Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith Claes had never liked court life that much. Too many courtesies, too many voices layered in honey but dripping with venom underneath. Still, as the son of Duke Claes, and acting in his father's stead more and more often these days, it was his responsibility to attend such meetings. He was good at it—his poise, his intellect, and his firm yet respectful tone made him a natural diplomat.

But today? He was just tired.

The long discussion about trade agreements with the northern provinces had drained him. His father, Duke Luigi Claes, seemed pleased to stay behind and keep talking with the advisors. But Keith? All he wanted was to finish this final task and go home.

He sighed as he walked toward Prince Jeord’s office. The last errand: a simple confirmation regarding boundary records tied to their dukedom. Quick, efficient, no fuss.

Jeord had always been— annoyingly enough —reliable. Keith didn’t like speaking to him alone. Their conversations always carried a strange tension, a wordless tug-of-war neither of them acknowledged. But deep down, he was someone Keith could count on. And... they were childhood friends, weren’t they? Sort of.

A familiar pang tugged at his chest.

He glanced at the castle windows as he walked, catching the light of the afternoon sun. He wondered vaguely what Katarina was doing today. It was her free day—no work at the Ministry, no duties, no lectures. She’d probably gone to her field again. Or maybe she was reading some new romance novel Sophia lent her. He smiled faintly to himself.

He wanted to be home. With her.
He missed her.

As he neared the prince’s office, Keith noticed something strange. The door wasn’t fully closed.

He paused.

There was no sound. No conversation. That was odd.

Maybe he was alone?

He shrugged. It wasn’t worth worrying about. If he could get this last piece of business over with, he could leave. He pushed the door open gently, his voice already forming:

—Hi Jeord, I just need a moment—

He stopped.
His breath caught in his throat.

There, under the soft golden light of the window, was Katarina. 

She lay over the cushions of the emerald green sofa. Her dress was loosened, the neckline slipping off one shoulder, revealing the delicate slope of her chest. Her hands were buried in Prince Jeord’s hair, who was bent over her in a tight embrace, gripping her waist.

Their lips had clearly just parted.
The passion in the air was palpable.

Katarina gasped.
Jeord’s eyes snapped toward the door, toward Keith.

Time collapsed into a single, burning instant.

—K-Keith— Katarina’s voice trembled, her face flushed with shock and embarrassment.

Jeord stood abruptly, his expression frozen between surprise, confusion and fury.

But Keith... he couldn’t move .

He stared at her.
The woman he loved.
The one he had devoted his life to protect.
The one who promised would be by his side forever .

He hadn’t known she was at the castle. He thought she was home. Waiting for him.

His mouth opened. No sound came out. His limbs had gone numb.

She had come here... not to spend her day off with her brother. But to meet him .

Keith stumbled backward. His hand found the doorknob. He flew out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

He walked fast. Then faster. He wasn’t even sure where his feet were going. He just knew he couldn’t stay.

The corridors blurred. His thoughts were a storm.
Her flushed face. Jeord on top of her. His hands caressing her.

He had no right to feel betrayed. But he did .

He found himself outside, somewhere in the quiet shade of the castle gardens. He collapsed onto a stone bench, bracing himself with trembling hands. His chest ached in a way that wasn’t physical.

—----------

The office was dead silent.

Katarina clutched the fabric of her dress against her chest, cheeks burning, heart hammering. Her breathing was shallow, almost panicked, as she turned toward Jeord—him with disbelief showing on his face.

—We—he—Keith saw us… —she stammered, voice cracking. —I—I didn’t even know he was here!

Jeord cursed under his breath and quickly moved. He adjusted the front of his shirt, fastened a button that had come undone, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. Then he turned to her.

—You need to fix your dress —he said calmly, kneeling to retrieve his fallen cape and passing it to her—. Here.

She nodded frantically and slipped it on, hiding the evidence of what had just happened. Her hands trembled as they tied the ribbon near her collarbone.

—I need to find him —she said breathlessly—. Jeord, I have to talk to Keith—he must be so confused, so upset, and I didn’t mean for this to happen like—

—Katarina.

Jeord’s voice was firmer now. He gently placed both hands on her shoulders.

—Stop. Breathe.

She froze. Her wide blue eyes stared into his.

—If you run after him like this —he said slowly—, with your hair a mess, your dress still wrinkled, in broad daylight, in the halls of the royal castle—do you understand what kind of scandal that could cause? For us. For him.

—But Jeord, I didn’t—

—I know —he said, a bit softer now—. I know you didn’t mean to hurt him. Neither did I. But we can’t allow emotions to push us into recklessness. That’s not the right way out of this mess.

Katarina blinked hard, her eyes misting.

—Then what do we do?

—I’ll go —he said—. I’ll speak to him. I’ll calm him down. I’ll make sure he’s alright.

She opened her mouth again, but he cut her off gently.

—You can’t leave this room. Please, Katarina. Stay. If you go after him, it’ll be worse. People will notice. I’ll ask a maid to bring you some tea. And something sweet.

—But—

—I love you —he said firmly, tilting her face up with a hand—. Let me handle this.

Katarina went quiet. Her cheeks turned scarlet. She swallowed, then nodded slowly.

—I… I love you too.

Jeord gave her the faintest smile—warm, reassuring. He leaned in and placed a small, chaste kiss on her lips.

—I’ll be back soon.

—----------

In the hallway, the prince moved with purpose, but not haste. He stopped the first maid he encountered and asked her politely:

—Would you kindly bring Lady Katarina Claes some warm tea and a plate of sweets? She’s in my office. Tell no one else.

The maid curtsied, blinking in surprise, and nodded before hurrying off.

He continued. He asked another servant, casually:

—Have you seen Lord Keith Claes?

—He passed through here just moments ago, Your Highness —the young footman replied—. Toward the gardens. He looked troubled.

—Thank you.

Jeord nodded and changed course, heading out into the castle’s rear wing, toward the shaded paths of the garden.

And there, he found him.

Keith sat on a stone bench beneath a canopy of flowering branches, the sunlight dappled across his light coat. His hands were still trembling. When he saw Jeord approaching, something snapped in his eyes.

—Of course it’s you —Keith muttered, standing up—. Why are you here? Why isn’t she?

Jeord stopped a few paces away.

—I told her to stay in my office.

Keith let out a dry, humorless laugh.

—Of course you did. Of course you get to decide who stays and what happens. I’m the damage control, is that it? You take her like that—and then run after the fool who walked in on you?

—I don’t—

—Leave —Keith snapped, stepping back and turning away—. Just walk away, Jeord. I don’t want to hear your excuses.

—That won’t do —Jeord said, voice still calm—. I’m here because you ran into something you weren't meant to see. And I intend to resolve this matter.

— You think you can fix this?

Silence.

The wind stirred the leaves.

—I didn’t even think she was at the castle today —Keith muttered—. She was supposed to be home. It was her day off. I wanted to go back early to see her.

Another bitter silence.

—I’ve been in love with her for so long… —Keith mumbled, sitting again on the bench while burying his face in his hands.

Jeord took a slow breath.

—I understand you're upset. If you hate me, that’s fine. But Katarina—she didn't mean to hurt you. Let's calm down, and talk this out as adults.

Keith, still unturned, didn’t answer.

—----------

Jeord stood there in silence.

Keith hadn’t looked at him since that first bitter exchange. His hands were clenched on his sides, like he was holding something inside that was seconds away from exploding.

He had expected anger.

But this silence—this wounded stillness—was harder to bear.

He shifted his weight, trying not to let his irritation show. Say something, damn it, he thought. Yell at me. Punch me. Anything but this.

He could almost feel the words bubbling inside his throat. But he swallowed them down.

The silence dragged on, and Jeord felt the tight coil of exasperation. And beneath the exasperation… something else stirred in him.

A feeling of victory, yes.

But also a strange, bitter sense of guilt.

He had won. The heart of the woman they both loved belonged to him. She had kissed him, had whispered I love you to him.

But somehow… it didn’t feel like triumph.

Because it came with the image of a hurt Keith, the boy who used to chase Katarina through wildflowers in the Claes estate gardens. Who used to laugh when Jeord tripped in the mud. Who once pulled Katarina out of a stream when she fell in trying to catch frogs, and scolded her like a parent, even while dripping wet himself.

The three of them had played together, back then.

Jeord let out a soft sigh through his nose.
He hated that he cared. He hated it even more that it mattered.

We weren’t always rivals , he thought bitterly. Were we?

Keith finally spoke, his voice hoarse, low.

—Why are you still here?

Jeord didn’t answer.

Keith turned his head, slowly, fury flashing in his gaze.

—Are you enjoying this? —he asked, biting the words out like poison—.
Is it fun, seeing me like this? Are you here to twist the knife? Well, congratulations.
She chose you. I get it. You won . Now leave me the hell alone.

Jeord exhaled, his patience cracking.

—I have no intention of doing that —he said, stepping forward and—without asking—sitting down beside him on the bench.

Keith stiffened, caught off guard.

—What—

—I’m not leaving —Jeord simply said.

Keith stared at him, confused, unsure of what this was.

Jeord’s posture was more relaxed now, but his expression—quietly pained—betrayed him.
He looked down at his hands, voice barely above a whisper.

—I’m sorry.

That one phrase struck the air like a stone breaking glass.

Keith blinked. He said nothing, but the storm in his eyes had shifted—still dark, still angry, but now conflicted.

Something in Jeord’s complexion touched a part of him he wasn’t ready to confront.

—Why are you saying that? —Keith muttered, almost to himself—. You don’t owe me anything.

Jeord glanced sideways at him.

—I think I do.

Keith didn’t respond.

They sat in silence. Two men with far too much history between them.

Chapter Text

Katarina sat alone on the sofa, Jeord’s cape drawn tightly over her shoulders. The tea on the small side table was warm, the cookies mostly untouched. She had fixed her hair the best she could, her fingers fumbling as she tried to tame the chaos of what had just happened. The dress… well, it was presentable now. At least on the surface.

But inside, she was a whirlwind.

She took a trembling sip of tea. Her lips still tingled from Jeord’s kiss, and her heart pounded in her chest—not from the rush of their passion, but from the cold guilt gnawing at her.

Keith saw us.

Her stomach twisted.

—…I hurt him… —she whispered to herself.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She had finally understood—just a few days ago, after so many confusing months—that what she felt for Jeord wasn’t just affection, or gratitude, or embarrassment.

It was love. Real love.

Jeord made her heart race. Made her feel like the ground beneath her feet could vanish at any moment. And even though he often teased her or flustered her, he always looked at her like she mattered—like she was someone worth waiting for.

But Keith…

Her hands curled in her lap.

She loved Keith too. Just not like that. He had been her constant. Her protector. Her best friend, ever since he was adopted into the Claes family. But even if her feelings had once wavered in confusion, she knew now that what she felt for Keith was the deep, warm love of a sister. Nothing more.

She had hoped to talk to him tonight. Alone. Once he was back from his work. It was all supposed to be so simple: confess her feelings to Jeord today—her first day off in weeks—and once her heart was honest, speak to Keith that evening. Gently. Kindly. Tell him the truth, even if it hurt.

But fate had pulled the rug out from under her.

A quiet knock on the door startled her. It opened just a crack—it was the maid, returning with a warm refill of tea and a delicate plate of lemon cookies. The girl curtsied quickly and left without a word, as instructed.

Katarina reached for a cookie, but her fingers hesitated over the porcelain.

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

Why did it have to happen like this? Why now, like that?

-------------

Earlier that afternoon, she had walked through the castle halls with her heart in her throat, holding tight to the ribbon of her dress sleeves as if they could anchor her to earth. She’d sent Jeord a note in the morning. Just four simple words: “ May I visit today?”

His reply had come not an hour later, delivered by trusted messenger: “ Always”.

She had taken extra care with her appearance. A soft pink dress—the one Jeord had once said matched the color of her blush. Her hair had been pinned with a new ribbon Mary had gifted her. She’d even worn a little perfume, though she wasn’t sure if she liked it.

She hadn’t known what to expect. But as soon as she stepped into his office and the door clicked behind her, her nerves hadn’t vanished—while his smile when meeting her was stunning.

—Katarina, you came —he said smiling, taking a step toward her—. To what do I owe the pleasure?

—Hi —Katarina hesitated, her fingers tightening around her sleeves. Her face flushed a deep pink and her eyes darted away.

—I… I wanted to see you —she said, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

Jeord tilted his head, his expression shifting into something tender—half worried, half hopeful. A moment passed in this awkward silence between them.

—I’ll call a maid. You must be hungry, yes? I’ll have something brought. —he said, as he swiftly went past her and reached for the door handle.

—I love you! —Katarina said suddenly, voice clear and unwavering.

Jeord froze, the door left barely opened.

Was this his imagination?

Turning around in disbelief, he stared at her.

— What ? —he said, his voice shaking despite himself—. One more time, please. I believe I might have misheard you.

Katarina’s face burned. But this time, she turned and met his eyes with trembling determination.

—I love you —she repeated—. I finally understand my feelings, Jeord. I love you.

His expression shattered into disbelief. His eyes widened, and then he flushed—scarlet.

He stared at her like she had spoken in a different language.

Katarina, seeing this reaction, panicked.

—I—I’m sorry it took me so long, I—

Not letting her finish, at the mere thought of her regretting her words, Jeord crossed the room in a single stride. He pulled her into his arms with a force that nearly knocked the breath from her, and held her so tightly she could feel the rapid beat of his heart through his chest.

— Katarina —he whispered, voice raw—. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.

He pulled back just enough to look at her face. The sight of her cute pink cheeks burning bright, her tearing eyes meeting his—so lovely.

—Please don’t say you’re sorry. You're here —he said, touching her cheek with reverent fingers—. And you love me. As much as I love you… right? —a tint of nervous joy breaking through, like he still couldn’t believe this moment was real.

—Yes —she nodded, breath hitching as she smiled—. I… —she whispered—. I do.

They smiled at each other, shyly, for a mere second.

And then—he kissed her.

It was gentle at first, hesitant. But when she didn’t pull away, when she leaned into him, the kiss deepened. His arms tightened around her, and her hands found their way to his shoulders, then his hair. Time slipped away. Logic vanished.

She didn’t even remember how they ended up on the sofa. Just that she wanted to stay there. With him.

Until the door opened.

-------------

Back in the present, Katarina covered her face with her hands.

—I should have waited —she whispered—. I should have told Keith first. I should have…

But it was too late.

And now, she could only wait.

-------------

The wind whispered between the flowering branches above them. Jeord remained seated beside Keith on the stone bench, the air heavy with unsaid words.

It was Keith who broke the silence, voice low, resigned.

—…Are you two getting married soon then?

The question hit harder than Jeord expected.

He turned slightly, catching the shadowed ache in Keith’s profile—the way he didn’t look at him when he asked it, as though bracing for impact.

Jeord answered honestly.

—That’s what I would prefer —he said, quietly—. But… we really haven’t had the chance to talk about it yet.

Keith turned his head now.

—You haven’t talked about it? —There was disbelief in his voice—. How could you be doing that kind of stuff with her and not talk about marriage?

Jeord blinked.

—What do you mean, that kind of stuff?

Keith turned red. His eyes flickered away in mortification.

—I thought… I assumed you two had been doing things like that for a while —he muttered—. The way I found you… it looked so… intimate . I thought it wasn’t the first time.

Jeord stared at him.

And then—he bit his lip.

A tremble ran through him, like laughter trapped behind tightly pressed lips. His shoulders shook faintly.

Keith narrowed his eyes.

—Jeord.

He looked at him sharply.

—Are you laughing?

Jeord tried, valiantly, to stifle the smirk tugging at his mouth.

—No. No. Just… —He wiped a hand across his face—. Just trying to hold it in.

—Jeord!

A sound escaped. Half laugh, half groan. Jeord turned away, shoulders shaking harder now, as he covered his mouth with a hand.

—Gods, Keith… I’m sorry, I’m not mocking you, I swear—

Keith stood.

—Then answer me properly!

Jeord looked up at him, eyes a little watery now from the suppressed laughter.

—Keith. Listen. We’ve been that intimate for… —he took a breath— …about ten minutes before you walked in on us.

Keith’s mouth dropped open.

The blood drained from his face.

—Ten— ten minutes?!

He staggered, as if assaulted by the image.

—Are you saying you just— just waited until the first time you were alone and then pounced on her?!

Jeord frowned, angry at such an accusation.

—Don't say it like that.

—She’s my sister!

—And she’s a grown woman —Jeord snapped, raising his voice—. I wasn’t alone in this.

That stopped Keith. His mouth opened—but no sound came.

There was something fragile in his expression now. Something that looked too close to heartbreak. The idea that it hadn’t been just Jeord. That Katarina had wanted to touch him like that. To kiss him like that.

Jeord’s throat tightened.

—…Sorry —he said, quietly.

Keith didn’t reply.

The silence felt heavier now. Tighter.

So Jeord filled it.

—She sent me a note this morning —he began, his tone cautious, deliberate—. Just asking if she could visit me today. Nothing unusual. I thought maybe she just wanted to spend her free day with me. But when she arrived… she looked nervous.

He glanced down at his hands.

—She confessed she loves me.

Keith’s hands clenched at his sides—but still, he said nothing.

Jeord pressed on.

—I couldn’t believe it at first. But when I asked her again, she repeated it. And I…—he paused—. 

The quiet deepened.

—I kissed her. She kissed me back. And… well, I don’t really remember how we ended up on the sofa.

He did , of course. Every touch, every breath. The way her hands slid into his hair. The way she trembled against him. He remembered it perfectly. He had, in fact, led her there. But this wasn’t the time for those details.

—Then you walked in.

Keith still didn’t look at him.

He just asked, hollowly:

—…What would’ve happened if I hadn’t?

Jeord stiffened.

—I don’t know —he lied first.

But Keith turned toward him now, eyes sharp.

—Jeord. Don’t dodge the question.

Jeord frowned, uneasy.

— Keith…

—Tell me.

Jeord held his gaze for a moment. Then sighed.

—…Do you actually want to know what would’ve happened?

Keith’s ears turned red. His hands flew up to his face in exasperation, dragging across his cheeks.

—Ugh! I hate you!

Jeord winced—then smiled faintly.

—Yeah —he muttered—, I probably deserve that.

Chapter Text

The silence stretched between them again—longer this time, but less hostile. Just uncertain.

—You should probably talk to her —Jeord said gently, interrupting the silence.

Keith shifted, his hands slowly lowering from his face.

—I don’t know if I can.

Jeord gave him a side glance.

—She’s worried. And feels guilty. But she deserves to hear from you directly.

Keith hesitated, looking away.

—You don’t have to pretend to be fine —he continued—. Just be honest. She’ll understand. She always does.

Keith scoffed.
—This is awful.

Jeord raised an eyebrow.

—That I have to get all this advice about my own sister from you —he muttered, shaking his head—. It’s infuriating.

The prince gave a half-smile.
—I’ll take that as a compliment.

A beat passed. Then Keith exhaled, slowly.
—…Thanks —he said—. I mean it.

Jeord nodded.
—I hope we can be okay after this.

The young Claes didn’t respond right away. His eyes wandered toward the petals falling from the trees.

—And who knows —he added with a faint grin—, if things go well, we might end up brothers-in-law.

Keith turned his head, scowling.

—Don’t push it.

Jeord chuckled.

But then—surprisingly—Keith cracked a small smile too. Just a faint one. Barely there. But real.

—…Still kind of hate you —he said, nudging him lightly—. Just not as much.

—I’ll take that as progress.

Keith rolled his eyes.

—Seriously, though—don’t you dare do that kind of stuff with my sister again before you’re properly married.

The prince raised both hands mockingly.

—Ah, well… I shall make no promises.

—Jeord!

The shout echoed through the garden—and somewhere, just barely, laughter followed it.

-------------

They made their way back toward his office in silence.

The castle corridors stretched out before them, the late afternoon light slanting long shadows across the marble floors. Keith shoved his hands into his coat pockets, shoulders tense but his steps steady. Jeord walked a little behind him, giving him space—but close enough to step in if needed.

When they reached the door, Jeord stopped.

—Keith —he said, quietly.

Keith turned to him, frowning slightly.

Jeord’s expression was serious. Calm, but firm.

—I’m going to stay out here while you talk to her.

Keith raised an eyebrow.

—You’re not coming in?

He shook his head.

—This is between you two right now. She needs to speak with you without me standing there.

Keith looked at the closed door, unease flickering across his face.

Jeord added, voice even softer:

—Please… try to be as calm as you can. She’s probably freaking out in there. Embarrassed. Scared.

Keith let out a slow breath, nodding.
—Yeah. I get it.

He glanced sideways at Jeord, half-annoyed but half-smiling.

—You’re damn annoying sometimes, you know that?

The prince chuckled under his breath.

—You’ve mentioned it.

Keith shook his head and turned back toward the door.

Jeord leaned casually against the wall beside the door, arms crossed. But inside, tension coiled through him. He hated waiting. Hated not being able to protect her, to fix things with a word or a gesture.

But he realized... this wasn’t something he could fix for her.

He had to trust Keith.

-------------

He took a deep breath, then slowly pushed the door open.

The scent of tea and lemon cookies hung in the air.

Inside, Katarina was sitting stiffly on the emerald green sofa, Jeord’s cape still wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her hands were knotted together in her lap, her hair slightly mussed despite her attempts to fix it. Her head snapped up the moment Keith stepped inside.

Her eyes widened.
She jolted to her feet.

—Keith—! —Her voice cracked, and her hands flew to her mouth as tears immediately welled up—. I—I’m so sorry! Please forgive me! I didn’t mean— I never wanted to hurt you—!

She was already tearing up, her body trembling with emotion.

His stomach twisted painfully.

He hated seeing her like this—scared, hurting, blaming herself.

He swallowed the knot in his throat and stepped closer.

—Hey —he said gently, raising both hands in a calming gesture—. Hey. Breathe.

She hiccupped a sob, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.

Keith gave her a small, pained smile.

—It’s okay. Prince Jeord explained everything. I understand the situation now —he said, his voice low but steady. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words—. It hurts. I’m not gonna lie about that.

Katarina’s hands tightened over the cape’s fabric, her knuckles white.

—But it’s okay —he said again, softer this time—. I want to hear your side too.

Her lips trembled.

Keith stepped closer, leaving only a few feet between them now. He looked her in the eye, even though it made the ache in his chest worse.

—I’m sad —he admitted—. But I still care about you. And I’m not mad at you, sister.

At those words, her tears finally spilled over—and a small, broken sound escaped her lips.

-------------

They sat side by side on the emerald green sofa.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, thick and clumsy.

Both opened their mouths to speak at the same time.

—I—

—You—

They stopped, glanced at each other, and then looked away just as quickly, awkwardness thick in the air.

Another silence.

Keith cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, hesitantly, he began:

—…I’m sorry for barging in like that —he said, cheeks flushing red—. I… I wasn’t expecting to find— he cut himself off, his face burning— that .

Katarina shook her head quickly, the motion a little frantic.

—No! You don’t need to apologize at all —she said, voice trembling but firm—. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.

Keith frowned slightly, confused.

Katarina twisted the fabric of Jeord’s cape between her fingers, her voice small but earnest.

—I should’ve handled things differently —she said—. I came here today because I finally understand my feelings. I wanted to tell Jeord first… since it was my free day. But I planned to speak with you tonight. When you came home from your work with Father.

His shoulders stiffened slightly.

—I… I regret the way things happened —she whispered—. It wasn’t fair to you. I should have talked to you first. I’m sorry.

Keith sat there, absorbing her words.
He leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at his hands. His voice came out low, almost hollow:

—…But even if you hadn’t come here today —he said slowly—, I would have still gotten rejected by you tonight, right?

Katarina flinched as if struck. Her throat tightened painfully.

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut against the sting.

—…Yes —she whispered.

A long exhale escaped his lips.

He leaned back against the sofa, dragging his palm across his face in a slow, almost tired gesture.

The silence returned—heavy, filled with the weight of what couldn’t be undone.

After a long moment, Keith asked, his voice raw:

—…Do you love him?

Katarina opened her eyes, meeting his gaze without wavering this time.

—Yes —she said simply.

No hesitation. Just the truth.

He closed his eyes again, his fingers pressing against his forehead as if trying to ease a headache that ran deeper than bone.

-------------

The heavy silence pressed on them both.

Keith broke it first.
He exhaled shakily, lowering his hand from his face.

—…Thank you —he said, voice rough—. For being honest with me.

Her chest tightened painfully. She could hear the strain in his voice—the effort it took to stay composed.

He looked at her now, really looked at her, and didn’t hide the hurt in his eyes.

—I’m hurt, sister —he said, voice cracking slightly—. I can’t pretend this doesn't feel horrible inside. Like something tearing open.

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back a sob, but he kept going— he needed to.

—Because I love you —he said—. I’ve been in love with you for the last ten years.

Katarina’s vision blurred with tears instantly.

—I wanted… —Keith continued, swallowing hard— I wanted to be with you. Forever. I thought… if I stayed by your side, protected you, cared for you… maybe someday you’d see me that way too.

He smiled—but it was broken, a smile filled with unbearable sadness.

—And now… seeing the love of my life in love with someone else —his voice faltered, and he lowered his head— It hurts deeper than anything I’ve ever felt.

Katarina couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, silent at first.

—Keith… —she whispered.

Her hands trembled in her lap.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying—and failing—to compose himself.

—I’m sorry —she said through her tears, her voice trembling—. I’m so sorry.

He shook his head.
—Don’t apologize. Please.

She tried to reach for him—hesitant, but needing to bridge the space between them.

—Thank you —she said instead—. Thank you for loving me. For caring for me so deeply, so selflessly, all this time.

His shoulders quivered.

She pressed on, voice breaking, but sincere:

—I love you too. Just… not the way you wanted. You’re my brother. My family. I don’t ever want to lose you, Keith.

Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress.

—I was so afraid of telling you how I felt… because I didn’t want to lose you.

For a second, Keith didn’t move.

And then—he pulled her into a hug.

She gasped softly and immediately hugged him back, clinging to him like a lifeline.

—You’ll never lose me —Keith said into her hair, his voice thick with emotion—. You’re my family. Always.

Katarina sobbed against his chest, the fear and guilt spilling out in her cries.

And Keith cried too—quiet, shaking, but holding her even tighter.

For a long time, they just stayed like that.

-------------

Jeord shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

He had been standing outside his own office for what felt like hours, though he knew it had barely been more than a handful of minutes.

The quiet behind the door was both reassuring and unsettling.

At least there had been no shouting. No urgent call for help. No crashing furniture, no sobs loud enough to summon the whole castle.

He hadn’t heard much of anything, really. Just the muffled sounds of voices now and then—too soft to make out. And because of that, he hadn’t dared interrupt them.

Still, the longer he stood there, the more uncomfortable he grew. His back ached from keeping still. His boots scuffed lightly against the marble floor as he shifted again, hands tucked stiffly behind his back.

I hope they’re okay , he thought.

He didn't want Keith to suffer more than he already had. And he didn’t want Katarina drowning in guilt either. She was probably in there, crying and blaming herself, even when none of this was truly anyone’s fault.

Jeord exhaled quietly, closing his eyes for a moment.

They were going to have to handle things carefully from now on.

Not just with Keith. But everyone.

Mary, Alan, Nicol, Maria…

Katarina had no idea how many hearts she carried unknowingly in her hands. How many of her friends harbored feelings for her they had buried under smiles and excuses.

But he knew.

And if today’s disaster taught us anything —he thought grimly—, it’s that we can’t let her stumble into another heartbreak without warning.

Maybe it would be better if he and Keith talked to the others before Katarina said anything herself. Before she, in her well-meaning but clumsy way, made everything worse without realizing it.

Jeord rubbed the back of his neck, sighing silently.

Nicol.

That name stayed in his mind longer than the others.

He and Nicol were friends. Trusted colleagues in matters of diplomacy and internal affairs. They had worked side by side for the good of the kingdom.

But the feelings between them, when it came to Katarina, had driven an invisible wedge. A tension neither had spoken aloud—but which hung heavy every time Nicol looked at her a little too long, with too much quiet yearning in his eyes.

Jeord had seen it.

And it had eaten at him like acid .

Jealousy, anger—ugly feelings he hated in himself, but couldn't deny.

I’ll talk to him , Jeord decided. Privately. Before anything gets worse.

Knowing that Katarina loved him back, those poisonous feelings had begun to melt, little by little. The ice around his heart was cracking.

He didn’t want to lose his friends because of love. Not when he could protect both.

Still, as he stood outside the door, waiting, a flicker of doubt stirred inside him.

Will things ever really be the same between us?

Jeord shifted his feet again, listening.
Still no sound. No movement from inside.

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning his head back lightly against the stone wall.

Just a little longer , he told himself.

Then... we'll face whatever comes next.

-------------

Inside the office, the sobs had quieted.

But neither Keith nor Katarina had let go yet.

They remained wrapped in each other’s arms, as if holding back the inevitable moment when things would have to change forever.

It was Keith who finally broke the hug—reluctantly, almost painfully. His arms dropped slowly from around her, though part of him wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever.

He pulled back just enough to see her face.

Both of them had red, puffy eyes from crying. Her cheeks were still damp with tears.

He gave a soft, broken smile and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a neatly folded handkerchief. He gently dabbed under her eyes, careful not to hurt her, his touch surprisingly tender for someone who looked so exhausted.

—Thank you —he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion—. For caring about me. For loving me… even if it’s not the way I wanted.

Her lower lip trembled again, but she forced herself to smile through it.

Keith tucked the handkerchief into her hands, squeezing them lightly.

—And… —he added, exhaling a bit shakily— even if I don’t like it much… I’ll support you two. I hope you’ll be happy.

Katarina’s eyes widened. She blushed, deeply, her heart clenching painfully at his generosity.

—Keith… thank you —she whispered.

Keith managed a small, lopsided smile.

But then he frowned, his brows furrowing sternly.

—And another thing —he said, his tone half-scolding now—. I already warned Jeord, but I’m telling you too.

She blinked, confused.

—No more of those kinds of things again before you’re properly married —he said flatly, his cheeks coloring a little.

Katarina went crimson in an instant, hands flying up to her face in mortification.

—I—! W-We—! It’s not—! —she stammered—. We didn’t mean to! We just—! I don’t even remember how it happened—!

She waved her hands in front of her in full panic, the words tumbling out in a frantic mess.

Keith laughed under his breath, the sound soft but genuine.

—It’s okay —he said, still chuckling.

Then, more seriously:

—But be careful, alright? Don’t do something you’ll regret later. Promise me.

Katarina nodded frantically, still beet red.

—I-I promise!

He ruffled her hair affectionately, earning a half-hearted, embarrassed whine from her.

And for the first time since all of this had started, the heaviness in the room lifted—just a little.

-------------

Outside the office, Jeord was nearly at his wits’ end.

He shifted his feet again, glancing at the door, debating for the hundredth time whether he should knock, crack it open just a little—something.

Maybe they need me. Maybe something’s wrong. Maybe—

The door creaked open.

He straightened at once.

Standing there, peeking out shyly, was Katarina.

Her eyes were still a little red and puffy from crying, but she smiled at him—a soft, tired smile.

—Jeord —she said gently—, please come inside.

He crossed the short distance in two steps, unable to help himself. He took her hands carefully, enclosing them between his.

—Are you alright? —he asked, searching her face.

The sight of her tear-stained cheeks, the faint tremble in her lips—it twisted something deep in his chest. He had to swallow hard against the sudden prickling behind his eyes.

Katarina squeezed his hands lightly.

—I’m okay —she said softly—. We talked enough. We’ll be alright.

Her smile, though wobbly, was real.

Jeord let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

She was still his brave, stubborn Katarina.

—Alright —he said, managing a small smile of his own—. Then let’s make things a little more comfortable.

He stepped back and motioned toward a passing maid in the hall.

—Would you kindly bring three cups of tea to my office? And some sweets if you have them —he asked.

The maid curtsied quickly and hurried off.

Jeord turned back to Katarina and followed her into the room.

Keith was already seated again on the sofa, looking worn but composed. He gave Jeord a small nod as he entered. He returned it quietly and took his seat beside Katarina, opposite Keith.

For a few moments, none of them spoke.

The room was filled with a strange, tentative calm—like the eye of a storm that had finally passed but still left the air crackling with tension.

When the maid returned with the tea and a plate of biscuits, Katarina smiled gratefully and helped set the cups.

They each took one in hand, sipping slowly.

The warmth of the tea seeped into their fingers, soothing nerves frayed by too many emotions.

It was awkward. Of course it was awkward. The glances, the too-careful movements, the heavy silences between words that never quite came.

But beneath it all, there was something new starting to take root.

Hope.

Somehow, even after everything... they believed things would be alright.

Chapter Text

Two days had passed since that painful afternoon.

In that time, Keith and Jeord had spoken again, this time with clearer heads and cautious cooperation. The topic had been inevitable: how to break the news to their friends.

Jeord had insisted that Katarina wait a little longer before making any public announcements.

They needed time—to breathe, to understand their new relationship, to talk about their feelings privately before inviting the chaos that would inevitably follow.

Katarina hadn’t fully understood the reasoning.

She had pouted, confused, arguing something along the lines of:

—But isn't it better if everyone knows, so they can be happy for us?

Keith, grimacing the whole way through, had agreed to back Jeord up—despite the growing pit in his stomach about leaving his sister alone with him even longer.

It’s for damage control , Keith told himself.

Damage control.

-------------

The next day, Keith had taken the first difficult steps.

He spoke to Mary and Prince Alan first.

It had not gone particularly well.

The moment he mentioned Katarina and Jeord’s relationship, Mary’s face twisted in fury.

—I’ll end him —she said flatly.

She rose from her chair, fists clenched, already halfway to the door.

Alan barely managed to catch her by the sleeve.

—Calm down! —he said, dragging her back to the sofa—. Listen first.

Alan's own face was tight with sadness, but he managed to stay calm.

He had long accepted, in his quiet way, that his feelings would never be returned. He agreed with Keith that the best they could do now was help Mary not cause a scandal—or worse.

After much arguing and a lot of loud sighing, Mary reluctantly agreed to wait and act normal.

For now.

-------------

That same afternoon, Keith went to the Ministry of Magic.

He was expecting to run into Sophia and Maria near the library entrance.

Sophia had been furious the moment she heard the news—her red eyes flashing. Then sadness overtook.

—If it’s for Lady Katarina’s sake… —she lamented, clutching a book so tightly it might have torn in her hands.

Maria, by contrast, had simply smiled sadly and wished the couple happiness.

—It’s what Lady Katarina truly wants, isn’t it? —she said gently—. That’s all that matters.

Sophia, however, wasn’t finished.

—Do you want me to tell my brother? —she mentioned to Keith, her voice trembling with worry.

Keith shook his head, feeling the headache already building behind his eyes.

—No need —he said—. Jeord’s handling it. Right now, actually.

-------------

He sat in his private office at the palace, waiting.

An untouched cup of tea cooled on the side table. His hands rested on the desk, fingers steepled thoughtfully.

I hope he takes this well , he thought grimly.

Or at least… not badly.

There was a knock at the door.

Jeord straightened.

—Come in —he said, voice steady.

The door opened, and Nicol entered.

He was as calm and collected as ever—elegant in his dark uniform, his face unreadable as always.

He closed the door behind him and gave a respectful bow.

—You summoned me, Your Highness? —Nicol asked, voice polite, detached—completely unaware of the storm about to fall on him.

Jeord gestured toward the seat opposite his desk.

—Yes, Nicol. Please. Sit.

And Nicol obeyed, seating himself gracefully.

-------------

Jeord hesitated for a moment.

He weighed his options—whether to skirt around the topic, ease into it carefully—or to simply speak the truth plainly, as Nicol deserved.

He chose honesty.

Once Nicol had settled into the chair across from him, a small, composed figure against the heavy furnishings of the office, a silence fell between them. The kind of silence that stretched and thickened with every passing second.

Jeord exhaled quietly.

—I called you here —he said— because… I wanted you to hear it directly from me.

Nicol’s expression remained serene, patient.

Jeord leaned forward slightly, steeling himself.

—I’m properly courting Katarina now —he said, voice calm but firm—. She confessed her love to me. And I…

He smiled faintly, something soft and almost painful flickering across his face.

—I reciprocated.

For a moment, Nicol didn’t move.

His eyes widened slightly, the smallest crack in his polished composure.

He didn’t look at Jeord.

Instead, his gaze dropped to the floor, to some invisible point between them.

The silence that followed was taut, sharp-edged.

Then, slowly, Nicol composed himself again.

He lifted his head, his face a perfect mask of serenity once more.

—Congratulations —he said politely, his voice even—. I’m glad to hear you are both happy.

The words were correct. Impeccable. And yet, there was something in the way he said them—a hollowness, a distance.

Nicol continued, almost mechanically:

—Was I summoned to assist with something? Related to this news?

Jeord's heart twisted a little.

The formality—the cold, polite wall Nicol had thrown up between them—felt like a slap, even though he knew Nicol didn’t intend it that way.

—No —Jeord said, breaking the stiffness in the air.

His tone softened, less royal, more personal.

—I didn’t call you here for that.

Nicol raised an eyebrow slightly, as if inviting him to continue.

Jeord sat back in his chair, exhaling.

—I wanted to speak to you. About us.

That caught Nicol's attention.
He tilted his head very slightly.

Silent. Waiting.

—What’s there to speak about? —Nicol asked after a beat, his voice still mild but quieter, heavier.

Jeord felt a prickle of guilt creep up his spine.

Maybe this wasn’t the right way to go about it.
Maybe announcing his happiness while Nicol was left to swallow his heartbreak wasn’t as noble as he had convinced himself it would be.

He realized, with a sort of grim clarity, that he was already in too deep to turn back now.
If he stopped here, if he let Nicol retreat behind that perfect, polite mask again—this quiet crack between them would only widen.

He hadn't spoken up before because it was easier to pretend nothing was there.

Because they both knew where the dangerous topics lay, and they had danced carefully around them for years.

But this— this —couldn’t be danced around anymore.

Jeord inhaled slowly.

—There’s no need to hide it anymore, Nicol —he said, voice steady, almost soft—. I know you have feelings for Katarina.

Nicol flinched.
Just barely.

But Jeord saw it—the way his hand tightened on the armrest, the way his gaze momentarily broke from Jeord’s face.

Nicol immediately composed himself, of course.

He straightened slightly, his tone polite but brittle as he spoke:

—You’re mistaken.

Jeord gave a small, sad smile.

—No, I’m not.

Nicol’s mouth tightened into a thin line.

Jeord leaned forward, resting his elbows lightly on the desk.

—Even if I didn’t want to see it back then… even if I tried to ignore it —he said—, it was there. It’s still there.

Nicol dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to meet Jeord’s eyes.

The room fell into silence again, but this time it was charged, pulsing with words left unspoken for too long.

Finally, after a long moment, Nicol spoke—so quietly he almost missed it:

—… I’m sorry .

The words were raw. Stripped of polish.

Nothing like the practiced courtesies Nicol usually wore like armor.

Jeord felt something tight loosen inside his chest.
He shook his head.

—It’s okay —he said.

And he meant it. Even if a small part of him still ached with old jealousy, old fears, he meant it.

The tension drained slowly from his body.

—I’m sorry too —Jeord added after a pause.

Nicol’s head lifted sharply, confused.

—…Why? I—I don’t understand —he asked, genuinely puzzled. His brow furrowed faintly. His voice low, but touched with real confusion.

Jeord smiled faintly—a bittersweet curve of his lips.

—It’s not surprising —he admitted—. It took me a long time to understand it too.

He sat back in his chair, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders.

—I’ve always been good at patience —Jeord said quietly—. At smiling when I needed to. At playing the perfect prince. But inside… I was cold. Detached. I only really cared about what belonged to me, what I wanted. Katarina changed that.

Nicol said nothing, but he listened—truly listened—the way only he could.

The prince pressed on, heart thudding harder than he liked.

—She made me realize that I care for others too. Not just her, not just myself. I care for all of you. 

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling.

—And maybe… —he said, voice growing softer— maybe I avoided talking about this because it was easier. Safer. If we didn’t say anything, we didn’t have to acknowledge what stood between us.

His eyes met Nicol’s.

—But for the sake of our friendship —he said firmly—, I have to break down this wall we’ve built. I can't keep pretending we are the same as before.

Jeord smiled, just faintly—almost sadly.

—I understand if you’re hurt by this —he continued—. If you’re angry, too. But I’d hate myself if I didn’t do this right. If I didn’t at least try to be a better friend. A better man. For Katarina—and for me. That's why I wanted to tell you this myself.

He let the words fall into the quiet between them, feeling uncomfortably exposed.

It wasn’t easy—baring his heart like this to anyone who wasn’t Katarina.
It felt strange. Raw. Vulnerable.

He shifted slightly, resisting the urge to look away.

For a moment, Nicol simply sat there.
Silent. Processing.

Then, slowly, Nicol’s lips curved into a soft smile.
Small. Almost imperceptible. But genuine.

—Thank you —Nicol said, voice quiet but steady.

Jeord blinked, a little caught off guard.

Nicol rose gracefully from his chair, smoothing the front of his coat.

—I have a lot to think about —Nicol said, looking at Jeord with those piercing dark eyes that saw far more than they ever let on—. But once I have… I would like to meet again. Perhaps for afternoon tea.

A tentative peace offering.

Jeord smiled too, warmth blooming quietly in his chest.

—You’re always welcome —he said.

Nicol gave a small bow—elegant, respectful—and turned, leaving the office with his usual quiet steps.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And Jeord was left alone with his thoughts.

For a while, he just sat there—feeling the late afternoon sun on his face, the teacups cooling nearby, the heavy silence that now felt strangely lighter.

He knew he had done the right thing.

The right thing, not the easy thing.

And somewhere deep inside, a small flutter of pride stirred—gentle and unfamiliar.

Maybe... maybe I really am becoming the man she deserves.

He closed his eyes briefly and smiled.

Chapter Text

A couple of days later, Jeord finally gave Katarina the greenlight.

—We can tell them —he said with a soft smile, brushing a lock of hair from her face—. We’re ready.

Katarina’s eyes lit up like the sky before fireworks.

—Really?!

He nodded.

—Really.

And just like that, the whirlwind began.

-------------

She arranged everything with great enthusiasm—a proper afternoon tea at Claes Manor. Elegant, warm, and full of the sweets she loved. She made sure the best cakes were served, that the tea was brewed just right.

But when the day finally arrived, and everyone gathered around the table, the atmosphere was... complicated.

The guests had already been prepared. So when they arrived, none of their faces carried surprise. Only restraint.

Mary sat beside Sophia, looking like she’d bitten through her teacup. Her lips were stretched into a tight, unconvincing smile.

Alan glanced between the cups and Katarina, sighing softly but not saying much. Nicol was unreadable, as always. Maria offered small, polite conversation.

They all tried.

They really tried.

After all, this was Katarina.

And they all loved her.

-------------

After the tea had been poured and half the cakes had vanished, Katarina stood up abruptly, hands shaking a little as she gripped the edge of the table.

—U-Um… —she cleared her throat—. I—I wanted to tell you all something important today!

Jeord stood beside her, offering a quiet, reassuring glance.

She smiled nervously, cheeks pink.

—So… surprise! —She waved her hands like she was pulling a rabbit out of a hat—. Jeord and I are, uh… we’re dating! For real this time!

Silence.
One beat. Two.

Everyone stood.
And slowly, one by one, they approached the couple with congratulations.
Polite. Warm. But a little too careful.

Keith and Nicol stood a little behind the group, watching.

It wasn’t easy, but time had dulled the edge of their heartbreak. Their glances met.
A small laugh escaped both of them at the same time—tired, quiet, a little pained. But real.

They would be okay.
Eventually.

-------------

Mary made her way to Katarina last.

She hugged her tightly—maybe a little too tightly—and whispered in her ear:

— If Prince Jeord ever breaks your heart… we’re leaving the country. Just you and me. I know a guy who can forge documents.

Katarina laughed, flushed.

—Mary! No! That won’t be necessary!

Jeord, standing just a step away, gave a faint, amused sigh.

—I assure you —he said—, it won’t come to that.

Mary narrowed her eyes at him.

—It better not —she said sweetly, like she wasn’t halfway serious.

The tension lightened after that, bit by bit.

Katarina was smiling again. Jeord’s hand brushed gently against hers as they stood side by side.

-------------

The sun had begun to set, painting the room in hues of gold and rose. The last of the guests were still chatting over the final sips of tea, but the mood had grown quieter, more content.

Katarina slipped away from their friends, her fingers brushing along the tops of flowers as she walked toward the far end of the garden. The breeze played gently with the ends of her hair, and her heart felt oddly light—like something heavy had finally been set down.

She didn’t hear her fiancé’s footsteps.

—There you are —he said softly.

She turned with a smile, his presence instantly grounding her.

He stepped close, hands tucked behind his back like always.

—Escaping the party?

She giggled.

—I needed a bit of air.

He moved beside her, and they walked slowly along the winding path between rose bushes and twilight-colored lilies.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Just the soft sound of the wind in the trees.

—I’ve dreamed about telling everyone —Jeord said—. About us. About you choosing me.

Katarina flushed, but her smile remained.

—I still can’t believe it’s real —she murmured—. That everyone knows. That… we’re really doing this.

His hand found hers.

—I love you —he said simply.

Katarina stopped walking.
She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering in the amber light.

—I love you too, Jeord.

He leaned in, brushing his fingers gently along her cheek.
She felt her heart flutter.

And when he kissed her, it was slow—deep, full of everything they had waited to say, everything they hadn’t dared to imagine.

His arms wrapped around her waist, hers clutched gently at his coat.

The kiss deepened—warmth spreading between them like the sun sinking over the hills.

Until—

Katarina suddenly pulled back, gasping softly, face turning scarlet.

—W-We shouldn’t—! —she stammered, eyes wide—. W-We’re not married yet!

Jeord blinked, caught between surprise and amusement.

Then he laughed—genuine, soft, and full of adoration.

—You mean you don’t want to repeat the “sofa incident”?

—Jeord! —she shrieked, smacking his arm and hiding her face with her hands—. Don’t call it that!!

He smiled, stepping forward and wrapping her in his arms.
She didn't resist this time. She buried her face in his chest, still warm from the blush on her cheeks.

He rested his chin atop her head, holding her close as the sky turned violet above them.

—I promise —he whispered—, no more sofa incidents until after the wedding.

—…You’re teasing again.

—I’m loving you.

She peeked up at him through her lashes.

—Then keep doing that —she murmured.

And in the quiet garden, just the two of them and the setting sun, they held each other for a little while longer—no secrets, no fear.

Just love.

-------------

Back in the sitting room, the tea party was winding down.

Sort of.

Mary still hadn’t smiled. She sat with her arms crossed, lips pressed into a pout sharp enough to cut glass.

Alan, standing behind her, patted her shoulder cheerfully while sipping from his cup.

—Come on, Mary —he chuckled—. At least pretend you’re happy for them.

—I am happy —she growled.

Alan raised an eyebrow.

—You look like you’re plotting a murder.

—I am also doing that —she muttered darkly.

On the other side of the room, Maria and Sophia sat near the window, completely unbothered by the tension.

—So, in A Noble Rose in Chains , Lady Ailith finally tells the prince she’s been faking her memory loss —Sophia said as she passed Maria another pastry.

Maria’s eyes sparkled.

—Wait, she was faking it?! I thought that was a magic curse!

—Nope. All her idea. Dramatic, right?

—Brilliant —Maria said, biting into her biscuit.

-------------

Meanwhile, on the lounge chairs near the fireplace, Keith was sipping juice—quiet, content, not really paying attention—when Nicol sat down beside him.

Keith glanced over, surprised.

—Are you doing okay, Keith? —Nicol asked quietly.

Keith shrugged, setting down his cup.

—Yeah… better now. You?

Nicol gave a small, honest nod.

—I am. Talking to Jeord helped a lot.

Keith smiled, relieved.

—Glad to hear that.

A pause passed between them before Nicol spoke again.

—I heard from Sophia… —he said, glancing over— that you were the first one to find out about their relationship.

Keith groaned softly.

—Unfortunately, yes.

Nicol looked curious now.

—How did you find out, anyway?

There was a pause.

Then Keith’s face flushed instantly.

He looked around cautiously, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper.

—Please don’t repeat this to anyone —he whispered, mortified—. …Let’s just say I walked into Jeord’s office without knocking.

Nicol raised an eyebrow.

—And?

Keith hesitated, eyes haunted.

—I—I found them… on the sofa.

Nicol blinked, mildly alarmed. Keith wasn’t looking at him anymore. He stared into his glass like it held memories he’d rather drown.

—They weren’t exactly… having tea .

Nicol’s eyes flew wide open, his face going pale.

—They were fully clothed —Keith said quickly—but it didn’t help—. Mostly . I think. I didn’t stay long enough to confirm that.

Nicol was frozen, staring at him.

— I — I think I saw more than a brother should ever see —Keith whispered, eyes closed.

Nicol turned red.
Then paler than before.
Then red again.

He coughed, once, sharply, trying to maintain composure. He adjusted the collar of his coat.
—…Oh.

It was then that they heard a loud glass breaking sound—

Everyone froze.

—He did WHAT ?!

Mary’s voice tore through the room like thunder. She had walked up to them earlier, but they had not noticed given the intimate topic at hand.

Keith jolted upright in his seat.

Oh no.

— WHERE IS HE ?!

Alan, confused, tried to block her path.

—Mary, wait—!

The rest of the group—Sophia, Maria, even Nicol—tried to intervene, scrambling to stop her.

And Keith?

He just slumped in his chair, covering his face with both hands and groaning.

…Next time, I’m knocking.