Butterfly Reign | Dream SMP & Remarried Empress fusion

Ch21. When I let go

"A long journey afoot will teach you a lesson on how to behave in someone else's home," he practically growls. "Get out of my sight."

To Beau's credit, she doesn't falter. "As far as I am aware, this is Prince Theseus' home," she says, picking up her skirts and swirling away. The other nobles follow shortly, and Ranboo watches in wonder at how fast the stables are emptied. Even the stablemen previously lingering somewhere in the corner of his vision have vanished, leaving Techno and Ranboo alone with snorting horses.

"What just happened?" Ranboo asks, absently brushing Buddy's muzzle.
"Saddling someone's horse is the job of a stableboy," Techno says, staring off into the direction Beau had just left. "Nobles serve other more high-ranking nobles as attendants, soldiers and servants, but it's considered mortifying to stoop to working in the stables."

Oh . "They were humiliating me…" Ranboo unseals his lips, voice dropping. "And I didn't even understand."

Buddy, clueless of the whole ordeal, nudges his nose into Ranboo's back as soon as he stops petting him. He seems nice, not as good as Carl but a gentle creature nevertheless. Ranboo pulls at the reins, and Buddy follows, but Techno blocks their way. "Where are you going, kid?"

"I don't want any problems with Marchioness Beau and Prince Theseus," Remembering the tea party, Ranboo looks away. "At least not more than I already have."

"This isn't the first time this has happened?" The corner of Techno's lip twitches down. "Why didn't you tell Phil anything?"

"It would only make the harassment worse," Ranboo shakes his head. "If I endure it now maybe it's not going to be as bad next time."

Beau must be too far for him to catch up to already, so Ranboo places his hopes on that and lets Buddy wander off on his own. When he looks back at Techno, the prince creases his brows in deep thought.

"Come," he finally says. "I want to show you something."

Ranboo doesn’t put much thought into it before he springs to follow, first out of the stables then under the rooftops of the palace. He lacks little of Techno's height but the prince's stance is broader and his feet are silent; he drifts through air more than he walks. Where the general is an eagle, Ranboo's feels like a sparrow at best, spinning his head and jittering his eyes out as the eastern wing goes past and marble columns turn to bluestone bricks.

It’s Ranboo who first shuffles to a stop before they can pass under an arrowhead shaped arc. Techno turns as soon as his steps cease to follow. “What’s the matter?”

“I, uh, don’t think I can follow any further,” Ranboo says, wringing his hands. “Tubbo told me that the northern wing is for the Imperial family only, and it would be trespassing, so…”

His eyes flicker between the prince and two Imperial guards, in their silvery armor and uniform of sky blue. Under metal helms, they have pale faces barely touched by sunlight and features cobbled out of packed snow. They look nothing like the men in Esempi, who wear no helmets to hide tanned, wind-chafed skin, but even the thought of coming near makes pain ripple in Ranboo’s long since healed wounds.

“You’re with me, so it’s fine,” Techno says. His wide palm settles over Ranboo’s back, and even if the tone of his voice doesn’t change, there’s comfort in how it presses him forward, warm and reassuring. “Let’s go.”

He holds his breath as they pass through. Leaving the guards far behind, Ranboo releases the trapped air from his lungs and finds Techno watching. “Right! What is it that you wanted to show me?”
Techno turns away. “You’ll see.”

“Now that’s not ominous at all,” Ranboo mutters, but walks faster to match Techno’s pace.

They pass a few more guard posts, each new one with twice as many men and women as the previous. Despite Techno wearing none of his usual armor, instead robed in a long tunic sashed at the waist, people notice the general from afar and stop to greet him. His hair, slithering down to his back like the seafoam of a crushing wave, is starkly more recognizable than Ranboo’s grass and bloodrop eyes. Before the palace, he had never heard about albinism. He genuinely believed that Techno had his hair dyed, and one day asked whether its natural color was pale sand like Theseus’ or closer to Wilbur’s walnut brown. He felt like the winds turned on him when Techno’s expression shifted to careful and guarded. “No, I was always like that,” he said. Ranboo told him that he liked the color, and the prince went back to looking mildly bored, if not the tiniest degree more relaxed.