28. Jealousy

Tariq finished getting himself ready, tying his hair up in a ponytail and throwing a Prussian blue tricorn hat on his head to cover the bandages. A triple-layered black fur cape took the place of the college's black robe. A travel bag in dark leather containing his most intimate belongings and a few changes of clothing rested on his bed.

The prince stared at Filip who sat on the edge of his own bed. He was lost in his thoughts, his fingers entangled as he twiddled his thumbs. His skin was still the colour of a candle. He was also ready to leave for his home for the weekend, but was dressed just decently enough to leave the campus. Even his hair was down and uncombed, creating a heavy dark frame around his haggard semblance.

“Look, Svoboda… If you want to talk about yesterday...go ahead”

The other boy stared at him for a few seconds. He swallowed, nodding and looking down again.

“Th-than... y...ou.” He grimaced, massaging his throat with his index and middle fingers.

“I'll help you with your bag. Let's go.”

Svoboda took Tariq’s hand when it was offered, miserably standing and walking towards the door at the pace of an elderly man.

Tariq picked up Filip's bag and his own, leaving the bedroom and locking the door behind them.

***

If there were food in Heaven, Joseph was sure this pie would be served there.

*Jesus Christ, this is so good!*

How much time had passed since he had tasted chocolate pie? Months?

*Almost a year, actually... Even back home, father would never let us “indulge” in sweets, as he used to say.*

Nonetheless, he had never eaten any pie quite like this one. But after all the misfortune of the fading week, including two broken limbs and almost falling out of the good graces of the prince...

*Maybe this is a good omen, eh...?*

"Oh! Someone seems to be enjoying himself..."

Joseph looked up at the voice and saw Tariq setting his bag down. He smiled with his mouth still full of chocolate, his cheeks rosy in anticipation for the weekend, the first time he’d felt that way since he arrived in Bohemia.

The prince was the first guest he’d ever had, and now was the first time he would be there after being somewhat properly invited.

*Please, God, let everything go well this time.*

He heard the sound of a chair being slowly pulled out in front of him.

Svoboda was taking his seat. He gazed at the doctor, his hands folded on the table close to his chest.

*He looks terrible… All dishevelled, those sunken eyes... I never thought I would ever see him like this.*

He noticed Filip ogling his chocolate pie.

Joseph frowned, swallowing his mouthful.

"Want some?" He moved the plate towards the brunette boy, already cutting a piece with the fork.

"Oh. No, thank you."

*Good. It's not like I wanted to share anyway.*

The doctor was thankful for Svoboda’s help when the prince broke his hand, and happy that he was safe now, but that was all.

"I have a long trip ahead, so I hope you don't mind if I eat."

Tariq had arrived, sitting in a chair close to Joseph and placing a plate with five large filled croissants down. He promptly started to eat them with his bare hands.

"Wow... Wh...re are your manners, You...r Highness?" Filip asked, his voice husky. He coughed several times, massaging his throat.

"Up the ass of the one who asked for them."

Joseph raised his head, utterly shocked. Svoboda was staring at Tariq, seeming exasperated.

Then he and the prince burst out laughing.

“Yo...u…” Filip let out a loud cough, “Go...t me!"

The prince laughed harder in response.

Joseph stared down at his plate, just a bit of the pie remaining. His forehead wrinkled as his expression darkened.

*Seems they really do get along well… Maybe… Maybe that’s why the prince was so adamant about rescuing him.*

Suddenly, the pie started to taste bitter and became difficult to keep down. Joseph pushed his plate away, knocking it into Tariq's.

The laughter ceased, and both boys stared at him.

"Eh...are you alright?” the prince asked, staring at the remainder of the pie, which was now almost invading his own plate.

"Yes, I'm full. Thank you for the meal."

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose.

*After everything he’s done… After all I DID, you still want to befriend him?*

Then Joseph remembered Filip had taken him to the infirmary, and saved his belongings. And, according to Prince Tariq, had fought with Honza because he chose to be kind to Joseph.

Even if it was purely out of self-interest...he still ended up having to deal with the consequences.

A wave of regret spread through Joseph’s chest when he saw the boys silent now, staring at each other and at him, seemingly wondering if they had done something wrong.

*Come now, you fool, don't make a scene. Not again. You falsely believed yourself special because you wanted it to be true. You really have no right to decide who he's friends with.*

Joseph’s face paled when he put his head down and noticed Honza Dvorák approaching, puffing like a horse, accompanied by Matej and Krk as always. The dean’s son was staring at Filip as he was going on about carriages with the prince, whose mouth was full of his third croissant.

Before the doctor could even begin to warn the other boys, Honza was already there, right behind the prince, his face red and his eyes nearly popping from their sockets.

"YOU! We need to talk! NOW!"

Svoboda and Prince Tariq slowly turned towards the outburst. Joseph watched Filip's expression darken as he frowned in pain, turning away.

"This is becoming embarrassing, mate.” Tariq replied.

"I'm not talking to you, Gypsy Prince!"

"I d...nt want t... talk, n...w,” Filip answered, coughing loudly. An especially ugly grimace passed across his face as he massaged his throat.

"What the hell happened to you? You look like rubbish!" Honza slowly glanced over at Joseph. "See? This is what you get, hanging around with scum like Smelly Selden."

Tariq stood up like a storm, overturning his chair. He put himself in front of Dvorák, his face just a few centimetres away, murder in his eyes.

"Get out of here. NOW."

"Oh! So sweet! Are you angry because I said your little crippled friend smells like a dead rat?"

Joseph saw Filip staring at nothing, his eyes cloudy and lost. He remembered his epilepsy, and that stress and tension could trigger attacks. Surely he wasn't talking to Honza now, and all the drama he was stirring up in his name was already unsettling for everyone else, let alone for Filip.

*Oh no! What am I supposed to do?*

Even though Svoboda was far from his favourite person, it was his *duty* as a doctor to ensure the comfort of people who were ill.

Tariq’s body was stiff, his fists clenched. One more word from Honza and he would explode. And that was *exactly* what that asshole wanted, perhaps to try to accuse Tariq of violence inside the campus.

Joseph stared at the remains of his chocolate pie. Looking up again, he noticed Honza and his two lackeys had their backs turned to him.

Joseph grabbed a bit of the pie, throwing it at Honza’s hair with all his strength. The boy jerked forward, the viscous brown glob sliding through his bright hair.

After collecting his bearings, he turned to Joseph, his mouth and eyebrows deformed in pure rage.

“You're going to regret that! YOU FUCKING BEGGAR!”

As soon as he and his two dogs began to walk in Joseph’s direction, however, the prince grabbed the rest of the pie. Pulling Honza by his collar, he smashed it into his hair, spreading it across his face.

"You like to wallow in mud, huh? Why am I not surprised?"

Before Dvorák could even recover from the shock, Tariq grabbed the bags, pulling Joseph and Filip up, and left, raising his middle finger at Honza without even looking back.