@seavillain from [ x ]
there’s one terrifying moment where daniel thinks jacob might change his mind and leave. it’s as horrifying as losing a hand—as a beloved prince, he is not so used to being denied a want, no matter how large or small. he could stroll through floraison’s capital market square, pointing through shop windows, and no one would deny him. i want this, and this, and this. the prince-captain may be worth far more than a piece of jewelry, but daniel finds the feeling of wanting is the same. i want this. he licks his lower lip with a purposeful slowness.
‘ i am usually right. it is one of my many talents. ’ the taste of drink and jacob on his tongue makes him braver than usual, more pliable in the other’s hands. still willing to be as insufferable as his slight modesty will allow, but softer, too. the scratch in his voice denotes the difference from the man at dinner and the man in his tent, being kissed by a foreign prince. there’s electricity at the base of his spine where jacob’s hand rests, an untouched land where none have dared to settle for more than a night. he hesitates before he leans into it, testing. his stomach turns. as if gripping for purchase on a rowdy sea, he reaches for jacob’s collar, twisting it between dainty fingers. a thousand things to say sit between them and daniel does not know which to pick, which is in his best interest and which will earn him the most favor, the most ire. perhaps it’s the drink. perhaps it’s the feeling of being kissed, genuinely kissed, by someone who presents such an unknown factor in his life. but whatever the cause, in a rare turn of events, he settles for what he wants to say rather than what he ought to. it, too, feels more precious than any jewelry in a marketplace.
‘ am i your temptation, then? ’ his voice is so small that it’s almost unrecognizable. there is a bit of preening to it, the eager willingness to be adored, but fear remains. jacob is not one of his subjects who will climb through the mud for him. they are equals in this—by the end of things they may end up side by side, their heads on pikes outside a city wall. it takes away some of his bravado to know this, to know that jacob is not so easily won. his fingers clutch tighter, like that could stop the prince-captain if he wished to leave. ‘ you will regret it. there are easier paths to walk than mine. ’
