Chapter 170: Cooperation of Nations

Chapter 170:

Cooperation of Nations

The night had begun, but the palace was full of fervor, an unsettling aura of energies flowing down the halls, keeping those inside awake. Inside the sitting room, a tense conversation was had between Clarence and the two princesses, something Silas did not feel privy to eavesdropping on. 

It would be best to hurry back to our room. Nothing good will come out of waiting for Clarence in the dark like this. Having left Clarence behind with the princesses, Silas found himself restless, walking aimlessly before he approached his room. The dim light of the flickering candles in the hall displayed the numerous repairs undergone while the palace was under rebel rule. Many of the changes, while noticeable, were for the better, Silas found. Though Clarence was not allowed much power by Eva, he had worked carefully with the rebel leaders to ensure the palace was restored, retaining its status as a beacon of hope for the new style of ruling the kingdom would be undergoing. 

For the elves, rather than an object of oppression, small blocks of hope were being built within the kingdom, allowing them more freedoms than ever before. While their wounds would take generations to heal, the sense of forward progress was enough for Silas, knowing the elves of the kingdom no longer had to live in fear of oppression by its own rulers. 

Lost in thought, Silas walked slowly, steadily, until he nearly bumped into a figure in front of his room. Staring at the familiar person, Silas called out to her, his tone nearly questioning. "Maeir?" Surprised by the appearance of Maeir, her face was full of thoughtful patience as she met eyes with her son.

She lowered her crossed arms and smiled, relieved to see him alone for once, not followed by the sticky piece of cream cake that had grown attached to her son. "I thought you'd be back around now." She mentioned, nodding her head towards the door. "The guards are switching shifts, so I wanted to talk to you before they return. Can we talk inside?"

The appearance of his mother startled Silas, but knowing she would not have come so late without a reason, Silas quickly nodded, allowing her inside the sitting room before he quickly closed the door, attempting to avoid any prying eyes. The rebels, while intent on assisting them, still were not to be fully trusted. 

The pair was quick to move to the middle of the sitting room, away from anyone that. could possibly eavesdrop outside. Maeir walked around the room, adjusting the curtains to a close as she checked that the windows were closed and locked tightly before she let out an audible sigh, her brows slightly knitted. 

"What's wrong?" Silas asked, moving towards the chairs as he sat down, motioning for Maeir to join him. 

After moving to the seat next to her son, Maeir bit her lower lip for a moment, as if thinking of her delivery before she spoke. "We don't have much time. I want to be direct with you." Without mincing words, Maeir's words were quick and concise. "Now that Malcolm has been handled, I would like to take you back home, to the Faelfier Kingdom, Silas."

"What?" The space around the two fell silent, the sound of Silas's heartbeat increasing in pace as he stood still, his eyes holding a trace of shock. Returning home? Now? "But, if I were to leave-" He would be leaving Clarence behind, undoubtedly, along with Eva and those who had previously threatened harm against the prince, as he once had. This feeling, it really was ironic. "What about Clarence?"

Will he really be safe here alone? Even with Maeir and Silas by his side, anything could happen to Clarence.

"He can't go with us, not with Eva's current plans." Maeir sat beside her son, her hand landing gently on her son's shoulder as she asked softly, nearly against her nature as she asked, "Are you willing to leave him behind? It won't be forever, I can promise that at least."

The past months had been a blur, but his memories with Clarence came with a distinct clarity. The times he had laid in the other man's arms in their shared bed, the kisses they shared under the cover of the moonlight, and even the times they had fought to keep each other safe in the face of well-deserved scrutiny. Having been together for only a short period of time, separating felt like an insurmountable task. Years had passed, and they had spent much of their lives shared, even if not together. Could they separate again? Rather, would Clarence allow it?

"I understand your worries." Seeing the conflict in her son's face, Maeir let out a sigh. "Now that Clarence has the throne, I'm afraid others will come after you to get to him." Holding Maeir's hand, Silas could see just how much she had aged in the short time they had been together. 

So many years he himself had spent separated from Maeir, his siblings, and his friends. He had left everything behind for the rebels and for Clarence. Now, he had to choose between those he loved. "It's all so sudden, and I-" Silas frowned, his words trailing off uneasily. 

Maeir leaned closer to Silas, speaking in a low tone, nearly inaudible, "I can only trust Eva as far as I can throw her. I don't believe she will do anything to jeopardize this arrangement, however…" She trailed off, her eyes falling down the empty hall, vigilantly, "There may be those around her that are unsatisfied with her decision of keeping him alive."

"Mom," Silas responded, worry lining his brow, "He's important to me. I don't want him to die. If I leave… they might-"

"This decision did not come easy." Sensing her son's anxiety, Maeir continued, "I can see now keeping Beau Laurent alive will be worth it. He can protect that stupid lover of yours." For the first time since their arrival, Maeir let out a small, genuine chuckle. The pureness in her laugh nearly caught Silas off guard. "Clarence was smart enough to stay alive this long. I promise you he will be okay."

He was tempted to laugh at Maeir's words, but the burning pain in his chest stopped him. "As things are now, we don't have much of a choice, do we?" Silas said with a sigh, wishing things had not come down to such a difficult decision. 

The room was silent, save for the faint sounds of wildlife outside of the reconstructed palace. The sound of Silas's heart felt as though it were echoing in the room, thundering like a raging storm. His temples throbbed, and his eyes turned red, burning with the salt of fresh tears. Still holding his mother's hand, he used his free hand to wipe his eyes, sighing a shaky breath to steady his words. 

"Sometimes being in love means being selfish, Silas." Still holding her son's hand, Maeir squeezed it, her eyes full of a somber air. "Even if you don't want to do it, you have to do what's best for you. If he loves you, a short separation will only be a short obstacle."

"I know." Silas whispered, his voice trailing off, his lips fixed in a hard frown. "Let me talk to him first. When do we need to leave?"

"We have less than a month. I'm not leaving without you." Maeir asserted, her words carrying not a trace of patience. "Regardless of what that royal pain in the ass thinks." 

Silas released his hold on Maeir's hand, attempting to wipe away the tears that had fallen on his cheeks. So little notice, so little time. Maeir had undoubtedly done it on purpose, knowing he could not back out now. "I'll talk to him. Soon."

The separation would be difficult, but for some reason, a trace of hope filled Maeir's mind when she had spoken to Eva regarding the arrangement. At the moment, Silas was a distraction for Clarence, and while he was used as a threat to keep Clarence in line initially, his importance had waned, and now he himself was an obstacle to Clarence's development as king. The new government structure was taking the place of the old royal family's immobile rule. There was no time for love and intimacy in the face of an unstable kingdom. 

Everyone was aware, but no one wanted to face the troublesome situation. Reaching forward, Maeir took her tearful son into her arms, holding back her own emotions with a quiet shake of her head. 

Klifford, I wish you were here at times like this. Maeir thought, holding her son tight as she patted his back, her own eyes red as she slowly rocked her son side to side, just as she had when he was a child. 

The night was long, filled with an unwavering scent of grief. 

… 

After spending countless minutes wrapped in his mother's arms, crying his heart out, Silas finally felt he had come to terms with his imminent departure. Every night that passed since glad, laying in his shared bed, wrapping his arms around Clarence's waist, Silas found himself forced awake, as if absorbing every little feature of Clarence's face, knowing their time together was now limited. Many nights were spent like this, Silas staying awake until he no longer could, forced by his weakened body to fall asleep. His eyes remained red-rimmed, tired, and out of focus during the day. Slowly, he had begun to look like a ghost. The third night passed similarly. 

However, unknown to Silas, by the time he had fallen asleep late into the night, Clarence would gently open his eyes, staring over Silas with a trace of concern, tracing the strands of hair out of Silas's face as he held the man close to his chest, concern filling his sleepless gaze. "When you wake up, I hope you're willing to tell me what's on your mind, Silas. It hurts me to see you like this." 

Lowering his head, he cupped Silas's cheeks, listening to the man's light breathing as he peppered a short trail of kisses on the man's face, starting at his forehead as he kissed his left eyelid, cheek, and lips. The kisses were warm and gentle, holding a trace of deep love. As much as he wanted to bring Silas to ease, he could not, so he had begun watching him in his sleep, just as Silas had. 

The strange pair passed two more days like this before the opportunity to discuss his departure arose, and Silas had steeled his nerves somewhat, hoping Clarence could be as understanding as he had hoped. 

Today. I have to tell him today. Silas wanted to spend the last of his days in the Yursear kingdom with Clarence. The desire to tell the man he had come to love he had to leave faded more and more each time he saw the younger man's face, full of love, tenderness, and affection that could not be faked. Even now, part of Silas was worried if he told Clarence he was leaving him, that Clarence would break off their relationship entirely, cursing each and every moment they had spent together until now as he had in the past. 

Another part of him was concerned Clarence would take the news so poorly that he would drug him, chaining him to the bed like a beast, keeping him under lock and key as the sun and moon greeted the sky, day after day. If he acts out like he did when he first found me, Eva might really kill him this time. He shook his head, feeling more and more dejected.

However, the chance to speak of the topic freely came abruptly the same day, spurred much by Clarence's spontaneous nature. 

Having spent days preparing for the kingdom to settle, now concluding Malcolm's mysterious death and the trouble of the rebel forces, Clarence had found himself with little time to spend with his dear Silas. Escaping from his royal duties one afternoon, he covertly scoured the palace and grabbed Silas's hand, dragging him away from his menial duties as he brought him to his familiar bedroom. 

The childhood bedroom they had first met in.

The door, once locked, now unlocked with the key Clarence had managed to find and steal before it could be noticed missing. "I wanted to see if there was anything left in my old room." Clarence said with a thoughtful hum, his eyes glimpsing down as if deep in thought, using the large metal key to unlock the dusty door. "Let's hurry inside before the maids notice us. Eva will be furious if she finds me in here. God knows she'll probably think I'm escaping."

Even as the now "king" of the Yursear kingdom, the lack of trust the rebels still had for him was astounding. Sneaking around like this was severely frowned upon, but it was the only chance they would have to speak alone. They had to take this chance. 

I want Silas to tell me what's on his mind. Maybe a change of pace will help. Clarence thought, pushing the door open as he led Silas inside. Once the door was tightly shut and locked, Silas and Clarence explored Clarence's bedroom with slow steps, kicking up small clouds of dust as they inspected the white sheets covering the unused furniture. 

Dried painting supplies and paints were scattered over a table towards the end of the room, and remnants of past projects still lingered. Silas ran his gaze over the table as Clarence inspected another part of the room, his gaze occasionally falling over Silas, waiting for him to bring up what had been worrying him. 

As Silas inspected the table, his hand bumped into a lump of old paper scraps. With a rustling sound, he moved them aside, an old sketchbook appeared, worn but well preserved

"What's this?" Silas asked, holding the strange book in his hands. The pages were creased and curled with age, stained yellow at the ends, well worn with the touch of a slender hand. The leather cover was also tattered and scraped, but the spine was still stiff and supportive as ever, holding a variety of pages inside without complaint. The dust kicked up from the book danced in the air, making Silas cough as he stared down int

As Silas opened the book, his eyes falling on the first page, he could not help but fall silent, his eyes growing wider as he stared down at the figure gazing back at him. This is? 

It was a young elven man, his head full of strands of golden hair, dancing around his youthful face as he wore a suit of white. His cheeks were blushed with a cool rouge, his lips dyed like cranberries, vibrant and soft, nearly wet with a gleam of glossy white paint and varnish. Even the single strands of hair hugged his face in such a familiar way that it made him lift his hand, touching his own bangs in surprise.

"This drawing-" Silas began, his fingers brushing against the man's almond eyes, the particular shape only belonging to those of elven heritage. The lines in the drawing were deeply embedded into the page, as if they were carved in wood, repeatedly drawn to the page with a fervent persistence that made Silas take pause. "Is this… me?"

The man felt like an apparition of his past self, like a reminder of the nearly thirteen years that had passed since his first arrival. The piece was like a slip of forgotten history, undiscovered by the rebels, locked away tightly like a reminder for Silas to uncover later. It was surprising. I'm flattered he painted me so beautifully. Silas coughed lightly as dust danced around him, feeling someone red in the face by such a lovely piece. He felt far too old to hold a candle to his younger self now, however. 

"No-" As if he knew it would be something embarrassing, Clarence shot up from where he had been looking, nearly flustered. "Don't touch that!" As his eyes laid on the book, he seemed filled with energy, stumbling to his feet as he ran to Silas. 

The more Clarence attempted to grab the journal from his hands, the more Silas moved away, until the two were nearly dancing around the room. The prince's arms, though longer and stronger than Silas's, were no match for Silas's nimble movements. Silas skimmed the pages, his eyes moving over the sketches, having looked to be drawn with religious reverence, before one page made him stop, leading Clarence to wrap one arm around his waist as the other hand held the book. 

"Aha!" Clarence let out a resounding laugh, his arm firmly holding Silas in place. "What are you looking at-" As he looked at the sketchbook, still held in Silas's hand and his own, the prince fell silent, his lips twisted into a puzzled frown before he used his thumb to hold the book in place. "My drawings-"

This can't be my old sketchbook. The previous gouges and ink scratches were nowhere to be seen. Rather, each drawing was wrapped with a trace of light, having appeared to have been drawn with the tenderness of a master artist. The missing pages and burns were no longer visible, to the point that Clarence had to ask himself, Is this really my sketchbook? Hadn't it been burned long ago?

Watching Clarence's expression shift, Silas patted the prince's hand and said with a note of interest, "This book is reeking with mana… your mana, Clarence." He sniffed aloud, leaning closer to the book. "It's not strong, but it's nearly clinging to the pages… is this yours? Are all these drawings… me?"

"The drawings are… from my memory of you. After you saved me." He said distantly, embarrassed, holding the book with his arm still around Silas. He coughed lightly as he changed the subject, "And my mana has been sealed since I was a baby, so I don't know much about my elven side." He continued, staring over the sketchbook's cover. "Even my natural appearance was influenced by it. That's what Meredith told me."

Sitting still, allowing Clarence to hold him, Silas responded, "Even as a child, it seems your mana was leaking out of your body. Maybe it was on purpose? Elves cannot live without mana." Patting Clarence's hand with his own, Silas added, "It's no wonder your health was so poor when you were young." 

"Maybe those times as a child… those times I went mad, maybe they were caused by a disruption of mana in my body." Staring towards Silas, Clarence's eyes were red, and he bit his lip, his voice nearly full of grievance. "If I had known I was an elf earlier, maybe… all of this could have been prevented." 

Still in Clarence's arms, Silas shook his head, "Knowing what we know now… we can do better for ourselves and the kingdom."

"My attitude towards you back then, too. I revered you like a god, not understanding that you are human, and have flaws, just like me." He swallowed, his gaze full of grievance as he spoke genuinely. "I'm sorry, Silas. My past hatred for you, it was unfounded."

The two separated slightly, now turned face to face. "I should say the same thing, Clarence," Silas smiled lightly, the conversation filled with a cathartic release of emotions, softening their hearts as they spoke of the deep tension they had once harbored. "If I was told the two of us would end up in a relationship like this, I would've never believed it."

While Silas appeared relaxed, Clarence thought to himself for a short moment before he pounced, finding now to be the only time they could speak so candidly. Silas had been too shy to say what had been hiding deep in his thoughts. He could only prod it for his lover, wishing him nothing but joy rather than pain. "Lately, Silas, you've been looking so worried, like you might cry." Clarence said, holding Silas's shoulders with his hands as he finally spoke, "What's going on?"

"That-" A pregnant pause filled the space between them, making even the dust particles dancing around them fall still as Silas looked towards the prince, a trace of sorrow in his eyes, abruptly changing the subject. "Clarence, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

The grief in Silas's expression was enough to warn Clarence. Reaching forward with his free hand, he took Silas's hand and asked tepidly, a faint trace of worry hanging on his words like a noose. "What is it, Silas?" Fear set in the bottom of his chest, unsure what words were to come.

"I-" Speaking felt suffocating. The words he wished to say were lingering on the tip of his tongue like a lead weight. "I'm leaving the palace soon. Maeir and I, we're returning home… To the Faelfier Kingdom."

…

All, it's been two months. I missed you ;A; Being back and writing this chapter was so cathartic and emotional. The ending is coming much clearer to me, and I feel rejuvenated writing-wise. This break was well needed.

Also, this girlie quit her day job! I'm so grateful to my friends and family for taking care of me while I transitioned out of my past job. I was living at work, but I have now moved out and have dealt with the severe sense of discombobulation. (Will not miss being called a bitch //sigh) I got very, very sick after putting in my notice, and I'm still dealing with minor acid reflux, which has been getting better with each day. Everything came to a screeching halt for my health, so I'm so happy to be back to things. I'm still working, but no longer working two jobs and additional gigs. It still feels strange to have free time. Now I can learn the trumpet!

For now, I'm going to try to be as on time as possible for updates, but I can't guarantee anything yet. Thank you all again for following along with YMtK, all! Much love to you all for your kindness and patience!! ;u;

EDIT: CHECK OUT THE NEW COVER I PAINTED~