noted.

Listening to Jasmine leave, Silas spoke first. "Try to stay out of the rain, or else this might wash out." Silas hummed, running his fingers through Clarence's hair with gentle strokes. "It's almost dry now, but I can't guarantee it won't run if it gets wet. It's almost dry now, though"

Clarence nodded shyly. "Got it."

Jasmine left for only a moment before she returned with a small wooden bucket and a towel to wash their hands, bringing back the natural skin color they used to be, no longer tainted by the stinky ash mixture Jasmine had brought them.

After their hands were clean, Jasmine checked their outfits with a scrutinizing gaze. She nodded in approval at Clarence before she turned to Silas with a small frown. "I thought you'd worn a few of these by now. Isn't it a hobby of yours or something?" Jasmine raised a brow, her expression thoughtful. "Besides that, you won't be the only one wearing a dress in the future." Her eyes trailed over to Clarence.

Clarence stared at Jasmine with a heavy gaze, silently refusing such a thought.

Silas's expression fell another degree. "If you all didn't have such sick hobbies, I would have never been in a dress in the first place!" He sounded particularly angry, his expression taut and red like the sun. Jasmine could only laugh at his words and help him lace the front as Silas looked to the side, tapping his foot with impatience. "Besides that, why do women have to wear such complicated garments?"

"Some of us like to feel pretty, unlike you." Jasmine asked after finishing the final touches on Silas's dress. The other two had finished. "Maeir, are you ready?"

Maeir stepped through the doorway, her head high as she entered. While she was dressed in a long autumn dress, it was loose at the bottom, plain as a widow's gown. Her hair had been tied back in a braid, trailing down her back in a tight knot. The blonde hair had grey streaks hidden in it, showing Maeir's true age as she wrapped the pendant around her neck and dropped it under her coat, hiding it from view.

"Are you ready?" She asked Silas, watching as he put his pendant around his neck.

After the two adjusted the thin chains, they were ready. Infusing their mana into the stone, Silas closed his eyes, allowing his body shape to naturally change, morphing with a faint twinkling light, like stars. His eyes widened, his nose softening, and his lips becoming fuller, overall softening his gaze. Maeir's face wrinkled and shrank, bringing with it the appearance of an elderly traveler. Silas's long hair was now a dull brown, and Maeir's had turned completely grey, making them nearly unrecognizable.

Watching as Silas and Maeir's facial features changed, Clarence was at a loss. He had never been this close to elves before, and watching them use the gems to transform was beyond his comprehension. They were evil, man-eating creatures, but as time passed between the three of them, he only watched them use their gems to transform their appearances, using their mana for everyday occurrences. It was incomprehensible for him.

He began to slowly see that the elves around him were far different than he had imagined.

"Witchcraft…" Clarence murmured, watching as Maeir's and Silas's facial features morphed into something nearly unrecognizable.

"What did you say?" Maeir snapped coldly in her usual voice, her now aged eyes threatening, locking onto Clarence's shrinking figure.

"It's what the servants always called your magic." Clarence said, lifting his inner eyebrows apologetically. Maeir frowned, her expression holding back the words that threatened to spill from her lips.

"It's not witchcraft, it's mana." Silas explained, lifting the gem back out of his chest for Clarence to see. The stone's surface was warm, glowing a dim soft purple. "I'm only half elven, so my mana is weaker compared to my mom's. That's why I can't change my features as well, either." He paused, allowing Clarence to take in the new information as he added, "All elves have a certain amount of mana in their bodies, allowing them to use these mana-infused gems like this. It's a gift that was given to us by the gods and goddesses that grow our food and protect our people. It's not something that is cursed and should be feared." Silas paused momentarily as he held the gem gently in his soft, battle-scarred hand, then placed it back down on his chest, "You and anyone who has said such negative things has never taken the time to learn any better. I hope you think of that before you say something else that is offensive."

Clarence completely ignored Silas's chiding tone, instead seeming intrigued, and Silas let him lift the gem off of his chest and into his open palm with a curious gaze, much like a child. He rolled the tear-drop shaped gem in his palm, rubbing the surface with his finger tip. After a short moment, he retracted his finger, as if he were burned, and gave it back to Silas, his expression awkward.

"The gem tends to get warmer the more we use it. Be careful." Silas said in response, tucking the gem back into his shirt and out of view. "It can be rather finicky when it comes in contact with outside sources."

"I understand." Clarence's eyes were full of wonder. "Maybe in the future, you can tell me a bit more about it."

Maeir saw Silas ready to respond, her eyebrows furrowing at Silas's hardened face. No one but his mother could tell, but Silas's expression had softened since they had first escaped the castle. The mere thought made Maeir feel frantic. Before anything else could progress, she stopped the conversation, "We'll do that later. We need to leave."

"That's right." Jasmine nodded, adjusting her own simple traveling gown before she turned to her aunt, mumbling in a low tone.

Completing their final costume checks, the group noticed a small problem. Silas's appearance had been changed, but as they stared at his Spring traveling outfit, something felt missing. Staring at his bare head, Josephine clapped her hands together in thought before she walked into the small bedroom and reappeared with a small box in her hands. Inside was a bonnet. "Put this on, dear." Josephine held a gold bonnet in her hand, the ribbon at the bottom draping to the ground.

"But this is-" Jasmine said aloud, staring at the bonnet.

Josephine shook her head. "I'm too old to travel now. I would much rather see it be put to good use." The bonnet was aged, however it was in good condition, looking like a particularly expensive piece for the poor Josephine.

Silas took the bonnet from her hand, holding it in both of his with a small smile as he said, placing it on his head. "By the time we finish this mission, I'll make sure this bonnet makes it back to your hands." He adjusted the back of the bonnet before he used the ribbon to tie the chin close and added, "Until then, please stay safe, Aunt Josephine."

Their luggage had been arranged before their departure, allowing them to say their goodbyes with haste. They brought their meager belongings, satchels, and some travel items prepared by Jasmine with them, bringing back a sense of normalcy that had all been lost in the past few days. As they said their final goodbyes, Jasmine hugged her aunt, and the three guests thanked the elderly woman with gratitude, unsure if it would be the last time they saw the kind woman.

That elf, Silas… Josephine smiled, turning to close the door behind her as she stepped outside. There's something there. Between him and the prince. Both poor souls will probably never realize it though.

It was finally time. Watching as the group of four departed, Josephine waved, standing in the doorway of her small cottage. A plaid shawl was wrapped around her aging shoulders, and she watched as the four disappeared out of view, their backs growing shorter as they faded over the horizon. Their travel donkey, a particularly dumpy boy, smiled at Jasmine, his back full of travel items.

"Let's go." Grabbing the donkey's reins, Jasmine led the group with the donkey lead in hand, standing next to Maeir with her sword hidden in her dress. Not far behind were Clarence and Silas, who both were still fighting the lingering mixed feelings in their hearts about one another. The atmosphere was awkward, but no one was willing to discuss the topic.

Having left the immediate vicinity of the house, the material had already dried on Clarence's hair, feeling light and slightly gritty. With a small frown, he worked up the courage to ask Jasmine, who walked beside their prepared donkey, full of luggage.

"Hey, Jasmine, what is this paste made of?" Clarence bravely asked.

Jasmine stared at his head, patting the head of the donkey as she did so and responded, "Do you really want to know?"

Silas, having smeared the material in his hands for so long, refused. "No, we don't."

In truth, it was made of powdered roots, oil, and other uninteresting items she had procured, but she kept her lips shut as though they held a huge secret, weighing on the group of four for the entirety of their journey.

"My, what a beautiful view!" Two men were standing near a popular traveler's bridge, an inn only a short distance away from where they stood. Travelers walked to and fro, passing in front of the two young men that looked barely old enough to apply to be soldiers.

Women dressed in Yursinean spring dresses walked down the path, many accompanied by family and servants to aid their journey. The poorer woman lacked the layered jackets the merchant's had, leaving them to brave the chill lingering in the air, bringing with it a feeling of melancholy and unpleasantness.

While the two men stood to the side of the bridge, a particular woman caught their eye. She was tall, nearly the height of a well-built man. Her eyes were soft, a hazel brown, and her hair a muted caramel brown tone. Her face was exquisite, however, and part of her features were hidden under the shadow of her golden bonnet, making them both wish to take the bonnet off of the lovely woman's head, allowing them to peek at what had been hidden beneath it.

Their gazes were heavy and unhidden, and Silas could not help but ignore them, frowning in displeasure as he gripped his sleeve with a sigh. If only they knew I was an elven man. I'm sure their eyes would fall out of their sockets. He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

It was not difficult to hear the men's incessant chatter, and Clarence found himself staring at Silas, who had begun to look uncomfortable.

"Are they bothering you?" Clarence asked aloud. His gaze was fierce as his eyes moved over the two men, the blue hue in his ice cold as ice. The two men, nearly as old as Clarence himself, froze in place, falling still. "I can take care of them both for you."

The chill in the air was heavy, but as the three made eye contact, Silas turned and looked over his shoulder, seeing where Clarence's eyes had fallen before he fiercely grabbed the back of past prince's collar and turned him forward, nearly pulling his neck down with it as he dragged him forward, keeping his troublesome nose out of trouble.

"Quit acting like a fool." Silas chided him, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again under the cover of his bonnet, his face cold as his stride remained long, "Fighting with random travelers will only slow us down and bring unnecessary attention to us. Quit picking a fight with everyone."

"That's not the problem." Clarence snorted aloud, "Maybe if you didn't flaunt around as much, they wouldn't keep trying to come and talk to you."

Silas stopped in his tracks, Clarence, whose collar was still firmly in Silas's steady grip, practically fell forward with Silas's sudden stop. Clarence glanced up as Silas smiled darkly on the nervous prince. Silas's eyes narrowed with his smile, and Clarence could not help but marvel at the little folds near Silas's eyes.

Adorable. Clarence thought to himself, missing the beginning of Silas's scolding,

"Not listening, hmm? Well, maybe we should leave you behind then. You can fight to your heart's content." Silas said, tugging one last time on Clarence collar before suddenly releasing it, sending Clarence tumbling forward.

The men who had made the obnoxious comments about the disguised Silas began to laugh at Clarence's misfortune, until Silas turned a fiery eye to them.

"I see you are not so busy you have time to harass a young woman and laugh at a child-" Clarence looked up in horror as Silas shouted at the shrinking young men.

Child?! Clarence cried to himself, He thinks I'm a child?!

"-And what would your mothers say about your behavior?!" Silas continued on as the men shrunk away, scurrying off to avoid the fiery licks from Silas's heavy tongue, "That's right! Run to your mothers, you sniveling little bridge trolls!"

Clarence continued to look up at Silas from his place on the ground, his face contorted with pain and sadness, "I'm not a child." Clarence mumbled as he rose to his feet, "I'm a king."

"You were a king," Silas said, grabbing Clarence's arm as he helped the young man rise to his feet, "And now you're a fugitive on the run. Please try to remember that the next time you want to fight someone."

With his business seemingly concluded, Silas carefully adjusted his bonnet and continued forward. Seeing Silas walk away like that, Clarence felt a prickling panic sensation in the back of his mind. "Wait! I did-"

I did that for you! Clarence wanted to cry out, but he suddenly felt shy when Silas stopped and turned around to face him.

As Clarence rushed to follow behind Silas, who walked deftly in his heeled travel boots, Jasmine and Maeir walked a slight distance behind them, watching them with interest. "So fierce-" Jasmine said, her eyes sparkling in awe. "Is that your son-in-law?" She joked, laughing lightly before she fell still, staring at Maeir's expression.

"No, he's not." Maeir was bitter.

Holding back her surprise, Jasmine nodded, "Huh. They seem so close, though? Maybe the prince had a change of heart towards the elf?" She withheld her thoughts, thinking to herself, Maybe just that elf, then?

Maeir could only respond helplessly, "I don't like that boy, but it's Silas's decision how he responds to those feelings. I know he'll make the right decision." Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the shy smile on Clarence's face. "That boy is so infatuated with my son, even after the two of them nearly killed each other. I still can't trust that it's not an act. I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up to a dead son due to him." She clenched her fists, unable to hold back the fierce intent leaking from her figure.

Jasmine nodded, "I heard of your escape from the palace. I was pretty surprised to see the three of you still traveling together." She sighed, "After all, if Clare were to try to run off by himself now, he'd only get himself killed. Maybe he's aware traveling with you is the best option?" She used the prince's nickname casually, unafraid of offending the past royal.

"Probably. He's smart enough to realize that at least." Maeir frowned deeper. "I still don't trust him."

"My employer has a use for him anyway. If he tries anything, he won't make it very far." Jasmine said brazenly, knowing what was at stake in this operation. She added with a huff. "If only she were closer, we wouldn't have to walk this damn far. Taking a carriage is too conspicuous, but heaven forbid we can't go without a donkey… ridiculous. She has to be punishing me."

The donkey walking next to Jasmine let out a whiny neigh unique to a donkey, its eyes staring at her with some resentment.

"What? We'll be stopping in the next town over. You can rest your hooves then." She chided, rolling her eyes. "It's not like the exercise will kill you, fatty."

The donkey remained silent, its eyes narrowed in slits, as if plotting how to knock Jasmine off of her feet for the joy of it. There was no opportunity for the donkey to misbehave, as Maeir's cold demeanor kept it paralyzed in fear, moving only as it needed to as it watched the disguised elf, feeling the killing intent leaking from her figure as she stared at Clarence, wishing to break his figure in half.

They had only started their journey, but the tides in their group had changed, bringing a feeling of calm and togetherness within the four. Clarence, still the outlier, continued to work hard to improve his position in the group, first attempting to win over his past enemy, hoping to safeguard his life, even if it meant losing his dignity in the process.

They had only started their journey, but there were still nineteen days to pass before they reached the Highland District. It would be a long and arduous road.

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Really enjoyed this week's chapter, but I was a little nervous whether I'd have it done or not in time... I've had to hold three separate disciplinary meetings with my students, so it's been a rough last week or two. Hopefully their behavior will change, much like Clare's is ;; And thank you all for your continued comments and support! Hunny edited this week, and I'm already so much happier with her back!!

Hope you all enjoy this week's chapter. See you next week~ ;D

I'll be streaming tonight at 7 PM EST~! Streaming Phasmophobia with Hunny, Raet, and my friend Ren, so come check it out on my twitch if you want to watch Hunny slowly sacrifice us to ghost... D: