Page 4 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

The prince took another step back, bringing some distance between them.

Leonardo looked confused, lost, like Favian’s reaction to his return was not what he had expected.

It probably wasn’t. What was the proper way to react to the prince, whose lips were familiar on Favian’s skin, asking for forgiveness once he returned after five long years in a war he had never wanted to fight?

There was no precedent for this.

Still, Favian appreciated that Leonardo appeared to be trying.

There were many ways this reunion could have gone—Favian’s mind had imagined them all during his restless night—and while this interaction was perhaps not the dream scenario Nico had repeatedly painted for him, Favian supposed his brother would be happy about this turn of events regardless.

Leonardo had actively come to greet him, after all. That counted for something.

Didn’t it?

Now, the prince looked lost. So full of determination when he had arrived, Favian’s desperate attempt to keep up whatever distance had manifested between them seemed to have disrupted Leonardo’s confidence. “I guess I’ll go greet my parents,” he eventually said.

Favian’s brows furrowed despite his better judgment. Leonardo had not seen the majesties yet?

“Can you. . .” Leonardo gestured to Azure. Favian had not realized the mare had been by Leonardo’s side the entire time. So the stables had, indeed, been the prince’s first destination upon his return.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Leonardo handed him the leash connected to Azure’s bridle, then paused. “Is Lord Casella still staying here? I should probably greet him, too.”

“Lord Casella only visits the palace when his presence is requested,” Favian truthfully replied.

He had as good as forgotten the man—he had been on the advisory council, and he had used to train the prince with swords and the newly emerging rifles shortly after his manor had been taken over by Livenza, now constituting the kingdom’s western boundary.

Favian couldn’t even remember which kingdom the manor had originally belonged to; in his mind, it had always been a part of Livenza.

Now that the council convened so rarely anymore, the lord no longer lived at the palace, presumably having returned to his manor.

“Oh, alright. Thank you.” One expression after another passed Leonardo’s face in quick succession, none of them decipherable. “I guess I will see you at lunch.”

For a second, Favian thought the prince was about to move closer to him again, but after a moment of hesitation, Leonardo gave him an awkward wave instead. Then he left, heading towards the palace.

For a length of time he would later be unable to recall, Favian only stood.

It was Azure’s soft neigh that brought him out of his stupor and reminded him that there was work to be done.

He unsaddled the mare, gave her a quick groom, and led her into her old enclosure before finishing the daunting task of shoveling manure out of the remaining pens, then bringing the excrement outside.

Favian almost missed the midday meal—only when Nico came calling for him, blissfully unaware of the events that had transpired a mere couple of hours before, did he put down the shovel and make his way to the dining hall with his brother by his side.

If Nico picked up on Favian’s utter disorientation—and Favian would have bet on his brother’s well-being that he did—he did not comment on it, instead rambling about the various rumors that had already spread about the prince’s arrival.

His brother waited by the washroom as Favian quickly cleaned himself of the stable muck, glad to rid himself of the day’s stench. Even after the moment of respite, just as they were about to enter the kitchen, Favian slowed down. Took a deep breath. Closed his eyes.

Nico softly touched his arm, careful not to provoke one of Favian’s sensitive reactions to touch. “What is it?” he asked concernedly, not used to his brother hesitating before a duty, particularly one this habitual. “Did you see Leonardo already?”

Ever observant.

In moments like these, Favian was grateful for Nico’s directness. While he did not want to talk about his interaction with Leonardo, he felt like he was about to burst if he didn’t.

“His Highness came to the stables earlier,” Favian said quietly.

Nico paused for a second, then his grip on Favian’s arm tightened. His eyes went wide. “I knew it,” he smirked. “What did he say?”

Favian shrugged. He contemplated how much he wanted to reveal to Nico. “His Highness is happy to have returned.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

Of course, that wasn’t it, and they both knew it.

Aggressively staring at the wall behind his brother, Favian slowly recounted Leonardo’s words, cringing as he repeated the prince’s sentiments about himself. Nico looked like he was going to explode, almost jumping up and down in the corridor.

“He is absolutely still in love with you!”

Favian drew his arm out of Nico’s grip. “Let’s get to work,” he diverted, and softly shoved past Nico to open the kitchen door, leaving his brother no choice but to drop the topic.

Luckily, everybody else was already busy in the kitchen, and despite Nico’s endless curiosity, Favian had never worried that his brother would disclose anything he told him in confidence.

Far too in tune with the needs of the people around him, Nico would never risk hurting Favian in such a way.

The kitchens were even busier than Favian could have anticipated.

For a start, the majesties had requested larger banquets now that their son would once more be present at each meal, disregarding the amount of leftovers that unsatiated servants were already forced to feed to the dogs every single day.

On top of one more cook, an additional servant was obligatory to serve the third royal at the table.

Aside from those required to be in or around the kitchens, the staff’s curiosity had them all eager to work in the dining hall’s periphery as long as their work allowed it.

Altogether, the noise level rivaled that of the previous year’s winter ball.

But when the table was set, it was only the king and queen who entered the hall.

They took their usual seats, the third opposite Her Majesty remaining empty.

The boy tasked with serving the prince shifted, only slightly, but still noticeably.

Favian sent him a silent plea to remain still and prayed that the king had not noticed the transgression.

His prayer remained unanswered.

His Majesty’s gaze snapped to the servant. He was rather new to the palace, likely not yet fully aware of its unspoken rules and the vigorous upholding of them. His name was Rodrigo; he could not have been older than Nico. “Is there a problem?” the king asked Rodrigo.

Please , be smart .

Rodrigo hesitated, but his eyes remained on the floor. “No, Your Majesty,” he replied more confidently than Favian felt watching the exchange.

“I assume your imbecile disturbance is a result of my son’s absence. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I am in good spirits, so I will be lenient this once.” The king raised his knife, pointing it toward Rodrigo.

“Our son is tired from his journey and has decided to remain in his quarters for lunch. He will join us for dinner, at which point your incompetent ass will stay out of sight in the kitchen.” He turned to Favian.

“Find a less inept replacement until then.”

Favian gave a curt nod in acknowledgment. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

When they went to grab dessert from the kitchen, the servants were overwhelmed with questions.

They only managed to acknowledge the missing prince before Favian and Lelia returned to the hall, their peers excitedly waiting for the meal to be finished so they could continue probing.

Favian, however, excused himself as soon as he could.

He was to be back at the stables in half an hour and desperately needed a moment to think by himself before returning to work.

Nico gave him a wary smile and promised not to interrupt his break.

On the way to their room, Favian’s mind began racing. He had managed to suppress the onslaught of thoughts and feelings the king’s statement had unleashed, but now they came crashing into him. Closing the door to his chamber behind him, Favian slid down to the floor and exhaled slowly.

Why had Leonardo not come?

His Majesty had said that he was tired from the ride, but when he had come to great Favian, the prince had appeared wide-awake.

Favian considered the degree to which their interaction may have impacted Leonardo, may have influenced his choice to remain in his quarters.

Favian could not bear the responsibility of causing Leonardo discomfort, and in their first interaction in five years at that.

He buried his face in his hands, pressing the heels to his eyes.

A knock at the door.

“Favian?” came Nico’s voice.

A quiet groan escaped Favian’s lips.

“I know I promised to leave you alone, but His Majesty wants a serving delivered directly to Leonardo’s chambers. He specifically requests that you do it.”

His head shot back up, hitting the wooden door.

Favian scrambled to his feet without acknowledging the injury, wrenched the door open, and rushed back to the kitchen without so much as replying.

He would have to remind Nico not to refer to Leonardo so casually anymore.

It was one thing when they were alone, or maybe in the tavern by the cliff, but out in the hall, it was a risk not worth taking.

He filed that thought away for later as he hurried to pick up the tray already prepared for the prince, and made his way down a route he remembered all too precisely, the palace walls lined with portraits of the rulers who had shaped Livenza into the kingdom the prince had returned to.

Still eyes watching him as he passed through the northern wing, past the throne room, to the right, and into the eastern branch.

This was most certainly a test. His Majesty had asked him specifically to deliver this meal so he could unsettle Favian, reminding him of past events and the responsibility he, in King Amondo’s perception, held for them. Favian would keep his head down.

He always did.

After a deep breath, Favian knocked.

When the door opened, his gaze was already trained on the floor, the tray held out toward Leonardo.

“Favian, thank the Gods—” the prince began. Based on what he could discern with his eyes averted, Favian deduced that Leonardo paused when he saw the food. “Oh.”

“Your Highness.”

Leonardo took the tray from him, all hesitation. “Join me?” he proposed.

Favian could have laughed at the absurdity of the offer.

The request?

The command?

"Your Highness, I believe I am required at the stables,” he replied simply.

“Another time, then.”

Favian could feel Leonardo’s gaze on him, could envision its intensity. Considered his sincerity. Did the prince really believe the palace to be exactly as he had left it five years ago?

“If Your Highness commands it.”

A beat of silence. Then, Leonardo closed the door without another word.

Favian made his way to the horses. He tried to go about his duties without contemplating the day’s events, but it proved impossible. Too much had happened in too short a time. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted.

Leonardo was back—His Highness had returned. After five years of wondering, Favian finally had answers: Leonardo had wanted to see him again before leaving, had tried to. Had appreciated Favian running to see him off. Had missed him.

What did that mean for them? What did it say about their relationship, about the events of that night?

How was he supposed to figure out any of it if he couldn’t even look at Leonardo anymore?

Where the previous day had passed in a blur, this one dragged.

Favian did not look forward to dinner, but he also wanted to get it over with.

The anticipation was making him anxious, and more than once, he had to repeat a task because he dropped a bucket of water, tied his sleeves incorrectly, or found himself walking in the wrong direction.

Favian was not clumsy.

Yet, today, he was.

When the sun told him the day’s final meal was approaching, Favian set out to find a replacement for Rodrigo, got cleaned up in a room that felt as distant as his body, and made his way to the kitchen.

It was time.