Curse - Septiplier

23: The Runaway

Mark's POV

I was awake long before anyone else. I lay on my bed, my hands behind my head as I stared up at my ceiling. The gray color of dawn began to seep through my windows, and I still did not move. My thoughts were on Jack instead, and what had happened between us yesterday. I didn't want to lose that man, he meant more to me than anyone else does. He reminded me much of my younger brother, and yet he was more than that. He was a best friend, a companion, another soldier, a prince, and the love of my life. I wasn't ready to lose him, not yet. I would make this work out, because I couldn't let Jack go, not yet. I had fallen too far for him already.

There was a knock on my door, and I tilted my head slightly to stare at it. This noise had interrupted my thoughts, my processes and my ideas, but it didn't stop me from realizing that it was also hardly dawn. Who was up at such an ungodly hour, and more importantly why were they here and attempting to speak with me? When the knock rang out again, I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh, rolling over and falling out of bed. I pulled myself in a sluggish manner to my feet and made my way over to the door. I stumbled into the wooden object, only to pull myself back and open it, staring down at the smaller man on the other side. With Jack running through my mind all night, sleep did not come easy.

On the other side of the door was a royal messenger, and he stood tall despite his actual height. I looked down at him for a moment in surprise before shaking my head and letting out a brief yawn. There was an awkward silence as I did this, and then the man cleared his throat and spoke.

"The King demands your presence, it's urgent he says," the messenger said in a small voice, and my eyes widened. Urgent? What could that possibly mean? My first thought was that we were back at war again and some other raid was on the horizon. Did I need to bring a sword or something else? My thoughts raced as I realized this could equally be about how close and I Jack were. Did they realize now that there was something more going on between us? Was it possible that someone had caught on already and told the King about what was going on? I swallowed nervously, and then with a bowed head I looked at the messenger.

"I'll be there immediately." I told him in a somewhat somber voice. The messenger nodded and turned away, leaving me to lean back against the door after I closed it. What should I do? I knew better than to ask myself that question as I began to put some better clothes on. There wasn't a way to avoid this conversation, as I knew that the King would seek me out no matter what and find some way to speak to me, whether the General dragged me back to the kingdom or the other soldiers did. I left my house in the early morning cold air, my hands turning red as I began to walk and my breath visible on the air. I might as well face that this conversation could go several different directions, and I doubted any of them would have a positive ending.

I approached the castle, entering the throne room to find a surprise waiting for me. There were several messengers already milling about, and other soldiers who were talking to the General and looking at a large map of the region around us. Other war generals and elder soldiers were speaking to the King, and the room went awfully silent as King Jordan himself stood up and pointed at me, causing all the attention to span down to me standing awkwardly at the doorway.

"Mr Fischbach, just the man I was looking for." King Jordan boomed, and he beckoned me over. "Please, come here. The rest of you are dismissed for now." The room emptied, and I moved from the entrance to allow people to leave easier. I made my way over to the throne where the King was sitting and removing a drink from a platter that one of the chefs had severed to him. I could smell its contents from where I stood walking across the room. It was strong, it was potent, and it was meant to get rid of the dizzy, half drunken feeling the morning after heavily consuming alcohol. I frowned, wanting to slow my pace and maybe return to my own house, but I walked forward anyway, bowing down to the King as he chugged his beverage. "Please, stand up, this is urgent." His voice was strained as he returned the cup to the chef and turned to me.