"Please," Presley begged, on his hands and knees in order to convey his desperation, "If you could just go downstairs...Well, don't you think it would be fun?"

It was the coral-haired man's firm belief that, if the orange-haired male could just have some fun, he could get a little better. They said that happiness did wonders to one's health, and, when all kinds of medicine had failed, what harm was there? Mica had told him of the gathering that was to take place that evening, urging him to try his hand at encouraging the boy to attend. And though the man had been trying to convince the boy to go, he hadn't even received a look from him. He shook with pain.

"You could just go for a moment. Just to pick out a jewel. Wouldn't that be nice? You could choose one to - "

The man paused, remembering the threat of death looming over the younger male. He had two months. There was no chance of him being married. No one wanted to surrender themselves to that fate. Even if it had been countless generations since the last time it had happened, no one wanted to risk being killed the moment their royal spouse died. The same could have been said of Presley, the man just as fearful of his own fate when the orange-haired male finally died. It was in his best interest to make sure the boy lived, even for just a day more out of hope.

But the boy had no hope. He hadn't had any for a while. Even if he would smile genially at anyone he passed, he would still feel the mark of death engrained on his flesh. There was no changing that. He would die, and that fact had never left him since the day he had first been told. How young was he again? The first time itself must have been when he was still an infant, but he couldn't remember how old he was when he first understood what it meant.

"Please, your highness," the knight begged, "I only ask for five minutes."

It was not out of the desire to be seen by his subjects. The boy only stood up out of bed and got dressed to appease one out of the two people who had always shown him unconditional love. He felt weak and dizzy, wobbling on his own feet as he tried to walk, even when being supported by Presley. Still, he put up with the pain. Although, even after years of hurt and suffering, the pain didn't numb or become so commonplace that he couldn't feel it anymore. If he had to say, it had just gotten worse year after year.

"You're doing great."

The boy's knight spared no effort trying to make him feel special. He complimented him over and over again as they walked, trying to encourage him to keep going. It was exhausting, but he felt the sincere affection in the man's words, so he tried to live up to his expectations. Presley might have been the only one that ever had expectations for him. Everyone else just gave him looks of sympathy before muttering how tragic he was.

It had been a while since the orange-haired male had walked so far, and even longer since he had worn anything aside from pajamas. Yet, despite that, he had made it, peeking around the corner of the top balcony to see the party. He didn't know what party it was until his great-uncle started to address the crowd. The prince loved his great-uncle, so his heart dropped when he said he had three great-nephews.

That on its own probably wouldn't have hurt so much, but then the man introduced Celith Viro. The prince paused, beginning to shake but not out of physical hurt or illness. He watched as the boy was pushed forward in front of everyone. They began to compliment him and shower him with adoration. It was a completely different feeling, he thought. And when the mention of his father was brought up, once more did the boy get his hopes up, and once more was he left utterly disappointed.

"Incredible," Presley shimmered, looking at the strained royal with excitement, "A new Oracle! Your father has officially named him the new Oracle! Isn't it incredible, your highness?"

No.

"To think we'll have a new generation to lead us! And Celith is such an upstanding child! He has even more divine power than Sir Cadmus!"

The male's face fell. He couldn't smile anymore. It just hurt when he had to tug the corner of his lips up all the time just to stop his frown from breaking other people's hearts. So he chose to stop smiling, letting Presley and everyone else go on and on about Celith Viro. It certainly wouldn't be a first. Either way, he kept gazing down at the ground floor, watching as the white-haired boy got to participate in something he never could. After all, what would be the point of giving a corpse a gem?

"Your highness?" Presley panicked, moving to support the prince further, "Are you feeling faint?"

The younger male didn't respond but the answer was obviously yes. He tried to gather the strength to keep going, taking a moment to take in numerous deep breaths. Though it didn't do anything but make his heart race out of fear, it was necessary. When he was finally ready to make an entrance, the male tapped the royal knight on the shoulder. He watched the coral-haired man tense up and move to usher the other knights protecting him, all of them scattering around to ensure he was given absolute attention. The doctors were there, too, just in case he ended up having a seizure.

Before long, the announcer began to gather everyone's eyes, her loud voice booming over the crowd. Everyone snapped their heads over to the staircase, the orange-haired male trembling. He felt Presley's hands grip a little tighter on him. And when he had stepped into view of everyone, the nobles, and like, beginning to applaud and cheer, he felt him do it again. It was almost like he was just as nervous as he was.

"Introducing his royal highness, firstborn of Princess Meridian, fourth grandson of Queen Ambrosia, only child of Sir Cadmus de Oshaka..."

The prince waited and waited for the introduction to finish, but it seemed there was no end in sight. It only served to heighten his nerves, the male's eyes shaking at the thought of being in the middle of a crowd. He must have been visibly shaking because Presley, once again, squeezed tightly onto him. As the male met his gaze, he recognized an expression of begging, but he didn't know what the man was begging for. It wasn't like he had any power to begin with aside from his name.

" - and the rightful heir to the throne of Vethela."

The applause amplified, everyone gazing up in different shapes and sizes of pity. The boy tried to ignore it as he walked down the stairs with the help of his knight. However, there was no ignoring something like that. It was like they were thinking to themselves that, as long as they cheered and gave him attention, he would forget that he was going to die. But something like that only lingered over him, like Damacles' sword, ready to be cut down and end whatever pathetic life he had "lived". He bit down on his lip.

When he reached the bottom stair, he felt no energy inside of him. It had all been drained out of him, the male panting and hurting all the same. He gripped at his chest, inhaling quickly but shallowly, feeling as though there was no fresh air in his vicinity. Normally, he would just leave to get a breath of fresh air outside, but he was too far from a window for an immediate solution. However, oddly enough, it seemed like the fresh air came to him.

The male gazed up at the only person who had approached him to help. The other nobles were too worried. Perhaps they thought that simply touching him would impart his deadly illness on their forms as well. Either way, that was how it had always been. Only Presley and his doctors would ever approach him like that. So seeing an unfamiliar face made him perk up, confused. Though, based on her attire alone, she was a foreigner, so, clearly, it was easier for her to treat him differently.

Suddenly, something clicked for him. It was incorrect to say that he had fallen in love at first sight. Even before he had looked up, his heart began beating uncontrollably. Still, her (h/c) locks and striking eyes captured him further, the male unable to even move. If he did, he feared she would disappear from his sight, so he kept eyes fervently on her form, cheeks pink. He didn't even look down at the flower on his chest that had begun to twitch.

It was beyond biological and it far surpassed that of mental intrigue. On an instinctual level, he knew that the girl in front of him was special. He couldn't say why nor could he convey that to her. The male could only remain frozen, lip trembling as he looked at her. For some reason, he just knew that they were different from everyone else, and that made his heart beat faster than he could have ever expected. Was this what love felt like? He tensed, eager to find out.

The prince didn't want to make a mistake. He didn't want to say something wrong and end up scaring her away, so he observed his surroundings. She had come running to him out of a similar sort of instinct, appearing as though she regretted revealing herself. Of course, he was happy she did come forward, but it confused him at the same time. If it was the same instinct he felt, she should've been pulled to him. After all, the only thing he wanted to do was hug her. Did she not feel the same? Or, perhaps, she was actively resisting it. But, why?

Trying to find the answer to the question, the male observed further. She was very beautiful, but he had to look past that to what she was wearing. It was a dress that suited her; although, it was an expensive piece of clothing for certain. Just the fabric alone was high-end. That meant that she must have been a noble. It would make sense. He didn't get to see nobles very often, but, if she was Vethelan, he would have heard of someone as lovely as her. Wouldn't he have?

That was when an individual he had seen stepped in front of the beautiful young woman. Haru Akahito was a close friend of one of his cousins, and besides that, he was about all the news could talk about those days. So, of course, the prince recognized him, but he tried to tilt his head to look past him. Just taking his eyes off of the (h/c) haired girl pained him physically, the male doing whatever he could just to look at her.

"Step away from his royal highness," Presley growled, another person stepping in between the prince and the girl, "or you shall be removed from the premises."

"Then tell him to stop staring like an idiot," Haru argued, narrowing his eyes at both of the obstacles.

The orange-haired boy thought about how he could possibly turn away from such a beauty. It did occur to him that she was romantically involved with the brunette in front of him, but...In any case, he watched as both the girl and his great-uncle came to calm everyone down. And, despite her clear reservations, she went on to help him up, extending her hand to his. For a moment, he held his breath, wondering if he was physically capable of touching her. For all he knew, she could just disappear the moment they touched. He frowned, tears welling up in his eyes, but as he touched her, he felt something entirely different.

She was so soft. It wasn't just the kind of soft that other humans had. That was what he thought, though, of course, he couldn't really remember the last time he had touched a person. As she helped him up, the orange-haired male "accidentally" tripped into her arms. He reveled in the warmth of her form, and of her immediate protective instincts. Before she was even able to think of the consequences, she tried to support him, attempting to get him back on his feet. She was very sweet, too, it seemed. He narrowed his eyes, trembling in the sudden onset of affection for the mysterious girl.

"Your highness!" Presley panicked again, quick to take the boy into his arms instead, "Are you feeling faint? Doctors!"

"W-Wait," the boy blushed, eyes on her and only her, "I'll be alright. I just...tripped. Thank you for catching me, Miss...?"

(Y/n) flinched, knowing what he was after. He wanted her name, but that was easier said than done. The boy glimmered as he waited and the knight holding him glowered, clearly distrusting of her already. In the end, she couldn't remain silent or run away, everyone's eyes on them. It probably struck most of them as odd that a foreigner would boldly approach their crown prince, especially when there was an unspoken rule about maintaining distance from him. Either way, she was forced to give a name.

"Shiratori," she asserted, feeling Haru grip onto her shoulder tightly not long after.

"Miss Shiratori?" the younger boy glimmered, holding his hands shyly in front of his mouth as he repeated the name in his head over and over again, "Um, my name...too. It's Orion Trewin, so...if you could remember it...I would be grateful. But - "

"Your highness," Presley interjected, panicking at the boy's lack of strength, "we should get you back upstairs immediately! I didn't realize it would take that much out of you!"

"Wait, I wanted to - "

"I think that's best," Mica chimed in, giving a somber look to the boy, "And make sure he gets something to eat. He's been struggling with that lately."

"But, uncle, please - "

"I'll do that now, your majesty. Come this way, your highness. We'll try again next time, so for now, you have to rest."

"Why isn't anyone listening to me? I want to - "

Orion was whisked away about as fast as he had come, his knights listening to Presley and his great uncle trying to still his heart. Either way, even as he tried urging for someone to hear what he had to say, it fell on deaf ears. The (h/c) haired girl bit down on her lip, almost to the point of bleeding. It was only because of Haru that she had stopped, the brunette kissing her possessively, very distaken with her interaction with another, not that it meant much. There was no way she could fall in love with someone at first sight. In the first place, she wasn't someone that could harbor that emotion so easily.

If anything, it was more akin to seeing herself. He might have been a prince, but, what was the use of that title if he was just going to be ignored? The same went for her situation, but she supposed she was more or less free of it now. Either way, it was a selfish desire to help him; one that stemmed from her own experiences rather than because of the clear heartache he seemed to carry on his shoulders. Still, what had been done was done, and she now faced the consequences. Haru, unable to take another moment in the stupid party, turned to Mica with a livid look in his eye. He couldn't have cared less for his title either.

"Keep that bastard away from my (Y/n) or I'll make him wish he died along with his grandmother."

With that, the brunette received a dark look from the man, a line split down the middle that prevented anyone from seeing reason. Haru then grabbed onto the younger girl's wrist and tugged her more and more outside of the party, refusing to let others gawk at her. And should another person actually touch her, he was fully planning on eradicating the entire nation, whether or not his father approved of it. After all, what was his was his and there was no arguing about that, royal or not.

"Haru, wait!" the girl winced, watching as the brunette suddenly staggered at the call of his name and lost strength, "That hurt."

He tensed at the knowledge as if suddenly realizing that yanking her in a direction she did not want to go would result in bodily harm. Trying to fix it as quickly as possible, he tried to caress her wrist, placing a kiss on it. After all, that was what his mother had always done for him as a child. It made the pain go away. However, (Y/n) was not a child, and the pain was not a simple bruise. It persisted on her wrist, visible on her skin like a bondage marking her to him.

"I'm...sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! You hear me, right? I'm sorry and it's better now, so - "

"It's not better. It still hurts."

Haru panicked. He started trying to kiss it better again, begging and begging for her to just forgive him for the stupid mistake he made. And though she was very proud of him for thinking of her feelings, if she let him off the hook he wouldn't learn any further. As such, she had to put her foot down to really drive the message into his head. Of course, him shivering like a kicked child didn't make it any easier for her.

"Do you remember the two things I asked for in our contract?"

"Yes," he mumbled, squeezing onto her hand for support as his eyes darted away.

"Would you mind repeating them?"

"I can't put tech on you unless you say it's okay."

"And?"

"I have to protect you from harm or kidnapping."

"You mean abducting. I'm not a kid."

"...Kidnapping."

Even when he was being scolded and had the threat of her leaving hanging over him, Haru was still Haru. That was something she adored about him, so it made her melt a bit. He would say whatever he wanted, honest to a fault, and true to his own convictions. Even if Bastian said the sky was green out of playfulness, he would shoot it down and say that he knew it to be blue and that he was wrong. It didn't matter how close you were to him. What you saw was what you got, honest as always. It was rare to find someone like that, and, for her, even rarer.

"Sure, kidnapping."

Haru smiled a bit, but it didn't mask his fear. Even the temporary relief that she agreed with him on the term faded away as she remained mad. He really didn't like it when she was angry, because when she was angry, she left, and when she left, he was alone, and when he was alone...Things just got worse after that, a never-ending spiral he would have preferred not to undertake.

"What did you just do?"

"I...hurt you, but - " the male blurted out, trying to speak rapidly to avoid hearing her voice get mad.

"I don't like being hurt, Haru."

"...I know."

The girl thought about what kind of punishment would be fitting. He clearly understood he deserved one, shivering out of fear that she would sleep in a hotel instead. Of course, that was against her best interests. Haru was still the best source of protection. That was why it was important she could rely on the brunette not hurting her. Any other harm would follow suit, meaning that she would finally be safe. Humming, she observed him, still trying to pick apart his wants to make an effective warning.

"I'll move rooms."

Immediately, the brunette flinched, about to cry. However, to her surprise, he showed remarkable restraint. He didn't argue against it nor did he try to claim it wasn't fair or that it wasn't his fault. She smiled a little behind her hand, proud of what he had learned. Then she watched as he began to scribble down a reminder not to hurt her on his wrist tablet. Somberly, he accepted the punishment, hanging his head.

She did note that he moved towards her a bit, extending his hand. Even if she was the one to make him sad (he knew that), he still relied on her for help with emotions. Still, he jolted back, his eyes going to his tablet before he clicked a timer. Impatiently, he waited five seconds before moving to hold onto her hand. Though he had forgotten to ask, he did wait, and with his restraint, she felt like letting him get away with it. Petting his head, she muttered a word of appreciation, the brunette leaning his head on her shoulder.

"Good?" he asked gently, unable to look her in the eyes.

"Yes."

"...Okay."

With that, they left for the embassy where the younger girl proceeded to move to the opposite side of the building. Though the brunette wasn't happy about it, he tried to accept it, standing idly by with a pout as he kicked at the ground. Sona recommended helping her move, saying it might make her happier with him, but he couldn't do it. He didn't want to encourage her to put distance between them.

There was also the fact that Haru just couldn't come to accept that another person had touched her. He wanted to grab her and scrub off all of the filth she'd incurred from the momentary interaction. More than that, he wanted to cut off the orange-haired male's hands for doing such a thing. However, he could do neither, and for Haru Akahito, it was a first. It was an unpleasant first. And it would only get worse.