Breaking out

II. Chapter 11

"Yeran?!" Aki's eyes widened to disks.

"What the hell?!"

...

"Are you surprised?" Yeran winked.

"OH gods it is you, wow!" Aki stepped closer, still slightly cautious, but mostly curious.

He poked Yeran's cheek, almost like a wondering cat.

"When Zeke said his disguising skills are good, I did not expected them to be of this caliber," he said.

"We're full of surprises darling Aki, you should know that by now,"

"Where's Ruth Yeran, have you managed to get Nuwee out?" Aki asked hurriedly, unrecognizable husband forgotten after initial surprise.

"Nuwee yes, Ruth, no, Zeke is working on that. Come, here, put these on," Yeran pulled out the bundle on his back, revealing them to be servant's uniform.

"I would have preferred it to be a soldier's, but armour was hard to be snuck in."

"It is probably for the best, unlike Aved, people here tend to consider servants just part of a wall decoration, they would much rather think their chores get done by some divine power rather than acknowledging the grunts." Aki said, starting to strip.

Yeran almost looked away, but was caught hypnotized by the exposed skin of pure porcelain.

Aki stripped off the layers of his robes, including the silk undershirt, for the risk of peeking through the collars of thin servant's garb. Rather be safe than sorry.

He put on the coarse undershirt and the underrobe, fixing the thin cotton over robe together with the cotton sash.

Though inexpensive, the garb was neat and clean, pleasant to look at but never giving a chance to forget their place.

"Let's go," he took the lead, bundling his previous robes together as if laundry of some or other visiting noble.

"Aki," Yeran croaked.

"Hmm?" Aki turned slightly in response, only to have his collar grabbed and be forcefully dragged down into a fierce kiss.

"Just in case we died tonight," Yeran explained, releasing him.

Aki pressed his lips together. Raising a brow.

"I have so many plans for you, Prince Yeran, let's survive the night first," he said, lashes lowering into the same look he gave just before leaving the throne room, only a few hours before.

Yeran shivered.

"OH I certainly do hope so, dearest husband," he winked.

...

"Ruth?" Zeke's eyes fell on the figure leaning against the far side of the dark cell. Barely visible in the dark.

"Zeke?" His voice was dry, painful even to the ear.

Zeke crossed the room in two steps.

"You, you are hurt," he whispered.

"OH heaven's! Ruth, are you okay?" He asked, putting a hand around Ruth, as his grip on the wall started to slip.

"I hope so," He answered.

"I hope you were not trying to be reassuring," Zeke said, helping him sit down, as gentle as he can.

"Because it's not working,"

He proceeded to take off the bulky armour. He will have to improvise now, original plan scrapped over.