Page 44 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

Rodrigo, Nia, and Favian were not scheduled for dinner with Leonardo this evening. It was fortunate, Favian decided, that they would not have to share a meal during which they would not be forced to act normally around each other.

Instead, Favian left a nervous Rodrigo grooming Alto by himself when he made his way to the dining hall.

Bearing the anticipation of their meeting had turned out to be a particular challenge for the boy, his limbs shaking impatiently all day, fingers drumming on whatever surface he could find. Nia had come by earlier and tried to calm him with soft touches and quiet whispers, but to no avail.

Favian was no stranger to inner unrest, yet seeing it so blatantly displayed by a person he usually perceived as nothing but composed was unsettling.

He hoped Rodrigo’s nervousness was a sign of his anticipation, his eagerness to share his plans, more than it was worry.

Favian did not care to know how bad things had to get to properly unsettle Rodrigo, perhaps the only person in Favian’s life who seemed to him as resilient as Favian himself often wished to be.

Favian served His Majesty, focused on not betraying any of his own anxiety, careful not to reveal the amalgamation of feelings inside him through shaking hands, moving eyebrows, or missed commands.

King Amondo, it appeared, did not suspect a thing.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Rodrigo said once they had convened at the stable.

Four bales of hay were assembled in a rectangle. Favian was sitting opposite Rodrigo, with Leonardo to his right, opposite Nia. Her left hand was placed on Rodrigo’s thigh. The boy was leaning forward conspiratorially, speaking with all the seriousness of an adult.

“I believe there is no way to get out of the situation at hand. The king and queen want Leonardo to marry or lead their next conquest, and so Leonardo will either take a wife or return to war.”

“But—” Favian intended to protest—he didn’t even have time to process the informal address, too focused on the content of Rodrigo’s words. It had been his understanding that the boy had a plan to avoid this exact scenario. A gesture stopped Favian before he could continue.

“Am I correct in assuming that going to war again is out of the question?” Rodrigo asked the prince.

Leonardo nodded. His legs were crisscrossed on the hay, an arm lingering in the space between him and Favian.

Favian knew it was there for his taking, but the situation didn’t feel right.

Too focused on keeping the emptiness at bay, not to let it overtake him—the idea of feeling Leonardo’s skin on his while he was spending so much energy trying to stay focused, stay present, was too much.

“Which leaves us with marriage.”

“Us?” Leonardo raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, us.” Rodrigo’s voice left no space for disagreement. “You may be the one marrying, but the amount of control you hold over this palace has severe implications for all of us.”

It was clear as day that something had transpired between Rodrigo and Leonardo in the weeks since the ball.

In my absence , Favian was reminded. The casualness with which Rodrigo addressed the prince and the latter’s reaction to this manner of speaking affirmed that they had established some kind of norm, a habitual way of interacting with one another that Favian had missed.

Some tension remained, but as Leonardo had indicated, their baseline was one of mutual respect, something Favian knew for a fact Rodrigo was reluctant to hand out.

At Rodrigo’s assertion, Leonardo crossed his arms. “I will still be here if I get married. Whoever I marry would move here, not the other way around, as is custom.”

“Actually,” Favian intercepted, “Your father has different plans.” They all looked at him.

He hadn’t realized that he was bringing crucial information to this meeting, information the others did not yet have.

“At breakfast, His Majesty told me he intends to move you to the Northern Castle once the marriage is official.”

Leonardo blinked a few times. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Quietly, Favian replied, “I hadn’t realized you didn’t know.”

The prince sighed and slumped forward, running his hands over his face. “So what do we do?”

“As I was saying,” Rodrigo picked back up.

“I have a plan. It will still be possible if you move north. Actually, it might work even better.” He paused, eyebrows drawn together.

“Your father wants you out of the palace so he can return to his usual ways, right? And so they are no longer questioned, since he will likely once more remove the council from its position of authority? I don’t think he has considered the advantage he will be putting you at when he no longer controls your daily communications.

Once you’re at the Northern Castle, you can establish your own household with all those servants who have come to trust you, completely independent of his.

You can set up your own council and call upon your chosen advisors. You’ll be sovereign.”

“And I will be married.”

“Exactly!” Rodrigo snapped his fingers at Leonardo.

The excitement felt wrong. Favian understood Rodrigo’s desire for change, his eagerness to establish a system different from the one they were in, even if right now, it sounded like he was proposing to establish yet another monarchy, just with Leonardo at its head—so far, this plan did not make sense to Favian.

And Rodrigo wouldn’t be the one who had to give up a relationship in the wake of its execution.

Relationship?

“So all you have to do is marry someone whose values align with yours,” Nia took over. They must have talked about this idea beforehand; her words were smooth as they blended into Rodrigo’s. “Someone who could be on your side. On our side!”

“And who would that be?” Favian asked. He was getting exhausted, tired by the non-relatable enthusiasm around him. He had such little energy to begin with; he just wanted Rodrigo to lay out his plan already.

The boy looked at each of them in return. “I think you all know who I’m thinking of.”

“Dinha,” Leonardo said.

Rodrigo nodded. “She’s our strongest ally outside of these walls.”

“Ally in what?” Favian intercepted, his voice much weaker than he would have liked it to be. “You’re talking like this is some organized resistance.”

“Perhaps it is,” the boy countered.

Nia chimed in before Favian could respond, “But she’s a princess in her own right. I already told Rodrigo; I doubt she’s interested in dismantling Livenza’s monarchy.”

Rodrigo cocked his head, then. “And I think she is. Abijata’s system is different from Livenza’s.

It’s less authoritarian. More participatory.

There isn’t just a council; Abijata has a parliament.

It’s all very experienced. Maybe Dinha won’t join this fight out of the same motives as us, but she’s bored with the life she’s living, and I do believe she is not attached to her title or most of the privileges it provides for her.

There are fewer of them in Abijata, anyway.

The biggest issue, in my opinion, will be convincing her to go against her mothers. ”

“How do you know any of this?” Favian inquired at the same time as Leonardo asked, “Then how do we convince her?”

This was all going way too fast.

“I’m sorry,” Favian said loudly. “But can we get back to the point where we are allying with people?” He looked at Rodrigo, mustered all his strength.

The words didn’t come easily, but they came.

“I believe in your ideas, at least the ones you have shared, and I want to trust in your means. But I can’t do that if you continue to keep secrets from us.

” He took a deep breath. “How do you know Dinha?”

“Favian,” Nia said. “Rodrigo grew up in Abijata’s palace. How did you not know that?”

“He never told me,” Favian as good as accused.

“And you never asked,” Rodrigo shot back.

And Favian realized that it was true. He had known that Rodrigo was not born in Livenza, but he had never asked where he was from. Nor had he asked why the boy had moved to Livenza in the first place, how he had come to live and work at the palace, or what his background was.

He shared a look with Leonardo that let him know that the prince had asked, that he knew of Rodrigo’s past.

After a pause, Favian admitted, “You’re right. I apologize.”

Only when Rodrigo acknowledged his apology with a nod did he continue. “So you lived in Abijata’s palace?”

The boy nodded again. “King Amondo doesn’t know this—I doubt he would have let me into his palace if he did.”

Rodrigo truly trusted Leonardo, then, if he was speaking so openly about something he did not want the prince’s father to know.

And suddenly, a number of facts clicked into place. Rodrigo’s familiarity with Abijatan food and the world beyond Livenza’s borders, his knowledge of things that seemed so foreign to Favian, his scrutiny of the majesties. Leonardo’s willingness to listen to that scrutiny, to Rodrigo’s advice.

“I was born in Abijata,” the boy continued while Favian ruminated.

“Dinha’s mothers are kind rulers, and working for them is nothing like working under Leonardo’s parents.

They have a parliament chosen by the people that aids in their decision-making, and they heed its decisions regardless of what it agrees on. ”

Favian’s eyes grew wide. “That’s an option?”

Rodrigo looked him up and down, barely stifling a scoff. “Of course it is. Leonardo has an entire stack of books on different forms of government, many of which allow the people a voice in one form or another. Not every ruler is as authoritarian as his parents.”

“Then why did you leave?” Leonardo asked in a tone that told Favian he had asked this multiple times before, and in doing so, voiced exactly what Favian was thinking. “Why did you come here?”