Chapter 1

So, there we were. At some point, Velagh had to call for other guards to wake up the men in my bed who were wasted beyond saving. Because, without alcohol, it was hard to get them to do as they pleased. They would watch me all night long, dancing away the hours. We would sweet-talk during the dances and then they would retreat, reminded by their manners that I was a prince. They could never. But alcohol could.

Some of the men I slept with even denied being attracted to another man, but I could see the spark in their eyes, their wistful gazes. The longing to break free of their morals and duties, be it just for a night. I should have felt sorry for them, but I didn't. I enjoyed how they treated me, but I also knew this wasn't true for everyone. What did they do to their wives behind closed doors? They deserved to have their whole reality shaken.

Now, 3 of these men stood there, lined up as if someone was to rule them guilty of a crime. Fully dressed with their heads lowered in wait for their verdict. But it wasn't their verdict spoken out today, it was mine.

"I told you a hundred times," my father finally spoke after he had looked at the four of us in silence for what felt like an eternity. I kept silent.

"I will no longer tolerate your behavior. You're dragging our name into the mud. There is no corner in this city where men don't know your name. I will not be seen as the king who allowed this to go on. It pains me, but I have to send you away," he declared, and I glanced at him, my silver eyes burning with stubbornness.

"When I asked for some change, that's not what I had in mind," I huffed, my arms crossed in front of my chest loosely. Was he serious?

"When I asked you to behave, that" – my father pointed at the three men I had seduced the evening before – "was not what I had in mind, Lyron!" he shouted, his fist trembling. "You are to depart in two hours," he added, his voice much calmer than before, "get prepared."

"You can't be serious!" I voiced up, barely holding my composure. I was ready to fight for my rights within these halls. Who did he think he was? The king, yes, maybe, but he was still my father and this was still my home!

"I am," he snapped at me before he took a deep breath to turn to Velagh in a much calmer but no less serious tone, "get him ready. I trust you'll keep him safe. You'll travel to the north, visit your people, let them know you are treated well and with respect."

Velagh, as always when it came to my father, bowed in acceptance without saying a word. But I wasn't done here, "to the north? Are you insane? We'll be gone forever!" I could have agreed to a week, maybe two, somewhere else. Seeing another life, for once, or maybe rent a room in a tavern to wait it out. But traveling to the north was a whole other thing. A thing I was not ready to do!

"A year, to be exact. I will not tolerate you back sooner."

"Oh, you will see me sooner!"

"If I do, it will be the last time I see you, Lyron." The anger in his voice was suddenly replaced with something calmer, and way more dangerous: Disappointment. Real, deeply rooted disappointment. Just hearing my father's voice like that sent a shiver through my body. "If you return any short of 365 days, I will send you away forever."

"I—" I opened my mouth only to shut it right away as my father cut me off.

"No. I have spoken, Lyron. Velagh, please get him out of my sight."

It was amazing how his strong, determined voice could switch so quickly and become calmer and softer the moment he addressed Velagh. It had always been that way, from the very first day Velagh joined the royal family. Back when my mother was on her dying breath, father had sent out men to find healers from other folks, tribes, countries, realms, anything. Some declined, others had ill intentions.

Velagh was no healer, but he was the guard of a shaman from his tribe. They had traveled here because… I didn't know. No one really knew. My father's men had reached the north, asking for help in every realm they could pass through. And of all people, it was the barbarians who offered their help. But they never made it back home.

Velagh and the shaman stayed with us for two months, the latter of which had tried everything to heal my dying mother. But he couldn't, and as she had drawn her last breath, they left. Two months after their departure, Velagh returned alone, without the shaman.

He never spoke of what had happened. He had asked for a place to stay, to regain his strength before hitting the roads once more. What was meant to be a short stay of a month turned into two, then three. And then my father had offered him to stay. And so he stayed and became my personal guard. He hasn't been home for 3 years. I was sure he must have been delighted, even if he didn't show it.

There was so much more I wanted to say, but – as it was deemed as correct in front of my father – Velagh put his hand on my back, forcing me to turn around and walk with him. I had to fight the urge to turn back to face my father, but I knew better than to cause a scene. I would have plenty of time to do so later.

"Well, at least one of us gets something out of it," I snarled the moment we had left the dining hall.

"You'd think so," Velagh's voice was calm but there was a hint of something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Was he annoyed? Sad? Did some kind of homesickness finally get him, now that he knew he could finally return home?

"You're welcome," I clicked my tongue loaded with irony. He was free to go at any time, but he never did. Maybe because he took his duty too damn seriously. He should be thankful, at least now he wouldn't have to leave his duty behind.

Me. I was his duty. The duty was I. But he didn't see me as a person, as an elf no less. All I was and would ever be was royal duty. And all I ever wanted to be was his lover.

"You—" he raised his voice but fell silent right after as a maid passed us. It took him absolutely no time to get used to me, to speak his mind freely, to get loud – but only ever when it was just the two of us. After all, he had to keep a calm and stoic face among other people. "Later," he finally said in his calm voice. Oh, how much I hated this calm tone. It was so… so… controlled.

Just as the door of my room fell shut behind us, he pushed me away, made me stumble a step or two to not tip over from the sudden force. With an annoyed sigh, I turned on my heels to face him.

"You have no idea what you did, so I would much appreciate it if you could keep your mouth shut." There, I liked that tone so much more. It wasn't controlled, no, it was honest.

"Huh, shouldn't you be happy to finally get back home? You know the best part about it is that you don't even have to leave your duty behind. I'll be right next to you."

"I wish you weren't, but we can't change that, can we now."

"You know"—the way he acted I was compelled to submit an offer—"we could just rent a room somewhere and call it a day. Or 365 days."

"You wish," he snorted. "You know, suddenly, the thought of visiting my hometown became surprisingly appealing." There was something smug about the way these words rolled off his lips, and I felt my face fall.

"Why is every person in this forsaken castle fucking with me?"

"Maybe because you seduce them."

"You know exactly what I mean." Like a child throwing a tantrum, I stomped one of my feet but suddenly I regained my composure. "Besides, I don't seduce everyone. And some are awfully stubborn to seduce."

"My pleasure. Now pack your things, and remember we're heading north."

"I hate you," I snared and turned my back to him. I just ended up throwing whatever into a backpack under his observing gaze. I didn't feel like talking to him anymore, and he didn't say another word in exchange.