Reciprocated love

Francis walked in the early morning as he used to do among the fresh, damp grass which covered the verdant royal garden.

That morning was December 23dh 1730, three months after the death of his younger half-brother.

Time had passed, but the wound in him had never healed.

Time had passed and with time also the interest of the man for the daily visits to his tombstone.

Francis was twenty and had been in the British army for four years now.

He was twenty years old and had been rejected by far too many people now, even to the point of annihilating any slightest interest he had in Gilbert.

So he wanted to believe, so he at least wanted to hope, but for Francis that intriguing man had become almost his addiction for several years.

It was difficult to give up, so difficult to say no to the man he had loved for a long time.

He promptly thought of other things as he walked: he thought of the war, of all the lives he had taken away in the name of his homeland, he thought that in this way, he had destroyed millions of Gaelic families.

And then he remembered the pain he felt at seeing his brother's death and he wondered then what was so different about his own mourning and mourning that the war had long brought so many people.

Francis was tired, he was simply tired of fighting, of killing, of seeming to everyone to be a hero, when he was just a miserable killer.

But as he already believed: it was impossible to end an addiction in a short time, and his life on the battlefield had also become his by now. The adrenaline that was expressed, the great fear that his life would end, wondering what was next, were all things that intrigued him a lot.

And after all in battle no difference was made any more if the son of a noble or a humble fisherman, their life each had a fair and equal value and side by side they fought for their survival.

Francis Hoover walked relentlessly, he had a goal in his head and at that point he would have realised it: he would soon reach Gilbert and would finally end the relationship that still connected them.

And as he walked and kept thinking he realised how wrong his main approach was and on his side and even if he wanted to, he didn't feel quite ready to sever any relationship he had with Gilbert.

Although not as a couple, at least as friends.

Maybe his father was right he thought, perhaps it was a necessary sacrifice to leave behind the one he loved for a brighter future.

On the other hand, Francis was the son of a marquis, he could have done millions of things: he could have continued his studies in the most prestigious universities or traveled the whole world if only he had wanted.

But he couldn't help it, he really loved that man, and even if his mind advised him to give up, his heart commanded him the opposite.

However, he knew he was going through a dead end: soon Gilbert would be officially crowned as prince and in the following days the man would be married to the beautiful and young princess Isabelle.

With this conviction Francis knocked on the door.

He knew that Gilbert was in there, he had never seen him outside the castle, and maybe for the early morning time the general was still sleeping.

But contrary to what Francis believed, it didn't take more than just a few seconds before the man decided to open the door.

Gilbert stood there, with one of his elbows pressed firmly against the door jamb. He wore no night-rest shirt, but only a pair of fine white trousers.

Francis noticed him.

Gilbert was a few tens of centimetres taller than him, but it could be clearly seen from the untidiness of his dark red hair and the tiredness in his eyes, that the man hadn't been awake for a long time.

It didn't took more than a few seconds before the future prince consort noticed the presence of his dear friend, and immediately his tiredness turned into a redness all over the general's face.

Noticing this, Francis's face also blushed slightly, covering his freckled cheeks.

-I'm sorry to have to disturb you here, Gilbert- Francis admitted slowly caressing the tail of wavy caramel coloured hair that fell on the nape of his neck -but I still wouldn't have been able to find peace if I couldn't talk to you-.

At those sincere words the general seemed to understand and so he moved his own body from the center of the door.

-So please- Gilbert added asking his friend to come in -come in and let's talk, if this can help you...-.

Francis was beginning not to understand, but he understood that it would be suspicious for the others to see two young men communicate in the very early morning, on the threshold of a door.

Once he had entered Gilbert gently closed the door behind them, trying to create as little noise as possible.

- You say - the future prince began to speak, turning to his friend - have you come this far to talk to me about the kiss, that of the evening of the great ball? -.

Francis at the very idea took an embarrassed pallor.

-Not exactly- he finally admitted -I came this far to talk to you, about our relationship in general-.

-Well- continued Gilbert, taking his place on a fine chair of soft purple velvet - I also intended to do it ...-.

At those unexpected words Francis resumed on his face the typical blush of someone who is embarrassed.

But the embarrassment was soon covered by the doubts and endless questions that began to arise in his head.

Was it possible that Gilbert felt something for him too? Was what he had to tell him just a rebuke or the end of their long and fraternal friendship?

He did not know, he knew nothing of this, he felt sensations growing inside him, he felt something in his body accompanied by goosebumps.

He could only wait, listen and pray that what came out of the man's tight lips were only positive news.

-I thought a lot about the kiss that night and so, over time, I came to a conclusion- Gilbert continued to speak slowly -I loved it Francis, I felt alive in that moment with you ... -.

The young man blushed more, leaving on his face a real contrast to the dark freckles that covered his cheeks and part of his nose.

-You mean that ... that you like me? - Francis asked trying to keep calm.

-I don't know what this kind of feeling it is, it's like I realised in a moment that my love for the female gender is equal to that with you, Francis. I kind of always felt like this, but I just didn't know how to express it myself...- admitted the general joining his gaze to the dark eyes of the young man on the other side of the room.

Francis felt an unjustified anger rise inside him. How could an almost married man, a prince consort, betray his wife just before marriage?

So he clenched his fists and blew all his anger out of his own mouth.

-I don't love you Gilbert, not anymore, not like that- Francis said in anger - betraying your wife even before being married, how can you do such a thing? -.

The general slowly shook his head, turning his gaze to the marble and white floor, losing all blush from his face.

-I know you don't think what you are saying Francis, these are not your words, but those of your father- the man finally admitted getting up from his chair and slowly approaching his friend who, almost as if frightened by this gesture, took a few steps back.

-What? - Francis whispered, almost as if panicked.

-I know that your father does not accept you for who you are, I know what he did to you: I know your frightened gaze, the threats, the blows on your skin- Gilbert admitted, grabbing the other's wrist firmly and pushing him hard against the wall -he is a lord and you are nothing but an illegitimate son for him-.

Francis was feeling fear as the intimidating and deep grey eyes of the future prince met his.

-Live your life Francis, live it as you want, this life is yours and you are not your father- the man admitted taking a certain blush on his face and further bringing his lips closer to those of the other man.

-What do you intend to do now? - asked Francis rebelling and trying in vain to free himself from that position and move away from the wall.

But no matter how much he tried to shift his grip from the man's strong hands, Gilbert continued to persuade him.

-I want to kiss you very badly Francis, I want to spend time with you, to have some time in intimacy. I know you are still a virgin Francis, please, lose it with me- Gilbert added as his lips touched the other's again.

It didn't take long before both Francis and him relaxed their movements and grips as they kissed and slowly prepared to spend some private time together.

Moreover, Gilbert had already closed the door and so no one would have been able to interrupt what was happening in the room.

Their pants were already lying on the cold floor. They did not know that their greatest enemy, was directly next to them.

In fact, the room of the Dustin twins was adjacent to that of the future prince and at that moment, while Dickon was still spending his time sleeping, William, in search of incriminating evidence, was already awake.

And as he was able to hear what the two lovers were saying, he was completely delighted to know that whatever he was eavesdropping at that moment would soon serve in his defence for the revenge he wanted for his cousin.

It was only when the first rays of the sun broke out in the blue sky that Gilbert decided to get out of bed again.

They had spent time with Francis, and in that moment he had completely lost the calculation of what time it was.

He thus left his tired companion still sleeping in his bed and moved in the direction of his own window, in order to observe the time from the golden and massive hands of the clock tower.

At a guess, in any case, the sun must have risen less than an hour ago, leading the man to believe that it could not be more than seven o'clock.

And so it was, opening the window, that Gilbert counted on the clock no longer seven o'clock, but rather seven thirty.

It was late, and he knew it, but he was still sure since the attendants would not be on duty until a quarter past eight.

He therefore had to find the time and the way to get Francis out of his room without anyone seeing or suspecting anything about the night spent together.

He looked at his face, he was dozing, sleeping blissfully, with his wavy caramel-brown hair tousled and almost curly surrounding his face.

He noticed how his lover slept peacefully, with his head resting well on the soft and white pillow and the reddened and partly heated colour on the pale face that almost contrasted with the darkness of the freckles that covered his cheeks.

Gilbert knew it would be hard, but he had to send him away from his room, he couldn't risk more. That was the day on which Gilbert would be crowned prince and the next day the day of his actual wedding.

-Francis- he said weakly shaking one of the young man's shoulders -Wake up, please, it's already late and soon my attendants will be here to prepare me for the coronation-.

His partner slowly opened his hazel brown eyes and it didn't take long before he got back into a sitting position on the bed.

-Your coronation! - Francis exclaimed blushing as billions of wavy and disheveled light hair surrounded his face.

-It must already be very late ...- he commented getting out of bed and putting on his dark pants again and lacing his white shirt on his chest -sorry, it is all my fault, I fell asleep too late-.

At those words Gilbert lightly placed a hand on his partner's shoulder and sincerely smiled, looking at him.

-You are beautiful and perfect, Francis- commented leaving a quick kiss on the young man's cheek.

At those words Francis blushed again of a bright and happy blush. He soon looked at the grey and lively eyes of the general and granted him a strong hug full of love.

The general smiled briefly and slightly pushed his lover's shoulders and body away from him, returning to look into his brown eyes.

-You must go- Gilbert begged him -you don't want my attendants to find us here together, do you?-.

At those words Francis weakly nodded and grabbing his jacket with majestic and swift agility he quickly disappeared from the huge room.

He left the door open, and no one could imagine that would be one of the biggest mistakes.

So it was that Gilbert began to approach the precious and large porcelain bowl, in order to rinse his face.

He grabbed the cool and pleasant water with two hands, threw it quickly on his face, did so and repeated his action for at least another couple of times, before something, even colder than the water itself, began to settle on his throat.

The general slowly raised his face from the basin, until he could perceive under his throat a long and sharp dagger, with a gold handle and the edge of the blade of a silver so pure and so smooth and shiny.

Gilbert knew that there could be only one of the houses at court that could afford such wealth and fortune.

-Say- Gilbert began to speak cautiously -tell me, are you a Dustin?-.

The man felt the cold silver of the dagger settle even closer to his throat.

-You are perceptive my general, and you also know very well who I am- commented the other, promptly holding the sharp knife to his throat.

-You have an identical twin, I can not imagine if you are William or Dickon Dustin and I do not even dare to think about the reason for this unpleasant misunderstanding- Gilbert finished talking, leaving the probable killer with more tension and anger inside him.

-My name is William Dustin and my brother has nothing to do with it, this is a matter between you and me- continued the other, loosening slightly the grip from the man's throat.

-You are here for your cousin, for Abigail, but more specifically for the baby growing inside her, aren't you? - Gilbert tried to guess with intent to put as much anger on William as possible -if that's what you're wondering ,that the story is true, I confirm that I am the father of the child- Gilbert admitted.

-You really suck, she is fifteen and you let her raise a child by herself, the Dustin house is well known for its centuries-old justice, and this is what I am willing to do- William scolded him talking between his teeth and angrily pushing the dagger next to the man's throat.

-If that's what you want, William, go ahead, slit my throat from side to side, it doesn't concern me, but if you call this justice: if you call justice, take a man's life, then go ahead and kill me- he said leaving him perplexity and more anger.

At those words in any case, the count decided slowly to remove the sharp weapon from the throat of the other and regain the calm that had abandoned him.

Gilbert looked away, saw William's perplexity, saw fear in his eyes.

His fiery red hair was pushed back over his head by William's own hand and his brown eyes were frightened.

Gilbert believed, or wanted to hope that all of this was actually the end of a big misunderstanding, but he could hardly hope as he saw a tight smile arise on the arrogant face of the opponent.

-The motto of Ireland, of my homeland, Gilbert, is "Our day will come", and so it will be for us, the day of glory will come for us and the despair of our adversaries- William began to provoke having the reins of the speech in his hands.

-You know Gilbert...this morning I had the pleasure of hearing your alleged love affair with the Marquis Francis Hoover- he admitted continuing undaunted in terrifying the future prince even more. At these words the general acquired on his own I face a further pallor.

-Maybe in the end you are right, perhaps ending your life will not bring me justice, but saying the truth in front of Princess Isabelle will certainly bring me your head- admitted William Dustin smiling.