Tonight was the night he was going to get that bastard of a Spaniard back for everything that had been going on the past couple of weeks. Making way to the Royal bedroom, he passed some other servants with the smuggest of looks on his face. The bell rang for two weeks, and he never answered. Antonio was getting frustrated, and Lovino was on cloud nine. He wallowed in it and relished it, smiling every time he passed his room and he didn't have to worry about walking in there and being taken advantage of.
"Your Highness," he knocked on the wood door, as the kingdom's finest tailor opened it. He was a nice man from Poland, and always willing to lend a hand. For years he was requested at the King and Queens side for elegant dresses and suits for any occasion. They were currently trying to convince him to open up a store in Spain.
"Yes? Oh, Lovino! You know Felix, sí? Well, he's here to show you the suits he picked out for you. I have a surprise too, but that's for later," she winked. For an older woman she knew how to have fun and be interesting. She wasn't just about drinking tea and making the ladies happy. Lovino knew her long enough to realize this.
"Wait, really? Didn't he take my measurements about a week ago?"
"Yes! Now," there was about 5 suits layed out on the bed, finely tailored and beautifully dyed. There were so many options. He had never worn a fine suit before; none the less one tailored for him personally. "Take your pick. When you want, get changed in the bathroom. The king will be waiting for you in his study."
"Alright," he finally picked out one, and carried it gently to the bathroom. He was afraid it would get ruined in some way, so he used the upmost care in putting it on. With a peek out of the bathroom door, he looked at Isabel, who was putting some makeup on and getting final adjustments on her dress done.
"Come out here now, don't be shy," she beckoned. "I want to see my prodigal prince for a fort night." With some amount of confidence, he walked out of the cracked door. The Polish man gasped and clapped his hands together.
You could see the gay come right off of him in waves of rainbow colors.
"Like, honey yes! Work it boy, work it! Give us a little turn," he spun his finger in unison with Lovino's body. "You look amazing! Now here's like, the crown you deserve for the night." The different crown design was presented to him. In the colors of the Italian flag, three gems for each band were spread equally around the middle. On the very tips were crosses, which only a small part of the cross even stuck out of the top. You could tell they were crosses only by the etching in the gold. This looked more official than the one he previously wore. Eyes wide open, he took the crown and placed it on his head. Every ounce of light hit it and accented his complexion and unique eyes, which were a mix between a green olive and a mossy green.
"I can't thank you enough, Your Highness. For everything you've done for me, even when I was a little bambino. I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything," she replied as she rushed him out of the door, "Ferdinand is waiting for you. Besides, people are flowing in steadily. The orchestra should be playing soon anyways." With a forced shove, doors closed behind him as he made way to the large study.
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"Sire? Mr. Vargas is here to see you."
"Ah," he heard him say from outside the door, "let him in. I've been expecting him."
"Thank you," he murmured to the man who opened the door, leading to the leader of the country. The King shared the looks with his two sons, with much darker hair which was tied back loosely in a ribbon. Afonso looked like a mini version of him; even more so than when he was a child. Medals of many things decorated his sash, and a sword was at his hip. He looked like a pirate, and he more or less was. He served in the Navy as a young prince, also like Afonso. Like father like son applied here perfectly. Grey hairs in his beard and roots give him a wise look, and wrinkles made him look almost youthful in a way.
"Well, you've come a long way, sí?" Lovino nodded timidly, as Ferdinand gestured for him to sit down in a luxurious purple chair. It was on top of a bear-skinned rug, and Lovino shifted his feet so they wouldn't be placed on top of the bear head. He felt it could have been disrespectful, in some odd way, to the majestic animal.
"Now, we have big expectations for you tonight. You know how to act around society, I'm sure. You don't have to dance, just converse. Your grandfather would be proud of you."
"My Nonno?" That was unusual. His grandfather was the reason he was here. He didn't remember him much, just that when he died they were taken here and he was eventually separated from his brother. Any memories he had were beautiful, and he loved his grandfather. Even if at times his grandfather payed more attention to his star child of a brother, he still was happy with him.
"Yes, your grandfather. He was a great man. He... was royalty too, Lovino. A Roman heir. The last one at that. He gave up his fortune for you and your brother. Technically, as the eldest child, you are an heir and the king of Rome. But since it isn't a country or empire anymore and down in the Southern half of Italy, you would rule that part of Italy. Your brother knows already that he is the ruler of North Italy. I know this may come as a shock, but the country has been running smoothly with the help of the regular government. Tonight is your unofficial coronation. I hope you'll enjoy yourself. Now, I'll dismiss you, Your Highness, for you have a Galla to attend." He waved him away, with no more words. He didn't even have time to ask questions. His mind was still reeling from the revelation. For now though, he had to focus on the task at hand. Antonio would be escorting him down to the dance, and he had never been so nervous in his life.
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Antonio was breathtaking. A red sash identical to his father was beautifully presented, as his suit was almost identical to Lovino. He had a rose tucked into his pocket; purely white versus the red carnation he had. Shoulder caps with golden tassels swished whenever he walked, and his shoes were freshly polished. They would only be used once for this Galla. Stunning couldn't describe how he looked. Lovino was still reeling in the stunning revelation, as his heart pounded and his hands shook.
"Woah," he mustered out.
"Do you like what you see? Well Your Highness," he presented his elbow to link with the southern Italian princes, "It's time for you to shine."
They walked down the main corridor, to be greeted with a line of people being announced in on top of a long stairway that lead to dancing nobles and soothing music of an orchestra.
"Matthias Køhler, King of Denmark!" They were only 4 people behind him.
3... "Ludwig Beilschmidt and Gilbert Beilchmidt, crowned heirs and princes of the Germanic empire!"
2.. "Berwald Oxenstirena, King of Sweden!"
1... "Wang Yao, Emperor of China and the Eastern Seas!"
He was shaking, and held tight to Antonio. Anxiety gripped him tightly, and wouldn't let go. Butterflies flew around in his stomach, making him nauseous and very woozy. The announcer got their names and proclaimed them loudly to spectators below, "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, prince of Spain; accompanied by Lovino Romano Vargas, the Roman heir and prince of Southern Italy!" Stepping down slowly, there were shocked gasps drawn from the crowds. Was he doing something wrong? Hushed whispers were heard and Antonio leaned to whisper in his ear, "It's okay. They're excited to meet you. You'll be the talk of the whole continent at the end of the night."
"Joy," he muttered as he glanced around and surveyed the scenery. The Queen and King were sitting on their thrones and talking to other men and women of high stature who stood beside them. Whilst doing that, Antonio finally acted his age and got over himself by pointing out women and mocking their fashion sense or something else outrageous about them. Fake beauty marks placed in wrong places, makeup mishaps, and bad wig failures Felix would faint if he saw. Even in the age of beauty, some people couldn't figure out what not to wear.
During the night, he drank a lot of white wine and got separated from his escort, while he talked with high-class aristocrats, getting so many questions about his princely standing and the story behind it. They also asked about his brother, but he didn't answer because he honestly didn't know. Lovino told them the story of how he found out he was royalty; but only what the king told him.
Antonio on the other hand, was a wallflower this evening. He wanted Lovino to have all of the attention on him; as this was the whole reason for the event. For years when they were little they were extremely close, but they had never been really open to talking about serious things. Out of all the things he thought Lovino was, he never expected a prince. All the other things were obvious things; his beauty, his ever-constant but alluringly crabby attitude, his eyes, the way the abnormal curl on his head curled into a heart when he flirted with him... Everything was perfect, and he had fallen in love.
An atmosphere change happened, as the music played slower and Antonio rose an eyebrow. "A waltz? Hm, interesting. Would you like to dance?" He grasped Lovino's hand and lightly kissed the top, earning a blush in return.
"Idiota. Of course I will." This wasn't the first time he had danced, but it made it more special when he did with him. I mean, Lovino couldn't deny he liked him too, but he was reluctant to show it. Every shove, every swear word, every head-butt and rude gesture was his way of saying "I love you" or "I care about you," even to the point of, "I want to be with you."
Guiding him to a more secluded place, the balcony wasn't crowded and there was a good view of the Spanish stars. Swaying softly to the sound of music and not keeping up with the beat, they held each other close. It felt... normal. Antonio and Lovino both felt like they were supposed to be there.
"Lovi, I don't know if you're still mad at me. I don't want you to be, but if you are I suppose I can't help that. I want to make it up to you, in any way I can. I mean it when I say I truly love you. I'd marry you in a heartbeat. Of course I'd have to be king but..."
"Then become king. When your father dies, you'll be free to do what you want as King. When that day comes, then I might marry you. I'll consider," he winked as he pulled away from his chest, but remained in his arms. Then and there, it was only them.
"I'll take your consideration, into consideration, then when the day comes," he teased as he leaned down and kissed him. He didn't flinch this time, and he didn't cower down. He accepted it graciously, and moved his arms to wrap around his neck to pull him down closer. How reluctant he was to admit he missed this was quizzical, but despite it the mutual feelings of longing were shown through a simple kiss.
They couldn't believe that was about four minutes. It felt like hours since they had confessed to each other. When the music halted, Antonio rushed inside. There was something Lovino didn't know was coming. Neither did he for that matter. The King had told his son there was a surprise for him after the waltz, but he didn't specify what kind.
"Come on," he urged as he tugged him through the crowd. People bowed as they walked past on their way to the thrones. A smile graced the Queen and King's faces, and he gave them all a 'what the actual fuck is going on here' look.
"As you all know, this boy here was brought to our home many years ago. His grandfather, the heir of all Roman fortune, gave it all up for him and his brother. As his dying wish, he sent the two boys here until they were old enough to accept the responsibility of running a kingdom. His younger brother, Feliciano, will run the North parts of Italy, while he runs the South. But today is where we bear some unfortunate news; in the discovery of the new prince, a war has been threatened by England. Afonso has delivered the news to me through many brave men from the West Indies to here. Antonio and I will be joining my son and our soldiers. While we are gone, my wife and my brother will be put in charge. We leave in one week. Now please, continue with your festivities!"
He was shocked. He glanced at the king and then Antonio. He didn't even know what was going on. The news of war was new to him as well, but he knew better than to question what he said. Or ask any questions in general. Everyone returned to their gossip, like nothing in the world was going on. This would affect them all, but all hey cared about was their drinks.
He ran.
Like always, Lovino ran from his problems. Gasps from some onlookers startled the people standing next to them, as they all watched him run. The people he ran into didn't matter. It didn't matter anyways. Antonio could get killed out in the battlefield, and he wouldn't know for weeks, even years. Being held hostage was an option too.
"Lovino, wait!" Sprinting down the long corridors, Lovino stopped in front of the observatory door. Inside was where the astronomers met, with two wide windows that opened up to observe stars and constellations on clear nights. The sound of Antonio running down the nearby hallways frightened him, so in a hurry he ran into the room and climbed the steps to the highest point. He was halfway through getting the window hatches open until the aforementioned soon-to-be soldier burst in, panting with his hands on his knees.
"Lovino, I had no clue! I don't want to go to war! This wasn't supposed to happen... Please you have to believe me!" The tone of his voice was fearful, like he was scared of something. War, death, kidnapping... Everything torturous in the world was possible.
"Toni, I don't want to see you die in some stupid fucking war! For fucks sake you aren't dying on me like Nonno or Marcello! I need you to be with me here. This whole prince bullshit is new to me and I can't do this without you!!" Their voices rose steadily in volume, as the fight wore on between a man torn between his duties as a prince and his duties as a lover. They were both equally important. Tears continued to fall down his dollish cheeks, and the Spaniard itched to dry them. He was the cause after all, and that just brought him more pain.
"These are my people getting killed out there! If I need to fulfill my duties as the heir of Spain I will! You're important to me but my country comes first!" That was the last shout he was able to say before the Italian crashed into him and connected their lips. They both fell onto the floor, not letting go of each other. They didn't let up on their kissing as they got off the floor. Pushing the younger up against a bookshelf, they managed to get to a long lounger in an untimely manner. He was lucky the books he collided into didn't fall. A hand roamed up the Spaniards shirt, as he disconnected their lips. There was a small trail of saliva which slightly grossed Lovino out, but he was relieved when Antonio broke it.
"See," he sat upright on the couch and led Lovino's hand up his shirt to rest on his heart, "this right here only beats for you. Also, this beating heart is going to come back like it is. Alive and well. Don't worry about me."
His walls collapsed as gentle fingers ran over his cheeks to dry more of his tears, "Okay. I trust you."
"Good," he nodded, "now let's get back down there and we'll continue this after the Galla." With a wink, he led him by the hand back to the dance, which was lively as ever despite the unfortunate news.
Trust and faith was what he needed to rely on. Along with prayers and hope, he was consoled by hugs and touches from Antonio. That would be enough.