Page 22 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

Nia had proposed that Favian bring up the topic of Leonardo’s father on the next trip to The Moonlit Sunflower.

It seemed like the best option: nobody knew who the prince really was, Favian was surrounded by people who supported his general position on the royals, and at the inn, they spoke as honestly as they could.

Going to the tavern would, however, require Favian to leave Nia by herself again.

And it was out of the question that, for as long as they shared it, he would spend another night anywhere but in their room.

This also meant that he would still not be able to visit his mother.

The weaving mill and the adjoining hut were technically within the palace grounds, but a trip to the southern outskirts of the premises was still time-consuming and rarely feasible during a regular week, which was the entire reason Nia and Favian usually visited their mother at night, if at all.

But it wasn’t only nighttime that scared him.

Surely enough, King Amondo had most frequently called for Favian at night, but there had been enough instances during the daylight for Favian to know that His Majesty’s desires were not limited to the dark.

Which meant that every waking hour he did not have to spend working, Favian was wherever Nia was.

It became harder and harder for Favian to play nice with Leonardo, the pressure inside him at risk of bursting each time the prince visited him at the stable.

If Leonardo noticed this tension, he did not mention it.

Perhaps after the conversation they had shared, he was too scared to say something wrong, that Favian would push him away again.

The air was already awkward enough between them, the things they had admitted hanging between them like overripe plums.

On the third day since their night in the forest, Leonardo asked him about their next visit.

“Do you think we can go to The Moonlit Sunflower tomorrow?” he inquired while Favian saddled Azure.

“I would rather not visit the tavern for the time being,” Favian replied, his eyes averted, his tone serious.

The prince stopped playing around with the hay he had been inspecting and studied Favian. “Because of what happened last time?”

“I would rather not discuss the issue here.” While they were usually alone at the stables, with Rodrigo making himself rare whenever Leonardo approached, there was always a chance that one of the visitors would come by for their horse or that Favian would be called away for a task somewhere else.

Leonardo wasn’t the only member of his family who liked to go on rides, and with the current situation at the palace, it was never impossible that another task would materialize, one that required Favian’s presence at the other end of the palace grounds.

For once, the prince did not try to persuade him. “I can request that dinner my be served in my chambers tonight and that you bring it to me.”

Favian contemplated the offer. They were still in the middle of summer, darkness not properly seeping in until at least an hour past dinner.

At mealtime, His Majesty would be occupied, Silias could serve him instead, and Nia would be washing dishes in the kitchens.

Favian just had to find his sister again before dinner was over, ensuring that her path after the meal did not cross the king’s while she was alone.

“Alright.”

Leonardo seemed surprised, but he took in Favian’s compliance without comment. “I will see you for dinner, then,” the prince said as Favian handed him Azure’s reins. He then disappeared into the glistening sun, rays surrounding his head like petals of a sunflower.

When he arrived at the kitchen, Favian was unsurprised to be handed a tray of food. The figs and goat cheese were so unlike Favian’s mundane oat-based meals that the smell alone made his mouth water. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

It had been weeks since he had made his way to the prince’s chambers, the eastern wing usually off-limits for him. Unless he was specifically tasked with an extraordinary duty, his place was either at the stable or at the dining hall.

Leonardo opened the door after the first knock, Favian’s fist still raised against the wood. “Come in.”

Favian took a slight bow and stepped inside the bedroom.

The prince shut the door behind them and took the tray from Favian’s hands, placing it on a small table next to the enormous bed.

It was at least three times the size of Favian’s, equipped with a mountain of pillows and blankets so large he could sparsely imagine what peaceful dreams might be had underneath them.

“So, why don’t you want to go to the tavern anymore?”

Favian could tell Leonardo was trying to appear unruffled, but the attempt to mask his impatience was futile. The prince was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for Favian to respond.

He had thought this through, laid out what he wanted to say, considered numerous paths this conversation could take. “Your Highness, I need to talk to you.”

“What is it? Have you changed your mind?”

On any other day, Leonardo’s directness would have unsettled him, but today, it was welcome.

Biting his lip, Favian sought Leonardo’s eyes. “In a way.”

Leonardo paused. Favian had not initiated eye contact anywhere close to the palace grounds since Leonardo’s return; even on their trips to the inn, he would wait for the prince to emerge from the forest in clothes that were not his before daring to look directly at him.

Now, seemingly struck by the shift in their dynamic, Leonardo appeared unsettled, but Favian had his attention.

The prince was taking this conversation seriously; despite his eagerness, he was listening.

He waited for Favian to continue, not touching his food.

“Your Highness said that he doesn’t care about the position he’s in. That being the prince is of no importance to him. Is that true?”

“I. . .I think so,” Leonardo replied.

Why did you hesitate?

“When I was at the front, people treated me differently than they do here. Not right away—I was the prince coming to join them, after all. But fighting like that, it changes the way you interact with each other. You save each other’s asses, regardless of position.

Because it’s life or death. After the first couple of years, it felt like I was one of them, truly. ”

“And here?” Favian challenged.

He thought back to the prince’s tales about the enjoyment of Abijatan cuisine, about the discrepancy between his fascination for the culture and his directive to destroy it.

It was a conversation Favian knew they needed to have one day, but it couldn’t be this day.

His mind could only hold so much tension at once.

Leonardo’s thick eyebrows drew close together. “What do you mean?”

“Does Your Highness feel like he is one of us ?” He hadn’t intended for the words to sound mocking, but there was no denying that they did.

Taken aback, Leonardo sat down on his bed, resting his elbows on his thighs. He sighed, striking Favian as more bewildered than angry. “Where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

Favian took a deep breath. “While we were gone that night, His Majesty hurt my sibling.”

“Nico?” Nia. “Hurt him how?” Her.

Nia had not given him any direction on what to do with the information about her experience, and Favian had not been able to bring himself to ask her about it.

He would not share information that was not his to share, though it pained him that Leonardo would still not learn of the true extent of his father’s cruelty.

“I cannot say.”

He had other things to share that would hopefully have a similar effect.

“Then how is that different from any other day?”

Immediately, the prince covered his mouth, his eyes going wide.

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s always bad, that’s not what I meant.

I know my father is not a nice man, I know he treats you badly every single day.

” He paused, took a breath. Then he continued, “What I meant is: if you can’t tell me what happened to bring you here, you have to find another way to make me understand what has changed. ”

“Maybe I have,” Favian replied.

That piqued Leonardo’s curiosity. He rested his chin on his hands and looked up at the servant in the middle of his chamber. “Changed how?”

“I have been thinking a lot. About this place, about His Majesty, about—” Now it was Favian’s turn to hesitate. He took a step to the side, glancing outside the window overlooking the courtyard bathed in a muted sunset. “Us.”

“Us,” Leonardo echoed.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

“If Your Highness is serious about the things he’s told me—” Favian turned back and stared straight into what he hoped to be the prince’s soul.

“If you really want your servants to live a good life, if you genuinely don’t care about your role as the prince, then I believe it’s time for you to change things around the palace. ”

The room was quiet between them, except for Leonardo’s sharp intake of breath. Favian had figured that the prince would need some time to process his words, to come to terms with Favian’s directness. Neither of them was used to it.

Breaking eye contact to give Leonardo time to think, Favian studied the place he found himself in.

Leonardo’s bed was framed by a dark green canopy, the fabric tickling the corners of the mattress.

Next to each side of the bed, a wooden nightstand.

One of them held a stack of books, the titles of which Favian was unable to read, the other a pitcher of water and a pair of glasses. Since when did Leonardo need glasses?