Heavy is the Head That Wears the Crown

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The annoying royal dresser, some foreign blond named Aoyama, was the one to wake Katsuki the next morning. The Prince did not appreciate being woken up at all, but once he remembered why, he suffered through it with a bitten tongue. 

Traditional Rathian courting attire was so disgusting Katsuki would rather try to cut off his arm with a rusted, serrated spoon than wear it. So Aoyama had to improvise; not that it mattered to Katsuki if he was inconveniencing him. He was doing it to save the whole Kingdom, so the blond dresser could shove his foreign mutterings right up his ass, for all he cared.

In the end, Katsuki was dressed in a black tunic with untied strings—revealing his collarbone in an unusual fashion for a Rathian Prince—and grey pants tucked into black boots. The royal dresser had given him two necklaces for him to wear, a small gold chain with a single amazonite crystal in the locket and a smaller silver chain with the Rathian royal family's crest imprinted on a silver coin. Aoyama hadn't even tried with Katsuki's hair. He was good, but not that good. The Prince had his golden gauntlets on, pure usual, but had his regular gloves on underneath. Katsuki wouldn't be taking any of his personal belongings, so whatever he wanted to have at Valor he would have to carry on his person. His sword was sheathed at his waist, too. Mitsuki had slipped something in the scabbard without his knowledge.

When he entered the throne room without his usual kick-the-door-open-and-yell-at-his-parents-to-quit-sucking-tongue antics, the rulers of Rath shared a concerned glance. This wasn't the son they knew, raised, and cherished. While he made the whole ordeal sound like it was nothing, his parents and castle staff (seeing as they had known Katsuki for all his life) knew better.

The Valorian carriage would be arriving any minute now; the messenger had been sent the second Katsuki made up his mind. He was coming back to Rath along with the carriage.

"Oi, kid." He looked over at his mother. "C'mere." Katsuki did so, but not without an exasperated roll of his eyes more in character for him. Queen Mitsuki surprised the both of them by pulling her son into a fierce embrace. Katsuki just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before finally caving in, wrapping his arms around her back and hooking his chin over her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, you know that? I wouldn't have been able to do what you're doing when I was your age. I'm damn proud of you, Katsuki. You're gonna make the best King in the world." She then pulled back and shoved him to Masaru, but not before pressing a kiss to her son's forehead.

Masaru all but suffocated his son with his hug, actually lifting Katsuki's feet off the ground. "I'm so proud of you, son," he murmured, choking up. "When... when you get to Valor, you promise me one thing."

"Yeah, ya big sap?" Katsuki sighed, repeatedly swatting at his tall father's shoulders until he finally put the ash blond back on the ground. He acted like he disliked it, but Katsuki had been touch-starved for a good portion of his life. These moments now were making up for all those years without his parents even realizing it. It made him feel... missed. He had honestly been expecting his parents (or at least his mother) to rejoice about this for two reasons. One: Rath would be saved, and two: Katsuki would be gone.

"You promise me you won't change who you are just so your husband will like you, you hear me? You be just who you always are, because that's the best version of you anyone can ever ask for," Masaru said sternly. It surprised Katsuki, hearing that kind of tone from his docile father (it turned Mitsuki on).