Chapter Text
“Laios? Are you listening to me?”
Laios startled out of his daze, turning to Kabru. The late afternoon sunlight spilled onto his face, lighting up his golden eyes like a stained-glass window.
“Mmm?”
Kabru sighed, scooting his chair closer.
The two of them didn’t have any appointments or obligations until dinner, so they’d chosen to spend their few hours of free time relaxing in Laios’ favorite study. Well, “relaxing,” to Kabru meant meticulously organizing schedules, drawing up spreadsheets, and writing ahead to dignitaries and emissaries who had plans to visit Melini. “Relaxing,” to Laios, meant doodling monsters in his sketchbook.
“I said,” Kabru repeated, “have you thought at all about what Yaad mentioned yesterday?”
“Oh,” Laios put his pencil down, focusing on him, “uh…which part?”
Kabru fought not to clear his throat in irritation.
“The part about you taking a…” Kabru trailed off, not knowing how he wanted to phrase it, “…a wife?”
“Oh yeah, a queen.”
“Yes,” Kabru’s jaw felt tight, his eyes unblinking, “a queen.”
Laios put one arm onto the table, putting his other hand under his chin.
“I haven’t really thought about it much, to be honest.” His gaze trailed up to the ceiling, his expression bored.
Kabru didn’t particularly want to have this conversation, but ever since Yaad had brought it up the day before, the concept had been haunting him. He knew, realistically, that Laios would have to take a spouse eventually. It was expected of any king, unwitting or not. Did Laios have an opinion on the matter? Did he have a woman in mind? Would Kabru have to painstakingly vet and interview every eligible bachelorette worldwide to find the perfect person for him? The thought made him feel sick.
“Well, how do you feel—”
“Can’t I just marry Marcille?”
Kabru choked on his spit, coughing violently into his fist. Whatever he’d been planning to say died on his tongue.
“I’m—” he coughed again, “I’m sorry…what?”
“Marcille,” Laios repeated, like the single word wasn’t a knife to Kabru’s stomach. He punctuated the word with a nod, as if Kabru was meant to intrinsically understand what the fuck he meant with the gesture alone.
Laios’ confidence in Kabru’s ability to read his mind was flattering, but grossly unfounded. He needed more context.
“I’m sorry…” he said again, his voice like honey, coagulating, “…but you’re going to have to elaborate for me.”
“Well,” Laios picked up his pencil, gesturing with it, “she’s the obvious choice, isn’t she? Without her, we could have never defeated the dungeon, or rescued my sister.”
He used the pencil to count his fingers on his opposite hand.
“She’s my closest female friend, and I love her.”
Kabru felt his stomach cramp up. I love her.
“She also already lives with me, and we spend a lot of our time together. She spends just as much time helping me with the kingdom as you do, Kabru.”
Kabru held his breath. Laios wasn’t wrong. None of the things he was saying was incorrect. He shouldn’t have asked, he shouldn’t have asked—
“I also trust her, and have complete faith in her talents—”
“—You can’t marry Marcille, Laios—”
It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. If he had any less self-control, he would have clapped his hand over his own mouth in shock.
Laios stopped talking, attentive as ever, if not a little confused. He blinked those inquisitive eyes at Kabru, patiently waiting for an explanation.
“Wh—what I mean is—” he put down the paper he’d been holding, noticing a faint tear down the middle, “Do you…” he never struggled this hard with words. Words were his specialty, goddamnit.
“Do you feel…romantically…for Marcille?” he bit out, one hand clenching the side of his chair.
Laios tipped his head to one side, considering.
“I don’t know,” he said after a moment, “but I don’t think Yaad cares about that. He wants an arranged marriage, not a typical courting.”
Before Kabru could properly absorb that, Laios continued.
“If a marriage of convenience is what he’s asking of me, shouldn’t I choose the person who’s the most qualified for the position?”
Kabru wanted to object, but unfortunately, Laios’ logic made perfect sense. He was absolutely right, and Kabru needed to make it stop.
“But you’d…” he stumbled, “Isn’t she already with Falin?”
“Well, yeah,” Laios shrugged, “but what difference would that make, politically?”
Kabru’s throat felt dry.
“Royals and nobility marry for political gain all the time. It’s common for both parties to already have lovers both before and after they’re married,” Laios went on, oblivious to Kabru’s turmoil, “It depends on the couple, and how monogamous they want to be, of course. As long as a royal heir is produced, most choose to look the other way.”
The mention of children got Kabru’s thoughts back into gear.
“Then you can’t marry Marcille, Laios,” he said, his tongue too fast for his brain, “She’s half-elf, half-tall-man. This means she’s infertile, and won’t be able to bear you any children.”
The fact that Laios had already, readily accepted that he’d be comfortable having sex with Marcille for the sake of a political marriage made Kabru want to flip the table, but he held it in.
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Laios touched his chin in thought, “why didn’t I think of that?”
“So Marcille is off the table,” Kabru stated, a little too loudly. If he were thinking straight, he’d probably realize how manic it sounded.
“I guess she is,” he mused, falling deeper into his own thoughts.
Kabru’s breaths came short and fast. As he willed his heart rate to slow, Laios shrugged his shoulders with a noncommittal noise.
“Oh well,” he turned back to his sketchbook, completely unbothered.
“Do you…” Kabru began again, wanting nothing better than to end this conversation forever, “do you actually want to marry Marcille?”
“I don’t really want to marry anyone right now, honestly,” Laios responded to the sketchbook, getting back into the groove of drawing some of his favorite chimera creations.
Kabru licked his lips in apprehension. He felt his heartbeat thudding in his eardrums.
“Then…” he felt his breathing slow down, his panic ebb, “then why don’t we just tell Yaad that you aren’t considering marriage proposals for the time being?”
“Oh, we can do that?” Laios looked back up to him, a hopeful, bright smile on his lips.
“Of course,” Kabru replied, his sense of control slowly locking back into place inside his chest, “The subject may come up again later, but who knows? You make the rules now. We can cross that bridge when we get there.”
“Thanks, Kabru,” Laios smile was luminous, his eyes crinkling with affection, “you’re the best.”
Kabru swallowed heavily, and nodded.
“Of course, Laios,” the air was shallow in his lungs, “that’s what I’m here for.”