“I find it ridiculous that you’re trying to avoid me and yet the library is the first place you decide to hide in,” Tommy says, leaning against a bookshelf.
Afternoon sunlight flows in through large, arch-shaped windows. Techno sits on one of the couches placed in the reading section of the library, an opened book on his knees, and rectangle-shaped glasses hanging loosely on his nose. The general doesn’t do as much as raise his head in response to Tommy’s words. Tommy was willing to bet that Techno knew he was coming from far off.
“I’d rather call it discreetly eschewing a topic of personal discomfort,” Techno says.
Tommy huffs. Techno is anything but discreet, at least when it comes to social interactions. If he doesn’t like someone, it’ll show. If he avoids talking about a certain topic, he’ll try to joke his way out of the conversation in the most blatant way possible. That’s what happened yesterday, when Tommy tried to bring up the state of border territories during their shared lunch.
“I just remembered that I need to attend to Carl,” Techno had said, even though Tommy was literally there to watch him fuss around his horse less than an hour ago. “It’s an emergency.”
Techno’s cover was blown off before it appeared in the first place. Tommy decided not to push him yet then, but they had to talk about it at some point. He technically could request Techno’s full written report from the Emperor – but he was curious about the reasoning of his brother’s weird behavior.
Now, Techno doesn’t try to dismiss himself with another ridiculous excuse. Tommy’s presence is ignored altogether up until he slides into an armchair next to Techno and unceremoniously snatches his book.
“Excuse me?” Techno grunts, finally turning his attention to Tommy. “I just got to the most interesting part.”
“You’ve read everything in this library at least twice, anyway,” Tommy glances at the book’s cover, then at the thick tomes stacked on a table to Techno’s right. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day to hear you call politics interesting.”
Techno hums out an agreement. “I’m amazing at politics, actually. You should start fearing for your position, Imperial prince.”
Tommy feels like rolling his eyes. His gaze runs along the lines of the book and skids to a halt when he sees a dragon curled up into a ring in the corner of the page. The emblem of Esempi’s royal family. “Any particular reason as to why you took interest in our neighbors’ affairs all of a sudden?”
“Just revising,” Techno says, but Tommy feels like he has tugged at the right thread.
“Does it have something to do with why you refuse to talk to me about your trip? Have there been more skirmishes along the borders than usual?” Tommy’s tone is nothing if not demanding. He sounds rushed, too. The way Techno’s brows move, rising up to his forehead, makes Tommy realize he started frowning.
He fixes his expression in an instant, but Techno’s not looking at him anymore. Deep in thought, he runs a hand down his face and sighs. “No,” he says. “And that is the problem.”
Tommy falls quiet. Techno doesn’t sound like he is joking. “How so?”
Techno leans over to him and points at a paragraph in the book. “Schlatt’s reign and the follow-up rebellion. A number of countries took advantage of the devastation in the kingdom to salvage the unprotected lands, and the Antarctic empire is not an exception.”
This part of the history happened around the time that Tommy was born. Esempi has made several attempts to negotiate about returning its territories when Queen Caroline came to rule – but without any major success. Tension on the borders is like a field of dry grass, Tommy knows - not once or twice Imperial army’s soldiers had to interfere to prevent it from getting set aflame.
“It’s been eerily quiet for the past few months. I don’t have a good feeling about it,” Techno says.
Too quiet , it echoes in Tommy’s mind, is never good . The armchair he sits on suddenly becomes hard and uncomfortable. “I trust your judgment, but… is there at least a slim chance that your cautiousness is making you see threats where they don’t exist?”
“That’s the reason I didn’t want to talk to you about it yet. You tend to overthink more than I do, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you with something that I’m not sure about on top of your regular duties.”
Tommy presses his lips into a thin line. “I believe that protecting the Empire is also one of my responsibilities,” he argues.
“That’s true,” Techno agrees, putting a hand over Tommy’s. “But it’s my responsibility to protect you .”
Tommy falls quiet. He stares at Techno’s hand, tracing a particularly long scar running from his thumb all the way down to his wrist. It’s almost exactly six years old – six years since Tommy’s investiture as the crown-prince of the Antarctic empire.
Techno was far away from the capital when it happened. Even so, a few days later, the prince burst through the front gates, his horse huffing and sweating heavily under him. With his eyes glaring blood crimson, his cape fluttering behind his back as he crossed the palace in long, determined steps, people scattered away from him like dominoes. A stuttering servant came knocking on Tommy’s door, reporting that Prince Technoblade had just returned to the palace and was currently in the Northern wing.
By the time Tommy made it to his father’s chambers, whatever conversation Techno and the Emperor might have had turned into a full-on argument. Neither of them ever were the shouting type; all the more terrifying it was to hear objects flying across the room, glass shattering, and something heavy falling on the floor.
“- the same mistake as I did with Wilbur. He wasn’t ready, so he snapped.”
“So?” Techno’s tone made Tommy shudder. He has never heard his brother this angry before. “Are you going to make Theseus pay the price?”
Tommy tugged at the handle. He entered the room, closing the door behind himself, and scanned his surroundings with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Almost all the furniture was either overturned or misplaced; a heavy blue curtain, ripped off the window, lied pitifully under Father’s feet. Techno was across the room, next to a pile of broken glass. Blood flowed down his hand, dripping on a rug, but he didn’t seem to notice it at all.
“Don’t blame Father,” Tommy said, his head drooping. “The Empire would not be stable without a clear heir. His Imperial Majesty didn’t even consider my candidature until I proposed it myself.”
“You’re eleven, Theseus,” Techno spat. “You’re too young to make that kind of choice.”
“Wilbur has been the crown-prince since he was six,” Tommy muttered.
“It was a formality ! He didn’t perform any actual duties until his adulthood.”
Techno looked exasperated, angry, but more than anything – simply sad. It broke Tommy’s heart to see him like this. He wanted to come closer and comfort Techno, but Father had already beaten him to it.
“We’ll take it slow,” he moved across the room, gently taking Techno’s injured hand into his own. Their father’s calm voice and unwavering confidence finally made his anger shrink and back away. Techno blinked numbly at the blood smearing both their fingers. “For now, I’m only going to start teaching Theseus the basics.”
Techno let out a long, exhausted sigh of defeat. He turned away from Father and approached Tommy, putting both his hands on his shoulders. The proximity of Techno’s eyes, the crystal honesty and sheer emotion in them was both terrifying and reassuring.
“I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you, Theseus.”
“I know,” Tommy said, a crooked smile on his lips. “But no matter what you say, you can’t make me change my choice.”
“Then I shall protect you with my life,” Techno promised.
Now, six years later, Tommy could say that he has made everything in his power to keep that promise. Teaching him how to protect himself was only one of the things he’d done for that. Techno couldn’t always be by his side, however, and Tommy would be lying if he said that he didn’t sometimes resent him for it.
It was unfair of him – Techno was the Empire’s servant before anything else, much like Tommy himself – and he shouldn’t have wished for anything more than his family was able provide for him. It’s just that a week or two of Techno’s presence didn’t feel enough when Tommy never knew for how long his brother would disappear again: three months or five, or perhaps for an entire year. (It's always far too long to spend without the last person who feels like Tommy's family.)
There was a hope, a tender selfish thing, that this time, there was no other motive to Techno’s return other than that he missed Tommy. The disappointment Tommy feels now is a well-deserved punishment for his selfish wishes.
“I believe there is a saying in the Esempi,” Tommy says. “It sounds vaguely like this - if you can’t spot a storm on the horizon, there is always a possibility that it’s starting right over your head. Is this why you returned? Do you think that the storm might be brewing here, in the capital?”
Techno hums. “We need to take extra precautions, Theseus.” He squeezes Tommy’s hand tighter. “In these dangerous times, I’d rather be here, protecting you, rather than out in the field and anxious every second that I don’t know what’s happening at home.”
Warmth spreads through Tommy’s chest. In the end, all Techno thinks of is their family’s safety and well-being. Tommy lets himself lean against Techno’s shoulder, lightly enough so that he would barely feel his weight. If Techno says he needs to be more cautious, he will be, but right now, he is just happy to have his brother close.
“They say that catfights in high society can be more dangerous than wielding a sword on a battlefield,” Tommy says.
“That’s your strong suit, not, mine,” Techno ruffles his hair. “Let’s count this as my temporary retirement, and I’ll let you handle the part that involves socializing with people.”
“Like the opening ceremony?” Tommy huffs.
Techno dips his chin. “Spare me from participating, and I shall pledge my loyalty to you.”
Tommy tries to hide his smile. Techno would do that either way- after Tommy becomes an Emperor, that is, so there isn't a real need for an oath now. Besides, Techno really does need to appear in public every now and then, or people of the Empire might actually forget what the oldest Antarctic prince looks like.
Techno throws his braid over his shoulder. Tommy rethinks his own words. With the way Techno’s white hair glints, fresh snow under afternoon sun, it’s only natural that he catches gazes from nobles and regular people alike. Tommy suspects that this might be the cause of Techno’s contempt towards social events. Who knows, if he didn’t get sick of extra attention during his childhood, maybe he would’ve tolerated it better as an adult.
Despite his eyesight problems, Techno has phenomenal hearing. Tommy knows that someone is approaching the moment Techno turns his head. He squirms in his seat and follows a narrowed gaze of the general’s eyes until he can see two tall figures striding to them from the main part of the library.
The moment Tommy recognizes Wilbur and Ranboo, the comfortable atmosphere, that small bubble of warmth and safety meant just for him and Techno, was cruelly stomped on. Wilbur wields a ponderous folder, smiling with everything but his eyes, and Ranboo sneaks behind him like a timid cat, ready to bolt. The only thing that’s really missing is a tail he could wrap around his leg or ears to pin against his skull.
“Who’s that?” Techno asks.
Tommy does his best not to snarl when his and Ranboo’s eyes meet, and the commoner quickly averts his gaze. “An inconvenience.”
Techno rolls his eyes. “I can see Wilbur. I mean the guy next to him.”
A laughing fit rises up from Tommy’s stomach. He wants to wheeze out loud, but the newcomers cross the room in a few long steps, putting them into an earshot distance. Tommy coughs into his fist and lowers his eyes to the book on his lap.
“Techno. Theseus,” Wilbur grins. “What a coincidence that we ran into each other.”
“It’s rather hard to miss the entire squad of Theseus’ personal security stomping around the library doors,” Techno says. “But what a miraculous coincidence indeed.”
Wilbur laughs. “And that’s why you’re my favorite brother.”
Tommy grips the book tighter. He glares at Wilbur, and finds his brother smirking smugly; by all means, Wilbur looks like he’d expected this reaction and was quite satisfied with it. That kind of expression never leads to anything good for Tommy. What is it that Wilbur is planning this time?
Ranboo peeks from behind Wilbur’s shoulder and shudders when Techno’s eyes fall on him.
“You must be prince Technoblade,” Ranboo asks. His eyes, red and green, flicker between Wilbur and Techno. “Do- aren’t you supposed to be twins?”
“He’s adopted,” Wilbur and Techno say at the same time.
“They are fraternal,” Tommy closes the book shut, bringing everyone’s attention to himself. “Did you want something, Prince Wilbur?”
“I believe I am to be helping you with the celebratory organizations,” Wilbur shows him the folder. “And since the opening ceremony will be held tomorrow evening, I assume it’d be better if we got to work immediately.”
Tommy taps his finger on his knee. He knew they’d get to it eventually, but somehow, Wilbur always chooses the worst possible moment to appear. “Right,” Tommy mumbles., standing up. Even if he hasn’t made a promise to spend the afternoon with Techno, it’s a matter of politeness to apologize for leaving anyway. “Prince Techno-“
“Don’t worry about it,” Techno brushes him off. “I have my books to keep me entertained.”
“Actually,” Wilbur slides in, “Ranboo here has taken a liking to the Imperial library. I wondered if you could show him around and help him choose a book.”
An alarm goes off in Tommy’s head. At this point, he isn’t surprised with the sheer amount of disrespect coming from Ranboo, and that Wilbur doesn’t do anything to cut it short. Quite the opposite, he induces it by acting like Ranboo’s doings don’t break at least ten different rules a second.
The head general of the Empire’s army should not be even bothered to look in the direction of a simple commoner.
Much like the Emperor.
And much like the Antarctic princes.
Tommy clenches his jaw. Is this what Wilbur is doing? Does he want Ranboo to get on Techno’s good side and irritate Tommy further? A strange sort of burn arises in him at the thought. For some reason, just seeing Ranboo in such close proximity to Techno doesn’t sit well with him. He stands there, unmoving, but internally really, really wishes for Techno to send Ranboo away.
Alas. Techno glances at Ranboo with something akin to curiosity. Ranboo shrinks away- at least Tommy can see that he wasn’t entirely on board with Wilbur’s proposition. A living toothpick of a person that Ranboo is doesn’t seem to register as a threat in Techno’s eyes. He shrugs and says, “I don’t see why not.”
***
“I think Techno and Ranboo are going to get along greatly,” Wilbur says, a few minutes later, when the two of them leave the library and head in the direction of Tommy’s office.
“That or they’re going to sit in awkward silence for two hours straight,” Tommy says.
Wilbur laughs softly. It’s a genuine sound, Tommy can tell – and it almost makes him want to join along. The key word, almost. He chooses to look away, absently noting the servants and guards following them along. Tubbo came apologizing again earlier this morning – and he’s amongst them, though even quieter than usual; he seems to be hiding in other people’s shadows rather than trailing Tommy, a few steps behind and off to the right, like he usually would. Nevertheless, upon Tommy’s gesture, Tubbo joins him and Wilbur at the office, and watches as the two brothers start their discussion.
“All in all, we should be all good for the first day of the celebrations,” Tommy says. Before him are the reports from the palace stewards – about what has been prepared so far and what is requested further. “But just in case, it wouldn’t hurt to check up on our guests one last time.”
“I can do that,” Wilbur agrees, taking the list of the foreign visitors and the chambers that were assigned to them. “What about the Banquet?”
“It’ll be held in the Blue Sky room,” Tommy says. “If you take care of the food, I’ll leave the entertainment part to myself.”
They continue like this for a while: separating duties and making decisions collectively where it’s required. Tommy has a bad habit of concentrating on certain things too much, while paying little to no attention to others – for that reason he has no other choice but to check over his own work a few times afterwards. Wilbur catches these moments in the process, so what would usually take Tommy hours and hours of nitpicking gets solved in record time.
It’s one of the cases when he is reminded that Wilbur was raised as the crown-prince. It’s odd that Tommy forgets it in the first place, given that the sole reason that he was able to take over this position was that he used to trail his brother into his classes. Tommy joined Wilbur at history, geography, economics – even in the administrative classes, his blond mop of hair would stick out of ‘inconspicuous’ hiding spots.
Truth to be told, he was more of a persistent distraction than a careful listener, but Wilbur always managed to talk the teachers into letting him stay. When Wilbur reached adulthood, and his theoretical knowledge had to be put into practice, Tommy found out that he did manage to pick up on some skills and information, after all.
“I’ll tackle this pile,” Tommy had said, chewing on an apple, and pointing at a small tower of papers. “And you take the other one.”
“That’s not fair,” Wilbur groaned. “Mine’s like, ten times higher than yours.”
Tommy threw the half-finished apple, and it hit Wilbur right across his forehead. “Oi, you dickhead! It’s your work, not mine. Maybe I shouldn’t help you at all, then.”
“You gremlin,” Wilbur grumped, picking up the apple. He made a disgusted face and tossed it into a trash can. “Wash your hands, at least, or you’re going to get the papers stained.”
These were simpler times. People are right when they say that we don’t appreciate the things we have until they are taken away. Tommy has his brothers back; both of them, but not the connection they used to share. It’s simply the months and years they had spent apart – time tends to change people, and there is nothing he can do about it.
For the most part, Tommy had come to terms with it, but in moments like this, when he gets a dive into his own memories, he feels like there is a hole deep under his ribs – a longing for something that has been long since lost.
Tommy must have been spacing out for far too long, because the next thing he knows, Wilbur’s voice shoves him back into reality.
“What’s the matter, Theseus?” he says. “You look like you’ve eaten something sour.”
“I’d say that I rather saw something unpleasant.” Ugly, Tommy means. “That may or may not have been your face.”
“How rude,” Wilbur sighs. “No wonder Tubbo decided to finally ditch you.”
Tommy freezes. “ What ?”
Wilbur leans forward, propping up his chin, with that sly and needle-sharp expression on his face that makes Tommy think of a fox. ““Oh, I thought Tubbo already told you that he’ll be Ranboo’s servant starting from the day after tomorrow,” he says. “Guess he did not.”
They both turn their attention to Tubbo. He goes rigid, making a noticeable step back, but doesn’t jump to defend himself, to argue. He simply stares. Tommy doesn’t see the point of asking whether Wilbur’s words are true – Tubbo’s reaction had already given him all the answers he needed.
“You're leaving me,” he says, dumbfounded.
Tubbo dips his head. "I don't feel like you require my services anymore, Your Highness,” he says. “Ranboo, on the other hand, has nobody in the palace. He needs a helping hand and a friend.”
But you are my friend , Tommy wants to argue, but- is it even true at this point?
They swore to always be by each other’s side; they assumed that fate would keep them together till their very last breathes. These were childish promises, of course – and now Tommy sees that more clearly than ever.
Tubbo chose Ranboo, a practical stranger, over their life-long friendship. The signs were there: how stiff and closed off Tubbo acted, how he preferred Ranboo’s company over his, and the fact that he talked to the Emperor about him behind his back, and yet -
“I’m quite disappointed,” Tommy says. Angry, hurt, betrayed . “Someone of your status, Tubbo- and serving a commoner?”
Tubbo clenches his fingers into fists. “What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong?” Tommy splutters, slamming his hands on the desk. “You are a noble, Tubbo, and Ranboo is nobody-”
“He isn’t nobody,” Tubbo cuts in, glaring. “Ranboo is a good friend.”
Something that you are not , it feels like Tubbo says.
Tommy falls silent. He bites on his tongue, hard, to prevent himself from shouting. Pain clears his thoughts. The anger is not gone – it’s still here, boiling his insides – but he has vague control over how much of it he lets out.
“Is this your final decision?” he asks coldly.
Tubbo shrinks back, eyes wide. “W-what?”
“Are you ready to throw everything that you’ve built this far?” Tommy elaborates. “Your status, your reputation? Because if your answer is yes, I’m never taking you back, even if you come to me crawling on your knees.”
A second passes. Two, three, ten – a pained expression flashes on Tubbo’s face, and then it’s replaced with a mask of determination. “Yes, Your Imperial Highness,” he says.
***
After his and Tubbo’s fallout, Tommy feels empty. Wilbur, with a look of a person who just witnessed a particularly interesting show, smirks and throws remarks at him – the worst Tommy does in response is glare.
Hedoesn’t believe Wilbur’s words even for a second. The prince knew that Tubbo hadn't talked to him about changing positions yet, and with a few well-timed words, had thrown them at each other’s throats. Would it change the final outcome – Tubbo leaving him – if Wilbur hasn’t sped things up? Most certainly not, but at least Tommy wouldn’t feel as awful about it.
When Wilbur is upset, he shouts. When Techno is upset, he finds something to stab or punch. When Tommy is upset, however, he doesn’t want to burn that energy for nothing and shoves himself head-first to work. Now that he had sorted half of the matters with Wilbur, there was technically nothing urgent that he could keep himself busy with. If the secretary wonders why Tommy asks for the monthly budget spendings a week in advance of the usual date, he doesn’t say anything about it.
“Your Highness, Prince Dream is here to see you.”
Among all the things Tommy thought that could interrupt his work the next day, the crown-prince of the Esempi on his doorstep was the last of them. He sends the servant away, throws a dark-blue coat over the shirt he was wearing, and opens the doors himself.
Dream is alone in the corridor. He stands, relaxed, idly gazing at the flower patterns on the walls. Tommy throws an indiscreet look around and finds neither his knight Sapnap nor any of the servants from Esempi in close sight. Whatever reason has pushed Dream to seek him, it must be something private.
They exchange short bows – not a necessity, considering their equal status, but a sign of politeness and respect. “Prince Dream,” Tommy says. “What do I owe the honor for your visit?”
“I came to request a tour around the palace.”
Tommy hums. He understands Dream’s curiosity, but finds it odd that the prince decided to seek him personally rather than sending his request via a servant. “If that is the case, I’ll find someone to accompany you right away-”
“You misunderstood,” Dream cuts in. “I was hoping that you might show me around, Imperial Prince.”
“Me?” Tommy curves a brow.
Dream tilts his head. It reminds Tommy distantly of the way Wilbur does it when talking about an obvious thing. “Of course,” he says. “Nobody knows one’s home better than its owner. If somebody can show me the true beauty of the palace, it’d be you.”
Well- it’s not an unreasonable request. Tommy wonders if Dream speaks his true intentions or whether it’s just a polite way of saying that he’d be offended to be accompanied by anyone with lesser status. He doesn’t give off the impression of an arrogant type, but then again, Tommy sees him for the second time in his life, and is yet to figure out the crown-prince’s true nature.
Either way, Tommy already has decided on his answer. The Emperor asked him to be considerate towards the important guest, and work is not an excuse good enough to send Dream away, especially when the prince came searching for him personally.
“If you insist, I shall be your guide,” Tommy says.
Painted ceilings, lush gardens, columns decorated with lazuli and gold – if half of the things Tommy heard about the Dragon’s bay that hosts Esempi’s capital, Dream isn’t going to be surprised or impressed by neither of these things. With the mask obscuring the prince’s face, Tommy can’t tell if he’s already annoyed or bored. More unnerving is that Dream has barely said anything this far, so Tommy hasn't had a chance to start a proper conversation. He leads the prince past the bush labyrinth, trying to think of where he could bring them next, when he sees Wilbur approaching from afar.
Tommy wants nothing more than to run in an opposite direction. He wouldn’t dare to do that even if there was a single servant to witness his cowardly behavior, let alone a prince of a neighboring kingdom, so he dips his head in greeting instead.
Wilbur's eyes pass him like there is nothing but air in his place. Tommy straightens up and awkwardly backs away. He feels like Dream is watching him, but can't tell for sure because of the mask. His ears burn with embarrassment nevertheless.
“Prince Dream,” Wilbur greets. “I believe we haven’t met yet.”
Rules of etiquette say that the one either of lower status or of younger age is obliged to introduce two unacquainted parties. Tommy leans in Wilbur’s direction and says, “Prince Dream, this is Prince Wilbur of the Antarctic empire, the second son of Emperor Philza.”
Dream hums. It’s a short, acknowledging sound that sounds almost sinister with the way the prince tilts his head. “I wondered when we would get a chance to make ourselves familiar,” Dream says.
Tommy watches from the sidelines as two princes exchange pleasantries. Two princes wearing masks , a sudden thought pops up in his head. Only that Dream’s mask hides his physical appearance, while Wilbur puts on his friendly cover to make other people relax around him. Why bother trying to learn of someone’s weakness when they are so ready to spill it themselves, after all?
Sometimes, Tommy wonders if it’s all just a game to Wilbur. A game where other people are figures or cards he can twist around as he wants, push to their limit, and throw away when they aren’t useful or fun anymore. Maybe that’s why Wilbur is so adamant about getting to Tommy - that one card that refuses to give him the satisfaction of seeing it crumble.
“From as far as I know, this is your first time visiting the Empire,” Wilbur smiles. “Can I perhaps offer you a tour around the palace?”
“Thank you,” Dream says. “But it’s fine. Prince Theseus here has already been a good guide.”
“Oh?” Wilbur’s eyes flicker over to Tommy. “I hope my little brother hasn’t said anything rude to you. Unfortunately, he can be a little tactless from time to time.”
Here it is. Not a single thought as to how this could affect Tommy’s reputation and the Imperial family’s relationship with Prince Dream; only pure malice, a desire to cut to the heart and hurt Tommy as much as he can. Tommy keeps his eyes trained on the ground. His mind is an endless chant of don't react, don't provoke him further.
"I assure you that I'd make for much better company," Wilbur continues. "Or, if you insist, all three of us could take a walk together.”
People in high society don’t turn down these sorts of offers. It’s simply not polite. Tommy braces himself for the moment Dream confirms his agreement, and a sour tour will follow where he’ll have to trail the older princes like a worthless shadow. It’s obvious that he won’t get to talk freely when Wilbur’s there to turn the flow of conversation; he’ll either get ignored or humiliated, depending on how generous his brother feels today.
Dream lingers with his answer. The silence lasts only a second or two but it slices Tommy’s ears. From where he stands, he can see Dream’s hands moving behind his back. He looks like Techno when he itches to grab his sword. “I apologize, Prince Wilbur,” he says. “But three is a crowd.”
His harsh tone catches Tommy by surprise. Dream walks past Wilbur; the older prince has to take a step back to avoid getting shoved out of the way. “Let’s resume our tour, Prince Theseus,” Dream says, throwing a glance over his shoulder.
Tommy blinks, snapping out of his blank stupor, and follows Dream a second later. That was certainly… Something. Even if Dream’s words were polite, his whole demeanor made a strong impression that he dislikes Wilbur. It twists Tommy’s insides to think that Wilbur managed to make an enemy of a neighbor crown-prince on the first day of their acquaintance.
Dream stops. After almost bumping into his back, Tommy does too. Just a second ago, Wilbur was near them – but now they are in a deeper part of the gardens, not a single servant in sight. “Is it the mask?” Dream asks.
Tommy still floats somewhere in his own mind as Dreams reaches for the straps at the back of his head. With a soft click, his mask falls into his hand. Strands of rusty golden hair, a tone or two darker than Tommy’s own but more saturated in color, fall on his forehead and brush his freckle-covered cheeks. Emerald-green eyes seem all too piercing in combination with his thin, curved brows.
He looks… Normal. Not that Tommy expected the royal family of Esempi to be some sort of faceless monsters – but it still feels odd, since he has never seen King Foolish without his mask. He averts his gaze on instinct. Dream stops him with a quick gesture, “The mask is mostly a formality,” he reassures. “You’re not breaking any rules by looking.”
Curiously, Tommy glances back up. Dream smiles at him in an oddly friendly way. There is something familiar in the way he looks at Tommy that he can’t quite place.
“Is this better?” Dream asks.
It is . But it’d be rude and disrespectful to the Esempi and its crown-prince if he admitted it out loud. Tommy musters out a polite smile. “I’m not bothered by it.”
Dream raises his mask, but to Tommy’s internal relief, doesn’t hide his face again. Instead, he moves it in a way that it’s placed at the side of his head. “I apologize, then. You just seemed very tense a few moments ago.”
“You are not at blame.” Tommy takes a step sideways, inviting Dream to continue their walk. In the corner of his vision, he keeps a careful track of his expressions. “There is something else occupying my mind.”
A humming noise that Dream makes in response sounds like he had understood what Tommy was referring to. “The prince that we ran into- is he the one who gave up the throne and ran away from his responsibilities?”
Tommy’s body goes rigid. He stops. Tommy can hear Dream’s steps coming to a halt to his left. He whips around and comes face-to-face with the prince.
Tommy has to tilt his chin up so he can look directly into Dream’s eyes. “With all due respect, Prince Dream – if you got the impression that I am the type of person to gossip about my brother behind his back,” Tommy says, backing up his words with a sharp glare, “then you’re terribly wrong.”
In the reflection in Dream’s eyes, every little feature of Tommy’s face bristles in a cold scowl. He can’t remember the last time he got so defensive about his family. The nobles in the Empire have long since learned that spreading and discussing rumors about Wilbur and Fundy in front of the crown-prince might have dire consequences.
A crown-prince holds the power over his subjects, but foreigners are a completely different story. Tommy shouldn’t be as snappy with the successor of the throne of a powerful neighbor kingdom, yet at the same time, he feels little to no regret about his words, still clenching his hands into fists.
“It’s my mistake for being inconsiderate with my question,” Dream says. “But after Prince Wilbur was so disrespectful to you, I can’t help but wonder- why are you defending him?”
He sounds simply curious. Tommy still feels like a spear was put right through his heart. His shoulders fall down along with his limbs, suddenly becoming weak and heavy.
It’s surprising that Dream called out Wilbur’s behavior. Most people trust his words right away, like the Emperor, or pass it as simple sibling bickering as Techno does. Tommy never tried to enlighten either of them- but it’s not something that a stranger needs to know about. And neither does Dream need to know that Tommy cares about Wilbur too much to let others ponder on his grief.
Tommy closes his eyes for a moment, and when opens them again, his expression is carefully managed and unreadable. “I care about the Empire, and can’t let the ruling’s family’s reputation be disrupted like this.”
Dream hums out an acknowledgement. He doesn’t look angry. Tommy can only see curiosity that shifts into something different, something brighter and far more meaningful. “While I don’t entirely agree with you, Prince Theseus, I can understand your reasoning,” Dream says, “and I admire you for it. The Antarctic Empire must be truly happy to have you as the crown-prince.”
It finally dawns on Tommy what Dream's expression means. He looks impressed , which is... odd. Tommy had other people view him with cautiousness, irritation, dismissiveness – but never once before somebody looked at him with this respect. It’s how the heads of two mighty countries might view each other; or, perhaps… the crown-princes of an empire and a kingdom.
Tommy gets flustered all out of a sudden. The prince’s words are unexpected and almost out of place, but he can’t deny that deep, deep down, they feel good to hear.
“Thank you,” he says, hiding his unsure smile. “I appreciate it.”
They resume their walk.