tw - brief mention of self harm at the end. just a memory, not the actual act. please stay safe <3
George's POV
George stayed in his room the next day, waiting for night to come.
He was full of questions, most of which he couldn't answer. He'd spent the day sorting through all of them and ending up frustrated.
He reread Romeo and Juliet in hopes of trying to understand their relationship and how it came to be, as well as how it ended. George just ended up right where he started, with no answers.
The masquerade had ended up being the third event in the tournament, but there was no actual points scored. Just brownie points, if you will, from the prince.
Once night had fallen and the stars slipped above the horizon, George slipped out of his room. He closed the door softly behind him, hearing a soft 'click'.
"George!" his mother exclaimed from behind him. "I've been meaning to talk to you!"
George forced a smile and returned his mother's hug, saying, "Hello, Mother, it's good to see you... What are you doing up this late?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head!" she said and added with a sly smile, "Where are you sneaking off to?"
"Nowhere."
His mother raised an eyebrow, still grinning as she said, "Are you heading off to see the prince?"
George shook his head quickly, but his mother picked up something, chuckling, "Oh good! I loved seeing you dance with him last night, sweetie, you two looked stunning together!"
George felt a blush creep up his neck as he said in a hushed whisper, "It wasn't like that Mother!"
"Then what was it like?"
"He danced with everyone, remember?"
She tilted her head and replied, "But George, he seemed to like dancing with you the most."
George couldn't help the word escape his throat, "Really?"
His mother nodded and smiled. "This is good George, you have a better chance at winning if he likes you."
"Are you saying their system is flawed?"
Her eyes widened. "No, no, no. That's not at all what I meant! I meant that you'll be happier if you actually like him when you win."
"When? When I win?"
"Of course, George, I have no doubt that you can win."
George frowned and muttered, "Thanks Mother. I'm gonna go now."
"Have a fun time!" she exclaimed and went into her room across the hall.
George sighed and ran a hand through his hair, hoping... no praying that he could figure himself out before the next event in the tournament took place.
He left the castle and entered the town, strolling the streets. Clay had told George that he'd find him, so George took his time walking, peering into closed shop windows. He saw the docks by the shore, but he didn't approach them.
"Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Clay called from behind him.
George couldn't help the grin that creeped on his face as he turned around, musing, "Does that make you Juliet?"
Clay laughed and approached George, "Sure, I can be Juliet. Her character is far more interesting than the infatuated Romeo."
"Whatever you say."
"So... you're not denying it?"
"Denying what?"
Clay paused dramatically before saying with a teasing grin, "That we're two star-crossed lovers destined to be together forever."
George's grin faded and he asked in a serious tone, "Why did you tell me to come here, Clay?"
The grin on the prince's face fell away as he took in George's new attitude. He searched George's face, trying to decipher what was going on in George's mind, but George just held his even stare and blank face.
"I... I thought it would be nice to hang out," Clay said, cringing at his words.
"Why?"
"I thought you'd want to, after what happened."
George dared to ask, "And what exactly happened?"
Clay frowned. "I-I said some things."
George didn't push any further. He looked away from Clay and turned to look at the docks, watching the boats float noiselessly in the ocean, the water brushing against the dark wood. Clay walked over and stood next to George, following his line of sight.
"Wanna go on one?" Clay asked quietly.
"No," George muttered.
"Oh, yes you do," Clay said as he stepped in front of George, "I can see it in your eyes."
"I really don't want to," George said with a sigh.
"Fine, I'll just go by myself."
George watched Clay walk onto the docks, following behind hesitantly. The wood creaked beneath their boots, threatening to break into the dark water below them. Clay approached a boat and walked up the slanted platform connecting the boat to the dock.
George stopped, not following. "Are you sure this is allowed?"
Clay flashed him a grin from the boat. "George, we're literally princes, of course it's allowed. Now come up here."
George eyes the boat warily. He wasn't afraid of the boat or the water, but rather, he was afraid of what getting on the boat would mean to Clay. George crossed his arms and shook his head.
Clay sighed and took a step onto the wooden platform, holding his hand out to George while holding onto the boat with another. The prince's eyes pleaded for George to take his hand.
"Trust me?" Clay asked.
George glanced between Clay and his outstretched hand. He nodded slowly and took Clay's hand.
George's cold hand met a warm one and Clay helped him onto the boat. He quickly released Clay's hand as soon as he was fully on the boat. George walked past the prince and wandered around the boat deck.
He peeked into several empty barrels and chests. George looked around curiously, never having been on a boat before. He tipped his head up and noted the sails, which were wrapped up. The masts towered above him, making George feel small in comparison.
He could feel Clay watching him, but he didn't say anything, used to the feeling of the prince's eyes on him. George walked to the edge of the boat and looked down briefly before walking towards the helm of the boat. His fingers ran along the rail of the boat as he took the steps up to reach the helm.
George's jaw went slack at the vast expanse of the ocean spread out in front of him, in awe at the peacefulness of it all. The waves were quiet on the windless night and the moon wasn't full. George smiled softly at the thought of all the possible places he could go on a boat, wondering what lied across the ocean.
George took a step forward and his hands reached out to grasp the steering wheel of the ship. His fingers traced over the wheel's handles as he looked over the ocean. He didn't hear Clay approach.
"Where would you go?" Clay asked quietly, "If you could travel anywhere?"
George kept his gaze ahead and whispered, "Somewhere... somewhere where I could be free... free of the responsibility of being... me."
Clay didn't reply, instead he took a step closer to George. His chest pressed against George's back as he reached around George and gripped the steering wheel, his hands brushing George's.
"I would go as far as I could go," Clay murmured, his breath tickling George's neck, "and find a place where I didn't have to be a prince, or a king."
George's eyes shut and he instinctively leaned back into Clay's warmth. Clay's nose brushed the shell of George's ear, causing him to shiver at the sensitivity. The prince brushed a finger over George's hand, soothing George's growing panic.
"I would take you with me," Clay whispered, "...we could travel the world together."
George smiled softly as he admitted, "I'd like that."
"Me too."
George's eyes opened and he turned around to face Clay. The prince's face glowed under the gentle lights of the sky, his features devastatingly beautiful at this time of night. George's breath caught in his throat and he looked away.
"For I never saw true beauty till this night," Clay murmured.
George's eyes widened at the quote and he looked back to Clay. The prince's eyes raked over George's face, taking in everything he could.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I never saw true beauty till this night, the full quote echoed in George's mind. His knees almost gave out at the mention of it...at the meaning of it.
Clay brought his hand to George's cheek and George leaned into it, his eyes closing. His lips brushed against Clay's palm and the prince inhaled. Clay lifted his other hand to George's cheek and lifted his chin up.
George's eyes opened and watched Clay, his heart irregularly calm instead of the usual racing panic. Clay's brows were drawn together in a strain as he looked at George's lips. Clay swallowed and looked away, his gaze returning a moment later to look George in the eyes.
George's eyes landed upon Clay's wrist, where his scar was peaking out. George stared at the risen flesh. Clay noticed the change of George's attention and his hands fell from George's face. He studied George for a second before rolling up his sleeve.
Clay held his arm out for George to see and George grasped Clay's arm, running his fingers along the long, jagged scar. He looked up to Clay with a question in his eyes.
Clay hesitated before muttering, "I was stupid once."
He said that like it explained everything. George gave him an unimpressed look, causing Clay to shift on his feet.
"I, uh... it was an accident."
"What happened?" George asked quietly.
Clay looked at his scar with a pained expression and muttered, "I was... I was going through a rough time and desperate for attention."
George brushed his thumb over the sensitive skin on Clay's forearm, causing the prince to shiver. Clay mumbled, "It happened many years ago, when I was fifteen maybe? Uh, it was after I met my friend, Sapnap... his family was going through a tough time and I wanted to help them."
Clay paused and met George's gaze before saying, "My parents wouldn't accept Sapnap into the guard because of his family's poverty... so I did the only thing I could think of to get their attention and listen to me for once."
George's face saddened and he whispered, "You... you tried to kill yourself?"
"No," Clay said with a wince, "I don't really know what I was trying to accomplish by slicing my arm open with a glass shard. I just know that it worked and Sapnap was allowed into guard training."
George winced at the blunt statement, prompting Clay to add quietly, "My parents never commented on my actions. They acted like they didn't care, and maybe they didn't, I'll never know. All I know is that I woke up alone in the castle infirmary with a heavy bandage on my arm."
"I..." George breathed. He pulled Clay into a hug, murmuring, "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."
"Well, Sapnap did visit," Clay added with a weak laugh.
George hugged him tighter. "You're not alone anymore."
Clay froze before relaxing and murmuring, "Thank you."
George nodded slowly, realizing what he was doing. He didn't back out of the hug, however, and let Clay be the one to disconnect them. George stepped back and crossed his arms, trying to hide himself as he looked away. He was as confused as ever, his brain struggling with thousands of thoughts.
No thoughts of fear. George realized that he wasn't scared of Clay, just the thought of what they could be, what they could have. George blinked at the thought, slowly looking back to Clay.
Clay studied George's pained expression and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," George said quickly, "nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect, you're perfect."
George's voice quieted at the last sentence, but Clay pushed the compliment away, saying, "Something is on your mind, what is it?"
More like in my mind, George thought, thinking about the thing in his head. He looked at the prince for a moment, realizing that he now understood what kind of person Clay was. Selfless, caring, and putting others first. George decided to open up to the person in front of him, wanting to know more, to share more.
"I... there's this voice," George whispered, "in my head."
Clay's brows furrowed and he asked, "What?"
George looked away and muttered, "It's been there for as long as I can remember, haunting my thoughts and actions..." George whispered, his voice shaking, "It tells me these horrible things."
He swallowed and Clay's face softened, but he was still clearly confused. The prince asked, "What kinds of things?"
George held Clay's stare and said in a quiet voice, "Things like... harming people, harming you. Uh, it says it wants power, control. I know that I have control over me, I'm supposed to. It's my mind, my body... but I feel like I'm losing more and more of myself every time it speaks... like it's eating away at me."
Now that George thought about it, the voice always seemed to want to ruin George's chances at love. It wanted power at the expense of others. It wanted to win the tournament, no matter the cost, not for the prince's hand in marriage, but for more power and control.
Clay's expression went from confused to horrified to sad. He grasped George's hands and whispered, "What's it saying now?"
"Nothing," George breathed, "it's gone when I'm near you... when I can feel you."
Clay's eyes flickered in recognition. "Like that time in the gardens."
George nodded and Clay squeezed his hands. George could tell that the prince was still confused, but Clay didn't ask George to explain any further. They stood together, staring into each other's eyes, finally beginning to understand each other.
After wordless minutes, they walked back to the castle, hand in hand. Clay rubbing small circles on George's hand in attempts to keep the voice away for good. He walked George to his room.
They stopped outside George's room and Clay cupped George's face with his hands. He pulled George close and kissed the top of George's head, his nose brushing George's hair. George's breath hitched and Clay held him there for only a too short of time.
Clay pulled away, murmuring, "Parting is such a sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight till it be tomorrow."
George's breath caught in his throat at yet another quote, spoken by Clay from memory with such meaning, such sincerity, that George couldn't help but be in awe of Clay. In awe of who he was.
Clay stroked his cheek and his hands reluctantly left George's face. He lifted George's hand and kissed it, bowing in goodbye. George found that he had no words to express the river of emotions running through him.
"Goodnight, George," Clay whispered and turned around, his eyes unwanting to leave George's.
George watched the prince walk away in the silence of the night, his hand still in the air, longing for Clay's touch.
George's heart was conflicted as he breathed, "Goodnight, Clay."
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a/n - hello everyone, how are we feeling?
this is definitely more of a slow burn compared to my other books lol. I kinda like writing this type of stuff, lots of things ahead
goodbye!! ILY <3