a/n; hope everyone enjoys this chapter! do vote and comment as it would greatly motivate me!

—

"It's stifling to be back to normal after such a wonderful night, isn't it?"

Silas had asked you that question. He was teasing you, you realized, because it seemed that your head was still spinning and in the clouds.

And he was right, too. It was stifling to be back at your study after the ball.

The previous night had been lovely, but unfortunately, also quick. Before you had known it, the festivities had passed, and now you were crouched on your desk, dark circles under your eyes as you tried desperately to clear your vision.

You and Silas had only returned to the palace in the wee hours of the morning. You had meant to be responsible; you really had; but Silas had been hard to resist. The prince had been adamant on dancing a second time, and that second time included...

A lot of skinship.

Even as the next day had dawned, his touch still lingered on your skin. It had been brief, though fluttering like — the way Silas's slender fingers had grazed you — it was akin to feeling a butterfly's wings skimming your skin.

The sensation had been wholly pleasant, and yet you had been left wanting more. Silas and your relationship was built on many things: trust, love, connection, and physical touch. You and Silas were never selfish with physical touch, and skinship was entirely normal between the two of you. And yet...

Were you viewing Silas in a romantic light? It was hard to say, considering that you had loved him from the beginning of time. You two never bothered to put a label to your relationship, and kisses on the cheeks, on the hands — it had only seemed natural to do.

Without knowing, your fingers traveled to your lips. If a real kiss meant one on the lips, you had never really kissed someone before, then.

...Why were you thinking about such things? You were Silas's butler, for God's sake. Work was far more important — but yes, you were also at the age where you would have to think about dating...

Silas's voice interrupted your thoughts. You were glad to be rid of them, and instead you looked over at him. Similar to you, he looked exhausted.

"Did you have fun last night, Y/n?" Asked Silas.

"I did," you said wryly, "but I'm not having a lot of fun now that my sleep has been robbed. I told you repeatedly that we were to leave at midnight, and yet the ball kept going on and on until..."

You stifled a yawn and glanced back down at your papers. The words were swarming in your vision. A headache thrummed at your head. Even though it was early in the morning, you had four cups of tea now empty sitting on your study table.

"Sorry for that." Silas sounded unapologetic. "You can take a rest first before you continue working."

"You don't look like you're in any better shape than I am."

"My eyelids aren't as droopy as yours, though," Silas laughed. You watched through your half lidded eyes as the prince made his way to you, scrunching your nose.

"Don't come here. Finish your work."

"You should rest, Y/n," Silas cajoled, and he petted your head lightly.

Your frown deepened. Silas thought it was cute, that in your sleepiness, you became blur to your surroundings. It was so unlike your usual cautious self.

"Don't pet my head like I'm a dog."

Silas ruffled your hair. You lay on your desk, your cheek pressed to its surface. Mountains and mountains of paperwork met your eyes and you cursed under your breath.

"Fuck, this..."

"Wow. You hardly curse, Y/n. You're someone who can't survive on a few hours of sleep, huh?"

Technically speaking, you could, but the sleep you had gotten last night couldn't even be called sleep. It had been more similar to a nap, for you had only truly slept for an hour or two. The other two hours were spent thinking about the night you had shared with Silas, the memories warm and soft and cherished.

"Minimum capacity is four hours," you said, evidently lethargic. "I must have only gotten two or one last night. It's all your fault, Silas."

"Yes, yes. I'm guilty. If it makes you feel better —"

"Nothing could make me feel better." You bemoaned.

Oh, you were so cute, Silas thought in delight. His fingers went to your cheek, and you held onto him, your fingers interlacing together.

"To finish my sentence, if it makes you feel better, Lady Ivory was kind enough to send some pumpkin pie our way. She must have seen how much you enjoyed it."

"Right, the pumpkin pie..." you muttered. "And then Count Paul went ahead and bothered me —"

Oh, right.

That reminded you. While you had let Silas off the hook for his actions easily, his actions still weren't encouraged. You forced yourself to sit up, and Silas frowned.

His fingers fell off your cheek, and you rubbed your eyes. Did you nearly just sleep on your job? That wasn't ideal. You reached out to the teapot (though regrettably, the tea was now cold), and sighed.

"That reminds me, Silas. Please be more conscious of your behavior. I say this from the viewpoint of your butler." You generously poured tea into the remaining cup, and drank it readily. You made a face — the tea wasn't pleasant.

You would have preferred hot tea, for it would have scorched your tongue, allowing you to stir from your sleepiness. Cold tea would do for now.

"So what I did was wrong?"

You thought back to the satisfaction that you had felt when you had seen Count Paul struggling. You were kind in nature, yes, but you were also human. You were bound to feel a glint of happiness in seeing your enemies suffer. That wasn't the best mindset, but...

"Yes, Silas." You said, exasperated, massaging your temple. "You had good intentions, and you did go about it rather well, but it wasn't meant to escalate into violence."

"I merely poked him with a pick, Y/n." Silas shrugged. "It was his fault for being so weak."

"You forget that you tend to be incredibly strong, Silas?" You shot him a look.

"No, it was his fault for being weak." But Silas looked pleased at the praise. "Give me that cup of tea, Y/n. I need a drink from it. I'm tired, too."

"I just drank from it." You blinked.

"And?"

"I can get you another cup," you clarified.

"Why bother you? You're obviously exhausted."

"But —"

"Since when were you so saliva-conscious?" Silas asked, amused.

"No, I'm not." You defended yourself, pushing the cup adamantly towards Silas, "you're usually someone who's particular about cleanliness, so I thought you would bother about it."

"We've shared food before, have we not?" Silas looked genuinely confused. "Even from young, we ate mangoes, pie, and all those goodies together...why are you so flustered?"

You paused. "Do I look flustered?"

"Your cheeks are all red," Silas lied.

Your hands scrambled for a mirror, and you shoved Silas. "You liar. My cheeks aren't red."

"It would be cute if they were, though."

You stared at Silas.

"Not saying you aren't cute now, but..." Silas smiled. "What's wrong?"

"That...wasn't why I looked at you, but sure." You muttered under your breath.

Silas — he was so vocal — so obvious — about his affections. How was that even possible? Meanwhile, it felt like you were still grappling at the straws, fumbling about clumsily. Yes, you found it easy to love Silas — you found it easy to show it — but to voice it out, to actually look at your emotions and face it —

It wasn't easy.

Maybe it had been easy once, and maybe you had shown it brightly and shamelessly to the world before, but now it was different. Your parents had taught you that there were consequences in giving yourself to someone so readily. It meant that your entire being would be hurt. They taught you that it was better to retreat, so that the harm would only come as a nick, as a scratch.

If you gave yourself entirely to love, the harm would come in a stab, in a never closing wound.

You sighed.

"Or," Silas said slyly, "you're apprehensive about sharing an indirect kiss with me."

Your thoughts immediately came to a screeching halt, and your mouth opened agape.

You looked at Silas in disbelief. "Did you really just say that?"

"So you are shy about it."

"Shy —!" You felt briefly tempted to pour the tea over his head, "Silas, sleep deprivation does not look well on you. It's like you're delirious."

"I'm not, though? So it's true? You just don't want to share an indirect kiss with me?"

An indirect kiss. Not like it was anything special, for you and Silas have had multiple indirect kisses. But now, Silas had made you aware of it.

Why was he even thinking of such things? He was acting like some childish fool.

You found yourself leaning back on your chair.

Silas's face was so close to yours, and his eyes were studying you. The cup of tea was abandoned on the table, laid forgotten, and you found your breaths catching in your throat. You didn't dare to expel them, and Silas's hands tipped your chin, so as to angle it up.

You found your gaze directly meeting his. His purple eyes swirled with fiery emotion.

Your whole body was yearning, you realized. With his fingertips grazing yours and your skin kissing each other, for a moment, you understood what it was like to be desired. To be yearned for, to be loved.

You tore your gaze away and the moment was lost. You smiled at Silas, that smile intentionally unassuming (oh, the irony), and gently pushed him away. You faltered before doing that, wondering if you would regret it —

It wasn't time yet, though. You knew of his feelings towards you. You knew of your feelings towards him. You wanted to improve yourself first, and to get rid of any lingering feelings you had towards your mother and father.

You wanted to love him in a clean slate.

Silas wasn't satisfied, obviously. But he also knew better than to push.

This didn't mean that you were in denial of your feelings towards Silas, or his feelings towards you. This didn't mean that you were denying yourself his love.

This, you thought, simply meant that you were readying yourself to surrender to Silas. So many parts of you were already his. You had already laid your soul bare to him multiple times, and you would not stop doing that. You had already divulged in him all your secrets, all your idiosyncrasies and your love —

All that remained was you, as a whole. Your entire being. This was you waiting, promising that it would happen, just not now. If things went fine, if things remained sweet and lovely — you would belong to Silas, and Silas would belong to you.

It was as simple as that.

Silas changed the subject. "I can't believe we have to finish all of this. Aren't our fathers relaxing a little too much? Why are we bearing the brunt of their work? I could easily mess any of it up."

"Patience, darling prince." You told him. "Just be patient."

You both knew your words applied to a different context.

Wait for me, you were telling him, wait for me, Silas, and I promise that I will come to you. But simply have a little more patience.

"I know," Silas whispered. "I'll try."

Try. Silas often used words like try and maybe — it made it easier for him to wriggle his way out of promises and lies. He didn't use confirmation words on purpose.

Silas still bore such similar traits to the ones he had as a child.

It was awfully endearing.

You laughed then, but it was more of a giggle.

Oh, it felt wonderful. It felt wonderful to have Silas to be so obedient; so pilant to everything you said. Years ago, you had viewed that with horror, when he had stabbed himself on the balcony —

That moment was over, you told yourself. That moment was a terrible one, but it allowed us to grow. And now we are together once more.

The future was unclear, especially with the curse. Maybe there would always be unforeseen circumstances that would rip the two of you apart again. But spiritually, emotionally: you two would be with each other. Even in death, even in separation, your presence would continue to haunt one another.

What you and Silas had was much deeper than platonic and romantic love. You weren't in a hurry to define it.

"I'm jealous, Y/n." Silas said after a short pause, his eyes flickering again to yours.

You were very amused. "Of what? Of who? There's no one else here besides us."

"You said many years back that you would kiss me whenever I got jealous, didn't you?"

"So now you're exploiting my words. How did you even remember that?"

Silas didn't say anything but looked at you expectantly.

The faintest pink coloured your cheeks. You wondered if Silas noticed it — that blush.

But then again, the prince noticed everything about you.

You reached for Silas's hand, pulled him towards you, and planted a chaste kiss against his cheek.

You knew Silas could feel, rather than see, your lips curving into a soft smile.

—

When afternoon struck, you hung around in the kitchen. Silas grew distracted at times when he was around you, and so you made it a point to leave him be when he had something particularly important to tackle.

The weather was getting colder. The fireplace crackled merrily at the side, and you bit an apple as you watched the servants milling about. You had helped them to sweep the floors as well as mop it, and now you had nothing better to do than to watch them listlessly.

The apple was juicy, and you made a reminder to yourself to take another apple with you for Silas. You hummed a soft tune to yourself, content — you liked watching different people lead different lives. What was that word, again? Sonder. What a nice sounding word.

"We haven't talked to each other for long, have we?" A voice broke you out of your reverie, and you blinked.

Standing before you was a stunning female. She was all-too familiar, and she was someone that you had only caught glances of in the past month. Or was it the past few weeks? You were really losing track of time.

"Silvie," you said warmly. "And yes, we haven't. We have both been preoccupied with our duties."

Silvia was nineteen now, the same age as Silas. She was gorgeous, having grown into her pretty, delicate features. Her emerald eyes complimented her raven black hair perfectly. She was jaw droppingly beautiful — much prettier than some of the vain noblewomen you had met, actually. And that was saying a lot, for noblewomen tended to be very attractive.

"Not with His Highness?" Silvia looked genuinely curious.

"You two had six years with each other in the palace," you joked, "and the title still remains?"

"Well," Silvia said, looking rather resigned, "you know His Highness. He's not very..."

"Sociable," you supplied.

"That, yes."

"Not even a conversation?" You frowned.

Silvia thought of that one conversation that the prince and her had shared. It hadn't been unpleasant, per se, but there was certainly some hostility.

"We did have one," she admitted.

"What about?"

Silvia couldn't very well say that the conversation had been about you. She secretly, selfishly wished that somehow, those six years at home would change you. If you changed into someone more horrid, someone less radiant...someone who didn't make her heart flutter...then...

But as things were, you returned even more resplendent as before. Was it possible for someone to be so —

Silvia still loved you. She loved you for seeing the deeper, darkest parts of herself that she had wished to conceal, she loved you for understanding her. And yet she didn't know a thing about you. She wanted to know more about you, your feelings, your life, your condition. Not just as someone who had a crush on you, but as a friend.

...His Highness is right, in a way, Silvia thought, he loves Y/n in a way that I cannot ever hope to understand.

"Ah, it was so long ago," Silvia murmured, "I'm not sure."

"Hmm." You shrugged, semi unconvinced. "Well, how have you been? The Duke came here a while back and caught a glimpse of you. Now he has been spreading news of a certain pretty servant that lives in the palace. You're getting famous in high society, you know?"

"I did see some of the news," Silvia said, embarrassed. "It's simply just tabloids. It pales in comparison to the news that are about you and His Highness, though."

Ah, you thought, getting flustered, those...

"I saw the news," Silvia murmured, "of His Highness and you in the ball. You two are as close as ever. They are saying that the two of you are lovers — is that true?"

Silvia could hide her feelings remarkably well. But your sharp eyes caught the slightest tremor in her voice.

You faltered. Did Silvia really still have a crush on you?

You supposed she did. Well, this was troublesome.

"No," you said truthfully, "we aren't lovers."

Silvia looked genuinely startled. "The pictures, though — they looked so intimate," she said.

Now you were puzzled. "We didn't kiss. We didn't do anything —"

"No," Silvia interrupted, "I'm talking about the whole —" she was fumbling about now, "—The whole atmosphere of the pictures, Y/n. Everyone's buzzing about you two and your relationship. Heavens, maybe I should show you the photos."

"You have the photos?" You asked, mystified.

"It's plastered on every news source. After all, who wants to miss news on this year's hottest debutante? The Crown Prince making his debut is a big deal. The previous Emperor didn't do any of this sort."

Silvia spoke all of this as she whirled around and grabbed a loose newspaper lying on the ground. It was today's edition, meant to help soak whatever spills or messes — but sure enough, on the first page of the article — was you and Silas.

"See," Silvia said softly.

You had to draw in a sharp breath. Silvia was right. Somehow, someone managed to capture a photo of you and Silas dancing, both transfixed on each other. Looking at the photo, you got the sense that you and Silas...

...were enamoured with each other.

The look that you two had on your faces — no one could deny it. It was one of pure adoration.

"Do you see what I mean, Y/n?" Silvia smiled.

You were at a loss of words. "Yes, I do."

"His Highness is being very patient, you know."

"I know that, too," you sighed, "but I want to improve myself first. Ready myself first, in a way."

"Improve yourself first?" Silvia asked curiously.

"There are alot of things that I'm still struggling with," you said ruefully. "I need to overcome all of those issues first."

Silvia was still smiling. She was happy, you noted, and you were puzzled on why. She must have seen your confusion, for she opened her mouth to clarify.

"I'm glad to see that you're opening up to me. That you're telling me all of these things. I never got to know much about you, Y/n."

"I guess you didn't," you nodded your head.

"So? If you would allow me to pry, what are these issues that you are facing? Does His Highness know of them?"

"I try not to voice them out. I don't want it to be a burden on anyone," you scratched the back of your neck. "Silas knows of these issues tangentially. He's seen me struggle with them, but he doesn't pry too much. He knows I don't like speaking about those kinds of things."

Silvia looked disappointed. It seemed like you weren't going to confide in her, after all.

"Silvie," you said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"When you look at me, what do you see me as?"

It was an odd question that caught her off guard.

"...You're my friend," Silvia said after a while. "You are the first friend that I made in the palace. That is who you are, Y/n. That is what I see you as."

"I see..." you trailed off. "Silvie, have I ever told you about my parents?"

"You said that you were close with them," Silvia answered, "you told me that a week before you left the palace."

"I apologise for that answer. It was a lie, Silvia. I'm not close with them. Maybe my mother, yes, but I'm not close with my father at all. Besides, I'm not sure how close my mother and I are. We have survived several rocky moments."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Y/n."

"I'm not telling you this for you to pity me. You want me to tell you of the issues that I face, right? Fine. I'll tell you," you murmured, "the truth is, I'm a very sentimental person. Nostalgia kills me. I can't let go of things. And I can't let go of the illusion of having a perfect family. I know it's long been shattered, but still..."

"But still," you continued, "I have dreams of it. Do you know that my father adored me at first? Did you know that he had to carry me around, delighted with my antics? But I've never gotten to know him, as a good father. In my memories, he was always cold, distant, and angry. But he was warm, at first. And where did that warmth go?"

"It wasn't your fault," Silvia whispered.

"I know. But my biggest fear is becoming like him. I'm not gentle, I'm not warm. I'm not who you think I am, Silvia. I've been —" you swallowed, "pretending this whole time to be someone I'm not. I've been wanting to be so perfect this whole time to earn the love of others, that I've been lying. The word deception is an ugly thing, but that's essentially what I've been doing."

You wanted to find peace within yourself before you could become Silas's lover. You wanted to find the answer to a decade old question: am I who I want to be — who I chose to be, or am I who I am because of my parents? Are their wounds shaping me?

"Is that what you're afraid of, Y/n?"

You looked at Silvia.

"Are you asking me if you'll become like your parents?"

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Silvia had hit the nail on the head.

"I've never met your parents before," Silvia said slowly, "this kind of question...it's better to ask His Highness. Right now, I can only give you an answer based off what you are telling me."

You nodded your head and sighed. "You're right. Maybe I should ask His Highness."

"But —" Silvia suddenly said, "if you were like your parents, it would mean that they're generous, loving, and kind. Because that's who you are, Y/n. And if they are critical, angry, and cold people — if your father is — it would mean that you are not like them, because you aren't cold, you aren't angry...but you are critical. You are critical towards yourself."

"Critical towards myself," you echoed. "Silas tends to tell me that too."

"One that tends to be especially critical towards themselves," Silvia said, "I was like that, too. Do you remember, Y/n, that I was terribly shy when I first came to the palace?"

"Yes, I do."

"I hated being shy. Even though I didn't show it, I hated that my mother had to make you accompany me and be my friend. I knew that I was intruding on you and His Highness. I knew that I was being a burden. But still...I didn't do anything about it," Silvia murmured, "I wanted to apologise then, but I couldn't find the words to say it. But eventually — well, what I want to say is that it's possible to find the strength within you to change."

"Is that so?" You smiled.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. See — here's a heartfelt apology from me, for making you accompany me when we were little."

"Don't be sorry. I found it fun," you said.

"Did you?" Silvia wondered. "But my point is, Y/n, it is very much possible to summon up the strength to change, to do something. And in this case, maybe the person you should apologise to is yourself. You are unnecessarily harsh on yourself for no reason. You are evaluating yourself in a cold, cynical, and negative manner."

You listened to her, silent.

"I don't think you'll be like your parents. That's what I'm trying to say," Silvia said ruefully, "I'm not very good at articulating my words, but I'm glad we managed to talk. I feel like I know you more now."

I feel like my reason for loving you isn't so fickle, now that we've opened up to each other, Silvia thought.

It was clear, from the very start, that she had been fighting a losing battle. But she could make her peace with that.

"Thank you, Silvie," you murmured, "and in case you were wondering, I've never regretted meeting you. Not for one bit."

—

You ventured back into Silas's room with a nice and cold apple in your hand.

He was sleeping, with his head on the desk. Silas must have been tired out from all the bugging from the officials. You dropped the apple on his desk with a steady thunk, and went over to sit at your own desk.

You had been caught up in your feelings with Silas. The ball and the conversation with Silvia had all momentarily distracted you from what was paramount. Yes, all that fleeting moments in Silas that had been painted with the hues of romance had been pleasant, but if you can wanted a future with him — you had to figure something out first.

The generational curse.

You still needed to know of it.

You would have asked your father, but you could barely even catch a glimpse of him nowadays. You didn't want to ask Silas, for you didn't know if it would be a shaky subject. And you definitely weren't going to ask the Emperor.

You had run through names in your head, and there was only one person who had a chance of knowing.

John, you thought, he did seem to know a lot of insider information. I bet he still has ties to the old servants in the palace, and some might even know of officials...

Of course, the generational curse was only known to very few. But if you pieced bits and pieces from various old rumours, you would be able to form a clearer picture in your mind. For example, perhaps knowing the trigger to breaking the curse would be possible.

You pulled out a letter, dipped your pen in ink, and started writing. You attached a small sum of money with the letter (though you doubted John needed it; the bar did quite well) and sent the letter off. When you were done, Silas had stirred from his sleep.

"Did you sleep well, sleeping beauty?" You teased him.

"I'm surprised that you didn't sleep, Y/n."

"I hang around in the kitchen," you shrugged. "I had some apples that managed to wake me up. I brought one to you — do you want me to cut it up into rabbit slices?"

"What am I, a child?" Silas frowned. "I can eat it by myself."

Still, despite his words you went to his side and started to slice up the apple in bunny slices. Working hours could extend to late at night, and thus the study had a tiny compartment with cutlery and plates. You fed the slices to Silas, and despite his initial disdain, Silas stared at them and it seemed like he was faintly interested in the slices' shape.

"This is like the origami all over again," Silas mumbled. "You keep cutting and folding things into funny shapes. Last time it was an origami bird, right?"

"Where Elias came from," you remembered. "He's been flying off quite a number of times."

"Yes," Silas hummed, "he's been getting fat again now that you're here."

"I saw him. He's just a big mass of feathers."

"Right," Silas agreed.

Without warning, Silas pulled you to him and his head dropped on your shoulder, his arms looped around your waist. It seemed like prince was about to fall asleep again. His weight was shifted on you, and you sighed, lightly tapping his shoulder.

"Silas," you tried.

He didn't budge.

"Silas?"

"I know," Silas whispered. His voice sounded muffled against the fabric of your clothes. The back of your clothes rumpled as his hold grew tighter. "Just give me a few more seconds."

Tentatively, you reached out to softly thread through his hair. Silas relaxed in your hold.

You wondered what it would be like to kiss him softly on his head. He probably wouldn't even feel it, right?

And so you decided to press a feathery, gentle kiss on Silas's head. Silas didn't move, and you assumed that he had not felt it. You patted him on the head just like Silas had petted yours in the morning, and let out a satisfied sigh.

Basking in each other's warmth was already pleasant enough. You couldn't have asked for anything better.

I hope, you thought, I hope the trigger to break the curse isn't something impossible...

—

As you guys have guessed, this is a relatively peaceful time for allegiance rn LOL — but things will get exciting! I hope you guys are ready and buckle up! I think there's still more light-hearted chapters for u guys to enjoy (?) but soon fun things will start happening.

at the end of the chapter-ish we slowly ease into some of the other important parts of allegiance (etc the curse). we still have a little bit more to go before we move on into the super major events of the story that has been foreshadowed since day one, so hope everyone's excited!

and surprisingly John is making a cameo again. I've added some more things to the planning for allegiance, and he's going to be around for just a little bit more. (Now we await his reply about the curse!)

Things are certainly going to get complex in the future and yesterday it was a nightmare piecing everything together and making sure the flow of events aren't disrupted. There are so many key aspects to the future events and thankfully I've prewritten more than 10k words of it, so in the future I won't have too hard of a time writing it out and making sure I don't miss anything. But it's gonna be a hell of a ride lol.

well thank you for all the support so far! do add to your library so you don't miss out on updates :) see you all in the next chapter!

how was it?