Page 43 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)
Favian could sense it in the king’s eyes, the desire to lunge out and strike him across the face.
But he hadn’t done that since Leonardo returned, and Favian was almost certain he wouldn’t return to the habit unless the prince were sent away again.
Howsoever Leonardo and the advisory council were convincing His Majesty to continue down this less violent path, it was working well. Too well.
Dangerously well.
Usually by now, His Majesty simply ignored Favian, commanding him with words as sharp as the shard Nia had pulled out of his heel earlier, insulting his abilities, or imposing task upon task on him.
He did what he could that would not leave any direct marks on the servant, so there would be no traces leading Leonardo to the laborious reality that his father was still very much making his servants, including Favian, endure.
It still hurt, but Favian had become so accustomed to dealing with King Amondo’s tempers that his responses were automated; he didn’t need to think about the appropriate form of subservience anymore—it had become second nature.
Today, however, Favian’s mind was still muddy, jumping between the once more encroaching emptiness, his injured foot, and thoughts of Leonardo.
And so His Majesty’s words ricocheted off of Favian as if he hadn’t heard them at all.
He went on without acknowledging King Amondo’s comment, pouring sauce over eggs like His Majesty had not spoken at all.
Only when the king’s ringed fingers closed around his wrist did he realize he should have reacted.
“Your Majesty, I apologize.”
The cold metal pieces dug into his skin. They would leave marks.
“You better,” the king spoke, his words ice. He intensified his hold on Favian’s wrist, virtually pressing his arm into the table. “Imbecile,” His Majesty spat
Lord Casella added a noise that sounded acutely like a giggle before King Amondo continued, “My son may have you convinced that you’re worth something, but let me remind you: he is getting married soon.
And once he has taken a wife, he will take up residence in the Northern Castle until his time comes to take his place on the throne.
And until that day comes. . .” Favian’s hand was being twisted, slowly, the king’s fingernails now digging into his arteries.
“You scum will be stuck here. With me. So I suggest you get off that high horse quickly and remember your place. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” No flinch, no shake, no shiver. The answer came quickly and steadily; despite the ever-threatening emptiness, Favian was composed. He always was when interacting with King Leonardo Amondo I.
This had always mystified him. Why was it that other people’s touches, even other people’s words about His Majesty, were more impactful in prompting his moments than the king’s presence, words, or touch itself?
In the absence of an answer, Favian could only accept the matter.
“Good.” His hand was shoved away so hard he almost stumbled backwards, almost dropped the pitcher of sauce in his other hand.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he resumed his duty. He served. Placed dishes on His Majesty’s platter as per his wish, even if it was a single olive intended to convey that he could, indeed, be made to do whatever it was the king desired.
Reminding him that even if Leonardo offered to serve him in bed, for as long as the monarchy existed the way it did, he would always, always return to being the one doing the serving.
When Leonardo came to pick up Azure, Favian had managed to cover up most of the bruising on his wrist with the sleeve of his tunic tied a little further down than usual.
As a result, the fabric had gotten in his way a few times already, but he preferred the inconvenience to the chance of having to recount the king’s words to his child.
Favian heard Leonardo before he saw him, the prince as good as skipping into the stable. He closed the gate and gave Favian a bright, dimpled smile.
“Good morning,” Leonardo said. He came closer but stopped a few feet away from Favian. He held out his hands. “How did you sleep?”
Tentatively, Favian took a step towards the prince and placed his palms into Leonardo’s. The fingers immediately closed around his, no rings this time. Only smooth fingertips caressing his skin.
“Not enough,” Favian replied.
“Me neither,” Leonardo chuckled. “But that’s not what I asked.”
“Oh.” Favian hadn’t realized he hadn’t answered the question. “I slept well, I suppose. As well as most nights.”
Narrowing his eyebrows, Leonardo lay his head to the side. “And you sleep well most nights?”
“I sleep. I don’t dream much, and when I do, it’s usually bad. So as long as I don’t wake up during the night and don’t dream, my sleep is alright,” Favian explained.
“Shouldn’t you be aiming for more than alright?”
“Shouldn’t we be talking about your future instead of my sleep habits?”
Leonardo sighed. He sat down on a bale of hay, one knee slung over the other. “I guess. I might be deflecting.”
That was something Favian could relate to all too well. He tied Azure’s bridle to a post and sat down next to the prince. “Maybe we don’t have to talk about it right now. I am meeting with Rodrigo and Nia later to talk about the situation. They want you there, too. We could discuss it then?”
“I figured Rodrigo would be up to something,” Leonardo said. “He’s got a lot of ideas, doesn’t he? I’m really thankful, actually—it’s why I approached him when you weren’t doing so well.”
Was Favian doing well right now? He genuinely couldn’t tell.
“His directness is refreshing, honestly,” Leonardo continued, “And I’m glad I didn’t need to convince him much to be direct with me.
” In the absence of a reply, the prince sighed.
“I think I’m deflecting again.” He hovered his fingers over Favian’s arm, carefully drawing his fingertips across the sleeve once he received an affirmative nod.
“I don’t really know what I’m feeling, to be honest. I don’t want to marry.
I don’t want to go to war again. I have no interest in anyone else, and I really don’t want to fight anyone anymore.
I just want to be with you in peace.” He dropped his head onto Favian’s shoulder.
The prince’s next words were quiet. “I’m really glad that you switched with Rodrigo last night. I was scared I had ruined things between us.”
“You?” The idea was laughable, but Favian didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I messed up, and I am sorry, truly.”
He could feel the corner of Leonardo’s mouth moving on his shoulder.
“So you said. But I think I need to apologize, too. I should have realized sooner how truly awful things are here. I thought that by just being better than my father, things could change. And maybe they can, but it will never be enough, will it?”
“No,” Favian whispered. Leonardo’s understanding filled him with conflicting emotions—there was happiness, and there was also a certain mournfulness.
He was glad the prince had finally reached this point.
He was so, so glad. At the same time, he wished there had never been a need for this realization in the first place.
These feelings, once so conflicting, no longer seemed mutually exclusive.
“I don’t think you can change as much as you would like to. Not by yourself, anyway.”
Leonardo pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Then I guess it’s time to team up.” He sat up and composed his hair back into shape. “When and where are we meeting tonight?”
“After dinner. Here.”
“Alright, I’ll be here.” It seemed like Leonardo would get up, but he didn’t. He hesitated, fidgeting with the braid he had just carefully laid in place. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Favian breathed, coaxing a smile onto the prince’s face.
Leonardo’s lips were soft on his, the kiss tender. It felt nothing like the passionate touches they had shared the night before, and yet, it felt exactly the same. It felt right .
Favian’s hands found their way onto the back of Leonardo’s neck while Leonardo’s rested on his hips, thumbs rubbing careful circles into his tunic.
“I can’t believe I get to do this now,” his prince murmured and gave Favian’s waist a light squeeze. “How am I ever supposed to let go of you again?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to,” Favian burst their bubble. “I have a lot of work to do.” He got up, letting go of Leonardo in the process, and limped to the riding gear he needed to clean today.
With narrowed eyebrows, Leonardo followed him. “What happened to you?”
“I stepped into a shard this morning,” Favian shrugged. “It’s nothing. I barely feel it.”
He could tell Leonardo didn’t believe him, but—whether it was the exhaustion from his own struggles or the simple knowledge that Favian would not budge from his insistence on being able to do his tasks as usual—he didn’t question Favian’s assertion.
Instead, he said goodbye as he untied Azure and quickly placed another kiss on Favian’s cheek before going on his way.
Favian could get used to this.