Masked Emotions // Dream6d

Chapter 17

Warning: Mention of death, sexual innuendos

The castle was exactly the same as when Vincent left. He stepped out of the carriage, followed by Clay, and looked around. He didn't know what he expected. The tyrant king was dead, so maybe he expected an evil aura to be lifted off the kingdom? But that wasn't realistic, of course.

The old queen and Darryl told the other two they were going on ahead, and Clay explained that they probably needed to discuss the prince's sudden crowning ceremony with the castle staff. Some guards ushered the two commoners into a fancy dressing room, telling them to wait there until servants arrived to dress them.

Vincent felt a little uncomfortable with that and Clay could tell. " You can just dress yourself, they left the clothes hanging right over there," he suggested, pointing at the fabric sitting nearby. " You probably have the same training as any of these other servants."

Clay was right, Vincent did have basic training on how to properly dress a royal, in case the need arose. He just never thought he would use that skill on himself. The two dressed quietly, each facing away from the other for privacy, though it took a lot of convincing to get Clay to comply.

When they turned to face each other once more, Vincent deadpanned. " You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

" How could you tell?" The blonde rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. The servant thought he looked quite cute when he was clueless.

" First of all," Vincent instructed, stepping closer and untying the scarf Clay had fixed around his waist. A little blush rose on the taller man's face. " This isn't a belt, this goes around your neck like so."

Vincent fixed the fabric with quick, skillful hands and a precision Clay couldn't help but admire. The blonde smirked. " Y'know, I might need your help taking off these clothes as well!"

" You haven't even taken me to dinner before, calm down," the brunette snapped back, but Dream could see his ears getting red and betraying his stone-cold demeanor.

     " Candle lit dinner date," Clay whispered under his breath. " Remind me to plan that."

A knock came at the door and it clicked open. Two shy servant girls stepped in. Judging by the expression on Vincent's face, he'd seen them before. They noticed the two were already dressed, and quickly apologized for taking so long to arrive. The brunette waved, telling them it wasn't at all their fault.

     As Vincent moved his hand, he saw one of the girls flinch, and he grimaced. He knew how the life of an attendant was. Those servants had it worse than anyone, constantly having to take care of power-crazy royals. This girl, obviously, did not have it much better. He sighed, hoping that conditions would improve under Darryl's rule.

     Soon, the two were called to the throne room. On their way there, Clay gently intertwined their fingers. Vincent let out a shaky breath, dreading the room they were heading to. He'd relived it in his nightmares too many times. Blood splattered against the walls, horrified expressions frozen forever on the faces of the dead.

     Clay gave a small squeeze and a reassuring smile. The servant calmed down slightly and they stepped through the doorway together. The two seemed a little uncomfortable, with good reason, but seeing Darryl in royal clothing was enough to distract anyone. A little gold crown sat in his hair, and his green eyes flashed with annoyance as he fiddled with the collar of his shirt. He'd been so used to his normal peasant clothes, Vincent suspected, that it bothered him now.

Zak snickered every time the young prince fidgeted with some piece of clothing, while the old queen was talking to some other royals in the corner of the room. When the former chef and his apprentice saw them enter, they gladly abandoned their conversation to join the two. Zak started quickly, " Isn't it weird to be back in this room after all that crazy stuff?"

" Imagine how I feel," Darryl agreed. " Last few times I was in here, my life was on the line!"

" And now you're going to spend most of your days in here," the old queen chimed in, appearing from nowhere. " You do remember why we're here, do you not? Aren't you supposed to be socializing with the elite and reforming our alliances?"

Darryl groaned, letting his mother drag him into another political talk with some other pair of old men. Zak smiled, his eyes twinkling as he watched the prince leave. He turned his attention back to the taller pair and shrugged. " He's still getting used to this."

" Obviously," Vincent laughed. " It's weird to see the head chef being told what to do."

" I didn't know Darryl still took that stuff from his old lady," Clay tutted. " And to think he's a grown man."

" Oh! That reminds me!" Zak snapped his fingers. " Darryl called you guys here to let you know the situation with his coronation and stuff."

" That's not happening right now?" Vincent frowned, glancing at his fancy clothes. " Did I get dressed up for nothing?"

" God, of course it's not happening now, you idiot!" The smaller man teased. " That stuff takes weeks to plan! No, they're going to try and settle back into it slowly. Y'know, fix the kingdom's problems before worrying about the ruling monarch and whatnot."

Zak's eyes wandered as he spoke, making Clay believe him to be holding out on a few details. " And time for you too, I suppose."

The dark-haired man jumped, as if he'd been discovered. He let out a little sigh and blushed. " Yeah, I guess I still need time to adjust as well. Seeing the King is gonna be kinda hard if we're not at least engaged."

Vincent's eyes widened. " You're engaged?!"

Zak shook his head rapidly. " What?! No! Were you even listening?!" He turned a little red. " We're going to go steady for a few months to see if we're compatible enough to get engaged... and I want to know if we are before he becomes King."

" You'll have to take rigorous classes," Clay said, seemingly with no context, but Zak seemed to know exactly what he meant.

" It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. I don't want to screw up, y'know? The last thing I want in the history books is to be known as Darryl's failure of a husband," he sighed sadly. " So, I'll do whatever it takes."

" You're good for him, Zak," the brunette chipped in, offering him a little smile which he returned instantly.

" Thanks, bud. I gotta go help him talk to the duchess, he seems to be getting a little flustered," Zak excused himself. The blonde turned to face Vincent, as they were now left by themselves.

" Want to plan our future like they're planning theirs?~" Clay grinned, leaning closer to the servant, who pushed him away.

" Oh, shut up," Vincent grumbled. " I'm going to kill you."

" Make it quick and unexpected, just like when I fell for you," the hitman whispered. The two bickered back and forth for a considerable amount of time, both turning redder as the conversation escalated.

Darryl smiled, looking out across the sea of faces that he grew up with. The crown resting on top of his head marked the dawn of a new age, which his mother advertised bluntly to all who would listen. His eyes drifted to his lover, who was chatting up a storm with some younger royals, his grin lighting up the entire room. Finally, he looked over at the odd pair lingering by the door.

A hitman and a servant. A killer and a worker. A jar of secrets and an open book. Both hopelessly in love.

An odd pair indeed.