Chapter Warnings: Mild blood (marrow)

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"... H... ...ould b... ...ne .... Go... ...nt in... ...ock ... ...ld let h... ...st..."

That was... the high-pitched voice from before... but why was it so muddled despite sounding so close? Between the heaviness of his body and the fog trying to drag his mind back under, Goth was barely even able to register the pool of warmth around his right arm. He groaned, willing his sockets to open in hopes of figuring out what was happening.

"He... ...ing up!"

Finally winning the fight, Goth's hazy eye light scanned the dimly lit room. Palette and an armored woman sat on his left side with Meryl on the right; a small green glow surrounded the girl's hands, which were hovering over his bandaged arm... it was healing magic, he realized.

"Goth, you're okay!" Palette cried, throwing himself on top of the skeleton; the warm feeling on his arm vanished.

"S... space...," the small monster gasped, clenching his socket shut against the excess weight pressing down on him. Palette jumped off as if he had been bitten, briskly apologizing as he did so. Goth took a shuddering breath as he replied, "s'fine... are you alright? What happened to the attacker?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. You're the only one who got hurt," Palette responded, wiping at his sockets.

The woman next to him spoke up, "The assassin was apprehended and taken into custody after being removed from the prince's bed-chamber; we believe the man was part of the group that attacked the queen and the prince's carriage over three months ago. After we arrived, you went into shock from your injury. The healer arrived as you fainted, and you were moved to the sickbay to recover after she stopped the bleeding."

Her brown eyes took on a hard edge, "I was notified by Prince Palette that you took on the assassin by yourself." Goth nodded slowly, wondering where she was going with this... was he in trouble? The thought was put to rest as she proclaimed, "That's admirable. You showed the kind of loyalty and grit I like to see in my own soldiers, but you lack the strength and skill to back it up." She stood from her seat, thumping her hand against the metal plate covering her chest, "My name is Helleia, Captain of the Royal Guard and I wish to proposition you on becoming one of my students; doing so would allow you to dispatch any threats against yourself as well as the prince. What say you?"

He played with the idea; while he was small and could hardly consider himself a strong monster, Palette had only escaped unscathed because he got in the way... what would have happened if he wasn't there or if the guards had arrived later than they did...? His companion had also been upset over his injury, so if getting stronger could ease their worries... there was another thing to consider as well.

"Would I have to give up my position as Pa- the prince's servant?" He questioned the guard.

Palette looked surprised, "Goth?"

The woman mulled over his words, then stated, "Since it sounds like the idea doesn't appeal to you, no; your training would be done in a way that doesn't interfere with your regular duties. A servant being a bodyguard in disguise doesn't sound too bad, come to think of it."

Goth nodded his skull with a set expression, "Alright, then what would I need to do?"

Helleia grinned, "I like that look."

"But what if you get hurt again?" Palette clenched his fists into his marrow-stained nightgown.

Staring at his previously injured arm, Goth reasoned, "If I got hurt because I didn't know how to fight back, then learning would fix the problem, right?" The prince made a face, but didn't seem to have any rebuttals.

"Well put," Helleia praised, "It's settled, then. We'll begin your training once that arm's fixed up. I'll warn you though, I don't pull punches; you'll be training to defend your charge with your very life, so you better come prepared." Goth nodded, leaving the woman to exit the room with a satisfied smile.

"Goth, are you sure you're going to be okay?" Palette questioned with furrowed sockets.

"Yeah, my arm doesn't even hurt anymore," he reassured them, lightly raising the arm that had been placed in a crude sling while he had been unconscious as proof.

"Not just that, but the fighting thing too...," Palette murmured, almost at a whisper; his wavering eye lights were cast down, his hands bunching up his marrow-stained gown, "If you got hurt again... and earlier, why did you put yourself in front of me like that anyway?"

Goth's mind went blank and his mouth open and shut as if he were a stranded fish trying to take in air, "Because... I... you... you're important... you're... ah..."

The small skeleton desperately wished he had his scarf so he could hide his face from the prince's expectant stare. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell them how he really felt; he was only a servant! He had no status or boons to offer a member of royalty; no one would ever accept someone like him as Palette's equal... and even if the people somehow accepted him, there was no way his feelings would be reciprocated! Goth was a friend and nothing more-

"You love him," Meryl announced. Goth's eye light shrunk to a pinprick.

The room became deathly silent in the wake of the accusation... until Palette finally reacted, "... Is that true?" Goth's eye light flicked over to the prince; their expression was unreadable.

How did she know? A better question, how could she out him like that!? Was she trying to get him in trouble? She seemed to like Palette, so it was possible she was trying to sabotage their friendship. Goth's face burned traitorously as he struggled to avoid the words that would undoubtedly shatter his soul once he spoke them aloud and was rejected, "... I... well... maybe... but I... um... I-"

Every retort in his mind died in away at the feeling of Palette's mouth on his. Time seemed to blur and Goth's disbelief dissolved into elation as he arched up into the kiss. His sockets slid shut, left hand grasping their sleeve to pull them deeper into the kiss... he never wanted it to end...

When they finally pulled away, Goth laid back against the pillow. As he gasped for breath in a daze, Palette's starry eye lights locked onto him with stony determination, "What you did earlier was reckless and scared me half to death. When you fainted, I thought I was losing you; I never want that to happen again. If you plan on fighting for me, then you better become the strongest so you can win for me because I love you too and I'll never forgive you if you die for me."

Warmth swelled in Goth's ribcage to match the heat in his face as he nodded his skull numbly in response.

"I can get on board with this." Both skeletons jumped at Meryl's voice, belatedly remembering she was still in the room with a sly grin was plastered across her face.

Goth managed to find his voice first, "... But I thought you liked him."

"I did," she shrugged as Palette gaped at her, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a crush on him... but I've seen how the prince acts around you; the difference is like night and day. Even before he lost his memories, he never interacted with anyone the way he did with you. I knew on top of being a servant, I would never be able to hold a candle to the connection you two seemed to have... so I gave up. Also, you both make a ridiculously adorable couple."

The pair blushed brighter and Goth countered, "But I'm a servant, too... the king and his people would never accept-"

"Then don't tell them," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "At least, not until Prince Palette succeeds the throne; at that point, he'll be the final authority and no one will be able to counter his decision even if they do object. Until then, I can help you keep it a secret."

Her focus switched to Palette, "Goth's smart and picks things up quickly; I know since I guided him on becoming a servant. You've been relearning what it takes to become a king; if you help him learn about the politics of being a ruler as well, the people won't be able to deny his worth and it will ease them into the idea once you decide to make your relationship public."

The taller skeleton gulped, nodding his skull, "I'm willing to give it a shot... as long as Goth wants to, that is."

The monster in question was faced with two pairs of eyes awaiting his choice. "I...," Goth swallowed, steeling his resolve, "I know it'll probably be hard, but I want to have a future beside you, Palette. Let's do it."

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Word Count: 1,505