Snow's White | ✓

16. Blue Ribbon

"Your wound is completely healed now?" Lucas asked, his eyes not lifting form the thick stack of parchment in front of him. Keir hummed from the long chair across the room of Lucas's study, his body elongated along its length as he popped dried apricots into his mouth with one hand, the other holding the pages of a book open. Lucas was busy signing wedding invitations, barely paying attention to the process as his hand efficiently signed the bottom of the papers thoughtlessly. The princes and Rose had been lounging in the study for the good part of the morning, Rose already finished signing the invitations before quickly being escorted to yet another dress fitting. Now, it was just Keir and Lucas quietly lounging in the room, the only sounds the occasional flip of the page and the monotonous scraping of quill against paper.

"How many left?" Keir suddenly asked, peering curiously over the back of the couch he was lying on, slapping the book he was reading shut as he bit on another dried apricot in boredom. 

"Too many," Lucas grumbled, Keir feeling sorry for the man's poor hand as he walked over to the prince, picking up one of the signed invitations. The royal family had spared no expense for the wedding, not even on the invitations. Lined with gold leaf and embossed with the royal seal in more gold, the gaudy invitations were almost blinding. The wedding has been set for three month's time, catching the end of Spring when the flowers would be flourishing and the weather clear. Three months too soon. 

With the wedding fast approaching, Keir had been spending more and more time with the prince, savouring the last moments he could have with the man before he let go of his feelings, hoping the gold band that will be snugly fit around his finger be enough of a deterrent to wash away whatever lingering affection he may have. 

'Until the wedding,' Keir vowed to himself, putting down the invitation before sitting on the edge of Lucas's heavy desk, the prince glancing up for a moment as Keir watching him sign more invitations. 'When you and Rose are married, I'll leave this kingdom and forget about you.' 

"Okay, I've had it with this," Lucas suddenly erupted, throwing his quill into the nearly depleted ink pot in frustrations, getting up from his chair and grabbing his coat. Keir laughed, also getting up, brow raised.

"Let's go riding," Lucas said, Keir's face falling, cheeks paling. Now a week after the festival, Keir still hadn't been down that side of the palace, though not without effort. He had often left his chambers in the night and walked down the path to the stables, yet when he saw the glimmer of candelight shining through the windows, he couldn't bring himself to step pass the threshold. He didn't know what Ahri was doing, but was too fearful of what could transpire if he saw the man again. As the days passed, Keir's fear of Ahri slandering him was lessening, though he worried that if the two had another confrontation that would change.

Bury and forget. Dust under the rug. 

"I'm not sure if I'm up for it," Keir said, giving Lucas an apologetic look. "I just..."

"Your wound is healed," Lucas replied, his hand touching Keir's side, above the wound hidden under his shirt and grey waistcoat. Keir took a hasty step backwards, coughing loudly. "It'll only be a short ride. If I'm gone for too long, these invitations will never get signed in time."

Keir didn't say anything, hesitant, causing Lucas to give the man a discreet smile. As Keir continued to stay silent, Lucas just laughed, grabbing the prince's wrist to pull him the direction of the stables. Keir found himself putting up little resistance as he stumbled along behind Lucas, not quite wanting the other prince to let go of his arm.

 As they neared the stables, a group of stablehands and servants rushed up to them, bowing politely. Keir's eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for a particular brown head, and felt some relief when he noticed that Ahri wasn't around.