I beat Philip in our race to the water, which I must admit was a wholly unfair race to begin with. Mostly because I just took off running and left him behind.
Steady heartbeat, feet pounding the earth. I had forgotten what it was to run wild without fear of danger in pursuit. If I cut through the air fast enough, I could feel the slightest hints of breeze reach out and tickle me, before the sun covered me once more in a blanket of heat.
At the bottom of the hill, I slowed and watched Philip clumsily make his way after me. He let out a yelp as his heel twisted in the grass and he tumbled down the rest of the way.
"Dash it," he panted when I reached him. The white silk of his stockings was streaked in dirt and he had lost a shoe. I helped him to his feet.
A thick, sturdy tree grew crookedly at the edge of the lake, its long branches extending sharply over the water. Years ago, my brother Ronan had tied a knotted rope to one of the highest branches, and all of us, even Artwin with his lame foot, had taken countless turns swinging ourselves into the water from various heights.
So many hot summers had been spent racing here after chores were finished, fighting to be the first one in, wrestling in the water for hours.
Those were some of the memories of Ronan I held on to. When I missed what used to be, I thought of him teaching me to milk the cow and carving small toys for me from the scrap wood of his projects.
The war changed him.
By the time I was nine, he had become a soldier. He returned from the battlefield a changed man. Started drinking and never stopped. And slowly, agonizingly, I lost the one brother I felt close to.
At the foot of the great tree, I unlaced my boots and kicked them aside. "Come on, let's climb," I said.
"I should think I'd fall." Philip angled his gaze upward and squinted, blocking the sun with his hand.
I grinned. "Haven't you ever climbed a tree?"
He shook his head, red curls slipping across his forehead. "I would just as soon sit beneath one with a book."
"What good are books?" I wrapped an arm around his back and guided him towards the tree. "I do just fine without them."
He dragged his feet to stall me. "Books teach you things. History and astronomy and-"
"Astronomy?" I sounded the word out.
"By studying astronomy, one can explore beyond the realm of our own world. The stars and sun and the moon. Without astronomers, we would never learn whether the sun spins round the earth or the earth spins round the sun."
I narrowed my eyes. "The sun spins round the earth. Don't you see it moving through the sky every day?" He looked up, his expression suddenly quizzical. "See, this is why you ought to get your nose out of a book and open your eyes. The answer's right in front of you." He no longer protested as I led him to the tree. "Come on, you're going up first. Climbing trees is a crucial part of boyhood."
"I think my boyhood is almost over," he murmured. "I'm getting married next month."
I paused before letting the words slip off my tongue. "All the more reason to enjoy it then." He gave me a little smile and I felt my chest tighten.
Don't get attached to something you cannot keep.
"First things first," I said. "You can't climb in those little shoes. Take them off."
He gave a heavy sigh and glowered at me, but stepped out of his shoes and left them in the grass.
"Stockings too. You need a good grip."
"Auden," he said.
I leaned against the tree. "What?"
"Is it imperative that you"- he tugged his stockings down - "order me about as if I am some..."
"Some what?"
"Some-"
"Someone like me?"
He let out another loud sigh and flounced over to me. "I did not say that."
I wrapped both arms around his waist and pulled him up against me, letting our noses brush. "No, it's not imperative," I said softly. "But it is fun."
Barefoot as we were, I stood about an inch and a half taller than him, which I noticed more than ever when he looked up into my eyes.
"You might as well take all your clothes off," I whispered. "You're going to get wet."
He peered over his shoulder in the direction of my house. "What if someone happens upon us?"
"Come on. A hundred servants must have seen you naked."
"Perhaps, but public nudity is so unseemly. Oh, Auden, you ought to keep your shirt on." He threw a glance in the direction of my house, though it was hidden behind the hill. "Someone could get the wrong idea."
I had already unbuttoned it. "Who, my mother?" I laughed, shrugging the thin linen from my shoulders. "Don't worry, she won't come down here. We're alone."
He gave a small smile and began unbuttoning his vest and breeches while I tucked my ring safely between my clothes. He left his undershirt to cover him, which fell to his upper thighs.
I chuckled to myself.
"What?" he said.
"You're glowing."
His bare legs were like two beacons of light in the harsh sunlight.
"They could use you to keep ships away from the cove."
"You're so cruel."
Together we climbed the tree, me just behind him, telling him which branches to reach for, giving him a little push when needed. He was clumsy where I was agile, novice where I was practiced. I kept repeating, Don't worry, I've got you, I'll catch you, all the while knowing that if he fell we would both go down.
We stopped at a sturdy branch over the water and sat with our feet dangling in the air. I reached for the rope.
"This seems very dangerous," he murmured.
"Rubbish," I said. "I've done it thousands of times. Perfectly safe."
He reached over my shoulder to give the rope a hard tug. "What if the rope snaps?"
I tossed a frown to the ground below us. "Might break a leg. Or two."
"Auden!"
"We'll be fine. I promise," I laughed. "Just trust me."
When I looked over he was smiling, and I felt something in my chest flutter. He kept looking at me, his gaze soft, trusting, patient. I forced my eyes away.
What if I couldn't always protect him?
"I'll go first," I murmured, my voice suddenly rough.
I stood, keeping one hand on the tree to balance me, and gripped the rope firmly.
"Now, you need a good hold on this thing," I said. "When you jump, let yourself swing all the way out before letting go. You want to drop in at the deepest part." I leaned back to give myself some momentum, then leapt off the branch, both hands holding a knot in the rope. I was flying, flying, and then- I let go.
I cut through the water like a knife. Bubbles rose from my breath, spiraling above me to the surface. Here, enveloped in the water, I was alive.
I was free.
I relished the silence. The weightlessness. The peace.
I let myself float until I broke through the surface and once again felt the warm sun on my face. Fresh air in my heaving chest, I turned towards the bank to watch Philip swing out from the tree.
He let out a whoop and hit the water hard. The spray wet my face and I licked my lips, tossing my head to clear the dripping hair from my eyes.
"I did it!" he yelled. He raised two fists in the air as I paddled over to him. "I did it!"
I was grinning so wide my cheeks hurt. "I knew you could."
His fingers latched behind my neck and held onto me as we bobbed up and down in the water. "Now what do I do?"
I gripped him tight with both arms, my lips against his cheek, my body holding him upright. I noted the way his bare thighs hugged my waist and thanked God for the freezing water.
"How come you never learned to swim?" I asked. We were so close, our slick bodies pressed together, heartbeats overlapping. The water washed over us in a hundred tiny ripples, clear and cool.
"Swimming is for pirates," Philip said. "And witches."
I pressed my chest to his, separated only by the thin material of his shirt. It hugged his body, revealing every little dip and curve.
"Well, I'm not a witch," I murmured. "I must be a pirate."
Swimming had always come easy to me. I could tear across the lake faster than any of my brothers and hold my breath for by far the longest.
"Have you come to steal my treasures, pirate?" he teased. He twisted in the water like a fish. "I'll never give them up."
"I'll just have to hold you captive until you do."
He leaned closer, his thighs squeezing me tighter. Even the cold water couldn't save me this time. My heart thumped in my chest. "You might have to hold me forever."
Forever. Forever out here, alone with nothing but the water and the sky and the trees in the distance. Forever with my King.
He looked at me, amber eyes curtained beneath his wet curls. His eyelashes were dark with water and his eyes sparkled in the light. Cautiously, he took my hands and allowed me to guide him through the water.
"What if sea monsters eat us?" he asked.
"There are no sea monsters."
"There are," he insisted. "I've seen drawings of them."
I chuckled and let go, kicking to create a small distance between us. "Watch," I instructed. "Move your arms like this." I brought my hands close to my chest and slowly pushed them forward.
He tried, but quickly slipped under and started splashing frantically. "I'm going to drown!"
"You're not going to drown," I said. "Alright, let's try it like this." I wiped away the short hairs plastered to my forehead and held his waist with both hands. "You swim, I'll hold you up."
He floundered about in a clumsy paddle at first, his neck craned up at a sharp angle. After a while he could move more fluidly, his arms rotating through the water without any wild splashing.
"Good," I said. "There you go."
"Am I swimming?"
I couldn't hide the teasing smile on my face. "Well, it's better than how you started."
He twisted around to splash me. The cold spray stung my eyes as he slapped the water.
"Oi! If I drown, you drown."
Philip laughed, facing me now. "You've got me, haven't you?"
"I've got you."
My laughter cut off as he pushed forward and kissed me, lips hard against mine. He pulled back just as suddenly, staring up at me with smiling eyes, waiting for my reaction. We were both breathing hard from splashing around, but now my heartbeat slowed to a thud. Soft lips, eyes of warm honey. Shining in the sun.
"C'mere." I cupped my hands under his thighs and wrapped them around mine, lifting him up. He was so light in the water I could carry him. His lips found mine again, grinning, stopping between every kiss to giggle.
We kissed over and over, short little kisses that made me feel light inside, like I was soaring high above the clouds.
"We have to go back soon," I whispered. Only our faces were above the surface now. Water dripped from my hair down the sides of my face. "They'll tear this country to shreds looking for you."
"Can't we just run away?" His breath poured out against my lips. "Be shepherds in the hills and never be bothered by anyone again."
My heart grew heavy. I could indulge in a moment of fantasy but I knew when I opened my eyes the hard truth would be staring back at me. "We can't," I said. "It's like Beauregard said. You have to be King. You have to rule."
"I don't want to be King." He cupped my face and kissed me. "I want to stay here with you."
"Stop," I whispered, though my heart was pounding because that was all I wanted too.
"I don't want to go back because..." His eyes turned toward the sky, as if to share a private word with God. "Because then we'll be apart and I'll be married and I'll never see you." He broke off and pressed his forehead to mine. "I can't bear not to see you, Auden."
I kissed him slowly and said, "We'll stay a little longer."
🦢•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ 🦢. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ 🦢
We walked along the edge of the water, tall stalks of grass tickling our bare legs, letting the sun dry us. I'd put my trousers back on, rolling them up to the knee, and left my torso bare. I liked the feeling of the sun on my back.
Near the shore of the lake, a pair of mallard ducks swam and bobbed their heads beneath the water, backsides up and orange feet waggling. Philip's eyes brightened. "Look!" he cried. "Ducks!"
I paused. Judged my distance from them. "Make a mighty fine supper," I murmured.
"No!" He grabbed at my arm. "Don't even think of it. They're positively adorable."
My stomach growled regretfully. The two ducks bobbed back up and swam further away, weaving across one another's path.
"I imagine they're in love," Philip sighed. He stared after them with a fanciful smile.
"They're both females," I said. "Their heads are brown."
His eyes turned to mine, amber speckled with honey. They stayed there, even when mine fell to the grass.
We walked on.
Every few steps, his little finger would brush mine, and I would inch my hand toward his, just in case he decided to hold it. He didn't, but it was alright. I cherished our tiniest touches as much as our greatest ones.
"It's so beautiful here," he said.
"We could take the scenic route back. See more of the countryside."
He smiled. "I'd like that."
Here was the King that no one else knew, I thought. The boy, locked away in the shadow of his father, who just wanted to see the world. The boy who pretended to faint to get out of social functions but spent forty minutes deciding what dessert his friend might like. The boy whose cheeks turned rosy as his hair when I looked at him.
"Philip-" I said, my chest tightening.
He turned to look at me. "Yes?"
My tongue suddenly felt very heavy. I kept silent, too entranced to speak.
He waited.
"I... I just wanted to say I had a nice time today. With you."
"Oh." His lips bloomed in a sweet smile. "I did too." Before I could walk any further he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. "Thank you for taking me here. And showing me your lake."
I was still getting used to embracing people besides my mother, but I drew my hands up and rubbed his back.
"And the tavern and the orphanage." He looked up at me. "I want to send the children lots of presents. Clothes and toys and money."
"That's good," I said. "You can do more than just the orphanage."
He nodded intently. "Of course. What do you suggest?"
I opened my mouth but faltered. "The... the workhouses, to start. And the infirmaries. You could grant apprenticeships for men like my brother to study medicine." I looked down at the grass. "This country is broken. You can dress its wounds but it cannot heal overnight."
Philip went silent for a long moment.
I stared at him. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying."
"I should try harder," he murmured.
I felt something cling up in my chest, and suddenly my airways seemed a little tighter. "So should I."
"You're a good man, Auden." He squeezed my forearms, like he was trying to convince me. Perhaps he was trying to convince us both.
I knew there was something wrong with me, something I couldn't control. Good people didn't enjoy seeing others writhe in agony. Enjoy feeling blood on their hands and yearn to lick it away. "I've done bad things."
Unswayed, he stretched up on his toes and kissed my cheek. The small gesture left me with butterflies all throughout my body. "But you're a good man," he whispered.
I held him, there at the lake by my home, and decided that maybe, he was the one good thing about me.