"Your wound is completely healed now?" Lucas asked, his eyes not lifting form the thick stack of parchment in front of him. Keir hummed from the long chair across the room of Lucas's study, his body elongated along its length as he popped dried apricots into his mouth with one hand, the other holding the pages of a book open. Lucas was busy signing wedding invitations, barely paying attention to the process as his hand efficiently signed the bottom of the papers thoughtlessly. The princes and Rose had been lounging in the study for the good part of the morning, Rose already finished signing the invitations before quickly being escorted to yet another dress fitting. Now, it was just Keir and Lucas quietly lounging in the room, the only sounds the occasional flip of the page and the monotonous scraping of quill against paper.

"How many left?" Keir suddenly asked, peering curiously over the back of the couch he was lying on, slapping the book he was reading shut as he bit on another dried apricot in boredom. 

"Too many," Lucas grumbled, Keir feeling sorry for the man's poor hand as he walked over to the prince, picking up one of the signed invitations. The royal family had spared no expense for the wedding, not even on the invitations. Lined with gold leaf and embossed with the royal seal in more gold, the gaudy invitations were almost blinding. The wedding has been set for three month's time, catching the end of Spring when the flowers would be flourishing and the weather clear. Three months too soon. 

With the wedding fast approaching, Keir had been spending more and more time with the prince, savouring the last moments he could have with the man before he let go of his feelings, hoping the gold band that will be snugly fit around his finger be enough of a deterrent to wash away whatever lingering affection he may have. 

'Until the wedding,' Keir vowed to himself, putting down the invitation before sitting on the edge of Lucas's heavy desk, the prince glancing up for a moment as Keir watching him sign more invitations. 'When you and Rose are married, I'll leave this kingdom and forget about you.' 

"Okay, I've had it with this," Lucas suddenly erupted, throwing his quill into the nearly depleted ink pot in frustrations, getting up from his chair and grabbing his coat. Keir laughed, also getting up, brow raised.

"Let's go riding," Lucas said, Keir's face falling, cheeks paling. Now a week after the festival, Keir still hadn't been down that side of the palace, though not without effort. He had often left his chambers in the night and walked down the path to the stables, yet when he saw the glimmer of candelight shining through the windows, he couldn't bring himself to step pass the threshold. He didn't know what Ahri was doing, but was too fearful of what could transpire if he saw the man again. As the days passed, Keir's fear of Ahri slandering him was lessening, though he worried that if the two had another confrontation that would change.

Bury and forget. Dust under the rug. 

"I'm not sure if I'm up for it," Keir said, giving Lucas an apologetic look. "I just..."

"Your wound is healed," Lucas replied, his hand touching Keir's side, above the wound hidden under his shirt and grey waistcoat. Keir took a hasty step backwards, coughing loudly. "It'll only be a short ride. If I'm gone for too long, these invitations will never get signed in time."

Keir didn't say anything, hesitant, causing Lucas to give the man a discreet smile. As Keir continued to stay silent, Lucas just laughed, grabbing the prince's wrist to pull him the direction of the stables. Keir found himself putting up little resistance as he stumbled along behind Lucas, not quite wanting the other prince to let go of his arm.

 As they neared the stables, a group of stablehands and servants rushed up to them, bowing politely. Keir's eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for a particular brown head, and felt some relief when he noticed that Ahri wasn't around. 

"Are you here for your horses, Your Highness?" a young servant asked, Lucas nodding, tugging on Keir's arm as he followed the servant to their horses, still nestled away in the stables. Keir prayed that Ahri wasn't hiding inside the stables, as he was often the one tending to Lucas's private collection of mounts. Lucas dropped Keir's arm as they entered the stables, walking in ahead of Keir, who slowly creeped forwards, eyes wary. As he leaned his head into the door of the stables, his heart sighed as Ahri was still nowhere to be seen. Instead, another young man was busying himself, saddling up both Lucas's horse and Persephone, who whinnied happily as she spotted Keir, nostrils flaring. 

The unfamiliar stablehand looked to be younger than both Keir and Lucas by at least a few years, his complexion that of someone who likely had just reached the age of sixteen or seventeen, just crossing the precipice into adulthood. The boy had bright red hair and fair skin, with a dark mole stamped at the corner of his green eyes. He was a head shorter than Keir, and his boyish, youthful features were alight with merriment as he buckled the saddles, giving the horses pats of encouragement as he worked. Keir couldn't help but compare him to Ahri, who was the embodiment of mature sexual energy and seduction, whilst the boy was a picture of soft innocence. 

"Keir, come here," Lucas ushered, laughing as he saw Keir lurking around the entrance to the stables. As Keir waltzed in, back straightening and shoulders easing their tension as he realised Ahri wasn't around, Keir moved to stand by Lucas's side, Persephone reaching her head out of her bay to nuzzle his chest. Keir grinned as he kissed her muzzle, Persephone whining petulantly as she reprimanded him for his absence.

"I know, I know," Keir chuckled, stroking her long mane tenderly. "I missed you too." Keir heard Lucas sigh heavily behind him, turning to see the man shaking his head with feigned disappointment. 

"Please stop seducing my poor horses, you'll corrupt their innocence," Lucas teased, Keir rolling his eyes as Persephone bumped her head into his chest again. 

"It can't be helped that they fall for my overflowing charm," Keir said, shrugging his shoulders grandly, Lucas rolling his eyes as he couldn't help the grin that crossed his lips. 

"Your Highness, if I may be so bold to comment," the red-headed stablehand piped up, voice bright as he bowed. Keir gestured with his hand, allowing the boy to continue. Green eyes met Keir's as the stablehand smiled broadly, eyes crinkling innocently. "Maintaining a good bond with one's horse is extremely important. That Prince Keir can do so with such ease, especially with Persephone's usual temperament, I am in awe." Keir and Lucas both laughed as the boy bowed again, Persephone seeming to grunt with offence as the sensed the boy's mild commentary on her character. 

"Though I don't think I have done anything that warrants your awe, I thank you for the compliment," Keir said, the boy smiling brightly at the prince's words. "May I ask your name?"

"Of course, Your Highness," the boy chirped, eyes lighting up. "Finnian, Your Highness! My name is Finnian!"

"A pleasure to meet you," Keir smiled, extending his hand, the boy staring at it in astonishment, hesitating to grasp it. Keir smiled softly at the boy's honest demeanour, extending his hand further to grasp the boy's hand himself, shaking it firmly. Letting go, Keir studied the boy again, not recognising him from any of his previous stable visits over the last two months. 

"Are you new here, Finnian?" Keir asked, the boy nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes! I just started working here at the castle only a few days ago! Even though I have just started, I have plenty of experience with horses! We had many on my family's farm, though none as impressive as Prince Lucas's here," the boy reported, Keir smiling at the boy's unbridled enthusiasm. 

"We were lucky to be able to find a new stablehand so quickly after one of them suddenly resigned," Lucas said, his voice careful as he watched Keir to gauge his reaction. Keir didn't react straight away, but as he processed Lucas's words, he turned to the prince with wide eyes. 

"Resigned?" Keir asked, voice quiet. Ahri not being here, a new stablehand tending to the horses that he was in charge of, Keir's cold rejection of his feelings. Lucas could see the thoughts running through Keir's mind as his mouth opened, wanting to confirm that what he thought was true. "Ahri?" Keir breathed. Lucas nodded, his hands itching to hold Keir's body as it trembled slightly, before exhaling heavily and forcing his lips into an indifferent smile. Turning back to Finnian, Keir ruffled the boy's hair playfully.

"Thanks for getting our horses ready," Keir said, voice not betraying anything that he was feeling inside. Finnian blushed as he bowed gratefully, passing Keir the reigns strapped to Persephone's neck after the prince effortlessly climbed onto her back. 

Keir rode hard and fast, the whistling of the wind in his ears not loud enough to smother the screaming in his mind. Lucas followed closely behind Keir, guilty about the mixed feelings rippling at the bottom of his gut. 

'I'm glad he's gone,' Lucas thought, his selfishness paining him as he watched Keir's back sadly. 'Even if I can't have you, I still want you to be mine.'

~~~

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Show me the fairest man of them all."

The mirror's face rippled, like mercury dancing on waves, as the hazy image reflecting on its surface focused. A shadow smiled, dark lips parting in a wicked arch as a pink tongue flicked across painted buds. As the image of two princes dashed across the mirror's face, a smooth hand rising as long fingers circled the air, the mirror's image changing. The face of a dark-haired prince filled the mirror's surface, the shadow laughing as it spied the intoxicating torment in its eyes.

Cloaked in a dark robe, which dissipated into smoky tendrils as it hit the ground, the Queen leaned back in her throne as the mirror followed the prince's face, her red eyes unwavering as it took in those beautiful features that had ripened so well. 

"He has grown even more delectable with age," the Queen sighed, as a black snake slithered around her neck, cold scales smooth against her ageless flesh. Tongue flickering, the snake coiled around the Queen's torso, thick body sliding between her full breasts as the woman continued to stare at the mirror, her eyes removing the prince's shirt as she pictured his defined chest and milky skin trembling, his red lips slick with tears as they travelled down his sculpted face. The black viper slid between her legs, parting with the touch. The Queen moaned as the snake slithered along her wetness, her hands waving in front of her, the mirror's face rippling silver before hardening into normal glass. The Queen's face, a scarily beautiful reflection in the mirror, contorted in arousal as she gripped the arms of her throne. 

Cold winds blew through her empty ballroom, the only thing rippling in the breeze being a long, blue ribbon that smelled like her raven-haired prince. 

'Skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, hair the darkest ebony. They are all mine.'