Palette stood hunched over, his hands braced on his knees as he panted from the effort his magic had demanded of him and the energy he had expended. Using magic at a consistent rate was way harder than he ever would have anticipated; it gave him a new sense of respect for Goth and the control they had exuded when summoning a veritable platoon of constructs while he was struggling with three.

Despite his inexperience, he wouldn't let it hold him back from improving himself; being the strongest meant he would have to work from the ground up to master his magic.

Finally catching his breath, he asked, "Hah... how was that?" There was no answer, prompting him to straighten his back and turn around, "Goth?" His friend was leaning against a pillar, staring out at the constructs still littering the field with a far-off look; their grave expression and guarded posture suggested something was bothering them. "Goth!" He raised his voice, startling his companion out of their trance, "Hey, is everything okay? You look kind of pale."

"Yes," Goth was smiling, but it was one of placation rather than genuine cheer, "I was lost in thought. I apologize for my absentmindedness, would you mind repeating your words?"

The response did nothing to quell his worries; something was going on and Goth wasn't saying anything for some reason... it felt like he was being pushed out again. He debated pressing further if not for the growing unease on his friend's face; instead, he donned a reassuring smile and said, "It's okay, I was thinking it might be time for a break since we've been practicing for a while now."

Goth blinked in confusion, then glanced toward the treeline as if only just noticing the time, "Ah, yes...a well-earned feast should be awaiting us in the dining hall. Let's gather our belongings and be off."

Reaching down, the prince picked up the tablet and handed it to Palette before putting their capelet back on. They started on the path to the dining hall as he began to wonder what would be served tonight; after the rigorous workout he had, he hoped it was something hearty.

Right, he never got an answer on how he did; he opened his mouth to ask, only to find Goth lost in thought while staring at the unlit sconces. Did he not like that it was getting dark? Moving closer for comfort, he softly asked, "So how do you think I did?"

"Hmm?" Goth's skull swiveled around, his eye light regaining its brightness as he processed the question. "Oh, yes... you successfully summoned multiple constructs and were able to strike stationary targets at a distance when utilizing two constructs at once," the monster listed off the accomplishments, sounding a bit proud as he concluded, "I believe you did quite well for having never summoned more than one construct or used them as projectiles. With more practice on focus and endurance, you'll certainly be able to compress your constructs enough to create solid blockades in time." He opened his mouth to say something else, but his eye light shifted away as he mumbled, "if you happen to find time to spare in the future, I wouldn't mind helping you work toward your goals once again."

Excited by the suggestion, Palette happily exclaimed, "Yeah, that would be awesome!" Thinking over his schedule, night patrol would interfere with the next three to four days... unless he could find someone to cover those shifts. "I might be busy over the next couple of days, but I'll let you know when I'm free again." Goth nodded in acceptance. The door to the dining hall came into view as another question popped into his mind, "By the way, how long did it take you to get a handle on this stuff?"

"Do you mean summoning constructs or creating barriers?" Goth asked.

"Both," Palette clarified, "You made a ton of bones earlier like it was nothing and the last time I saw you using barriers, you looked like you didn't even have to think about it."

Mmmm...," Goth's eye light lifted toward the ceiling in thought, "I believe a day for summoning and a little more than a week to create a satisfactory barrier." He seemed to realize something at that moment, "Keep in mind, my training took place during my younger years when my magic was still developing and far more malleable; your fully developed magic may pose a greater challenge."

"That just means I'll have to try harder," Palette reached for the handle, wrenching the door open with a slow creak so they could pass into the crowded room, "I'll definitely have it down in a week!"

"There's no doubt in my mind," Goth chuckled as he followed them into the room. The prince turned to him, their expression practically glowing with confidence, "with how dedicated you are, I'm certain you'll succeed."

Palette felt like his face had been lit on fire and his soul was doing flips in his chest; was he coming down with something? Covering his mouth and turning away in case he threw up, he tried to figure out what was happening. His first thought was to assume he had exercised too much, but this felt different from overexertion and there was no nausea that he could pinpoint; just a sudden heat and lightheadedness that started when Goth smiled at him...

Realizing he was probably worrying his friend with his sudden behavior, Palette took a breath and turned to apologize, only to see Goth a good few feet away ascending the stairs of the raised platform where the rest of the royal family were seated. Watching the prince approach the table, Her Highness gave them a stern glare and said something he couldn't hear over the din of the hall. The smaller skeleton looked downtrodden in their reply, but the woman said something else that had Elise's face scrunching up in irritation-

"Hey!" An arm was draped over his shoulder, drawing his attention to Xander, "You finally made it; I saved you a seat." As he was pulled over to an empty spot on a bench, he saw the table was littered with empty bowls, pots of beef and vegetable stew, and mountains of bread spread out every few feet down the center. Setting his tablet down and leaning over the table, he reached for a bowl as his friend asked, "So where did you run off to after practice?"

Scooping the stew into his bowl, he answered, "Goth and Elise were talking nearby, so I went to say hi."

"You really shouldn't keep getting involved with them," Xander grumbled, pointing at the tablet with his spoon, "What's that?"

Palette's mood soured, already having heard this conversation before, "I already told you they're not like that; Goth was actually helping me learn to use my magic for fighting." Pulling the tablet closer to himself, he hesitantly added, "... and this was a gift."

"You're accepting bribes now?" Xander quietly exclaimed in disbelief.

"It's not a bribe," Palette denied, clenching the spoon in his hand, "I showed interest in his writing tablet and he offered to get me one so I could practice writing."

Xander scoffed as he leaned into the table and crossed his arms, "You know, I thought it was kinda funny at first, but all this special treatment you're getting's gonna put you in a dangerous position if people start noticing."

Huffing in frustration, Palette glanced to the raised platform as he reiterated, "I told you it's not... like..." 

All thoughts of argument flew out of his mind as he took in Goth's pallid complexion; the strained smile and guarded posture; how they were squeezing the bread in their lightly trembling hands while carrying on what appeared to be a casual conversation with their sister... it was as if the prince was one step away from a panic attack and doing everything in their power to hide it. "Something's wrong," he rumbled.

"Are y- what?" Xander sounded incredulous, "What are you talking about?"

"Earlier, Goth seemed really distracted and now he looks scared," Palette explained, guilt worming its way through him for not noticing before now.

"Maybe he has something to feel guilty about..."

Palette's attention snapped over to Xander, his fists clenching, "And what's that supposed to mean?" If he was insinuating Goth had done something wrong-

"Woah!" the fellow knight raised their hands in surprise, "I was just throwing out a possibility; I didn't mean anything by it, chill." As Palette relaxed his shoulders, his friend released an exasperated sigh, "Jeez... the way you behave, I'd think you're in love with him if I didn't know better."

His retort died in his throat as he processed his friend's words. Love... was he in love with Goth? 

He didn't have a lot of experience since his biological parents had only been together for convenience until his dad decided to travel the world, but he had seen his mom and Cross together for a few years; during that time, they had spent a lot of time together, talked a lot about various things, shared in chores and hobbies, held hands when walking together, cuddled as the evenings wound down, kissed when they thought they were alone, and even had his stepsister together. The thought of holding, or even kissing Goth made his skull spin; the heat from before blazed on his face with renewed vigor. Given the new context, he could now identify that he was becoming flustered... that he was in love.

Maybe this was what people meant when they talked about being 'lovesick'.

"Are you kidding me?!" Palette felt himself being wrenched sideways; Xander had grabbed a fistful of his shirt and was now in his face, frantically hissing, "Do you have any idea what could happen to you if anyone in authority finds out you've fallen for him of all people?! At best, you would only be thrown out of the guard; if you catch them on a bad day, you could be thrown in the dungeon or even executed!"

"Execution?" Palette's eye sockets widened; he knew class hierarchy was a thing, but to go that far? "Why would something as innocent as loving someone be so bad?"

Xander's expression soured, "Peasants don't court royals; it's just not done. Princes and princesses don't marry for love, either; they marry for power, wealth, and to 'keep the bloodline pure'. A knight with no status or wealth would never be able to compete." His friend sighed, their eyes softening, "Look, Lord Goth isn't in line to become king anymore and he's already come of age; even if he did happen to like you that way, which is a long shot, it wouldn't be his choice. He'll probably get shipped off to another kingdom and marry their princess within the next year or two to either forge a loyalty pact or secure some economic deal. You throwing a wrench into the kingdom's political affairs would be considered a threat to those plans, which means you need to let go of this infatuation now before someone finds out and tries to 'fix' the problem permanent-like."

The more Xander spoke, the more Palette's soul ached. Thinking back, Goth had spoken of their duty to the kingdom and seemed resigned to it, even as a child; had he known back then that this was part of that duty? All this time, had his friend really been nothing more than a pawn to be used when the time was right; born only to become a means to an end? 

"That's...," the words became caught in his throat; it was just so tragic that they couldn't do his feelings justice.

"Wha-!" Xander seemed shocked as he breathed, "dude, are you crying?"

Quickly scrubbing at his face, Palette cleared his throat to speak, "I-" Movement from the front of the room silenced him as Goth rose from their seat and said something to Elise; the veiled distress was still there, but the younger sibling wore a genial smile as the older walked away and made a beeline toward one of the exits. In an impulse decision, he grabbed a pair of rolls to make up for his abandoned meal, shoved them into his pocket, and slung his legs out from the bench, "I have to go."

"What? Why-," Xander tried to question him, but he was already halfway to the door he entered from and the noise of the hall drowned everything else out. Exiting into the crisp evening air, he made his way to the end of the corridor to peek down the adjacent hallway; it was empty, meaning the prince had gone in the other direction.

Jogging the length of the hall, he just managed to catch the flutter of a white robe turning the corner; continuing his pace, he was surprised and confused to see Goth once again rounding the corner. Increasing his speed, he missed the smaller skeleton at two more corridors before he was stopped short at the third by a wall of bones summoned by his out-of-breath friend.

***

Word Count: 2,192