Tangled Crowns

Genuine

Derek inhaled the fresh air, letting it pierce his lungs. He guided himself down the stone steps before dropping onto the last one. It was quiet out here, but his sensitive ears could hear the music and laughter from inside.

He couldn't stay out here long. If his mother didn't send someone for him, she might come find him herself. He couldn't deal with that right now. He was already too overwhelmed with the revelation of his mysterious 'Mischief' being Prince Stiles.

Derek scrubbed a hand down his face. Stiles had known who he was the whole time. Disappointment gnawed at Derek's chest. He should have known 'Mischief' was too good to be true. Of course, he'd thought it was because he'd never see him again. His taste of freedom had given him a taste of what he could never have.

Derek's fingers brushed along his lips.

It wasn't real, though. He couldn't escape the flattery and lies, even outside the castle walls.

The sound of music and laughter grew louder as it poured through the opened door behind him.

He closed his eyes and let his shoulders slump. That hadn't taken long. Had she sent Cora, or was it the Queen herself come to reprimand Derek? He didn't bother to look.

"I did as was asked, I'm allowed a reprieve."

"A reprieve? Is my company that bad?" Stiles asked.

Derek's head snapped up to where Stiles stood beside him. His back stiffened.

"Don't worry, your mother thinks you're on your best behavior. I assured her you and I were getting along wonderfully." Stiles held out one of the two glasses of wine.

Derek narrowed his eyes.

"She also thinks you're waiting on me to bring you a drink," Stiles said when Derek didn't take the glass.

Derek glanced toward the large windows before taking the glass with a sigh.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

Derek set his glass down on the stone next to him. "You have a room full of people falling at your feet. Why are you out here with me?"

Stiles laughed. "I meant what I said, Derek. You're not like them."

"Why, because I'm not falling at your feet?" Derek scoffed.

Stiles sat down next to Derek, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

"Because I saw who you were when you weren't Prince Derek."

Derek once again fought the butterflies, trying to escape. He wouldn't fall for it. He knew Stiles' reputation.

"You knew who I was."

"Not until I saw you earlier."

Derek knew he wouldn't be able to tell if Stiles was lying, so he didn't even try.

"Tell me something. Are you mad that I didn't tell you who I really was, or are you mad that I'm a prince?"

Derek met Stiles' eyes for the first time since he'd joined him in the garden. They were familiar in a way that made his chest ache. He remembered staring into them before kissing him last night.

"I'm mad that I let myself believe you were genuine," Derek answered, dragging his eyes to the setting sun.

"Who says I'm not?" Stiles frowned.

"People talk. They say you're a flirt, and you never follow through."

"Do you believe everything you hear?"