Gift Fic for akhikaru 3/4

[stormymood]

A piece of rainbow for akhikaru  Part 3



The transmission Sho had sent to Sheratan addressed all the Hamali in their planet. His mother had given her support to his claim since she’d started to recover, and Jun watched the transmission along with the rest of Sho’s army as Iseya had it projected in the courtyard.

Sho introduced himself as the new emperor along with the proclamation from his mother that given the recent events, the crown would be passed on to her heir as soon as he returned to the capital for his ascension. It became a joint transmission with his mother, who told the people the truth. The council had conspired against the crown and had intended to dethrone their family, but were subdued now thanks to Sho’s efforts at Lucida Ventris.

The people surrounding Jun began chanting, “Long live the Emperor!” as soon as Sho reappeared in the courtyard. Jun couldn’t make himself speak, instead keeping his eyes fixed on Sho as he held up his hand to silence the crowd.

“We’ve lost men and women today,” Sho said. “Some were our friends, some our enemies. Tonight, we honor them all regardless of which side they took. When I return to Sheratan, I will make my oath to the crown, to all the inhabitants of this planet. But I don’t need my title to give unto others what is their due, and so tonight, as we feast, we also toast in honor of those who stood with us in battle.”

The crowd raised their fisted hands in affirmation, and Sho signalled to the servants lingering outside the keep, preparing a banquet to be held in the courtyard.

Jun left to find Okada’s temporary infirmary, a rather large tent that were filled with complaining soldiers as soon as Jun entered.

“If you can still walk, you’re not that wounded. I’m short on hands, so go bother someone else,” Okada told him without looking up. He was applying the dermal regenerator to one Denebian. A portion of her shoulder had been singed off by a saber.

“I was thinking you might want help,” Jun said. He knew how to patch up minor injuries thanks to his childhood.

Okada lifted his head and regarded him. “Can you operate an osteogenic stimulator?”

“Yes,” Jun said. He’d had a few broken bones before.

Okada pointed to the corner. “Those guys there broke something. I don’t know what so ask them first. Then fix it, whatever it is. If you can’t, that’s when you call me.”

“Got it,” Jun said. He passed by a couple of biobeds until he reached the spot Okada had mentioned, and he found Nino there.

Jun frowned at him. “What did you break?”

“Thankfully not my neck,” Nino said. If anything, Jun was relieved that he was alive. Jun hadn’t seen him and feared the worst, but of course here he was. “My wrist feels funny.”

“Which one?” Jun asked, already reaching for the stimulator.

“My precious left one,” Nino said. At the look Jun gave him, he added, “Careless, I know. Don’t be angry; you’re not the one who broke something.”

“Keep your wrist still,” Jun said, and he carefully palpated for the bones. A few of them felt detached from the ligament, and judging from Nino’s answering wince, it was indeed broken. “I’ll start the repair. Once I’m done, go ask one of the nurses for a splint. You can only move it after a few hours.”

Nino leveled him with a stare. “How do you know so much about this?”

“I had an accident when I was a kid,” Jun said, using the story as a distraction as he began mending Nino’s wrist bones. “I was a very energetic child, and one time, while I was running outside and playing tag with my sister, I collided with a speeder.”

“That must’ve hurt,” Nino said.

“Broke some bones and got confined to the infirmary for a week or two,” Jun said. “I knew that wouldn’t be the last time given my nature, so in time, I learned how to patch myself up for minor injuries.” He pulled back. “How does your wrist feel?”

“Still funny,” Nino said. “But the numb kind of funny unlike earlier.”

“Off you go,” Jun said, moving on to the next soldier, a Hamali from Aiba’s sentry.

As expected, Nino didn’t leave. He simply created a space on the biobed to fit another man, and he proceeded to chat with Jun.

“Heard you killed the big bad man,” Nino said.

Jun caught the Hamali snickering at Nino’s comment. “That’s a curious way of referring to him,” he said.

“In terms of service, you did as well as any other man or woman here,” Nino said. “How do you think he’ll reward you?”

“As he would any other man,” Jun said. He didn’t want to think of Sho’s promise of setting him free.

“You should do what I told you to do,” Nino said. He got off the biobed and stalked away without hearing Jun’s retort.

The Hamali whose ankle Jun was tending to spoke after a moment. “He’ll make a great emperor. I think he’ll reward you handsomely.”

Jun wanted no gold or any form of compensation, but he couldn’t admit that.

“I think so too,” he said.

--

They paid their respects to their fallen comrades and enemies, and Sho ordered for the incineration to begin tomorrow instead of tonight. Those who had surrendered were kept in the dungeons of the keep but were provided with food and water.

The feast was held in the courtyard, at the inner ward of the fortress. There were long tables that had foreign-looking but enticing plates of food, and Jun had taken his place beside Nino, who had welcomed him like an old friend.

Their table had magic enthusiasts—or that was how Nino had referred to them—a combination of Denebians, Hamalis, and outlaws who were easily impressed by Nino’s quick hands. As Jun took his fill of tonight’s meal, he found himself being in awe of Nino as he pulled the correct card from the stack.

“Will you teach me that?” Jun asked despite knowing the answer.

“So you’ll know where to look and you can call me a cheat? I think not,” Nino said, earning a few laughs from their table. He performed another trick, one that had the stern-looking Denebian soldier gasping in surprise.

Nino looked self-satisfied and pleased, and Jun was glad to witness such a thing. It might be the first proof of true joy he’d seen in Nino since they’d arrived here.

The night was quick to turn late, but the Denebians livened up the atmosphere by performing one of their war dances in honor of Sho’s victory. Keiko was asked to participate, and she recruited all female members of Sho’s personal guard to do the dance with her.

Sho was seated on a table that stood atop a dais, a serene smile on his face as he watched the dance. Jun’s eyes gravitated towards him, at the thin line that crossed his cheek, a mark that he’d earned today. He’d had Okada tend to it, but instead of asking for a full dermal regeneration, he’d allowed a scar to be present.

Sho, Jun realized, had always carried his scars. He hid them but hadn’t erased them.

“Teach me a Saiphan dance,” Kiko said, and Jun’s attention snapped back to her pretty face. She was already pulling him to the center, and he tried to resist.

“This is a Hamali celebration,” he told her. “Why would I dance the culture of my people tonight of all nights?”

“Because you fought alongside us and if the new emperor is to be believed, Hamal will now strive to be a more accepting planet while still being mindful of tradition,” Kiko said with a smile. “Dance with me.”

Their table had nothing but encouragement for him, and he sighed before acquiescing, allowing Kiko to lead him on. Her footsteps were light, almost like she’d sprint any moment, and Jun held her close as he began teaching her the most basic dance in the Saiphan court.

It was a simple waltz that had a few jumps from time to time, and despite the music being foreign, Jun just followed the beat. He’d been raised to have an ear for music regardless of its origins, and soon, Kiko was laughing in his arms as they spun together, past other dancers who also took the floor.

By the time they were done, the courtyard was brimming with life despite the lateness of the hour. People were chatting with one another, some had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Toasts were made in honor of the fallen, and stories were shared in memory of them. Some were already drunk with victory, and still the liquor kept coming. Iseya, it appeared, had stocks of Hamali rum that had gone unused until tonight.

When Jun turned to look at the high table, Sho was nowhere to be found.

Ohno was there, sharing drinks with a few of his men. Aiba was the same, except he was also doing impersonations of some noble that sent most of his men laughing. Keiko was now dancing with Daigo, who had a temporary cast for an arm since he’d sustained quite an injury.

Nino was now performing his tricks on Kiko, who clapped in glee each time Nino fished out the right card. Around Jun, everyone had smiles on their faces, and Jun made his way past the soldiers to head inside the keep.

Iseya was by the entrance, sharing a drink with General Ishihara who nodded in greeting when she saw Jun.

“Have you seen the emperor?” Jun asked Iseya.

“Wasn’t he outside? I didn’t see him come in,” Iseya said. “Let him be. He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“Thank you,” was all Jun said, excusing himself with a small bow.

Jun did a quick sweep around the courtyard and wasn’t able to spot the familiar brown hair. He walked past tables, past men who clapped him in the back since they now treated Jun as one of them, past the offers of some Denebian women.

He was needed elsewhere was the excuse he gave them.

Past the inner ward was the outer complex, an extension of the courtyard that served as the parking space for all their ships. Repairs would begin tomorrow, and the ships that would be considered too damaged to be fixed would be dismantled, their parts to be scavenged for the other functional ships.

This part of the fortress wasn’t properly illuminated, but Jun could see the towering shadows of different ships. He was searching for one ship in particular, and he knew he wouldn’t mistake her silhouette despite being surrounded by many others.

Otonoha was moved from where Jun had landed her, but her hatch was opened, the ramp lowered. It was dark inside but Jun climbed up anyway, bypassing the cargo hold and the bridge to get to the only quarters in the ship.

Sho was seated on the floor of his quarters, his back inclined against the bed, neck resting on the edge of it. The room was dim, lights set to fifteen percent when Jun checked. Sho’s eyes were shut, and for a moment, Jun thought he was asleep.

“Took you long enough,” Sho said without opening his eyes.

“That’s the second time you said those words to me,” Jun told him.

“I will stop once you learn not to keep me waiting,” Sho said. He got to his feet and moved to sit on the bed. “You helped me win a great victory today.”

The badge pinned on Jun’s chest felt inexplicably heavy. He glanced at the chronometer on Sho’s nightstand, aware of the hours. He didn’t have many of them left.

“Back in the outskirts, I gave you my word regarding the compensation you can expect to receive for your efforts,” Sho said.

There was a spike of anger in Jun. “Why do you talk to me like that?”

“Like what?” Sho asked.

“Like—” Like the past few weeks hadn’t happened, he wanted to say. Like nothing had changed between us. “Like I’m one of your soldiers.”

“But you are one of them,” Sho said. “Half the toasts to victory were made in your name. You’re not drunk. You should be able to remember something like that.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about what I did,” Jun said. “I know what I did. I know why I did it.”

“When I return to Sheratan, it will all be official. That’s the day after tomorrow. I will have the power of an emperor, and the oath you swore to me is held fulfilled as soon as I wear the crown.”

Jun knew all of this. He didn’t want to think about it.

“When I leave for Sheratan, consider yourself a free man,” Sho said. “You may take any ship of your choosing, and should you want it, you’re welcome to reside in any of the colonies that are part of Hamal’s territory. If you need to find employment, tell me at once and you will have the job you want.”

“My freedom is mine,” Jun said. “When you leave, it’s up to me what I want to do with it, yes?”

Sho looked at him. “Yes.”

“Then,” Jun said, “I want you to give my freedom to Ninomiya.”

That earned him Sho’s surprise. He could tell from the subtle lift of Sho’s eyebrows. “Ninomiya?”

“Yes,” Jun said. “Give Ninomiya a ship and send him home. To Alnitak. He has family there, people he hasn’t seen for a long time. I promised him I’ll help him find his way back there, and now I’m asking you to help me make that happen.”

“You’d give away your chance to flee from all of this to someone like Ninomiya? Why?”

“Because I know how it feels like to miss family,” Jun said. Not a single day went by that he hadn’t thought of his father, the Rina he’d known and had grown up with. He’d loved them dearly.

Sho was silent for a few moments, and Jun remained where he was, standing by the doorway as he waited for Sho’s response.

“Does Ninomiya know of this? Of this bargain you’re making in his name?” Sho asked.

“He will soon,” Jun said. “I don’t think he’ll refuse. And I think a part of him expects me to do something like this.”

“Ninomiya has shown excellent service for months now,” Sho said.

“You told me once you’re fair. You’re not kind, but you’re fair,” Jun said.

“I intend to reward Ninomiya with whatever he wants. If he wants this for himself, he shall have it. Same for you.”

Jun blinked. “What?”

“I promised you freedom, Matsumoto. You said it’s up to you what you want to do with it. I’m giving it to you once I go.”

Jun crossed the distance between them and stood before Sho, who tilted his neck to meet his eyes.

“Is that what you want?” Jun asked.

“It’s not about what I want.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Jun said. He didn’t know where the next words had come from. “Ask me to stay and I will.”

“You can’t,” Sho said softly, a sad smile on his face.

The truth felt suffocating. “I would if I could,” Jun amended.

“Yes. You would. What I don’t know is why you’d choose to. I didn’t treat you kindly.”

Right now, Jun felt that he belonged here. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He reached out, making contact for the first time. His thumb brushed Sho’s cheek, at the edge of his new scar. It didn’t make him any less attractive, instead drew more attention. Jun wanted to do more than just press his fingertip against it. “The soldier who did this to you.”

“He’s dead,” Sho told him. He didn’t twitch nor shrug away from Jun’s touch, but he stayed very still. “Just like Inamine.”

“I killed him,” Jun said. “Before he could even think of killing you.”

Sho’s eyes drifted shut, his eyelashes fanning his cheeks. He remained motionless, his breathing shallow. “Tell me your name.”

Jun’s hand froze. He couldn’t deny who he was. “What?” he asked weakly.

“Your name. Give me your name,” Sho said with eyes closed.

“Jun.” It was all he could say.

Sho finally looked at him. “What do you want?”

He didn’t withdraw his hand. “Tell me to stay,” he asked selfishly.

Sho appeared conflicted. His bottom lip trembled as he stuck to silence.

There were sacrifices kings-to-be had to make.

For a moment, Jun wanted to give it all up. To live in the lie, to be here whenever Sho needed him. Just for now, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted what Crown Prince Jun would never have.

“Stay by my side,” Sho muttered quietly, almost imperceptibly. “Not forever. At least…”

“At least?”

“Until tonight,” Sho finished.

The only time he’d seen Sho this vulnerable had been when he’d learned about what had happened to his mother.

His touch shifted, fingers dragging down from Sho’s cheek to the proud curve of his jaw and finally coiling under his chin. He tipped Sho’s face towards him and bent down, closing his eyes.

It was light—the softest kiss Jun had with anyone. Their lips merely touched, and it felt tentative, almost shy and hesitant. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the company of another. It had been in Saiph, months ago. But this wasn’t a pleasure worker or any duke or duchess, or a lady or a gentleman of the court.

This was Sho. Fierce, brave, infuriating, stubborn Sho.

A hand came up Jun’s chest, gripping his badge tight. A tug and it came off, and Jun heard a thunk as it hit the floor beside their feet. Sho’s touch returned, fisting at the part of Jun’s tunic where the badge had been, and Jun felt Sho kiss back, igniting something he hadn’t felt in too long.

Jun’s hand slid down to cup Sho’s neck, using it as leverage as their kiss gradually turned heated. Jun felt heady, his senses only aware of Sho—his scent, his taste, the feel of his mouth, the rush of his hot breath.

When they broke apart, Jun couldn’t keep away for long. He leaned in once more, and this time Sho seemed ready for him, hands coming up to bury themselves in his hair. Jun had longer, thicker hair now, the tips almost covering his ears. It was reminder of how long he’d been in here.

Sho stood without separating from him, and like this, with his height close to Jun’s, Jun allowed himself to touch. He ran his fingers over the entirety of Sho’s new scar, familiarizing himself with the raised skin. He reached Sho’s neck and rested his thumbs over Sho’s pulse, feeling it flicker wildly.

It was Sho who pulled away this time, his breath hurried, mouth glistening and swollen. Jun held Sho’s face in his hands, afraid Sho would walk away and disappear.

“Tell me you want this,” he said.

“Do I look like I don’t want it?” Sho asked.

“Tell me,” he said right over Sho’s mouth.

“I want it,” Sho whispered between them. “I wanted it since we rode that speeder and saw the sea, the cliffs, the old mining station. I wanted it since I allowed you to be that close.”

Jun kissed him hard this time, tonguing at the crevice until it parted for him. He held Sho like he didn’t want to let him go, like they had all the time despite the hours ticking.

There would never be another night like this.

Jun guided Sho back towards the bed, pulling back to briefly to give Sho some room to breathe. Sho began unlacing his boots and Jun did the same, not bothering with undoing all the knots, instead loosening them just enough that he could slip them off.

Sho was already settled on the bed when Jun climbed on it, his knees on either sides of Sho’s body. Like this, Jun had Sho where he wanted him to be, like he suddenly acquired everything he could ever want.

He bent down to kiss Sho again, relishing the moment. If he could have this only for tonight, then he’d make the most of it. Sho tasted like rum as Jun took his little noises of pleasure for himself. He kissed Sho until he felt his lungs burn, and he began scattering kisses from Sho’s jaw down to his neck.

He found a small dot, a pinpoint change in pigmentation that he’d never noticed before and ran his tongue over it, which earned him a quiet gasp. He felt Sho respond under him as he left no part of Sho’s neck untouched by his mouth.

“Let me,” Jun said against Sho’s skin. The rest went unsaid, but he knew Sho would understand.

Let me have this for tonight.

Fingers brushed against his stomach as Sho took hold of the hem of his tunic, pushing the material up.

“Let me see you,” Sho said.

There was nothing Jun wouldn’t give to him.

He maneuvered his arms accordingly, allowing Sho to slip the tunic off him. Sho discarded it to their side, to the floor, and Jun withdrew a little to let him see.

Sho’s fingers skimmed over his ribs, fleeting touches that nearly made Jun squirm. Sho’s palms lay flat on his chest, and Jun wondered if Sho could feel his thundering heartbeat.

Jun maneuvered himself so he could slip his hands inside Sho’s tunic, and he heard Sho’s breath hitch.

“Nothing you don’t want,” he said. He fisted at the hem of the cloth and waited, not pushing the tunic up.

Sho shut his eyes. “There are scars,” he murmured. Jun thought he may be blushing.

Jun nodded and let go, but Sho stopped him, grabbing his wrists.

“I—” Sho started, his grip on Jun loosening, “I require a moment.”

“All right,” Jun said. It occurred to him that perhaps, Sho had had partners in the past who’d made him feel embarrassed.

“They’re ugly,” Sho said with an edge to his voice. “But I kept them to remind myself.”

“I’m not going to force you,” Jun told him honestly. “If you don’t want to—”

“No, I do trust you,” Sho said. Then he nodded, eyes still shut. “I think it’s all right now.”

Jun slowly pushed the tunic up, revealing skin. The gash he’d seen on Sho’s flank wasn’t the greatest of his scars. He had one near his breastbone, one that hadn’t healed quite well. Unlike the silver scar Sho had on his side, the one close to his sternum was a wine-red patch of hypertrophic skin. Another sat right over Sho’s chest, a mark of an old, poorly done suture.

By the time Jun had the tunic removed, Sho lay very still. Jun cupped his chin and tilted Sho’s face towards him.

“Look at me,” he coaxed softly.

It took more than a beat before Sho did.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” he said, and ducked. He pressed his lips over the scar on Sho’s chest, raining kisses over the length of it.

He was rewarded with a gasp and he did it again, until slowly, he felt Sho relaxing under him.

“I was grazed by an arrow there. I patched it up myself,” Sho said in between breaths. “That’s why it left a mark like that. I didn’t want the royal physician to know.”

Jun lifted his head, and Sho was looking right at him.

“A part of me didn’t believe it,” Sho said. “That people I treated as family would hurt me.”

Jun had shared those feelings once. He continued trailing kisses downward, until he’d kissed all the scars visible to him. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of any of these. They did nothing but tell me that you’re a survivor, and I’m glad for that.” He lingered on Sho’s navel, pulling back in confusion when he felt a break on the skin there.

“This isn’t a scar,” he noted.

“No, it isn’t. I had piercings once. One on my ear and one there.”

Jun hadn’t been expecting that. He ran his fingers over it. “What did it look like?”

“I had a stud first then I got more daring as I got older,” Sho said. “You seem fixated with it.”

“I would have wanted to see you wearing it,” Jun said. “And would have loved to do this.” He bent down and began nipping, delighting in the small hiss that escaped from Sho. He moved lower, tongue following the trail of dark hair.

“Come here,” Sho said.

Jun crept back up, welcoming Sho’s kiss with enthusiasm, lowering his body so he could rub himself against Sho. The friction made the both of them moan, and Jun did it again, kissing Sho silent, claiming that vicious, smart mouth that had said both kind and cruel things.

Sho’s hands moved to his back, claiming territory from his shoulders down to his spine. Sho broke the kiss to say, “Lie on your back,” and Jun moved off him, making himself comfortable on Sho’s bed.

“Do you have plans?” Jun asked now that Sho was straddling him.

“Many,” Sho said. “Which one would you like to hear about?”

“The ones involving me,” Jun said.

“I want to see you,” Sho said.

The lie tasted bitter on Jun’s tongue. “You are seeing me.”

If Sho had noticed anything, there was no indication of it. Instead Sho’s hand crept lower, ticklish fingers brushing against Jun’s abdomen and slipping past his trousers. The sudden contact made Jun arch against Sho’s palm, his head throwing back.

“I meant that I want to see you fully roused,” Sho said, smiling.

Jun sat up and grabbed Sho’s nape, kissing him. His hips lifted on their own accord, trying to feel more of Sho’s touch than what was possible.

Sho pulled away and pushed him back, and Jun braced himself with his palms flat on the bed. Sho maneuvered his body to make room, hands catching on to the waistband of Jun’s trousers. He lowered them as far as they could go along with Jun’s undergarments, and Jun kicked them off the rest of the way.

Jun caught Sho licking his lips, leaving them glistening and tempting. He moved to kiss Sho again, but Sho placed a hand flat on his chest to stop him.

“As addicting your mouth is, there’s something I want to do now that I’ve seen you like this,” Sho said. He made room for himself by nudging Jun’s legs apart, settling himself comfortably until Jun felt his breath against his cock, and the first lick had Jun exhaling.

Sho did it again, swirling his tongue over the head, and Jun didn’t tear his eyes away from him. Even if he had to close his eyes as Sho grew bolder, he ascertained he opened them again. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this.

When Sho wrapped his lips around him and sucked, Jun let out a noise.

Sho broke off, and Jun said with a touch of embarrassment, “It’s been a while.”

“I can imagine,” Sho said. He was smiling. “Months?”

“Yes,” Jun admitted. “I’ve never been with anyone since I arrived here.”

Sho grabbed his cock and squeezed, his other hand slipping behind Jun’s neck, pulling him closer. “That pleases me. I don’t want any other Hamali to touch you like this. Or anyone for that matter.”

“I wouldn’t let anybody else,” Jun said over Sho’s mouth. “I don’t want them.”

Sho pushed him back, strong enough that his back hit the sheets. The surprise didn’t last long, instead replaced by pleasure as Sho’s mouth returned to his cock. It felt too hot and too good, and Jun buried his hand in Sho’s hair just to give himself something to hold on to, the other fisting tight on the sheets.

Whatever Sho was doing with his tongue sent Jun groaning, eyes rolling shut. Despite the rumors about the number of times Sho had taken someone into his bed, he was experienced. Sho knew when to stop and tease Jun with flicks of his tongue over the slit, when to take Jun to the back of his throat to have him gasping. Sho kept him on edge, giving him a few strokes whenever he felt close to coming.

“You weren’t lying about it being a while,” Sho remarked, amusement rich in his voice.

“Do you want me to beg?” Jun asked.

“We both know you’d never,” Sho said. “Though I find it interesting to see you like this. You’re always in control, always so composed.”

A squeeze made Jun bite back a groan. “That’s not true,” he managed to say. “I wasn’t composed when I flew this ship with Nino. A part of me was afraid.”

“I never saw you afraid,” Sho said. “Not even on our way to Denebia—the planet that didn’t trust men. What were you terrified of?”

“That I wouldn’t be able to return here,” Jun admitted, ending in a gasp. “To you.”

He felt Sho move, and he opened his eyes just in time to meet Sho’s mouth halfway. Sho kissed him hard, wanting and almost desperate.

“Tonight is ours,” Sho whispered between them. “Tonight, you’re mine as I’m yours.”

If Jun could, he’d choose to remain in this moment, for this night to never end.

Jun allowed himself to just feel. He’d give anything if Sho asked.

Sho’s hot mouth wrapped around him again, and this time Sho didn’t hold back. He didn’t stop even as Jun tugged on his hair in warning.

His climax had his thighs shaking, euphoria flooding his body and traveling in waves. He opened his eyes when he felt a hand cup his face, a thumb running over his mouth.

“I—” Jun tried, but his voice sounded like it’d fail him any moment.

Sho smiled, thumb now brushing against his bottom lip. “We have all night.”

To Jun, that wasn’t enough. That thought was what willed him to move, nudging Sho to have Sho move off him. Sho took the hint, kneeling on his side and watching him.

“I want to do something,” Jun said.

“Something,” Sho repeated.

“Yes. I want you on your elbows and knees.”

Sho blinked.

“Please,” Jun said. “Let me. I promise it’ll feel good.”

Sho shuffled to assume the position, saying, “You’ve never broken an oath to me before.”

“No,” Jun affirmed, “and I don’t plan to start now.”

When Sho appeared to have settled, Jun had his body touch Sho’s, until his lips could rest on Sho’s nape. He breathed Sho in, hoping he’d remember even after tonight. He kissed the ridge formed by Sho’s spine, down, down, until he reached Sho’s ass.

He flattened his palms on the cheeks to spread them, flicking his tongue against Sho’s hole. He heard a sharp intake of breath and did it again. He felt a thud as Sho’s forehead hit the mattress.

Jun ran his tongue from Sho’s hole past his perineum, one hand sliding down so he could guide Sho’s cock into his mouth. If Sho made a sound it was muffled against the sheets. Jun didn’t mind; the way Sho was pushing back towards his mouth was indication enough—he was giving Sho pleasure.

He moved his tongue up, tasting Sho once more, hands squeezing his ass. The noises Sho was making were getting to him, and he felt himself stirring the longer he licked around. He heard a tumble to his side, and he lifted his head to see Sho’s hand blindly reaching out towards the nightstand. Sho appeared to have found what he was looking for, a tube that he tossed in Jun’s direction without looking back.

Jun rested a hand on the cleft of Sho’s ass as he sat up. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” Sho asked back, irritated. “I can touch myself if you don’t hurry up.”

Jun couldn’t help smiling, briefly moving back up so he could kiss Sho’s shoulder. “All right.”

He grabbed the tube and applied some of its contents onto his fingers, and he proceeded to kneel between Sho’s legs. He pressed his finger against Sho’s hole, circling it before he made an intrusion, keeping it slow.

Jun shuffled forward so Sho would also feel his tongue as he began fingering Sho open. The hand that reached back buried in his hair and pushed his face forward, and when Jun slipped his tongue inside Sho, he finally heard a groan.

It took some time, but Sho eventually loosened up for two fingers. He made a sound Jun wouldn’t forget when Jun started to crook his fingers, and Jun’s cock twitched between his legs. When Jun had three, he felt Sho’s hand fall away from where he’d had a fist in Jun’s hair.

“Roll over,” Jun coaxed.

Sho looked at him over his shoulder, and Jun hoped that the lust he could see on Sho’s face was mirrored in his own.

“I want to see your face,” Jun said. He wasn’t making love for the fun of it. Jun wanted them to be as intimate as possible, for everything to be unhurried.

He sat back on his heels as Sho lay on his back, legs spreading so Jun could settle between them.

“What do you want?” Jun asked.

Sho gave him a somewhat disapproving look. “Do I have to spell it out?”

“Tell me,” Jun said anyway. “I need to hear it.”

An exhale, then: “I want you in me.”

Fire roiled in Jun’s gut, and he began searching the nightstand. Sho made no move to help him, and after seconds of coming up with nothing, Jun heard him chuckle.

“It’s in the other table,” Sho said, finally deciding to be helpful.

“Why do you keep it separate from the lube?” Jun asked, annoyed.

“Because I rarely find myself in need of it,” Sho said. At the expression on Jun’s face, he added, “It’s not just a reputation. I’m very picky with whom I choose to share a bed with.”

“Should I consider this an honor then?” Jun asked. He found what he needed and tore it open, and he slipped it on himself before he grabbed the tube. “You’re not a conquest. I’m not doing this to prove something.”

“I know,” Sho said. “You’re too old for that mindset, anyway.”

That made Jun smile, and he slicked himself before he lined up, one arm going under Sho’s knee. He met Sho’s eyes and Sho nodded, and Jun pushed in.

The heat that enveloped him had him clutching tightly at Sho’s leg. He didn’t move, instead aligned his body with Sho’s, and when it resulted to him sliding further in, Sho finally made a sound that got caught in his throat.

Jun braced himself on his forearms, and he had Sho’s face caged between them as he swooped down to find Sho’s mouth. He kissed Sho and began moving in slow pushes that spurred him into wanting more.

Sho’s hands wormed around his back, holding him close. They slowly rocked together, and soon, Sho began meeting his thrusts halfway.

He hid his face in the junction formed by Sho’s neck and shoulder and picked up pace. He felt as if he could suffocate in his growing desire for Sho despite already having him like this. He took his next breath against Sho’s throat, and a particularly hard thrust had Sho’s legs bracketing his thighs.

It was easier to move now, and he had the entire length of his cock inside before he pulled out and slid in once more.

“Sho,” he whispered unbidden, breathlessly.

“Yes,” he heard Sho hiss in response, nails scraping against his skin. “Yes, yes.”

Sho was arching against him and taking it even as the mattress creaked, legs tightening around his thighs. He bared his neck for Jun to taste, and Jun licked the bead of sweat that had traveled down to Sho’s collarbone.

The air was too hot, like the fire inside Jun had grown into an inferno that enveloped them both. With the way Sho was clutching at him, he knew Sho was also feeling the sweltering need. They were one.

“Say it,” Jun begged. “Say my name.”

A tingle traveled up his spine and steadily built up, culminating into something raw that Jun hadn’t felt with anyone else. Prince Jun could’ve had anyone, but not Sho. He’d never wanted anything as much as this, and this was something he could only have once. When Sho leaves for Sheratan, he had to go too.

He reached to their side to find Sho’s hand, raising it above them and entwining their fingers. He squeezed and whispered, “Please.”

A sharp thrust had Sho grunting, and Jun finally heard his name.

“Again,” Jun said, teeth catching on to Sho’s ear and tugging. “Again, again.”

“Jun,” Sho breathed. “Jun, yes.”

When Sho cried out, he pushed himself up with his grip on Sho’s hand acting as leverage. With his other hand, he reached down to find Sho’s cock, stroking it.

Sho moaned and Jun kissed him, though it was mostly teeth given his lust and desperation. Sho bit on Jun’s bottom lip, sending him gasping, hips speeding up in response.

“Not before I do,” Sho husked between them, and Jun’s eyes snapped open. “Not yet.”

“With me,” Jun said against Sho’s jaw.

Jun knew he was close, but he staved off the nearing orgasm by stilling his hips. He remained buried in Sho, lower half unmoving but his trunk shuddering, and Sho kissed his nose.

“I need to—” Jun tried, and he hissed when Sho clenched around him. “Sho.”

Sho scattered soft kisses all over hiss face, silencing Jun's moan when he rocked against Jun’s body.

“Together,” Sho said. “Like always.”

Jun moved slowly, but he quickly found the rhythm he’d established earlier. He nearly tipped over the edge, hastily reaching down to fist at Sho’s cock, and Sho let out a choked groan. Sho’s hand squeezed his, and Jun felt Sho twitch in his palm.

His hips stuttered, and when Sho’s release hit his skin, he let out a groan as he gave in, his mind turning to a sea of white. He could feel nothing but bliss, could hear nothing but the buzz in his ears. When he came to, he had Sho panting in his arms, and he let go of Sho’s hand to tip Sho’s face towards his.

The kiss they shared was lighter and lethargic, merely lips brushing and returning. It was the kind of kiss that Jun preferred, and he found it difficult to break apart.

He slowly withdrew, and Sho lowered his legs with another grunt. For a moment, he contented himself with staring at Sho—the healthy tinge of pink that colored his cheeks, neck, and chest, the soft pout of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath.

No one in Lucida Ventris had seen Sho like this except for him, and he felt a thrum of pleasure at the thought.

He got off the bed before he’d be unable to resist the urge to touch, disposing of the condom as he made his way to refresher. He found himself in a similar state as Sho, his flush more pronounced given his complexion. He cleaned up as best as he could and retrieved a towel, running it under the sonics before he returned.

Sho moved to sit up, but Jun said, “Don’t.” At the look Sho gave him, he added, “Let me.”

He crept back to the bed and began wiping Sho’s stomach. He moved to between Sho’s legs after, trying to be thorough, until he heard Sho say, “That’s enough.”

Jun stopped and Sho said, “Come here.”

Jun threw the towel to the side, not caring where it landed. He lay on the spot beside Sho, and Sho turned to his side to face him, fingers coming up to brush away his fringe.

The chronometer ticked behind Jun, but he didn’t dare turn.

“When I was young,” Sho started, and Jun didn’t look anywhere else but him, “I was told your kind will kill mine without hesitation.” Sho’s fingers were idly tracing patterns over Jun’s chest, his touch light but affectionate. “That you’ve taken from us and will continue to do so. Everyone in Hamal has been taught that, from nobility to the common folk. As children, we all believed you would hurt us in one way or another.”

“Have I hurt you?” Jun asked.

Sho smiled. “No. You were a generous, attentive lover. If you’ve hurt me, you would’ve known.”

Jun caught Sho’s hand in his and pressed a kiss to his each of his fingers. “As a boy, I was taught that Hamali were unforgiving and vindictive. That you hate us and will continue to hate us, that no motions for peace will be entertained.”

His father had been the one who had said the latter. They are unreasonable, he’d told Jun. They’re completely hung up on traditions and the only way they’d entertain peace with us is if we make them ours.

Jun had been a boy then, no older than ten. He hadn’t known his father had been intending to conquer Hamal—he’d thought such a thing could happen without bloodshed.

“I intend to keep my word,” Sho said. “Once I leave for the capital, you are free. If Ninomiya wishes the same, tell him to come to me at once.”

The desire to stay could choke Jun with its intensity. “I’d stay if you asked.”

“And that’s why I will never,” Sho said. “You’re the only Saiphan in this planet and the only one I allowed to be this close. If you stay, they will use you against me.” Sho slipped out of his grip, fingers reappearing to trace the outline of his lips. “I can’t let that happen. I’m responsible for a planet now.”

Jun held Sho’s hand and pressed the back of it against his cheek. “But you’re not responsible for me.”

Sho gave him a sad smile. “It’s still night. I promised you tonight.”

They moved forward at the same time, and Jun pulled Sho close as he kissed him, his tongue slipping past Sho’s lips. He’d have whatever Sho would give him. If all of Sho was his tonight, then he’d ascertain he’d never forget how it felt.

He guided Sho so he’d have Sho’s body on top of his, and he allowed Sho to claim his mouth, not wishing for him to stop. He held Sho close, arms locked around his waist, and they only broke apart when Jun felt his lungs burning.

“Usually,” Sho said, his breathing shallow, “I don’t let anyone remain in my bed this long.”

“Are you telling me to go?” Jun asked, the tip of his thumb grazing Sho’s eyebrow.

“That’s the last thing I want you to do,” Sho said, giving in to a brief kiss. “Though I’d like to bathe.”

Jun grinned. “Is that an invitation? I won’t say no.”

“Then come with me,” Sho said, dislodging Jun’s arms around his waist. He stalked naked towards the bathroom, and Jun allowed himself a moment to ogle. The line of Sho’s spine, the impressive musculature of his back, the curve of his ass…

“Now,” Sho said impatiently. “Stare all you want later.”

Jun allowed himself a small laugh before he followed, and he proceeded to learn more about Sho’s body under the sonics.

--

The morning came and Jun found himself waking before Sho did. Sho had his head pillowed on Jun’s arm, and Jun watched him sleep for a moment. Like this, he didn’t seem to be an emperor fighting for his planet. He appeared to be just a man who had enjoyed himself the night before.

Sho stirred when Jun skimmed his fingers over his arm, eyes slowly fluttering open, and something inside Jun ached when they locked eyes and Sho smiled.

This unguarded version of Sho was just for him to see. And he’d likely never witness it again.

“Good morning,” Jun greeted.

“Good morning,” Sho said in return. “What time is it?”

Jun glanced at the chronometer and said, “A little late for your usual.”

“Well, that’s comforting. I haven’t slept that long in a while.” Sho sat up and stretched, his joints popping. His back had curves Jun wanted to touch, but he didn’t know if it was still welcome. The night was over.

Sho left the bed to head for the refresher, and Jun remained where he was, hand eventually straying to the spot that Sho had occupied, fingers spreading over the still warm sheets. They’d slept after lingering too long under the sonic showers. In there, Jun had discovered that Sho liked the feeling of being pressed against something, for Jun had trapped Sho between himself and the wall and Sho had voiced no complaint, instead had welcomed him like an old lover.

Jun got off the bed to prevent himself from remembering too much. Sho had slept soundly in his arms, and before Jun had succumbed to sleep, he’d allowed himself to foolishly entertain the thought that no one could harm Sho if he remained where he was.

He freshened up as soon as Sho granted him entry, and when he returned to the room, he found Sho slipping his clothes back on. He was in no rush, but the more skin he covered, the more Jun couldn’t bear to watch him.

Without a word, Jun picked up his clothes from the floor and started dressing up, his back turned to Sho. He’d had mornings after that had been full of indulgence, and he’d have given anything to have something like that with Sho.

But today was no longer theirs.

As he slipped his trousers back on, he started remembering. The parts of his chest that Sho had kissed, had caressed. The noises Sho had made while Jun had them both close to the edge.

He had his tunic fisted in his hands and raised when he heard Sho say, “Wait.”

He lowered the tunic and looked at Sho in question, and found him staring.

“I—” Sho said, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks, “I haven’t seen this much last night. The last time was in Denebia, and I was exhausted then.”

Jun faced him properly, and he watched as Sho’s eyes raked over his body. “Exhausted enough to be unable to fully appreciate?” he asked.

Sho scoffed. “Please. You know what you have. And you know how I feel about it.”

Jun strode towards him, fingers tentatively cupping Sho’s chin. Sho didn’t move away, and he took it as permission. It wasn’t much of a skin contact, but Sho was already leaning towards him, eyes expectant.

Jun waited. He didn’t want to be presumptive.

Then: “Kiss me,” Sho said.

Jun had to tilt his neck a little to capture Sho’s mouth, and he delighted in the sigh Sho made as a response. They kissed slowly, as if they could afford it. His hands slipped down to Sho’s hips just as Sho’s arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer.

They pulled away the same time when they heard a surprised gasp from the doorway, and Jun could feel his cheeks burning when he saw Yoko hurriedly bowing his head, eyes fixed on his feet.

There was no denying what he’d seen. Jun, after all, was still half naked, and behind them, the bed was unmade.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” Yoko said with a slight stammer. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else at present. “I was sent here to begin repairs, but I didn’t think the ship was occupied.”

“No matter,” Sho said, stepping back and fixing his tunic. Jun already missed him. “Will this ship be ready for my ascension?”

“Kazama promises it will be,” Yoko said, head still bowed. “It’s why he sent me to work on the fuel cells first.”

“The fuel cells,” Sho said. “That should be on the other side of the ship, no?”

Jun gave Sho a disapproving look, but he seemed to be delighted by how much he could embarrass one of his men who’d walked in on them. Sho waved him off.

“My apologies,” Yoko said once more. “I heard voices and thought to inspect it since Kazama had this ship off-limits to anyone who isn’t assigned to work on its repairs.”

Jun imagined that Yoko had come prepared to yell at any unauthorized person, and had he been alone, he’d be the recipient of a reprimand. The state Yoko had found them in changed things.

“Off-limits,” Sho repeated. Jun slipped his tunic over his head and began lacing his boots. “Very well. We’ll be leaving shortly. Tell Kazama to resume work in an hour.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Yoko left with a bow so low he was nearly bent in half, and Jun waited until they heard his footsteps fading.

“An hour?” he asked.

“Yes,” Sho said, frowning at the sight of his boots. “I see you’ve chosen to have us lose precious minutes while I just bought us an hour.”

Jun didn’t wait for an order this time, reaching for the back of Sho’s neck to continue what they’d been doing before the rather rude interruption. “We should close the door,” he said belatedly, over Sho’s plump mouth.

“And rob me of my fun? No,” Sho said. “Let them see. So they know they cannot touch you.”

Jun pushed Sho back to the bed, and Sho landed on it with a soft grunt. Jun climbed over him, kissing him once more. “You promised me a night,” he said, despite Sho’s hands already slipping under his tunic, nails scraping across his flesh and making him hiss.

“Then I also promise you this hour,” Sho said with a smile.

--

They returned to the keep together, and judging from the looks Jun had gotten on the way there, he knew Yoko had already told everyone.

There was food prepared in the banquet hall of the keep, and Jun found Iseya waiting for them. Sho took his seat and the servants rushed in, placing plates and goblets and utensils with practiced ease.

Iseya waited until the three of them were alone. “You didn’t use your room,” he said to Sho.

“The last time I slept in a castle, I was almost murdered the following afternoon,” Sho said. “You’d forgive me for taking precautions.”

“Precautions,” Iseya said, amused. “The entire fortress knows.”

“Yes, I imagine it made quite the gossip,” Sho said, not paying attention to Jun looking the other way. “What news from the capital?”

“The details of your ascension have been finalized. They intend to do it with triple securities now that Saiph has declared war,” Iseya said. “They want you to return as soon as you can, and preferably with all the men here.”

“We don’t have enough ships,” Sho said. “Unless my mother will send the flagship to me, I can’t bring my army there at once. My plan is to send half of them today, and the other half will travel with me tomorrow.”

Iseya considered it. “I’ll inform the Empress’ herald. There’s a private transmission waiting for you. From the Empress.”

“Urgent?” Sho asked.

“It’s not labeled as such,” Iseya said. “I can retrieve your pad for you if you like.”

“No,” Sho said. “I’ll have one of the attendants get it when I’m done eating. Thank you.”

“I’ll go send that transmission,” Iseya said. “Unless you still need me for anything?”

Sho shook his head. “Dismissed.”

Iseya left, and they ate in silence. Jun couldn’t convince Sho to talk to him; he was no longer supposed to know these things if he was leaving.

“Are you done?” Sho asked after a moment.

“Yes,” Jun said, wiping the corners of his mouth with a cloth.

“Fetch Ninomiya,” Sho said, “and return at once.”

Jun left the hall and strode out to the courtyard, ignoring the leers he was receiving. Some clapped him on the back when he passed too close to them, others gave him a nod and a meaningful smile.

He found Nino with Aiba, the two of them hunched over Ohno’s speeder. He cleared his throat to make his presence known, and when they turned, they looked at each other first before giving Jun a smile.

“Jun-kun,” Nino said, his voice airy. His smile had a lot of meanings, Jun thought. “Where’s the princeling?”

“He asked me to get you,” said Jun.

Nino’s eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t swindle any of his men. I won their money fair and square in last night’s game of chess.”

“I’m amazed you know what fair and square means,” Aiba said. “You pulled a move I wasn’t expecting.”

Jun didn’t understand what they had meant, but then again, he hadn’t stayed long enough nor took part extensively in the celebrations last night. “He didn’t tell me anything. He just sent me.”

“Not my fault you weren’t watching your queen,” Nino said to Aiba. He rubbed his hands on his trousers and stood, giving Jun a nod. “All right. Lead the way.”

Jun did, but not before he saw Nino shooting Aiba a salute. They walked side-by-side, and they were inside the keep when Nino opened his mouth.

“So,” was all Nino said.

“So,” Jun parroted back.

“You know whose reaction was my favorite after that guy Yokoyama told Kazama who told Aiba, and eventually everyone?” Nino asked with a grin.

Jun wondered if he should indulge him. “Whose?”

“Oh-chan,” Nino said.

Jun frowned. “Who?”

“The captain.”

“Oh. You call him that?” He paused. “Of course you do.”

“He was picking his nose when he heard. With the other hand of course, I can’t imagine him inserting the metal finger into his nose,” Nino said. “He stopped in the middle of his nose-picking and asked Aiba-shi, ‘Are they naked?’”

Jun sighed and shook his head, walking faster. He heard Nino laugh as Nino jogged a bit and caught up with him.

“So then Aiba asked Kazama who asked Yokoyama, and the guy said you were,” Nino told him.

“I wasn’t,” Jun said before he could help it. “I had my trousers on.”

Nino cackled, the kind that had his mouth wide open and face scrunched. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t surprised. I don’t think Oh-chan was, either. Only Aiba and Kazama and perhaps Ikuta had hilarious reactions a while ago.”

Jun didn’t reply anymore since they reached the banquet hall, and he found the table cleared and Sho holding a pad. Sho didn’t look up when they approached, and only addressed Nino when he spoke.

“Ninomiya,” Sho said, facing him.

“Princeling,” Nino greeted pleasantly. He attempted to courtesy, but he exaggerated his movements too much that Jun knew it was all intentional.

Sho didn’t appear to mind. “You’ve proven to be an irreplaceable member of my army these past few weeks. Many of the ships returned thanks to the modifications you’ve done to them.”

Nino shrugged. “Are you going to pay me? That’s the only compensation I want, if that’s what I’m here for. Otherwise, I’ll just get going because your captain wants me to do something about the thrusters of his speeder.”

Sho hummed. “Perhaps you can consider this as payment then,” he said. “You have family in Alnitak, yes?”

Jun caught Nino’s expression faltering for a moment, before he slipped back into the default cockiness. He didn’t miss the glance Nino threw his way. “You can’t hold them ransom for my crimes. They don’t even know what I’m doing with my life.”

“I’m not going to hold them ransom,” Sho said. “Whatever you did, how many people you’ve wronged, that’s all on you. As a reward for your service, if you want, you can have a ship and see them.”

Nino’s eyes went wide. “You’re not serious.”

“You will have the necessary permits,” Sho said. “Iseya-kun will provide them once I ask. You will masquerade as a trader since Alnitak is still under Saiph’s protection. I will provide all credentials and documents you need. How you convince the officials patrolling the planet will be entirely up to your skills, of course.”

Nino looked at Jun, and Jun simply nodded.

“You’re letting me go?” Nino asked when he faced Sho once more.

“Essentially, yes,” Sho said. “If you want it. It’s not absolute freedom given your inclinations before you arrived here, but it’s your only chance of going home. The offers expires once you leave this hall.”

“I didn’t kill that councilman,” Nino said.

“No,” Sho agreed. “But you brought back more than half of my men and their ships, including my own.” He didn’t need to say it, but Jun knew what Sho meant to say.

You brought him back to me.

The look on Nino’s face told Jun Nino had understood it as well.

“Any ship I want?” Nino asked.

Sho nodded. “Except mine and perhaps Satoshi-kun’s, but if you can convince him, why not?”

“I want the fastest,” Nino said. He seemed a bit overwhelmed, face contorting in a myriad of expressions. “I—”

“Don’t thank me,” Sho said.

“I know,” Nino told him. To Jun: “You kept your word. I can’t believe it. But you did it.”

Jun couldn’t help smiling. He’d done something for someone as he’d promised. It was a good feeling to have. “Say hello to your nieces and nephews for me.”

“You may leave after I do,” Sho said. “I return to Sheratan tomorrow, and by then, you are free.” He typed something in his pad and said, “Find Iseya-kun. He would have received a message just now, informing him of what to do.”

Nino nodded and moved to leave, but he halted in his steps when he stood by the door.

“I know this means nothing since I’m not really a Hamali,” Nino said to Sho, who looked at him curiously, “but I hope your reign may be blessed and last for years. Truly.”

“Should you wish to return to Hamal, you may,” Sho said. “And not in a handler ship this time.”

That made Nino smile, and he did a formal bow for the first and the last time. “Long live the Emperor.”

He departed then, and Jun waited until Nino was completely out of sight.

“Do you have the same plans for me?” he asked quietly.

Sho didn’t look at him. “Actually, I may have something a little different for you.” He tinkered with his pad and a hologram of a satellite floated between them. “Have you heard of Mesartim?”

Jun squared his jaw before he nodded. “Yes.” It was the moon that had the mining station his father had claimed, the one that Sho had told him the truth about.

“I have a favor to ask,” Sho said. “I would send Satoshi-kun or Aiba-chan, but my mother has insisted in her transmission that she wanted them by my side. You can refuse, of course. By tomorrow you are free, and this is the only time you will hear about this from me.”

“No,” Jun said. “What do you need?” He could do this. One last favor from Sho.

“A satellite survey,” Sho said. “I have a contact there in the mining station.” He flicked his finger over the hologram and it zoomed to the spot he mentioned, indicated by a blinking red dot. “I’d love to meet him personally, but his timing is rather off. I need you to listen to what he has to say and send a transmission of it to Iseya-kun. Then you can go.”

Sho’s civility was something Jun had expected, but that didn’t lessen the ache. Still, he barrelled through it. He had to go. He’d do this one last thing, go back to Saiph, find his old allies. He still had a name. Names could be powerful if you possess the status.

“All right,” he said.

“Then you’re dismissed,” Sho said. “If I have any more orders, I’ll send for you. In the meantime, head to the courtyard and find a ship you can use.”

Sho turned away, focusing on his pad once more, and Jun took it as his cue to leave. Each step felt heavier than usual, and Jun resisted the pull of looking back. Perhaps they’d still have time, later, before Sho had to go.

He went to the courtyard to find Kazama, who reddened when Jun talked to him about a ship. Jun ignored the knowing smiles Kazama’s men had on their faces and waited for Kazama to recollect himself.

“Nino asked for the fastest,” Kazama said after a moment. “Do you have any specifications for your ship?”

Jun shrugged. “As long as it’s not as dilapidated as the one I used when I came here, it should be fine.”

“We parked the functional ships in the outer ward,” Kazama said, pointing past the gates. “Take your pick and inform me.”

Jun nodded and headed off, but he stopped over Okada’s tent first. The man’s eyebrows lifted in welcome, then his face broke to a grin.

“I heard he let you and Ninomiya go,” Okada said.

“Word travels very fast in this camp,” Jun said.

“He keeps us informed,” Okada said. “Whoever needs to know, that is. I keep a list of people in here, just to have an idea about my potential patients. Well? What do you need?” Okada was leaning against one of the biobeds where a soldier lay, his legs wrapped in casts. He appeared to be asleep.

“Nothing,” Jun said. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Okada seemed surprised, frowning as a reaction. “That was my job, you know.”

“Regardless,” Jun said, “you still helped me that time, back when I was too stubborn to acknowledge my limits. Thank you.”

Okada snorted in amusement. “You’re still stubborn, Matsumoto. Safe travels, and may the stars shine upon you.”

“And you,” Jun said, inclining his head before taking his leave.

--

Jun received a briefing of his last mission from Sho once he had a ship. It was sent to the ship’s log and Jun reviewed it while overseeing the ship refuel. The afternoon passed quickly, and by nighttime, Sho held a final feast. Lucida Ventris would be empty come morning; even the fortress commandant Iseya was required to be present in Sheratan for Sho’s ascension.

Jun remained by the sidelines, watching the Hamali celebrate their new emperor. The Denebian queen, Ryoko, had asked her general to congratulate Sho on her behalf by giving him the good news: Denebia now had a new queen—Sho had fulfilled his end of the bargain.

A clink against his cup surprised him, and Jun looked up just as Nino sat beside him. They watched the celebrations together in one corner, though Jun’s eyes gravitated towards Sho every now and then, who sat on a chair on top of the dais. His chin rested on his knuckles, and there was a soft smile on his face.

“Heard you said goodbye to everyone,” Nino said.

“Not everyone,” Jun said.

In his periphery, he saw Nino grin. “Well, it’s not too late. He leaves tomorrow and so do we. But there’s still a couple of hours left.”

“We don’t have time,” Jun said, looking up. Just beyond was Saiph—Rina, perhaps making war preparations. As they celebrated here, she was getting ready to invade them.

Nino thankfully didn’t push the topic, instead taking a huge gulp out of his drink. “I’m going to miss this,” he said, raising his cup. “This is nothing compared to Alnitak wine, but it’s good enough.”

Jun smiled. Nino would never admit that he’d miss his time in Hamal, but this was his way of saying it. “I’d miss it, too,” he found himself saying quietly. He never thought he would. When he’d gotten here, he’d wanted to leave immediately.

He clasped Nino’s shoulder as he stood. “Alnitak’s a long way from here. I hope there’ll be peace when you make it home,” he said.

Nino held his hand only for a moment. “Be seeing you,” Nino said.

Jun didn’t know when that would happen, but he liked to believe it would.

“Be seeing you,” he said back, and he walked away.

--

He decided to use the time he had left to clean the ship he’d be using. Jun’s own room back in Saiph would’ve been messy had the attendants not taken care of it in his stead, but any ships he’d used were kept in pristine condition. He never liked flying in a ship that was filthy. It didn’t befit a future king.

He sifted through the garbage in the cargo hold, disposing of them in the incinerator once he’d had them segregated. A prince would never do such a thing, but he hadn’t been a prince in a while.

After, he washed his hands and grabbed a broom and started to sweep.

“This was Toma’s,” a voice said behind him. He didn’t have to look to check who it was.

“Was it?” Jun asked. He didn’t know whose ship he’d gotten, but that would explain the eyebrow quirk he’d received from Ikuta when he’d said goodbye.

Sho hummed, and he seemed amused. Perhaps the night’s celebrations had made his mood lighter. “I can’t believe he parted with it, is all.”

“And you?” Jun asked, setting aside the broom and turning around to face Sho. He looked like an emperor with his fine clothes and easygoing smile. His people would adore him.

“You mean did I come here to part with you?” Sho asked.

Jun schooled his features to reveal nothing and didn’t say a word.

“Yes,” Sho said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Jun stepped forward, and when he was about a pace away from Sho, he unpinned the badge from his chest and held it in his palm. He offered it to Sho, who looked at it with a soft smile on his face.

“I wish—” Jun started, but he couldn’t finish it. He found himself wishing for many things. He wished for peace, for the war to never happen, for his plan to work despite its uncertainty. He wished their ancestors hadn’t allowed the disdain to build up through the years to the point it’d become part of their history.

Sho regarded him and said, “As emperor, I can grant a few wishes.”

That won Jun’s smile, and he said, “But not the ones I have in mind.”

“I know,” Sho said. “Tell me anyway.”

“I wish our planets aren’t at war,” Jun said. “I wish I didn’t grow up hating you and your people. I wish—” he paused, letting out a tiny laugh, “—we met under different circumstances.”

“Different,” Sho repeated. “How different?”

“I could’ve been a suitor,” he said before he could ponder on it.

Sho grinned, hand closing over his on top of the badge. “I turned down all of my suitors.”

“I know,” Jun said, remembering. “I heard about it from Ikuta. Months ago.”

“I would have done the same to you,” Sho said. “Even if, hypothetically, our planets weren’t so keen to fight each other. Had you been a suitor, I wouldn’t be…”

He trailed off, and Jun said for him, “Attracted to me?”

Crown Prince Jun had never courted anyone before. But then again, he’d never found anyone worth crossing the galaxy for. No one had captured his attention that long.

Sho met his eyes. “Drawn to you,” he finished.

Jun felt Sho let go, but he pulled him back, grasping his hand tight. “I intend to keep my promise. About preventing this, all of this. I’ll do whatever I can. And should there be peace, I—”

Sho’s fingers rested on his mouth, stopping whatever he had to say. “I meant what I said. When this is all over, should you find your way back here—to me—, you’ll have a place to stay.” Sho gave him a sad smile. “I know I’ll never see you again. But if there’s any chance it’ll be possible one day, maybe you can visit me in the Hamali court.”

“To share your table as a guest?” Jun asked once Sho’s hand fell away.

“To court me,” Sho said. He took the badge from Jun and withdrew completely. “Maybe.”

Jun ached at the loss of contact, but there was nothing he could do. Except, perhaps…

“I have a wish I think you can grant,” he said.

Sho stared at him, waiting.

“Let’s take a speeder,” he said.

Sho’s surprise only lasted for a few seconds. “They’ll notice we’re gone.”

“They already noticed you’re gone and they all know where you are,” Jun said. The entire fortress knows, Iseya had told them. “You’re not saying no.”

“No, I’m not,” Sho said. “Shall we take Ohno’s? I heard Yoko refueled it after Ninomiya had it fixed.”

Jun smiled, already heading for the doors. “I’ll see you in the hatch in five minutes, then.”

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Sho said, and Jun turned to go.

--

They reached a hill just as the clouds above had parted to reveal a blue moon. It was a rare occurrence, Sho explained, and the Hamalis believed it meant a good omen.

“Your reign will last for years,” Jun said.

“For Denebia, yes, it will,” Sho said.

They were lying on the grass and watching the sky, and Jun tried to commit to memory all the unfamiliar constellations. Had the stars burned so brightly before? He couldn’t remember ever taking the time to observe them like this.

“She won’t know you’re her father,” Jun said.

“All the better, I suppose,” Sho said. “That way, Denebia can’t claim the Hamali throne.” Sho shifted beside him and pointed ahead. “Do you see that? The one that looks like a pitcher?” He traced the air with his finger.

“When I was a boy, the nurse that took care of me told me that a sky goddess held a pitcher full of stars,” Sho said. “When there are meteor showers, it means that the pitcher overflowed and some of its contents spilled.”

“Why does she have a pitcher?” Jun asked curiously.

“It’s a myth,” Sho said, and Jun could tell he was rolling his eyes. “They’re not supposed to explain everything—just certain things that look beautiful.”

Jun laughed. “All right. And?”

“I was perhaps nine or ten when she told me that story,” Sho said. “But at the time, I already knew that stars die. So I asked her, ‘what happens to the pitcher when the stars die?’ And she told me, ‘in a few years, it’ll be filled once more. What once was will return in one way or another.’” Sho exhaled. “I never forgot that. I suppose that explains why a part of me still believes.”

“Believes in what?” Jun asked, his eyes fixed on the constellation Sho had pointed out to him.

“That you’ll find you way back,” Sho muttered quietly. Jun faced him, and Sho wasn’t looking at him. “Isn’t that stupid? I know what I said and I know it’s true: I’ll never see you again. But…”

He smiled sadly and didn’t continue.

Jun turned to his side and reached out to cup Sho’s cheek, tilting it to face him. He scooted closer, until he was breathing in Sho’s space. “Tell me I can still do this.”

“You don’t need permission for this,” Sho said, leaning to his touch.

“Yes I do,” Jun said. “I need to know that you want it.”

“I do want it,” Sho told him, eyes on his. “I think I’ll want it even after you’re gone. I think I’ll want it more when tomorrow comes.” What he said next came out as a whisper, his eyelids fluttering shut. “I think I’ll always.”

Jun bridged the gap, sighing against Sho’s mouth. Their time would never be enough. They only had now, and it was a stolen moment. Jun knew he’d taken Sho away from something, perhaps a duty befitting the emperor he was about to become. But they had mere hours left, and Jun wanted to make the most of it.

He’d never get another chance.

Sho returned the kiss with the same passion, a hand fisting in Jun’s tunic to have him closer. Jun placed his hand on top of Sho’s and lay back, tugging Sho on top of him, giving him everything. One of Sho’s hands slipped under the back of his neck, acting as support, and Jun locked his fingers around Sho’s back to keep him in place.

It was dangerous, what they were doing. They were a bit far from the fortress and atop a hill, but anyone could venture out in search for Sho and find him like this, but Jun could tell neither of them cared. For him, he wanted them all to know.

He scattered kisses all over Sho’s face once they’d parted, hoping that Sho would at least remember this. He knew he would. He’d never forget this night and the night before it, as well as everything Sho had told him.

“It’s the same for me,” he whispered between them, pressing his forehead against Sho’s. “I think no matter where I go, there’ll always be a part of me that would want to return here.”

To you, he didn’t say, but he didn’t need to.

“Tomorrow,” Sho said, lips brushing against his, “when you leave, do it before me. I need to see you go. Once you leave, that’s the only way I can be ready.”

Jun felt a constriction somewhere in his chest. “If I could, I’d—”

“No,” Sho said over him, kissing him silent. “Don’t say it. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“You don’t even know what I was about to say,” Jun muttered, giving in to another kiss. It tasted bittersweet.

“I think I do,” Sho said. “I think we both do.”

Jun moved to plant one last kiss on Sho’s forehead, and Sho slotted his face in the junction formed by his neck and shoulder. Jun held him like that, like they had all the time they could ever need.

Sho pinched a portion of his tunic and began twisting the material between his fingers. For a while neither of them said anything, content to bask in the warmth they were generating together.

“How long before they start looking for you?” Jun asked quietly, his fingers tangled in Sho’s hair.

“They know I’m with you,” Sho said, breath tickling Jun’s neck. “You’re still my bodyguard tonight even if you already returned the badge to me. They won’t look for me.”

“In my planet, bodyguards don’t do this,” Jun said with a smile.

“That’s how it is in my planet too,” Sho told him. “Why, did you think I did this with Nagase-kun? Don’t be absurd.”

“No,” Jun said, laughing. It felt good to laugh. It eased a bit of whatever heavy feeling he had inside him. “I never thought that way, don’t worry.”

“You were never good at following orders anyway. You’re only a bodyguard by title.”

“I’m still part of your subjects. I don’t suppose subjects get to do this with their emperors?”

“You’re not a Hamali,” Sho said. “I’m not your emperor.”

Jun smiled. “Fair enough.”

“But since I am emperor, I can have whatever I want, yes?” Sho asked, and Jun could feel his grin against his neck.

“Then tonight,” Jun offered sincerely, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

Sho was silent for a few beats, and then: “Stay with me for the next hour.”

“All right.” Jun wouldn’t—couldn’t—deny him this.

“And the next,” Sho said. “At least until dawn. Just like this.”

Jun kissed his hair and said, “As you wish.”

They lay there together as the stars twinkled overhead.

--

The sky was close to purple by the time they returned to the fortress. Once inside the gates and off the speeder, Sho gave him a cool look and said, “I’ve informed my contact in Mesartim that I’m sending someone I trust in my stead. I expect your transmission to be in Iseya-kun’s hands as soon as possible.”

“You’ll have it,” Jun said.

They shared one look and Sho said, “Thank you for your service. I wish you a safe travel and may the stars shine upon you.”

“And you,” Jun muttered quietly, but he was certain Sho had heard it. He moved the speeder to where Ohno would likely see it and didn’t look back, instead climbing up the ship he’d claimed for himself and closing the hatch behind him.

Outside, he could tell the fortress was waking. He was in the bridge and strapped to the chair by the time he hailed the communications tower.

“You’re clear for take off,” they said back to him after a few moments, and Jun released the parking brake and switched on the thrusters.

He detached himself from what he was feeling and focused on making a smooth exit once the gates were opened. He knew that somewhere down there, Sho was watching.

“Goodbye,” Jun whispered to no one as soon as he was out of the gates.

He looked straight ahead, towards the skies that would soon become dotted with stars. He had nowhere else to look but forward, where his fate lay just beyond.

He opened the ship’s log and found the coordinates for the meeting site at Mesartim and input it in the navigation console. He didn’t have Nino’s skills so his ETA was at more than a day in hyperspace, but it was better than nothing. He made the jump and left the ship on autopilot, going back to the navigation system once more.

In his lonesome, his thoughts retreated back to what had happened hours before. They hadn’t slept, afraid they’d both wake up in the morning. Instead he’d asked Sho to tell him stories about the constellations, in the same way Sho had talked to him about the territory that last time they’d had indulged themselves.

Jun reached out and touched the part of the navigation map that stood for Hamal. It hadn’t been his home, but it was home to friends, people he’d fought a war with and won. Despite the beliefs he’d had since he was a child, he knew he’d fight with every fiber of his being just to prevent the war that was about to happen.

Wait for me, he thought selfishly, eyes fixed on where his fingers touched the screen. I’ll find a way.

--

Mesartim felt like an incinerator instead of a satellite, its vents making Jun sweat in his jacket. It was a moon that had coal mines that ran for centuries under Hamal’s jurisdiction until Saiph had claimed it for herself. Jun had landed on a secluded spot as indicated by Sho’s unnamed contact, and he stood a couple of feet away from his ship, waiting.

He’d brought a phaser just in case, keeping it hidden inside his jacket. Its grip poked his rib but he’d grown used to it. An incinerator burned brightly in the distance, and everywhere Jun looked was orange because of the flames.

It had to be nearly half an hour by the time he’d seen figures past the fumes. There was certainly more than one man, but the smoke made it impossible to count how many there were. Jun drew his phaser and set it to stun, and he moved to press himself against a huge rock as he waited.

The footsteps turned louder as boots buried in volcanic sand. Mesartim was a burning satellite possessing an active volcano at its center. In the Old World, it would have been called a literal hell.

“We see your ship, Hamali. State your business,” one man called out in the common tongue.

“I’m not a Hamali,” Jun declared. “But I was sent by their emperor. He told me he’d promised to meet someone here.”

“And where is he?” the voice asked.

“Getting his crown,” Jun said. “That’s why I’m here. What are you here for?”

The vent close to him blewoffa gush of hot steam, and Jun almost choked at the sticky feeling it left. He understood now why Mesartim had been a safe meeting spot despite it being Saiphan territory. No one could stay out here for long. The atmosphere was thin on the surface, and Jun estimated he could only last for another hour at most.

His hour was beginning to run out.

“He told me there would be something for me here, that I didn’t have to land on the moon but merely survey it,” the man said. “Then his words changed when I arrived here, promising to meet me in the flesh as soon as he dealt with something urgent. And now you tell me he broke his oath.”

“The urgency hasn’t left him,” Jun said. He needed to conclude his business here, fast. “What do you have for him?”

“That depends. What does he have for me? Aside from a messenger who wouldn’t show his face?”

“How do I know you won’t shoot me once I come out?” Jun asked.

“Come out, then you’ll know,” the voice told him.

Jun let out a breath and steeled himself, gripping his phaser tight. If this was a trap, he was outnumbered. But Sho wouldn’t do such a thing. He wouldn’t have sent Jun somewhere dangerous. If threat was imminent, they’d be here together.

He waited for the vent close to them to blow another gush of scorching steam before he stepped out, and he saw four men watching as the geyser shot a stream of air into the sky. He stood there, waiting for the vent to release all the pressure it had contained, and when it did, his breathing stopped.

He lowered his phaser unconsciously, hand trembling around its grip. The smoke cleared little by little, and Jun’s knees felt weak.

“No,” the man said in shock, his eyes wide. The other three men with him had their jaws hanging open. “You’re dead.”

“I’m not,” Jun said shakily. “I thought you’re all dead.”

The man took steps forward, staggering as his weapon dropped to the sand. “All this time I—we believed you were. We searched for you as far as the outer rim.” The man fell on his knees, and Jun saw him clenching his hands into fists. “Is it really you? Jun?”

“Shun,” Jun said, and Shun lowered his head, forehead nearly touching the ground. The other men hastily did the same, knees hitting the sand.

“Your Highness,” Shun said, and Jun could hear the emotion in his voice. “The Prince’s Guard is at your service.”

“Captain,” Jun said, and it was sheer willpower that had him standing still. “Rise.”

Shun did, and Jun noticed he still wore his badge. The same one he’d pinned there himself when he’d named Shun successor to the former captain. They’d trained together under Shun’s father, and when Shun had proven himself to be a better warrior than Jun could possibly be, Jun had known he’d be the right choice.

Jun hadn’t seen him that day when he’d been imprisoned. What he’d seen of his men were those who’d defected to Rina, but Shun hadn’t been there. Jun had thought he’d died.

“How many men do you have?” Jun asked, his voice still not as stable as he’d intended.

“Whatever’s left of the Prince’s Guard—thirty. They took us prisoners after we’ve heard what happened to you, beat us, tortured us. We were set for an execution, but I escaped,” Shun said. “Then I set the rest of the men free and we ran. We’ve been on the run ever since, but we tried looking for you even if we knew it was unlikely that we’d find you.”

“How did you escape?” Jun asked.

Shun smiled, and Jun was filled with nostalgia. This was the first person he’d seen from home in months. “How did we enter the treasury despite all the security measures they enabled to keep us out?”

Jun found himself laughing over a fond memory. They had been children then, curious little boys who’d gotten reprimanded when caught. “Old habits,” he said.

Shun looked past him, his eyes on the Hamali ship that was parked behind Jun. He seemed to have pieced things together, and when he met Jun’s eyes once more, he said in disbelief, “How did you survive?”

“We have many things to talk about,” Jun said. “But we need to get out of here. Let’s find one of the usual spots and meet there.”

Shun smiled knowingly. They’d been to trips around the galaxy more than once. As Captain of the Prince’s Guard, Shun had been his companion more than once. Shun had seen him drunk, had seen him crawling his way to his bed since he’d been old enough to partake in liquor.

“The belt is close,” Shun said. “We wouldn’t be seen there; Saiphan ships avoid the belt because of solar storms. There should be an asteroid large enough to hide thirty ships.”

“Thirty-one,” Jun said. He had plans to return the ship to Ikuta whenever he could.

“Your Highness, I can’t let you travel alone,” Shun said\.

“A lot of things have changed since we last saw each other, Captain,” Jun said. “But if you still treat me as your Prince, then you’ll do as your Prince commands.”

“Of course,” Shun said. “However, I must insist on your safety. We’ve only just gotten you back.”

“I will not disappear,” Jun said. “Not again. Let’s meet in the belt. That should only be five minutes of hyperspace jump. Then we’ll talk.”

Shun put a fist over his heart, right where the badge was pinned. Jun saw the rest do the same—he remembered their faces, their names, their stories. He’d appointed them himself.

“It will be done as the Prince commands,” Shun said, and it was the first familiar thing Jun had heard in such a long time.

--

The asteroid they found was an old settlement for a terraforming colony. They’d built atmosphere towers and hadn’t taken the time to dismantle them as they’d left, and Jun stood inside the abandoned facilities as Shun and his men worked on repairing the heaters. They’d spent the night here and talk about many things—past, present, and future.

Shun had ordered his men to set up camp for the night while he and Jun proceeded inside Ikuta’s ship. It was the only private place for the talk they were about to have, and Jun would rather not have everyone hear of everything. So many things had happened.

They replicated Hamali rum and Shun frowned when he caught a whiff of the drink.

“You get used to it,” Jun told him, partaking already.

“This is strong,” Shun said, face wincing after he’d gulped the contents of his glass down.

“Which means you’re bound to like it,” Jun said. They shared a laugh.

“What happened to you Jun? Rina announced to the entire planet that you’ve gone missing, and all of us who knew the truth and got away thought that meant she had you killed,” Shun said.

“The same way she murdered our father,” Jun said.

Shun shut his eyes. “There was no way to prevent that. No one saw it coming.”

“Did she at least give him a decent funeral?” Jun asked.

“We didn’t stay that long; we weren’t safe. But I heard she had him interred in the family tomb.” Shun clasped his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry. He was a good king. The people mourned his loss—we all did. He treated me like a son. May the stars watch over his soul.”

Jun exhaled slowly. He’d never had the chance to talk about his father’s death to anyone before, and he could feel the corners of his eyes burn. Shun didn’t comment on it, instead taking the initiative to refill their glasses.

“I never got to mourn him,” Jun admitted, a tear escaping from him. “It all happened so fast, and this is the first time I got to process that he’s really gone.” He wiped at his cheek. “And Rina’s mother?”

“She is queen dowager,” Shun said.

From his tone, Jun picked up he was hiding something. “Tell me,” he said.

“Jun.”

“That’s an order.”

“She wears your mother’s crown,” Shun said. He looked pained as he uttered the words. “And Rina wears your father’s. Together, they rule the planet.”

Jun couldn’t suppress the rage that washed over him. “And together, they conspired to murder my father and remove me from the throne. I’ll never forgive them. Their biggest mistake was not killing me when they should have.”

“They sent you to Hamal to die,” Shun said. “Anyone can see that. But you didn’t. How is that possible? Their Emperor Apparent would have you executed on sight because of who you are.”

The sting Jun felt in his ribcage made him finish half of his drink. “I should have died. When I was in that handler’s ship, I thought I was going to die. Rina didn’t even bother, you see. She falsified my records, made me a common man charged with treason, but she didn’t change my name.”

He saw Shun go very still at that, and he nodded. “The name alone should have done the trick. But it didn’t. Until now, I don’t know how that happened.”

Shun appeared thoughtful. “Your father took care not to allow Hamal to possess any records that can identify you. He told my father about it and together, they had all the records encrypted and sealed. Your father feared you’d be assassinated and he’d lose his son and only heir since Rina had already abdicated by then.”

“Yes,” Jun said, “but I saw him studying a blueprint of our planet’s gates when I first met him. He‘s found a way to access the records, somehow.”

Shun frowned. “Him?” Then his eyes widened. “No.”

Jun didn’t say anything, only taking a sip of his drink.

“She sent you to the Emperor Apparent of Hamal?!” Shun asked incredulously.

“Emperor,” Jun corrected. By this time, Sho was having his first hours as Emperor of Hamal.

Shun shook his head, and Jun could see the horror and regret in his expression.

“You couldn’t have prevented it,” Jun told him. “Before they took me, I think they took you first. You think you were taken after, but that’s what they made you believe. The wiser move would have been to imprison you and everyone who’s loyal to me first. That way, they’d be successful with their plan.” Jun clinked their glasses together despite being mostly empty. “We were both pawns. We knew nothing.”

“I swore to protect you,” Shun said. “And I failed.”

“But before you became my captain, you were first my friend,” Jun said. “If you succeeded in protecting me, you would have died. And I would have lost my captain and my friend. If anything, I’m glad you failed. It led us here.”

That made Shun smile, and he said, “You still didn’t answer my question on how you survived.”

“I played along,” Jun said in summary.

Shun frowned. “You’re not good at that. No offense, Jun, but you’re used to people obeying whatever you command. Are you sure you played your part as well as you’re implying?”

Jun punched Shun’s arm playfully, chuckling. “I’m here, aren’t I? That means it worked.” His voice softened when he added, “It worked too well, to the point I almost believed it and wished it were true.”

He didn’t dare glance in Shun’s direction, afraid it would give everything away.

Then, Shun said quietly, “Tell me.”

And Jun did.

--

The hour was late by the time he’d finished talking. He’d told Shun about Nino, Aiba’s sentry, his altercation with Yoko, about Okada, about his time in Ohno’s division. He’d talked about Sheratan, Denebia, and Lucida Ventris, until finally, Mesartim.

When Shun spoke, there was no judgment in his tone. “Alnitak, you said?”

“Yes,” Jun said.

“Did you feel responsible for him? Is that why you took so much effort to see him home?”

“Had I been king, he would have been part of my people,” Jun said. “My responsibility. He looked out for me when he could, and I thought it should be me who was doing that. I’ll never be king, but at least I managed to do something for someone who would have been part of my constituents.”

“And the Hamali Emperor allowed that?” Shun asked.

“Yes.”

Shun studied him, and because of the alcohol they’d both imbibed, Jun knew he could no longer hide things efficiently.

“You didn’t tell me everything,” Shun said knowingly.

Jun looked away. He’d left out what had happened after they’d won the war.

“I’ve heard stories about the Emperor,” Shun said, and Jun knew there was no escaping this talk. “Mostly from your father because I don’t believe in hearsay unless it’s from someone I trust. Your father claimed he wasn’t very likeable.”

“He wasn’t,” Jun acknowledged.

He heard Shun sigh. “Oh Jun,” Shun said with a laugh. He sounded simultaneously amused and fond. “I know you. You love a challenge. You love the thrill it gives you because it gets you going. The drive is hard to resist for you, and when someone poses a challenge, instead of giving up on them, the more they grab your attention. Tell me, did you hate him?”

“Yes,” Jun hissed, and Shun laughed.

“How long?”

“Months,” Jun said. “I spent almost all of the months in exile hating him. Are you happy now?”

“No,” Shun said, “because I don’t know everything yet. You always liked the unattainable. The harder they are to get, the more you think they’re worth your time. But you haven’t really found someone like that, have you?”

“You would know,” Jun said.

“Of course,” Shun said, “that’s why I married Yu.”

“How is she?” Jun asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”

“They’re safe. Yu has a sister that lives in Cygni. They’re all there, including my children. I left to look for you despite their insistence in talking me out of it.” Shun gave him a look. “But don’t make this about me. You’re leaving details out.”

“You’re not asking the right questions,” Jun said, giving Shun a glare despite knowing it wouldn’t work.

“How did it happen?” Shun asked.

“Unexpectedly,” Jun found himself saying, then he thought about it. “No, not quite. Inevitably, I suppose. He’s not...what father made me believe.”

“How was he then?” Shun asked softly.

“Alone,” Jun said, and the thought made him hurt. He should be there on Sho’s side. “Fighting a war that he can’t win.” He looked at Shun seriously, and he knew he couldn’t hide the dread he felt. “Rina’s coming for him.”

Jun couldn’t let that happen. He’d seen Hamal, had lived in it. He’d seen the gravity of Sho’s love for it. Sho, Jun knew, would die fighting for his planet. He’d choose to do so than surrender, regardless if they didn’t stand a chance against the Saiphan army.

“Jun,” Shun said, facing him, “if we wait this out, you’ll have fewer people to fight. Hamal will unite under her emperor and they will choose war than give up their planet. When that happens, Rina will fight. She will not lose, but there will still be a decrease in her army’s numbers. When that happens, we can rally the people to your cause.”

“No,” Jun said, shaking his head. It was unthinkable. “I do that, and I abandon him. I will not.” He met Shun’s gaze evenly. “I will never.”

“You’ve always been loyal to a fault,” Shun said. “But think about it. You still have a claim. You are still the rightful heir; the abdication is only nullified when the named successor is dead. You’re not. Under Saiphan laws, you are her king.”

“Then,” Jun said slowly, realization dawning on him, “if I am her king, I can put an end to all of this. It’s under the king’s powers to call off hostility.”

“But Rina wears the crown,” Shun said.

“Then we take the crown,” Jun said determinedly. “It’s rightfully mine, anyway.”

“You know I will fight your wars and support you as long as I live,” Shun said. “But we don’t have an army. We have thirty men. We don’t stand a chance. We can’t storm the citadel with thirty men. Especially not now when it’s bound to be heavily guarded in preparation for the war against Hamal.”

“I have a name,” Jun said. “You said it yourself: I am the rightful heir. All we have to do is to let Saiph know that their king is alive.”

“And how will we do that?” Shun asked. “We’re all declared enemies of the crown—all thirty of us. We’re wanted dead, not alive. We can’t risk sneaking you into the planet. We’ll never get past the gates, and any transmission we attempt to send to those loyal to you will be intercepted.”

“Then we don’t send the transmission to Saiph,” Jun said.

Jun stood, and he beckoned for Shun to follow him. Despite being slightly inebriated, they managed to enter the bridge of the ship without bumping into anything.

“I made him a promise,” Jun said, “that whatever happens in Mesartim, I will report it to his fortress commandant.” He input Iseya’s contact details and waited for the channel to patch through. He’d used a secure channel, one that wouldn’t be intercepted since it was also private. “I’m overdue.”

They had to wait for almost a minute until Iseya’s face showed up. Jun enabled fullscreen, and he noticed Shun standing straighter behind him.

“Matsumoto-kun,” Iseya greeted. “I was about to message you. His Majesty thinks it’s later than scheduled.”

Jun saw Shun react at the casual address, and he raised a finger to stop Shun. “Fortress commandant of Lucida Ventris, greetings.” He saw the shift in Iseya’s expression, a frown now on his face. “I’d like to request for a personal audience with Emperor Sho of Hamal, in his palace at Sheratan.”

Iseya looked more contemplative than angry at Jun’s audacity, but his frown was yet to disappear. “On whose authority do you demand such?”

“Mine,” Jun said confidently, in a voice he hadn’t used in months. It was surprisingly easier than he’d thought. “I am Crown Prince Matsumoto Jun, the true king of Saiph, and I think your emperor would like to hear what I have to say.”

--

A couple of hours later, Jun only remembered a few details. Shun had to tell him the rest. Iseya had agreed to forward his request immediately, and they should expect a transmission within a few hours.

“I saw his surprise when you told him who you are,” Shun said. “They really didn’t know.”

Now that Jun was sober, he’d had the time to think about it. “I think he’s responsible for that. I’m not sure, but that’s what I believe.”

“He? You mean the Emperor?”

“Someone once told me his greatest weapon was his mind,” Jun said. “I think that’s why he sent me to Mesartim. He knew.”

Jun had mixed feelings about that realization. But he’d never truly know the truth unless he talked to Sho in person, and that was what he had to do.

“When I spoke to him in a live transmission, he never implied anything,” Shun said.

“Wait,” Jun said, slowly remembering. “Live transmission?”

“Yes,” Shun said.

Denebia. The transmission Sho hadn’t told Jun about. He’d been speaking to Shun then.

“He knew even before,” Jun found himself saying. He didn’t know how a laugh escaped from him. “What a fool I’ve been.” He turned to Shun and explained, “I was there when he was talking to you. That was in Denebia.”

Shun didn’t appear too surprised. “He gave the impression of a clever man. Do you think he’ll agree to your request?”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” Jun said. “It’s either me or Rina, and he won’t pick the person who sent her brother in the hands of the enemy.”

“Is that the truth or is that what you’re hoping for?” Shun asked. “Jun, I don’t want to be the person who has to say this, but since there’s no one else, that leaves me no choice. Whatever time you spent together in Denebia and in Hamal, that’s over. You’re not the same man who left Hamal. You’re a king now, just like him. And you both have something to lose.”

“I know,” Jun said, but that didn’t make idea much easier to bear. “I know Rina won’t hesitate to use me against him once she discovers what I have in mind. I know she’ll use him too if she could. I can’t let that happen.” It hurt, but it had to be done. “So she must never know. Everything I told you in the past couple of hours—nobody can know. What he is to me, what we were to one another.”

“I will never betray you,” Shun said. “How many people in Hamal know?”

Jun didn’t like what he was about to say. “An entire fortress.”

Shun gawked at him.

“We were seen,” was all Jun said.

Shun was now pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, at least we know the Hamali won’t betray their emperor. And that it’s to their best interests that not everyone knows that their emperor’s been entangled with a Saiphan.” Shun sighed. “Of all people in the galaxy, Jun.”

“You usually approve of my choices,” Jun said. “Especially regarding this sort of thing.”

“Because those were from the days where you enjoyed your time in pleasure planetoids,” Shun said. “He’s an emperor.”

“And I’m a king,” Jun said. “I don’t think he’ll refuse the idea of an alliance.”

“Of course not,” Shun said. “Now that I know why he sent me to that moon, it’s impossible he’ll refuse.”

“I didn’t know I’d find you in Mesartim,” Jun told him. Jun hadn’t predicted a lot of things. His plan had been simple but full of flaws—it was natural that Sho had come up with a better one.

“But he did,” Shun said. “In a way, what you’re about to propose to him might have been his plan all along.”

The channel beeped with an incoming transmission, and Jun saw it was from Hamal. He and Shun exchanged a look as he moved to open it. “We’ll find out soon.”

--

When Jun had indulged himself and had imagined returning to Hamal, it wasn’t like this. He flew Ikuta’s ship and had thirty Saiphan fighter ships as his escort when he made the entry to the royal spacedock of Hamal. It wasn’t like the spaceport in the outskirts, old and almost abandoned until Sho had found use for it. This spaceport was grand, walls as white as the entire city of Sheratan. It was connected to the city via a bridge that boasted a view of the dark green seas, rising hundreds of feet above the ground. The wind that hit Jun’s face as he walked nearly made him shiver.

Sho had sent Ohno and Aiba to escort their entire party back to the palace, and the judgment in their eyes was something Jun couldn’t deny. They thought he’d used Sho to regain his power. They weren’t wrong, if only that had been Jun’s intention.

Jun hadn’t intended for any of this to happen.

He heard whispers from the common folk as they walked the streets. The last time Jun had set foot in this city, he’d done his best to avoid attention. Now the attention was all on him—only a week after the new emperor had assumed the throne, news of the supposed survival of the Crown Prince of Saiph had broken out.

And now here he was, two weeks later, taking a diplomatic visit to Hamal in the flesh. They stared at him and whispered to one another—about how he looked, the lack of jewelry on his person, the simplicity of his clothes. Shun had managed to procure traditional Saiphan clothes for him to replace the Hamali ones he’d gotten accustomed to wearing, and they’d felt foreign on his skin as soon as he’d put them on.

But this was who he was. Who he truly was.

The palace gates opened upon their arrival, and Jun was greeted by Sho’s council, headed by a woman—Sho’s sister, from one look at her face. She looked just like her brother.

“Your Majesty,” she said in greeting, in Jun’s language. Her accent was off, but her syllabication was perfect.

The title sounded alien to Jun’s ears. “Your Highness,” he said in return.

“This is Princess Mai, sister of the Emperor,” the herald beside them said, this time in Hamali. “Welcome to Hamal, Saiphan king. We’ve been expecting you.”

“The Emperor’s household is gracious,” Jun said in Hamali. Their surprise at his pitch-perfect accent was palpable. He ignored it. “May he reign long.”

“Come,” Mai said to him, and Jun offered her his arm which she took. They walked, followed by council members and soldiers. “My brother’s waiting in court. He regrets not being able to welcome you personally, but he’s wanted everywhere.”

“I’m certain,” Jun said, allowing her to lead him around. “My sister is coming any moment.”

“Your sister?” Mai asked, and Jun could already see the similarities between siblings. Perhaps it was in the blood.

“Half-sister,” Jun amended. “In Saiph, it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters here,” Mai said.

“Of course,” Jun said. Traditions, he reminded himself. “My apologies. Terminologies are not my strong suit.”

“Now that won’t do,” Mai told him, stopping before closed doors. The court was just beyond, and Jun could tell because of the noise. Of course there were debates already. Sho’s council had undoubtedly told him not to meet with Jun, but here he was. “If that’s how it is, you won’t last five minutes with my brother.”

“I’ve lasted longer,” Jun said before he could help it.

If Sho’s sister had any reaction, Jun didn’t notice it; the doors were opening. It revealed the throne room where Sho was holding court, and at one raise of his hand, the talking stopped.

He looked beautiful. Sitting atop a throne made of marble and dressed in fine garments dyed red and gold, he captured Jun’s attention in an instant. There was no one else Jun could see. His feet had a mind of their own when he started walking, and he thought he was hearing the herald announce his presence, his name, his title.

None of those mattered. Sho had seen him without any of those, and the look he gave Jun hadn’t changed.

Until Jun made it in front of him, and Sho rose from his seat.

“You’ve met my sister,” Sho said.

“Yes,” Jun said anyway.

Sho’s cool look after that reply was reminiscent of the first few months Jun had spent in the outskirts. Gone was the familiarity and the affection, replaced by civility and cautious regard. It had to be taking all of Sho’s effort to look at him like that.

“You’d forgive the whispers,” Sho said, waving a hand. “You’re the second Saiphan king we welcomed here. Some of them have seen the king before you, and so they talk.”

“It’s not their talk that matters,” Jun said.

“Of course,” Sho said, turning to his court. “Leave us.”

A shuffle of movement and the hall began to empty save for the members of Sho’s royal guard—Keiko, Daigo, and Kiko were standing behind the throne, unmoving. They eyed Jun in the same way Ohno and Aiba had, who had also remained. Sho’s sister stood beside him, the only one who didn’t give Jun a look of distrust and hatred.

Jun gave a nod to Shun, who dismissed the rest of their men. He only had Shun with him, but he knew Sho wouldn’t harm him. Not here.

“You’ve sent a rather daring transmission, Your Majesty,” Sho said, taking a seat. He crossed his legs, one arm on the rest, and he rested his chin on his knuckles. “Imagine my surprise.”

Jun didn’t want to, even if he could. “Unnecessary. I’m here because I have a proposal I think you might consider, given the circumstances. War is coming to your doorstep.”

Sho quirked an eyebrow. “And here I thought you were here as a suitor.”

It earned a smile from Mai, but Jun felt as if he’d been struck by those words. Don’t say it like that, he begged with his eyes. We both know what I meant by that.

If Sho noticed, Jun couldn’t tell. Sho still had that mask of cool indifference. He looked impenetrable and unwelcoming, eyes calculating.

Jun wondered what Sho could see in him. Their eyes never met.

“Then speak, Your Majesty,” Sho said after a moment. “Speak in front of those whom I trust, and I’ll decide if you’re deserving of that trust as well.”

The words sliced through Jun like tiny blades, but he paid it no mind. Kings had sacrfices to make. “As you know, my half-sister has usurped the throne of Saiph by murdering my father and putting me in exile. I suspect she had the help of her mother. They declared war on Hamal, and considering your refusal to parley, I gather they will arrive soon.”

“Soon,” Mai repeated beside Sho. “How soon?”

Jun turned to Shun, who bowed before replying in broken Hamali, “A month at most.”

He could sense the change in the air at that. That was sooner than expected, Jun knew. “My planet boasts of advanced technology and weaponry, and we estimate it’ll only take my half-sister a month to completely mobilize her army. She will not call upon those allied with Saiph to aid her now that I’ve returned and made my survival known in the galaxy. But her forces should be enough—no army in Hamal can fight them off and win.”

He inclined his head towards those surrounding Sho’s throne. “I meant no offense; it’s simply the truth. Without Denebia, Hamal stands alone, and try as you might, you cannot win this war.”

“So what do you propose, Your Majesty?” Sho asked. “I’ve seen your men. No more than thirty. I’m sure they’re the best, but thirty men against an armada is nothing. You’d hardly make a blip in the roster.”

“I’m not offering you my men,” Jun said.

Sho regarded him.

“I’m offering myself,” he said. “I am the rightful heir, named by my father after my half-sister had abdicated. I am the Saiphan king, and once my planet learns of my survival, it will forestall the attack.”

“Forestall how?” Sho asked, but he must’ve had the idea already.

“The people will rally against the usurper and it will demoralize the Saiphan army,” Jun said. “I know our military. They follow orders to a cause, but if the cause is wrong, they think twice. They will not follow a false queen.”

“You would allow your planet to fall into ruin to stop her from attacking mine?” Sho asked, eyebrows lifted in mock-surprise. “How noble. You see, I never took you for someone so honorable, Your Majesty, that you’d risk your people’s lives for mine.” He paused, smiling. “Is that how it is? You’d do anything to be king, even if you will rule among ruins and ashes?”

“No,” Jun said trying to keep his temper in check. “Does it matter to you what happens to my planet? What I’m proposing will prevent war from coming to you.”

“At the expense of somebody else’s lives,” Sho said. “I’m sure you have a lovely name and a glorious title attached to it, but when that’s done and history is being taught to future generations, you are nothing but a butcher.”

“Do you think I will let my people die?” Jun asked seriously.

That made Sho pause, long enough that Jun had thought he wouldn’t answer.

But he did. “No,” Sho said.

Jun took a deep breath. “I propose an alliance between our kingdoms, Majesty. It never happened before, not between Saiph and Hamal. But together, we can stop the war from happening and usher in a time of peace. One that our people long deserved after centuries of disputes and fighting.”

The tension in the room shifted, and Sho considered the proposal.

“Alliances don’t come cheap,” Sho said. “What do you have to offer me aside from your allegiance? Do you have anything I could possibly want?”

“Yes,” Jun said confidently. He caught the momentary frown Sho had—clearly Sho hadn’t been expecting that. “My throne.”

He remembered Sho had made the same offer in Denebia. He could see that Sho did, too.

“Mine for yours,” Jun said. “I am not crowned, but you are. When my half-sister comes, you’ll be Emperor still, but you’ll be the one sitting on a throne of ruins and ashes. It won’t be me.”

“I suppose if I accept, you expect me to help you reclaim your throne?” Sho asked.

“Yes,” Jun said simply. “You said it yourself: thirty men against an armada is nothing.”

Sho’s eyes narrowed at him as if to say: You’re learning. You’ve learned.

“I see you crowned, I keep my crown,” Sho said. “You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple,” Jun said.

“That’s easy to say for someone who has nothing to lose,” Sho said. “Unlike you, I have everything—an empire, a planet, a family.”

The last bit made Jun shut his eyes. “But you almost lost them. And now you might lose them again. I have nothing, that is true. Which means I have nothing to protect. I’m here because I can admit to myself that I can’t do this alone. Can you?”

“Admit something to myself or do something alone?” Sho asked.

Jun met his gaze evenly. “I think you know.”

For a moment, Sho fell silent. Jun could see in the faces of the Hamali that this wasn’t a common occurrence—Sho always had the last word.

“Leave us,” Sho said, turning to his sister.

Mai frowned at him.

Sho only nodded, and Mai gave him one last look before giving a signal to Keiko and the others. Jun looked over his shoulder to nod at Shun, and Shun clasped his shoulder and squeezed before turning to go with the others.

The doors sliding shut started the thundering beat of Jun’s heart. Now that they were alone, they could speak openly. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dreading what Sho had to say.

“Would you like something to drink?” Sho asked. “I could send for an attendant.”

“No,” Jun said.

“I should have known you’d find a way back,” Sho said. “But this is sooner than I thought.”

“You knew,” Jun said, and he could no longer keep the emotion from his voice. “You knew who I was all along.”

“That you’re Saiph’s missing prince? My sworn enemy?” Sho asked. “Matsumoto Jun, direct descendant of the old Saiphan king who spirited away my ancestor, heir to the throne they established together after years of bloodshed?”

“Yes,” Jun said, the word coming out hollow.

“No, I did not,” Sho said, tone flat. Jun couldn’t hide his surprise. “Not at first.”

“My name wasn’t changed,” Jun said. “You—it’s impossible. You had a blueprint of our gates when we first met.”

“I managed to retrieve blueprints, yes,” Sho agreed. “That doesn’t mean I managed to find updated records of you. And why should I bother? I had no idea we’d ever meet.”

It made sense. It did, however—

“You said ‘at first’,” Jun told him. “Since when?”

“I think you ought to know you did a very poor job in hiding your upbringing. When we first met, you talked like a royal, walked like a royal, acted like a royal. You spoke languages that shouldn’t be possible for an ordinary soldier. Soldiers were trained to follow orders. They weren’t given expensive education. You were stubborn and defiant, proud unlike any other prisoner I’ve met,” Sho said. “That alone hinted at who you were.”

Jun noticed that Sho wasn’t answering the question. “But you didn’t believe it.”

Sho blinked, eyes darting away for a second, but it was enough. It told Jun everything.

“Didn’t believe what?” Sho asked, voice detached.

“That it was me,” Jun said. “That you had the Saiphan prince for a prisoner.”

“I did believe it,” Sho said. “Eventually, there was nothing else for me to do.”

“That’s why you made me your bodyguard,” Jun said, finally realizing. “You knew who I was then. That’s why you said those things to me back at your ship just after I saved your life.” He had to look away to steady himself. “Was that bait? Were you goading me then, to see how I’d react?”

“Yes,” Sho admitted. “I had to see for myself who you were once I realized you were never going to admit it yourself.”

Jun let out a bitter laugh. “How cruel. As expected of you.”

“I didn’t know you then,” Sho said.

Jun willed himself not to look. “Know? What’s there to know? You hated me then, you hate me now. More so given who I really am. You knew. That’s why you sent me to Mesartim.”

“You had a choice in Mesartim,” Sho said. “One you didn’t choose to take.”

“Choice?” Jun asked between gritted teeth. “I had no choice. That was my captain right there, the captain of my personal guard that you sent to meet me. What were you expecting me to do?”

“Run away,” Sho said, and Jun heard the honesty in his voice. “I wanted you to run away. Hide wherever your captain deemed was safe for you. That was your way out. And like the idiot you’re always proving yourself to be, you didn’t take it.”

“I’m not a coward,” Jun said. “After all the months we spent together, you really thought I’d do that?”

To his surprise, Sho laughed. “No. But I hoped you would. I hoped you’d see reason and stay away.” When he spoke again, he no longer looked at Jun. “Mesartim was your chance.”

“I’m part of this war,” Jun said. “Running away would be abandoning my duty. I’ve abandoned it long enough, in all the months I spent here. I turned back on who I was for so long.”

“Say the words,” Sho said.

Jun didn’t understand. “What words?”

“That this is who you really are. That whoever I met, made myself believe to be really you wasn’t you at all. Mesartim was my ultimatum to myself. I thought if you ran away and left for good, I’d have the memory of the person you created, of someone I always had whenever I needed. And I thought if you came back after Mesartim, that was my answer.”

Sho looked at him now. “Now say the words. Tell me that the man who stood by my side at Denebia and at Lucida Ventris is not the man I’m facing now.”

Jun’s voice was soft when he said, “That was all me.”

“No,” Sho said, this time in denial. “No.”

“It was me with you from the beginning,” Jun said. “What are you saying?”

“No, this is the real you,” Sho said, pointing at him. “This—Saiphan prince, king, whoever you claim yourself to be—this is who you are. The man I got to know, spent my time with, he—he doesn’t exist. You made him up.”

“You believed him as much as I did,” Jun said. “We both did. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Sho looked away, and he let out a shaky breath. “You called me cruel. You would know what that means. Was everything a lie then? Tell me at once so I can put it all behind me. Tell me now so I can forget.”

It hurt, seeing and hearing Sho like this. The composure was gone, the emperor was gone. This was just Sho, and Jun—

Jun still wanted him.

“I never lied to you,” Jun said. It was the truth; he’d answered all of Sho’s questions then to the best of his ability.

Sho stared right at him. “‘You have me’?”

“Don’t,” Jun heard himself say, his voice nothing but a croak. “That—that wasn’t a lie. You know it wasn’t.”

“I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” Sho said. “I suppose I am partly at fault for letting it go on for so long. I thought you’d come right out and tell me. Especially after.”

“After,” Jun said. “That night—”

“Stop lying to me,” Sho said immediately.

“That night wasn’t a lie,” Jun said, anger rearing its ugly head. “When I kissed you—”

“Don’t remind me,” Sho said harshly, but Jun ignored him.

“—it was all me. You know it. You asked for my name. You removed the badge before you kissed back. You didn’t want the lie; you wanted me for who I was.”

“And what a mistake it was,” Sho said, facing him. “Did you do that because you knew I can’t say no to what you’re offering once you returned to who you really are? Or did you do that just to see if you could?”

Jun tried to hide how Sho’s words had gutted him but couldn’t. He could hear it in his voice as he said, “I said you weren’t a conquest. That was the truth. Everything that happened that night and the night after it, I did all of that because I wanted you. Those times, I thought I’d live the lie if I could be with you.”

“So you did it because you could,” Sho said.

“No!” Jun snapped, shaking his head. “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. You see me, you understand me. You can tell by looking at me. Do you really think that was all a lie?”

Sho averted his eyes.

“Look at me,” Jun said.

Sho didn’t. “Why is it,” Sho began, “that you never do what you’re supposed to do, what I expected you to do?”

Jun frowned, and Sho continued, “You were supposed to tell me you played me false to force my hand into this alliance. You were supposed to tell me that night and everything after it were done out of necessity, not out of want. That way, it would be easier.” Sho sighed in seeming exhaustion. “Why do you always choose to prove me otherwise?”

“Did you think I could be that cruel?” Jun asked.

“Yes,” Sho answered. “It was what I was made to believe in. All my life, I’ve been told about a prince fifty-seven light years away who would be the same kind of king his father before him had been. I’ve been told this prince would take what’s mine, not help me defend it. That he’d kill my people, not aid me in protecting them. It would’ve been so much easier if you turned out to be as cruel as they said. That way, I could’ve hated you utterly. Instead here I am, still somewhat happy that you’re here despite not being the same man who left my side. Pitiful, isn’t it?”

“I never intended for any of this,” Jun said. “If you doubt anything I say from now on, never doubt that.”

The silence that followed lasted for minutes. Jun could only look at Sho, at the obvious hurt on his face. He’d done that. He’d caused that, and right now, he’d give anything to undo it.

But he could never go back to what once was.

“If we establish an alliance today,” Sho said, voice suddenly very diplomatic and formal, “for how long shall it last?”

It was, Jun thought, Sho’s way of asking: how long will you stay this time?

The answer would always be the same.

“For as long as we both want it,” Jun said. “Years. Decades. Centuries. Ages. We can make history right here, right now.”

“What do you require in exchange for your cooperation?” The civility was back, and whatever emotion Sho had shown earlier had been suppressed once more.

“Your cooperation,” Jun said. “Help me get my throne back in the same way I helped you. Let my people know I’m alive, let me speak to them as their king. Allow me to inform them who the real enemy is.”

“You would risk civil war?”

“I will fight my sister if I have to,” Jun said.

“And what’s saying you won’t side with her when the time comes?” Sho asked. “I’m having trouble giving trust right now, you see. The last person I gave it to turned out to be not who he claimed to be.”

Jun closed his eyes briefly and said, “I will never betray you. You know this.”

“There are many things I don’t know,” Sho said. “Most of them are things involving you.” He straightened in his seat. “You will have your answer tomorrow. There are quarters prepared for you and your men, and a banquet will be held tonight.”

He spoke like an emperor—no touch of emotion, authoritative, precise.

“Will you be there?” Jun asked. There was no point if Sho wasn’t there.

“I’d prefer not to,” Sho said spitefully, honestly. “I’m having trouble looking at you as it is. If I could, I’d send you out so I’ll never see your face again. But it’d be tantamount to another declaration of war if I failed to be a gracious host. You’ve had your chance to make your demands. You’ve named them, and I listened to them.” His voice cracked when he whispered, “Now leave me be.”

In another time, Jun wouldn’t budge. He’d stay right where he stood and not leave Sho alone.

But Sho had been right: he was no longer the same man that had left Sho’s side. He wasn’t that Jun anymore, the loyal Saiphan bodyguard of the future emperor.

He inclined his head in a passable bow, gave Sho one last look that Sho didn’t return, and turned on his heel.

--

True to his word, Sho was absent in the banquet. Instead his sister had attended in his place, explaining that her emperor brother was consulting with his council and the empress dowager regarding Jun’s proposal.

Jun had been given the honor he deserved, seated on the high table. Had Sho attended, they would have sat beside one another. What he had instead was an empty chair on his left and Mai on his right.

Mai was kind enough to introduce the courses to Jun, and if Sho had told her about Jun’s role in the previous war, Jun couldn’t tell. She certainly didn’t look at Jun for too long, keeping things casual and respectful at all times. A true-born princess.

“My brother sent me here to entertain you, actually,” Mai confessed some time later, after a few courses. “He said you had the propensity for being easily bored.”

“He makes me sound very pampered,” Jun said. “You don’t have to entertain anyone, Your Highness. If anything, you should be the one entertained.”

“A very practiced answer,” Mai said with a laugh. “I’ve heard you had quite the reputation in your court, Your Majesty. Forgive me for listening to gossip, but with information on you being a scarcity here, there’s only the hearsay to base imaginations from.”

“I’m not offended,” Jun said. “And I’m sure you’re expecting this answer, but my reputation precedes me. Not so different from your brother.”

“I wouldn’t know about my brother’s reputation,” Mai told him. “I know him enough to not listen to what other people think of him.” She waved her hand in Jun’s direction. “You, on the other hand, I know nothing about. And yet when my brother spoke to you earlier, there was...familiarity there. Not very obvious to just anyone, but I’ve known him all my life.” She looked at him now, eye-to-eye. “And from the looks on everyone’s faces, they all knew you.”

“It’s not just my story to tell,” Jun said, inclining his head. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to refuse. But this concerns His Majesty the Emperor as well.”

“I will not pry,” Mai said, taking her goblet in hand. “My brother’s affairs are his own. But I suppose I should have known.” She gave Jun a passing look. “He has a type.”

There was no room for embarrassment in front of her, and Jun felt no ounce of it in him. Everyone in the fortress had known, and he’d held his head high then.

“Obedient people?” Jun asked. In his time in Sho’s camp, it must’ve been a source of joy for Sho to see him following orders.

“No,” Mai said with a small laugh which she hid at the back of her hand. “People who are too much like him, I’d say. Narcissistic, if you ask me, but he’s always been—” she paused and smiled, “—unconventional, is the term the court often uses. They can’t predict him.”

“And you can?” Jun asked.

“Yes,” Mai said. “He told me he’ll give you an answer tomorrow. I believe he will say yes.”

Jun thought the same, but instead he asked, “Why are you telling me this, Your Highness?”

“Because my brother is stubborn,” Mai said. “But he knows reason and sees it especially if it’s right before him. He will say yes because it’s beneficial to him—to us. If he helps you and you succeed, he saves Hamal. Twice. If he helps you and you don’t succeed, same thing. Hamal will still honor him as a hero.”

“And is that what the emperor wants? Glory? For his name to last through the ages as the monarch who fought bravely for his planet?”

“Oh no,” Mai said, and now she had a soft smile on her face. “No. My brother—for all his talk and actions—is a simple man. He wants just one thing.”

“One thing?”

Mai nodded. “Peace.” She looked straight at Jun. “He’s been fighting his whole life. He’s never known peace, to the point he craves it. Can you give that to him?”

Jun said honestly, “I don’t know.”

Mai gave him a sad smile, as if she’d been expecting Jun’s response.

“But,” Jun said, looking out into the hall, at the smiles of people who aren’t his own, “for him, I will try.”

--

The sleep Jun had in the quarters he’d been provided with was restless. He kept waking up, unaccustomed to smooth sheets, a soft mattress, and fluffy pillows. For months, he’d slept on the ground in a sleeping bag that had barely fit him. Now he had all the luxury and the comfort once more, but it wasn’t as poetic as he’d dreamt about then. He thought he’d sleep soundly.

Morning came and Jun was summoned to the throne room after breakfast. He went with only Shun in tow, and he was greeted with the sight of Sho and the members of his council. Jun hardly remembered their faces. His eyes were on one person only.

Sho looked like he hardly slept. It was the norm for him, but all Jun could recall was how Sho had looked like the morning after, those precious few seconds that Jun had had as he’d watched Sho sleep.

It felt like a lifetime ago, an experience that belonged to somebody else.

Jun reached the front of the dais and made his greetings, addressing the emperor and his council. He noticed that Mai and the empress dowager were both absent, but his attention snapped back to Sho at once when Sho spoke.

“We’ve discussed your proposal in length,” Sho said, nodding to his sides. “And so I have three conditions before I accept. You must say yes to all three, or there is no treaty.”

“I understand,” Jun said. “Name them, Your Majesty.”

“First is that Mesartim will be returned to Hamal,” Sho said. “It is rightfully Hamal’s, and so that’s where it should be. In your reign and whoever reigns after you, this will be honored.”

“Done,” Jun said. “The satellite has always belonged to you; we took it wrongly, and you have my word that I’ll see it restored.”

“Secondly,” Sho said, “the technology of Saiph will be shared with Hamal. From medical advancements to spacecraft modifications. You use our ores to build your defenses. Without our raw materials, you have nothing. You need our resources before you can do your procedures. Teach us the procedure, and you’ll have a lifetime supply of ore of any kind. No need to invade a mining satellite.”

“Consider it done,” Jun said. “You’ll have our latest technology, even our military improvements. What is Saiph’s will be Hamal’s, and vice versa.”

“Lastly,” Sho said, “should the time come that your people will visit this planet, they must adapt to our customs and culture as is appropriate. Likewise, my people will respectfully observe your traditions should they choose to visit your planet. There will be no feud over cultural misunderstanding of any kind. Educate my people if you have to, but let your own people undergo the same.”

“I expected nothing less from you,” Jun said seriously. “It will be done as you say. If I become king, Saiph’s gates will be open to all Hamali, including the colonies under Hamali’s protection. All of Saiph will be accessible to your people should they have need of it.”

“Then you have your treaty, Saiphan king,” Sho said, eyes cold and not on Jun. “You shall have Hamal’s support in your campaign, and should you succeed, we expect your end of the bargain to be fulfilled.”

Sho stood and descended the dais, his fine robes fitting him perfectly in rich, bright hues. A council member stepped forward with a pad, showing its screen to Jun. It was everything Sho had mentioned, neatly outlined in Hamali, Saiphan, and the common tongue. Jun skimmed through the words, most of them blurring over one another in their repetitiveness.

“After you,” Sho said, extending his hand.

Jun was handed a stylus, and he affixed his signature on the designated space before handing Sho the stylus.

Sho didn’t take it. He waited until he was given another by a council member, signing his name beside Jun’s. His hand hadn’t trembled, but he didn’t glance at Jun even once.

“Today, Hamal joins the right cause,” Sho said, addressing his court. “Today, on behalf of Hamal, I chose the path to possible peace. Let this day be known as the beginning of an alliance between planets which spent more than a century as enemies. The throne of Hamal for the Saiphan throne, an emperor for a king.” Sho didn’t look at him. “Hamal recognizes you as the rightful king of Saiph, Matsumoto Jun. Whatever’s mine is yours, and yours will be mine.”

“As it should be,” Jun said evenly.

“In Hamal, alliances are celebrated for three days,” Sho said. “You will have three days’ worth of celebrations in your name. Those three days begin now.”

“The emperor is gracious,” Jun said, emotionless.

A councilman stepped close to Sho and whispered something, and Sho nodded. “My people are already celebrating in your name. The signing was made public, you see. The entire planet acted as our witness.”

Jun hadn’t known that, which was likely Sho’s intention.

“Go and meet them,” Sho said to him despite not directly looking at him. “My people are also your people now.”

It was Sho’s way on sending him out. There was nothing else to do but to accept, and he bowed as was acceptable and made his way out.

He was escorted back to his quarters and provided with clothes befitting his status that were also designed in the Saiphan way. They didn’t feel oversized like Nagase’s clothes. These had been tailored for him, and when he put them on, he almost didn’t recognize himself in front of the mirror.

It was a three-piece white suit, the coat having an intricate design sewn by hand. It wasn’t embroidered in gold like Sho’s, instead the silken material had a glistening pattern all over it. When Jun ran his hand over the sleeve, he could hardly feel the smoothness. His fingers had calluses now.

An attendant came to help him with his hair, and Jun agreed only to a little trim. He didn’t want to come back to how his hair had looked like before his exile. His fringe that had nearly touched his eyes now only reached up to his eyebrows, and he was groomed until he found someone looking like a king staring back at him when he looked at his reflection.

He put the gloves on and was left alone for a few moments. He didn’t feel like a king. He felt like he’d been stuffed in clothes that hadn’t suited him for long.

A knock on the door and when he said, “Enter,” he saw an elderly woman come in. He turned swiftly and bowed in reverence; it was the empress dowager. Jun knew her face from the holos of rejection his father had received, but combined with the whole look including the robes and the crown, she looked rather intimidating.

She was nothing Jun felt. She was confident, elegant, and wise, and standing in her presence made Jun’s heart race.

“Lift your head,” she said, and Jun did.

“I would inquire about your health, but you seem very well,” Jun said politely.

A quirk of the corner of her mouth was all he received. “You look very handsome.”

“I haven’t worn clothes like these in so long,” Jun admitted. He felt out of place.

“My son had those made four days ago,” she said.

Jun was surprised, and Sho’s mother simply nodded.

“When I asked, he said he was expecting something to happen,” she told him. “I didn’t understand him then. A Hamali emperor asking his personal tailor to make royal Saiphan clothing. But then you arrived, and all pieces fell into place.” She stared at him, and Jun knew he couldn’t hide a thing from her. “What’s your association with my son?”

Jun pondered on the answer for as long as he could. “I helped him win the war.”

“You killed Inamine,” she concluded.

“Yes.”

“And that is all? Our people know nothing of the identity of Inamine’s killer. We decided not to reveal it given the bloodthirsty background of the war. But Sho did tell me it was by the hand of someone he trusted.” Jun had to shut his eyes at those words. “Is that all you have to say with regards to my query?”

In his heart, despite all his hopes, Jun knew there would never be a repeat of what he and Sho had shared. They could never return to that, even if Jun was here in Hamal again. Things weren’t the same.

“That is all,” he said, ignoring the ache he felt.

Her eyes narrowed, and Jun felt as if she was scrutinizing him. “Do you know what my son told me when I asked why he wanted to say yes to your offer? It didn’t matter that he had no other choice. To me, now that he’s emperor, there are things he must decide on his own. I only asked him for his reason.”

“Because your son is a clever man and he could tell that what I proposed was more beneficial to him than to me,” Jun said. “That if civil war breaks out in my planet, it will delay the invasion to his and thus buy him more time.”

Sho’s mother smiled. “No, that’s not what he said. Thought I don’t blame you for thinking it. You are your father’s son, after all. May the stars shine upon him.” She inclined her head and Jun nodded. “No, Sho told me he wanted to say yes because he thought if he denied you, you’d go ahead and fight for your crown anyway.”

Jun had nothing to say. His surprise had taken over him.

“I thought I had to meet the man whom Sho didn’t want to abandon,” she said. “Do you remember what I asked you earlier?”

“Yes,” Jun said softly.

“I know my son. He doesn’t risk what he has for just anyone.” Outside the palace, they could hear Sheratan beginning its celebration. “Now tell me before you leave: is your answer the same as before?”

Was that all Sho was to him?

Jun went with the truth. “There’s nothing more to say. Whatever happened then will never happen again, no matter how much I wish for things to be different. He is...important to me. But he can’t be anything more. You would understand.”

“Spoken like a king,” she said. “You look like one.” She moved to leave. “My daughter will serve as your guide throughout the celebrations. You’d forgive my absence; I’m still recovering though I don’t look like it.”

“I hope you feel better soon,” Jun said politely, bowing. “I hope to see you on the final day of the celebrations.”

“In Hamal, we try not to miss that.” The doors slid open for her when she reached them. “He will be there, if that’s what you’d like to know.”

Before Jun could respond, the empress dowager left, her elegant robe sweeping behind her as she walked away.

--

The celebrations were alien to Jun in the sense that he had no idea about the songs, the performances, the gifts that had been presented to him. There were games held in his name and honor on the first day, and he rewarded the victors on the second day by letting them share his table and their stories with him. In Saiph, games lasted for weeks. It was evident that Hamal only held games to imitate what Jun was accustomed to, but they hadn’t quite gotten it right.

On the final day, Sho was indeed present, but he hardly exchanged a word with Jun. If they spoke, it was out of formality. Sho didn’t look at him in the eye and was careful not to be left alone with him. When night came and the dancing was everywhere, a man approached the dais, inclined his head at Jun, and asked Sho for a dance.

Such things weren’t uncommon in Hamal, but Sho accepting apparently was. There was a change in the air when Sho accepted, allowing himself to be led away from Jun. Jun followed them with his eyes, not letting them disappear within the crowd, though the people parted for them and gave them space as the music changed.

“That’s one of his suitors,” Mai said. She sat on Sho’s other side, and from the look on her face, she had to be watching Jun’s reaction for a while. “To my knowledge, my brother turned him down.”

“Then why is he here?” Jun asked. Sho was a passable dancer, and Jun saw him share a laugh with whoever he was dancing with. “If he’s been rejected, why come back?”

“Because my brother rejected him when he was still Emperor Apparent,” Mai explained. “Now that he’s emperor, they’re all trying again. You should have seen the princess from Vega try to win his hand. I’m surprised he accepted to dance; he normally declines.”

“I could tell,” Jun said, looking around. Everybody was watching the emperor. The spike of jealousy was unwelcome but ever present. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m afraid I’m deficient in that particular lesson when it was taught to me,” Mai said with a smile. “But I know someone who would want to.” She pointed to Jun’s right, and Jun saw Kiko. “She told me she saw you dance before.”

“She did,” Jun said, standing. “Please excuse me.”

Mai only waved her hand, and Jun made his way to where Kiko stood. She wasn’t wearing a dress like the others, instead a pair of trousers tucked inside her boots that ran up to her shins. She smiled when Jun was right before her.

“You seem friendlier compared to four days ago,” Jun said as a way of greeting.

“Your expression amuses me,” Kiko said.

Jun frowned. “What?”

“You should’ve just asked him,” Kiko said.

Jun only stared at her.

“Now look, he’s dancing with a suitor. Had you asked first—”

“He would have declined,” Jun said immediately. “He doesn’t want to talk to me. Let alone stay in my presence for too long.”

Kiko tilted her head to the side as she watched him. “Well, you did lie to him. To everyone in the camp. They’re all still angry in their own ways.”

“And you’re not?”

“I was,” Kiko said. “But I thought you weren’t lying about the meteor storms.”

Her casual tone was something Jun preferred. He’d feel weird if she suddenly became respectful towards him. She’d made his nose bleed in their practice fights.

“I wasn’t,” Jun said. “And I never lied to him. He knew anyway. He knew way before.”

Kiko took his hand and said, “Ask him for a dance.”

“He’d say no,” Jun said, entirely convinced of it.

“He won’t when you do it in the middle of the dance floor and I take his suitor away,” Kiko said, grinning at him. “Come.”

Jun allowed Kiko to lead him, only taking over once they reached the floor. The music was about to end and they made their way to where Sho and his suitor were, and when the music transitioned to another one again, Kiko offered herself.

“This is a member of my personal guard,” Sho said as an introduction. “Forgive her; she’s quite overprotective of me.”

Sho’s suitor chuckled. “I’ll answer any question she might have for me,” he said, offering his arm to Kiko who took it and led him away.

“Dance with me,” Jun said as soon as they were far enough.

“You planned this,” Sho said, his lips hardly moving.

“I need to talk to you,” Jun said.

“I have nothing to say,” Sho told him. “Tomorrow, we can talk all day about war. If you want a conversation, save it for tomorrow.”

“I need you to listen to me,” Jun said, extending his palm out. “Please.”

When Sho took his hand, he found himself wishing he removed the gloves. He couldn’t feel anything. Sho’s grip was loose as they danced with the rest of the court, his eyes nowhere on Jun’s.

There had been a time, Jun thought, that Sho only had eyes for him.

“You’d use a cheap ploy to get me to do anything you want,” Sho said, voice hard. “What is it this time?”

“Why do you think I need something from you?” Jun asked, hurting. He’d never felt so far away from Sho like now. They were closer than they had been since Jun’s return, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reach Sho.

“You have something to say, you said. Say it so this will be over.”

“Tell me what happened here,” Jun said. “To your aunt. To your mother. How you got your crown.”

“Are you a historian now?”

“There was a time you’d tell me about these things.”

“And that time has passed,” Sho said dismissively. “You are not my confidant. Stop asking.”

Jun found himself nodding. He led Sho close to the dais and stopped moving to the beat. “I won’t force you. I’ve said that and it remains true to this day.” His chest constricted as he let Sho go, knowing it was for the best.

There’d be nothing after this. This, Jun promised himself, was the last time he’d try. And he had to respect Sho’s answer.

Sho’s face was expressionless, and Jun took a step back. “Tomorrow, we talk of war. Excuse me,” he said. He had to be alone.

He left without waiting for a reply, heading outside to remain in the veranda that overlooked the sea. The night breeze hit his face and mussed his hair but he paid it no mind. He rested his weight on the cool marble and looked up. He saw the pitcher and the other constellations Sho had told him about, and remembered.

What once was will return in one way or another, Sho had said.

Jun knew that was impossible. He could never return. He’d never wear that badge again, never stand by Sho’s side again. Sho was emperor now and no longer needed him.

He had to let go. It would only compromise him when the time comes. Rina, if she found out, would use Sho against him, and he couldn’t let that happen. He had to stay focused and detach himself from whatever he was feeling.

He had to forget, in one way or another.

If he managed to stop the war from happening and got his crown, he’d have no reason to be in Hamal anymore. They’d never see each other again. It hurt, but there was no other way. Jun couldn’t be selfish now, not when he’d neglected his duty for so long.

He had to give up something to gain another. And he’d choose as Sho had before him. A sacrifice a king had to make.

The wind blew and howled against his ear as he closed his eyes. His solitude only existed in the physical aspect; he was plagued by thoughts, memories, and uncertainties. He had Sho for an ally, but that only existed on paper.

No matter, he thought. He’d survived Hamal and its harshness towards his kind. He could survive this. Even if he didn’t want to, he had no choice.

He had no one. Whatever was about to happen, he had to fight on his own.

--

In Sho’s private study, they talked of war as promised. Jun went there with Shun, arriving to Sho, Ohno, and Aiba. Sho’s council were connected to them via a live feed in a private channel, and when Jun had asked, Ohno had explained that Sho didn’t like too many people entering his study regardless of who they were.

“This,” Sho said, handing a pad that Jun took, “is the declaration of hostility your planet sent to mine, approximately two months ago, signed by the usurper who declares herself queen of Saiph. I have fewer than three weeks left to respond to that. With you here, I suppose my answer is obvious. Hamal will not surrender.”

“Your Majesty,” a councilman said, his face a hologram on Sho’s desk, “as you’ve been informed, the council is split on this. Half is with you, and the other half wants to try to parley. We’d like to know what the King of Saiph has to say.”

“She will not parley,” Jun said, convinced of it. “If she does, it’s only for show. And her offer will be meager and belittling. If she offers anything, it will be done just to goad you into fighting her.”

Sho looked at the holo and said, “If you doubt my judgment, do not doubt his. He lived with her.” To Jun: “How many years?”

“Twenty-five,” Jun said, shutting his eyes briefly. “I was twenty-five when she abdicated.”

“And nine years later, she chooses to betray you for the simple matter of the Saiphan crown. Lovely.” Sho turned back to his council. “We will accept their offer to parley should there be one. I still intend to hear them out. But my decision is made: Hamal will fight.”

“We don’t have Denebia on our side anymore,” one councilwoman pointed out. “Denebia washes her hands of any Saiph-related affairs.”

“I don’t need Denebia,” Sho said confidently. “I’ve been hearing reports about unrest since the usurper queen started her reign. I have the Saiphan king right here. He’s loved by his people, missed by them. With him alone, I can buy us time.”

“There are lands in Saiph that are sworn to me,” Jun said. “Some of them are my lands by birthright. Once they learn of my survival, they are on our side.”

“They already know,” Sho said, making Jun face him. “Last night, we’ve received this transmission from Saiph asking for an audience.”

Sho gestured to Aiba, who tapped away on the pad that he held. Soon, a recorded transmission started playing.

Jun had to brace himself on the edges of Sho’s desk as he heard Rina’s voice. Months. It had been months. But she sounded the same, the person Jun had grown up with and had treated as family.

And now he had to fight her.

“Greetings from Saiph and once again, congratulations on winning the war, Your Majesty,” Rina said. “This is a transmission I’m sending upon receiving a report regarding a false rumor that my brother lives. On behalf of Saiph, I’d like to inform you that we’ve exhausted all means in finding him. Thus, the rumor is untrue, and shouldn’t be a cause of worry for you. I am requesting for an audience in your court—queen to emperor—to discuss matters that are most pressing.”

Aiba ended the transmission, and Jun let out a breath.

“You responded,” he said to Sho.

Sho didn’t look at him. “Yes. I denied her request. I told her I’d only speak to the true heir to the Saiphan throne, and now that he lives, her declaration of hostility no longer holds. Do you declare us hostile?”

“No,” Jun said. “I have no wishes to fight you or take what’s yours.”

“But you wear no crown and so they will invade,” Sho said, addressing his council. “And they will attack the colonies first. Raid them as they’ve done to Mesartim.”

“No,” Jun said, and Sho’s attention snapped back to him. He was aware he had the eyes of everybody now. “Yes, she will do that. But not just that. Now that she knows I’m alive, she’ll think she can slip a Saiphan easily into the planet. Perhaps there will be a reconnaissance ship acting as decoy while they have a spy enter the planet. They will use the raids as a distraction.” He walked around Sho’s desk, picking up a pad that had the star map of Hamal’s entire territory and had it projected as a hologram. With a nod from Shun, he continued, “Given the size of the Saiphan army, she can raid five colonies at the same time. Three if those who are sworn to me defect. And she’ll pick those that are far from each other to exhaust your army extensively.”

“The princess would likely target first those colonies which are not very profitable for you to delude you into thinking she’s not taking you seriously,” Shun said, inclining his head in apology for having spoken out of turn, but Sho didn’t seem to mind. “When you launch your army, she will go for the mines. Then perhaps, she’ll set her true plan in motion, which is slipping a spy into your planet.”

“How do you know of this?” Sho asked, one eyebrow quirked.

“The late king once had this for a plan,” Shun said. He’d told Jun before, and Jun had known then that Sho had been telling the truth. “I was privy to it being the Captain of the Prince’s Guard. It will not be strange to me if the princess adapts it—her men now once belonged to the late king’s.”

Sho turned to Ohno. “I want patrols on every colony, every mining satellite, every trade route.” Ohno nodded. To his council: “All handler and trader ships are to be inspected thoroughly and will not be allowed into the planet without proper permit. I want the trade route in Altair Belt to be closed.”

“Closed?” The council seemed to panic at that. “Your Majesty, that is our most profitable trade route. With Mesartim soon returning to us, we need the route open more than ever.”

“There are other routes,” Sho said. “Close the Altair Belt and have it extensively patrolled. Whoever tries to use it will be directed to Vega. The toll increase shouldn’t be a problem if they’re traders.”

“And if they’re miners?” A councilwoman asked. “Your Majesty, the miners rely on the Altair Belt trade route because they cannot pay the toll fee implemented by Vega.”

Sho was looking at the councilwoman, and she seemed to brace herself for what he was about to say. Jun could understand; he’d been on that end more than once. “Send a transmission to the princess of Vega. Tell her the Emperor of Hamal is inviting her to visit Sheratan as a royal guest of his household. If she fancies me still, Vega will not implement their exorbitant fees on our miners.”

The council members looked at each other and nodded one by one. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” the councilwoman from earlier said. “Would you like for me to send the transmission now?”

“Yes, please,” Sho said, smiling and waving a hand in dismissal. “I call for a momentary recess. I want a tabulation of the toll fees sent to my pad in ten minutes.” The council nodded their agreement, and Aiba switched the holo off and closed the channel.

Jun faced Shun and said, “I want you to establish a private channel to Cygni. It’s close to the Vegan trade route, and if there’s anyone who knows how to handle money and matters involving it, it’s your wife.”

Shun smiled. “I’ll send a transmission at once.” He bowed and excused himself.

Sho turned to Jun. “You disagree with my methods.”

Of course he could tell. “If the princess of Vega truly fancies you as you and your sister have implied, you’ll be playing with her feelings,” Jun said. “To secure a trade route so your people can conduct business as usual.”

“You’ve never met her,” Sho said. “She wants me to name her as consort to the emperor so she’ll be secured for the rest of her life. She’s an incredibly talented faker—you saw how she managed to convince my council with three visits. Unfortunately for her, I’ve been dealing with her kind all my life. People have their own agendas when they talk to me, trying to spin their words into something I might like.”

“And you think that’s hers? That’s an assumption, not truth,” Jun said.

“No, I know that’s hers,” Sho said. “You see, she doesn’t like men.”

Jun opened his mouth and closed it again, the words leaving him. Sho gestured to Ohno and Aiba to call for attendants to bring them refreshments and the two excused themselves.

When the doors slid shut once more, Sho said quietly, “I know how someone looks like when they truly want me.”

When Jun turned, all he saw was Sho’s back.

They were finally alone together, and Sho was deliberately shielding himself.

“I suppose they look like your suitor from last night?” Jun asked. Jun hadn’t bothered to ask where that man had hailed from, but he’d been handsome. Someone Jun would’ve likely entertained had it been his suitor when he’d been Crown Prince.

“No,” Sho said, and the doors were sliding open to reveal an attendant. “They look like a king from last night.”

Sho then faced the attendant and said pleasantly, “Have these served to the council as well. I want a luncheon prepared three hours from now, and have it served by then.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the attendant said before excusing herself, and with her departure, Ohno and Aiba returned.

“We have the roster of men available to fight from all over the planet, as well as the ship count available for patrol,” Aiba said, and Jun knew their moment had passed.

“Bring it here,” Sho said.

The recess was over, and the rest of the day passed with them talking of matters befitting kings.

--

The first attack happened in Esdes, a small colony of ore refineries at the edge of Hamal’s star map. It happened after Jun had had a live transmission to his people through the unfiltered, public channels. He’d had Shun behind him as he’d addressed his people, taking his oath before them and promising that he’d stop the war from happening.

Rina had treated it as a provocation on Jun’s part, attacking Hamali territory at once. Shun had received word from half of the Saiphan army that they were on their way to Hamal. Defectors, mostly from the lands Jun had under his name, some from the colonies that remained loyal to him and hadn’t believed his disappearance.

Sho had given him a pad of his own to use, and with it, he monitored the war reports, the expenses, the manpower they had. Sho was almost always in council meetings now, arguing with men and women older than him.

Jun had sent Shun and the rest of his personal guard to Esdes as support. He remained in Sheratan to await the arrival of the Saiphan army, those who had joined his cause. He’d been in constant communication with a sergeant named Muro, one of Shun’s trusted comrades.

His pad pinged with a private transmission, and he didn’t recognize the sender. He was alone in his quarters and he played the message, the first few seconds being nothing but black.

Then she appeared, and Jun thought his heart must have stopped.

“Jun,” Rina said in a prerecorded transmission, her eyes brimming with tears, “you’re really alive.”

Jun couldn’t move. He couldn’t think.

“I’m recording this after your broadcast. The entire planet knows. They are celebrating. Half of them is rioting already, trying to tear the gates down, wanting me to leave now that their true king is back.” She exhaled slowly. “Do not come home. I’m assuming you are in Hamal, in Sheratan. Stay there. If you do, you’ll be safe.”

Jun couldn’t listen to this. But his hands remained frozen on the pad’s sides.

“I know you don’t believe me,” Rina said, flashing a small, sad smile. “Why should you? The last time we saw each other, I told you I killed father and I put you in exile. I had to do that. If I didn’t, she would have killed you.”

Jun didn’t understand. She?

Rina looked over her shoulder and turned back to the recording. “When you receive this, she already knows what I’ve done, that I’ve risked everything for you to get this message. Whatever she’s planning, don’t fall for it. My mother will use whatever means necessary to remain in power.” She looked apologetic now, eyes downcast. “She’s just using me as a front. Now that you’ve returned, she no longer needs me. Do not come back here. I put you in exile because she would have killed you. It was the only way to keep you safe. I knew you’d survive in one way or another.” She smiled. “Perhaps, in another life, you can tell me all about it, like all the times you snuck in my room to tell me how your day went. Until then, brother.”

She lifted a hand to end her transmission but paused, fingers hovering on air awkwardly. “I know you will not believe me, but I didn’t kill father. I couldn’t. She asked me to, but I couldn’t. I loved him as you do. Sadly, I love my mother as well. And that’s where the root of the problem lies, I think.”

The transmission ended, and Jun saw his reflection on the dark screen, looking as he felt. He was lost. His broadcast had happened a week ago. For this message to take this long to reach him, Rina had to send it through a secure, undetectable channel.

Jun knew he shouldn’t believe it. Their plans were in motion, and once the reinforcements arrive, they could begin planning the siege. Sho’s plan was to take the royal palace and bring the war to Saiph, not to Hamal. With Saiph’s forces divided between Jun and Rina, they’d have a headstart if they took their armies to Saiph once the raids have been stopped.

But if Rina’s transmission was true, then that meant she was in grave danger. Jun couldn’t simply abandon her—her mother would turn on her now that things weren’t going according to her plans. Rina had explicitly told him not to come home.

Jun didn’t know what to do. The rational part of him said he should delete the transmission and proceed with their plans like he’d received nothing.

But Rina had been—was his sister, still.

Jun remained in his quarters, unaware how much time had passed. He played the transmission over and over, trying to dissect it, to make sense of it even if he couldn’t. When he closed his eyes, he could see Rina’s face, hear her words. Do not come home, do not come back here, she had said.

“I have no needs at the moment,” he said when he heard the doors slide open. He’d dismissed so many attendants, refusing their offers of food and refreshments. It was already night, and he hadn’t eaten a thing. He had no appetite.

“It’s not an attendant,” Sho said.

Jun tensed and didn’t dare look. He couldn’t deal with this. Combined with what he’d received today, he couldn’t handle it.

“I’ve been told you refused to eat,” Sho said, and Jun could hear him approaching. “The chefs thought it was your palate, so they asked for my permission to make a Saiphan cuisine. But I said no since you’ve eaten Hamali food for months. Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t. Sho was on his side, yes, but he knew what Sho would say. But Jun couldn’t also hide a thing from Sho, and so he deliberately kept looking the other way.

“I—” he tried, voice coming out hoarse from disuse, “I’d like to be alone.”

He felt a hand rest on the back of his chair and he shut his eyes as the chair swiveled around. He knew if he looked, he’d see Sho’s face studying his.

“What’s wrong?” Sho asked again. The airy lilt to his voice was gone, replaced by seriousness. Jun felt a thumb brush his cheekbone. “You’re crying.”

Jun hadn’t even noticed he was doing it. “I know what you’ll say. You’re going to tell me it’s a trap and I’m a fool for listening to it in the first place. You’re going to tell me I’ll end up ruining our plans.”

“What are you talking about?” Sho asked.

“I can’t argue with you as I am now,” Jun admitted. “And I know you don’t care, but I have no one. She’s all I have.” He reached for the pad behind him and handed it to Sho.

Sho took the pad from him and soon, Jun heard the transmission playing. Jun stood and walked to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. He couldn’t bear to hear her voice again. It was in his mind, playing over and over. She’d never ask for help; she was the older one.

He buried his face in his hands, unable to keep himself from crying. He’d held the tears back for so long. He found himself believing Rina despite what she’d done. He’d grown up looking up to her as his protector, and she’d protected him through the end. All this time he’d wanted answers, and now that he’d gotten them, he didn’t know what to do.

He heard Sho approach, and he hated how his voice cracked as he said, “I know what you’re going to say. I know. So please just say it and—”

“Don’t ask me to leave,” Sho said.

Jun breathed out shakily. It was rude; he was Sho’s guest. But he couldn’t do this. “Please.”

“No,” Sho said stubbornly, and Jun felt the mattress dip as Sho sat next to him. “You don’t have to be alone right now.”

He sounded so weak when he said, “There’s no one.”

“I’m here,” Sho said softly.

Jun didn’t know how a laugh escaped from him. It was hollow and sad. “No you’re not. I could be standing next to you and you’d still feel light years away. Since I returned, I could never reach you.”

He felt fingers prying his hand away from his face and he let them, and when he finally looked at Sho, Sho lifted his hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “I’m right here.”

Selfishly, Jun found himself saying, “Tell me you missed me. Even if it’s not true. Even if you’re just going to indulge me.”

“At night, I’d lie awake, unable to find rest, only to realize I was waiting for you to bring a book. At times, I’d look to my side and wonder why you’re not there.” Sho held his hand in his own, keeping them clasped between them. “I miss you. That’s the truth.”

“I can’t do this,” Jun said, a quiet, raw admission. “I can’t.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Sho said. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Jun didn’t look at him. “You think it’s a trap.”

Sho remained silent.

“You think I shouldn’t listen to it,” Jun said.

“That’s not what I think,” Sho said. “I’m finding it odd that she told you not to go back. Had I been in her place, I’d welcome you with open arms. It would be easier to kill you if you were in Saiph. But she told you not to return.”

Jun laced their fingers together, and he was glad for the warmth. “She’s the only family I have left. If that transmission is true, then she’s in danger. I can’t lose her.”

“I’m not going to allow you to leave,” Sho said. “You can’t leave Sheratan. You’re safe here.”

“And I’m not going to ask you to risk your plans for me,” Jun said. “But I’ve already lost my father. She’s the only one I’ve got now.”

“What are you planning to do?” Sho asked.

“I don’t know,” Jun said honestly. “I...I want to help her. But I don’t know how. And yet, I’m not asking you to help me. I know it’s too great of a risk for you.”

Sho smiled, a small quirk of the angle of his lips. “You should know by now that I can’t leave you. I already risked my empire for you.”

“And that’s already too much,” Jun said. “I’m not asking for anything more. But if I find a way to help her, save her...don’t stop me. It will be dangerous, whatever it is.”

“If you know it’ll be dangerous, how can you ask that of me?” Sho squeezed his hand. “I’ve done so much to keep you safe. And like always, you find a way to ruin that.”

Jun didn’t understand. He frowned, looking at Sho. “What?”

“You asked me once why I didn’t put the blame on you when they tried to have me assassinated. Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“That time, I already had my suspicions regarding who you were. If I put you forth as the mastermind, you were right: no one would’ve questioned it. But at the same time, you’d be put to trial, and sooner or later, my mother would’ve found out who you were.” Sho’s eyes were on the floor. “With someone like Inamine still in the council, you’d be executed. He’d bask in the glory for having orchestrated it—for killing the Saiphan prince. That’s why I told you to go.”

Jun didn’t know what to say. He could only listen.

“When I sent you to Mesartim and told you that I had hoped you’d run away, that was the truth,” Sho said. “If you did that, you’d be far away from all this. No one would know you’re alive except me and your personal guard, and they’re sworn to protect you. That was my reassurance. I knew they’d give their lives for you, so I thought I could handle an impending war because at the back of my mind, I know you were somewhere safe.”

“I never asked for you to protect me,” Jun said.

“The only thing you asked me for was your freedom,” Sho said. “And I gave it you in hopes you’d use it to live a life that didn’t have anything to do with positions of power. Instead here you are, fighting for a crown, for your people. I should’ve known, really. But I hoped still.”

“You knew I can never abandon them,” Jun told him. “You’re the same towards your own people. You’d give me up before them, and I understand. That’s how it is for men like us.”

“I thought I already gave you up when I watched you leave,” Sho said. “But as it turns out, I didn’t. Because when you came back, a part of me was glad.” Their eyes met, and Sho said, “Don’t ask me to do that. Don’t ever ask me to choose.”

“I won’t,” Jun promised. “But you should know that given the same choices, if I could, I’d—”

“I know,” Sho said, his other hand on Jun’s lips to prevent him to speak. “Don’t say it. I don’t have to hear it to believe it.”

Sho’s hand fell away, and Jun said, “Don’t stop me. I know it’s stupid. I know it might be a trap. But I will help her.”

“You might not come back this time,” Sho said.

It was Jun’s turn to lift Sho’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I will. I always find a way to return. This time won’t be different.”

They sat closer to one another now, and when Jun lifted his head, all he could see was Sho’s face. The emotions on it, the hesitation in his eyes, the underlying fear.

This was the Sho he knew. That one that had been his.

“Promise me,” Sho whispered between them.

For the second time, Jun said, “I promise I will go back to you.”

He was in Sho’s space, and they were a breath away. He wanted—

A knock on the doors followed by the sounds of it swooshing open, and they had to separate. And yet, Sho didn’t let go of his hand.

“Yes?” Sho said to an attendant, who jolted in surprise upon the sight of him.

She bowed hastily. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I was sent by the chefs to inquire about dinner.”

“Whose dinner?” Sho asked conversationally. It made Jun smile.

“His Majesty’s,” the attendant said, lifting her head a little to nod at Jun. “And yours as well, Your Majesty. Will you be dining in the hall?”

“No,” Sho said. “Bring the food and refreshments here. The Saiphan king and I have matters to attend to. When we’re done, we’ll leave the plates and trays in the hall.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty. Please excuse me.”

The attendant left as quickly as she came, and Jun gave Sho a look.

“You think that was amusing,” he said.

“Did you see her face? She certainly didn’t expect to find me here,” Sho said, smiling. “I wonder what kind of gossip that will make.”

Jun couldn’t help his face from flushing. “Lucida Ventris was one thing, but your mother is here. What will she say?”

“Exactly what she said to me after she met you,” Sho told him. “I heard you’ve met.”

“We have,” Jun said. “What did she say?”

“That she took one look at you and she knew why,” Sho said, scowling. Jun laughed. “Mothers, really. They think they know everything.”

Jun decided to be bolder, cupping Sho’s face in one hand and turning it towards him. “Matters to attend to?”

“I was talking about war affairs,” Sho said. “You do know our men are trying to take back Esdes as we sit here?”

“I know that,” Jun said. “Is that all?”

“For now,” Sho said. “There will be time for this.” He glanced briefly between them before he looked at Jun once more. “Whatever this is that’s happening between us.”

Jun ran his thumb over Sho’s plump lips, cherishing their warmth. “All right,” he said, pulling away. “All right.”

“I’d kiss you,” Sho said suddenly, surprising Jun, “but the food will be here any moment.”

Jun shuffled closer to him, and he saw Sho’s eyes fixed on his mouth. “And if I ask?”

“Don’t,” Sho said.

“Kiss me,” Jun said. “You know it’s me now. You know who I am now, who I truly am. If you want me still, kiss me.”

Sho’s fingers returned to his lips, tracing the contour of them. “A part of me always knew who you were. The other part chose to believe otherwise because I was terrified. We weren’t supposed to meet, let alone—”

“Sleep together?” Jun supplied.

“How eloquent,” Sho said with a slight laugh. “I was going to say ‘work together and eventually become intimate’, but I suppose your rather crude phrasing works too.” His nail scraped the small dot on Jun’s chin before he let go. “You’re awfully tempting.”

Sho stood but Jun caught his arm, and he used it as leverage to pull himself up. They were on their feet now, standing too close to be deemed respectable, but Jun didn’t care.

“I won’t force you,” Jun said. “I will never.”

“I know,” Sho said. “I’m here on my own free will.”

Jun still had his hand clasped around Sho’s forearm, and Sho didn’t look like he’d pull away any moment now. “I wanted you then,” he admitted. “And I want you now just as much. That never changed. I...don’t think it will.”

Sho had to stand on his toes to reach the height, but soon, Jun felt him dropping a kiss to each of his eyelids, where his tears from earlier had caught.

“If you ask,” Sho whispered between them, “I’ll stay.”

“Stay,” Jun said helplessly. “Stay the night. We don’t have to do anything. I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You won’t be,” Sho said, and Jun finally let him go when they heard the doors sliding open once more.

--

They talked the entire night. Of war, of consequences, of their duties and responsibilities, of the transmission. Jun began planning, consulting Sho about it and listening to what he had to say.

“You can’t go to Saiph,” was what Sho told him after he’d implied it. “Your sister already said so. Assuming what she says is true—”

“I believe it is,” Jun said.

Sho ignored him. “—then not only she is in danger but you are as well. You’re my responsibility as long as the treaty holds, and as Emperor of Hamal, I’m forbidding you to use your authority to command my people so you can return to your planet.”

Just to annoy him, Jun asked, “And if I command my people instead?”

“You will never be granted clearance to leave the spacedock so don’t waste your time,” Sho said. “Have you tried tracing the transmission to its channel source? I keep wondering how it got past our communication buffers.”

“It’s beyond my capability,” Jun admitted. “All I know is that it’s a private channel, unfiltered and undetectable.”

“I will need more details than that,” Sho said. “Run the diagnostics. We can have Daigo-kun look at it. Overhearing conversations is part of his specialty.”

Jun got to work with a small laugh escaping from him. “He calls it that?”

“No, I do,” Sho said. “I prefer it than eavesdropping. It’s less intentional.”

Jun let his pad collate the data needed, swiveling on his chair to look at Sho, who leaned against the desk. They both look like they needed sleep, but Sho didn’t yawn even once.

“You don’t think I should go by myself,” Jun said. “If she needs a rescue, you want me to send somebody else. Shun, perhaps.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out,” Sho said. In another time, Jun would’ve rolled his eyes. “Here’s what I propose: once Daigo-kun figures out how you got that transmission, we’ll send a similar message using the same channel, encrypted and untraceable so they can’t locate where you are if it’s a trap.”

That part, Jun had already deduced. “You want me to tell her the truth.”

“That you’ll help her? Yes,” Sho admitted. “If it’s a trap, she’ll think you’re falling for it. If it isn’t, then we’ll have more information and can react accordingly. You have the propensity for being rash once you got carried away by your emotions. I’m trying to prevent that from happening.”

Jun said nothing, instead only looked at Sho. Was this how it felt like, to have someone by his side?

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this?” Jun asked after a moment.

“I have no one else to tell,” Sho said, looking at him.

“You’re saying we should do nothing at the moment,” Jun told him.

“I’m saying we wait it out. I understand how you feel, but your sister is still the one on the throne. Her mother—if what your sister claims is true—cannot do away with her just yet. Not when she still has the power, is stil the face of the planet. As long as she has the crown, she’s safe.”

“I shouldn’t have declared myself,” Jun said. “I shouldn’t have told everyone in that broadcast.”

“No,” Sho said immediately, an edge to his voice. “Look at me.”

Jun did, and he followed Sho with his eyes as Sho crouched before him, their gazes level with one another.

“You didn’t know,” Sho said. “You couldn’t have known. This isn’t something you could have prevented. Stop blaming yourself.”

“But if I didn’t show up, she’d still be safe,” Jun said, guilt clawing at him. “No matter what you say, this is still on me. If something happens to her, it’ll be my fault.”

“No,” Sho said, shaking his head. “Listen to me.” He cupped Jun’s jaw and held him in place. “You had no idea of how cruel her mother could be. You couldn’t have known. You had no idea your sister would be pushed to do something like this. You couldn’t have saved her. She never asked for any saving.”

“Because she’s always the one protecting me,” Jun said. “Since we were children, that was what she was. When she went away, I thought I had to be strong enough since she was no longer around.” He looked at his feet. “In the end, I still needed the protection.”

“Because you keep doing stupid things,” Sho said admonishingly. Jun glared at him. “Oh please. You know you do. But that still doesn’t justify you blaming yourself. You couldn’t have foreseen this.”

Jun studied Sho’s face, at the way he looked so convinced and certain. It took him a moment, but then: “You don’t really think it’s a trap.”

Sho withdrew and stood, but it was too late—Jun knew he’d been right.

“What are you not telling me?” Jun asked.

Sho exhaled, shoulders slumping. He looked weary. “You asked nearly a month ago what happened to my aunt.”

Jun nodded.

“She was working with Inamine, planting seeds in the council to eventually overthrow my mother through the civil war. Inamine was tasked to dispose of me in Lucida Ventris, but thanks to you, that plan never came to fruition.”

“What happened to her?”

“She had a trial the day after I was crowned. There, she was found guilty of treason by the council after they did a thorough search in her quarters and found evidences of the poison she used on me and my mother. But that wasn’t all that they found.”

Sho didn’t speak, and it took Jun a few beats, but when it hit him, he felt hollow.

“Tell me it’s not Saiphan currency,” he begged in a small voice.

Sho didn’t utter a word, and Jun took it for his answer.

“How much?” Jun asked.

“Enough to fund a war,” Sho said. “I didn’t tell you because my mother suspected you the moment you had sent that transmission to Iseya-kun. It took me an entire night to convince her to think otherwise, not too different from a night like this.”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” Jun said. “All my assets are gone, likely confiscated the moment my disappearance was made public.”

“I know,” Sho said. “That’s why I was so sure it wasn’t you. Why else would you have saved my life then, if you had been the mastermind?” Sho smiled. “You’re often unpredictable, but not that unpredictable.”

“You think Rina’s mother is behind it,” Jun said.

“Yes. I believe her plan, had it worked, was to put my aunt in the throne so she could rule Hamal through her. It was an indirect conquest. On paper, Hamal would be an independent planet, perhaps an ally of Saiph when they sorted out their differences, but in reality, my aunt would have to play according to the rules. That’s why I don’t fully believe it’s a trap. It could be—and I’m not disregarding that possibility—but I find it unlikely. More so since your sister told you not to go back.”

It was too much for one day. Jun felt exhausted and helpless. He’d been ignorant all this time, oblivious to how jealousy could take root.

“She was queen before I came along,” Jun said.

He saw Sho frown. “Your sister?”

“Her mother,” Jun explained. “My father had Rina with her, but it had been a difficult pregnancy. They tried to have more children but ended up losing them all during infancy. Then my father married my mother, and I was born then.” Jun shut his eyes at the memory. “My mother was hailed by the people as their queen upon my birth. The records say she’s still the king’s mistress, but after Rina abdicated, she became the queen.”

“And you became the heir,” Sho said. He didn’t seem to like what he was about to say next. “You’re the only one left.”

Jun froze, and he feared the line of Sho’s thought. Sho was clever, and he’d undoubtedly make the same conclusion.

He heard Sho exhale. “Jun.”

“I never realized it until I got the transmission,” Jun admitted, heat prickling at the corner of his eyes once more. “My mother died when I hit thirty. It was a rare disease with a swift progression, the physicians said. But I’m starting to think that’s not it at all.” He could feel Sho looking at him. “Then I lost my father. I can’t lose Rina too. She’s all I have left.”

Sho stood right in front of him, and Jun felt fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him forward. He allowed the tears to fall when he had his forehead pressed against Sho’s trunk, basking in the comfort and warmth. Sho held him close and didn’t move nor speak.

“I never got to mourn them,” Jun said. “Both of them. When my mother passed away, I thought I had to look strong since all eyes in my planet would be on me. And when my father died, it all happened too fast. I—”

“Take what you need,” Sho said, fingers stroking his scalp soothingly. “I’m sorry you had to lose your family like this. Nobody deserves that. But I can’t offer anything despite being the emperor of this planet. This...this is all I can give. And I don’t know if it’s enough.”

Jun linked his arms around Sho’s waist, holding him close, clinging to whatever Sho was giving him. There’d never be another time.

“I’m making a mess out of your tunic,” Jun said, pulling back a bit to wipe at his eyes.

“It’s just fabric,” Sho said. “It’s all right. If you want me to pretend this didn’t happen, I can close my eyes.”

“No,” Jun said. “This isn’t something I’d want to forget. I want to remember this. It’s the only time I’m allowing myself to give in.”

“You love too much,” Sho told him. “You trust too much.”

“That’s my flaw,” Jun acknowledged.

“No, it isn’t,” Sho said, moving back a little to cup his face in his hands, have him look at Sho’s eyes once more. “You’re not to blame for anything that’s happened to you. Never think that.”

Jun saw the fierceness in Sho’s gaze and understood. Sho would know. He’d been fighting his entire life, surviving one horrific attempt on his life after another. Had Sho had anyone who’d told him the same things he was telling Jun? It was unlikely.

Jun’s heart broke for him. Sho had been fighting alone for years, and yet Sho had never allowed Jun to feel the same. Sho had never made him feel he was alone, that he had no one. Sho had never abandoned him.

Jun rose to his feet and pulled Sho close, holding him there. “You love too much,” he said. He felt Sho stand still in his arms. “You do. You’re just better at hiding it compared to me, but I see it. I see you. We’re not really that different.” His arms wrapped tighter for a moment. “I guess that’s why we ended up...like this.”

“Like what?” Sho asked.

“Inevitable,” Jun said. “Tell me I won’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” Sho said. His hands came up, clinging to Jun’s shoulders.

It was impossible. One way or another, Jun would have to make a choice. And he’d choose his kingdom—they both knew it. But if he could have both…

He knew he was selfish. But he couldn’t help himself, always wanting more.

For a moment, they held each other. Sho felt real—was real. He was here right now with Jun, and Jun allowed himself to believe Sho’s words.

“I’m scared,” he admitted quietly. “Of so many things. I’m afraid I’ll be too late to help Rina, in the same way I was unable to help my mother and father. I’d do anything to prevent that from happening again, but I’m scared it won’t be enough.”

“I will fight with you if that’s what it’ll take,” Sho said, “in the same way you fought with me. If you think I’ll leave you now or I’ll start anytime soon, you’re sorely mistaken.”

We could stay like this, Jun thought indulgently, until we both don’t want to anymore.

“We still have the rest of the night,” Jun said.

He heard Sho laugh. “If you think that’s going to make me fall to your bed, you overestimate yourself.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Jun said, reddening. “Stop laughing.”

“You’re suggesting we sleep, yes?” He heard more than saw Sho smile. “Just sleep.”

“Just sleep,” Jun echoed.

“All right,” Sho said, letting him go.

“Won’t they look for you?” Jun asked belatedly, when he was watching Sho move towards the bed.

“They will,” Sho said. “I’m assuming the attendant earlier already told everyone where the Emperor of Hamal decided to stay the night.”

“You love the attention,” Jun concluded.

“I’ve had the attention all my life,” Sho said. “I’m used to it.” He got under the covers and tapped the space next to him. “Well? You know I don’t like waiting.”

Jun smiled and stalked towards the bed, climbing over it and settling on his side so he could look at Sho. It had been a while since they’d shared a bed, and Jun wanted to cherish the proximity.

“I know you’ll have something smart to say when I ask how you feel about being the center of attention,” Jun said.

“I feel like I can do better,” Sho said. “Put it this way: I stay celibate, they talk. I don’t, they still talk.” Sho turned to his side and looked at him. “I’m not here for their approval. Though, I hardly think there’s anyone who won’t approve of a king. You should have heard how my people fawned over you when they saw you the first time. You’d think they were never raised to think of you as the enemy.”

Jun could feel his face heating up. “Lights at five percent,” he said, hoping to conceal it.

Sho laughed. “Please, you know how you look like. I’m hardly the first person to compliment you.”

“Just one of the few who matter,” Jun whispered.

“Really?” Sho smiled. “I can imagine how you charmed all those suitors you had. You must have been very popular. When this war is over, you’ll be even more so.”

“I won’t entertain them,” Jun said.

“Don’t be absurd. You have to secure your throne once it becomes yours once more.”

“There are other ways,” Jun said stubbornly. “When this war is over, would you—”

He paused, uncertain. He had many things he wanted to ask and had no idea where to start.

“Would I what?” Sho asked curiously.

Jun pursed his lips. “For starters, would you like to see Saiph? With me? The color of our seas is different—it’s blue, not green. Our skies are almost often blue too, except when there are storms. The royal palace isn’t like the one you have here; it’s not on a cliff. It floats with a citadel and can only be reached by spacecrafts or any ferry. I kept a garden there where I tended to whatever caught my fancy. I have this small tree that only blooms in season, and I think it bears the same flower as the one you use as your crest. I—I’d love for you see that, even once.”

For a moment, Sho didn’t speak. He simply looked at Jun in the darkness, his expression hidden in shadows and mostly unreadable. The silence ate at Jun, adding to his nervousness. He almost took his words back, but then:

“Yes,” Sho said, smiling and making Jun’s heart swell. “Yes, I’d like that.”

--

Shun and Aiba returned victorious: Esdes remained part of Hamal, and with the rest of the Saiphan army arriving at Sheratan, they had enough forces to conduct a siege.

Jun studied all the data they had on hand, and together with Shun, they made plans on how to take the palace. It was the only way they’d get in. They couldn’t face the royal army at the planet’s gates, but if they could take the palace, they’d win.

They laid out the plans to Sho, who listened without interrupting. Ohno and Aiba were with him, and they saved all the questions when Jun finished speaking.

“How will we get into the planet without using the gates?” Ohno asked.

“In the same way I arrived here,” Jun said. It was no secret to everyone present. “With half of the Saiphan army defecting, they need more men. They have to be receiving reinforcements at present, perhaps from colonies under Saiph’s protection.”

“I can sneak in,” Shun said. “I know the palace. I grew up in it. There are passageways unbeknownst to servants and I know how to navigate them. I just need to be able to slip undetected into the planet.”

“By now, you two,” Sho said, pointing to Jun and Shun, “are the most wanted men in Saiph. You can’t hope to slip into the planet without anyone noticing. Even if we send our forces to the gates to serve as a distraction, the palace will surely be heavily guarded. I have no doubt regarding your capabilities, but as long as those gates surrounding your planet stand, it will not work.”

“Then we disable the gates,” Jun said. “It can be done from the inside.”

Sho gave him a look. “No one here has the ability to slip into Saiph undetected. I have a former spy as part of my men, yes, but even he hasn’t stepped foot on that planet.” He turned to Shun. “How did you escape the last time you were there?”

“I picked the lock,” Shun said.

“You’re saying you can pull the same trick with the gates?” Sho asked.

“Yes,” Shun said. “I know those gates. My father was the former captain of the king’s guard. He was there when those gates were built and he taught me how to reinforce them as the technology advanced.”

“So you can also dismantle the defensive maneuvers as long as you’re inside,” Sho said. He faced Ohno. “Is there no other way we can slip this man into that planet?”

“It’s too risky,” Ohno said. “They know their faces. If we send somebody else, they can enter the planet, yes, but they lack the knowledge to disable those gates.”

“We can always take the war here instead of going there,” Sho said.

“And lose our advantage?” Jun asked. “Right now, they’re struggling to gather soldiers for their army. This is the right time. We’ll never have another chance if we sit here and linger.”

“Then tell me: will you risk your captain, knowing very well that he might die if he is discovered?” Sho asked, staring at him.

Jun fell silent. He couldn’t. Ohno had been right: it was too much of a risk. But there’d never be another time like this. If they wait, the Saiphan army would eventually have enough forces to invade Hamal.

“I won’t be discovered,” Shun said. They all turned to him and he shrugged. “Give me your best pilot.”

Sho let out a bark of laughter. “My best pilot is your king.” To Jun: “And before you can even consider it: no. You can’t act convincingly. The moment they ask for your permit, you’ll be discovered.”

Jun felt a bit insulted. He’d lasted months in Sho’s camp and none of Sho’s men had discovered who he truly was. But Sho gave him this look that clearly said: Don’t even think of saying it, and Jun averted his eyes.

Then he remembered.

“There is one other pilot who can pretend to be a handler and can fly a ship as good as I can,” Jun said.

Ohno hummed, and Jun caught Aiba smiling.

“You sent him home,” Sho said.

“I didn’t,” Jun said. “You did. But Alnitak is still under my planet’s protection, and I think he will answer to his king.”

Sho looked thoughtful, his forefinger resting on his lips. It was a little distracting for Jun. “You think you can convince him to return to where the war is? He just escaped it.”

Sho’s fingertip pressed lightly on his bottom lip.

“Jun,” Sho said, lowering his hand.

“I—” Jun said, clearing his throat. He reached for his pad and began looking for a private channel. “I think I can.”

“You seem very confident,” Sho said. “What do you have to offer him? He has his freedom now; he can’t possibly want anything else.”

Jun smiled, waiting for his channel to connect so he could set things up. “I’ve been practicing.” He could see Sho’s confusion, with the way Sho’s eyes were narrowed. “I think he’ll come when I ask. After all, I owe him a card game.”

--

“What happened to the princeling this time?” was Nino’s welcome for them as soon as Jun’s transmission had patched through. Jun enabled a holo so everyone could see Nino’s face.

“He’s emperor now,” Jun said. “Surely you know that?”

“Is he there?” Nino looked behind Jun, and Jun heard a shuffle of movement. “Of course he is. What do I call you now that princeling is no longer applicable?”

“Emperor,” Sho said flatly.

Nino laughed. “Cute.” Then to Jun: “What do you need?”

He hadn’t changed. His way of communicating was still uniquely him, and Jun found himself smiling. “Your help.”

“You mean my skills,” Nino corrected knowingly. “I heard you’re king.”

Jun was hoping that wouldn’t come up, but Nino wouldn’t be Nino if he hadn’t kept himself updated despite being far from the center of the fray. “I’m trying to be.”

“If you’re king, that means I’m under the protection of your crown,” Nino said. “I’m your subject.”

“That’s how it is, yes,” Jun agreed.

“Are you going to command me? You have every right.”

Jun gave it thought and it didn’t sit right with him. “I know you’re happy where you are. I can see it on your face. If you say yes, I’ll be taking you away from what makes you happy. If you agree to help me, I’ll be taking you back to war, to fight with us once more. And I have nothing to offer you except your freedom if we are victorious.”

Nino tilted his head to the side. “You’re not very good at commanding people.”

“No, I’m not,” Jun admitted. “I don’t like using force.”

“You’re not ordering me to return,” Nino said.

Jun shook his head.

“But you need me for something because otherwise you wouldn’t have risked this transmission,” Nino said.

“Yes.”

Nino looked over his shoulder, giving them the side of his face. “I have two nieces,” he said suddenly, “and one nephew. The nephew calls me uncle. The other two just call me Kazunari. My sister’s daughters through and through, I guess.” He faced Jun once more. “I already ran out of stories to tell them and still, they ask for more.”

Jun couldn’t help smiling.

“Is Ohno there?” Nino asked suddenly, and Ohno stepped into view. “I don’t have a ship.”

“We gave you one,” Ohno said, frowning. “It was our fastest, too.”

“And I gave it to my sister as a gift for all those years I missed her birthday,” Nino said. “Were you expecting me to return it?”

“I hoped,” Ohno said, sighing. He looked at Sho and said, “Permission to pick him up from Alnitak, Your Majesty.”

“Granted,” Sho said immediately.

Nino smiled. “I told lots of stories about your metal arm to these kids and they don’t believe me. I guess I just have to show them.”

“I’m not your mascot,” Ohno said, but he didn’t seem angry.

“No, you’re officially my chauffeur,” Nino said pleasantly. He looked at Jun once more. “Expect me in a week, Your Majesty. If I’m delayed, blame the captain.”

“Thank you,” Jun said sincerely.

“Save it when I’m there. I hope you’ve gotten better at cards.”

Jun grinned. “I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

Nino shot him a salute and ended the transmission, and Jun closed the channel before turning to look at Sho.

“We can get in,” Jun said. “We just have to explain everything to Nino and I think he can easily improvise if the situation warranted it.”

“Very well. Ninomiya and your captain to disable the gates,” Sho said with a nod. “Ohno, Aiba, and the rest of us on the front lines. In two or three weeks from now, we take our troops to Saiph and put that palace under siege.”

“And if they ask to parley?” Aiba asked.

“We hear them out,” Sho said, and Jun just nodded. “But they don’t have anything we want, and so we stick to the plan.”

There was a collective noise of affirmation from everyone present, and Sho stood, looking at Aiba. “Begin preparations. As soon as Ninomiya arrives, we put the plan in motion. I want all the men to be ready.”

Aiba nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

To Shun, Jun said, “Have the men train. Ohno had these drills he implemented back in the outskirts and they were effective. Ask him about it. I think it’s time to have our men interact with who’s going to fight on their side—the Hamali.”

“You want a cultural exchange to happen?” Shun asked.

“I think it’s time,” Jun said. “We start with the training.” He faced Sho, who was watching them. “Will you let your men spar with mine should it be necessary?”

“Can your men put up a fight?” Sho asked challengingly. “We have Keiko. And Kiko.”

“We’ll see,” Jun said. “Is that a yes?”

“Why not? It might be simultaneously entertaining and productive,” Sho said. He nodded at Shun. “If any Hamali asks, tell them their emperor has agreed to it.”

“As you wish,” Shun said, bowing to them both.

Jun dismissed him, and in moments, he and Sho were alone.

“You didn’t tell them about Rina’s transmission,” Jun said after a moment.

“No,” Sho said. “Have you decided how you’re going to help her?”

“I was hoping it’ll be through Nino and Shun when they manage to enter the planet,” Jun said. “Once the gates are opened and its defenses are disabled, in the ensuing chaos, they can try to find her and bring her into their ship before going back to our side.”

“You will risk informing your sister of our plan,” Sho said.

“I have to,” Jun said. “You don’t agree.”

“I’m being cautious,” Sho said. “If this is a trap, we have no way to open those gates and will be slaughtered without so much a glimpse at your planet.”

“What would you have me do? I can’t abandon her.” Jun sat, suddenly weary. He sighed in exhaustion. “I don’t know what’s happening. She could already be suffering in the hands of her mother for all I know.”

“But if she’s truly your sister, she’ll hold on,” Sho said. “You survived in my camp.”

“Are you saying it runs in the blood? You don’t know that. I only made it in your camp because I knew I had to if I wanted to return to my planet.”

“I’m saying she sent you in the hands of someone who was very likely to kill you and she believed you’d find a way to prevent that from happening. She knew what you would do. Now tell me, what would your sister do?”

Jun considered it. “She’d buy herself time.”

“The reinforcements,” Sho said. “Our ongoing patrols have already spotted handler ships appearing in the trade routes leading to Saiph. But we both know she doesn’t have a lot of time left.”

“And she knows that as well,” Jun said. “If her mother discovers what she’s done, I don’t know what might happen. Her mother never took a liking to me and Rina made sure she wasn’t around when we would play together. I don’t know how her mother thinks.”

“But you know how she might act,” Sho said.

Jun shut his eyes. “I don’t want it to come to that. Rina is still her daughter. I don’t think she’ll harm her own child.”

“That’s not what you think, that’s what you want to believe,” Sho said. “Expect the worst. They’re on the losing side of the war. What do you think she’ll do?”

“Be desperate,” Jun said after a moment.

“If they’re getting reinforcements, I think they’re desperate already,” Sho said. “I’ve been there. I know how that feels. Do you think she’s safe at the moment?”

“I would know if she isn’t,” Jun said. “She’d have found a way to inform me immediately.”

“Then we do nothing,” Sho said.

“I can’t just sit here and wait for something to happen to her,” Jun snapped.

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, that’s what you’re implying.” Jun could feel the anger slowly rising in him. “She’s still my sister, my family. She’s all I’ve got.”

“I know. What would you give, then? If it meant keeping your sister safe?”

“Anything,” Jun answered immediately. “You would do the same if you were in my position.”

Jun had expected a hard truth in the form of a cruel rebuff, but Sho didn’t refute him, only watched him. Jun knew he couldn’t hide any of his emotions well, and what he had to be feeling at present had to be obvious to Sho.

“It will not come to that,” Sho said softly, turning his back to Jun.

“Is that what you think? Or is that what you want me to believe in?” Jun asked.

Sho stood very still, his eyes fixed on a part of the wall.

“No,” Sho said after Jun had begun to think he wouldn’t reply. “It’s what I hope for.”

--

For a week, Jun supervised the training of his men. He remained in the palace grounds, watching the drills, the sparring sessions. He watched as his men gradually grew to respect the Hamali after each spar, how they slowly grew comfortable with dining with one another. It would be a long time before they’d be able to see past their differences, but it was a start.

Nino’s arrival in Hamal happened on a rainy night, and after explaining the plan to him in detail, he agreed to join Jun’s cause provided Jun had a reward for him.

“I don’t have any more assets to my name,” Jun said, “but if you help me win my crown, whatever amount you want will be yours.”

“I’m not talking about money,” Nino said. They were in the corner of the banquet hall, a final feast prepared in Hamal before they went to war the following morning. Nino had made sure they were hidden behind a pillar. “I can steal that anytime. Not that I have to; I think I like the idea of retirement from the outer rim after this.”

“I have nothing else to give you,” Jun said. “There are no other spoils of war you can possibly want.”

“There is something I want that only you can give to me,” Nino said. “Full pardon.”

Jun stilled, studying Nino’s rather youthful face. He seemed serious with what he was asking for.

“While the princeling did give me my freedom, I’m still a wanted man. According to Saiphan laws, only the Saiphan king can revoke the warrant his military issued. I want full pardon in exchange for my services.”

“That can be done,” Jun said, “but what’s my reassurance you won’t fall into the same lifestyle again? You left Alnitak to search for something you couldn’t find in the planet. What’s my guarantee you won’t use the pardon to rekindle your old ways?”

“The fact that there’s someone waiting for me in Alnitak,” Nino said. “I had enough of the galaxy. I went home and left again as per your request. I ask to be allowed to remain in my home planet permanently.”

“If this alliance between Saiph and Hamal holds even after the war, Saiphan laws will be bound to Hamal and vice versa. If I give you your pardon, you will also no longer be a criminal under Hamali law.” Jun let out a breath. “Full pardon in exchange for your services. You will only have it when I’m king.”

Nino smiled, extending his hand. Jun shook it. “Then I’ll make sure your captain can get in and disable those gates.” He excused himself with a bow, and Jun watched him go.

He found himself leaning against the pillar, thinking about all the promises he’d made since he’d declared himself King of Saiph. Nino’s full pardon was the least of them. To others, he’d promised promotion, wealth, honor—things he could only attain provided he won the throne. Their plan wasn’t foolproof; they could be leading their armies to an ambush.

Jun glanced to his side and saw the celebrations ongoing with such liveliness that one would think these weren’t men heading to war the following morning. With the Hamali rum becoming familiar to his men, he saw them becoming more comfortable with letting go of their inhibitions. Conversations accompanied by laughter were everywhere.

For a moment, Jun allowed himself to imagine what it’d be like to have something like this as an everyday scenario—Saiphans and Hamali eating, drinking, and laughing together. It was the kind of harmony his father had believed to be impossible. Now that Jun thought about it, perhaps his father hadn’t been to this part of the Hamali palace. He was in a place his father hadn’t set foot on, had done things his father had never accomplished despite his wisdom.

He hadn’t thought that would be possible. He’d been content to think of his father as his role model, to be the kind of king he’d been, but his stay here had changed that perspective and now he wished to be someone better. The feud with Hamal couldn’t be settled by forcing their people to submission. He had been wrong to believe that.

His people and Sho’s believed that they all had descended from one common ancestor. Perhaps that was true, in the way Jun could gradually feel the acceptance, the growing respect. In his heart, he hoped it could usher a brighter beginning for generations to come.

“Any particular reason why the Saiphan king is lurking behind a pillar like a common page?” Sho asked.

Jun turned, and found Sho leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He had to be there for some time; his posture was too relaxed. He appeared to have been drinking—his cheeks were a bit flushed.

“I was thinking,” Jun said.

“In my experience, that is usually not a very good sign,” Sho said. “Thinking about the war?”

“No, after,” Jun clarified. “The future. My men are more comfortable with yours after the drills and the spars.”

“Yes, Keiko seemed rather intent on pulverizing them one-by-one for the past few days,” Sho said. “But I suppose that had some merits. Look at them now, laughing with their arms around each other’s shoulders. You’d think their planets weren’t enemies for centuries.”

“My father never imagined that something like this could happen,” Jun said, turning back to the hall. “That Saiphans and Hamalis can coexist without prejudice and hatred. He thought that was wishful thinking.”

“Then you proved him wrong,” Sho said.

“We did,” Jun said. “I didn’t do this alone.”

He heard movement and felt a hand slip into his. His breath caught in his throat as he faced Sho.

“Come with me,” Sho said, pulling him to the shadows. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

Jun smiled and let himself be led. They walked towards a wall, and Sho must’ve done something because soon, a portion of the wall disappeared to reveal a passageway. It was dark, but when the door behind them slid shut, the tunnel became illuminated.

“Is this wise? Showing me the secret passageways of your palace?” Jun asked as they walked together.

“You can return the favor when we get to your planet,” Sho said. His grip on Jun’s hand loosened, but Jun tugged him back.

“It’s the last night,” was all Jun said. He didn’t know what could happen tomorrow, but he knew he had to make the most of whatever time they had left.

Sho didn’t say anything and resumed walking, only stopping when they reached a corner. Sho took a left, pulling Jun with him, and Jun started to wonder where they were going.

“Did you do this often when you were a kid?” he asked.

“What, leaving a banquet with the king of another planet? Be specific.”

Jun snorted. “I meant sneaking into your palace around at night.”

He could hear Sho smile. “Yes. It was me who taught my siblings about these passageways. I would sneak them out of their rooms and take them to the observatory when it was past midnight, because by then the moon was fully out and the stars looked beautiful. You’re going to ask who taught me about these passageways.”

Of course he knew. “Yes. Will you tell me?”

“My father,” Sho said. To Jun’s knowledge, Sho’s father had long passed away. “You see, I was mocked for my health. And often, I wished to be alone and had to devise ways to get to places without being seen. At one point, I grew tired of all the running and hiding from the sons and daughters of nobles who ridiculed and bullied me. I went to my father and asked him to make me invisible when I was three. He took me here.”

“I’m sorry,” Jun said, truly meaning it.

Sho seemed surprised. “What for?”

“Perhaps I made you remember something you’d rather not,” Jun said.

“It’s in the past,” Sho said dismissively. “If anything, the petty insults of children made me wish to survive longer than they expected. They were the same claimants I’ve defeated at Lucida Ventris. This is what their mockery has achieved.”

Jun thought Sho was braver in many ways he’d never be. He never had to deal with anything like that. As a child, his only problem had been his own shyness. As he’d grown, he’d gained confidence, and he’d been too quick to forget about the days he’d had no friends.

“Did you have anyone?” Jun asked. They reached a stop, and Sho faced him, head tilted to the side. “When you were a kid, I mean.”

“I had my siblings,” Sho said. “Do you feel sorry for me now?”

“No,” Jun said. “But maybe, had we gotten to know each other in youth, you didn’t have to be so alone. I...would’ve followed you, I think.”

“You’re following me now,” Sho said. He pressed his palm against a console Jun hadn’t noticed before. “We’re here.”

The door before them swooshed open, and Jun had been here before. He hadn’t gotten a good look the first time, but he’d been here, listening in the shadows for any sign of the Emperor Apparent.

Sho led him around, past bookshelves that nearly touched the ceiling. Jun didn’t know where to look—all he could see were books and when he inhaled, he smelled parchment.

“Your Majesty!” the head librarian said in surprise, head hastily lowering in a formal bow. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Empty the library, master librarian,” Sho said with a smile. “I’d like to have it for myself for tonight.”

“As you wish,” the librarian said, casting a quick glance at Jun and at their linked hands. If she had something to say, she kept it to herself, turning on her heel to bark orders.

In minutes, the library was empty, and the head librarian excused herself after Sho had confirmed they wouldn’t need anything. When they heard the main doors slide shut, Sho finally let him go.

“You can start wherever you like,” Sho said. “The pads are in the corridor to your left. The master librarian keeps it separate from the books because she hates the noise they emit when people use the audiobook function.”

“Show me your favorites,” Jun said. “You told me reading became a habit of yours.”

Sho looked hesitant, but when Jun thought he’d decline, he tilted his head and led the way without a word. They walked past a couple of shelves, heading to the back of the library, one where the lights overhead had grown considerably dimmer.

Sho stopped when they reached a shelf filled with books. Jun didn’t dare approach or touch anything, standing there and waiting.

“I never had anyone to show this to before,” Sho said. He didn’t look at Jun. “I’ve been ridiculed all my life and I...I was afraid I’d still be mocked for what I included here. Even if this is already my safe space.” He looked over his shoulder. “Some of these might bore you.”

“They’re part of you,” Jun said, taking a step forward. He took another when Sho didn’t appear to object. “If you’d let me, I’d like to know all parts of you.”

Sho reached up and pulled a tome from the shelf. He had to blow on its cover to be rid of the dust, and when he was satisfied, he handed the volume to Jun. “I took that one from the restricted section. Never returned it since.”

Jun grinned, accepting the book. “What a mischievous child.”

“I took it because they said I was too stupid to understand what it says,” Sho said. Jun opened the book and saw that it was a collection of star charts and meteor storm predictions. “Needless to say, I proved them wrong.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of that for a long time,” Jun said. “You’ve done it to me.”

Sho faced him. “Why? Because you were raised to hate me as much as I was taught you were the enemy?”

“No,” Jun said. Then he amended, “Well, yes, that too, but I was talking about Denebia.”

“Denebia?” Sho frowned.

“Before Denebia,” Jun clarified. “When you sent Daigo-san home.”

“You told me to,” Sho said. “I followed your advice and it proved to be the right thing to do.”

“That’s the thing,” Jun said, smiling. “I never thought I could make you do anything.”

“You’d find that if you ask me for something, I’d consider it seriously,” Sho said. “Especially now.”

Jun moved closer to Sho’s space, the book held on his side. It made Sho press his back against the shelf, and Jun could see the rise and fall of Sho’s chest.

“I asked you once to kiss me,” Jun whispered, as if anyone might hear them. “You refused.”

“That didn’t mean I didn’t want to at that time,” Sho said.

“Do you want to? Right now?” Jun asked. They were a breath away, and Jun wanted to give in.

“Ask,” Sho said teasingly, his full lips curving to a smirk.

“Kiss me,” Jun said.

Sho tilted his head just as Jun closed his eyes, and he sighed when he felt Sho’s warm mouth on his own. It had been too long. He found himself responding, his free hand cupping Sho’s nape to have him closer. Sho had his hands fisted at the lapels of Jun’s coat, lips parting when Jun asked to be let in. He took Sho’s pleased noises for himself, muffling them and going for more, finding that he couldn’t possibly get enough.

Their breaths were rushed when they broke apart, and Jun pressed his forehead against Sho’s.

“Tomorrow,” he started, but Sho stopped him with a brief kiss.

“I will fight with you,” Sho said. “I’ll be wherever you go.”

Jun didn’t want anything else. They shared another kiss, one with Sho’s arms looping around his neck. He had to reach blindly to their side to approximate their distance from the nearest table, and he placed the book there before his hands went to Sho’s hips, holding him in place.

They’d been seen like this before, but since the library was empty, Jun had no fears of being discovered. He kissed Sho with all he had, letting Sho know that he wanted him so and that hadn’t changed.

It was Sho who pulled away first, lips moving to his ear. Jun was ticklish, and the brushes of Sho’s mouth against his earlobe made him squirm with a quiet laugh.

“Will you take a duke or a duchess for your consort?” he heard himself ask.

“What’s this?” Sho whispered against his ear. “Have you been listening to what my council pesters me with when they have nothing better to do?”

“I overhear things,” Jun said with a smile. “Less intentional.”

Sho nipped on the shell of his ear for that response. “Do you honestly see me marrying anyone?”

“Not just anyone,” Jun said. Then, boldly: “I could be your consort.”

Sho drew back to see his face, and Jun met his stare evenly. “You’re too good to be just my consort.”

“That’s not what I proposed,” Jun said.

Sho ran his knuckles on the side of Jun’s face, stopping when they reached the curve of his jaw. “You’re a king. You could have anyone.”

“I don’t want them,” Jun said confidently, selfishly. He’d never find anyone who could rival Sho. He’d never want anyone else.

“Once you win, you will have to return to Saiph,” Sho said, smiling sadly. “And I’m the emperor here.”

This time, Jun kissed Sho so he’d stop calling out truths. He kissed Sho to remember this night which might be their last. He kissed Sho to let him know how torn he was.

“I wish we ran away,” Jun said in between kisses. “I wish we left when we could.”

“When we saw the old mining station? That dawn we spent riding a speeder?”

“Yes, or before that,” Jun whispered. “Before Denebia. We were on a ship. We could’ve left then.”

“And start another war?” Sho smiled between them. “Repeat the century-old history our ancestors wrote?”

Jun tugged at Sho’s bottom lip. “I wouldn’t be the first Saiphan who abducted a Hamali royalty.”

“If I could, I’d have you,” Sho panted against his mouth. “But I never had anything that stayed with me for as long as I wanted it. Either they get taken from me or they leave on their own volition. You’re one of them. You left me once, and soon, you’ll leave me again. So for tonight, pretend with me.”

“Pretend?” Jun asked, unable to open his eyes. His chest felt too tight.

“That tomorrow might not come,” Sho said. “That you’ll stay this time. Let me have this before you go.”

Jun initiated a hard kiss, silencing Sho’s words, the harsh, difficult truths. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t want to lose, but winning meant staying in Saiph for good and never seeing Sho again. His kingdom was on the line, and yet, for a moment, he thought he’d risk it if it meant he’d get a second longer by Sho’s side.

“I wish I took you away that night,” Jun said after his lips already felt swollen and sore. “On that speeder. We could’ve gone anywhere, away from all this, in some part of the galaxy where we don’t have to choose.”

Sho put their foreheads together, one hand resting on the back of Jun’s nape. “In another life, maybe we did that. Or maybe we met when we were children and I pulled you along like what I did earlier. Maybe you courted me and showed me your garden.”

Jun’s laugh was sad, nothing too different from what he felt inside. “We never had enough time. It’s always like this. We find each other when we don’t have long.”

“Then let’s make the most of it,” Sho said, giving him a brief, sweet kiss. “We’ll do anything you want tonight.”

Jun let him go, taking a step back. Sho’s mouth was red and tempting, and Jun had to look away to resist. “Pretend I’m your suitor,” he said.

Sho quirked an eyebrow, the angle of his lips curving to a smile. “And?”

“How would you have entertained me?”

“I wouldn’t show you my collection,” Sho said. “But let’s say I favored you among all of them, the most I’d do is to share a meal with you.”

“You’ve already done that,” Jun said. “You slept on my bed.”

“Because you asked,” Sho said. “What else will you ask for tonight?”

“Read your favorite to me,” Jun said, gesturing to the shelf behind Sho with a tilt of his chin. “The one book you kept going back to even as you got older.”

Sho pulled a book from the shelf and made his way to nearest table. He sat on the edge of it, legs spread and dangling, and Jun pulled a chair and had Sho’s legs frame his sides. Sho began flipping pages, clearly in search of something, and Jun settled for watching his face as he waited.

“For a moment there I thought you’d pick this one,” Jun said, lifting the book about star charts from earlier.

“I was tempted,” Sho said. “I enjoyed that one. But I figured I’d be annoyed with your wisecracks given that you’re a good pilot and know your way around maps.”

Jun rested his forearms on Sho’s thighs, cherishing their proximity. “I’d listen to you read anything, I think.”

“I’ll read the inventory report to you next time,” Sho said, laughing when Jun made a face. “You said anything.”

“Anything of interest, I mean,” Jun said.

“Be more specific next time,” Sho said. He seemed to have found what he was looking for, stopping at a particular page. “This is about the Old World.”

“You won’t bore me,” Jun promised. “You’d know if you are.”

“Yes, your face is very expressive,” Sho said. “Now be quiet.”

Jun laughed but otherwise said nothing, and Sho began reading.

--

They stayed in the royal library of Hamal till morning, until the attendants arrived to collect them both and prepare them for the boarding. They were to take the Hamali flagship together while Nino and Shun went ahead in an inconspicuous trader ship. They got a headstart, leaving Hamal hours prior to the armada, and by the time Jun was dressed and waiting in the spacedock, he’d already received a transmission from Shun that he and Nino had made the hyperspace jump.

He saw Sho’s mother and Sho’s two siblings approaching, and he lowered his head in a respectable bow to greet them. If any of them knew of Sho’s actions for the past few days, they made no indication of it.

Sho was escorted by Ohno and Keiko, arriving last but certainly drawing the attention. He wasn’t in armor, but he wore clothes similar to Jun’s—a white coat with a different cut, white trousers, white gloves. The entire spaceport looked at him in adoration.

Sho stopped in front of Mai and he held her face in his hands, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be home for your birthday,” Sho said with a smile. “I can’t miss your thirtieth, can I?”

“I won’t forgive you if you do,” Mai said. “May the stars shine upon you.”

“And you,” Sho said. He faced his brother who looked just like him and said, “I can trust you to annoy the council in my absence, yes?”

His brother only grinned in response, and Sho said, “Do better than me if you can.”

Sho saved his mother for last, who only gave him a knowing look. Then: “In your absence, we hold the throne in good will. May the stars shine upon you—” and in what appeared to be an uncharacteristic show of affection, she stroked the side of Sho’s face, “—and guide your way home.”

Sho put a fist over his heart and bowed, letting the moment pass. When he straightened his posture, he was looking at the flagship.

“I will return,” he said, though he didn’t look at his family. “Hamal is my home.”

Jun willed himself not to react at the implications of that statement, instead moving to stand beside Sho. They were equals now and it’d boost the men’s morale if they witnessed them board the ship together.

As if on cue, they moved at the same time, their strides evenly paced. The Hamali flagship was thrice the size of Otonoha with state-of-the-art artillery and cloaking device. It would be flanked by fighter ships on all sides, piloted by Ohno and Aiba’s men, the rest of Jun’s men, and Sho’s personal guard. The flagship had Iseya for its pilot, and he was already on the bridge when Jun arrived there with Sho.

“You’re supposed to be in another ship,” Sho said to Keiko, who was seated on the navigation console and serving as co-pilot.

“Find me someone who can fly this ship then,” Keiko challenged. Jun could already see Iseya’s amused grin.

“He can,” Sho said, inclining his head at Jun.

At the look Keiko gave him, Jun raised his hands. “I’m not volunteering.”

Keiko and Sho exchanged another look, and Sho said, “Fine.”

Iseya began punching a few buttons, and on Sho’s word, he moved the ship out of the spacedock. The rest of the fleet followed suit via a synchronized communications channel, and when Sho gave a nod, they made the jump to hyperspace.

From Hamal at their current speed, they’d reach Saiph in six days. The fleet had to stay together, and they sacrificed speed to avoid having a ship fall behind. Nino and Shun had their ship’s capabilities maxed out and were expected to send word on their progress three days from now. Till then, Jun knew he’d worry. A lot of things could happen in this week.

With the ship on autopilot, Jun accepted Keiko’s offer of a tour. She seemed to be very familiar with the ship and all its levels.

They reached three floors down from the bridge and Keiko said, “He doesn’t know it yet, but Okada-san is here. No other physician seemed most qualified to serve in the flagship.”

“He ordered for Okada to remain in Hamal,” Jun said.

“Well, not a lot of people listen to what he says nowadays,” Keiko said. “You would know. You’ve been doing that in his camp in the outskirts.”

“I think he gives these orders not to prohibit people from joining his cause,” Jun said as they walked side-by-side. “Rather, it’s because he’s used to doing things on his own and he puts people where he thinks the majority will benefit, nevermind himself.”

“He can’t win this war alone,” Keiko said. “He barely won the last one.”

Jun nodded in agreement. “But he’s not alone.” He smiled. “I’m glad he has people who look after him even if he doesn’t want to be looked after.”

“He has you,” Keiko said. “But you need looking after from time to time too.” She stopped, and Jun turned to face her, footsteps coming to a halt. “When you get your throne, what happens?”

“Then everything is as it should be,” Jun said.

“I know that,” Keiko said. “I meant him. You have to leave him. He knows it. You know it as well, and everyone in Hamal knows it. He’s made a good emperor for his first few months and he’s won his people’s allegiance.”

Jun didn’t like the path this conversation was heading to, but he’d been expecting to hear it at some point. “You want me to leave him now so the hurt will be less when the time comes.” He let out a breath, averting his gaze to watch the corridor. “I tried. I couldn’t—can’t. I know it’s selfish. I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I can’t possibly leave him now.”

“It’s gone too long already,” Keiko said. “You will have to, eventually. You will be king. You can’t choose him over your kingdom. The entirety of Hamal knows this, that’s why they let it happen. If you don’t do it now, you’ll only end up hurting him more. He’s suffered enough.”

Jun shut his eyes, feeling conflicted. “I know what he’s been through.”

“Then you know I’m right,” Keiko said.

“You’re asking me to hurt him now so I won’t have to in the future,” Jun said. “I can’t. I won’t be that kind of person to him. I won’t do that to his trust.”

“Then you’re a selfish king, Matsumoto Jun,” Keiko said. She looked weary all of a sudden. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. I said these things because I could never say them to him. He’d never listen.”

“He never listens,” Jun said.

“He listens to you,” Keiko said.

Jun shook his head. “I can’t tell him these things. Not after everything.”

Keiko stood in his line of sight. Despite her smaller built, she looked more confident than Jun felt. “I’m not a Saiphan. But I know your men, have trained with them, have shared stories of war with them. They have my respect. Can you promise me that when the time comes, you’ll choose your people over him?”

“I know that my time with him isn’t meant to last,” Jun said in acknowledgement. “I have a responsibility to my planet, one that I abandoned for too long out of indulgence and unpredictable circumstances.”

“You’re not answering the question,” Keiko pointed out.

“You said it earlier that I will have to, eventually,” Jun said. “But until then…”

He trailed off, and he heard Keiko sigh.

“You’re going to hurt him,” Keiko said.

He was going to hurt them both, Jun thought. But Keiko had been right: it had gone for too long already. He was a moth to the flicker of a flame, drawn and captivated.

“He knows,” Jun said. “He told me last night.”

You’re going to leave me again, Sho had said.

“Then there is nothing more I can tell you,” Keiko said. She resumed walking, and Jun fell into step beside her. “Despite his tendencies, he has a good heart. As a Hamali, I only wish to see him truly happy.”

“You don’t think I can give that to him,” Jun said.

“He needs someone who can help him rule by offering him good counsel, someone he trusts and listens to,” Keiko said. “You’re all of those, except he also needs someone who can stay, and that’s something you can’t do. You belong with your people.”

“Do you think,” Jun asked seriously, “it would’ve been better if he and I never met? I often wonder. If we never met, you’d have no one to give this talk to.”

“Perhaps everyone in Hamal thinks of it,” Keiko said after a moment. “But considering the odds then...he wouldn’t be emperor if you hadn’t arrived that day.”

Jun didn’t think he’d done something noteworthy. If he hadn’t killed Inamine, anyone else would’ve done it. Keiko could’ve done it herself. “He’d still be where he is right now even without my help. He would’ve found another way to make it happen without me.”

“He’d have been assassinated if you hadn’t arrived,” Keiko reminded him. “I don’t gloss over what you’ve done for him. I know I’m not in a position to ask a king to do something. But if you care for him, you know what I say is true.”

“I know it’s true,” Jun acknowledged. “I know I’ll only hurt him in the end. But it’s too late now, I think. If I could stay away, I’d have done it a long time ago. I think a part of me will always search for him no matter where I go. And that part will always want to return.”

Two halves of a whole according to the legend. But Sho was no myth or origin story—he was real. And if he needed Jun, Jun returned the sentiment twofold.

He turned and saw Keiko looking at him but there was no trace of judgment in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Jun said. “You know what will be my answer when you ask me to leave him.”

“Yes,” Keiko said, nodding. “That’s why I won’t ask anymore.”

They reached the turbo lifts, and Keiko punched a button that would take them to the mess hall.

“The way you love him is selfish,” Keiko said after a moment of brief silence. “You won’t let him go unless you already have to.”

“How awful, isn’t it?” Jun said, smiling sadly. “I keep thinking that one day I might have enough, but I always find myself wanting more.”

“He is the same towards you, I think,” Keiko said. “He keeps you close even if he knows more than anyone else that you’ll leave eventually.”

“Why didn’t you tell him these things, then? He will listen to you; you bear him no ill will,” Jun said.

Keiko faced him fully, eyes on his. “I can’t. Because I see how he is when he’s with you, how happy he is, and I think you might be the only thing he’s had for himself his whole life. I’ll stop anyone from taking something like that from him if I could.”

“You are stopping me,” Jun said with a dash of amusement.

“And utterly failing at it,” Keiko said. “I prefer when I have to fight you one on one. That way, I know I’ve won.”

Jun let out a small laugh, remembering. It felt like a long time ago, back when things had been easier.

“When the time comes,” Keiko said, and they both knew what she meant, “make it quick. Don’t linger and don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’re bound to hurt him no matter what you do, so don’t make him suffer through it longer than necessary. It’s all I ask.”

Jun’s breaths were measured and his chest felt heavy. He was a king, and this was just one of the many sacrifices he’d have to make in his reign.

“When the time comes,” he muttered, and Keiko said no more.




FOLLOW THE LINK to Part 4

Comments

[akhikaru]

~~~SPOT~~~
Alright, I'm back... and I'll try to make it short. Try. Heh xD

“Heard you killed the big bad man,” Nino said.
Information runs so fast what the hell xD

Sho, Jun realized, had always carried his scars. He hid them but hadn’t erased them.
That's very brave of him. It also says a lot that Sho's allowing Jun to see his scars. Damn, why do you give me feels now, noooo!!!

AND YESSSSSSS HERE IT COMES!!!! (Not really going to comment much on the smut, but I'll just ahve you know I really enjoyed it :D And Jun topping??? Yes! Thank you!)
“I want it,” Sho whispered between them. “I wanted it since we rode that speeder and saw the sea, the cliffs, the old mining station. I wanted it since I allowed you to be that close.”
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“This isn’t a scar,” he noted.
“No, it isn’t. I had piercings once. One on my ear and one there.”
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!YES???!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I’d stay if you asked.”
“And that’s why I will never,” Sho said. “You’re the only Saiphan in this planet and the only one I allowed to be this close. If you stay, they will use you against me.” Sho slipped out of his grip, fingers reappearing to trace the outline of his lips. “I can’t let that happen. I’m responsible for a planet now.”
Ahhh come ooooon why are you so considerate and responsibleeeee!!!
I mean, he isn't wrong. But... :/

Sho stirred when Jun skimmed his fingers over his arm, eyes slowly fluttering open, and something inside Jun ached when they locked eyes and Sho smiled.
This unguarded version of Sho was just for him to see. And he’d likely never witness it again.
SAAAAAAAAAAAAD

They pulled away the same time when they heard a surprised gasp from the doorway, and Jun could feel his cheeks burning when he saw Yoko hurriedly bowing his head, eyes fixed on his feet.
There was no denying what he’d seen. Jun, after all, was still half naked, and behind them, the bed was unmade.
Why, of course he saw. And he's going to tell everyone as soon as he leaves, won't he? Because gossiping is the preferred hobby of all Hamali soldiers, yes?

They returned to the keep together, and judging from the looks Jun had gotten on the way there, he knew Yoko had already told everyone.
KNEW IT!!!!!

Nino’s eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t swindle any of his men. I won their money fair and square in last night’s game of chess.”
“I’m amazed you know what fair and square means,” Aiba said. “You pulled a move I wasn’t expecting.”
LOL, Nino!!! For someone who didn't "swindle" anyone, he sounds quite defensive here. And of course Aiba was one of his victims xD

“He was picking his nose when he heard. With the other hand of course, I can’t imagine him inserting the metal finger into his nose,” Nino said. “He stopped in the middle of his nose-picking and asked Aiba-shi, ‘Are they naked?’”
Jun sighed and shook his head, walking faster. He heard Nino laugh as Nino jogged a bit and caught up with him.
“So then Aiba asked Kazama who asked Yokoyama, and the guy said you were,” Nino told him.
“I wasn’t,” Jun said before he could help it. “I had my trousers on.”
HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA OF COURSE OHNO ASKED IF THEY WERE NAKED!!!!! And wow, these guys really like to twist information xDDDDD

I'm glad Jun could keep the promise he made Nino. Even if he has still a lot to do, this is a small victory for him already, and it's great!

Sho's sending Jun on a mission???
“I meant what I said. When this is all over, should you find your way back here—to me—, you’ll have a place to stay.” Sho gave him a sad smile. “I know I’ll never see you again. But if there’s any chance it’ll be possible one day, maybe you can visit me in the Hamali court.”
“To share your table as a guest?” Jun asked once Sho’s hand fell away.
“To court me,” Sho said. He took the badge from Jun and withdrew completely. “Maybe.”
“In my planet, bodyguards don’t do this,” Jun said with a smile.
“That’s how it is in my planet too,” Sho told him. “Why, did you think I did this with Nagase-kun? Don’t be absurd.”
Why not, Sho? He was a handsome guy!!! xDDDDD (I laughed so much at this part oh god xD)

“No,” the man said in shock, his eyes wide. The other three men with him had their jaws hanging open. “You’re dead.”
“I’m not,” Jun said shakily. “I thought you’re all dead.”
!!!!!!!!!!!!!JUN'S MEN!!!!!!!!!!?????????????
I'm thinking Sho /did/ know who Jun was then. It can't be just a coincidence.
It's good that Jun is now with Shun and the others :D

“I know you. You love a challenge. You love the thrill it gives you because it gets you going. The drive is hard to resist for you, and when someone poses a challenge, instead of giving up on them, the more they grab your attention. Tell me, did you hate him?”
“Yes,” Jun hissed, and Shun laughed.
xD

“I think he’s responsible for that. I’m not sure, but that’s what I believe.”
“He? You mean the Emperor?”
“Someone once told me his greatest weapon was his mind,” Jun said. “I think that’s why he sent me to Mesartim. He knew.”
RIGHT!??

“Wait,” Jun said, slowly remembering. “Live transmission?”
“Yes,” Shun said.
Denebia. The transmission Sho hadn’t told Jun about. He’d been speaking to Shun then.
AHA!

And now they're meeting again...
“You’ve sent a rather daring transmission, Your Majesty,” Sho said, taking a seat. He crossed his legs, one arm on the rest, and he rested his chin on his knuckles. “Imagine my surprise.”
Jun didn’t want to, even if he could. “Unnecessary. I’m here because I have a proposal I think you might consider, given the circumstances. War is coming to your doorstep.”
Sho quirked an eyebrow. “And here I thought you were here as a suitor.”
I almost laughed at this part, except that they're being so serious, especially Sho... O_O

“Then speak, Your Majesty,” Sho said after a moment. “Speak in front of those whom I trust, and I’ll decide if you’re deserving of that trust as well.”
...ouch

I'm not surprised Sho realized who Jun was because of his attitude xDDDDD No commoner acts like he did, seriously xD

“I wanted you to run away. Hide wherever your captain deemed was safe for you. That was your way out. And like the idiot you’re always proving yourself to be, you didn’t take it.”
“I’m not a coward,” Jun said. “After all the months we spent together, you really thought I’d do that?”
To his surprise, Sho laughed. “No. But I hoped you would. I hoped you’d see reason and stay away.” When he spoke again, he no longer looked at Jun. “Mesartim was your chance.”
Oh, Sho... :(

Sho didn’t. “Why is it,” Sho began, “that you never do what you’re supposed to do, what I expected you to do?”
Jun frowned, and Sho continued, “You were supposed to tell me you played me false to force my hand into this alliance. You were supposed to tell me that night and everything after it were done out of necessity, not out of want. That way, it would be easier.” Sho sighed in seeming exhaustion. “Why do you always choose to prove me otherwise?”
This is so very sad :(((((((( Not that I don't understand why Sho says it/thinks it, but it's really, really sad.

I like both Sho's sister and mother. Jun's conversation with Sho's mother was still very, very sad. So was the dance scene :(((((((((
He had no one. Whatever was about to happen, he had to fight on his own.
This, for example xD

When the doors slid shut once more, Sho said quietly, “I know how someone looks like when they truly want me.”
When Jun turned, all he saw was Sho’s back.
They were finally alone together, and Sho was deliberately shielding himself.
“I suppose they look like your suitor from last night?” Jun asked. Jun hadn’t bothered to ask where that man had hailed from, but he’d been handsome. Someone Jun would’ve likely entertained had it been his suitor when he’d been Crown Prince.
“No,” Sho said, and the doors were sliding open to reveal an attendant. “They look like a king from last night.”
Sho, why are you like this???

I don't trust Jun's sister. I think it's a trap.
Selfishly, Jun found himself saying, “Tell me you missed me. Even if it’s not true. Even if you’re just going to indulge me.”
“At night, I’d lie awake, unable to find rest, only to realize I was waiting for you to bring a book. At times, I’d look to my side and wonder why you’re not there.” Sho held his hand in his own, keeping them clasped between them. “I miss you. That’s the truth.”
Although it led to this xD (which I like very much! This entire scene was <3)

“Did you see her face? She certainly didn’t expect to find me here,” Sho said, smiling. “I wonder what kind of gossip that will make.”
Is gossiping a Hamali thing??? Even their emperor likes it so much xDDDDDD

I didn't even suspect the connection between what was going on in Jun's planet with the plans to kill Sho, but it makes total sense!

Jun pursed his lips. “For starters, would you like to see Saiph? With me? The color of our seas is different—it’s blue, not green. Our skies are almost often blue too, except when there are storms. The royal palace isn’t like the one you have here; it’s not on a cliff. It floats with a citadel and can only be reached by spacecrafts or any ferry. I kept a garden there where I tended to whatever caught my fancy. I have this small tree that only blooms in season, and I think it bears the same flower as the one you use as your crest. I—I’d love for you see that, even once.”
For a moment, Sho didn’t speak. He simply looked at Jun in the darkness, his expression hidden in shadows and mostly unreadable. The silence ate at Jun, adding to his nervousness. He almost took his words back, but then:
“Yes,” Sho said, smiling and making Jun’s heart swell. “Yes, I’d like that.”
I liked this moment right here <3 Just thought I'd let you know :P

Nino's return makes me happy for various reasons. First, he returns xD Second, he's as funny as ever (AND STILL CALLS SHO A PRINCELING!!!). Third, it seems he's found something good waiting for him at home, and that makes me very happy ^^ The fact that he asks for full pardon to live at his planet shows that everything that's happened has changed his perspective.

The passageway and library scenes are <3333
“I could be your consort.”
YES!

Now, the end of this part...
I guess I understand Keiko's reasons, but I wish it wasn't like this. It's very complicated.