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Simon Edstrom was quite the character, as one of his classmates, Thomas, phrased it. He was from an incredibly small town in Sweden no one had ever heard of (not that any of his friends knew that much about Sweden anyway). He was participating in an exchange program at his university in Sweden that had brought him to the US for a year, where he had quickly integrated effortlessly. Most of his classmates had immediately started to befriend him, that was just what he was like, and he had ended up with a pretty decent-sized friend group. He did a double major in music and Spanish, and the second was the topic of loads of jokes and teasing in his friend group. It did seem a bit unfair that he could study a language he was fluent in, but no matter the teasing, all his classmates were extremely grateful that there was someone who could help them. Other than that, the first thing people noticed about him were his good looks and exquisite fashion sense which always included tons of jewellery that most people were sure was real precious metal. And the diamond studs he sometimes wore didn’t look that fake either. His expensive clothing style standing in contrast with his more than humble background made people wonder, but he had the ability to lead the conversation away from the topic as soon as someone asked him about his personal life in Sweden. Simon Edstrom was a mystery, but that only made him even more fascinating.
Before his first music lecture at the new university had even started, his classmates had heard Simon sing in one of the studios. It had been a quick try-out of a new song he had written on the plane a few days prior, and since he had been told that the studios were open to all students, he just had to try it out. The fifteen students including their professor that watched him doing so went unnoticed by him until he had finished. He had to take vocal lessons and training; they had thought. The man standing behind the microphone was practically made to perform on a stage. Great was the surprise when they found out that he was in fact part of their own class, focusing on music production. Everyone had silently agreed that this was a great loss for the whole world of music. This perception got only stronger after they found out that the song had been written by Simon himself. Simon spent his days watching other people sing his lyrics and sometimes there was something sad in his eyes while doing so, but it was rarely there and noticed by others even less. Most of the time he was content with it. Secretly he knew why he would never be able to stand on a stage to sing, he would spend his life in the spotlight because of something else, because of someone else, and Wille was worth it to have a music career that was way different than the one he had dreamed about years ago. But his classmates obviously didn’t know that. Them not knowing anything was the whole reason for the exchange year after all. One last year without anyone knowing him, Wille had said, and he had been right. No matter how much Simon missed the other man who was stuck in meeting after meeting across the Atlantic, it was relieving to be an anonymous person again. Back in Sweden, he had not been for a long time, and he would never be again. But on another continent, the news of Sweden’s Royal Family was nothing anyone knew or cared about. At least until he would return.
On a Monday morning, a third-year Spanish class had to find out that their most beloved classmate and friend Simon was late for their lecture. The professor had been staring at the empty seat disapprovingly for twenty minutes when the man finally dashed into the lecture hall, not even bothering to knock. His hair was completely tousled, his clothing way too ordinary for who was wearing them, and even crumpled as if he had slept in it. “Sorry, I overslept, jetlag” was his mumbled answer to the teacher before falling into his seat, eyes only half open. Another weird thing, the whole room was pretty sure that they had never seen the Simon Edstrom without eyeliner before, not even his close friends. Professor Wheller did not seem pleased by the man’s explanation, even though he was undoubtingly their favourite student. “Why on earth would you have jetlag Simon? I am pretty sure you didn’t just fly to the other end of the world during the weekend.” Simon seemed to only hear half the sentence but non the less answered. “I had to fly home, family emergency.” Home always meant Sweden, the whole class, and literally everyone who had ever talked to Simon knew that. Suddenly the professor seemed almost ashamed of their rude questioning. They quickly changed the topic back to the lecture and the incident was forgotten for some time.
Their friend group had a tradition to meet up for lunch every Wednesday. Ever since Simon had quickly gotten to be a part of it, he was obviously invited too. They had already spent countless lunches trying to find out anything about Simon’s life that did not include music, his mum and sister, or his extended family in Venezuela. They had asked about his father once and from the way his face had fallen, and the short-cut replies they had received for the rest of the day, they knew to not do so again. It had quickly gotten through to all of them that Simon's father was not a topic to be talked about even though they could plaster together a vague picture from comments Simon had made during the months. On the rare occasion that Sophia let an unsensible question slip, even the other ones were now used to changing the topic. Another thing was the whole rest of his life. He never talked about his friends back home except for two of them he had grown up with. He never let anything slip about his love life, no matter how much they tried. They were pretty sure that he was gay, but he had never confirmed nor denied literally anything when it came to his sexuality. In conclusion, they did not know anything about possible partners, only that he solemnly refused all their attempts to get him a hookup, no matter the gender. This indicated that he was in a relationship, but no one had ever succeeded in getting him to tell them about it, not even Nora, who was otherwise like an FBI agent trying to get a suspect to talk. And there was yet another thing. Simon lived in a small flat not far from campus on his own. No one knew how he could even afford that, considering he did not have a job, but since he also wore necklaces made from real gold, no one was really surprised. Only some members of their friend group had ever been at his place when he had just moved in and there were still countless boxes standing all around. Since then, all their gatherings had happened somewhere else, until one day Simon’s flat was the only option. He seemed nervous about them seeing his flat and promptly got teased about it by Sophia and Nora, both classmates of his from Spanish.
When they arrived at Simon’s flat, five people in total, three from his Spanish course, and two from his music course, they were greeted by a very stressed-looking man. Simon had his hair up in a bun, loose strands fixed with hair clamps and his gaze was more restless than usual. He constantly looked around as if searching for something while he led them to the living room and not even the usual chatting and teasing seemed to get him to relax. The whole flat was cosy, with countless ornaments decorating the open gaps in the bookshelves, books lying around on the coffee table, and a jumper discarded on the sofa. The only weird thing was the wall next to the TV. There had clearly been hanging pictures, at least they were pretty sure that Simon did not just randomly drive nails into his walls. The nails were clearly there, but the pictures were gone, as if someone had taken them down in a hurry, not thinking about how weird it would look. Everyone was eager to ask him about it, but all of them were polite enough to not do so, well, maybe except for Sophia, who was not great at social clues, but even she kept quiet after both Thomas and Julia had sent her a warning glare. Simon was still gazing around the room even an hour after they had arrived and started to study, spread out on the sofa, armchair, and the rug on the floor. There was soft music coming from the speakers next to the TV. A pretty huge TV, the friend group absently noted. At least there was music until it was cut by a ringtone playing over the speakers. The TV had turned on and was now displaying an incoming call by someone saved as “Wille” accompanied by a red heart. Instantly Simon frowned, his eyebrows knitting together with clear worry written on his face. The uneasiness from earlier had vanished and Simon did not pay any mind to his friends staring at the caller-name and himself respectively. He ignored Matts and Julia’s questions. Instead, he answered the call. Immediately Wille’s breathing rang through the speakers followed by a weak “Simme?”. Had Simon paid no mind to his friends being there before he was even less now. He had told Wille that his friends were coming over, and he would never dare to blow Simon’s cover and call him if it was not an emergency. The other man’s weak tone confirmed his suspicion. He had experienced this often enough to know that Wille was having a panic attack right now. A glance at the clock on the wall told him that it was already after midnight in Stockholm. His boyfriend had probably had a bad dream. Immediately he sprung to action, trying to soothe Wille with his voice, asking him what was wrong. In Swedish obviously, both due to his friends but mostly because Wille didn’t like it when he spoke English to him when there were two whole other languages they could communicate in, that both of them liked way more. Wille shakingly told him about the meeting he had had the afternoon before, and about one of the royal advisers whose words about their relationship had followed the young man even into his dreams. When he was done Wille took a deep breath before starting to speak in Spanish. Ever since he had learned it with the help of Simon, Linda, and Sara he enjoyed switching between the two languages when talking to either of them. For a second, Simon wanted to warn him about the other people there, three of them spoke the language after all but decided against it. Wille was way more important than a few people who might have to sign NDAs. “I just don’t understand why Mamma would keep these people around when she knows how much they literally hate us. Like, I know duty comes first and then comes being a mother, but…it still hurts, and I don’t know if I should be relieved that you are not here to actually hear them or depressed because it sometimes feels like I am in this alone even though the reason I do all of this is so we can be together.” He took another deep breath. At least ever since the whole drama of their youth they had never had problems because of miscommunication. Wille had worked hard to get his mental health under control, it had taken a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of tears and doubts, but in the end, it had led them here. Simon thought it was all worth it. He wanted to assure Wille that his mother would do something against it, for sure, but he knew that that was most likely not the case, so he decided against it. Empty reassurances weren’t really the best thing right now. Instead, he reminded the other man that he would soon be home for a week and that only one advisor was nothing against all the support behind them. Wille seemed to believe him. When his breathing had turned back to being slow and relaxed Simon noticed that Wille must be extremely tired and had a morning meeting the next day according to the appointment calendar they had on their phones. It had the wonderful function to let them both look at their own as well as the other's schedule, which had proven to be quite useful. “Mi amore, can you try to go back to sleep?” The short pause that followed indicated that Wille had nodded before noticing that Simon could not see him, a side effect of them usually face timing. “Yeah, I’ll try, I am tired.” Simon told him to sleep well, before hesitantly adding an “I love you”, in Swedish because that was none of anyone’s business. Wille had clearly picked up on the situation and replied in the same language before bidding goodbye and ending the call, hopefully, to pass out for at least five hours before the next day. Simon pointedly ignored the stares he received from his friends as he turned on the music again. “What the fuck?” Julia exclaimed under her breath. Her exclamation was followed by Thomas's “What was that? Do you have a boyfriend?” as well as Nora's “What did just happen?” Afterwards Simon was not sure how he had managed to not let anything important slip while quickly confirming that he did in fact have a boyfriend in Sweden, who did sometimes get panic attacks and called him in the middle of the night, well the middle of the night in Sweden. All this was told in short answers, never telling more than they had asked, quickly guiding people away when they asked something too critical.
Simon’s luck did not last forever. Roughly a month had passed since the incident at his flat when his whole construct of lies and half-truths tipped over. Or at least it did eventually, but much less dramatic than it sounded. He had just returned from his week in Stockholm, which had mostly been spent by being in at least a two-meter radius from Wille, not daring to leave him even in another room. At least the year would soon be over, even though Simon also dreaded what would come after. The first problem occurred when people found out that he did in fact not use his real name in the US. The crown had given him a generic Swedish last name to enrol him in a university there, but they had obviously not given him other documents like his driving license with a false name. Simply because no one found it important enough. Should he get ID-ed this was his real name, and the school was well aware that he was enrolled under an assumed name. He had not thought that it would ever be a problem, no one at university would ever see his license after all. Until he managed to lose it in the middle of an overstuffed cafeteria on a Wednesday. Sophia handed it back to him, but not before flashing a look inside and stilling in her seat. “What’s wrong?” asked Matt sitting next to her, leaning in to look at the small document in her hand, before they both looked up at Simon. At this point, they had the attention of the whole table. Meaning at least ten people. And Simon was getting really anxious. Matt’s voice was lined with confusion. “Why does this say ‘Simon Erikson’?” And there it was. There was no denying it, not after they literally had proof in their hands. Why was this always happening to him? He took a deep breath to push down the irritation he could feel bubbling up. The last thing he needed was a scene in the middle of an overcrowded cafeteria. “Because I am enrolled at the school under an alias, to protect my identity.” Another deep breath. The whole table was staring at him by now. At least the general level of noise was high enough that no one else seemed to have heard any of their exchange so far. “And I would be very grateful if this could stay between the people present. The last thing I need is for the whole school to know anything about me, okay?” He tried to sound stern and mostly managed to, but he mostly sounded really tired. He was met with stunned silence, huge eyes, and a nod from everyone at the table. “Thank you. Could I please have my license back Sophia? I still need it.” The woman handed it over and gave him a smile. Full of relief he returned it.
But of course, someone else had heard them too. The next day he was immediately met with a crowd of students standing around the teacher’s desk. Sophia, Thomas, and Nora were leaning against a table a little away and looked up when he entered. They quickly made their way over to him. “We are so sorry, we tried to keep them from doing it, but they just didn’t stop.” Sophia looked close to tears, the other two had a grim look on their faces. “We didn’t read it, it’s not our place but we saw the headlines and we are sorry. We couldn’t keep the others from reading though.” Nora added, which didn’t make Simon feel any better, because he knew exactly what had happened. The whole rest of the course was standing together with Professor Wheller, looking at something on the computer screen. His suspicion was confirmed when he cleared his throat while nearing the group. Heads turned his way, eyes wide. He tried to pay it no mind, while he internally was close to having a panic attack. It felt like back then, it felt the same as the day he and Wille had walked out of Hillerska, like the stares when they had been the only ones who did not know that Erik was dead. It felt like Lucia, like all eyes suddenly on them, it felt like the video out there for everyone to see. And he did not want to do this again, never. Those things had happened more than six years ago, but he would never get over them, neither would Wille. When he came close enough to see the screen, he was first met with his professor who was staring at him with both confusion and some sort of fascination that made his skin crawl. They looked at him as if he was some sort of exotic animal in a zoo and every cell in him screamed to run. But he was done running, he had been for years now. Instead, he averted his gaze to the screen with his own face plastered on it. And of course, it was not one of the courting pictures they had taken, it was not of some event Wille, and he had attended through the years. No, of course, it was the video, the picture that had been plastered on every magazine for months and occasionally resurfaced when one of them had no other stories to write. They had been told by the PR team years ago that they should simply not look at any of it, the risk to go down a rabbit hole of slandering articles was way too great. And now he was in the US, a whole ocean away from home, being a normal person yet again, and still the video would follow him even to another continent. It always came down to the video, didn’t it? They would never be free from it. For a second, he thought he would simply faint right there or at least have a panic attack, but instead, a sort of calm settled over him. In two months, he would be back home, all the meetings and laws hopefully done to make way for their future. So instead of panicking, he grabbed his phone and quickly pressed the call button. Even though actual security had not been deemed necessary there was still some on stand-by should he ever need help. And that was exactly who he called now. Their eyes were still on him as the call connected, he heard a few people whispering. “I need thirty NDAs for my Spanish class. As soon as possible.” He listened for a moment and approved the contents before he confirmed the order. He thanked the agent on the other end of the line and ended the call after he had been told that they would be there in 15 minutes. He was instantly met with a cacophony of What the fuck’s. Instead of answering he leaned over to the computer mouse and closed the browser that had been open with an old article. “What exactly is the meaning of all this, Simon?” Professor Wheller asked him after he had leaned back again and took a deep breath. No panic, just some sort of annoyed indifference about the situation. It didn’t feel like the world was ending, not like a few years prior. Now it was just an annoying obstacle that lightly threatened to ruin his last two months before going home. But he was not a teenager anymore who had no resources and no way to help himself. Now he always had security agents at his disposal, and there would be no problems getting legal help should he ever need it. How the tides had changed, with this Simon, August would have never dared to try anything. But such thoughts were rather useless, he could not change the actions of the past. Instead, he focused back on his professor. “It’s mandatory since you know of my identity, and I would really like to finish my exchange year without my face being plastered in America’s yellow press.” His voice sounded almost bored, he noticed. “NDAs are necessary to do so, therefore I would advise you to wait for the security agents and sign them. If any of this gets out, we will know who leaked it.” He leaned against the desk, not trusting his legs to keep from shaking even though he was not even consciously panicking. A small part of him would probably never stop trembling in important situations. “Who on earth is ‘we’ in this scenario?” He raised an eyebrow at the woman who had asked the question, silently wondering if that was not obvious. “The Swedish Royal Family, as I am sure you have already sufficiently read online, considering that you found an article from six years ago and I dare to say that that was surely not the only one you read.” The woman who had spoken almost shrivelled under his gaze. “So, you are Prince Wilhelm’s boyfriend?” He almost wanted to correct them, but no one was supposed to know. He simply nodded. What followed was a way too long time for it to have been only fifteen minutes, but the clock told him otherwise. It seemed that time ran rather slowly when you were objected to uncomfortable questions. When the security agents finally arrived, two of them to be precise, they made the class sit down, each one of them with an NDA in front of them. Reading through it would probably take the whole lesson. Simon was correct. The last student handed the signed paper over just as the lesson was over. He couldn’t wait to get out of there. Sophia, Nora, and Thomas had been made to sign one too, but Simon assured them that it was alright and that he would tell Matt and Julia about it as well after all the five of them were his best friends here and he had actually grown to like them quite a bit. “What do you think about the next study session at my place again?” He sent it into their group chat and got a quick okay from the others. After all such news was nothing to be discussed in public, and much less at university where someone else could overhear them again. At least before it had only been some others from his Spanish course who he had been able to stop before they could spread any rumours, or in that case more the truth.
The next time he might not be this lucky, so his place it was. This time the friend group was greeted by a still nervous, yet way more content-looking Simon. His hair was in a neater bun this time, his eyeliner sharp as ever. He smiled at them warmly and brought them into the living room, it was simply the cosiest for all of them. He disappeared into the kitchen after asking if anyone wanted something to drink and gave the others a moment to realise that this time there were no missing pictures. The whole wall was still covered in them, mostly of him and Wille. Of course, it was no match for their photo wall at home, but it was still nice to have at least some of them for him to look at. The one he liked the most had been made alongside their official courtship photos. It had been more of a blooper really, both of them grinning at each other about what they were talking about. Surprisingly it had not been the photographer but Kristina who had taken the picture. She had added it to their folder of pictures they had to sort out the next day with a note that this was not for release but for them alone. It had been one of the first times Simon had actually felt welcome by the queen. Obviously, they had taken it with joy and now a copy of it was hanging on Simon's living room wall in the US, being looked at by his friends. Of course, there were a lot more, with his family, and with his various friends, some of Wille and Sara he had taken of the two goofing around. It was a mosaic of his life he had only shared briefly with his American friends. When he returned, they were still staring. Sophia was the first one to notice him, she gave him a wide smile as if to say that she was proud of him, and Simon realised yet again in the past year just how much the woman reminded him of his sister. “Dude, what on earth have you not been telling us? This guy is on almost every one of those and I’ve never seen him, nor have you ever talked about him? What’s going on?” Matt was the first one to break the silence. A strange calm filled Simon at the prospect of not lying. “That’s Wille, my boyfriend, you know, the one who called the last time you were here?” Matt slowly nodded as he answered the man’s question. “Then why did you take them down last time? I mean, we all kinda knew that you were gay, it’s not like you have to be afraid of coming out or anything.” He appreciated Julia’s concern and tried to think of a good answer for a moment before just deciding to improvise it. “I came out when I was thirteen, just so you know, I merely didn’t deem it necessary to tell you about it head-on. But that’s not really the important thing. I took them down because the risk of any of you recognizing Wille was too great.” Sophia, Julia, and Thomas kept in the background since they were already aware of everything he was saying, but the other two didn’t seem to notice. “Just before you ask further, I have to inform you that you will have to sign NDAs after this, otherwise my security agents will probably kill you and me with it, even though that’s literally what they should prevent, if I did not tell you or if you don’t sign them, so just do it and we’re all safe.” His quick lecture was met with two pairs of confused eyes. “Why on earth would something like that be necessary? Who are you to have security agents? What the heck is going on.” Matt had always had such a charming way of phrasing his words. Simon looked up at them and took a sip from his water. Maybe for dramatic effect, sue him, he wasn’t able to reveal his identity like this any day, and probably would never be able to do so again in the future. “I thought you might have figured it out by now; my boyfriend is the crown prince of Sweden.” To his amusement, the first reaction he got was a half-shouted expression from Matt. “But you are literally a Socialist!” It almost made Simon burst out with laughter, but he kept it together, instead, he grinned at him. “Well, you could say “fuck the monarchy” is my motto in many areas of life.” What followed was a lengthy conversation in which Simon was bombarded with questions yet again. Both newly informed had no objections to signing the NDAs as well as promising again that they would keep everything a secret. Later in the evening, on a video call with Wille, Simon realised that it wouldn’t be a secret much longer. He had once told Wille that he did not want to be anyone’s secret, he still felt that way, but he had not been Wille’s secret in a long time. The moment Wille showed him the speech Kristina would give in a few days, he knew that soon everything would be no longer a secret. Deep under the nervousness he couldn’t help but feel anticipation.
Simon was sitting in one of the school’s recording studios, together with his whole class, when the news broke. One of his classmates was staring at his phone, seemingly uninterested in the topic their professor was explaining, when he suddenly looked up with wide eyes, staring directly at Simon. “Holy shit!” He exclaimed way louder than necessary, immediately drawing the attention of all people present. “What is the meaning of your rude interruption?” Their professor seemed rather angry. Simon smirked inwardly. He knew exactly what was going on, after all, it was now a little past six o’clock in Sweden, and Kristina’s speech had been set for six. And the news had already made its way to the other side of the ocean. “Google the breaking news for Sweden.” Was the only thing the others needed to grab their phones. Even their teacher, Simon noted amused. He was the only one who did not grab his phone, after all, he had already read through Kristina’s speech, not even mentioning that the news was pretty old for him by now. Julia, who was sitting next to him showed him her phone. This was something he had not even told his friends. There was a huge headline on it: “Queen Kristina of Sweden announces Crown Prince Wilhelm’s engagement to Simon Eriksson” Under it was one of their official courting pictures, as well as them at a state dinner from a year before. It was pretty dumb that Kristina had to announce such a thing, rather than the people it concerned, but the PR team had insisted on it. According to Wille, they had talked for countless meetings about how it would further show the queen's support for their relationship. Honestly, the most fun thing about the announcement was the fact that Simon got to watch his classmates’ reactions to it. It was hilarious. From wide-eyed stares to muffled shouts and whispers, there was everything. He especially relished in their teacher's dumb-struck expression before he slowly looked up and found Simon’s eyes. Simon simply sent him a grin. He was way over feeling self-conscious in the spotlight. His phone chooses that exact moment to ring, he already knew that it was Wille. Instead of a greeting Wille immediately started to talk. “I am honestly so embarrassed, that picture CNN choose is so horrible. I thought they had surely burned it, but no, it just has to be on our engagement announcement because why choose peace when you can choose violence? Also, my mum finally fired that stupid advisor who tried to bad-mouth us after he exclaimed less than eloquent that with our marriage the monarchy, and with-it Sweden as a whole, would surely fall from grace in the eyes of the rest of the world. It was funny as hell, even if not as funny as the time we finally got Jan-Olof to retire. That was still the best moment of my life.” Simon involuntarily smiled at Wille’s brambling. He loved this version of him, the Wille that was not afraid to speak his mind and be just as he wanted to be. Nonetheless, Simon interrupted his tirade. “I feel incredibly insulted by that last statement, Jan-Olof’s retirement was the best moment of your life. Not when I agreed to marry you? Ungrateful! Where did that prince charming manner go? Do you only get that before accepting your proposal? Do you think now that you have me you won’t have to put in any work anymore?” Wille’s heartfelt laughter made him feel giddy. “Nah, you know that romance is dead after marriage.”, “We are not married yet, Wille.” He could practically hear the smirk on Wille’s face. “We can change that any time, I have the only thing it needs right here.” He knew that Wille was joking but something in him jumped from joy at the implication that Wille did not give a damn about all the useless royal ceremonial they would have to endure. They did not even have a date yet, but Simon was certain that Wille would marry him anytime. And Wille was right, the only thing that was strictly necessary was the marriage contract and a witness. Before Simon could give an answer Wille bet him to it. “You know what? What would you think about me picking you up from school today?” Momentarily forgetting that they were on different continents Simon agreed. “That would be wonderful.” The only answer he got was a quick “Goodbye. I love you” before the line went dead. Still a little starstruck Simon returned to the studio he was in. A look at the clock in the back, around all his classmates told him that their class was to be over in three minutes. What on earth had Wille meant? “I assume that was the Crown Prince?” the teacher slowly asked him, obviously afraid of saying something wrong. “Yup.” He was not really in the mood for explanations and was kept from having to give one by a knock on the door. It opened to reveal a more than familiar figure. “Hah, knew that it was the right studio. Oh, hey guys, sorry for barging in. I got someone to pick up for a lunch date.” Wille gave an awkward little wave and sent a crocked grin toward the group. “You are the most dramatic person on this planet.” Was the only thing that came to Simon’s mind. “Nah, darling, that award goes to you. You ready to go?” Wille had started to grow his hair a few years ago and was now wearing it just above his shoulders. In Simon’s opinion, he had never looked better, especially since he normally tied it up lazily, letting loose strands fall in his face. His eyes now glittered from behind them, his lips twisted in a joyful smile. “Yeah, sure, coming.” Simon could barely keep himself from sounding as breathless as he was. He quickly grabbed his backpack and followed Wille out of the room, leaving a crowd of confused and awestruck students behind.
They were lying on the sofa in Simon’s living room, pressed together from chest to toe. God, Simon had missed this. Wille’s fingers were softly brushing through his hair the way they always did almost subconsciously. “You know, I meant it when I said we could get married anytime.” At Wille’s soft words, Simon lifted his head slightly. “What do you mean?” Wille glanced down at him and sent him a smile. “I mean, I don’t think I want our actual wedding to be that big state event it will have to be. It would feel like playing a role, and marrying you is not a role I want to play. I want to marry you when we both know it is real when it only belongs to us. So, I thought, what if we did it before? Like I have the contract, we can go ring shopping, my mother has way enough advocates running around to find one that would be a witness. We could have Linda, Sara, and Felice there, maybe Ayub and Rosh, or no one at all, and we could get married just for us. And then when the date’s here we can just play the role because we know that it’s real and that we’re already bound for life.” The picture Wille was painting in his mind almost made Simon cry from happiness. How was it possible that they were always this in sync, that there was always this deep understanding of one another? They both knew that they did not want the huge wedding they would have to have. In another life, they would have gotten married under trees and under the open sky. When they had first started talking about marriage a few years back, Wille had told him that he had always dreamed of doing so, that he had feared the huge ceremonies of the crown when he had been younger, because he knew that he would have to have one too when he was older. Maybe not as big as Erik’s but still. And now his brother was not here anymore, and people expected the future king to marry in a rather pretentious style. Or at least the royal court expected him to do so. Maybe a lot of people would have understood if he had not wanted his wedding to be broadcasted for the whole country to see, but his mother could simply not allow it. So instead Wille and Simon made a plan that night. Because they had waited a whole year to finally be able to marry. And they would do it their way, even though it would have to be a secret and they had to play their roles afterwards. After all, they did not marry for publicity but for love, and Goddamnit, they deserved their moment too.