Page 46 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

With Leonardo beside him, Favian’s bed seemed smaller than it already did when he was alone. He was reminded of the prince’s thick mattress, the lush array of cushions, the woolly blankets.

“I’m sorry about the tight space,” he said.

Leonardo tilted his head to the side, leaning it against the wall. “Which isn’t your fault.”

A sigh, again.

“Once we’re at the Northern Castle,” Leonardo smiled, deep dimples on his cheeks, “You’ll get the biggest bedroom of all.”

Now it was Favian’s turn to furrow his brows. “I—I don’t think I’ll be joining you.”

“What? Why not?” The prince had raised his head again and looked at Favian in irritation.

“Your father wants me to remain here. Did I not make that clear?”

“No!” Leonardo exclaimed. His eyes were wide and his voice loud, risking drawing the attention of their neighboring rooms.

Favian placed an index finger to his lips, then pointed to the walls.

“There are bedchambers on either side,” he explained before returning to the topic at hand.

“I’m sorry, I thought—I was sure I had mentioned it.

” He searched the prince’s eyes, took his hands.

“You didn’t really think your father would let me leave with you, did you? ”

Leonardo’s mouth opened, then closed again. After a moment, he said, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I had realized.”

Favian shook his head, his insides fighting over his next words. “The success of this plan can’t hinge on your feelings for me.”

It was a recognition he had reached a while ago, yet the circumstances had shifted. Then, he had merely hoped Leonardo’s feelings for him would motivate the prince. Now, his own feelings were at stake.

For a while, they only sat there, fingers dancing on soft hands, resting their foreheads against each other’s, inhaling the shared air.

“At least the food will be good,” Leonardo choked out eventually.

Reminded of the early days after the prince’s return and understanding that Leonardo was grasping for a distraction from their future, Favian straightened. “Can I,” he carefully began, “ask you something about the war?”

Having caught his attention, Leonardo followed suit, sitting up and nodding.

“When you came back from the border, long before you had those ingredients ordered and prepared for us, you talked about Abijatan dishes a lot. Do you remember that?”

“Of course,” Leonardo chuckled. He almost sounded relieved, like he had expected a different question and was grateful for the casualness of the topic.

“The stew I showed you was one of my favorites, but there are so many more ways to prepare chickpeas and eat flatbread. Abijata has more spices than you could even dream of. I’ll make sure you get a chance to try them all one day. ”

“I’ve been wondering,” Favian inquired without engaging in Leonardo’s sentiment, worried to stray from his line of thought, “what it was like for you to fight against a culture you only ever talk positively about?”

“Oh.” Another pause. The turning wheels in the prince’s head unmistakably showed on his face. He admitted, “I suppose I’ve never really thought about it.”

Favian ached to push him further, but before he could find words that felt right, Leonardo continued.

“I was following orders. I didn’t question them.”

A pause, Leonardo’s brows quirking.

He looked at Favian directly, then.

“I should have.”

“Can I be blunt?” Favian asked, which Leonardo affirmed with a nod.

He could tell the prince was growing uncomfortable—he had likely come here with very different intentions, after all—but Favian trusted that Leonardo would tell him to stop if he no longer wanted to talk about the war, about Abijata.

“You’re going to propose marriage to the princess of the kingdom you spent years trying to eradicate in the name of Livenza’s expansion.

” So much for the distraction—Rodrigo was rubbing off on him.

“Have you considered how that might make Dinha feel? That you were directly involved in the war? That you probably—” Favian paused, gripping Leonardo’s hands firmly to let him know that he was here, would stay here.

“That you probably killed someone she knew?”

A bobbing in Leonardo’s throat was all he got for a while. The prince closed his eyes, breathed deeply. He must have considered this before. Knowing of his background now, there was no way Rodrigo had not brought it up.

Leonardo’s silence was unnerving. The prince had grown so uncharacteristically quiet over the past two weeks, the prospect of an unwanted marriage subduing his usual mannerisms, his laughs. Favian missed them, missed him .

After a while, Favian noticed the tears.

Immediately, he was hit with a wave of nausea he was familiar with ever since finding Nia curled up on her bed—guilt, he had come to understand.

“I apologize,” he said, unsure of what else to do. Leonardo didn’t react right away; his eyes remained closed.

A moment of silence, of uncertainty.

“Do you…Do you want me to hug you?”

When he received a nod, Favian closed the distance between them, and Leonardo settled into his embrace. The motion was familiar now, the prince’s body close to Favian’s nothing but welcome.

It was enough for now, for tonight. They had a long day ahead of them, and Favian had no interest in causing Leonardo any more discomfort than he already had.

“We can continue talking about this another time,” Favian quietly offered. “You said you came here to spend the night?”

He was half-certain the prince had already fallen asleep in his arms.

“Uh-huh,” came the soft reply.

“Do you still want to?”

Leonardo nodded against his chest. Favian got up, careful not to let the prince drop onto his bed too harshly. He quickly changed into his sleep attire and turned around to ask Leonardo if he wanted to try on his second set, but the prince was already asleep on his bed.

For a moment, Favian considered sleeping in Nia’s space, the bed so narrow he would barely fit next to Leonardo. It wouldn’t make sense to cram his body next to the prince.

But for once, he didn’t listen to his head.

He listened to his heart.

And his heart told him to squeeze into the space between Leonardo and the edge of the mattress. To hug his prince, pull him close.

He blew out the candle and settled onto the bed.

As he tentatively reached for Leonardo, he suddenly wondered if he was doing something wrong. He was on his way to touch the prince, even though he was asleep, unable to say if he wanted him to. While Favian was still contemplating, Leonardo yawned.

“What are you waiting for?” he mumbled, and so Favian slung one arm around the prince’s waist, carefully slid the other one underneath his head, and buried his nose in Leonardo’s hair.

The blanket was way too small for both of them, the space far too tight, but it didn’t matter.

After ten long years, they were finally sharing a bed, and nothing would ruin this moment.

Not even the prospect of an unwanted marriage.