Prince Daniel was, by any measure, an exceptionally capable man. Compared with his father, the king, he was far wiser and far more competent, and because his father so often felt overwhelmed by the weight of royal responsibility, Daniel had gradually taken control of most of the kingdom's affairs himself. Even in war he had proven to be an outstanding leader, and enemy kingdoms had learned what it cost to test him.
Sitting alone in the dark garden, thinking about all of this, Lenhard admitted the truth to himself. He had not come to this kingdom for political reasons at all. He had come because he wanted to meet Prince Daniel in person.
He remembered the first time they met. He remembered the strange feeling that had gone through him in that moment, and how he had explained it away. At first he had believed he was simply struck by Daniel's beauty — that it was nothing more than the ordinary reaction of a man looking at something rare. Eventually he had been forced to understand what it actually was.
He had fallen in love.
Even then he had gone on arguing with himself, insisting that his feelings were caused by an appearance and nothing deeper, and had tried to turn his attention to other things. And then Daniel — the man he believed was Daniel — had walked away across the hall, and Lenhard's body had simply followed him, without asking permission from anything.
The first time I saw him, Lenhard thought, with the blood rising in his face, I thought an angel had come down out of heaven.
Now he knew better. Now he only knew that he wanted to keep looking at him forever.
Meanwhile, Royal had finally reached the end of the banquet and the blessed emptiness that came after it, and had allowed himself the thought that he might at last get some rest.
Then a butler arrived and informed him that the emperor wished to see him again.
Royal nearly choked on his tea. Someone, he begged internally, let me rest. Just once.
The butler, seeing his expression, offered cautiously to inform the emperor that His Highness was unavailable.
"No," Royal said reluctantly, setting down the cup. "No, I'll go."
The days passed, and Lenhard came to see him every single one of them. Royal grew steadily more bewildered about why the ruler of another empire would want to spend all of his time in the company of a prince he barely knew.
One day Lenhard studied the shadows under his eyes and asked softly, "Has my presence become a burden to you?"
"Not at all," Royal said at once. "Having you here is an honor."
Then leave, he thought, deep inside where it was safe. If you understand how tired I am, why don't you simply go?
Lenhard, hearing only the words, was quietly delighted. He believed it meant Royal liked him at least a little.
But Royal himself was troubled, and the trouble had nothing to do with exhaustion. He was not the real prince. He could not understand why all of these complicated feelings and situations kept landing on him while the real Daniel was somewhere else entirely, and he complained bitterly to himself that he had asked Daniel for help many times now and the prince had done absolutely nothing.
Still the two of them went on meeting in the garden. And before anyone quite noticed it, Lenhard had been a guest in the kingdom for an entire month.
Seeing that, Daniel finally had no choice but to come home.
"Why," he said, the moment he arrived, "have you been calling me over and over again? I've been extremely busy."
Royal's face lit up. "No reason. I only wanted a small break. I'll be going now—"
"Stop." Daniel caught him. "Explain yourself properly. And I'll remind you that the mercenary side is in the middle of a war right now, so if you leave here you'll only be walking into worse trouble."
"Staying in this palace," Royal said flatly, "is far more dangerous than any battlefield."
Daniel stared at him, thoroughly confused. "How difficult can escorting one person possibly be? Tell me about the emperor. What exactly—"
But Royal had already gone.
Afterward Daniel went and fetched the notebook. They had created it years ago so that neither of them would make mistakes while pretending to be the other: every conversation, every promise, every small thing that had happened while one of them wore the other's face. He read through the entries about the emperor's visit, and grew slowly suspicious, because there was nothing in them. Almost every exchange recorded there was an entirely ordinary interaction between a visiting ruler and a host prince.
And yet the atmosphere that came up off the page was strangely intimate.
He could not work out why it bothered him so much. Eventually he gave up on the paperwork altogether and went to rest instead.
The next morning the butler informed him that he had rested quite enough, and that Emperor Lenhard wished to have dinner with him. Daniel agreed, prepared himself, and went to meet the man.
He greeted Lenhard politely. To his surprise, Lenhard personally pulled out a chair for him.
Daniel laughed awkwardly. "I must be the first person on the entire continent to have a chair pulled out for him by an emperor."
"You are," Lenhard said, smiling warmly. "You truly are the first person I have ever done that for."
Daniel went pale.
They ate. Partway through the meal Lenhard set down his glass, and his expression changed, and he said, seriously, "It feels as though I am speaking to an entirely different person."
Daniel very nearly panicked outright. "A cold," he said quickly. "I caught a cold recently. That's probably why I seem different."
Inside, he was terrified. Had the man somehow discovered the truth? Even his own father and his own brother had never once figured out their secret. Not once in two years.
Lenhard noticed how pale he had become and softened immediately. "Forgive me. I only asked because you have looked exhausted lately."
"You're very kind to worry," Daniel said, and worked hard to make the mood light again.
But Lenhard was deeply conflicted now. It was not only Daniel's way of speaking. It was his attitude, his manner, the shape of his attention — all of it felt like another person entirely.
And there was something worse, something Lenhard could barely stand to look at directly. His heart no longer raced the way it used to when he was with Daniel. He knew that he loved him. He was certain of that. And yet something in it had gone empty.
Later the two of them walked together through the garden again, talking peacefully, and Lenhard looked at him and said, "That outfit suits you. You look beautiful in it."
Daniel became nervous instantly. Outwardly he thanked the emperor politely. Inwardly he was in complete disarray, and demanded of himself why this man's words and gentle smiles should affect him at all.
Then Lenhard reached out and touched his face.
Daniel froze where he stood.
"There was a flower petal," Lenhard explained calmly, showing it to him between two fingers. "I couldn't stop myself from taking it away."