Archive of Our Own

The comical turn of events started when the kingdom was preparing for the annual Day of the Hero, unfolding in a rather quick and hasty pace.

Festivities during the national holiday were not mandatory but highly favorable, and two years into Will’s reign had left the kingdom in a rather peaceful state which allowed them to merrily partake in celebrating the momentum. Three days before the actual event began to take place, the build-up excitement and anticipation from the festival seemed to already be taking over everyone’s morale. The streets of Grand Trad were filled with colorful pennant banner hanging from one street lamps to another, buoyant chatter could be heard from each square of the capital, kids running around with fingers clinging tightly to handheld festival flags, and the overall contagious high, lively spirit in the air were almost like a match made in heaven for the clear blue sky. 

The exact opposite could probably be said when it comes to the actual residents of the kingdom. As the capital was expecting lots of guests, especially rulers from other regions, great preparations had to be made to accommodate everyone. One could throw a dart in a semantic array of words ranging from feast to safety measures and whichever word the dart landed on, best believe the kingdom was already preparing for it. Organizing for such a big event, everybody was busy shuffling on their feet, and the king himself, well …

“Has anyone seen His Majesty?” Hulkenberg asked around to anyone she settled her eyes on. “He had to try on his newly made clothes for the festival! It is only so much time until the tailor is no longer able to modify the attire, if such changes had to be made.”

It seemed like the stolen childhood due to years of curse still left Will a soft spot for hide and seek, one that cannot be cured with months of journey he went on. His adventurous young blood had led the royal guard to an absolute perturbation more often than not, though they acknowledged very well the fact that their king can defend himself just fine. The waryness hadn’t worn off just yet, perhaps; the curse attack scarred the royal family deep enough to let the worry linger even after fourteen years later.

“I have not seen him in a bit,” Strohl lied when Hulkenberg turned to him, skepticism lay within her eyes. He would’ve shuddered in fear if he didn’t know any better that she meant no harm. “His Majesty can’t be far off. Have you taken a look at his quarter?”

“I wouldn’t be in such a state of distraught if I haven’t.”

Then off Hulkenberg went to search for the king. Strohl sighed in relief as the rouissante escaped his sight.

“Can I come out now?”

Before Strohl could say anything to the very person behind his general cloak, he felt a light nudge behind his back, then receiving an abrupt movement that of a rather forceful prod. 

“You may c— careful!”

He was almost shoved and toppled onto the ground and embarrassed himself in front of everyone in this kingdom hall if he hadn’t steel his stance. 

Will might as well pull Strohl’s calf-length cape and reveal himself in such a dramatic manner of a theatrical show would be if he was going to make such a ruckus. His legs almost punt Strohl’s, and his arms were nudging Strohl’s back for a few times that it came off as ticklish. From the way Strohl felt it, Will must’ve had to hunch over himself to cover himself with the fabric, and when he tried to move, the stiffened muscles impeded his otherwise swift motion.

“Sorry,” Will apologized with a cheeky smile on his face. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, then kicked his heels towards the glutes, gently stretching his legs. “... did I hurt you?” 

“No, not at all,” Strohl said, his eyes glued to Will’s stretching gestures. 

Was it always that cramped under his general garment?  

More often than not, the king would veil himself under there whenever he couldn’t find any better place to hide during social events. It started as a joke, but it turned out to be more effective and efficient than they both initially thought. And so far, there was no such space related problem encountered. 

Which could only mean one thing.

“But I don’t think you can appropriate my cape as your hideout any longer … ?” 

Strohl had no idea why he sounded so unsure. Was it the way Will immediately put on a long face at Strohl’s remark, or the way he realised Will was a few centimetres taller than the last time he remembered? It’s ridiculously hard to eyeball or notice any significant difference in the height of someone you saw nearly everyday. 

“Aw.” Then a made-up pout. “You’re not fun.”

“Your play time is up now, I suppose. No longer can hide from the guests and all as you like,” Strohl imbued before receiving a rather long sigh from Will, almost as if it was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. 

It’s not like Will was suffering from social anxiety upon meeting people, or lack thereof. Sometimes, hiding is just the best thing to do when he already figured he’s going to be trapped in hours of meaningless talk; a gathering held by certain unsettling parties to sway him into favoring the somewhat suspicious boot-licking politicians, thinking the young king was easy to be controlled through simple acts of gratification. And Strohl shared too much sentiment on the same ideal to ever reject Will’s request to cover him up.

Will reached for Strohl’s cape, grabbing a hold on the fabrics before playfully tugging it. “Or you can always get an even longer cape so I can hide easier.” 

“Yup. That’s not going to happen,” he shook his head. It’s not about the length after all, Strohl thought, or was it? Strohl couldn’t really say for sure. “Speaking of, have you tried the new clothes Hulkenberg spoke about earlier?”

“I have, and I already asked them to undo stitches on the pants’ hem,” Will said. “But something was off, because I did say I’d rather not have the ends to hang above my ankle to the tailor, before she even worked on it.”

“Is that so?”

Will huffed. “Well, yeah? I mean, I don’t want to stress her out with last minute alterations, you know? She just returned from the honeymoon and all.”

Always so thoughtful, Will was. It was true that the tailor they hired had just returned from her honeymoon vacation with the royal healer, one of the kingdom’s best. Strohl just didn’t expect Will to remember their personal life. A lovely couple, honestly. They were both ishkia, and both were certified experts in their own fields. Will didn’t want to overwhelm her all at once with difficult and inconvenient requests, especially at the last minute.

But, despite all, that sure was strange, because the king’s requests are hardly something one would even dare to miss. For such a huge festival, too, and Strohl was certain the commissioned tailor and her team were already given more than enough time to get everything right down to the minor details.  

“It’s not really last minute, isn’t it? There are still three days until the event, I’d say that’s plenty to undo little stitches,” Strohl replied as he crossed his arms. Will shouldn’t feel bad about it. “But … you’re sure you’ve told them about the ends of your trousers earlier?”

Will nodded his head, followed by a light hum. 

It all easily clicked together. The fuss Will had made moments ago in order to come out of his hiding had something correlated with his new tailored clothes. Strohl tried to remember since when Will’s height was just right below his pair of horns, because the elda could only surpass the level of his earlobe during mornings when they first met.

“My assumption’s right, then. It’s not a matter of the tailor forgetting your request; you’re just getting taller,” Strohl muttered. Will tilted his head, brimming with confusion. His eyes quickly searched for his own feet, silently hoping the action would help him to estimate his current height. “Perhaps that’s why you took more space than you usually would do under my outer garment just now.”

The explanation made sense, but it did not satisfy Will. Strohl wondered if he said something wrong. Unlike little kids who are always excited and giddy to outgrown their parents’ height, Will’s confused, almost sour face told Strohl enough that he wasn’t impressed. 

Few beats of silence passed. As a lump of guilt started to form, Strohl wondered if he had made Will upset. 

“Are you alright?” Strohl bit the bullet to ask. At least he’d know if Will’s silence was conjured by his remark about getting taller or entirely something else. “Feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.” Will smiled, and Strohl tried to buy the claim, but the uneasiness hadn’t gone away just yet.

Isn’t it a good thing? Physical appearance is important, too. For someone in power, at least. Will should’ve known from his own experience, aside from receiving unfair prejudice as an elda. There were times where he wasn’t being taken seriously by other rulers solely because he possessed the demeanor of a teenager, despite being the rightful heir of Hythlodaeus V and ruler of people’s choice.

It was beyond Strohl to even think of any plausible grounds that could explain the look on Will’s face. 

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as trivial as the fact that he’s no longer able to hide flawlessly under Strohl’s garments, right?

Will furrowed his brows, looking deep in thought. “Maybe I should give Basilio a cloak that looks just like yours. He’s taller than you, after all.”

“You can’t be serious …” 

Unexpectedly, it was as trivial as that. Unexpectedly, too, it made Strohl’s stomach churn by thinking of a fairly vivid impression of Will hiding under a cloak worn by Basilio. Whether the elda was joking or not, it would mean Will no longer needed Strohl’s help to cover him up, and that made him feel peculiar, somehow. His tongue suddenly felt too bitter to continue his words, and he could only wait for the uneasiness to dissipate as Will blurted out more idle chat.

Maybe Strohl knew more as to why Will was unimpressed earlier than he initially thought.

A day before the festival, Will practically dragged any available partisans to the Hushed Honeybee Inn, as a refreshment after wrapping up the preparations for the festival. He was able to get Heismay and Eupha to join him, along with Gallica and Strohl who had nothing better to do for the rest of the evening.

It should be a refreshment, technically, but a call for help arose during their stroll to the inn’s tavern, and being himself, Will couldn't let it slide under his watch. Had he ignored the call, it would’ve been a big betrayal to what he campaigned and still promoting for. So when he heard a child about Maria’s age yelling for help, Will immediately drew his sword out of the sheathe, and glided on it to the source of the sound.

The paripus girl wasn’t that far, but it sure was faster to reach her.

“My kite,” she said, drawing labored breath after running, trying to pursue the kite yet to no avail, “is stuck in a tree. It’s my very new kite for the festival!”

“Oh, my,” Eupha commented, watching the scene unfold from a distance. It’s not hard to miss the colorful kite in the tree; it stuck out like a sore thumb. “Is His Majesty going to …?”

“Sure he is,” Strohl replied. By the time he crossed his arms together, Will already climbed the tree effortlessly, leaving his levitating sword parked just under the tree. “You can’t expect anything less from him.”

It didn’t take Will a long time to retrieve the colorful kite from the tree, and safely landed himself back on the ground. He passed the kite to the young paripus girl, now beaming with happiness on her face, no longer on the verge of breaking down over the kite. After Will spoke a little bit of something as he slightly ruffled the little girl’s hair, he came back to the group who was waiting for him. Up on his sword he was, riding the blade like usual. 

Nothing seemed off, until a big thud followed with clank of the falling sword hitting the ground greeted their ears. 

Will shrieked as he fell onto his knees, almost shoving his face to the pavement of Sunshade Row. His quick reaction to prop his body using his arms prevented himself from having a worse fall than that.

“Will!”

“Are you alright!?” 

Will let out a light groan before receiving Strohl’s help to get up, audibly wincing as he tried to stand firmly on his feet even though his knees were still aching. Causing a commotion, when they were supposed to enjoy the night before another festival-related stress storm, was the least thing Will would want to do. “... I’m fine.”

“You scared me there!” Gallica fretted, now flying to examine Will’s knees, making sure no blood was drawn from the sudden fall. “Well, you seem to be okay … but, still.”

Heismay prompted an advice. “I know your vision during the dark can never be on par with mine, but even the dusk is still young. Please be more careful on the streets.”

“I believe my sight is fine. It’s just, ugh …” Will picked his sword off the ground, back to his own grip. He fixed his eyes to the weapon his mother had left him with, vague ideas filled his head as he tried to make sense of what seemed to be happening. “My blade felt weird.”

“Uh, care to explain?” Gallica probed, but coaxing affirmation out of Will seemed impossible as the elda had the same frown and confusion all over his face. She then went closer to inspect the weapon. “I mean, you’ve traveled to lots of places with your sword, what are the odds that it’s being weird only now?” 

“I can’t think of any idea why,” Will sighed in defeat. 

“Could it only be a stroke of bad luck?” Heismay suggested.

Will shook his head. “It could be, but I … don’t really think so. It’s hard to explain.”

“Mind if I see?” Strohl held out his hand. After receiving the weapon Will had passed with no hesitation, a single good look already told Strohl to call a specific kind of help. “Eupha, care to take a look?”

Eupha jerked her point finger to herself. “Me? But I don’t see anything wrong with it …” she muttered, but the mustari lady still gave a closer look, even reluctantly, as Strohl tried to angle the weapon just enough to make sure Eupha was able to examine it properly.

“Well, true. It appears just fine. I need your help to sense the magla imbued in this sword,” he said, receiving a cognizant nod from Eupha. Strohl then let Eupha hold the weapon, allowing her to sense it herself. “If there’s nothing wrong with it physically, then the issue could’ve only been found in the unseen.”

“Hold on—are you suggesting the magla in his blade had been manipulated in some way?” With a look of disapproval in his face, Heismay made himself clear that he’s clearly not going to let this one slide. “This is unacceptable! Someone out there wanted the king to injure himself?”

The unknown, soon-to-be kingslayer might’ve learned a thing or two to pull a more subtle and indirect action from the latest regicide, then. It dawned on Will that if what Heismay suspected had even a little bit truth to it, the culprit must’ve been a high-level mage, or just a very cunningly smart person like a certain nidia he knew well, to even instill something in the weapon Will carried almost everyday without him knowing it.

“Please, calm down. I don’t sense any unfamiliar magla,” Eupha said hushedly before passing the sword to its rightful owner. Will tilted his head in confusion, eyes still searching for the physical issue even when it’s practically impossible. “It is safe from any manipulation attempt, I’m sure. But the magla feels a little bit weak.”

It only made Will’s brows furrow even deeper. “Weak?” 

“That still doesn’t rule out the implication that some kind of manipulation occurs, right? Like, what if someone intentionally weakened the magla?” Gallica probed impatiently. 

“The low probability of someone succeeding in doing so, without any of us knowing it, ruled it out,” Strohl said. That’s almost impossible under the royal guard’s watch. But his mind immediately wandered to how it was almost a hobby of Will to sneak off on his own without any guardian by his side. “I think.”

“If it was manipulated, I would’ve been able to tell,” Eupha added, nodding her head to ease any trace of doubt she might’ve shown. “The issue lies within the intensity. The previous fall was caused by the weak magla, which made the sword unable to levitate properly. It failed to support and balance the rider. That’s perhaps the easiest way I can explain what I’m sensing.”

“So, a little more magla can help a long way?” Heismay raised another question. His earlier concern instantly washed over after hearing Eupha’s explanation, and he knew better to trust the words of the mustari. Eupha affirmed Heismay’s question with a light hum.

“But …” Will mumbled, unsureness in his voice made all the partisans’ eyes casted to him, then a new weight of silence. “Is there any reason why I ran across the problem just now? It’s just as Gallica said—I mean, I’ve been using this blade to travel since forever, so it’s strange.”

There must be a reason as to why it’s acting up only now. Maybe the correlation, not necessarily causation, could be found in some problem Will had encountered earlier, unbeknownst to him.

“Something to do with your physical proportion, I assume?” Strohl asked. Will returned a straight face, not knowing what to react Strohl’s proposed idea with. Strohl then made a gesture of measuring Will’s height, leveling his hand with the top of Will’s head. “We’ve just gone through it a couple days ago, haven’t we? The several centimetres you gained.”

Will’s hand reached to land a pat on his own head, a little bit doubting Strohl’s explanation.

“Oh! If that is the case, then it makes sense, yes,” Eupha confirmed. “That’s rather lovely, isn’t it?”

Gallica almost squeaked at the realization. Being a fairy she was, it’s bound to be very hard in telling proportional sizes of almost everything. “You’re getting taller?! I can’t really tell. Should I say, ‘congratulations’?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Gallica.”

“Starting to become a fine man, you are,” Heismay laughed, a fatherly drawl accompanying his voice. “Ever considered growing out your hair, too? It would make you look more like your father. Ah, I remember how it added more of je ne sais quoi that enhanced his kingly prestigiousness, back in my knighthood days.”

“ … I think it’s already longer than what I remembered,” Will muttered as he grasped strands of his white hair, now almost as long as the prince’s hair back when he was put to sleep. “I haven’t got the time to trim it yet.”

“Might as well ask Junah to style it,” Gallica proposed jokingly. “But … if you’re going to trim it later, then the least you could do is to make sure the hair is not going in your way. How about putting it in a tiny ponytail?”

Though a little bit confused, Will still did as Gallica said. He gathered strands of his hair in one hand and put it in the back, holding the tiny ponytail with his hand as he didn’t have any hair tie with him. Not being able to see a reflection of his own appearance, he turned to Gallica to check it for him. “You mean like this?”

“Yeah! That’s cute!”

“Is it?” Will asked, as Eupha cooed with her hands clasped near to chest, a quiet but sure affirmation, drawing a certain amount of confidence in Will. He then swiveled around to face Strohl, still holding his ponytail, seemingly getting too into it after seeing the positive response from Gallica and Eupha. “What do you think, Strohl?”

Strohl was caught off guard, almost couldn’t be bothered to make a sudden honest opinion. Suddenly feeling bashful, he stammered, “Wha—? Why are you asking me?”

“I just wanted to know if you like it or not,” Will replied simply. And why did his opinion matter? The stomach churn came back and Strohl thought he might be a little bit sick.

He fixed his eyes on Will, now. The low, tiny ponytail looked nice, according to Strohl. It gave a sense of tidiness, but still did a great job in framing Will’s face. 

The hairstyle also exposed a great deal of Will’s jawline, which … already looked more firm and somehow, strong. Was it also another effect of the growth spurt he’d been experiencing? All Strohl knew was the solid structure of Will’s jawline also made a great deal of red blood immediately rush to Strohl’s cheeks because Will looked so, so attractive. Strohl’s heart skipped a beat before it pounded harder. 

He might be really sick.

“Well … it looks good,” Strohl forced out after an awkward cough to relieve the lump in his throat. He felt his cheeks hot before continuing. “Y-Yeah. It does. Suit you, I mean.”

Will beamed. Strohl had no idea why it’s such a big deal for the king. “You think so?” 

The clemar could only nod, preventing his own self from making a fool of him by trying to articulate a few more words. 

It’s good that the dusk was already settling in for quite some time now, that the dark had already started to envelop them. Naked eyes began to register the visible night stars as the source of light, along with the warm, dim street lights. The scarcity of light, accentuating dark hues around them, should prevent any of them from seeing Strohl’s red face, let alone pointing it out. It’s embarrassing. 

“Ah, he’s getting red.”

But Heismay Noctule’s eyesight had always been miles better than any of theirs during the dark.

The long awaited and much prepared festival of the Hero's Day finally came! 

After giving his speech at the opening ceremony, Will made his way back to his chamber for a moment, putting down the ceremonial cloak he’d been wearing earlier. He had thought about changing his newly tailored clothes into his casual ones, but Will was impatient. The king couldn’t wait any longer to wander around the capital street, buying lots of food sold in the city’s huge temporary bazaar before meandering himself down the main street of Sunlumeo, enjoying the festival to the fullest with his people. 

“Yeah, no. Not so easy.” Strohl said, leaning against the door frame of Will’s chamber. The opened door served as an indirect reminder for Will that he shouldn’t take so much time in taking off his cloak. The general then received a protest, or more so disapproval noises, from the king. “You’re only off your schedule after the evening feast. Before the time comes, you’re practically trapped with the important guests. I’m sure Hulkenberg has informed you about this, no?”

“Doesn’t make it any less disappointing,” Will spoke as he fixed the cuffs of his sleeves, before returning his attention to Strohl. Desperation then echoed in his voice. “I want to go out with you guys, too …”

“You’d still be able to experience the night fair with all of us,” Strohl said. “It’s not looking all that bad, come on. I’ll keep you company for the rest of the day, if you want.” 

It was a good bargain, Strohl thought. He’d prefer to think that it was, at least. But the way his offer wasn’t instantly met with a hum of acknowledgement started to make him uncertain. The silence indicated that Will was considering it, as if there would be a better condition in the upcoming minutes or hours that would break Strohl’s deal. It sent a weight down Strohl’s stomach that Will—out of all people—didn’t immediately accept his wholehearted offer. 

It felt like an eternity until Will finally replied. “I’ll just sneak away silently, then.”

Somehow, Strohl wasn’t surprised at all with the decision Will made. Even though it sounded like a choice one would make in stupor, Strohl could tell that Will was serious.

“People normally don’t tell others when they want to sneak out, you know? Telling me defeats the whole purpose of your attempt in doing it silently,” Strohl responded with knitted brows. 

“I know,” Will said as he tugged a grin, then navigated his way to Strohl who was still by the door. He darted his eyes around, ensuring nobody was paying a lot of attention to them, before lowering his voice. “I told you because you’re coming with me.”

The quiet tone of Will’s hushed voice earlier almost made Strohl want to crawl out of his skin. He mentally blamed the chills that struck him—it made his brain short circuited before coming up with a proper counter. He gave it a full two seconds of thinking nothing before letting out the only response he could muster. 

“Huh?” 

Will smiled, his eyes also turning into a pair of crescents. “Someone said he’d keep me company, didn’t he?” he asked rhetorically, the usual tone of his voice was drawn back. Strohl was a bit relieved at that, because he wouldn’t know what to do if Will kept on putting forth the previous low, almost sultry voice. 

“Please?”

Strohl swallowed hard. Any kind of resistance against Will’s pleadings was doomed to fail. Or maybe Strohl wasn’t just as skillful to ever utter the word no to Will, hasn’t yet mastered the tricks on turning him down without making the younger deliberately possess the sad puppy look that would cause Strohl to instantly feel guilty. 

That’s what he thought as Will hauled him around the capital streets. Now with a featherlight hooded cloak to shroud himself with, Will only made so much attempt in hiding his striking white hair. It may be a futile attempt. Will’s hand not letting go of Strohl’s as they maneuvered through the crowd, they were together, and identifying the garments worn by the clemar as property of the kingdom’s army was far from challenging. However, as if luck was on Will’s side, the people were too busy enjoying the street performances and the varying food stalls and everything in between and no one hadn’t noticed his presence and yelled it out in the open just yet. 

Yet. But after fifteen minutes of going unnoticed, Strohl contemplated that it may be okay to enjoy the time for themselves. 

As sunlight was striking through the cloudy sky, air breeze blew and flung the colorful festival flags and pennants, along with the excited chatter here and there, suddenly the whole matter of sneaking out wasn’t so bad.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?” Strohl asked, now walking side by side as the crowd got less boisterous. If Will wanted to buy something from the stalls, then Strohl would make the purchase on Will’s stead so he wouldn’t accidentally expose himself and cause a scene. 

Will was unsure. There were too many interesting and appealing foods and beverages he’d liked to try. But the colorful stall whose owner sold some kind of frozen snack was what caught his attention the most. The day was gradually getting hotter despite the October wind, and the thirst invaded his throat after walking demanded for something icy cold.

“Alright. Ice lolly coming right up,” Strohl exclaimed, gaining a stifled laugh from Will. He then pointed to a vacant street bench just near them. “Just wait right there. I’ll get to you later, so don’t go anywhere.”

Spending a few reeves on the ice lolly was hardly a big problem; the problem lies with the coos Strohl got from the older ladies, though still respecting the general’s space. A little bashful, he could only make out a smile and the perfect noble laugh he’d come to master. He’d seen this coming, mentally thanking himself for the decision of getting Will to wait somewhere less crowded instead of tagging along. 

When Strohl got back with hands occupied clutching the stick of two ice lollies, Will was awfully quiet on the street bench. He noticed the concern, but failed to identify the cause of Will turning his head downward, yet something about it spoke about cautiousness. 

After Strohl took a seat beside him, Will came closer to whisper something into his ear. “Someone has been following us. They’re hiding now, but still on alert, I think.”

The clemar knew better than to look around in confusion, even though he wanted to conceive the whole current scenario. If Will already acknowledged the situation at hand, and what to expect in the very next minutes, then the least Strohl could do was prevent himself from jeopardising anything at all. He held in a sigh at the abrupt discomfort. “Where?”

“At seven o’clock,” Will started to nibble on his ice lolly calmly, and wasn’t particularly interested in aggravating the situation. “I think they’re watching us just near the Saint Fermis Church, taking advantage of the building sight lines to hide. We can’t really see them from here.”

As there were no food stalls and tenants installed in front of the church, it’d be the most ideal spot to steal a sight of a certain someone, who happened to be Will. Strohl bit down his ice lolly, head busy thinking whether it’s best to get Will back to the castle or not, and if heading back was the more viable option, then which route would be the ideal one to either blend them in with the crowd or cause distress to the pursuer. 

“Don’t sweat it out,” Will suddenly said, almost able to sense Strohl’s silent agitation. It’s getting embarrassing how Will could always easily tell, spot on, too. Then it had only emerged on Strohl, how he’d been in a far worse situation on this very day two years ago, that a mere stalker shouldn’t be a big deal. But the comparison of the two still didn’t alleviate the worry with an immediate effect; he’d been morally burdened to escort the king safely after all. 

Strohl tuned out the frantic monologue in his head, almost ridiculous compared to Will’s stillness. “I’m not.”

“With that expression? You were thinking out loud,” Will laughed, then managed to get onto his feet before fixing his cloak. You’re overthinking again. It didn’t sound half as bad in times like this, not when they should probably think about taking measures in advance. “Shall we head back?”

“And being followed around?” Strohl asked, puckered brows sketched on his face as he swallowed the last bit of his ice. “You don’t even bother to discuss an escape route first?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Will said with a composed face. The general’s restless, strategist brain didn’t immediately succumb to the half baked answer, not when he could do a thousand times better than that. “Eventually. I mean, we still don’t know yet to what extent they’re going to keep up with us.”

Fair point. It’s not like they were on a deserted island and secluded from the public’s eyes. Had anything gone wrong, there were plethora of available help sources. Strohl just had to keep his guard on while letting himself get dragged by Will like earlier. With the current knowledge that someone was following them, Strohl’s senses were getting more perceptive than before, picking up any unusual activity he could gather to map out anything at all, from the situation to the safest course available to get the king back to the castle safe and sound.

But it was hard to even suggest a route when Will was taking the lead. Strohl was out of Will’s ears’ distance to talk about it quietly without raising undue attention from the crowd. 

“They’re still following us,” Strohl said as they finally exited the peak point of the crowd’s liveliness. 

Will muttered a low I know under his breath, and it almost shut Strohl’s brain completely off, being led on like this. Will knew something—he knew what to do, he had figured it out, but it was all beyond Strohl. 

He decided to trust Will anyway, but that was bound for only so long when Will made a turn to the familiar Sunshade Row. A little bit quieter than usual as lots of people gathered on the streets of Sunlumeo and Grand Cathedral. Why did Will take them to a sparse, less crowded place? The odds of being attacked from behind by Gods know who or what were astronomically higher than it was back in the middle of people celebrating the festival. 

“Will!” Strohl whispered, desperately, as Will kept on taking a few more turns to a much more secluded space of Sunshade Row, free from any spectating eyes. Strohl was still trying to keep his voice down as he attempted to coax something from the king. “What could you possibly be planning? We’re only straying further from the castle!” 

Strohl wanted to add: and this bloody turn you take will lead us to a dead end! But he believed Will’s recollection of Sunshade Row couldn’t be that dull, just like his was. And he also made no mistake in believing Will had the same sense of urgency as he did, because the hood of the cloak he’d been wearing already exposed his white hair for a hot minute now and he couldn’t care less to put it back on. 

So, within the current situation, Strohl had expected not getting an instant verbal response from the elda. And it’s a doubtless bullseye when Will didn’t give him one. But it still imbued the same pang of bitterness, just the same as earlier when Will didn’t take up on his offer right away. Strohl quickly brushed it off; it was easier to do so when he’d expected it. 

What Strohl wasn’t expecting was the way Will almost shove him into the wall just before the blind alley, a little bit rough but nothing Strohl could make a complaint of amidst this chase, essentially trapping him against the brick paneling. 

“What are you—”

Strohl couldn’t even finish his question because Will abruptly hushed him into silence. He then lightly punt Strohl’s foot with his, making him lose all the balance before slipping his hand right under his knee, lifting one of Strohl’s legs that it hovered a few good inches above the ground. Strohl couldn’t keep his figure let alone posture, now with only one leg actually functioning to support his steadiness. 

The clemar could only push his own back even deeper against the wall, utilizing most of it to settle his stance. His eyes were at the same level as Will’s clear, blue ones; it all happened so fast and hastily and now Will was already leaning in, with his hand propped against the wall, and their faces were merely a few centimetres away. 

They were so close. 

Too close?  

This is bad. 

Is it?

They have never been in such a proximity. He felt a rush sprung up to his cheeks, and he’d like to think that Will did too, because a tint of maroon was starting to emerge on his face as well, no matter how composed his face was. From this minimum distance, Will looked like he’s going to actually steal a kiss or two, and Strohl would’ve liked that. He hoped Will did, too … but Strohl’s running thoughts were all instantly paused as Will got closer, deliberately angling his head in a way that it would spark a really steamy discussion the next morning had it been caught by the citizen journalists and town criers. 

Strohl had to hold in some certain kind of noise as Will slipped his knee between Strohl’s legs, slightly brushing his crotch. He tried to control his breath, as well as other sounds that might come out of his mouth if Will decided to keep doing this.

Even though embarrassment was already filling him up, if not brimming, Strohl refused to shut his eyes because it’d mean he’d lost the chance to look at Will with such a little space between them. 

The only leg that supported him felt so weak that it could break down in any second now, toppling himself against Will at any moment now, but he prevailed. His head gradually got dizzy, and lots of blood rushed up to his head, a pair to his rapid change in heart rate wasn’t exactly helping the case, if not worsening the cause. It felt like a sickness, truth to be told, how his insides now taking turns in torturing him by being indescribably funny. Just like the previous tingling stomach churns, but ten times worse. 

And yet, despite everything, Strohl just had to put his attention on Will. He was too focused on Will’s eyes, how the blue contradict the red flush on his cheeks, also his lips and how it would taste, and the white hair he had not trimmed yet, and every feature of Will that was already attractive enough, even more sharper than it used to be. Strohl wondered if he had taken the days he’d spent with Will for granted and was punished by missing every growth checkpoints Will had undergone until he became …

A fine man, you are. Heismay’s words rang in his mind. 

Maybe it was a fatherly way to say Will was getting hotter.

Strohl swallowed a hard gulp. He could definitely see how Will turned out. No longer the scrawny eighteen year old boy he defended back in the recruitment center, even though the ideals he possessed were still all the same. It’s just his physical features. Just that. But the thought of it made his mind reeled nevertheless, even more lightheaded than before.

“I think they’re gone now.” Will whispered right into Strohl’s ear, now everything felt hot and humid and Strohl was going to lose his damnedest mind. 

Who was gone? Now?

“What?”

Will pulled away, now letting Strohl get back on his feet. His face was still flushed, with a couple of sweat beads on his temples, and it sent Strohl a pretty amount of relief that Will wasn’t as nonchalant as Strohl thought he might’ve been. “The ones who were chasing us? They’ve heeled off.” 

Oh. “Right.”

It had only occurred to Strohl, through his now hazy, infatuated mind, that the plan of Will included something about being indecent in public. To wand off the very pursuer who had been following them around by doing what some people deem as a shameful act had it been done in open spaces. Running into the king and his general ... making out, that is, must’ve been very awkward.

And much to his own surprise, Strohl didn’t exactly hate that, but he didn’t know if he exactly liked it either. It would’ve been better if they were not in public. And without the chase, too ... wait, what?

How did Will feel about it, though? The prior stunt he pulled must’ve consisted of a great deal of his own entertainment, too, knowing him. But when Strohl fully cast his eyes to Will in order to deduce anything from his expression, all he could see was the look of exhaustion plastered on Will’s face, along with the flush red that still hadn’t gone off yet.

“Hold on, are you okay?” Strohl put his hand on Will’s shoulder. 

“Just a little bit lightheaded,” Will replied as he dabbed his temple with the cuff of his sleeves. He then put the cloak’s hood back on, shrouding himself in the fabrics until the white hair was no longer. “We need to go back, I think.”

Mentally worrying about the king’s condition, traces of skepticism didn’t leave Strohl’s face along the way back even though Will’s hand was intertwined with his soundly along the way back. 

The next day after the festival, Will didn’t come out of his chamber at the exact time he’d usually get up. 

Strohl thought that it must’ve been partially his fault, now that the king was lying exhausted in his bed. Right before the royal healer came, Strohl received an earful from Hulkenberg just outside the chamber, asking about their whereabouts after yesterday’s opening ceremony, and what the king might have consumed during their sneakaway. 

“He was only asking for an ice lolly! Sure it can’t be that bad?” Strohl asked back, frustration starting to draw in his voice. “I was the one who purchased it, I ate the same thing too, so the likelihood of his ice lolly being poisoned were extremely low. The cause could be something totally unrelated to it.”

Hulkenberg crossed her arms together. “And what is it?” 

“Beyond me. We don’t even know what’s wrong with him yet,” Strohl replied. 

The temperature of Will’s body was fine, there wasn’t any significant headache or sore throat—or so Will expressed—and all Will did was sleep in a little bit more, claiming that he’s tired. Judging from how Will had torn his heart out, receiving multiple cuts and injuries from battles and enemy ambushes, and hell, even got turned into a Human by the one and only Louis Guaibern, declaring that he’s tired was a little bit more anticlimactic than anything else could ever be.

It could only be a fatigue for all Strohl and Hulkenberg knew, but they were no healer, and judgements and its measures couldn’t be set in stone until the royal healer came. 

Eventually, it didn’t take long until the ishkia healer arrived at the king’s chamber. Strohl and Hulkenberg followed after him, who immediately headed over to Will’s bed. 

He checked for the temperature and heartbeat, as well as tongue and the pupils of his eyes, and everything seemed normal to the healer. He then started asking a few questions regarding soreness, headache, bitter tongue, and all that Will mostly answered with varying no’s from no, not that I’m aware of, and absolutely no.

“So … is there any plausible diagnosis for His Majesty?” Hulkenberg asked.

“Not yet. I will have to ask you two questions, too. But I need you to be honest and tell nothing but the truth, so we can land on a correct diagnosis,” the healer said. It was almost ominous, the way he said it. “Did His Majesty eat anything … weird, or strange, prior to this?”

“General Strohl here said that His Majesty had eaten an … ice lolly, during the festival,” Hulkenberg said. Strohl shot a look of, but ice lolly is not weird, nor strange, and intentionally got ignored by the knight. “Other than that, His Majesty ate nothing but meals provided by the kingdom’s cook during the feast with royal guests.”

The healer only nodded, starting to get a hold of the current situation. “Then, is there any history of injury or accident in the past week?” 

With knitted eyebrows, Hulkenberg muttered. “Not that I—”

“Oh, there is,” Strohl quickly said.

“There is?!”

“He fell off his sword two days ago,” Strohl continued, not minding Hulkenberg who looked daggers at him. He’ll deal with her later. “Eupha … Lady Eupha said it had something to do with the intensity of magla in his sword. No other problem was stumbled upon after we imbued more magla in it. But we weren’t sure if the fall had any lasting side effects on His Majesty.”

“I’m fine,” Will forced out. Remembering he had gone bungee jumping multiple times back in Martira, succeeding and failing in doing so, his fall from the blade was nothing compared to that. “It was only a fall, partly because I wasn’t being careful, too. My knees weren’t even scratched.” 

“Yeah? And you look like you were very tired the next day, right before we got back to the castle, face flushed and all,” Strohl said, now clearly not talking to the healer, as his eyes fixed on Will’s. His tone was nagging, at this point, but he refused to buy any more of what Will deemed as fine and okay because it definitely wasn’t. “You’re not … fine, are you?”

“I said I’m fine, Strohl,” Will said, averting his gaze from Strohl, but the flush came back. Was it another symptom of his sickness, or he just got reminded by the thing he did yesterday, near the dead alley? Strohl wanted to point it out, but he’s sure the healer also caught it with his own eyes. 

The atmosphere was questionably tense. Strohl tried to brush it off. Will truly didn’t need him to be a worrywart right now, it seemed, so he let it go.  

Sensing the cold situation, the healer tried to ease it by checking Will’s heartbeat one more time. 

“I see it now,” the royal healer pulled back. He nodded to himself, now rubbing his chin in an understanding manner, finally getting the sea of details after ruminating the bigger picture.

“Any diagnosis?” Hulkenberg asked impatiently. “And prognosis, perchance?”

As much as Strohl wanted to remind Hulkenberg to not rush the healer, Will was in good hands, he was reluctant in actually doing so. It must be hard for her if the one she had sworn to protect falls into another kind of illness, even though it shouldn’t be as deadly as the curse was. So he held himself. 

“Oh, no, no. It’s not something serious, Lady Hulkenberg,” the healer let out a little laugh. Hulkenberg’s tense shoulders now starting to droop, now in a much relaxed stance. “His Majesty is currently undergoing a … growth spurt. He’ll be fine as long as he gets enough rest. It’ll be much needed to support the development of his body.”

“Growth … what?”

Hulkenberg and Strohl shared a confused look, before their eyes landed on Will, who was just as clueless. 

“From how I understand it, His Majesty is a late bloomer,” said the royal healer calmly. “It seemed like years of curse had hindered his body from growing properly during the formative years. Well, back then, the young prince clearly wasn’t able to grow like a normal kid or teenager does.”

An understanding hum came from Hulkenberg, perhaps instantly being reminded of the years she’d spent thinking the prince was dead. Will only casted her a comforting look, even though Hulkenberg no longer dwells on that, trying to convey that everything that happened back then didn’t really matter now. 

The healer continued. “It is only now that he is experiencing growth spurt, like normal boys would usually do at fourteen or sixteen years old. This prominently can be seen from His Majesty’s height.”

Then it all dawned on Strohl. Everything started to make sense. It wasn’t like he missed lots of moments where Will was gaining new centimetre, but the growth happened so quick that it might as well be done overnight. 

“But,” Hulkenberg spoke, pausing the ishkia’s explanation. “How were you able to tell His Majesty’s exact height? Your questions earlier didn’t include even a tiny bit about the matter, if I’m not mistaken?”

The ishkia healer paused for a moment, then smiling sheepishly as if he was caught in the middle of something. Hulkenberg and Strohl frowned a bit at the expression. He clearly knew something about Will that they didn’t, aside from being a total expert in medicine and health. 

“My wife told me,” the healer said, almost too bashful. “About the new tailored clothes. She said His Majesty was getting taller rather too fast … ah, but don’t tell her that I disclose this to you all.”

“Oh, right. Your wife was in charge of the new festival clothes …” Strohl muttered under his breath. He immediately remembered the way Will was worried if he’d inconvenienced the tailor, who had only returned from the honeymoon with such alterations for the hem. “I get it now.”

“Hmm. So that is how it is.”

“Besides, it also explains the fall he took a couple days ago. While I do not contest Lady Eupha’s statement, it could also be caused by the lifting of His Majesty’s center of gravity,” the healer rambled on. “His body was still adjusting itself with the rapid height increase, so problems in coordination, as well as clumsiness, are bound to happen.”

“Oh, goodness.”

Will decided to open his mouth. “Is there … anything I need to look out for?” 

The healer smiled, as he slightly shook his head. “It’s nothing to be worried about, Your Majesty. Truly.” 

With a grin tugged in his lips, Will turned his gaze to Strohl. “See, Strohl? It’s nothing,” he said, before managing to sit up, now back against the bed’s headboard. “I’m fine. Completely fine.”

Strohl sighed, defeated. His lips couldn’t refuse to form a genuine smile. “Yes, yes. You’re fine, alright.”

“If I may suggest, you two should look extra closely for His Majesty, during times like this. Making sure he’s not accidentally injuring himself,” added the healer as he packed his medical equipment into the container he'd brought earlier. 

“Of course. I am not letting him sneak out behind the royal guard’s back again so easily.”

Hulkenberg made her way just right before Will’s bed, relentlessly nagging him about sneaking away. Will tried to talk his way out of this one, along with the pleading eyes he’d thought would work on Hulkenberg, but she was a lot more strict, this time. Strohl’s ears picked something along the lines of Hulkenberg not going to let the general slide too for being a complicit, and he mentally prepared himself for an earful from Hulkenberg later.

The healer turned to Strohl, his gestures motioning them to make a distance from Hulkenberg and Will. “May I talk to you, General?”

“Yes?”

Though clueless, he followed around anyway when the healer brought him just near the chamber’s door. He spoke in a low voice, like it was a secret between the two of them. “Do remind His Majesty to take a well needed rest, as the rapid growth can cause a certain tiredness. Now, you may want to keep him company, General Strohl.”

“You can consider it’s already done. But why me, specifically?” 

Because it could be anyone, right? Gallica always did a great job accompanying him, and Hulkenberg was no less, too. Heismay would also probably heed the request seriously, far too serious, as Will was as dearly as his own son to him. Why Strohl, then?

“Here’s the thing. Proper emotional regulation can be hard when one experiences a growth spurt. The king might have an abrupt emotional turmoil, though it’s almost a rare case,” he said, then released a sigh. Strohl narrowed his eyes, hand on his hips. “Rare, but never zero occurrence, if I may say so.”

“Alright ... and somehow, it has something to do with me, I assume?” Strohl asked. Could it be a bad thing? 

“Well, just one of my diagnoses, based on how His Majesty was staring at you,” the ishkia healer spoke, still so ominous. The healer then came closer to whisper into Strohl’s ear. The clemar gulped. “Your company will help with the king’s lovesickness.”

Strohl blinked, stunned.

“What?” [ ]