#...unless??

His eyes drift to the lanterns hung from the stone walls in intervals down the long corridor, flickering weakly. The pale glow from their candles do little to illuminate the hallway but Harry’s sight has long adapted to the darkness after years of training deep in the night.

Every hour, a patrol of four knights will pass across the corridor at the end of the hall, one of the many precautions taken by the king to ensure the safety of the castle and of the royal family. Harry is feeling the familiar stiffness in his neck and legs when they finally appear, symbolizing one hour completed of their five hour watch.

It’s also a sign for something else.

The telltale sound of a bolt sliding echoes in his ears and he tenses, biting his lip to suppress a small smile as the door creaks open.

Prince Louis peeks his head out of the door, immediately directing his gaze to Liam. Even so, Harry can see the flush coloring his cheeks and it ignites a familiar warmth inside him, fingers twitching around the hilt of his pollaxe and the urge to reach over and cup Louis’ chin so he can see those glorious blue eyes getting more difficult to resist.

“Sir Liam,” Louis murmurs in greeting. Liam breaks his rigid focus to bow to him, always the picture of perfect etiquette.

“Your Royal Highness,” Liam says, voice crisp and coated with respect.

Louis nods to acknowledge him, before finally turning to Harry. He moves slowly, lips quirked up at the side as he drags his gaze over Harry’s face and armor. “Sir Harry,” he says, voice soft and fond.

He has to bite his lip this time to tamp away the smile, struggling to maintain his cool. “Your Royal Highness,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t bow. Louis doesn’t want him to anyway.

They stare at each other for a minute and Harry memorizes the softness in Louis’ sparkling eyes, storing it in a safe of a thousand other glimpses that he can draw strength from in his most trying times. But mostly, he just admires.

The prince snaps out of it first, clearing his throat before saying the same words he always says. “I’m going to bed soon, and I’d like to request the presence of one of you gentlemen to keep watch until I fall asleep.”

Liam wouldn’t dare offer, so Harry proceeds with his usual, “I’d be honored, your highness,” and Louis smiles his usual pleased smile.

Instead of protesting or alerting one of their superiors, Liam just rolls his eyes and stays quiet, letting Harry leave without conflict like he’s been doing for the entire six months they’ve been seeing each other. He hasn’t said a word about it to anyone else either, allowing them to keep their secret. It’s why despite the lack of companionship in their rounds, Harry considers Liam to be someone kind and trustworthy.

The man doesn’t even falter when Harry breaks the number one rule that’s been instilled in him since he’s been knighted, and abandons his post.

He breaks away from the wall as Louis opens the door wider, making enough room for him to slip inside. Then he breaks the second most important rule that’s been instilled in him: he steps foot inside the prince’s private rooms.

Even though the prince gave him explicit permission to do so, it’s considered consequential. Knights aren’t meant to interact with the prince - aren’t meant to be the recipient of the prince’s affections either. But Harry cannot find it in himself to feel ashamed.

What he and Louis have, while forbidden, is something tender and honest. It doesn’t matter that he’s just a knight and Louis is the heir to the throne - none of it matters because they are in love.

So, he enters the room without hesitation, propping his pollaxe against the wall as Louis gently shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt back into place. Harry settles his hands on his hip, making him jump before sighing out and slumping back into Harry’s chest. They stand like that for a bit, and Harry inhales the sweet smell of berries in Louis’ soft hair, letting it relax him like it has every day.

It had been difficult abandoning his post the first few times when Louis suggested it, even when he reasoned with himself that it really is true that Louis is much safer in his arms than anywhere else. But half a year past, Harry has forgotten any of his grievances, content to savor every moment he has with the prince because their time is always finite.

One hour. One hour every night and a sprinkling of minutes between Harry’s jousting practice and Louis’ daily garden stroll is all they have, but Harry wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Louis eventually breaks away from his hold, humming to himself as he turns and tilts his head up to appraise Harry with a frown. “You look tired,” he notes.

“You know it’s rare that I get much sleep,” Harry says. Especially when you aren’t laying against my chest, hand pressed to my heart.

Huffing, Louis rolls his eyes. “They need to stop making you patrol for so long. You’d think Father would be wise enough to realize that he needs his men well-rested in case of an attack rather than half-dead.” He reaches up and thumbs at Harry’s dark under eyes and Harry catches his hand, sliding it up to circle Louis’ wrist and squeeze before letting go.

“Your father just wants to keep you safe,” Harry says, “and I want that too. If that means I have to stand guard outside your door for five hours every night, I’m glad to do it.”

“Four,” Louis corrects, “only four.”

Harry smiles because he’s right. The fifth hour - or rather, the second - belongs to them. Harry remembers when he resented the system in place that meant younger and less-senior knights were given the most brunt work - the monotonous jobs of keeping watch and patrolling. But now he’s grateful for them, because it’s what finally brought him Louis.

Like many knights in the kingdom, Harry spent all seven years of his apprenticeship from fourteen to twenty-one at the castle as a squire, assisting and learning and training. Though it was only when he received his official title as a knight that he’s been honored a place inside its walls, freed from the cramped apprenticeship dwellings far out on the grounds and given a bigger, though still gloomy, room alongside the rest of the garrison and personal guard.

It’s also the first time he had the pleasure of laying his eyes on the crown prince, but it wouldn’t be until he was tasked with the first rotation of guards for Louis’ quarters that Louis would lay his eyes on him in return.

Louis smiles softly at him now, flattening his small hands against the chest plate of his armor. He doesn’t have to wear his full set when he’s patrolling but the chest plate and leg plates remain, a layer of chain mail underneath them. He doesn’t have to wear his mask either though, which means he’s free to lean down and press his lips to the crown of Louis’ head.

Harry intertwines their fingers when Louis’ hand curls into his, squeezing. “I love you,” Louis whispers then, and Harry’s heart swells with the declaration.

“And I love you. My little prince,” he murmurs back, before ducking down to seal the words with a kiss.