Casi Abalaoi meets Herines Harasaeon in a burning building with the certain knowledge that neither of them can put out the fire.
She has met him before, of course, in fact she has technically known him for years. Prince Herines, heir to the throne. Ornate and distant and royal, known by thousands. She has even met him personally before. When she was introduced to high society and had to be presented before the Harasaeons, she kissed his hand, eyes on the ground, and a year later, he had been a scowling thundercloud behind the larger frame of his younger brother as Adeunus chastised her and her sisters for picking on the Goldester girl.
But she has never truly met Herines. Not as someone real, not as someone tangible, not as someone mortal. The Harasaeons, even to a family as prestigious as the Abalaois, have always seemed too grand to be relatable, too divine to be human, but as he stands before her now tonelessly asking for her hand before the High Council in a practised speech, a deal finalised with her father days ago and told to her only once it had already been confirmed, Casi notices smudged kohl by the king's eyes, a natural slant to his mouth, an impatient tapping of fingers on his thigh. He is as uninterested and reluctant in this marriage as she is, and it would be amusing if she wasn't so fearful of him. Harasaeons are almighty and quick-tempered. Kiva had been kind, gentle, and Herines took her throne. It would be criminal to voice that thought, of course, but even her father knows it, is delighted by it, and worries not for the character he is selling his daughter to. And for what? More power. Dynasty. Legacy for the Abalaoi name.
It all seems so stupid now. She hasn't feared someone more than she fears Herines, studying every movement he makes and ignoring every word from his mouth. It is a business deal. A trade. If she pays attention it will sicken her, and she might faint on the king's pretty marble floor, and then where would they be?
She realises she might hate him, and wonders if he considers her enough to even feel the same.
The first real reaction Casi gets from Herines is when her father suggests the king show her the gardens, causing a startled noise to leave Herines as he takes a half-aborted step back from her like she might bite him. The High Council departs with varying mirth towards the newly betrothed couple, and Casi finally feels some kinship with her husband-to-be, throwing a pleading look at her father. They cannot truly be alone, of course - the Head of the Queen's- King's? Guard notoriously refuses to leave his side and will act as their main chaperone until they are married - but the intention is clear and Casi's father's quick glare before he leaves is an order.
The silence left behind is painful. Lady Zayda stands at the door with an expression of stone. The council chamber is not an overly large room, but Casi finds herself stood before Herines on the far side. If they speak lowly, they will be out of earshot, and somehow knowing that makes the silence even heavier. Casi is too scared to look up from her sandals for the first few tiks, but morbid curiosity wins out, and she flicks a glance up at the king to see a strange expression on his face. He looks... human, boyish in his awkward flush, eyes flickering from the walls to the collonade behind her, as if searching for a topic of conversation. Eventually, he lands on the uninspired,
"The weather is lovely," he says, seeming to cringe at his own words. "The gardens are... also lovely."
Nothing about this is lovely, Casi decides, and her frustration and fear at the situation as a whole collide with that childish bitterness. She will be proud about this if she cannot be in control.
Casi tips her nose up, glaring at him. "The weather is lovely in the Westlands too, and the orange orchards are in bloom. It is much hotter there."
She expects his temper here, or to be dismissed. She has only ever considered this marriage as being cruel or cold, and holds her breath as she awaits the final verdict.
Casi receives neither. Herines does the oddest thing, tipping his head as if confused, face scrunching up like he has tasted something sour.
"Of course it is hotter in the west," he says condescendingly. "It is the west."
"I-..." Casi falters, completely caught off guard. "Well, yes."
It goes quiet between them again, both entirely perplexed by the other, and finally, they are saved by a knock at the door, and the king's presence is needed elsewhere. Only once he has left the room does Casi take a full breath since being paraded in here by her father.
Just as she follows after him, Casi swears she hears Lady Zayda huff to herself.
They meet like that three more times, each time abandoned by those around them to the tune of immature laughter, like they are all teenagers again and she and Herines are the newest couple to ogle and gossip about. Casi doesn't abhor attention like some of her more self-conscious sisters, is even fond of it more often than not, but being the soon-to-be queen consort is more than she can handle, and she finds herself fleeing to one of the throne room's many beautiful balconies during an event. She had been told it would be a small affair, a gathering of Ataveres, Abalaois and Fidaris before the king to discuss and commend the strength of their alliance, and that she could stay with her sisters, but there are more than thirty people in the throne room, and Casi's parents keep telling her off whenever she dares stray from the king's side, as if he even wants her there. It's smothering and she grips the stone of the balcony firmly to keep her grounded, taking large gulps of the cool evening air.
She hears footsteps and has to bite back a groan, but the voice that speaks surprises her.
"My apologies," Herines says, sounding just as surprised to see her, "I thought the balcony was empty."
Casi turns to face him, bowing her head in respect and trying to keep the glare from her eyes.
"I only came out for a moment of air."
"And I am likely the last person you want interupting that," Herines observes. It feels condescending again, and the overwhelming evening combined with the interuption of her one moment of peace sees Casi snapping.
"Quite," she hisses, and immediately blanches. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry, I-."
"Herines," he says quietly. There is none of the rage people whisper about. He joins her at the balcony and stares out at Kusig, a sadness in his brown eyes, an exhaustion in the lines of his face. "If we are to be married, you could at least call me by my name."
Casi stares at him in disbelief.
"My parents weren't in love," Herines says, his voice still soft, eyes still on the city, "did you know that?"
Casi hardly remembers Prince Willem, but she knows how he and Queen Kiva had regarded one another, the easy way they moved beside each other, the way he made her laugh. If that was not love to Herines, then what hope do they have? He turns and must see the confusion on her face, because the king smiles a little.
"They loved each other a lot," he explains, "but they were not in love. She always described it as having married her most beloved friend, and it worked for them perfectly. They were happy like that." His expression turns serious, smile falling. "You are smart enough to know I do not love you, and I know you do not love me, and I'm not sure if that's something either of us even wants to try and foster. Our marriage is purely political... But must we keep doing this? Avoiding one another, stuttering through painful small talk, existing as strangers? Can there not be some compromise?"
He is less demanding her and more genuinely asking if she thinks it to be possible, and that sudden surrender of power in their dynamic leaves her breathless and unblinking, staring at the King of Burnos who suddenly seems simply like a young man left alone in a palace too big, handed a war by his anscestors, and Casi realises that she has an understanding here that her father and the other counsellors, in being older, probably lack. She knows the social circles and dynamics of her age group, and knows for a fact that everyone Herines truly liked, truly cared for, is gone now, away from Kusig, abandoning him to fight for the wisers.
She hadn't considered it before, but thinks now as she longs for her sisters and her home that she understands like no one else how terribly lonely Herines Harasaeon must be.
Casi swallows, looking out at the city, and offers a piece of herself back to him.
"Tell me about Nebetta," she says. "I know you were close, you amagi, and she could hardly speak to us once she was married because Father kept chasing her away, but I miss her."
At the mention of Nebetta, Herines looks delighted and sad at once. That, too, Casi understands.
They talk until the sun has set entirely, uncaring of their rudeness towards the nobility waiting for them in the throne room, and it is the first real conversation Casi has had in weeks. It is still a little awkward, a clumsy reintroduction, but they stumble through, and at one point, Herines even makes a joke about the insufferable Darius Fidari, and Casi is both so startled by the attempt at humour and the simple admittance that the great King of Burnos still holds onto teenage grudges that she snorts. Her mother would throw herself from the balcony if she witnessed the natural laugh she had spent years training out of Casi now emerging before a Harasaeon, and Casi slaps a hand to her mouth, but Herines grins at her, victorious, and she slowly lowers her hand again.
They don't get much time together after that. Herines has a war to fight and a kingdom to run, neither of which really interest Casi, but when one of them has a worse day than normal, they tend to find one another. Sometimes, they don't even say anything. They just exist in silent companionship knowing that for a few moments, when it's just them, that someone understands.
Casi Abalaoi meets Herines Harasaeon in a burning building with the certain knowledge that neither of them can put out the fire. They both have other people they would certainly prefer for company, but that is not a choice they are offered, so they reach across the flames and grasp onto one another. It is an understanding borne from desperation. Herines went on to do terrible things, but he was not terrible to Casi, and as she stands at his funeral, she knows she is the only one there who truly knew him as he was in his final weeks. His mother weeps before the pyre, his brother remembers his childhood, his friends mourn an innocent past, but Casi knew only King Herines, who butchered and fought and died.
She knew him lonely, and scared, and he knew her that way too. For a time, that had been enough to save her, and she will always love him a little for that.
