:: The Joust of Riley's 17th Year ::

[eblouissant]

It was the first time that Riley had been on the field, he'd trained hard for this. Very hard, all around him the area of people watched from their stands and seats. His armor gleamed pristine, the visor over his head, the jousting javelin tucked firmly underneath his arm.

Riding astride on his stallion, he galloped toward the ready line as the Games Crier spoke out his name. "Sir Cyril of House Valiase and his opponent Sir Germaine Moreau, please take your positions." and then Riley was in place, his heart thundering in his ears even while all around him the stadium turned as silent save for a few coughs here and there. The horn was blown and then he dug his heels in, pressed himself forward and started.

Grounding himself into the saddle, his eyes never leaving his opponent. Pounding hoofs the only thing to break the silence. That moment of fear, the way his stomach hit his throat and made him choke, so close so close. Held Breath. And then the sound of armor where he prepared for anything. No thinking, nothing-- head empty.

A clatter behind him as he charged forth. He had expected weightlessness, pain, but nothing as he made it to the end and he turned his horse around to see the attendants on the field rushing to Sir Germaine's side to help him from where he had stopped. Already they were assisting him off his horse, medics and his page. And then the crier called out.

"The Winner, Sir Cyril of House Valiase!" and the crowd went almost wild. Somewhere in the stands, he knew that his father was smiling approvingly, but his eyes did not search for his father. But a pair of eyes that he knew quite well, sitting in the royal box. There he could see them there, clapping along with the crowds-- his father not too far away from King Etienne itself.

A polite smile at his father and his King. And then his eyes searched out his best friend Guillaume with a far more shy smile; he was handed a rose by his page and there was a moment where he tried to figure out what to do with it.. he knew what to do, give it to a young lady of the court as was the proper procedure. A look at best friend, fleeting before he cantered his horse up to one of the young ladies of the Court and he handed her the rose.

--

Parties were like this, the celebrations were massive and with no expense spared. Now Riley could have found much more useful things to spend money on than a fountain of champagne and one of matching chocolate side by side-- but he did not make the rules nor did he hold the purse strings, so he held a glass of wine and watched the dancing.

He'd already done the required dancing with the young lady he'd given the rose to, also had been grilled on his mother on if she would make a suitable 'wife' for him. He did not care either way, if they arranged it then they did, it was not uncommon for parents to arrange matches for their children though he'd heard Guillaume state that his father the King was attempting to change that, to make Olympia more accepting. Trying to bridge the gap between Sylvia and Olympia, attempting to give women more rights.. everything that most Lords balked at (including Riley's father).

It felt like a fairy tale that was told, a fairy tale where magic existed and where women could be knights, where a marriage was only dictated by love. it was such a beautiful fairy tale, but Riley heard his father speak in contempt of such things, and Riley was not sure of the country was ready for that yet.

Comments

[giveanything]

Guillaume was probably entirely too anxious for someone who was not personally participating in the joust. But that was what made it all the more nerve-wracking; Riley was out there, and while jousting was not intended to be particularly dangerous, his best friend could wind up hurt in this. And! It was Riley's first time on the field, and Guillaume knew that the young knight had put so much work into training and preparing. He wanted it to go well, wanted Riley to succeed in everything he wanted.

So when Sir Cyril of House Valiase knocked his opponent from the saddle -- and looked like some dashing legend come to life while doing it, well, no one was cheering louder or more fervently than the dark haired young man seated by the king. When Riley met his gaze, he'd find Guillaume beaming brightly, joy and pride near glowing from him.

He tried not to let that visibly dim when he watched Riley hand that rose to the young woman. He tried not to pay an ounce of attention to the stirring of that felt heavy and cold in his chest, and instead forced his smile all the brighter. Riley was a wonderful person, kind and intelligent and noble. Whatever young lady had his attention and his heart would be lucky, and Guillaume knew that Riley deserved the world, even if that world included, well, not him.

Not that it could include him, in Olympia. His father was remarkably open minded, and Liam thought it was about time that Olympia stepped into the light on many of the issues his father was trying to change. But change was neither easily nor quickly effected.

So Guillaume swallowed down his own unnamed feelings, the ones he was afraid to speak even in the silence of his own thoughts. He'd gotten almost decent at doing it. Sort of.

Despite the way his thoughts seemed to have found their way into an unfortunate gloom spiral, Guillaume was all smiles as he finally found his way to Riley's side, after the feasting and the dancing and the celebration were well under way. "Congratulations on your victories today, Sir Cyril." His lips formed the name while trying to hide an amused smirk at the formality. "On and off the field." He said the last with a subtle gesture of his head inclining in the direction of the lady that Riley had danced with, who was casting shy glances his way in between tittering with a group of friends.

[eblouissant]

A solemn smile, though those clear grey eyes perhaps danced a bit more then it had any right to do so-- he masked it with a sip of his own wine. "It always feels so very wrong when you call be Cyril, your Highness." there, if they were doing things just because they were proper? Well he launched it right back at the Prince even as he inclined his head and gave a soft bow.

They were not being watched, he was after all the closest friend of Prince Guillaume and there was nothing of note about their association though he did look in the direction that the charming Prince pointed toward, at the young lady whom he had given the rose to. He flushed and shook his head. "No, it is not like that.. I mean I only did what was expected."

And then he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to compose himself from the blush. "It is nothing, I would not be proclaiming a wedding announcement or anything; merely tradition and tradition is important." for the Joust, the winner always gave a flower to a fair lady. "Do not tease me so, Liam.." the nickname he'd given to the Prince, whispered quietly.

[giveanything]

"Feels even wronger to say it," Guillaume agreed with an exaggerated wrinkling of his nose at being called your Highness by his... his Riley. All right, yes, he deserved that for starting it with the Cyril-ing, but still. He waved his hand at the bow too. Bah. Okay okay, point proven, Riley.

Still, he tried not to look too pleased by the way that Riley dismissed the idea of the pretty girl that he'd gifted that rose to and then danced with, while Guillaume had tried his damnedest not to watch the whole affair and imagine himself in the young lady's place. Not a productive exercise at all.

"Tradition is overrated," Liam muttered. He had liked that nickname since the moment he'd first heard Riley use it. It sounded simple and intimate, and he liked both those things. "But fine. I'll stop teasing you, even if you're blushing redder than that rose was."

[eblouissant]

There was his Liam, full of charm and aplomb-- the people loved him and with good reason. He was everything that a prince should be, and Patrice? Well Patrice was still learning how not to chase them all over the place because he wanted to be include-- though Riley never minded it, he did after all have younger brothers of his own.

"I do not really like dancing if I am being honest." he said this with gravity, though he knew Liam enjoyed it. "Mostly dancing is what happens when my mother commands me to do something." he looked toward the sparkling floor, the way that their fathers were talking back and forth held in their own little meeting. A friendship much like his and Liams (even though that was perhaps a dreadful bout of macabre forshadowing). "It is much more fun to observe people quietly from a safe distance."

"For example, I think that with the way that Sir Moreau is looking at Lady Anora, and with the way that she's been fussing over his arm all evening-- there will be a engagement very soon." so he did not feel too bad for flooring Sir Moreau at the joust, though he'd been quick to offer his hand in sportsmanship.

[giveanything]

Patrice was a gremlin, but Liam obviously loved the little pest anyway -- even if he'd been known to purposefully ditch him in favor of having time alone with Riley. That was normal brotherly things though.

"You may not like it, but it loves you. You look like something out of a storybook out there. The handsome, gallant knight. Fearsome in battle but full of gentle grace on the dancefloor. It's a wonder half the women don't fully swoon as you pass." A huff of amused breath. "Hells, it's a wonder I don't." Lies. He totally swooned.

But he turned his attention to watching Sir Moreau as Riley pointed out. "Think so? Well, good for Sir Moreau. I always liked weddings."

[eblouissant]

And Riley never minded it when Patrice came along, always was patient with the little gremlin, as Liam called him, thought that he was precious in a very inquisitive way. But sometimes he did like it when little boy didn't follow them-- when it was merely best friend time. And Liam was his best friend, prized above all others. Their bond was close, hell-- when they had turned twelve they'd performed a blood bond, and that meant something.

It was unbreakable.

Or so Riley thought that nothing could break it.

Why did the thought of Liam looking at him feel him with some sort of flutter-- he'd never really noticed girls, aside from Lady Liana whom he knew that his father one day wished for him to marry. And that was not notice so much as a friendship-- he did not feel anything for her, and he was rather confident that she did not either.

But Liam however, there was something-- a soft buzz of awareness whenever the Prince entered the room, he heard the buzz and then he would look up and see Liam had entered the sphere of his existence. Riley had a feeling that no matter where Liam was, he'd feel it-- and it was comforting in a way. "It would be very uncomfortable to make people swoon just by myself walking around so it is a good thing it does not happen, even doubly awkward if you were to do it because.. well then I would have to pick you up off the floor and right you."

[giveanything]

Liam was just self aware enough to know that he was crushing very hard on his closest friend. He was also smart enough to know it was a hopeless thing anyway. Riley had always been so good, and the idea of two men loving one another and marrying wasn't exactly the sort of thing that was allowed -- especially for a royal and a noble.

Didn't stop him from the occasional frequent fantasy, daydream about a wedding where it was Riley standing at an altar with him, looking at him with those clear gray eyes like he loved him. It was a sweet, impossible, ridiculous thought. Guillaume understood this rationally, but hearts were irrational things.

"Oh? That a fact? Sweep me right up in your strong knightly arms? Hmm?" Liam's eyes, dark as aged whiskey, were positively alight at this. He lifted one hand up, pressing the back of his wrist to his forehead in a dramatic little display, wavering on his feet. "I... I might be feeling a swoon coming on right now, Sir Cyril. I do hope there's some handsome knight who will catch me before I strike the cold, hard ground."

TRUST FALL TIME. SURPRISE RILEY.

[eblouissant]

Wait, what... was His Royal Highness going to start a scene right here and now? Wait wait wait-- he glanced around to see if anyone was looking but he only had a quick one before he had to think on his feet and thrust his arms out to hopefully steady him.

There was no cumbersome armor; his sea fog blue doublet and his sage green cloak managed to bring out the blonde handsomeness of his features; A face that still had a bit of softness as childhood gave way to adulthood-- still he was strong and his arms would keep him from hitting the ground.

"Has anyone told you how dramatic you are?" And yet Riley still smiled which meant that the Knight was not upset by a long shot. "You will recieve a scolding if you do not have a care." He reached up to straighten the other man's cravat and that was an effort to be helpful and polite.

[giveanything]

Guillaume was not disappointed by Riley's sense of morality, that even though he was being a dramatic little shit, Riley still caught him and steadied him. So Liam leaned into those arms, though at least stopped the most dramatic part of his descent in his faux-swoon.

"I think someone or other has mentioned it a time or two." He was dramatic when he wanted to be, a playful streak that life had not yet damaged beyond repair in him. Trying to pretend he wasn't enjoying the feeling of those strong arms. Allowing himself to be steadied, he eventually settled back to his own two feet.

When Riley straightened the lace cravat around his neck, Liam realized the flaw in his plan when he felt the heat of a blush start rising in his cheeks. Oh. Right, he'd played himself a bit too. Looking aside, he summoned his best attempt at a laugh. "Oh heavens, not a scolding." Clearly not something Guillaume worried about at all. "Maybe I'm just destined to be a scoundrel."

[eblouissant]

Male friendship; straightening the cravat was not unseemly, considering that Guillaume was the Prince and he was but a loyal retainer-- the House of Valiase was noble in their own right but they had also been one step from the throne, their families so wedded together that it was impossible to separate them. If there had been a young lady in either family, a wedding would have been unavoidable.

But sadly, such was not the case.

Riley stepped back, his fingers still feeling the lace while he cast a look toward Liam, into those warm brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in; there was that quiver again-- coupled with the way that his heart beat at the mere sight of the Prince.

"I do not think you have it in you to be a scoundral, I see how you love your people, and the people love you-- also I think that if that were the case and you were a rake, I would have to pull you out of a tavern or a brothal, which I have not mind you."

[giveanything]

Guillaume did care deeply about his people, about the good of the kingdom. He'd seen his father rule, had seen how hard he worked to be a good leader, and well, maybe he'd internalized some of that as the right thing to do. What else was the point of wealth and title if it were not to do some good for those who who'd not acquired privilege by nothing more than the happenstance of their birth? He was young enough to still have his idealism.

He watched Riley step back, expression softening into the smile that being around the other boy always brought to his face. Riley was warm and sweet, the gentle sunshine of spring when the world first began to thaw, and everything in Liam wanted to bloom when caught in that glow.

They were in public, and Guillaume knew too well that eyes were always on him given his title. But somehow he couldn't quite help himself, setting a hand atop the one of Riley's fussing with his cravat.

"Maybe what I'm interested in isn't out there in some tavern. Or brothel." It wasn't, of course. It was standing directly in front of him. "Maybe I'm just waiting for a handsome knight to gift me a flower."

[eblouissant]

Oh.

There was something about the warmth of the Prince's hand that caused something inside of him to burst into a cavalcade of colours, all beautiful spring and grass-- of something beyond the intricacies of court life. That wayward lock of hair fell in Riley's eyes and his mouth formed that very same 'oh'. Riley did not have the same concept of right or wrong that the others did, which perhaps made him prime to act as Liam's advisor when the time came for him to step into the role.

Oh, he knew that things were frowned upon in public, but also that there were many people who engaged in such things in secret. Much as he had observed the bloomings of love between Sir Moreau and Lady Anora, so too did he notice other things; and he did not frown on them like his father would have.

Love, after all, was love. If you had the pleasure to feel it, it was a gift no matter what form it took. He was not talking about assignations, but honest and true love like you read in fairy tales.

"I am afraid I do not have a flower on me.: he said this quietly, not pulling back. Not really, that was a good sign of course, that he not flinch at such a conversation. "If I did, I would waste no time in offering it to a caring and noble Prince deserving of such things." because Liam deserved far more than flowers, he deserved the world and all that it entailed and thus it was never anything but a pleasure to serve the charming and handsome Prince.

In this moment, every single demisexual part of him started to bring into focus the exact way that he felt when Liam chose him to keep him company.

[giveanything]

Gods above and devils below, Riley was impossibly beautiful, the way that blond hair framed handsome features -- slowly losing some of that childhood softness as he stood on the edge of adulthood -- those eyes like a hazy summer sky, the way those lips formed that silent reaction. Liam wanted to kiss him. Liam had wanted to kiss him for a while now.

His heart was hammering away in his chest, as if he'd thrown himself off some high place and was in the midst of freefall. Maybe he wase. He'd been perhaps subtle enough that there could be some dismissing it as playing if Riley had recoiled, but that was not what had happened. They were still standing close, his hand still atop Riley's.

So here was Liam looking hopeful, in a held-breath way. Slowly a smile broke over his features, starting in his eyes and finding its way to his lips. "Would you really?" Soft and with maybe the hint of breathlessness in his voice. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to take that hand more securely in his and pull him onto the dancefloor. But neither of those were things he could do, not here and not now.

"Will you meet me later tonight? In the gardens? Our favorite spot?" The little secluded place that kept them out of the eyes of most everyone else, where they'd done everything from sparring with swords to poring over their lessons together or simply just existing in each others' presence, reading or watching the clouds. Or the stars.

[eblouissant]

Riley would have given anything to see Liam smile, that was the way that the world existed for him. Everything brought into relevance, why he existed in this world was to orbit the beauty that was his Prince and to act as his constant companion. This was not a proper conversation that they should be having in the middle of a crowded ballroom and with all eyes on them, and yet he could not draw away from it nor did he want to.

Despite the fact that he could see his mother bearing down on him through the crowds, probably to introduce him to another eligible lady, or else keep company with Lady Lyana once again to give more hope in that direction (of which there wasn't, they were merely friends and nothing more) so that he could fufill his mother's whims of having all blonde babies to preserve the line's aesthetic.

"I would, but I do not know what your favorite flower is...?"

His mother was now feet away, and then he drew his hand away but it was not a yank but a slip.. the tone of such a movement was reluctant as if he was rather gutted to let it go. His mother was quite in earshot when he spoke his acquiescence. "I will, your Highness; that way we may compare our mutual marriage prospects and vet them for each other." knowing that his mother would hear the term 'marriage prospects' and glow like a moth finding a new light source.

His eyes spoke more than his words did, they spoke the truth. That he would meet Liam in the gardens, in their favorite spot where the ivy latticed against the walls and made a nook from which they were hidden from the entire world; a nook with a bench and a perfect view of the night sky.

[giveanything]

Liam had led such a charmed life, and he knew that. He was fully aware of that privilege, how fortunate he was when others were not. He also knew that he was lucky to have the family that he did, that his world had been full of kindness that was sadly a rarity for too many. Even having Riley there by side, to know and trust and love the other boy as much as he did, that was a gift. He tried to remember not to take it for granted, or to be too put out when the nature of who he was and who Riley was meant that he had to let that hand slide away from him despite how much he wanted to hold it and lead Riley away from everyone else right her eand right now.

Still, it did mean that waiting until this evening was necessary, and he would try to be patient, to let himself be distracted by seeing to his own duties -- mostly being social and turning on the charm for the gathered gentry to try to reflect well on his father and the crown.

He tried to bite back the mischievous twist to his lips, the way it made his smile ever so slightly lopsided, as Riley went and threw marriage prospects out like catnip for his approaching mother. Liam ducked his head, all poise and propriety. "Until then, Sir Cyril. I look forward to the discussion. Give Lady Lyana my regards."

He looked up as Riley's mother arrived in their proximity. "Lady Valiase. A pleasure as always." Another proper inclination of his head, the sort of almost-bow he was expected to give as a Prince to the noble families of the court.

Turning to go, Liam paused long enough to glance back over his shoulder at Riley, offering the other a smile of the sort that seemed to be reserved entirely for him and him alone. "Forget-me-nots, incidentally." And with that he was off to see what gossip he could pick up, since that really was the most interesting part of these fancy occasions.

[eblouissant]

It was true that Riley knew exactly what to say to get his mother off his back, there were times of course when it was unavoidable such as the prodding to dance with the Lady that he had given the rose to-- (of course he'd had to be reminded, there had been no great thought that had gone into the gifting of that at the Tournament) but the promise of spending a few stolen moments with Liam, well he'd brave quite a few things for that.

It was something that he'd have to think on throughout the night, why that was.

Lady Raquel Valiase gave a far deeper curtsey to the young Prince, as was his station. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to give your own suggestions for his future, your Highness." as if the mother would not be delighted for a wife for Riley handpicked by the royal house.

Riley gave a bow in respect as Liam walked away, despite the fact that they were best friends-- he had to act with all due propriety, he knew well his place in this world. "I shall keep that in mind, Your Highness." and then after giving a few words to his mother, he went to seek out Lady Lyana who would at least provide entertaining and low-pressure company while still being seen with a woman while the rumors circulated that perhaps an announcement would come soon.

[giveanything]

"I have thought quite a bit about his future. Perhaps I'll share those thoughts later this evening," Liam promised, quite graciously, given that said thoughts definitely involved envisioning a future where Riley kissed him frequently.

Guillaume did manage to lock in with his princely duties. He was a social creature by nature, and while there were certainly parts of these kinds of gatherings that he found infuriatingly annoying -- mostly the obvious insincere fawning and obsequiousness that certain individuals thought would earn them some favor with the royal family -- he did find the whole spectacle of politics interesting. Who was connected to who and why. Animosity and loyalty. Old grudges and new alliances. It was fascinating, and the young prince had a knack for picking out the threads and patterns as they wove themselves into a tapestry.

Like he very much knew that Riley's mother was very keen on Lyana as a match for her son. He also knew that Riley's status as Prince Guillaume's closest and most trusted friend made him that much more obvious a target for social climbers, which did make him want to guard Riley from them. Because Sir Cyril was, if nothing else, a kind and gentle soul who ought to be protected from those who would take advantage of that warmth.

Either way, the rest of the party passed easily enough. Liam made a point to request the honor of dancing with several young women, just enough that his parents couldn't pin him down to having actual affection or intentions pinned to any one in particular. Honestly, he just liked dancing, and inviting his knight to dance was not exactly allowed.

That really ought to be changed.

Eventually the celebration would end, and he'd find his way to his chambers to shed the fancier garments and change into something simple and comfortable, the soft leather pants and loose linen shirts he favored when he was not required to be on duty. And then he'd make his way out to the gardens to wait for his handsome knight.

[eblouissant]

Riley made the rounds as well, though mainly with Lyana in tow; neither of them did anything to quell the rumors but they did not fan them either. It was a symbiotic relationship that the two had and perhaps it was because Riley knew that Lyana's own taste ran toward.. well the more feminine qualities, but she could go arm and arm with a young lady and not have it remarked upon.

However finally they parted as the evening was drawing to a close; it was close to 3 AM, most would be leaving the palace though Riley did not live that far away from the palace himself and it would be a pleasant walk back. What he did do was shed the waistcoat to reveal a white linen shirt that was unfussy, and then rolled it up in his cloak as he made the walk into the palace gardens.

He did stop by, he knew quite well where the forget-me-nots were located, and he plucked a few of them, but also some sweet smelling peonies as well, both pink and blue and both meant devotion. And then with that he started down the little footpath and toward the little hidden area that they would not be disturbed in the slightest.

Honestly, Riley did not know what he expected also-- there was that queer anticipation going through him, like he was on the edge of something and he did not know quite what it was. While at the party he'd managed to forget about the undercurrents of what had been meant and wondering if they meant anything other than.. well-- loyalty and a patriotic affection, on Liam's part.

Riley knew what he felt, it had awakened like butterfly wings and started to flutter downward into both his stomach as well upward into his throat. Finally he slipped through the little latticed frame and came into view of the bench, a smile on his face. Almost immediately he noticed that Liam had changed into something more casual. "I bet you are relieved to get out of that finery."

[giveanything]

Liam had been pacing with the grace and unflappable composure of a caged tiger on the world's most intense sugar rush -- so not even a little of either. His mind was racing. He'd felt so brave in that moment, surrounded by all those people, treading onto ground he'd been standing at the edge of for what felt like ages.

He'd only half said things, he realized, intimated and hinted and laced a love poem between the lines, but it had been very much unspoken. What if Riley hadn't really understood what he'd meant, hadn't heard that yearning in each and every word?

A pause as he heard Riley's approach, and immediately stopped the pacing and summoned up every ounce of confidence and bravado that he could possibly muster, trying for the usual casual ease that he wore wrapped around him like his most comfortable cloak. It was subtle armor, perhaps, but Liam had learned to don it at a very young age. He leaned a hip against the wooden lattice work behind the bench. Totally no anxious mess here. Nope. Totally cool. Calm. Except his heart was racing and his stomach was full of fluttering as Riley stepped into view.

"For as expensive as those clothes are, you would think they could make them more comfortable and less suffocating."

Pushing himself up from the artful lean and stepped closer to Riley, the start of a tentative and hopeful smile on his face. "I'm glad you came."

[eblouissant]

"Of course I would come, how could I not?" he said with a soft smile, wondering but also hesitant and unsure. "Besides, after an evening circling the ballroom it is nice to get a little bit of fresh air-- you would think that some nobles are allergic to bathing, no matter how expensive cologne is, you should always bathe."

A tongue in cheek answer even as he saw the way that Liam approached, his own heart hammering in his chest at the thought that they were here even now alone. It felt far more intimate, as if his very soul was on the line-- while he attempted to decipher what it all meant. But he had at least caught something and that was the forget-me-nots. Therefore he raised his hand of which held in it blooms plucked from the very royal garden itself.

Shhhh, do not tell anyone that.

He offered it with a smile that mirrored the tentative in Liam's own. "I also added Peony's.. they are my favorite flower." and then with a very careful half bow, he offered it to Liam.

"Would you accept these flowers, handsome Prince.. and name me as your Champion?"

[giveanything]

That earned a laugh from Liam, nodding his agreement. "Perhaps we shall include that as part of the invitation for the next ball -- bathing prior to attendance is mandatory." He'd bring that one up to his father. Riley was so good at that, at making him laugh, disarming any of the anxiety that he pretended so valiantly that he did not have, setting him at ease.

One of the many reasons he was in love with him, he supposed.

Then Riley offered up the flowers.

Oh.

Liam's eyes widened at the flowers, at the bow and the bouquet and at Riley, speaking such beautiful words and stealing the breath from Liam's lungs, and for a moment at least, the words from his lips.

He took the flowers, fingertips touching over the small blue forget-me-nots and the larger infinitely soft peonies with their heavier blooms. They were beautiful together, he noted, as he found his voice again.

"How could I refuse? I'd name you my Champion, my brave and dashing knight." In for a penny in for a pound. Deep breath. And leap. "And my love."

[eblouissant]

Liam laughing made him laugh, it was the sound of it all carefree and beautiful that brought that curving tilt to his lips, and he felt a deep sense of satisfaction that he had caused that sort of delighted reaction in the other man, though he was not one where charm came to him effortlessly.

Most people thought he was charming because he was quiet and allowed them to speak, his words being carefully thought out-- he did not waste them if he had to. Not quite the strong and silent type, more like calm and meditative.

The words uttered by Liam though, his throat immediately went dry and he felt his entire world go topsy-turvy. But in a good way, it managed to upend itself into something that felt right, settled in there as those butterflies calmed for just a moment. "I.. am your love?" he knew that there was only one way, it could be only one way with the utterance and yet still he had to have it confirmed for he did not want to assume.

Always did what was right, and more often times he could acknowledge that doing what was right did not go alongside the right that was declared proper; it was like he had a second sight for that nuance, being able to choose the right path even if it was not the lauded correct one. "I would like that.. to be that, that is."

[giveanything]

Riley asked the question, and for a moment Liam had to bite back the panic that he had read this wrong after all. Except in the next fraction of a second, he could see the way that Riley was looking at him, could hear the gentle tone of that voice.

And then his Riley went and said it plainly, and any lingering fear he had shattered into nothing, motes of light that flickered and twinkled in his heart, setting it aglow in a way that he thought might be permanent. He smiled again, taking a moment to lift the bouquet up, to breathe in the sweet fragrance of the blossoms, peeking over them at the handsome blond.

"You are. You have been. I think you always will be." It was a hopelessly romantic notion, maybe, but the prince was a romantic at heart, not so deep down.

[eblouissant]

Oh no, that was the singularly most beautiful thing that anyone had ever said to him and it meant so much coming from the Prince. He had never really been interested in anyone before, not really but perhaps that was because there was a silent glowing candle holding space for the Prince in his heart. He chewed on his lower lip, and slight dork that he was, he smiled as he did so.

"I am honoured by your affection and I return it. My mother laments that I do not take an interest in the young ladies introduced but I think that..." he chose his words so very carefully here, "I must know someone to love them, to find them attractive and-- you are my dearest friend and there is no one else I am interested in, save for you."

As eloquently as he was able to make it while he clasped his hands together, not knowing what the next step was or even to know what to do after this admittance.

[giveanything]

Oh. Oh he was a dork, and wasn't that impossibly endearing? Liam was, and long had been, entirely charmed by Riley. There was something beautifully sincere about the other man, always so precise and intentioned with the words he spoke, never full of false flattery or empty effusiveness.

Liam's heart leapt up into his throat. Riley returned his affections. He felt dizzy, as if the world had suddenly decided to spin so much faster than it normally did. But it was a thrilling feeling, as if everything was suddenly brighter than it ever had been before.

He reached out a hand towards Riley, beckoning, invitation. "Then maybe my envy at your various dance partners can be soothed. Just a little." Dark eyes were full of playfulness, but there was a bit of honesty in the words as well.