Reign - Ryden

2

"Getting ready for the ball, little brother?" a voice behind Ryan sounded. When he turned he was met by a pair of bright eyes and a small smirk. Spencer. Of course it was him. Ryan let out a small groan at the boy and moved his eyes back to look at himself in the mirror, fingers running through his now slicked back chocolate brown hair. He hated wearing it like this. He preferred it much messier.

"Yes. I am." He replies softly, rolling his eyes at his older brother's outfit. Spencer was decked out in a grand red jacket, with tiny gold embellishments lining the hem. Under the jacket he wore a puffy cream shirt tucked into the most hideous black pants Ryan had ever laid eyes on. "Did the king make you wear that or do you just like dressing like a complete ass all the time?" He asks, looking back at Spencer with a small smirk.

Spencer laughs softly as he moves to sit on the edge of Ryan's bed. "You know just as well as I do that father made me wear this. it's what all the future kings are wearing these days." He smirks, and Ryan can't help but laugh at that. Spencer was in line to be king. he had been trained since birth to act, speak, and dress a certain way so that people would think he was a good king. In Ryan's opinion, Spencer didn't need any of that to be a better king than their alcoholic father.

"Was he drunk when he said that? because you look like an idiot." Ryan smirks, tugging on his simple brown coat and pushing his golden rings onto his fingers. 

"And you look better?" Spencer asks, eyeing Ryan up and down. "You look like you spent all day at the brothel." 

"That's because i did." Ryan answers matter-of-factly. "it was wonderful, thanks for asking." He adds sarcastically. Ryan spent most of his time at the brothel, enjoying woman after woman, drinking fine wine and smoking the most amazing spices from around the kingdom. He had no responsibilities to attend to and he loved it. He felt bad for his brother, who couldn't quite enjoy the kingdom's luxuries the way that Ryan had. Poor bastard.

After a moment of waiting, and watching Ryan obsess over his hair in the mirror, Spencer finally rises to his feet. "We need to go, Ryan. We wouldn't want to be late."

Ryan wants to tell him he begs to differ, but decides against it. He'd much rather be drinking wine in his bedroom while a girl kisses his neck, but he needs to be by Spencer's side. After all, tonight is the night that Spencer may find his future wife. He needs his brother to be supportive, not dragging him down due to his lack of enthusiasm. "Well then let's go."

***

Angardia isnt too far away. The castle is located just outside of Euronia's border, making it a short trip, much to Ryan's liking. "What do you think Prince Brendon will be like?" Spencer asks about an hour into the trip.

Ryan would like to think that the Prince is much like him, rebellious, sarcastic, daring; but he knows that's just not the truth. Prince Brendon of Angardia has quite the reputation for being well-behaved, poised, and extremely friendly. In Ryan's opinion, the guy sounds fucking awful, and Ryan would rather slit his throat than have to spend an evening trying to make small talk with him about politics, or horseback riding. But he refrains from telling Spencer that. "I think he'll be great. I've heard he's very nice."

Spencer nods in agreement as he looks out of the car window up into the night sky above them. He looks to be deep in thought. "Ry...?" He asks, making Ryan hum in acknowledgment. "I just want you to know that if anyone tries to say something to you about those rumors, i will not hesitate to--"

"Spence." Ryan stops him quickly, shaking his head. "I can handle myself. And any intelligent person would know that those rumors are complete lies probably made up by Prince Dallon to ruin any good reputation I have left."

"I just don't want my brother being known as a fag." Spencer lets out quickly.

Ryan wants so badly to ask what's so wrong with being a fag? but he doesn't, because if Spencer ever even suspected that Ryan actually favored boys, well, the results would not be good. The press would have a field day.

No, he could never tell anyone that he preferred boys. No one at all.