Alex blinked at the prostitute, confused. What kind of question was that?
"Why are you asking me?"
"Because you said that name earlier. William. Didn't you notice?"
Of course not!
Sasha shot him a mischievous look. "So? Who is he? A special friend?"
"No one. He's just… someone I argued with."
"Hmm. Must've been quite the argument if he stuck in your mind so much that you shouted his name while I was fucking you."
"He's a hard man to forget."
Sasha's lips curved into a teasing smile. "Is he the guy waiting for you downstairs?"
"No!"
"Sounds like a yes to me."
Alex rubbed his forehead. How was he supposed to explain they were just coworkers?
"Fine. His name is William, but it's not what you think. We're colleagues. We spend most of our time arguing, and I definitely don't want to take him to bed. He's frigid, uptight, and irritating; he hates sex, and he's always trying to ruin my fun."
Sasha smiled. "And yet you said his name. You sure you don't like him?"
"Of course I'm sure!"
He wanted to strangle William far more often than they got along. It was as if the ordeal at the hunting reserve hadn't left much of a trace on their relationship.
Maybe risking their lives was the only way they could stop fighting.
Sasha stood up and kissed him.
"I'm not jealous anyway. You can say all the names you want when you're with me. And imagine whoever you like."
Alex pouted. "You put me in a bad mood."
"I didn't mean to."
The prostitute traced a line along Alex's neck with his tongue and playfully bit him near the shoulder.
"Then I'll just have to make it up to you with another treat."
He moved between Alex's legs, leaned over his abdomen, and shot him a sultry look.
"No." The prince stopped him. "It's not necessary. I'm satisfied as I am."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Really, I… have to go."
Alex wasn't in the mood anymore, and the thought of having left William alone downstairs made him feel guilty. He shouldn't even have suggested coming along—what kind of man did that make him?
Not to mention he kept thinking about him, even now, with good company. The mage's serious face, those poison-green eyes, and that mole under his eye were lodged in his mind and refused to leave.
He got dressed and went downstairs.
William was waiting for him in the entrance hall, still sitting on a small couch. His head was lowered, and his cloak rested, folded, on his knees.
Alex smiled, glad for some reason that he was still there.
"I didn't think you'd actually wait for me."
The mage lifted his head and gave him a strange look. He seemed… shaken.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
William stood, walked up to him, and slapped him across the face.
The sound of the blow echoed through the building.
Heat flared across Alex's cheek up to his cheekbone, followed by a sharp tingling and a pulsing ache under the skin.
Alex's eyes flew wide. He brought a hand to his face and stared at William—bewildered at first, then furious.
Had he seriously just slapped him?
"What the hell is wrong with you? Have you forgotten who I am?"
William pressed his lips together, despair flickering in his green eyes. Then he looked down at his own hand, as if only now realizing what he'd done, and pressed it to his mouth.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
He turned away from him and walked out of the brothel.
Alex felt the owner's stinging gaze on his back and the whispers of those around them. He didn't want to make a scene, but that slap had hurt.
He clenched his fists; anger and irritation prickled under his skin.
"Shit."
He left the building and ran after William. He wasn't about to let that show of disrespect slide.
"Stop! That's an order, William. Stop right now!"
The mage froze in the middle of the street, but he didn't turn to look at him.
Alex walked past him. "Follow me."
After drawing attention at the brothel, the last thing he wanted was to attract more of it out on the street.
He led William into a side alley, where they could yell at each other without risking being recognized. Then turned to face him.
"Explain to me why you slapped me."
"Because… you disgust me."
Alex bit his lip and swallowed down the shout he wanted to hurl at him.
"You're disgusted by me?"
"Yes."
"Because I have sex?"
"Yes."
He let that last accusation roll off him and drew in a deep breath to calm himself.
"You have no right to accuse me of something like that, or to slap me. I am your prince."
William lowered his head even more, as if trying to escape his gaze.
And it was strange. Until that moment, he had always looked him in the eyes—why hide now?
But why should he care about that frigid mage anyway?
"If you don't like fucking, that's your problem, William. But you have no right to force your will on me."
"And you have no right to involve me."
Alex raised his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"
"You… the bond… I felt everything. So it's your fault. For making me feel dirty again."
He had… felt everything?
The mage stepped back. "I'm going back to the palace. Punish me however you wish for the slap."
"Wait!"
Alex grabbed him by the wrist, and for an instant William looked at him with terror in his eyes.
Then he lowered his head, the green of his eyes turning dull, his gaze lost as if trapped in some distant memory. His breath broke in his throat, again and again.
"William?"
He didn't answer, as if he wasn't even there anymore.
"Will?"
William brought a hand to his mouth as though trying to stifle the sobs and pull himself together. But his fingers were trembling and his wide eyes still didn't see him. His shoulders shook, heavy tears slipping down his cheeks.
Alex didn't understand what was happening to him, but something twisted in his chest.
He wasn't okay.
Not at all.
"William."
He brushed William's cheek, but the mage recoiled from his touch. The look he gave him was that of a man on the verge of breaking.
Alex withdrew his hand. "I won't touch you again, I swear, but look at me. Stay with me."
William pressed both hands over his mouth as another sob tore through his chest, and slowly shook his head. Then his eyes came back into focus on him, and whatever small part of him was still intact shattered.
His legs gave out, and Alex caught him by the arms just in time to keep him from falling.
He held him close as William collapsed into desperate tears, sinking onto the cobblestones with him.
He wasn't even angry about the slap anymore. In that moment he only wanted to hold him tight and keep him from shattering like broken glass.
But he couldn't stop wondering what wounds William was carrying inside.
--------------------------
The return to the palace unfolded in silence.
William didn't want to talk, and Alex didn't want to ask. Whatever pain their argument had dredged up, he had no right to demand answers.
It would have been easy to lean on his authority as a prince, but he didn't want obedience from William.
He wanted closeness. He wanted someone he could trust.
If necessary, he'd wait until the end of time, but he would let William decide if and when to show him his wounds.
They parted ways in the wide entrance hall, at the foot of the staircase leading to the upper floors. William didn't even look at him as he walked away.
"William?"
The mage stopped, his shoulders rigid and hunched, as if he were trying to disappear.
Alex scratched the back of his neck, unsure what to say. "I… well…"
"There's no need." William looked at him with empty, lifeless eyes. "Pretend it never happened. And punish me for the slap. It doesn't matter."
Then he headed toward the western wing, where his room was.
Alex remained still, his hand half-extended toward him, until William disappeared from sight.
It would have been easy to grab his wrist again, but he feared he would shatter him all over again. Maybe the best thing was really to let him go.
And yet, the thought of not being at his side carved a hollow ache in Alex's chest.
"Is it my fault?"
He wasn't sure what had happened. He only knew that something between them had broken, and that maybe he was the one to blame.
Alex raked a hand through his hair and made his way toward his mother's apartments. He needed to talk to someone who wouldn't judge him.
He knocked at her study and waited for a lady-in-waiting to open it.
But it was Queen Victoria herself who did.
"Alex! What are you doing here?"
"Can I talk to you, Mom?"
She smiled and let him in. "Of course, sweetheart. You never bother me, you know that."
Alex stepped inside and sat in an armchair in the small sitting room. He glanced toward the desk and the letters his mother had been writing.
"Who are you replying to?"
"I'm helping your father with the correspondence to the border forts."
"Try not to overwork yourself."
His mother brought a hand to her mouth and laughed. "Sweetheart, I gave birth to five children. Writing letters and putting arrogant nobles in their place is nothing compared to that."
Alex blushed and lowered his gaze to his hands. The warm light of dusk painted his skin a disturbing blood-red.
"Alex?"
His mother knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers.
"My dear, what happened?"
"I…" He swallowed, forcing down the tight knot in his throat. "I think I hurt someone."
"…What do you mean?"
"He's suffering a lot, and I might be the cause."
He hid his face in his hands, bit down on his lip, and swallowed the pain.
His mother stood and wrapped her arms around him. Her ink-stained fingers brushed his hair the way they had when he was a child.
"It's all right, sweetheart. Breathe slowly."
"I'm afraid I ruined everything."
"I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose." She kissed the top of his head. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Alex wiped his eyes, regained a bit of composure, and began to speak.