A Gift Unto the King

Chapter 2 - The Crown

"Am I really so easy to cast aside?" Lucas hissed through his clenched jaw. Vin glanced up at the knight's pained face, and his heart fell.

"Never." Vin whispered, shaking his head as a single tear broke from its prison, and fell to the floor. Wiping his eyes, he averted his gaze. "I believe you have a duty to fulfill."

Lucas remained, silently observing the prince for a moment, before bowing his head. "As you wish, your majesty." His bitter words cut Vin like a knife, each thumping footstep of his exit a dagger to his heart.

For the second time in less than a week, he had to say goodbye to someone he loved. His body felt heavy, as if the pain itself were boulders weighing him down—a weight the crown would only increase. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to be held close by his knight, to be encapsulated in his comforting warmth. To lie with him under soft linen sheets, running his fingers across his chest, and over his rippling abs.

Beautiful memories of Lucas rushed through Vin's mind, from his confident smile and intoxicating laugh, to the feel of his strong body pressed against his own. He could still taste him on his lips, and feel his hands gripping his thighs as he kissed them softly. With each passing thought, his heart ached for the touch of a man he would never be allowed to have. By all rights of nobility, Lucas never should have come to be a knight at all, yet here he was. How cruel it was for the world to bring to him the first person he ever truly loved by sheer serendipitous happenstance, only to take him away by the curse of his own wretched ancestry.

Vin leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. His head was now throbbing, and his eyes stung. Drawing a deep, choppy, breath, he closed his eyes, and wished to be numb.

Wood creaked under the heavy footfalls of Lucas's boots. Emotions were running through him with the force of a rushing waterfall, and it was taking every ounce of his strength to maintain his composure. He wanted to be angry, to prevent himself from feeling the soul crushing sadness that was forming a pit in his stomach, but he couldn't. Every time he tried to hate Vin for pushing him away, his heart only broke for him more. As much as Lucas wanted to pretend that there weren't rules, as much as he wanted to believe Vin had a choice, he knew that he didn't. No matter what, Vin's life would never truly be his own. It was just something he had to accept.

So lost in his own thoughts, he hardly noticed the queen approaching in his direction. Abruptly, he stopped, bowing his head in respect. The queen, standing only a few inches shorter than Vin, was dressed in an elegant, golden gown, decorated with floral goldwork and pearl beads. Her thick, wavy, auburn hair fell just past her hips. A few small braids were pulled towards the back, with beautiful pearl strands delicately draped over her silky locks. Atop her head sat a golden diadem adorned with floral engraving and speckled with small emeralds and pearls.

"Sir knight, Lucas is it?" She inquired.

"It is, your highness." He replied as he straightened up to meet her gaze.

"You're the young knight that's been romancing my son." It wasn't a question, but the tone felt baiting of a confirmation.

Lucas's body tensed as the color drained from his face. How had she known? How could she have possibly known?! His jaw clenched as he contemplated his response.

"Your majesty, if I may-"

"Please, I have no intention of reprimanding you for this." She waved her hand to cut him off. Lucas relaxed slightly, however, his anxious heart was still pounding. Cautiously, he opened his mouth to speak.

"H-How long have you known?" The knight asked, timidly—a tone seemingly uncharacteristic for a man of his stature and confidence.

"Since the very beginning of it all, I believe." The queen giggled softly, raising a hand to cover her mouth. "I will say, you did well to hide it. My husband never caught even the slightest inkling. But I suppose it's true, no one knows a child better than their mother." A relaxed smile resided on her slender face, but the warmth was beginning to fade from her eyes. Delicately, she moved to clasp her hands firmly in front of her, fingers slowly running over each other. "I want what's best for my son, as all mothers should." She continued, "regretfully, what is best for my son is not what I can provide." The queen's eyes fell away from Lucas's. A dark shadow had overtaken her, the very fabric of her life becoming a blanket of grief.