Malachite | L. S [Completed]

2: Beloved Precious

The hall clamoured with the chaos of the morrow, his father's laughter roaring. Louis walked with his nose high, like a prince should as he was taught, nodding when the servants greeted him, and making his presence known with a clear of his throat. As ever, silence fell with every gaze on him, but his found the prettiest of green, looking at him with mischief twinkling in them.

"Good morrow, Father, Duke Styles. Everyone." He wished, walking to place himself next to Harry. The table resumed its chatter as Louis brushed his palm against Harry's thigh, the accusation in Leah's eyes not going unnoticed by his eyes.

"You are awfully late, Louis William, no future king mocks their time." His father scowled, his old eyes holding a sour gaze with him when Louis turned towards him.

"Good thing I am not king yet, am I, father?" Louis spat, gesturing for a glass of juice. He felt Harry's hand on his knee, a soothing rub that pulled out a sigh from Louis. It was too damn early for a quarrel, he pondered. "Good morrow to you," he twisted his neck away from the king and towards Harry, offering him a suggestive smile. The omega's cheeks bloomed, wishing him back in a whisper. He was truly an artist, playing the role of an easily flustered, unwed omega in the bright of the day.

"Good morrow, your royal highness," came from beside Louis, her voice shrill and conceited. Louis bit back a groan of displeasure, nodding to acknowledge Duke Styles' eldest daughter, Elizabeth, a crooked-nosed omega that seemed to have no relation with Harry at all save their surnames. Louis was not one to shame someone for their lack of beauty, but the omega was a snob in Louis' judgement, a desperate, little thing who wished to charm Louis. Tragic he was already lured by her youngest brother.

"Will you be joining us for the hunt, son?" Small talk. Louis despised it. Yet he smiled, like a prince should, like a future king should, turning his head towards Samuel, Harry's father. He gently shook his head, biting into his toast. "Pray tell, son, why won't you?"

"I wish I could, your grace, but I have a prior engagement. A prince must keep his word, should he not, dearest father?"

"And what must that engagement be?" His father inquired, a brow crooking, as if to mock Louis. Louis swallowed his bite, breathing in and then out, hiding his distaste for the king. Harry's finger's found his, soft as a petal, twining with Louis' under the veil of the table. In the hue of passion, Louis had confessed to his dislikes towards his family while the omega held him like a child, his hands caressing every inch of Louis.

Louis finally lifted his gaze, clearing his throat. "I believe I had promised Harry I would show him mother's new gardens up north, father. I mustn't trade my promise for an afternoon of hunting."

"Very well then," his father mumbled, unable to hide the discontent on his aged face. "And who shall be chaperoning young Styles?"

Both of them remained silent. The question had never arose before, neither of their mothers ever suspecting anything between the two of them. Louis' eyes flickered to Leah, the older alpha turning her gaze away as she sipped her wine. "We have not had a chaperone with us before, father. Harry and I, we have been going there each summer."

"Well, it might not irk you, Louis, but being left alone with an unbonded alpha will only taint an unwedded, young omega's image among the people. Do you wish upon him shame?"

"But, father, we have always --"

"Harry has reached an age for marriage--"

"I do not see how that is relevant. Him and I have always remained unchaperoned--"

"Quiet, boy!" His father roared, fist landing on the table as everything tremored. Silence fell upon the many faces, every eye on the king while Louis balled his fists, holding Harry's hand tighter. "You shall take Elizabeth as Harry's chaperone or you shall not go altogether. And for you, Harry, you should have known better than to agree on going alone with an alpha."