𝒢𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒢𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒢𝑜𝓃𝑒

CHAPTER I.XIV: You're not my lover, you know

--TRAVELLING THE MULTIVERSE--
TIP 234: Don't' reveal all that you know.

"You're not my lover, you know."

Your words are spoken in one of the most serious tones Quackity has ever heard from you. While he is not able to see your face, hidden behind a wall of green and leaves where he can hear you, even if barely, having gone there out of curiosity for your conversation and observations, he can hardly imagine the cold eyes and thin line having replaced the usual smile you wear. Of course, you can be strict. You had a role to fulfil. But not this. Not the voice of an authority figure. Not the attitude of a teacher scolding a young boy, uninterested in his studies. Not the words between two equals, spoken by a peasant to a prince.

The silence that follows only emphasizes everyone's shock, excluding yours. Quackity doesn't doubt that you too find yourself confused and shocked, the words having left your mouth impulsively, with you not having intended to say what you said, but nonetheless, the damage has already been done. Quackity imagines Fundy's face heat up from anger and shame, furious that a peasant like you dares speaking to him that way, but no words follow. It's just silence. Excruciating silence.

Then, your muffled scream follows, along with some sounds that Quackity cannot quite place, but it alarms him so much that he jumps out from after the wall, to see Fundy attempting to choke you, shouting at you furiously, but Quackity can't even comprehend the words as he jumps to Jared's aid to get the prince off of you. Once they hold him tightly, desperately holding him back by his arms as you, eyes widened, reach for your bruised throat, stare at him angrily.

"I gave you everything! Everything you needed, and yet, you denied me, Y/N. How dare you speak to me that way? I am your future king! I could've given you so much more, and this is how you thank me instead? You wretched witch!" Shaking from the rage inside of him, he stands – or rather hangs forwards, as he would fall if the noble and priest were to let go – in front of you, who in turn stands perfectly still, calm and collected. Fundy's voice is raspy, as a coughing fit accompanies his inner demons, unlike yours, which is clear and obvious, stable and confident.

"I owe you nothing. Even if you were a king, or an emperor, for my part, I'd treat you with just as much dismissal as I'm doing now." Jared sends you a warning glance, but you ignore it. "I know I'm a few centuries too early, but I don't give a single shit anymore, because I refuse to put up with this bloody attitude, Fundy. Your royal family was not given your status by some droit divin, but by the people you are supposed to treat as equals, but clearly, you see me as nothing but a love interest. I don't owe you my heart, Fundy-"

"Then you should've never stolen mine," he spits out, stopping to struggle against the two men who are now more properly processing the situation, though they're still panicking in silence. "I love you, Y/N. Am I truly that hard to love back?"

You sigh, biting your bottom lip frustratingly as you clench your fists, glancing over at Jared. "I need that Crimson, Jared. I don't want to spend another day in this place. I want to leave as soon as possible."

Quackity looks at you confusedly, finding you to be fully unrecognizable from the person he loved deeply, but he doesn't dare to say a thing. Fundy is offended by the fact that you ignored his words, shouting: "Fuck, Y/N! How long will I have to wait until you come to your senses?"

You scoff, getting closer to his face. "No worries, Prince. You don't have that much time anymore anyway." And with those words, you storm off, back towards the castle out of which Niki has just walked out. Jared looks at Quackity with a bewildered and alarmed look in his eyes, while they both let go of the royal boy, who immediately falls onto the ground, coughing up everything inside of him. Niki rushes towards him, sharing with the other two that he must have a fever higher than before, at which neither respond, looking towards the doors you just went through.