Chapter 2: Los tronos están preñados de mentiras

In a span of seven years, Tommy and his father’s relationship has gone through a full cycle.

It’s not that he wasn’t loved by the Emperor as a child; he remembers the hugs, the kisses, the mountains and mountains of gifts he’d find in his room for no occasion in particular. It’s the fact that to his father’s passing-by, eventful but rare visits Tommy much preferred his mother’s constant presence.

Things have changed a lot after the Empress passed away. The very event that broke the royal family brought the prince and the Emperor together. Like a butterfly stammering in the darkness, Tommy was searching for his light, and he found it in the face of his father; he admired him in every way, wanted to be like him, wanted to make him      proud    .

It is true that his initial interest in empire’s matters came not from his love for his country but to his family. Over the years, as he turned from an obnoxious ten-year-old to a noble young man, more and more duties were put on his shoulders. Weekly activities that Tommy and his father did together – hunting, walks in the garden, long nights where they would whisper of the country they would build together – turned more and more rare, until there was none at all.

It was fair.

It was expected.

The Emperor was a ruler before he was a father, and it’s not like he wasn’t present in Tommy’s life at all. His reports were looked over; corrected, if that was necessary. The fact that there were no complaints about the quality of his work meant that the Emperor was pleased with him.

And yet… sometimes, lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, Tommy wonders at which point did he turn from the Emperor’s son to his colleague. 

The other day he was passing by Fundy’s chambers, and through the open door he got a glance of him and Wilbur laughing and smiling over a letter, probably from Lady Sally; it made something deep within him ache, and he ran before either could notice him.

Seeing this stranger next to his father stirs up similar feelings in Tommy’s chest. More so when the Emperor asks Ranboo to join them at lunch. Tommy doesn’t understand the reason for this special treatment. Yes, the Emperor has brought commoners to the Imperial palace before, but never have ever any of them been invited to eat at the same table as the royal family. It’s an honor not every noble is found to be deserving of, and the only thing Ranboo did so far was anger Tommy and get him in trouble.

As a crown-prince, Tommy was taught not to doubt the Emperor’s decisions. Doubt leads to defying and disobedience, and disobedience – to chaos. Shame of the accident in the garden is still hot in his bloodstream, and Tommy holds onto that feeling of resilience and anger and      squeezes     it until it’s nothing but pitiful embers.

Tommy keeps silent as they reach the open doors and Phil nudges Ranboo forward into the dining room. It’s one of the casual ones that is used outside of events and celebrations, when it’s just them, the royal family. Decorated in warm colors and with sunlight flowing in freely through a giant yellow-tinted window, it seems like the walls are made of pure gold.

Ranboo’s mouth falls agape, and he freezes in the entrance, Tommy almost bumping into him from behind.

“Move,” Tommy says.

“I’m sorry-” Ranboo quickly whips around. “I just never saw anything like this before.”

“You’ve never seen a dining room?”

He is careful to keep out the displease out of his tone, but still stumbles into a disapproving look from the Emperor. If there is someone that his rude demeanor surprises today the most, it’s Tommy himself. Usually, he is better at keeping himself put; perhaps it’s the tiredness finally taking a toll on him.

The hardest part hasn’t even come up yet. He needs to concentrate. Tommy doesn’t like postponing his duties and wasting time on unnecessary breaks, but if Wilbur does show up at the lunch, he knows that he is going to need some      real     rest afterwards.

And as the saying goes, it’s just the moment that Wilbur chooses to appear.

“Forgive my brother,” honey-sweet voice croons from behind. “Theseus is not at fault that he grew up in this luxury and, consequently, doesn’t have enough appreciation for it.”

The second oldest son of the Emperor – though only a few minutes younger than his twin brother Techno – is, frankly, a bastard, but he is a well-mannered bastard, and it makes matters ten times worse.

Like a fae from the tales they used to listen to as children, he rarely lies, but twists the truth to serve his own purposes, and his current purpose is mostly trying to make Tommy slip. At every step of the path the crown-prince walks, Wilbur is there to throw him off: at this point, the mere sight of unreadable dark eyes makes him tense.  

Tommy can’t even talk back to him. It’s not because Wilbur is older – age means very little in this empire, and prince Theseus is a living proof of it – but because any word that leaves his mouth might be used against him later, and there is a limited number of things that Tommy cares more about than the royal family’s reputation.

Not even a muscle twitches on Tommy’s face as he slowly turns around to face his brother. “Good afternoon, Wilbur. I assume you haven’t greeted His Majesty yet?”

Wilbur narrows his eyes – a silent admission of his defeat – and as if nothing has happened, he turns to the Emperor, “Father, I’m happy to see you in good health.”

The Emperor nods back at him. “Wilbur, meet my guest, Ranboo.”

Ranboo comes to his senses at that. He bows clumsily under the prince’s long, studying look.

“Ah, you must be Ranboo,” Wilbur puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder and leads him back into a standing position. “No need for such formalities. My father’s friend is my friend.”

“Thank you but- how do you know my name?”

“The whole palace is buzzing with gossip about a visitor with differently colored eyes. I must admit, that is quite an unusual sight to see.”

Wilbur’s smile looks very welcoming and warm. It’s enough to fool anyone but Tommy. He still remembers what his brother’s actual smile looks like, and it used to be so much more than a curtain to hide the calculated look in his eyes; one of a predator thinking of the best way to tear someone apart. At times like this he wishes he could take a peek into Wilbur’s thoughts and see the world in his eyes, with every person’s weak points laid out before him – just squeeze hard enough and they will break.

“Is Fundy going to join us today?” he asks, breaking the exchange of pleasantries and turning everyone’s attention to himself.

Wilbur tilts his head, “I believe he is still attending his lessons.”

“I see no reason why we’re still not starting our meal, then.”

Finally, with the Emperor’s approval, they start to settle around the table.

Tommy usually finds himself too busy for a proper lunch like this, and more often than not Tubbo orders the servants to bring a simple meal to his chambers or the garden arbor. When the royal family’s schedules do align with each other, Wilbur sits to the Emperor’s right and Tommy on the opposite end of the table. The left seat – where Techno is supposed to be – is always left empty. Tommy never asked if he could occupy it out of respect for his oldest brother, and it’s not like the Emperor ever asked if he’d want to – so he almost chokes on air when he holds it out for Ranboo.

 “What’s the matter, Theseus?” Wilbur says mockingly.

Tommy recollects himself. The Emperor is just being polite and kind, like a true ruler is supposed to be.

“Just thought of something,” the crown-prince replies, averting his gaze. One of the servants holds out the chair for him, so he sits down and absently reaches for a glass full of water. “Is Techno going to return to the capital for the Summer Solstice celebrations?”

“Indeed,” the Emperor replies. “Speaking of which, how are the invitations to foreign guests going?”

“Crown-prince Dream of Esempi and queen Nikachu of Drywaters have confirmed their attendance, and I’m yet to send out the letters to the dukes of Badlands.” 

The Emperor clearly doesn’t see anything wrong in the fact that they are discussing state matters in front of a stranger. Tommy picks up the casual conversation, and while his tone is steady, his mind races back and forth, and he resists the urge to tap his foot against the floor. Ranboo’s struggle with utensils keeps him distracted: it’s irritating, more than anything, with all the extra sounds and movements that he does around the table.

   Clang.  

A glass falls on the floor. Ranboo stares at the shattered pieces with wide eyes. Instead of scolding him for breaking an expensive object, the Emperor leans closer and asks, in a worried voice, “Did you get hurt?”

“No,” Ranboo says, his shoulders spiking up to his ears. “I’m sorry, I’m just- I don’t think I should be here.”

   No    , Tommy agrees, glancing up and then lowering his gaze back down and pretending to be extremely interested in a piece of sweet bread on his plate. When was the last time the Emperor sounded so caring about him?

A distinct feeling of being watched prickles the back of Tommy’s neck. Wilbur doesn’t even try to hide his interest, propping his chin up on his hands with an expression of a person watching a show performed specifically for him. From that look alone, Tommy knows that he has made a mistake. He doesn’t yet himself understand the emotions swirling in his chest, and Wilbur already took a note of them – and how they can be used against the crown-prince in the future.

Tommy swallows down his worry. Meanwhile, the Emperor reassures Ranboo. “It’s okay. Would you rather have a meal in your room?”

The boy nods. Tommy can’t help but feel a certain degree of relief at that. A couple of servants come in, summoned by a ring of a bell on the table. One of them escorts Ranboo and will probably show him the way to the guest rooms, the other cleans up the broken glass. The table is at silence, and only when the servants leave and close the door behind themselves, Wilbur clears his throat.

“So,” he says, lightly touching the corner of his lips with a napkin. “Ranboo.”

The Emperor chuckles, “Quite an endearing young man, isn’t he?”

“He is. Though not everyone at this table might agree with that.” A pointed look is thrown at Tommy. “I heard Ranboo had an unpleasant encounter with Theseus today.”

Winter winds come fast, but the rumors in the palace spread faster. Tommy puts his fork down, perhaps a little bit louder than he should have. “That was a simple misunderstanding,” he says.

“It was, though from now on, I expect you to be more considerate with him,” the Emperor hums.

Tommy’s heart sinks into his stomach. “From now on?”

“Ranboo has some memory issues. When one of my guards found him in the forest near the borders, he couldn’t remember anything except his name. I offered to let him stay at the palace for as long as it takes to find his family.”

“Oh,” is all Tommy manages to say. “I see.”

“I understand that this is an unusual situation,” the Emperor adds. “But you shouldn’t look down upon Ranboo just because he is not from a noble family. Perhaps getting to know him better will be a good experience for you as a crown-prince.”

Tommy couldn’t believe his ears. “Pardon me, Your Majesty, if I’m interpreting your words wrong but- do you want me to      befriend     Ranboo?”

“Do you deem that above yourself?”

The prince’s gaze, previously trailing down to his own hands, snaps back up. The frown on the Emperor’s face couldn’t mean anything good, even if his tone was more thoughtful and questioning rather than angry.

“Father, I don’t think that Theseus’ hesitation is related to arrogance,” Wilbur cuts in.

The Emperor raises a brow, “Is that so?”

Tommy clears his throat. “I’m just not quite sure I’ll be having enough time for our guest now that I’m busy with the Summer Solstice preparations.”

Momentary surprise, brought by Wilbur’s interference, is quickly brushed away. Tommy uses this opportunity even though he knows that his brother didn’t bail him out of the kindness of his heart. For a moment, their eyes meet – Tommy sees his own stern expression reflected in black pupils. It feels like his entire soul is exposed to this knowing, deep gaze.

Wilbur smiles. Whatever he was looking for, he had found it. “I just got a brilliant idea,” he says. “How about we transfer Ranboo into one of the guest rooms in the eastern wing?”

Tommy closes his eyes and inhales slowly. If Ranboo will live in the eastern wing, Tommy will, no matter how hard he’d try to avoid it, see him at least a few times a day. Not to mention that all the nobles will not be happy once they learn of Ranboo’s origin. The current members of the royal family might not be so arrogant – but some of these dukes and duchesses      will     take it as offense if they’d be forced to socialize with a commoner.

“It’s a very small favor to ask for, and I’m sure that Theseus would do anything to please you,” Wilbur adds. “But of course, it’s up to him to decide.”

   No it’s not    , Tommy wants to say, not when Wilbur words it like this and practically shoves the only possible solution in his face.

Once Tommy opens his eyes, there is not a trace of any emotion in them. Only collected and prudent ice. “It would be my pleasure,” he says.

***

Later, when the meal finishes, the Emperor dismisses them both. “What was that about?” Tommy asks once he and Wilbur are behind the door and out of the range of their father’s hearing.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Wilbur laughs. “Ranboo hasn’t been here even one full day – and you’re already jealous?”

The burning feeling in Tommy’s chest echoes, as if responding to its name. He swallows it down, and his nails dig into his palm behind his back.

“You’re being unreasonable, Wilbur,” he replies, blinking too slowly for it to be relaxed.

“We’ll see about that,” his brother hums.

For the first time in a long while, Tommy wants to argue with him. But as if on cue, the servants appear. Tommy doesn’t want to deal with rumors on top of everything else, especially now that the responsibility for Ranboo’s stay at the palace was practically transferred onto him, so he watches his brother smirk and leave in tensed silence.

Wilbur’s teasing him, waving a red fabric in front of a caged bull, challenging him to try and break out. Tommy’s not an animal. He is patient, and reserved, and an example for others to follow. He knows he has made a mistake by showing a weakness in front of Wilbur, and Wilbur’s stubborn to an obsessive degree – he’s not going to stop until he finds a way to break him through it.

It’s fine. Tommy has been in far worse situations in less than ideal circumstances. His brother’s provoking behavior is nothing in relation to some things that he has been through. Tommy can shield himself away, like he always does, behind steady steel walls, and whatever Wilbur is planning, is not going to work.

   Right?