A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

18. A Confrontation in the Gardens

Oliver's eyes were still covered by the warm hand, and he bit his lower lip tentatively. This man was a stranger, and he could sense how powerful he was.  Yet Oliver felt at ease in his presence.  Or perhaps, it was the lull of the stranger's anonymity.

Oliver felt many old emotions stir inside him, and his throat tightened for a moment.

"I shouldn't tell you a thing." He whispered.

A tantalizing laugh came from behind the mask, and Oliver felt a shiver creep up his spine.

"My purpose here does not involve harming your royal family or kingdom." The man said softly.

Oliver smiled a little. "That's the least of my concerns right now."

"Such unpatriotic words are coming from previous Royal Consort.  Jaded?" The man teased.

Oliver's smile twisted to a laugh. "Perhaps I am."  He tapered the laugh off with a sigh. "Before I spill my woes, let me ask a question... If a war broke out, who do you think would be the first person ordered to fight on the frontlines?"

The man paused, and Oliver reached up and gently pulled his hand down from his eyes.  However, he kept holding the larger hand on his lap, reluctant to let go.

"Why would there be a war?" The man asked, suddenly on edge.

Oliver looked away from the kneeling figure. His silver hair draped across his shoulder, cascading down like water, catching the stranger's eye.  The masked man carefully took the silver hair in his hand, his fingers lightly running through the strands.

Oliver didn't answer directly but continued to speak softly, avoiding looking at the man in front of him. "My uncle and I would be the first to be sent, alongside the men my uncle had trained for many years. Aristocratic sons, who have trained to be soldiers, should volunteer for the war but will fall silent.  Instead, Piers will push farmers and peasants to fight by my side."

Oliver turned back with a complicated look. "They will be weak and frightened, but we can train them. Eventually, they will grow into warriors I trust to protect my back.  However, to get to that point, many will have to die."

"Some would call that a noble sacrifice." The man said. But despite his words, there was heavy anger laced in his voice.  The man disagreed with sending untrained men into battle.

"The foolish would call it a 'noble sacrifice.' In truth, this is simply a pretty name for a pointless death." Oliver remembered Gallio's words. 

The man was silent for a while, absentmindedly playing with Oliver's hair. "Would you go to war for Piers if he called for it?"

Oliver closed his eyes, trying to hide his palpable shame. "There was a time, yes. If he asked me to, I would have gone to war and faced the three kingdoms."

The masked man kept one hand within Oliver's grasp while the other moved from Oliver's fallen hair to his cheek, lightly caressing it.  His fingers ran across his skin, brushing his ear until he reached the back of Oliver's head. His fingers became tangled in the silver hair. The simple move was possessive and nearly soul-consuming.

"Why? Why do that for him?" He asked, his voice even lower than before.

Oliver's breath stagnated, wanting to give in to this man. His words tumbled from his lips.

"I was young and poisoned by lullabies narrating tales that ended with 'happily ever after'. I convinced myself that we were supposed to be happy together. So when his eyes that used to reflect care changed to disdain, I sacrificed everything in hopes of winning back his previous adoration."