A Prince's Pride

*Milo*

I’m frozen in fear, still staring out through the crack in the door at Criston. He walks to the parapet and looks down. When he turns and I see the satisfied smirk on his face, I feel a fire ignite inside me. When Criston starts to walk out the door, I slam it into him, sending him sprawling backward. He lands on his back, hard.

I walk around the door and, before he can get up, throw myself upon him. I’m thankful he isn’t wearing armor as I clench my legs on either side of his body. I’m furious at myself for not trusting Aaron, not trusting Corianne, and I have a perfect outlet for that fury beneath me.

My fists pummel every inch of Criston I can reach. I feel my knuckles crack as I jam my fist into his nose and a torrent of blood drenches him. I see him reach for his sword and bring my elbow down into his throat, then grab the hilt. His hand clenches around my own.

We grapple for it for a moment before it unlodges from its scabbard and our combined efforts cause it to be flung to the side, hit the parapet, and lay out of reach.

“Get off, you fucking faggot!” shouts Criston.

I see red. I let out a guttural roar of fury as I land blow after blow after blow. Criston is able to twist his body, knocking me off him. He scrambles, apparently half blinded by the blood on his face, toward his sword.

I know I’ll never reach it and I know he’ll cut me down if he grabs it. While he makes his way toward his weapon, I turn and start running down the stairs of North Tower.

I can hear Criston behind me, but he’s moving slower than he should be. I must have messed him up pretty badly. Good. 

When I reach the corridor that leads to the rest of the castle, I run full out, faster than I ever have, fueled by my adrenaline.

“Come back here, Milo!” roars Criston, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.

I turn a corner and duck behind a tapestry that conceals a hidden passage way which runs along this wall.

I don’t know where he is, but I need to find Aaron and I need to find the King. I have to warn them about the attack. 

When I burst out of the tapestry at the end of the passage, I run right into two guards, who start to draw their weapons until they recognize me.

“Milo? What’s the matter?” one of them asks.

“Aaron…” I say, clutching a stitch in my side. “The King…where are they? I…must see them…at once…”

“Come with us,” says the other guard. “We’ll escort you there.”

*Aaron*

I think it's finally time I told my father the truth about everything. Me and Milo, Corianne, Criston, everything. 

Emboldened by my mother's reaction and her presence as we make our way to my father in his private study, I try rehearsing something in my head. 

All I have so far is, "Father, I'm gay, and I'm in love with Milo."

Both of which are true, but I don't think it encapsulates the scope of everything. I need to tell him, point blank, that I refuse to marry Corianne. Our marriage would doom the four of us, Corianne and Criston, and me and Milo, to misery. I will not do it. 

We stop outside the door to my father's study and pause. I know my mother is letting me take the lead on this, but she puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me. It's this act that allows me to lift my arm and knock on the door. 

"Enter!" calls my father through the door. I open it, and both my mother and I step inside.

"Ah, Aaron, Elaine, this is a pleasant surprise,” says my father. He was standing at his study window, looking out over the city. He crosses the room and stands before us.

"Father, I'm gay," I say. I had meant for there to be some kind of lead up to this, but I guess there's no point now. "I'm gay and I love Milo and I'm not marrying Corianne. The wedding is off."

My father stares at me unblinkingly for five solid seconds, then throws his head back and laughs. 

"Theodore!" admonishes my mother. 

"I've missed your sense of humor," says my father, wiping a tear from his eye. "You've been so serious of late. I was wondering if you'd ever—” he trails off when he sees the look on my face. "You're serious?"

"I am," I say, nodding. "Milo and I have been dating for two years now. We're in love."

"But…he's a servant…" says my father in disbelief. "Not to mention, what of the woman he met in the capital?"

"That was a lie. Corianne discovered us and he was worried what you would do to him if she told you."

"He was worried?" My father sounds upset. "I would never hurt Milo."

I can't believe he's okay with my being gay and that he isn't planning on hurting Milo. My heart lifts at this, but then my father keeps speaking.

"Of course, you can never see him again," he says. 

"Excuse me?" I ask, outraged. 

"Aaron, if this were a simple matter of you sleeping with him, it would be a different story. Although, maybe it wouldn't matter. Corianne knows about you two, you say? When you two get married, you can sleep with him if she's okay with it."

"Father, I don't want to marry Corianne."

"And yet, you must. You cannot let your love for Milo get in the way of doing your duty to the Crown."

"You love Mother," I say. "Yet your love doesn't get in the way of your duty?"

"Aaron," he says slowly, clearly trying to calm me down, but it doesn't work. 

"It's because he's a man, isn't it? I thought you didn't care!"

“Aaron,” he repeats. “It’s not because he’s a man. It’s because you’re the prince. A prince’s duty is to find a queen and sire children. To continue the Royal Family’s legacy. As I’m sure you’re aware, two men cannot sire children.”

“I won’t marry Corianne, Father,” I say.

“Then you leave me no choice. If you won’t do your duty, I will prevent you from seeing Milo. It’s the only way—”

But I don’t stay to listen. I turn on my heel and march from my father’s study. 

Just a few paces down the corridor, I’m approached by one of the palace guards.

“Your Highness,” she says with a small inclination of her head. “Milo is looking for you. He seemed flustered about something.”

“Do you know where he is?” I ask.

“I believe he was heading to the Lady Corianne’s room, sir, but that was a while ago.”

“Thank you,” I tell her and turn around to walk the other way. I hope this isn’t bad news. I want to believe he trusts Corianne, but this could easily be him leveling another accusation against her.

Maybe I should just marry Corianne. True, it’s not ideal, but I know my father won’t let this go. If I don’t marry Corianne, would he exile Milo?

When I approach Corianne’s room, I find a guard standing outside it.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” he says as I draw near. “If you’re looking for Lady Corianne, she and Milo left some time ago.”

“Do you know where they were headed?”

“No, Your Highness, but I—”

The guard’s words are cut off as a klaxon sounds outside.

“What the?” I ask, but Oswald grabs me by the arm.

“Come, Your Highness, we must get to the throne room.”

This is just procedure, of course. Unless we have reason to believe the palace is compromised, the Royal Family meets in the throne room during times of emergency. I have to put Milo out of my head for now. He knows the procedure. He’ll meet me in the throne room.

*Milo*

I’m walking down the corridor leading to Aaron’s room one of the guards by me for my protection. Once I told them about Criston, the other left us to alert the rest of the guards in the palace. Criston must be stopped. The guard who left us is also going to warn the guards not to sound the alarm when Corianne’s body is found. If they do, the attack will commence. 

The guard and I stop when the klaxon sounds. We look at each other. The guard who left us must have failed. He didn’t make it in time. 

I feel my body turn and automatically head toward the throne room. That’s where Aaron and the King will be. I have to warn them of Criston. The guards have to find him. I know from what Criston said that the attack on Crown City has begun. Even now, I’m sure there are soldiers emerging from the same carriages that halted my journey to the palace.

How many citizens are going to die? How many soldiers are in the city? 

A ringing realization shoots through my body. Criston said they were going to kill the Royal Family. He’s been in the palace all this time. Suddenly, I’m worried for Aaron’s life. I break out into a run, following the familiar corridor’s toward the throne room, closely followed by the guard I ran into. As I approach, a guard recognizes me and throws the doors open.

Inside, I find Aaron and his father on their thrones. Guards surround them, protecting them. I don’t see Princess Riley or Queen Elaine anywhere. Aaron leaves his throne and comes to meet me.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, looking me over. I must look horrible. I see his eyes on my hands and look at them. They’re covered in blood. “What’s happened?”

He doesn’t know. I have to tell him.

“Aaron,” I say, my voice breaking. “She’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?”

“Corianne. Aaron, Corianne is dead.”

I tell him quickly about what I saw at the top of North Tower. I didn’t realize I was speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear me, but they do. Now, everyone in the throne room knows that Criston killed her and that both the Red Hand and Lower Reach have invaded the capital.

There’s a disturbance near the door, which bursts open. A Lower Reach SOA is standing there. I see the spear as it leaves their hand, heading for the King.

I don’t know what comes over me. I’m closest to the King, standing at the dais. The SOA’s aim is true. 

I throw myself at the spear.

*Aaron*

I watch, as if in slow motion, Milo running toward the flying spear. My heart plummets into my stomach and twists. I can’t move for fear. I’m going to watch my boyfriend die, saving my father, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Thankfully, Milo isn’t so fast he’s impaled upon the spear. Instead, he collides with the side of it and sends it veering off course. It misses my father, and lands by now vacant throne. By the time my eyes return to the SOA, I see they’re dead on the ground, an arrow in their eye.

“You saved my life,” says my father, looking at Milo. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Milo gasps, clutching his side. I move to him and see his shirt is ripped, a mark on his side from the wooden spear handle. He isn’t bleeding, but it looks painful.

“Are you okay?” I ask him. I decide not to reveal to the entire room that we’re together, so I restrain myself. Also, Milo doesn’t yet know I’ve told my father about us. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. How did they get in here?”

“That’s a good point, my king,” says Sir Octavio Delgara, my father’s sworn protector, “perhaps we should leave the throne room. I don’t believe it’s safest here.”

“Nonsense,” says my father. “The throne room is the most heavily fortified place in the pal—”

BOOM!

An eruption sounds somewhere in the city, close enough that I feel the floor of the throne room shake. In unison, all of our eyes look out the window to see a large black cloud billowing into the sky.

Together, Oswald and I walk to the window. One of the guards’ barracks stands, half blown apart, half burning, in the Upper Ring of the city. As my eyes scan the rest of Crown City, I see citizens running for their lives, soldiers chasing after them. From here, it’s impossible to tell what soldiers belong to who, except for the members of the Red Hand, whose armor is splattered with red. Or maybe it’s just blood.

As I’m watching, another explosion erupts with a BOOM and I see a building, it’s purpose unknown to me, explode.

“Your Majesty, watch—” comes a cry from the corridor outside the throne room. The guards standing between the thrones and the door close ranks and advance as several enemy soldiers, some Lower Reach, some Red Hand, enter the throne room.

Delgara grabs my father as Oswald grabs me and we’re pulled, a small unit of Crown Guards following us, out a hidden door behind the thrones. A large banner, emblazoned with the Heris Royal Family crest, hangs in front of it.

“Wait, Oswald, Milo—”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we can’t stop. We’ll find him.”

I’m worried. The stairwell we’re moving down so dark, I can barely see a thing. I can tell my father is in front of me, his arm in Delgara’s grip. I try to look behind me, to find Milo, and almost lose my footing on the steep stairs. If it were not for Oswald’s hand, holding my arm in a vice-like grip, I would have fallen into my father.

We come out of the staircase into a hidden passageway between the walls of the dungeon. I know this passage leads to another hidden door that will open to the courtyard outside.

Once we’re all in the passage, I hear an ax hacking away at the wooden beams that keep the doorway open. Once they’re broken, the entry into the throne room will crumble and this passage will become unusable until it’s repaired. At least we won’t be followed. I try to look around, to find Milo, but the guards are too tall. If he’s behind them, I can’t see.

I’ve been down this passage only once before in my life, and I’ve never been through to the other side. The—for lack of a better word—door is made of stone. It’s loose enough for several well-placed kicks to knock it loose.

Once the door has been opened, we file out into the courtyard. I’m fourth out, right behind my father, Delgara, and Oswald. I turn and watch the half a dozen Crown Guards file out. When the last one leaves, and nobody follows them, my heart sinks until Milo comes out, followed by two more guards, both of them holding axes. 

My relief is so strong, I want to clutch Milo in my arms, but I don’t. Instead, I turn to my father.

“Where to now?”

“The King’s Bunker. Your mother and sister should be in theirs. We can take shelter there until our forces have fought off the—” My father’s words are cut off as he grabs me and swings around me. I hear a wet thunk and have no idea what’s happened until I look down and see the arrowhead sticking out of my father’s chest.

Chaos ensues. Everything moves as in a blur. One of our guards has a bow and arrow and takes out the assassin sitting on the wall. Several other guards half carry, half drag, my father into a door. I can hear his grunts of pain, his breathing labored, as they lean him against the wall. His weight seems too much for him to hold, and he slides to the floor.

“Father!” I yell as I crouch down beside him. I already feel the tears spilling from my eyes.

He coughs and blood spatters my face, but I don’t care. All I care about is that someone stop him from dying.

“Help him!” I yell, looking around at the stunned faces. Nobody moves. “Someone help him, for fuck’s sake!” My throat tears as I scream in vain for someone’s assistance.

I look at my father and his eyes find mine. They’re unfocused, as though he’s looking through me.

“My…son…” he gasps.

“No, save your breath, Father,” I say, breathless with fear and anguish.

I decide to look at the wound. If nobody else will help him, I’ll save my father myself. When I rip open the hole in his shirt, I see the location of the arrow. There’s no denying it. The arrow has pierced one of his lungs.

“Aaron, please…listen…”

I can hear the blood gurgling in his throat as he tries to talk. 

“Father, stop talking! Save your breath until we get you to the Grand Physician. Someone, go get her, now!”

But nobody moves. I know it’s futile. Even if we were to find her, I don’t think…no! I won’t give up on him. We can save him, I know we can save him!

My father grabs my face with one of his hands and I look at him.

“Foll—” says my father, pausing to take as deep of a breath as he can. “Follow…your heart…” He looks past me. I glance over my shoulder and his hand falls from my face. He’s looking at Milo, whose eyes meet mine for a moment before I look back at my father. He’s  looking right at me now, his eyes boring into mine as they never have before.

He smiles and says, “He’s…a good lad…”

My father lets out a long breath and his head slumps to the side, his eyes still locked on mine.

An eternity passes and nobody moves. 

The sounds of the battle outside are muffled, as though a pillow were pressed over my head. I hear an explosion outside, but it sounds distant, though I feel the shaking of the palace walls through my father’s hand, which I didn’t even realize I was clutching.

Oswald bends down and places two fingers on either side of my father’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” he says in a gentle voice. “The King is dead.”