Sebastian's plan was certainly… cunning. Matty did have to hand it to him. But she wasn't overly enthused about it, which she supposed was perfectly natural for her. Matty was self-aware enough to know that as a princess she'd lived a fairly pampered life, and sometimes decisions had to be made that went against her moral compass.
This plan of Sebastian's certainly rode the line between good and evil. Morally grey was perhaps the correct term for it.
But at least she could share the idea with someone else, since Damien and Sebastian had been amenable to her telling one other person, and only because her brother and his… lover… (fine, fiance) knew who that one person would be. Not the least of which, they knew they would need his help.
Killian. The duke. Matty's duke.
What Matty did not expect was for Killian to say no.
"Why?" Matty demanded, instead of falling to her knees and pleading. Because Princess Matty did not beg. Princess Matty was a strong, confident woman.
"Matty, darling," Killian began, then paused. He rubbed his chin. "It's a clever plan, to be sure, and I have nothing against Prince Damien marrying a commoner. Far be it for me to judge, what with our situation." He gestured at her with a quick flick of his hand. "But I don't like that someone else will be taking the fall for him."
Matty nodded. "But, if Sebastian's correct, that person is technically at fault. And it is very likely they'll be pardoned, not having actually committed the deed."
"That is correct. But he will lose his title and status. And the man dislikes me already." Killian sighed. "Why must it be me bringing up the old statute anyway? Why couldn't it be someone else?"
"You're the next highest title below our own, unless you count Prince Ale, but he's fairly new to our acquaintance and, understandably, I trust you more."
Prince Ale had been sent to the royal court only a few months back from Spain. He'd been sent for her to get to know him and, hopefully, fall in love. It hadn't been outright stated, but Matty wasn't a fool. An alliance between England and Spain would make a formidable powerhouse, after all.
But Matty had fallen in love already. Not with Ale. And, to be fair, Ale had not (yet) fallen in love with her. He was a bit of a loner, at least from what Matty could tell—not that she disliked him; quite the opposite—but she loved Killian, and Killian loved her.
Matty was not surprised whatsoever that Killian now stood as stiff and still as a statue, staring at the wall, face blank but mind (presumably) whirring.
Matty waited, trying very hard not to tap the tip of her shoe on the floor—a nervous tic of hers that she was working on taming. She hadn't quite managed. Yet.
A moment or two passed. Then:
"I think we should get a second opinion," Killian said.
"From whom?"
"Prince Ale, of course."
"I would need to ask my brother."
"I understand," Killian said, gentler than usual. "More than most." His eyes flicked away for a moment, likely thinking of his little brother Silas. "But I think it would be best for Prince Damien and Sallow not to know. In case Ale declines."
Matty's fingers curled into the skirts of her gown. "And if Ale says yes?"
"Then," Killian said, "we move quickly. Before someone finds the prince aiding and abetting a suspected murderer."
"And if Ale says no?"
Killian let out a breath. "We reassess. Carefully. Only if it comes to that. Which…" He trailed off, lost in thought once more, but didn't pick back up where he left off.
Matty didn't like that potentiality, but she also didn't want Damien to renounce the throne, leaving her as queen, so…
New plan! Find Ale. Get a second opinion. Then (hopefully) execute Sebastian's plan, before he, himself, was executed.
The clock tower chimed seven o'clock. It had been one hour since her father's message.
How much longer until Damien and Sebastian were found?
Matty couldn't know, but there was one thing she did know: time was of the essence.
//
"So, do I get a ring?" Sebastian asked as he lay sprawled across Damien's lap in one of the many empty guest rooms in the castle—a (probably futile) attempt to hide from the search party, at least temporarily. But no one could say Damien wasn't at least trying.
Damien chuckled as his long fingers curled through Sebastian's thick whorls of hair. "When we get out of this mess, you can have as many rings as you'd like."
"Alright, brilliant. I'll take ten."
"Only ten? My, you're holding back."
"You're right. I'll need twenty so I can alternate weeks."
Damien swatted at his head.
"Ow! I'm still bleeding, you know."
Damien smiled but not very wide; he doubted his one dimple—Sebastian's favorite—even made an appearance. "I know," he said, serious once more.
Damien had been appreciating their banter. It was a good distraction from everything, from the horrific thought of Sebastian's plan going terribly wrong.
Joking around with Sebastian had always been a favorite pastime, even before they had made their feelings for each other known. Damien remembered many times when they had teased each other as boys, Anne occasionally joining in as well, although she was much more careful about making Damien, her prince, the target.
"Big D," Sebastian had called him, since Damien had always been a bit larger than most boys his age, likely due to his royal parentage. Damien would crinkle his nose at the name, feigning dislike, but he secretly adored it. No one else called him that. No one else ever felt comfortable being honest with him.
"Big D," Sebastian said now, tacking on, "my darling," which was even more delightful. "Stop worrying. It's going to be alright."
Of course Sebastian had read his mind. He was quite good at that. And of course Damien was worrying. Sebastian's plan was clever, sure, but it was dangerous.
It was also rather bold.
Blaming Sebastian's uncle, Solomon, for Leander's death.
Bold, but not entirely unfounded.
Because it was Solomon who had changed the rules of the training exercises, breaking an old statute: to preserve the well-being of future knights of the realm.
Allowing deadly weapons to be used, instead of blunt, wooden practice swords, was certainly not preserving anyone's well-being. Because it wasn't safe. Not whatsoever.
"Why do you think your uncle changed the rules for the training bouts?" Damien said, still very much lost in thought.
Sebastian frowned. "Who knows what's going through Solomon's dense head the majority of the time?"
"Do you think he could have wanted something like this to occur?"
"Honestly? I wouldn't put it past him, but I don't know how he could have predicted what happened."
Sebastian tilted his head up so he could lock eyes with Damien upside-down. Damien would have laughed at the absurdity of the position, especially since he also added a marvelous little smirk—likely trying to cheer Damien up—but alas, Damien was still so nervous for him.
When Damien didn't laugh, Sebastian sighed. "You've changed your mind," he said.
"No," Damien assured him. "No, I haven't. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I believe Solomon is partially to be blamed." He paused to consider whether he should say the next bit that had crossed his mind. He figured he should. Sebastian was his fiance now. They were tethered together from this point forward. By Fate. With a capital F.
Damien braced himself. He said the words. "I'd do absolutely anything to save you from execution, Sebastian. I love you. You've been mine since we were boys. It's just… more official now. Or it will be. Soon. I'd do anything to keep you safe."
Sebastian's eyebrows raised, but he remained silent. At first. Then: "Anything?"
Damien groaned. He knew he shouldn't have said it. "Within reason, Sallow. Don't get any ideas. Killing someone, even accidentally, is bad enough."
Sebastian burst into a laugh, then grimaced, clearly still in great pain. "Aww," he said once he'd recovered his breath, "and here I was running through some rather dastardly ideas in my highly capable and incredibly intelligent mind."
"Don't start," Damien said, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, but I will." He slowly extricated himself from Damien's lap to position himself beside Damien on the sofa, their shoulders touching. "First: I think I'll marry the prince."
Damien laughed. "So, this was all some sort of ploy, hm?" He nudged Sebastian's shoulder very lightly with his own.
"A long-con," Sebastian said, winking. "Did it work?"
Damien leaned forward to plant a kiss on his insufferable knight's forehead. "What do you think?" he said.
"Mmm, yes. I think yes. Well done, me."
Well done, indeed.
Damien leaned down to give Sebastian a proper kiss.
There. Much, much better.
Now, if only the circumstances were better.
//
[ Read chapter six ➡️ ]
MCs mentioned: @girl-named-matty's Matty Ambrose and Killian Evander
Omg screens from my Buffy AU I never posted... Guess who she ends up with lol. (And for the buffy fans, yes, they are a play on exactly which guys you think they are 🤣)
I noticed Killian and Jarvis had the same scar and I had to do the ATLA quote. @soapallo I love your art and I love Jarvis so much, so I knew I had to snatch him up for some screenies eventually. 😂💕
