Part 2

“Tell me,” Quatre said softly. “Full of your own shrewdness, you are.”

Duo rested against the curve of the spiraling stairwell, his arms crossed, grinning down at him from two steps above. The torch light flickers around them casting shadows.

“Your acrobat is invincible, my prince,” he whispered, taunting him as much as possible. “He will win tomorrow.”

“Will he?” He laughed. “They have sent half their soldiers against my poor champion.”

“You miscalculate your fighter. They say he is a berserker.”

“Berserker,” Quatre said, gazing at Duo thoughtfully. “How know you of such?”

“Why in the court yard, in preparation of the bout tomorrow. Known as pure and courteous, he is well liked by the common men. He keeps to himself has a small elite group of fighters at his command, a chapel and does not traffic with ladies. But when they ordered him to play your acrobat because of his known fluid grace…I thought to take him aside. My prince, and tell him of your wishes.

“My wishes,” Quatre lifted a pale blond eyebrow.

“You wish to bestow your favor on him, my prince,” Duo smile angelically. “Did you not? But he would have none of it. I feared—until I walked with him past the hall. I caused him to look upon you my lord and graciousness, I only wish you might haft seen his face.”

“What was in his face?” Quatre asked sharply.

Duo leaned his head back against the curving wall. “Indifference. And then—” He paused. “But what does my lord prince care of his thoughts? He is only a commoner.”

Quatre narrowed his eyes on Duo. He reached up a stroked the falcon’s breast gently suggestively. Duo did not change his lazy stance but he did give him a nervous half smile.

“Indifference, my prince,” he said more respectfully, “until he had a fair sight of you. And then he became just such a witless lover as we needed to discouraged the duke’s intentions.”

“Didst thou promise him anything,” the prince asked coldly.

“My prince the sight of you is promise enough for many a man or woman,” Duo murmured. “I made none but I can not vouch for what blissful hopes he might have in his own mind.”

Quatre regarded him for a long time. Duo looked young though they were close in age. He was a very pretty young man with long chestnut hair. His bluish-purple eyes were always bright with laughter—laughter that echoed from him as he killed. He had the face of an angel, the heart of a demon with the soul of a devil.

Under Quatre’s perusal he stirred nervously. Duo dreaded not on the earth but three things: the plague, being violated and Heero Yuy. Violation was the only thing Quatre could use against him, for he had no mastery of the plague and none over Heero Yuy.

When Quatre’s wife had passed suspiciously the young prince found himself drawn into a territorial battle over lands that bordered the ancient holdings of the clans from the east. His father-in-law had managed his daughter’s land but the man had died mere weeks before.

Quatre’s father would not trust such a far removed heir with an army to defend the large holding he now possessed. Instead Quatre had to bargained with Wufei Chan—for amnesty against his aggressive movements along the border areas. He agreed. He would cast a blind eye to such activities. In order to seal the bargain Quatre took Duo as a gift and Heero Yuy into his service. The first was because Wufei thought he was a sodomite, the second because Wufei didn’t trust him.

“Your interference displeases me,” he said to Duo. “You do not understand the rules of such a challenge—it has done nothing to discourage the duke. In fact he now can prove his proposal as just. These border lords believe that to win a fight is to prove ones self. It shall be harder to spun his offer.”

“I know not of these foolish border customs,” Duo said with scorn. “Yet if you speak true—should your fighter win—then ye can live as you choose. Then you may take your acrobat and hie off to somewhere private uncontested.”

“Are you perchance spurning my love?” Quatre asked innocently.

Duo eyes widen in alarm then narrow suddenly. He tossed a look over his shoulder turned and sprinted soundlessly into the darkness. Alone Quatre stood on the stairs. He waited a moment then slowly cautiously moved towards a dark doorway.

“Come, my prince.” Duo’s ghostly voice drifted, beckoning him. Quatre took a breath and stepped though the door.

Duo knelt over a pale form lit in moonlight. As he came closer he could see no blood but knew that man was dead. Duo looked up waiting for his instruction he was smiling softly.

“To my water closet,” he told him. “I will make sure none disturbs us. He left Duo stripping the assassin of his royal colors.

Quatre moved quickly back down the stairs to the chapel where hence he came from after supper. He demanded sweet honeyed wine and flowers. When he was certain they were about his request he returned.

Duo had waited in the darkness his prey stripped naked at his feet. He hefted the body to his shoulder, adept at that too though he staggered a little beneath the weight. “Fat border swine,” he muttered. He flashed Quatre a grin over the pale legs of the dead man.

The prince stood back with an unforgiving stare. This made Duo smile even brighter. Bravado, perhaps, or real amusement, it was no more possible to know his true feelings.

Duo struggled more as he worked the corpse into the privy well taking extra measure to insure body would not wedge in the fall. With a loud splash it fell. It had not wedged.

* * *

The prince held audience amid silks and jewels, surrounded by exotic courtiers. The room was scented with perfumes and of course he did not remember him. He did not even looked up when his entranced was announced.

The young prince was choosing a bauble to wear to bed. His servant held a jewelry case out for him. He merely lifted a hand and signal to Trowa to approach one side of the bed.

The long haired man that had carried the prince’s command that he challenge for him sat sprawled on the other side. Trowa looked straight ahead, still from the edge of his vision he could see the other staring at him.

The prince choose a medallion, the long haired man moved at his side reaching around him to fasten the chain at his throat. He stroked the soft hair at his neck, kissing his shoulder as he did it. He watched Trowa as he caressed him.

“Looked my beloved prince,” he said as he kissed his ear. “Yon acrobat wants you.”

“So much the worst for him,” Quatre said indifferently.

Trowa had made the mistake of glancing down at the pair. Both had changed and were wearing fine silks of pale white. The prince’s long dressing gown was open to the waist. The sheer material could not hide the pale skin underneath. The prince’s companion was wearing even less his dressing grown only came down to his knees. Trowa felt the room suddenly grow warm.

“Only looked at him, my prince!” The other was grinning in delight at Trowa. “He wishes to touch you as I do. Just so—” He slipped his arms around Quatre’s waist never taking his purple eyes from Trowa.

The prince brushed him away. “Come, leave your mischief. Wish to sharpen your claws on him, do you? Play then but recall that he is of use to me.” He turned for one instant and met Duo’s eyes. “Kill him not, or I shall set Heero upon you.”

This threat had a salutary effect upon the young man. He glanced at the exotic courtier standing quietly to the side. “My prince,” he said submissively, drawing away from him.

“Brush my hair,” Quatre commanded of him.

In silence he took up the brush and gently worked it though the prince’s hair. As he worked Quatre lifted a hand beckoning Trowa closer. He moved to the edge of the bed lowering himself to one knee.

Quatre laughed. “Truly, thou art the most courteous fighter.” He had never met someone so devoted, for a second he almost believed Duo’s ridiculous tale. “I will stand when the trumpeters herald your presence upon the field. You must wear my favor for the entry—then I wish it back.”

“Yes, my prince.”

“Excellent,” Quatre said stopping Duo’s administrations with an impatient flick of his wrist. He then ordered the servant to bring him a cup of honeyed wine. “Sweet Duo, Heero I would not give you to.”

Trowa stayed silent. The prince looked at him full for the first time, scanned him from face to foot in the manner a hosteller might assess a horse. A faint smile played at his lips as he looked into his eyes.

“Word has come to my ear that you are ruthless in combat and has never lost a bout for the duke’s revels,” he murmured. “I would like to see that.”

“I shall endeavor to please my prince,” Trowa answered automatically.

He snuck a glance up at the prince. He was flawless like an angel. Trowa wanted to look away but it was impossible the pale radiance of him would not be denied. The irony was not lost of Trowa. The prince was far from angelic. His prince was selfish and cruel. His request set Trowa in the sorest dilemma a man could be placed. He was set to challenge a duke for the favor of the royal prince in his own holding nonetheless.

Yet he would serve. He was his sworn lord. Beyond doubt or motive he would obey him. It was not his place to ask for reason, even if he did not remember him.

And he did not. When he looked at him so negligently, he was certain, almost certain, that he did not.

A sack of jewels must be not be much to such as he as he would have been much not so long ago, a preposterous boy, no one, a nothing. Still why did he ask for him, if he did not remember?

The prince bent his head to take a sip from the gold goblet and paused before he tasted it. He stared into the wine for a long moment, his pale lashes faint against his skin. When he looked up, it was towards the exotic guardsman and the handful of servants.

“You wilt be valiant in my name on the morrow,” he murmured, glancing back towards Trowa over the rim of his cup.

Trowa bowed his head.

“See that it is so.” With a gesture he dismissed him. Trowa turned from the sight of Duo leaning forward to kneed his shoulders.

At the door he stopped, looked back. “My prince,” he said quietly.”

Quatre glanced up, lifting his pale brows.

“Such as he could not kill me,” Trowa said nodding towards Duo. That said he turned and walked out. He could hear Duo’s hiss of displeasure.

As the knight departed, Duo leaned forward resting his chin of Quatre’s shoulder. Quatre lifted the cup of wine to his mouth and said, “share with me.”

“My prince,” he murmured, “I prefer your own sweetness.”

Quatre tilted his head back, allowing him to trace his mouth upon his lips, cheeks and nose. With a languid move he held out the cup to the servants and lay full back into the other. A servant came and instantly took the vessel from him. The group of servants bowed and quietly left the room. Knowing their prince’s passions they left quickly.

Heero trailed behind of group—a dark shadow, a silent threat—he turned giving the couple a blank look before closing the door. Though Quatre had his head turned away and his eyes closed he could sense underlying emotions roiling just under the surface from him.

Duo put his mouth against his ear and the second after the door closed. “Heero,” he hissed.

Quatre pushed him away and sat up. The moment he was certain they were alone he suffered his touch no more. “Your mind is occupied past reason with that one. First, you claim he is an excellent fighter, inhumanly strong. Now, he is a fool stupid enough to try and poison me with a strong smelling toxin.”

“He is no fool,” Duo said firmly. “He means to betray his cousin Wufei. He knows that Wufei would not suspect him if ye were poisoned. Especially by such a simple trick, let me kill him.”

“Already you have killed. We are guests. Our benefactor would not look kindly upon it and may even report it to my father.”

“This time it was poison the next time might not be so easily detectable.”

Quatre looked down at the table where the servant had placed the wine. If he died then his father would have control of his lands since he had no heirs. This was the last thing Wufei wanted to happen so he gave him Heero. Heero was to protect him. He was one of Wufei’s best fighters. It made no sense. Wufei Chang gave him two things, one was to protect the other to placate. Yet both seemed at odds with the other. He would wait soon he would be rid of them both.

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