Chapter 50 - The Fool And His 'Lover'

Days went by on this next three years for Leron and Vladstin so sweetly, so sweet in fact that it aches.

They had meals together and feed each other, even in front of other people including the king and queen themselves. They were taught by King Lazar to ride horses and hunt, and Leron would spar with him through swords or through fists. Leron would always win the swordfight, Vladstin wins the hand-in-hand combat, while King Lazar would complain about his aching hip.

But whenever it's Leron and Vladstin's turn to spar or compete in any game and sport, Vladstin always lets Leron win and find an excuse as to why he lost. Leron would see through it and grumble that he's not taking him seriously, and Vladstin would just laugh and kiss him on the cheek.

That's how they spent their lives every day. Leron both hated and treasured the bittersweet feeling that all these wonderful days are like fleeting clouds, and learned to appreciate every single one of them.

Once, Vladstin had his portrait drawn for him to be put in the throne room, as his coronation was coming near and he was becoming a more active member of the royal duties.

Across the room, Leron drank his tea, feeling oddly satisfied at just looking at Vladstin's pose on the chair. He had been admiring Vladstin's figure and it was the only thing filling his thoughts.

How could this man only have one portrait until now? His father had many portraits before he was coronated, he almost had one every half year and had a whole gallery dedicated to them. A man that vain without much looks should not have that many paintings of him in the first place.

But a person with so much vibrant energy and contagious liveliness as Vladstin? He deserves a painting for every waking hour of his life, to capture his torturous smile that would captivate its beholder no matter what they think of him.

He is beautiful when he rides horses in the sunset, exuding pure elegance. He is beautiful when he fights half-naked and drenched in sweat, showing his chiseled muscles that must be sculpted by the gods themselves. He is even beautiful when he says things like—

"My bum hurts." Vladstin complained, rubbing his behind. "Can't I stand up for a bit and take a break with Leron?"

"Patience, Vladstin. We just started a while ago. The master had barely dipped his brush on the canvas." Queen Vanesda chided disapprovingly on a chair beside Leron, holding out a pinky while taking slow sips on her cup.

She and King Lazar had aged quite a bit from when Leron first met them, but he still sees them as one of the most beautiful couples on Earth, both from their appearance and character.

"I don't want to be alone in the portrait." Vladstin argued. His voice was much deeper now yet remained its pleasing mellow tone. "Leron should be in it as well."

"Why?" Leron chuckled.

If he joined in, the portrait would be ruined. He would be like a mangy stray dog beside a spectacular, awe-inspiring albino wolf. No, if he sees the portrait with his loathsome face there, he would not be able to appreciate the painter's skills or Vladstin's beauty.

"Because you and I will be the future kings of Crescentia, remember?" Vladstin reclined on the chair with a dry smirk like a devious scoundrel would, but still managed to look breathlessly stunning. "It's not fair that only one of the kings gets a portrait. His spouse should be there as well. So come here, darling." 

Leron reddened and looked down. "You think too far ahead, Vladstin."

"No, I believe he's quite right." King Lazar grinned. "When my dearest queen and I had only been betrothed, I asked for a painting of us together as well."

"But, Father...." Leron was still not used to calling King Lazar 'Father' or anything other than Your Majesty, even though he had been more of a father to him than his biological one. "We are not even officially engaged yet."

"Then you are now, right at this moment!" King Lazar proclaimed, pointing a finger to the sky. "No need to be shy, anyone who tries to go against your engagement or marriage shall be considered a traitor and receive a hefty punishment! We support and love the both of you very much!"

"I know that, Father." Leron smiled uneasily. "It's just that.... This is new for me, to be surrounded by people who are indiscriminate to such matters. Even just the notions of lovers of the same sex in Ilvedia is... taboo."

"This is new for us too, Leron. We never had two kings or two queens before, but the Crescentians had never been against love." Queen Vanesda patiently reminded. " Do not be afraid, my child. Vladstin wants you to be in every part of his life, and we would want to, if you are willing. Lovers or not, you are my boys and my family, so I want what makes you happy."

Leron felt a stinging pain threatening to well up on his eyes, but he hid it with a humble smile. This is precisely the life he had always feared. A life that does not seem to have any worries, with people who genuinely care for him, yet secretly aware that this life and these people would soon perish. He would be a fool to believe in true happiness now, and he won't be believing it anytime soon. 

"Thank you, Mother and Father." He merely said. "If Vladstin insists, then I shall join him."

He settled down his cup with a slight shakiness that was unnoticeable to anyone in the room, and walked over to his 'lover' with a melancholic smile. "Shall I just sit with you then?"

"Yes, yes! Come here!" Vladstin nodded profusely, patting the velvet red divan. Leron sat down reluctantly with a plastered smile.

Being up close Vladstin always gives him a slight pang of envy. Since they have met, he had always harbored some form of envy or contempt against Vladstin. Maybe it was because his father and the people of Ilvedia had indoctrinated him so much as a child that it became a part of his subconscious to loathe anyone who seems superior to him.

Ilvedians are like that, they pretend to get along with their neighbors but keep a watchful eye if they wore a piece of new jewelry or had a new carriage.

When they first met, he actually thought that 'A savage shouldn't look that good.'

That envy was watered down by the real affection he had developed for the Crescentians over the years. But it was replaced by deep self-hatred, of feeling that he would never amount to anything because of how good and beautiful these people are. Right now, his thoughts are more on the lines of 'Someone who looks that good shouldn't exist in this rubbish world in the first place.'

Yes, he had convinced himself that the world doesn't deserve good people like Vladstin , his family, and his countrymen. This world is ugly, monstrous, and cruel, like him. They don't belong here, so he's doing them a favor by not letting them suffer from this world.

"Earth to Leron? Hello?" Vladstin waved a hand over his face. "Why are you just staring off to space like that? Is something wrong?"

"Oh." Leron snapped out of his internal monologue. "No, no. I was just.... a bit dazed from the light in this area."

"Ah, is it too blinding? I'll tell them to lower the curtains."

Leron shook his head. "No need, the master might have difficulty in painting us without the lighting. We're already giving him enough trouble as it is. Is it really alright for you to start over, Master Monxer?"

The painter with the long goatee made gestures that he doesn't mind, but Leron could notice that if he was able to speak, he would have a tinge of annoyance in his voice. His eyes with weird rectangular pupils stared lazily at the two and made hand gestures for them to get into position.

"How shall we pose together?" Vladstin asked him. "I'm alright with anything that's comfortable to you."

"Then...." Leron thought carefully of a pose that would not make him see Vladstin's handsome face even through his peripherals, but would still be perceived as intimate. "How about I lay my head on your chest?"

"Ohh, I like that. Wait, I thought of something too!" Vladstin rushed to the side and picked one of the red roses on the vase. "I will hold this out to you like I'm giving it to you while you lay on my chest. And you will also hold on to it, as if accepting it."

He came back and they went into position, giving the single blood-red rose a sniff with a pleased expression. "Ah, this reminds me of our first dance together."

" It was when we danced the 'allegratius' on my first Crescentian birthday, right?" Leron remembered. They had a few more of that every year on his birthday that it became sort of a tradition. 

"Yeah, I always end up as the Fool since then." Vladstin chuckled.

"Because you wouldn't let me be the Fool." Leron took a sniff at the rose too.

Vladstin smiled down at him. "I don't mind being the fool for my lover over and over again."

Leron didn't know what to say, because it was really too ironic. He listened to the gentle patter of Vladstin's heartbeat, and compared it to his own which were like numerous thunder and lightning striking all at the same time. Vladstin is at peace when he's with him, while he was in morbid disarray.

Love and fear, happiness and resentment, mixing together like clashing colors and resulting in hideous shades of gray and mud.

Leron had noticed that on the outside, the rose he held looked perfect and spotless. But he realized that there were dark spots on the inner petals, signaling that it wouldn't last for long and would soon wilt. Yet no one else but he can see it.

'How very ominous, yet fitting', he thought.

"You're just like this rose." He said, knowing Vladstin would not understand it.

"Thank you!" Vladstin grinned. "I'd say you're like the most blooming of all roses too."

'No.' Leron wanted to say. 'You are the rose and I'm the black spot that will stain you, causing you to rot.'

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"Vladstin! Vladstin, answer me!"

Vladstin had remained in a state of quiet for almost an hour that Leron had become worried and shook him repeatedly. It was like he was asleep, but with his eyes wide open and gazing into the void. It scared the human prince so much that he tried desperately to make him snap out of it.

Vladstin finally blinked, eyelashes fluttering. "So that was how you saw me....."

"Huh? Are you alright?" Leron couldn't think of anything else and was just relieved that Vladstin came back again.

Vladstin did not answer and stood up. He zoomed around, so fast that Leron can barely follow him and just saw gusts of wind. It made him dizzy so he finally asked. "Vladstin, what are you looking for?"

"Our portrait." Vladstin answered.

Leron was confused and said. "Oh, I'm afraid it burnt down along with everything else—"

"No." Vladstin denied the thought and did not give up. "It must be here somewhere, not everything was burnt down."

"What do you even need it for?" Leron also looked around since the vampire lord was so persistent.

Vladstin did not answer for a while. He stopped moving, and stared at a pile of rubble. There was no sign that anything was hidden there, but he can feel it. With his inhuman strength, he lifted the heavy boulders within seconds.

There it was. A broken frame with a painting covered in soot. The only thing left was a vague figure of a smiling boy resting on someone's chest holding a crimson rose.

Seeing the portrait flashed all of Leron's thoughts that were revealed in the memory. Leron who actually cared, who would rather end his life than kill him, who regarded him as beautiful. Leron who was scared of being together with him because he did not want to be made a fool of by fate itself that had always been cruel to him.

Lovely, innocent Leron, who did not yet cross the line between conscience or cowardice. Who did not yet pick cowardice and became a cold-blooded killer.

Vladstin touched the face of his painted lover and felt his dead heart slowly beat for a while. 

"Vladstin?"

And when he heard the voice of his killer, it stopped again— empty and hollow. 

"I wish you stayed as the person in the portrait forever." Vladstin said. "Because I realized I'm not truly numb or emotionless. There is one emotion that stayed and was rekindled again."

"What is it?" Leron's eyes widened from anticipation.

"My love for my former lover, Leron."

Leron did not understand this, but also does at the same. He licked his dry and chapped lips and cautiously asked, "So love is the solution? Then why do you still seem apathetic—" 

"It's because on the night you stabbed me, my lover had also died. You are not him." Vladstin smiled sadly, a little more genuine this time. "You had killed us both..... and for that, I can never forgive you."