It was a necessary move, as Eiri’s clothing was distinctly Vaetrean in style. They’d forgone a corset, something many younger men and women had brought back into fashion recently, but Eiri was slender enough as it was. He wouldn’t need it. His black jacket was the same style as Syrus’, with a stiff collar and structured body. It made the Canjiri accents stand out all the more. Where red thread adorned Syrus’ white jacket, the embroidery on Eiri’s was all in gold, shining in the magelights every time he moved. The top edge of the collar was a solid band of gold thread, while delicate swirls traced down his sleeves and cuffs.
The same embroidery flowed down the lines of his trousers, borrowed from Ellis to create a looser fit than was common in Vaetreas. Xan had taken them in at the waist to keep them from falling down, but the nod to Canjiri style was worth it. Given that all four of them were wearing similar garments, Syrus had to wonder if Xan and Eiri had slept at all. He and Ellis had done what they could to help, but life as a prince hadn’t left them with the skills needed for such delicate work.
“We have to see this through,” he said in a low whisper. “Did I already tell you that you look beautiful?”
That got him a tiny smile. “You did. Quite thoroughly.”
Syrus smiled too. He had indeed told Eiri that before kissinghim senseless. The clothes he’d worked so hard on had nearly ended up on the floor before they’d gotten control of themselves. It seemed that once they’d allowed themselves to admit their attraction, they couldn’t get enough of each other. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected from this marriage, but he didn’t regret his decision to actually get to know Eiri. He could only hope that the inevitable disaster tonight wouldn’t change Eiri’s mind.
“Here they come,” Eiri murmured, and Syrus turned to see Xan and Ellis hurrying down the hallway. Ellis had opted for blue with silver embellishments, where Xan had chosen a coppery color that made his soft brown skin glow. The embellishments on his clothing were, coincidentally, a shade of blue similar to what Ellis wore.
At the moment, Syrus was more concerned with the expressions they wore, rather than their clothing. One thing he could always rely on with Ellis was that his brother would be the voice of calm and reason, not ruled by his emotions like so many in their family, including Xan. As they walked down the hallway together, though, Ellis’ face was a thundercloud of frustration and anger, while Xan was unusually stoic. His perpetual laid-back smile was nowhere to be seen and he seemed almost… guilty?
Because the night wasn’t already going to be stressful enough, why not add in a mess between his best friend and his baby brother?
“Is everything alright?” he asked once the group was together, eyeing Ellis and Xan warily.
“Fine.”
“Perfect.”
The two spoke at the same time without once looking at each other. He glanced over at Eiri, who looked as skeptical as Syrus. They didn’t have time to figure this oneout, though. They were already toeing the line between fashionably late and just late. The former was expected; the latter would earn him a lecture from the queen, at the very least, and given the stir they were about to create, he didn’t want to give her any other reasons to come after them.
“That was believable,” Eiri muttered.
“Just keep it together for tonight,” Syrus said to the two of them. “We have to commit to this and stand together or it’s going to blow up in our faces. Eiri and I are going to go in first, but the two of you need to be right behind us. Are you ready?”
“I don’t need a lecture from you. I’m fine,” Ellis snapped, and that finally got Xan’s attention. He grimaced and glanced at Ellis, his lips parted as if he were going to say something, but apparently decided against it and just shook his head, looking away again. Ellis, for his part, steadfastly refused to look at Xan.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Eiri said before Syrus could ask his brother what exactly was going on.
“You’re right. Everything else can wait,” he agreed. “We have to look confident and calm or this won’t work. Xan, Ellis? Stick close.” He turned and held his arm out to Eiri, who didn’t hesitate to take it. Even if the other two couldn’t keep it together, he and Eiri needed to. His mother wouldn’t hesitate to exploit any crack in their facade.
The music inside the ballroom swelled, then mellowed out, shifting from a slow, intimate song to a more lively dance. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then lifted his chin and walked into the room, Eiri on his arm.
It took less time than he’d thought it would for people to notice them. As a prince, he never blended into a crowd, usually receiving absent-minded bows from those who knew how little interest he had in formality. Before his marriage, he’d occasionally get a flirtation or blatant invitation from particularly audacious courtiers or invitations to dinner from scheming parentshoping to ensnare him. Both reactions were normal, something he’d grown used to.
At first, it was much the same. The first few dancers they passed gave their usual bows, though he saw more than a few startled looks when they realized Eiri was with him. Some belatedly tried to hide their sneers when they realized he and Eiri were arm in arm, but most didn’t bother. From there, it only took a few steps for the whispers to start when people noticed his clothing. While embroidery and embellishments were hardly unusual, even with the more muted palettes that were in fashion, it was the design that had people taking notice. The waves and tropical flowers were distinctly Canjiri, something no Vaetrean would be caught dead wearing. For a prince of the realm, even one so removed from the throne as him, to wear them made a stronger statement than anything he could have said out loud.
Naturally, those whispers reached the dais at the end of the room long before Syrus and Eiri did. His mother’s expression was impressively placid as the two of them bowed before her, but he could feel her anger bubbling below that calm surface. Beside her, his father couldn’t quite match her, his lips tight as he fought back a frown and his eyes narrowed with displeasure. Brandow, as crown prince, stood to the other side of their mother, his disgust plain to see. He clearly hadn’t taken all their mother’s lessons to heart yet, for his expression to be so unguarded.
The silence stretched, and Syrus knew it was on purpose. She couldn’t openly lash out at her family, but she could and would make him wait, stuck in place, until she deigned to give them her attention. His mother excelled at power plays.
“Syrus,” Queen Delia said, her voice clipped when she finally acknowledged them. Acknowledgedhimanyway. She didn’t so much as glance at Eiri, something that would be notedby everyone close enough to witness the interaction. Legally, he and Eiri had the same status now that they were married, and as Eiri’s husband, any insult to him was an insult to Syrus. Protesting would only draw more attention to it, though, and add to her anger.
Fuck, this was why Syrus had never bothered with politics before. It was a mess of moves and countermoves, always searching for weaknesses and waiting for a knife in the back. Give him a sword and an open battlefield any day. At least that was honest.
“Your Majesty.” He dipped his head, just enough to show deference, but not so much as to show weakness. The grip on his arm tightened, the only outward sign of Eiri’s nerves, and he realized she’d finally glanced at the other man.
“It’s nice of you to finally join us,” she said. The edge to her voice said otherwise, and Eiri had to notice it, but he wisely chose not to react to it. Her dark eyes darted over their shoulders to Xan and Ellis behind them, and for a moment, she seemed to tense. Her gaze lingered on them for a second too long, her lips pressed together into a thin line, before she finally looked away.
She glanced at their clothes, lingering on the details of the embroidery and the loose fit of Eiri’s pants. That look made her disapproval known to the entire room without having to say the words, but naturally, she said them anyway. “What an interesting design. I’ll have to speak to your tailor.”
It was a threat, plain and simple. Syrus cleared his throat, ready to step in before the tailor lost her job for something she hadn’t done, but Eiri beat him to it.
“As talented as I’m sure your Vaetrean artists are, I did the work myself,” he said smoothly, his lilting Canjiri accent distinctly out of place, but rather than the frustration Syrus had once felt, now he was simply proud of Eiri for not attempting tocut off pieces of himself to fit the mold the queen had created for him.
“We will have breakfast tomorrow morning, and you can tell me all about it.” She smiled as she said it, but only a fool would believe it was a friendly invitation.
