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Part two: Saboteur x Prince.
The pocket watch felt like a still beating heart, cold and beating pressed against his thigh as the minutes droned on. He chided himself for arriving early, a mistake to be sure. With royalty, the event started when he decided to grace it with his presence. The saboteur should expect nothing less from a privileged prince.
The night was deafening and still. Every sound was funneled to his ears. The clank of armor from the knights on the other side of the wall. The September wind biting at him. He swore he could hear the chill of it as it brushed against his ears. It was certain that autumn had arrived. He heard every cicada, every locust flapping its wings. He watched a locust as it took flight with an obnoxious whirr to its wings. It perched atop the toe of his boot. He kicked his foot watching as it flew away. Behind him he heard a soft thud.
He whirled around to see the prince. His disguise was lacking. Had it been more skillfully crafted, he wouldn’t have recognized him at first glance. It was a dreadful attempt at concealing his identity for a night out, if there was any attempt made at all. A woolen cloak with a gaudy gold clasp. The cloak had an odd waxy sheen, perhaps treated by lanolin. His gloves were the same elf-green and lanolin treated. The saboteur should expect nothing less, he wouldn’t dishonor the royal tradition for even one night. The glasses didn’t help either, but they were a necessity. It seemed every heir of the kingdom had dreadful vision. Thankfully, they were simple. Sterling silver and clear, not tinted.
The prince’s tight hug parted his cloak, slightly. As the hug forced the air from the saboteur’s lungs he felt the warmth of the prince’s skin. He wore but a single layer under the cloak. A low-necked button up. Oversized and reminiscent of commoner fashion. Possibly, the only satisfactory part of his disguise. As they separated, a kiss lingered against his lips already tainted with champagne.
“I’m glad I still caught you,” the prince said. His voice was hushed and the smile on his lips was audible. “I was wrestling with the ledger. My sisters decided on a shopping spree today.”
His informant was spot on, the prince indeed was in charge of managing the royal family's finances. Perfect. The image of him sipping champagne as he inserted every receipt into the ledger was oddly humbling. Just a regular guy drinking before a date while finishing his work.
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