Princess Alver (og Cale x Alver)

Part 13

Cale wasn't sure. Not really sure. It was the strange sort of way that he'd been absolutely sure that Crown Prince Alberu was Bob upon their first meeting but then his acting managed to throw Cale off the scent.

Yet, the more he got to know snippets about the prince, the more they exchanged letters, the more the similarities were apparent. Yet, he still thought it was just his type.

Alberu's rejection made him question it all again. It really wasn't anything specific. Nothing concrete. Nothing definite.

It was just that the expression on Alberu's face had been the exact same as Bob's when she said goodbye.

And he just couldn't quite let it go. Sort of. He'd already decided to let Alberu go upon hearing the rejection, regardless of whether he was Bob or not, so he wasn't planning to pursue further. But he really couldn't forget the similarities.

Couldn't help but line up a million little things that were so inconsequential that he knew it had to be his imagination. Like the set of Alberu's shoulders having the exact same posture as Bob, or the way their dimples only showed when they smiled for real, the curious way they furrowed their brow when frustrated, the habit of absently tapping on a nearby surface while thinking.

He really had to be going crazy if he noticed that much about either of them. He'd known them both for such a short period of time and the distance of time between meetings could certainly skew memories.

So he'd just been trying to drink away his insanity when he got locked in a room with Alberu.

And maybe Alberu let down his guard too much because he just couldn't help but see her in his every movement. The way he talked, the way he chastised Cale, the way he clearly overthought everything. It just felt like they were the same. So he laid out some bait.

He really didn't expect Alberu to take the bait. In a way, it was supposed to just be some tiny petty vengeance for being rejected. If Bob and Alberu were one and the same, then Alberu would naturally assume he was talking about Bob, so ti would be a blow to his ego if he was wrong. That was all.

He hadn't anticipated the look on Alberu's face to look so...

Vulnerable?

Angry?

Confused?

Upset?

Annoyed?

...jealous...?

"...do I actually have a chance with him?"

It was a thought worth considering but Cale hardly wanted to get his hopes up. For all his assertive pursuit, he'd known how it would end.

It was just about delaying the end and putting aside regrets.

Cale stared out into the star-filled night sky beyond his balcony, balancing another bottle of wine on the ledge and considering letting it fall just to watch it shatter on the ground. One time, he'd done just that, and Ron showed up out of nowhere to catch it. It was one of the most terrifying moments of his life, especially when Ron looked up at him with a disapproving frown.

Of course, then Cale had cursed him out and forced Ron to shatter the bottle for him and it turned into a delightful evening of smashing glass just to watch it shatter.

Cale groaned and rested his forehead against his forearms. He didn't want to break glass. Not right now. He just couldn't stop the way his heart was racing behind his ribcage and he wanted some control over absolutely anything in his life so he could forget this feeling.

The mere idea that Alberu might like him back, might actually have some feelings for him, had his entire body alight with emotion and he couldn't quite tolerate it because he knew it was false hope. Perhaps this was worse than regret. Because it felt like all his emotions toward both Alberu and Bob had been intensified with just a few stolen seconds.

He couldn't help it. He liked them. And he liked them even more if they liked him back.

There was the tiniest tap nearby and Cale looked up, expecting perhaps that a twig from a tree fell onto his resting spot.

And continued to look up.

Ah. She looked so much prettier than he remembered.

Standing delicately atop the balcony ledge, her eyes narrowed into points as she glared down at him, and dressed in a dark cloak that blew in the wind, there was the one person that he couldn't get off his mind no matter how hard he tried.

Cale swallowed a lump in his throat, momentarily struck by her beauty in the moonlight. It was hard not to be entranced. Her delicate lashes and dark hair whispering in the wind. That irate little frown that almost made her look like she was pouting and drew so much attention to her lips–

Ah, he needed to think about this less.

"...should I still call you Bob?" He asked, as casually as he could manage while she dropped gracefully down beside him. Lord, that only made everything so much worse. Now she was close enough to him that if he did something really stupid and impulsive, she was within his reach.

Cale mentally thanked himself for staying sober.

"You shouldn't drink so much." She said in a clipped tone that belied just how annoyed she was, snatching the bottle he'd forgotten about from him. "You always look flushed when you drink."

...I didn't drink though... Cale held a hand to his face self consciously, uncharacteristically feeling insecure over his appearance. How stupid must he have looked while gaping at her like that? Ah, if he could just turn back time and behave with composure. Dammit.

"What brings you here, your highness?"

The hand around his throat was so swift that he didn't see it coming. Her eyes were as narrow as slits as she glared ferociously at him, enough strength flexing in her fingertips to advertise that, yes, she could snap his neck if she wanted to. "Watch your tongue."

All at once, the elation left Cale.

Of course. He'd been half out of his mind to expect anything different. This wasn't a light night rendezvous. This was a warning to keep his lips sealed about what he knew.

A bitter smile overtook his face as he nodded obediently.