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Join the Server“Your Majesty, my body…”
At some point Owen’s hand had slipped beneath Fria’s robe and was moving up his thigh. As Fria tried to pull the garment back down and instinctively stepped away, Owen tightened his grip around his leg.
“I think I should wash up first… ah!”
With ease, Owen lifted him and set him back on the bed. Climbing up after him, he pulled at Fria’s ankles, laying his upper body against the sheets while drawing his lower body closer. Then he roughly pushed the robe aside.
“Your Majesty, I’m covered in sweat. I should clean myself…”
Flustered, Fria caught Owen’s arm as the emperor’s hand wandered lower.
“If you bathe now, won’t you just have to wash again afterward?”
His meaning was simple enough: if they were intimate after a bath, Fria would only end up sweaty again, so there was little point in washing first.
“But then… at least some scented oil. Y-Your Majesty!”
Remembering Owen’s formidable size, Fria shivered and stammered out a request for oil. The box containing it was only a few steps away, but for a young man already fired with desire, those few steps might as well have been a mile.
Repeatedly interrupted, the impatient emperor lowered his head.
“Your Majesty! Not there- don’t… ah…”
The unexpected sensation left Fria twisting away in embarrassment. His legs trembled uncontrollably, making it difficult to stay still, until Owen grasped his thighs firmly to steady him.
Seeing Owen bent over him, Fria could scarcely believe what was happening.
“Please… stop… enough…”
The unfamiliar intensity made his thoughts blur. Overwhelmed and unable to make sense of it, he could only plead weakly for him to stop.
Eventually Owen lifted his head, and Fria, mortified, squeezed his eyes shut.
He had never encountered anything like this in any of the books he had secretly read. Even the more daring texts had spoken only of ordinary intimacy and nothing beyond that.
Pressed for time and patience, Owen soon drew close again, and the two embraced.
“Your Majesty…”
As Owen moved, Fria’s expression shifted with every motion, and watching those changing reactions fascinated him.
“Ah… Your Majesty…”
Everywhere he went, people called him “Your Majesty,” but hearing the same title repeated even in private suddenly struck Owen as strangely unsatisfying.
“Say my name.”
“Your Majesty…”
Thinking Fria had not heard him, Owen reached up and gently touched his cheek until their eyes met.
“My name.”
“How could I possibly…”
Receiving only hesitation, Owen sighed.
“Your Majesty…”
At last, flustered and breathless, Fria whispered,
“O-Owen…”
Hearing his own name spoken at last brought a flicker of satisfaction to Owen.
“Owen… please…”
The moment stretched on until both were left exhausted, their breathing uneven in the warm room.
****
Fria could barely move a finger.
When Owen returned after briefly stepping away, Fria simply shook his head in surrender. He had no strength left even to speak.
The emperor came back carrying a damp towel and quietly helped wipe away the sweat from Fria’s skin. Accepting the unexpected attention, Fria relaxed.
“How long has it been?”
Confused, Fria looked at him silently.
“I still find it hard to believe you’ve been suffering from that illness.”
“It’s understandable that you’d doubt it.”
“So when did it begin?”
“A long time ago.”
The cool cloth against his overheated skin felt refreshing enough that Fria closed his eyes.
“A long time…”
Owen frowned in thought. It could not have begun on the night they first met, that encounter had hardly been the sort to inspire tender feelings.
“It’s become something I’m used to,” Fria said softly. “There are inconveniences, but I’ve learned to live with them.”
Used to it? Owen found that difficult to imagine. Byron would burst into his office the instant he developed a new infatuation, yet Fria had apparently carried his feelings in silence for years.
“If there’s something troubling you, tell me. As long as it isn’t asking to leave this place.”
Fria considered the offer before shaking his head.
“Thank you for saying so. I’m accustomed to it now.”
“That long? Not something recent?”
“Before I came to the Empire,” Fria replied quietly. “Long before.”
“You knew of me even before arriving here? Without ever seeing me?”
“What?”
Startled by the sudden shift in conversation, Fria blinked.
“Of course I knew who Your Majesty was. I even saw the portrait that was sent.”
“So that’s why you wanted my paintings.”
Why was he talking about portraits again? Fria, who by now felt thoroughly overwhelmed by imperial images, quickly shook his head.
“I’ve seen more than enough. If I ever want to look again, I’ll just use this.”
He lifted the locket hanging from his neck. After seeing Owen’s face so often, he felt he could picture it perfectly even with his eyes closed.
“Is that so?”
Before Owen could continue questioning him, a loud growl came from Fria’s stomach.
Only then did the emperor remember that Fria had slept through tea time and missed dinner entirely.
The physician’s advice echoed in his mind, “Increase his meals and keep him warm”.
At least they had managed the latter. Although it was late, imperial kitchens could still produce a feast at a single command. Owen himself had expended considerable energy as well, so he rose to summon the attendants.
****
“So that’s why no one answered.”
Descending in search of the chief steward after repeated calls went unanswered, Owen found the old man fast asleep on a chaise in the official bedchamber, snoring softly. After enthusiastically recounting stories about the emperor for hours, he had exhausted himself.
Rather than wake him, Owen headed back upstairs.
Fria looked puzzled when the emperor reappeared empty-handed.
“Your Majesty?”
Without explanation, Owen began helping him dress, making sure every article of clothing was properly in place before stepping back in satisfaction.
“Your Majesty… it’s much too late for a walk…”
Before Fria could finish, Owen lifted him effortlessly.
“Your Majesty! Please put me down! I can walk on my own!”
Thinking Fria lacked the strength to manage, Owen had simply carried him. Once set on the floor, however, Fria protested with surprising spirit.
“I’m not a wild boar or a mountain goat that needs hauling around!”
“So you have enough energy to complain.”
“But where are we going at this hour?”
“Come with me.”
He offered no further explanation and started walking.
Fria tried to follow but his legs immediately gave out, forcing him to sit back down.
“So you can shout, but you can’t walk.”
‘Whose fault do you think that is?’
Fria shot him a resentful look as he struggled unsuccessfully to stand.
Owen returned, turned his back, and tapped his own shoulder.
Surely he didn’t expect to carry him? Fria recoiled, shaking his head. As a child he had often begged Gir to give him piggyback rides, but as an adult the very thought was unbearably embarrassing.
After waiting a moment in vain, Owen simply reached over, drew Fria’s arms over his shoulders, and lifted him up with practiced ease.
Suspended off the ground, Fria instinctively wrapped his arms around Owen’s neck.
“Your Majesty!”
Supporting Fria beneath the legs, Owen replied in his usual calm voice.
“You’re noisy.”
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