A tumble of daisy petals fell from Jared's fingers to decorate the pale skin laid out beneath him. Propped up on his elbow, he glowed with happiness at the carefree laughter he could bring forth from his quiet and serious prince.

Jensen's eyes were closed, his lips twisted into a peaceful smile as they laid out under a pregnant moon, the stars the only witnesses to their love. "You're an idiot." Jensen smiled. As he blinked, his eyes dark in the twilight, Jared could not help but kiss that smile in the hope that sorrow never stole it away.

"I'm your idiot." Jared swore against soft lips, Jensen's hand snaking up to hold him down for a kiss. The prince tasted of spicy wine and fruit, his lips stained red from the berries they had picked from the bushes, and Jared would have sold his soul to see the night stretch on into eternity.

"Are you?" Jensen asked. "Are you really mine?"

"Forever and ever and ever." Jared smiled, his heart lighter than a feather, and a giddy joy echoing in his every gesture. For years he had listened to his momma spin tales of true love and magic. He had never paid them more attention than that of a boy, delighting in his mother's voice.

Never once had he believed that love could color his life brighter, and make the taste of everything that much sweeter. Then he had met Jensen by the river in the yellow valley, and he had fallen in love with the world, simply because the prince was in it.

His answer satisfied Jensen, and they lay back in the tall grass as Jared used his tongue to paint his name across the flat belly beneath his hands. Jensen had taught him that, had taught him how to write words and speak them back. Now Jared had begun to teach his younger sisters. When they asked him how he knew, he smiled secretly and simply said 'It's magic'.

"I should really get back. They'll be looking for me." Jensen said after a long period of comfortable silence stretched out between them. His words were said softly, sadly, but he made no move to leave their private sanctuary.

Jared sighed. He knew that the sun would soon stretch across the horizon. They had been careless once before, with near disastrous results. As much as it pained him, he knew Jensen had to return to the sparkling castle that loomed in the distance.

"Tomorrow?" He asked hopefully, his fingers tightening in Jensen's hair, unwilling to let him go even for a day.

The prince shook his head. "No. My father leaves to oversee the winter provisions tomorrow. I have to overtake his duties." He flashed Jared an apologetic glance. "In seven days." He promised. "Right here, at sunset."

Jared caught Jensen's fingers and held him tight. "Do you swear?"

Jensen smiled. "On my life."

________________________________________



As Jensen unbuttoned his overcoat, several pink tipped petals tumbled out onto the blond wood at his feet. A soft, secret smile crept across his face as he remembered the feel of Jared beneath him, his soft skin, and the heavy silk of his hair.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my cousin?" A mere handful of years older, Christian lolled casually against the doorframe in a way that would have made Jensen's aunt cringe in horror.

"Don't you ever knock?" Jensen didn't so much as acknowledge Christian with a further glance, instead swapping his travel soiled shirt for a clean garment.

"If I knocked, you'd never let me in." Christian shrugged.

"And that does not tell you anything?" Jensen fastened the last button and spared his cousin a dry smile.

"It tells me that you are in an unusually good mood." Said Christian. "I'm concerned."

Jensen shook his head and absently adjusted his collar. "Don't be."

With a cat-like grace to defy his demeanor, Christian righted himself and took a step across the threshold of the room. "I am your cousin. It is my responsibility, no, my pleasure to follow your every move. How else would I maintain my impressive stockpile of humorous anecdotes with which to humiliate you at Christmas?"

"Ask the servants." Jensen suggested.

Christian paused his panther-esque stalk and frowned. "I'd not thought of that."

"I'm hardly surprised." Jensen shot back scathingly. "Now do you plan on harassing me all day, or am I allowed to get some work done?"

A bright smile bloomed on Christian's face. "Ah, now that is better. Sullen and spoilt. You had me worried with all that cheerfulness. If I didn't know any better, I'd say my little cousin Jensen had gone and fallen in love."

Jensen could think of no reply, so he gave none, and hoped his scowl would discourage Christian from pushing the subject. Unfortunately, Christian was the one person in the city who refused to pander to his whims. His bright smile became almost luminous in its wickedness and within moments he was standing nose to nose with his younger cousin.

"You are!" He shouted gleefully, then, like a dog with a bone, there was no stopping him. "I knew it! Give me names! I want to know which lovely lady…" he trailed off incredulously at the blush that colored Jensen's cheeks, but managed to control his tongue. "Man bewitched my sweet, innocent virginal cousin."

"Keep your voice down!" Jensen snapped.

Christian ignored him. "It's not one of your father's peacocks, is it?" He pulled a face of disgust. "Promise me you haven't debased yourself with one of those pompous pricks."

Jensen smacked him hard, his eyes darting nervously to the open doorway and the corridor beyond. "Would you please shut up!" he begged.

With a pout, Christian rubbed at the spot Jensen had hit him. "What? I am merely looking out for your welfare. And mine, actually." He added as an afterthought. "Your father would kill me if let you fall for the wrong sort."

"And what exactly do you consider the 'wrong sort', dare I ask?" Jensen said sullenly, knowing full well that his simple farm boy of a lover wouldn't come close to meeting his father's next to impossible standards. Or Christian's, for that matter.

Christian looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "Well, he's attractive, right?"

Reluctant to add fuel to Christian's fire, but seeing no escape, Jensen nodded slowly.

Pleased, Christian continued. "Good, good. Well educated?"

Jensen fought the urge to bristle, and his response was clipped. "He can read and write."

"How many languages?"

"Does that matter?"

"No." Christian admitted with a frown. "I suppose not. Is he a good fuck?"

The question hit Jensen from his blind spot, and he sputtered at the very idea of discussing his sex life with Christian of all people. What he and Jared had was special. For them, and them alone.

"Christian!" He yelped, scandalized.

Hands were held up in a gesture of peace, but the young Lord looked far from apologetic. "Alright, alright, forget I asked. Wait…just one more question."

Jensen's expression was mutinous.

"When are you seeing him again?" Christian asked. The teasing tone had left his voice, replaced by an honest curiosity.

When Jensen answered, he thought only of moonbeams and bright, earnest eyes. "As soon as possible." He whispered, more to himself than Christian, his eyes turned out to look across the valley from his window. Jared's house, the cottage by the river, lay between two purple hills, the sun dipping low, leading his eyes to the place his heart longed to return to.

________________________________________



"Begging your pardon, your highness, but couldn't those papers wait until you're feeling better?" Sandy asked timidly, her full skirts rustling as she curtsied and her head bowed.

The young prince smiled at her, weariness and ill health clinging to him like a favored cloak. "Thank you, Sandra, but no. If my signature is not on these papers, then no one in the city will be eating this month."

The maid curtsied again and nodded her head. Jensen smiled once more, and then turned his attention to the stack of papers that stood as high as a tall man's hip. With a hand that trembled lightly, he selected the first one and began to read. Sandy had been in service to the royal family since her childhood, and as such, she was privy to a great deal of scandal and secrecy.

She settled the tray down at the far end of Jensen's desk, and poured him a small cup full of the tea that he would need to drink before dinner. Caught up in his reading, Jensen did not acknowledge her, and she slipped from the room without a sound.

Dinner and super passed, and still Jensen sat diligently at his desk. His food remained untouched, and in her despair, Sandy sent Tommy in search of Lord Kane.

Whilst Christian showed little love for the servants, he remained fiercely protective of his cousin, and after a fair amount of quiet bumbling, Tommy was able to steer the conversation subtly towards Sandy's concern for her lord.

Christian cursed when Tommy had finished, and without a second glance at the young man, stormed into the castle, his legs taking the stone stairs two and three at a time.

Throwing the doors open to the prince's study without so much as a polite knock, Christian growled at the sight within.

Jensen swayed visibly in his seat, his skin so pale it was almost transparent. His eyes were glassy, but it was obvious he was trying to pay attention to the three council members surrounding the foot of the desk.

His anger boiling, Christian stepped across the threshold.

________________________________________



Jensen wanted to crawl up and die. His head had stopped hurting when he moved it, and was instead a constant, brutal torture. The tea he had drunk so many hours ago did nothing to settle his stomach, and there was no stopping the trembling that wracked his body.

He had not felt so abysmal in months. Instead he had been so caught up in Jared's arms and his smile, that he had almost forgotten he was sick in the first place.

Now, he had no such distraction from his pain, and he longed to settle back against the warm chest of his lover, and listen to Jared name the stars and repeat the wild stories he had heard in the taverns.

"Just a few more, your highness, and then we shall leave you to your peace."

Peace, God, how he craved peace. Less than half the papers he needed to sign had been seen to, and now his father's leeches demanded more of him.

"You can leave now." Christian suggested, his voice pleasant but lined with steel. Jensen looked up, his cousin leant against the bookshelves running down the walls. Jensen would have to remind him not to slouch.

"Lord Kane." The three men greeted politely. "The prince must sign tomorrow's execution papers, or the prisons will be behind in their orders."

"Well we can't have that now, can we?" Kane drawled, his eyes rolling in disgust.

Jensen blinked down at the papers thrust under his nose. He had been signing letters and legislations for so long that one paper looked the same as any other. Three execution orders lay out on his desk. He recognized the name on the first as Gordon Walker, and felt little remorse in signing his hand. Nor on the second, for Jacob Wright. As he came to read the third, the world lurched violently, the words doing what they had been threatening to do for the past four hours, and blurring into one black void.

Strong hands held him steady in his chair, and he distantly recognized Christian's voice, warm with concern, ghosting in his ear. A large hand wrapped around his own, and steadied his hand long enough to sign the final order. Christian stamped the seal for him. "Leave." He barked.

The three councilmen did as ordered. They thanked Jensen kindly, and bowed before retreating. Jensen did not see them.

His world had narrowed to the stars he could still see in his mind, and he slumped within the safety of Christian's arms.

"Easy now, little cousin." Christian's voice was kind with him, when it was cold with all others. Perhaps the only person in the castle Jensen trusted to touch him, he sunk back further into the embrace.

When he opened his eyes, he was in his own bed, and the coldness in his skin had settled deeper than bone.

________________________________________



Sandy settled a tray of sliced fruit on the table besides her prince. Shortly after waking, Jensen had returned to his work to find the remaining mounds of documents sorted into smaller piles. Christian had pinned a note for his attention to several, indicating which Jensen could pass on to certain members of the court. The largest pile remained, and another note, with a neatly drawn frowning face in the corner, told Jensen that they, unfortunately, were for his attention only.

The prince smiled at his cousin's thoughtfulness. For all of Christian's fickle dealings with members of the court, there was no one else Jensen trusted with his confidences. Except Jared, perhaps. Jensen smiled at the notion of discussing politics and agenda with his bright-eyed farm boy. Jared's world began and ended with the farm; he knew nothing about life outside the city limits, and Jensen would have it no other way.

"Good morning Sandra." Jensen greeted, reaching for a cup of his tea. He pointedly ignored the assessing stare he was subjected to by the young maid, knowing it was a curiosity born from concern, and finding himself rather touched.

Finally, she curtsied. "Morning, Your Highness." When Jensen sat down his empty cup, she refilled it from the small copper kettle resting in the fireplace. Jensen's lips twitched, but he obediently blew on the liquid to cool it. "More work?" She asked sympathetically. Unlike his father, Jensen had never been one to discourage chatter amongst the servants. Sandy's soft voice and motherly fussing had always been something that calmed him.

"My father is a busy man." Jensen explained. "There is much to be done in his absence."

"Yes, my lord." She curtsied again, taking a step back towards the wall and fingering the hem of her pinafore.

After five minutes had stretched on, and the maid remained in her position, Jensen turned in his seat and cast her with a stern frown, belied by the slight twinkle in his eyes. "Is there something I can do for you, Sandra?"

The girl flushed prettily. "Forgive me, sire. It's just…" she flushed and bit her lip, "It's Lord Kane."

Jensen's lips twitched. He could well imagine what promises his erstwhile cousin had extracted from the young woman, and that knowledge was evident in the dark "Oh?" that he uttered in response.

"It's just…he made me promise to see that you ate a hearty meal…and, well, I knew you wouldn't want anything heavy…" She cast her gaze to the plate of fruit, a silent desperation written on her face.

"Neither you nor Christian have the right to question my judgment." Jensen said quietly. Few people knew of his condition. For the stability of the country, it needed to stay that way. A crown prince could not afford people hovering around him like mother hens. No matter how well meaning.

Sandy opened her mouth to apologize, but Jensen held up a hand to cut the words off. Instead of further reprimand, he softened his expression into a slight smile. "But I am a little hungry." With that, he reached for a slice of pear, and relief blossomed on Sandy's face.

With a smile, she asked, "More tea, sire?"

Jensen shuddered. "Lord, no."

She giggled.

Read the next story Hamartia by SplashPink