chapter 8.

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I'm terrible I haven't updated in so long and still this chapter is so short I have no excuse please enjoy (also descriptions of Alre in this are entirely self-indulgent because in my head he looks so much like my crush oh my god) xx

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"What do you think, Alre? Would I make a good king?" asked Forven, gripping the reigns a little tighter in his hands. The air was cold that morning, harsh winds biting at the few parts of their exposed skin. The sun had only just started to rise and the fields they were overlooking were bathed in a soft golden blanket.

"No. You're way too kind," was Alre's answer, but the joke was evident in his voice. Forven's lips stretched into a grin as he looked over at the boy sitting on the horse next to him. Alre's cheeks were red from the cold and Forven was sure that he himself looked no better.

Talking to Alre was like a breath of fresh air. There were not many people in his life that he could converse so freely with as with him. For once, Forven did not have to be careful in choosing his words, crafting elaborate sentences that would appease the nobles at court. With Alre, he could talk.

Forven thought he looked beautiful, sitting there, the rising sun casting a light glow upon his sharp features. Alre was beautiful. From the way his hair curled across his forehead, tempting Forven to run his hands through them, to the array of moles on his jawline and neck that Forven longed to kiss.

"Is kindness not a virtue? Would a righteous king not be loved by all his people?"

"Kindness often goes hand in hand with naivety, you must know that. You're an excellent example."

"How so?" Forven asked him.

"You see good where there is none. I worry that one day, someone might take advantage of that," Alre said.

The playful tone of the conversation died down when Alre answered Forven's question, but Forven was still smiling. He couldn't help it. Alre had that effect on him.

Alre was like a fireplace inside of Forven's chest. It had taken a while for the flames to grow but now Forven was afraid that they couldn't be contained anymore. He was a helpless bystander feeling the fire grow bigger and bigger inside of him.

They started moving forward again, their horses enjoying a leisurely pace over the damp grass.

"There is no need to worry about me. I'm stronger than I look," said Forven.

"Oh, really?" Alre raised his eyebrow, challenging him.

"Hey! You might think you're so great with these-" Forven reached over to squeeze Alre's bicep, feeling the muscle through the thick layers of fabric. "But brute strength is not everything."

He chose to ignore the fact that the feeling of Alre's strong arms in his hands made the blood rush to his face. The wind had already brought a flush to his cheeks, anyway. Alre did not need to know how hot he made Forven feel.

"That's something a weak man would say."

Forven's jaw dropped.

"Do you want to test me? I could take you down easily if I wanted," said Forven, squaring his shoulders to appear bigger.

"You'd have to catch up with me first," Alre said.

"What are you talk- hey!"

Alre's horse then took off, galloping straight ahead, leaving Forven in astonishment. He quickly tugged at the reigns and kicked his horse in the sides to chase after Alre. The cold air felt like knives on his cheeks, but the smile on Forven's face was bigger than it had been in ages.

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