Warning:contains sexual content
The candlelight flickered softly across the grand stone walls of Prince Vincent’s chamber, casting long shadows that danced as the evening wind whistled through the cracks of the castle. Despite the warmth of the hearth, Vincent felt cold-trapped, like the very flames were mocking him. His father, King Charbonneau, had sealed his fate. In just a week, he was to wed Princess Marianne Vacher of the neighboring kingdom. It was a union meant to secure an alliance, a political move that cared nothing for love or desire. Vincent had no choice in the matter, and that knowledge gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole.
But there was one thing-one person-that kept him sane.
Roderick.
The prince’s personal guard, with his broad shoulders, fierce green eyes, and thick auburn hair, was everything Vincent desired. Roderick was strong and capable, a knight who could easily command a battlefield, yet there was a gentleness in his touch when they were alone, a tenderness Vincent craved. It was in Roderick’s arms that Vincent found solace. But that solace was fleeting, stolen in dark corridors and quiet nights, always overshadowed by the looming threat of discovery.
Tonight, though, Vincent needed him more than ever.
He paced his chambers, dressed in the royal finery expected of a prince, but it all felt so suffocating. The gold embroidery on his tunic weighed down his every step, the polished boots felt too tight, and the crown sitting atop his head was like a shackle he couldn’t remove.
“Damn it all,” he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over as he ripped the crown from his head and tossed it onto the table.
The door to his chamber creaked open just enough for a figure to slip inside. Vincent’s breath hitched as he saw Roderick step into the room, his presence like a balm to Vincent’s frayed nerves. Clad in his armor, Roderick looked every bit the part of a warrior, but his eyes softened as they met Vincent’s.
“Your Highness,” Roderick greeted, his voice low, respectful-but there was something else there, something only Vincent could hear. Longing. Desire.
Vincent crossed the room in quick strides, his pulse quickening. He didn’t care for titles or protocol in these moments. Here, in the privacy of his chambers, Roderick wasn’t his guard-he was his lover.
“Rody,” Vincent whispered, reaching out and grasping the knight’s hand, the cold metal of his gauntlet pressing against Vincent’s skin. “I can’t bear this.”
Roderick’s expression flickered with a mix of sympathy and frustration. “You know there’s no way to stop it. The king has made his decision.”
“I don’t care about the king’s decision!” Vincent’s voice trembled with the weight of his emotion. “I don’t care about alliances or kingdoms. All I care about is-” He stopped short, his gaze locking with Roderick’s.
Roderick stepped closer, and Vincent’s breath caught. There was a storm in Roderick’s eyes, one of restraint and yearning. Slowly, the knight lifted a hand, brushing a stray lock of Vincent’s dark hair back behind his ear. “I know,” Roderick murmured. “But this is the way of things. You’ll marry her, and I’ll be-“
“Don’t.” Vincent’s voice broke, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to Rody’s chest, the cold steel of his armor a stark contrast to the heat rising between them. “Don’t say it. I can’t stand to think of it.”
Roderick let out a quiet sigh, his arms coming up to encircle Vincent, pulling him close. It was a rare display of affection, one that would be unthinkable for a prince and a guard in the light of day. But here, in the darkness of the chamber, it was everything Vincent needed.
“I love you,” Vincent whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking the words aloud would make them real, undeniable.
For a long moment, Roderick didn’t respond, his hands resting on Vincent’s back, his fingers tracing gentle patterns through the fabric of his tunic. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice rough, almost pained. “And I love you.”
Vincent’s heart leapt at the words, and he pulled back just enough to look into Roderick’s eyes. There was a fire there, one that matched the burning in his chest. Without another word, he surged forward, capturing Roderick’s lips in a desperate kiss.
It was fierce, raw, and unrestrained, a clash of need and desire that had been building for too long. Vincent’s hands fumbled with the clasps of Roderick’s armor, his fingers trembling as he sought to rid the knight of the cold metal that separated them. Roderick groaned softly into the kiss, his own hands moving to help, the armor falling away piece by piece until there was nothing left between them but their clothes and the heat of their bodies.
When Roderick’s hands found the ties of Vincent’s tunic, the prince felt a thrill of anticipation. The layers of his royal garb fell to the floor, and he was left standing before Roderick, bare and vulnerable. But there was no shame in it-only a fierce hunger that ignited every nerve in his body.
Roderick’s hands roamed Vincent’s skin, calloused fingers trailing over the smooth planes of his back, his sides, down to his hips. Vincent’s breath hitched as Roderick’s touch grew bolder, more insistent. He reached up, threading his fingers through Roderick’s hair, pulling him closer, their lips crashing together once more.
But it wasn’t enough.
Vincent broke the kiss, his chest heaving, and he met Roderick’s gaze with a look of raw need. “Take me,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Rody.”
For a moment, Roderick hesitated, his expression still clouded with desire. But then, with a low growl, he swept Vincent up in his arms and carried him to the bed, laying him down with a tenderness that belied the urgency of the moment.
Vincent’s heart raced as Roderick knelt over him, his eyes dark with lust and affection. He felt the weight of Roderick’s body press down on him, grounding him, and when their lips met again, it was slower this time-deeper. The world outside the room faded into oblivion, the looming wedding, the kingdom, the expectations-none of it mattered here. Only Roderick. Only them.
When Roderick finally entered him, Vincent’s body arched in response, a soft gasp escaping his lips. It wasn’t just the physical sensation-it was the connection, the intimacy, the love that flowed between them with every movement. Roderick was careful, slow, but Vincent could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely restrained passion simmering beneath the surface.
Vincent’s fingers dug into Roderick’s shoulders as the rhythm between them quickened, and he found himself lost in the overwhelming sensation of it all. It was raw, unfiltered, and so much more than anything he could ever feel with Marianne. Roderick was his, in a way no one else could be, and Vincent reveled in that knowledge.
As the heat built between them, the sounds of their breaths and gasps filled the chamber, a symphony of need and desire. Roderick’s hands gripped Vincent’s hips, pulling him closer with every thrust, and Vincent cried out, his body trembling under the intensity of it all.
It wasn’t long before they both reached their peak, the pleasure cresting in waves that left Vincent breathless and trembling. Roderick collapsed beside him, pulling Vincent into his arms, holding him close as they both came down from the high.
For a long while, they simply lay there, tangled together in the warmth of the bed, their breaths slowing as the night wore on. Vincent rested his head on Roderick’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, grounding himself in the moment, knowing it couldn’t last forever.
“I wish…” Vincent’s voice was barely a whisper, but Roderick heard him.
“I know,” Roderick replied, pressing a soft kiss to Vincent’s hair. “But we’ll have this, even if it’s only in secret.”
Vincent closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Roderick’s embrace wash over him. The weight of the world would come crashing down again in the morning, but for now-for tonight-he had Roderick. And that, for now, was enough.
—
The day of the wedding arrived far too quickly for Vincent’s liking.
His chest tightened as the sun filtered through the grand windows of his chambers, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The ornate room felt like a cage today, the walls seeming to close in around him. Outside, the hustle of preparations echoed through the corridors of the castle, servants rushing to ensure everything was perfect for the grand event.
But inside Vincent’s heart, nothing felt right.
Dressed in his finest attire-gold-trimmed royal blue tunic, velvet cloak, and a crown resting atop his dark hair-he barely recognized himself in the mirror. The image reflected back at him was not the man he wanted to be, but the prince his father expected: regal, dignified, ready to marry Princess Marianne Vacher.
A sharp knock interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Before Vincent could respond, the heavy door creaked open, and Roderick stepped in. Dressed in his formal armor, with a deep red sash denoting his status as Vincent’s personal guard, Roderick looked every bit the part of a knight sworn to protect his prince.
But his eyes-those green eyes that Vincent could never look away from-were soft, filled with the weight of everything they couldn’t say out loud.
“My prince,” Roderick said, his voice steady yet gentle. “It’s nearly time.”
Vincent turned toward him, his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted to speak, to tell Roderick how much he hated all of this-how the very thought of standing beside Marianne at the altar made him sick. But the words caught in his throat. All he could do was stare at Roderick, the one person who truly understood him.
Roderick stepped closer, his hand coming to rest lightly on Vincent’s arm. The touch sent a shiver down Vincent’s spine, a quiet comfort amidst the chaos of the day. “Vincent,” Roderick said softly, his voice dropping to a whisper, “you don’t have to do this.”
Vincent let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You know I don’t have a choice. My father-he’s made it clear. This marriage must happen, for the sake of the kingdom.”
Roderick’s grip on his arm tightened, his expression hardening. “What about you? What about what you want?”
“What I want doesn’t matter,” Vincent said, his voice strained. “I’m a prince, Rody. My life belongs to the crown.”
There was a long pause, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Roderick’s hand lingered on Vincent’s arm, grounding him, giving him something to hold onto in the storm of expectations swirling around him.
“You matter, Your wants and needs matter,” Roderick said quietly. “To me, they matter.”
Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. He looked up at Roderick, his pulse quickening. In that moment, all he wanted was to throw away his crown, his duty, everything-just to be with Roderick. But the weight of responsibility held him back.
Before Vincent could respond, there was another knock at the door, and this time it was one of the palace attendants. “My prince, the ceremony is about to begin. Your presence is required.”
Roderick quickly withdrew his hand, his expression slipping back into the guarded mask of a knight. Vincent nodded to the attendant, his heart sinking as the reality of the situation settled over him like a suffocating blanket.
“I’ll be there shortly,” Vincent said, his voice hollow.
The attendant bowed and left, the door closing behind him.
Roderick stood there, silent for a moment before finally speaking again. “I’ll be with you. Watching over you.” His words were quiet but firm, a promise that no matter what happened today, he would not abandon Vincent.
Vincent swallowed hard and gave a small nod. “Thank you, Rody. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
—
The grand hall was packed with nobles and dignitaries from across the realm. The air was thick with the scent of flowers, incense, and anticipation. Princess Marianne stood at the altar, resplendent in her white gown adorned with silver and gold, her hair woven with jewels that sparkled in the light.
Vincent approached, feeling like he was walking toward his execution. His father, King Charbonneau, stood at the head of the hall, his piercing gaze locked on his son. The king’s expression was unreadable, but Vincent knew what it meant-this marriage was a duty, a necessity for the kingdom’s future.
Beside the altar, Roderick stood among the other knights, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Their eyes met briefly, and Vincent felt a surge of emotion he struggled to suppress. This was wrong. All of it.
But it was too late now.
As the priest began the ceremony, Vincent’s mind wandered. He barely heard the words being spoken, the vows that were meant to bind him to Marianne. His thoughts were only on Roderick-the nights they had spent together, the stolen moments in hidden corners of the castle where they could be themselves.
The words “I do” slipped from his lips mechanically, as if they belonged to someone else.
Marianne smiled at him, her eyes full of hope and affection. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know the truth of his heart. To her, this was the start of a new life, a future filled with promise.
But to Vincent, it felt like the end of everything.
—
The night fell quickly after the ceremony, and the grand feast came to a close. The castle was quieter now, but Vincent’s nerves were on edge. He knew what was expected of him next-his father had made it painfully clear that the marriage needed to be consummated for the alliance to be sealed.
Vincent had never felt such dread.
Back in their chambers, Marianne stood by the window, the soft light of the moon casting a glow over her figure. She looked beautiful, her features delicate and kind, and yet… Vincent felt nothing.
She turned to him, her smile gentle. “Vincent,” she said softly, “I know this must be difficult for you. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.”
Vincent forced a smile, his stomach churning. “It’s… been a long day.”
Marianne took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “I hope, in time, we’ll grow closer. I’ll do everything I can to make this a happy union.”
Her sincerity only made the guilt claw deeper into Vincent’s chest. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, not fully. But he couldn’t tell her the truth either. Not about Roderick. Not about the part of himself that would always remain hidden.
“I think we should take things slowly,” Vincent said carefully. “There’s no need to rush anything tonight.”
Marianne hesitated, then nodded. “Of course. I understand.”
With that, she turned back to the window, giving him space. Vincent felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was short-lived. He couldn’t stay here. Not tonight.
As soon as he was certain Marianne had settled for the evening, Vincent quietly slipped out of their chambers. His heart raced as he made his way through the darkened halls, heading toward the hidden alcove where Rody waited for him.
The moment he reached the alcove, Roderick pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly. Vincent buried his face in Roderick’s chest, his breath shaky.
“I couldn’t do it,” Vincent whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t lay with her.”
“You don’t have to,” Roderick murmured, his hands gently caressing Vincent’s back. “Not while I’m here.”
Vincent looked up at Roderick, his heart aching with the weight of his love for the man before him. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep living this lie.”
Roderick’s expression softened, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to Vincent’s lips. “You’re not alone. We’ll find a way, Vincent. We’ll find a way to be together, even in this world that tries to keep us apart.”
And in that stolen moment, wrapped in Roderick’s arms, Vincent allowed himself to believe it.
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