#ler!isaac

The only sounds one could hear here at that time were the rustling of leaves and the faint babel of voices that reached up from the city, carried by the wind. Though tonight, another sound had joined them. Two figures slipped through the silence as they carefully made their way through rose- and tulips bushes.

One slipped ahead lightly, a cloak drawn tight around his slim frame. The other followed a half-step behind, taller, his movements more cautious, as his eyes constantly scanned their surroundings. “Come, hurry up Phil!” Isaac’s voice was a hushed whisper with barely concealed excitement as he glanced back over his shoulder.

Even in the dim light of the rising moon, you could see the gleam in his eyes as he urged the other to hurry up. There was something unmistakably eager in the way he moved, as if he had somewhere to be or had been expected for a secret late-night meeting. Philipp winced softly at the sound, though he couldn’t help the fond curve of his mouth.

“You’re going to get us caught if you keep talking,” he murmured back. His ears twitched instinctively against the hood he wore and he nervously looked around, attuned to the slightest sound, while his tail swayed nervously behind him. Isaac slowed just enough to let him draw closer, turning slightly so they could continue along the path together.

“Relax,” he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips, “I ordered the servants not to bother me, so none of them will check on me till tomorrow. Besides, no one comes here at this hour anyways, not even the guards. And even if someone did see us, they’d never expect the third prince of Soluna sneaking through his own garden like this,” he said, beating his chest as if sneaking out at night was the most casual thing in the world to do.

“That’s exactly why they’d notice, Isaac,” the brunette replied, “princes aren’t supposed to sneak out.” The blonde snorted softly. “Then it’s a good thing I’m doing a terrible job at being one tonight.” Philipp grimaced slightly at his comment, but didn’t stop moving forward.

He was used to his friend's behavior by now, and in all honesty, he didn't even mind it anymore. It made him truly happy to see him so excited about something so trivial as going out on a little nightly adventure - well, not the kind of some might think.

Living as a prince wasn't always easy, although most wouldn’t believe that. Yes, he had a more luxury life than most people out there, but as they say "noblesse oblige" and he also had his duties to fulfill, responsibilities to meet.

Thus, as the loyal friend and servant that he was, Philipp granted him these little privileges, aside from all the obligations that a position like his entailed, to help him recharge.

They reached the edge of the gardens, which were surrounded by a meters high stone wall with watchtowers every now and then. Small pairs of lights could be seen patrolling on them like fireflies drawing their paths through the night - the only visible evidence of the watchful eyes of the palace guard doing their rounds.

The two came to a stop in front of an old statue overgrown with ivy. Despite the slight overgrowth, the marble surface hadn't lost its gleam and still looked magnificent as the likeness of the first king raised his sword up in the air, letting it shine in the moonlight.

Beyond it laid the contorted streets of the main city of Soluna - Sterrenzee - lit by lanterns that cast warm pools of gold against the house walls and shuttered windows. It was a city imbued with trade and art. Namable stores and restaurants seamed the main streets and theatres and operas were omnipresent. Even the outer parts of the city were well-developed and entailed a variety of stores and smaller theaters for the broader mass. A small port, located in the south of the city, welcomed arriving ships that had sailed along the river, and at the same time connected the narrow waterways that crisscrossed the city like a grid, enabling smaller ships to transport their goods to their destinated location. Wide streets scattered to the four winds, formed the land routes, leading to the surrounding viscounties and the neighboring domains, enabling traveling and transport by land as well.

Following these paths westward, one eventually reached the Holy Empire, ruled by the Church of Faith. A land of great wealth, governed by a puppet emperor. The true rulers were a council of old men who still adhered to the ancient belief that those gifted with magic were a gift from the gods and therefore belonged to the church and should be managed by them. Even now, so the story goes, they "shelter" a being that had lived longer than any human, capable of accomplishing miracles. The king - Isaac's father - didn't like to deal with them if he could avoid it, but they were influential and their believes had already began to spread in other kingdoms. At least they didn't bother to involve themselves with other nations politics so far, as long as magic wasn't involved.

Looking east, one would eventually reach the Pririd Alliance, a relatively young federation of various demi-human races. It is a fertile land and golden fields can be seen as far as the eye goes. Humans were still mostly unseen and unwelcomed there, as slavery and trafficking had severely weakened relations until twelve years ago. It was the king who had ended these crimes back then, establishing equal rights for demi-human. Therefore, relations have slowly built up again, and a delegation, including Isaac's younger brother, has been scheduled to travel there soon to further strengthen the connection between the two nations.

...

A small, inconspicuously flowering shrub right behind the statue concealed their objective - a hidden hatch just big enough to fit a person, leading to a secret passage - an old escape route that led into the city and was only known to the royal family and the highest officials. The duo looked around one last time before they disappeared in the ground.

The path was narrow and dark, only lightened by small crystal-like blue stones that were engraved into the cold stone, the air thick, and the stairs a bit slippery, but they didn't take long to pass through it, after all, it wasn’t the first- and surely not the last time they would cross it in the middle of the night.

Upon reaching the end, they stood before a dead end with a bluish shining wall of solid rock. Several runes were engraved in it, giving the wall its glowing color. Isaac stretched out his left arm and slid his fingers over it, leaving a glowing trail behind, that faded away after a few seconds.

The stone felt cold under his fingers and yet he felt how a warmth began to spread from them. Philipp laid his hand encouragingly on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Ready when you are." Isaac took a deep breath before he took another step and walked right through the thick wall, as if it was nothing more than a mere curtain.

Philipp followed half a step behind. The solid rock had been enchanted - a holdover of old Elven magic, that granted the bloodline of the royal family and their most trusted companions free access, making it almost impossible for unwanted individuals or those with ill intentions to enter.

Elven magic was strong and said protection spell had been casted over three hundred years ago. Even now, after countless times walking through it, the mechanism behind it fascinated Philipp, making him feel a little tinglish whenever doing so. Magic was rare nowadays and only a handful of people could cast spells, demi-human not to mention.

Isaac paused just beyond the egress and the brunette almost bumped into him. The prince took another step forward, his fingers lifting to the edge of his hood. The air here smelleddifferent- less of rules and thick air, more of freedom and life itself.

For a brief moment, he hesitated, as though savoring the transition. Then he pushed it back, his blonde hair catching the lanternlight as it fell free. Philipp watched him quietly. No matter how many times they did this, the moment Isaac stepped into the city always felt significant - as if he was shedding more than just fabric.

Isaac inhaled deeply, his blue eyes bright as he looked around. “I love it out here,” he murmured, “it feels… real.” Philipp adjusted his own hood, though he kept it up. “It’s real inside the castle too,” he said gently, “just… different.” Isaac tilted his head, considering that.

“Different isn’t the same,” he replied after a moment, “here, no one watches how I stand or how I speak... or how long I laugh.” As if to prove his point, he turned and began down the street at an unhurried pace, gaze flicking from storefronts to upper windows, to the occasional late-night passerby. You could literally see the sparkle in his eyes.

Despite the hour, the streets weren’t empty, a high contrast to the castle grounds. A pair of bakers laughed together as they locked up for the night. Adventurers roomed the streets, on their way to the next tavern, for another round of ale, or to get their deserved rest for the night. Music drifted faintly from the distance, getting louder the longer they walked.

Philipp stayed close by his side as they strolled through the streets. “Just don’t forget where you are,” he said, “or who you are.” Isaac glanced at him sideways, a spark of mischief lighting his expression. “That almost sounded like a lecture.”

Before the brunette could reply, Isaac reached out and gave his side a quick, playful squeeze. Philipp yelped softly, shoulders jumping as he instinctively twisted away. “H-HeHehey!” Isaac laughed, delighted. “Spoilsport,” he teased, “you always start complaining right when we’re having fun.”

Philipp’s ears burned beneath his hood, a faint blush warming his cheeks despite himself, as he rubbed the ticklish feeling on his side away. He cleared his throat, straightening. “I’m just saying we shouldn’t stay out too long,” he said, a little less firmly than he’d intended, “we don’t want unwanted attention.”

Isaac raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “We can walk around a bit longer and then have a drink. Just you and me.” Philipp hesitated- then sighed, smiling despite himself.

“A bit longer,” he agreed, “but we keep moving... and we’re only drinking one mug this time,” he warned, remembering the last time Isaac had somewhat underestimated the strength of alcohol in the city and had to be carried by him halfway back. “Okay,” the blonde replied enthusiastic and Philipp snorted. One drink shouldn’t be a problem, right?

The streets grew livelier the further they went. Lanterns hung in clusters now, their light spilling onto cobblestones worn smooth by countless footsteps. Voices overlapped - laughter, arguments, snippets of funny songs. The smell of ale and roasted meat thickened the air and let Isaac's mouth pool with water.

They’d reached the tavern district. Isaac’s eyes widened as he took it all in, excitement plain on his face. On each side tavern after tavern in different size lined the streets. Laughter and music drifted from them and the scent of freshly cooked food was even stronger now.

A young adventurer, who had already been looking a bit too deeply into his mug, was just then relieving himself of his gluttony into a nearby bush, and Philipp quickly pulled the other along, who had starred at him with a sympathetic smile, while they searched for a suitable tavern, when Isaac suddenly came to a stop.

“There!” he said, pointing toward a warmly lit three-store building with painted shutters and a sign depicting a bell tied with ribbon. “That one. The Maiden’s Call.” Philipp followed his gaze, nodding. “I’ve heard of it,” he said, “decent reputation. Try not to stare too much.”

“No promises,” Isaac replied cheerfully as he dragged him towards the building. Inside, the tavern was alive with noise and warmth. Tables were crowded with travelers, merchants, and locals alike, tankards clinking as conversations flowed freely. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the wooden beams and worn floorboards.

They managed to find a small table near the wall, Philipp positioning himself so he could see most of the room while Isaac eagerly scanned everything at once. A server soon came by to take their order and Isaac requested drinks and some bread and meat with a grin that suggested he was enjoying every second of this small rebellion.

He smiled over at his friend, lightly kicking him under the table. "Come on, take that hood off now, it only made you look suspicious Phil~" he teased the other. "That's not-" Philipp began but sighed. Isaac was right. He hesitated for a second before he pushed his hood back, revealing his brunette hair and two large ears, with one of them twitching instinctively.

Isaac smiled at the him. "Much better, right?" "...Right." As they waited, Isaac leaned forward, chin resting in his hand, listening openly to the conversations around them. A group nearby argued animatedly about trade routes. Another table erupted into laughter over a poorly told joke. Everything felt loud, messy, and wonderfully alive.

And then Isaac noticed him. The waiter moved easily through the crowd, balancing a tray with practiced grace. He had dark hair and kind brown eyes, his smile quick and genuine as he spoke to patrons, exchanging lighthearted words even as he worked. There was something about him-something warm and unguarded that drew Isaac’s gaze without effort.

He didn’t even realize he was staring until the waiter glanced up and met his eyes. For a brief moment, the noise of the tavern seemed to fade. The waiter blinked in surprise- then smiled. Heat rushed to Isaac’s face. He quickly looked away, heart thudding in his chest as if he’d been caught doing something terribly improper.

He straightened, suddenly very interested in the grain of the wooden table. Philipp noticed the shift immediately. “Everything alright?” he asked quietly. “Yes- no- I mean-” Isaac cleared his throat, forcing himself to relax. “I’m fine,” he said, waving it off, “just… distracted.” Philipp followed his gaze briefly, eyes landing on the waiter as he moved past another table.

Something unreadable flickered across his expression before he looked back at Isaac. “Try not to get us into trouble,” he said lightly. Isaac smiled, though his attention kept drifting despite himself. Somewhere in the tavern, laughter rang out louder than before. Tankards were raised. The night pressed on, blissfully unaware that it was about to take a sharp turn.

Isaac was halfway through his drink when the atmosphere in the tavern suddenly shifted. At first, it was subtle - laughter that lingered a second too long, voices growing louder at one of the tables near the bar. He barely noticed until his gaze drifted back toward the waiter again, drawn by an instinct he didn’t quite understand yet.

The man - Elliot, though Isaac still didn’t know his name - had stopped beside a group of adventurers. Their armor was scuffed and mismatched, cloaks thrown carelessly over chair backs, the sharp smell of ale clinging to them like a second skin. One of them leaned far too close, slinging an arm across the counter as he spoke.

“C’mon,” the man slurred, grinning, “you’ve been smilin’ at us all night. Least you could do is pour us another round, eh?” “I’m working,” Elliot replied, still polite, though his smile had tightened, “you’ve already had more than enough. I’ll bring water instead.” That was when one of the others reached out. Isaac’s fingers tightened around his tankard.

The drunk’s hand brushed against Elliot’s wrist, lingering in a way that was unmistakably deliberate. “Don’t be like that,” he laughed, “just a little fun.” Elliot pulled his hand back sharply. “Don’t touch me.” The table erupted into hoots and chuckles. One of the other waiters crossed eyes with Elliot, but latter only shook his head. Don’t intervene, I can handle.

“Haha, hear that Joffrey, little fellow doesn’t want ya~” one of adventures - a chubby man with barely any hair left chortled. “No, no- maybe *hic* you should’ve asked a bit friendlier!” another babbled as the group fell into another laughing fit, earning gazes from the tables next to them. Joffrey grimaced, his face getting redder, and he tried to grab him again.

Isaac was on his feet before he realized he’d moved. “HEY!” The single word cut through the noise with surprising clarity. Several heads turned. Isaac stood straight, his expression sharp in a way Philipp had seen only a handful of times before. “You heard him,” Isaac continued with a steady voice, “he said no.” The adventurer squinted at him, then laughed.

“And who are you supposed to be, pretty boy?” Philipp stood up as well, positioning himself just half a step behind Isaac, glaring at the redhead grimly. “Someone you don’t want to test,” the blonde said calmly. The laughter faltered. “What’s the problem?” another of the group demanded, pushing his chair back. “We’re just talkin’.”

Elliot looked between them, surprise flashing across his face- then concern. “I-It’s fine,” he said quickly, trying to defuse the situation, “really. I can handle it.” “I don’t think you should have to,” Isaac replied, not taking his eyes off the men who was getting angrier with each passing second.

That was enough. One of the adventurers surged to his feet, trying to shove Isaac’s shoulder. “Sit down and mind your business-” Philipp reacted instantly. The shove never fully landed. His hand caught the man’s wrist, twisting just enough to make him yelp as his balance faltered, landing face first on the ground.

The other adventures starred at their curving friend, their drunken brains trying to comprehend what had just happened. For a second, everything was quiet, before… the tavern erupted. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT YOU ASSHOLE!”

Chairs were scraped back. Someone cursed. A tankard hit the floor and shattered, ale splashing across boots and wood alike, as Joffrey and his remaining drinking buddies pounced on them. Isaac ducked as a fist swung past his head, his heart pounding - not with fear, but with a strange, electric rush.

He took a step back, before shoving the attacker away, sending him towards another approaching one. The two crashed against each other, cursing. Using the momentum, he quickly got closer to the duo and gave them a kick, before they could get back up again.

Another drunk lunged at Philipp, only to be swept off his feet and sent sprawling with a solid thud. The brunette glared down at him with a darkened gaze, his tail stiffing. “Out!” someone shouted from across the room. “Get ’em out!” someone jeered. “Quick, someone call the guards!” another man shouted.

Elliot, who had been dragged away by one of his female co-workers to a safer distance, was watching with wide eyes as the duo was dealing with them, speechless, his heart beating faster. He felt helpless, wanting to help out, but he knew that he would only be in their way, and it made him feel bad. All he could do was watch as they were fighting his fight.

“Damn it, there's only two of them, get yourse-” Joffrey didn't get any further, as Isaac gave him a targeted hit against his sternum, sending the ringleader of the group to the ground as well. Joffrey cursed as he hit the ground, blood spreading out of his nose.

The brawl was messy and loud but short-lived. Philipp moved easily around his last “attacker”, disabling rather than injuring him, as he gave him a controlled and precise blow at his neck, knocking him out instantly. Isaac hadn't been as refined as his friend, but he had been fast - dodging, pushing, using the chaos to his advantage.

Within moments, the drunks were on the floor groaning or being dragged away by other patrons who’d had enough with them. Isaac stood in the middle of the room, his chest heaving as adrenaline sings in his veins. He turned just in time to see Elliot staring at him with wide eyes. “Are you alright?” Isaac asked, stepping closer. Elliot nodded quickly.

“Yes. I- thank you. Both of you.” His voice softened, relief and gratitude mingling in his expression. “You didn’t have to do that.” Isaac opened his mouth to reply, only to get interrupted. “The guards!” someone yelled near the door. “The city guards- someone must’ve called them!” Philipp’s ears pricked sharply as he hastily turned his head to the door.

He swore under his breath and grabbed Isaac’s wrist. “We’re leaving. Now!” Isaac protested instinctively. “But-” “No buts,” Philipp pulled him back, already heading toward the rear exit. “I told you not to cause a scene,” he shouted, as he dragged the other away. Isaac glanced back one last time.

Elliot was still watching them, concern etched into his features, lips parting as if to say something - but the crowd swallowed him up before a single word could be exchanged. Then they were out the door. The relatively cool night air hit Isaac like a shock as they burst into the alley, boots pounding against stone as Philipp didn’t slow until they’d cleared two streets.

Shouts echoed behind them, the distant clatter of armored footsteps confirming Philipp’s fears. They ran. Laughter bubbled out of Isaac’s chest despite himself, breathless and exhilarated as they wove through familiar streets, the castle’s silhouette rising ahead like a dark promise of safety.

“You’re unbelievable,” Philipp muttered, “absolutely unbelievable.” Isaac grinned at him, eyes bright even as they finally slowed near the hidden entrance that would take them back to the gardens.

“Worth it, these drunkards needed to be taught a lesson and I couldn't just stand by and watch them doing evil deeds, you know that that goes against my principles. Besides… I wasn’t the one who hit first, Phil~” he said simply with a teasing undertone. Philipp shook his head, but his hand tightened briefly around Isaac’s wrist before letting go.

“One day,” he mumbled quietly, “your chivalry is going to get you into serious trouble.” And I might not always be there to protect you, he finished in his mind. Isaac glanced back toward the city lights, his thoughts lingering on a warm smile and kind brown eyes he hadn’t even learned the name of yet.

Isaac laid sprawled diagonally across the mattress in a position that would have made the court etiquette masters faint. One of his legs was tangled in the blanket, the other completely free, sticking out into the air. His arms were wrapped tightly around a pillow, cheek pressed into it. His blonde hair was a complete mess, strands sticking up in every direction, and his breathing was slow and even, soft little huffs escaping him, as he slept with an expression peaceful in a way that very few people ever got to see, utterly unaware of the day waiting just beyond his dreams.

Knock, knock A silent knock could be heard, followed by a familiar voice, as the door to his chambers opened with a quiet click. Philipp stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. He paused just past the threshold, hands clasped behind his back out of sheer habit, his posture straight despite the early hour.

His gaze lifted instinctively to the bed- and immediately softened, letting out a fond sigh. There it is again, he thought. No matter how many times he saw it, the sight always struck him the same way.

Isaac - who could hold himself with effortless grace before the court, who wore crowns and titles and expectations like none other - looked nothing like a prince when he slept. If one hadn't seen it oneself, one wouldn't believe it. Philipp walked closer, paying attention to not make any loud sounds.

He stopped beside the bed and looked down at him, his green eyes traced the unguarded lines of Isaac’s face, the way his brows weren’t drawn tight with responsibility, the way his mouth curved faintly, as if he were dreaming something pleasant. A small smile tugged at Philipp’s lips. “Your Highness,” he murmured quietly, “you really must stop sleeping like this.”

No reaction - not even a twitch. Philipp tilted his head, amused. “One day,” he continued softly, “you might be king and I will still know that you cling to pillows like a child.” Still nothing. The brunette sighed fondly and reached out, placing a careful hand on Isaac’s shoulder, giving it a gentle shake.

“Isaac. It’s morning,” he said more gently, dropping the formal tone. Isaac didn't care much for being addressed by his title, especially when the two of them were alone, and yet Philipp tented to do exactly that at first.

You never knew who was listening - even in the castle - and even though Isaac would’ve scolded him for it if he had heard it, he was still of low birth and had to at least pretend to maintain a certain "distance". Well, however, the blonde often ensured that this distance was quickly overruled and neither of them mind.

Isaac shifted slightly, pressing his face deeper into the pillow, a barely audible hum leaving his throat. “Mhm…” His grip tightened, as though the pillow might try to escape him. Philipp stared at him for a moment, then slowly shifted his gaze downward, to the bare foot peeking out from beneath the blanket.

“…Right,” he muttered, lips twitching. Guess he had no choice, but to do it after all. He hesitated for a brief moment - just long enough to consider whether he should keep trying to wake him properly - before he reached out, his fingers hovering for just a second, as if reconsidering it one last time, before lightly brushing them against the sole of Isaac’s foot.

The response followed immediately. Isaac let out a soft, startled giggle, the sound muffled by the pillow. His foot twitched away instinctively, toes curling, as his leg jerked beneath the blanket. Philipp froze, then smiled wider. “Well,” he whispered. He tried again, this time tracing a little more deliberately along the arch of Isaac’s foot.

Isaac laughed again, breathier this time, shifting restlessly. “Mhm- Phil…” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, “five more minutes…” Philipp chuckled under his breath. “Absolutely not. You’ve already had more than five. We have a tight schedule today and are already lagging behind. Wake up sleepyhead~”

He tickled him again, his tail wagging slightly, as his fingers fluttered along the sensitive skin, circling just beneath the toes. Isaac squirmed, pulling his leg back, only to get tangled further in the blanket, his laughter growing softer but more frequent.

“St- StoHohop ihHIt! PhiHIihl I’m- pffFt I’m aWahaHake!” Isaac laughed openly, a warm, sleepy sound that filled the room, quickly turning onto his back with a quiet groan, one arm flopping over his face in dramatic defeat. “You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered, his lips twitching as another giggle escaped him.

“Of course I am,” Philipp said calmly, withdrawing his hand at last, “you don’t respond to anything else.” The other peeked at him through his fingers, eyes half-lidded and unfocused but warm. “You’re the worst,” Isaac muttered, laughing despite himself. “Just you wait…” he said sleepily, “I’ll get my revenge.” Philipp raised an eyebrow. “I look forward to it. Now- up.”

Isaac sighed, but finally pushed himself upright, his blonde hair falling into his face as he blinked against the light. He stretched, joints popping faintly, and shot Philipp a look that was far more fond than annoyed. “You enjoy abusing your position far too much,” he said. Philipp only smiled.

...

By the time Isaac was fully dressed - layers of fine fabric settled neatly over his shoulders and hair hastily brushed into something presentable - another knock sounded at the door. Upon his approval, servants entered quietly, bringing in a lavish breakfast.

The smell hit first: Freshly baked bread and warm pastries, to this, butter, honey, a hand-picked selection of confitures, soft cheese, bacon, a cooked egg, fruits, and a steaming pot of tea. They moved efficiently, setting everything neatly in place with practiced ease, heads bowed and voices low.

Isaac sat at the table, posture perfect once more, every inch the crown prince, as he thanked them politely. Philipp remained at his side, silently observing them. Only when the door closed again did Isaac’s shoulders relax. He glanced at the table for a moment, then let out a small laugh. “This is absurd.” Philipp followed his gaze. “A balanced breakfast is important.”

“I need half of this,” Isaac replied. He looked up at him. “Sit.” Philipp hesitated. “Your Highness-” “Philipp,” Isaac interrupted gently, “please.” The blonde was staring at him intensively, not with the authority of a prince, but with the grin of a friend. "Also, how often do I need to tell you not to be so formal when it's us, sit now... or else..."

He made an unambiguous move with his hand, smiling at the other with that trademark grin he only ever showed around him. Philipp starred at his hand, then at him and let out a sigh. "Of course. Thanks for… the breakfast," he exhaled and pulled out a chair, sitting across from him, admitting defeat.

"What took you so long?~" Isaac teased with a smile, as he handed Philipp a bread roll, kicking the other playfully under the table. Philipp suppressed a chuckle, accepting it. "You know Isaac, you’re quite naughty today, didn't get too much sleep last night, eh?" he teased. Isaac laughed heartly at that.

The formality between them had eased instantly, replaced by something more comfortable. The prince thought for a moment, as the events of last night came back to his mind like a wild flood, circling around a certain ravenhead, his heart suddenly feeling strangely warm. “Speaking of that- Do you think we- mhmm!”

He didn't get any further, as Philipp had leaned forward, stuffing half a bread roll with butter and plum jam into his mouth. "We don't have time for that now. Let's go through today's schedule first, so..." he began, as he took a bite into his own piece of bread. Isaac nodded as he swallowed his own one behind, taking a sip on his tea as he listened to the other's words.

Strange, he thought, but decided to ask about it later, as the brunette was in his element right now. They shared bread, passed the honey between them and spoke softly about the day ahead. For a little while, it felt almost normal - it felt less like a prince and his guard and more like two young men stealing a peaceful morning.

...

Lessons followed soon after. History and politics filled the late morning, the tutor droned on and on about trade routes and treaties, parchment spread across the desk. “…The Griffon Trade Company is the largest trade guild of its kind with branches in every major city on the continent, its influence extends not only…”

Isaac listened attentively, nodding along and occasionally asking thoughtful questions. Philipp, who sat beside him… did not. Isaac noticed it gradually - the way Philipp’s gaze unfocused, how his head dipped just slightly. That’s… strange, Isaac thought, glancing sideways. Philipp never falls asleep during lessons. Ever.

He side-eyed him again, watching as his eyelids fluttered. Unnatural. Without looking directly at him, Isaac reached out and nudged Philipp’s side with two fingers. Nothing. Suppressing a grin, he tried again, lightly squeezing the other’s side a bit more eagerly. Philipp startled violently, choking on a quiet laugh as he jerked upright. “AhaHH!”

Isaac quickly withdrew his hand, feigning innocence as the tutor shot them a sharp look. “Is something amusing?” “No sir,” Philipp said immediately, flushing. “My apologies,” he mumbled and sat down again, his ears seeming to shrink away as he looked abashed to the ground. “Pay attention please.” The tutor seemed satisfied and continued his monologue.

Isaac bit the inside of his cheek, shoulders trembling, as he fought the urge to laugh. He offered Philipp an apologetic smile - one that only made Philipp shake his head slightly in silent accusation. But even then, Isaac could see it. The twitch of Philipp’s ear. And he smiled to himself. When the lesson finally had ended, Philipp pouted at the other.

"That was so mean, I got scolded because of you." Isaac looked at him with a fond smile. "Not my fault when you weren't paying attention. I've never seen that from you before. Is it because of last night? We didn't have the chance to talk about it at breakfast but I really want to-" He was once again interrupted by the other's actions.

"That’s not it, I just- …didn’t sleep that good.” He had said the last part almost inaudibly, as if trying to play it down, before he suddenly looked up. “A-Anyways, I’ll go prepare everything at the training grounds and have a quick word with Sir Raymond- you know how strict he is when being late," Philipp said and pushed the other gently to the side.

"But I-" "No "buts" now, I'll see you there," the brunette replied before he sprinted away. Isaac looked after him, rubbing the back of his neck. Philipp was defiantly acting not like himself today and that worried him. It wasn’t like him to lose his cool. He needed to get to the bottom of it.

Philipp stopped running once he was around the corner and out of sight. He let out a sigh, cursing at himself. He knew that he was acting suspicious, knew that Isaac had realized that something was wrong. But he didn't want to talk about said night, knowing exactly which spark had ignited in the blonde.

Though, he also knew that he couldn’t avoid the topic any longer. Isaac was damn good at seeing through things like this. He had escaped him twice, but he wouldn't allow it a third time. He had to mentally prepare himself and think of a solution.  The brunette ruffled his hair as he thought, before he had a flash of insight. Maybe that could work…

...

Philipp was already waiting when Isaac arrived, a wooden sword resting casually against his shoulder. “Late,” Philipp remarked lightly. Isaac snorted as he picked up his own practice blade. “Said the one who left me behind like a fool.” Philipp’s mouth twitched. “I needed to get everything ready, Milord,” he replied, doing a light bow.

“Surely not because you tried to get away from me… I also don’t see Raymond around?” Isaac said with a slight undertone. “Sir Raymond already left, said he'll join us another time,” Philipp explained, having made sure that the two of them would be undisturbed. They took their positions without further ceremony.

“Here I go,” Isaac exclaimed as he made the first move. The first clash of wood rang sharply through the garden. Isaac had moved fast forward, lighter on his feet than most expected, his blonde hair catching the sun as he pivoted and struck. Philipp met him head-on with a solid and grounded stance, deflecting each blow with practiced ease.

They circled each other, their blades snapping against each other in quick succession, the rhythm familiar enough that neither had to think too hard about it. Sweat beaded at Isaac’s temple as he pressed forward. “You’re distracted today.” Philipp parried, stepped back, then lunged. “You’re imagining things.” Isaac ducked the strike and countered. “Am I?”

Their swords locked for a moment, their faces only a few inches away from each other, their breaths slightly uneven. Isaac’s eyes flicked to Philipp’s face - searching for an answer he never got. “You never fall asleep during lessons,” Isaac continued, his voice low, as he pushed their blades apart. “Not once. And suddenly today-”

Philipp retreated quickly, nearly tripping over his own foot as he did. “I told you, I didn’t sleep well.” Isaac advanced. “Because you were thinking about last night?” Philipp squeaked - not eloquently, not defensively, just a small, startled sound as Isaac’s blade knocked his aside. “I- what? No!” Isaac paused. Philipp’s left ear twitched. Isaac grinned. “Liar.”

Philipp sputtered something incoherent, stepping back again- right into Isaac’s next move. With a sharp flick of his wrist, Isaac slapped Philipp’s sword clean out of his hand. The wooden blade hit the grass with a dull thud. The brunette barely had time to register it before Isaac lunged forward and tackled him.

They went down hard, the impact knocking the breath out of both of them as they rolled through the grass, laughter breaking out almost immediately. Isaac managed to get the upper hand, using his momentum to pin the other beneath him. The blonde straddled him, knees planted firmly on either side of Philipp’s hips, hands braced on his chest.

“Got you,” Isaac said triumphantly, breathless and grinning. Philipp blinked up at him for a second, dumbfounded. Before he could come up with any stupid ideas, Isaac made his next move. He dug his fingers into Philipp’s sides, causing Philipp to burst into laughter almost instantly.

“W-WaHahhiT?! AhAhhaAHA noHOho!” he yelped, twisting beneath him as the tickling hit all at once. Why tickling of all things? His laughter was loud, unrestrained, echoing across the garden as he tried to squirm away. “Talk,” Isaac said, laughing too as he kept his fingers moving, working along Philipp’s ribs in quick, relentless motions, “why were you distracted?”

Guess he didn’t have to think - his reactions were proof enough why Isaac decided to do it. “I waHAahsn’t d-diHhistracted!” Philipp protested between laughs, arms flailing uselessly as he tried to grab Isaac’s wrists. Isaac leaned forward slightly, making it impossible for Philipp to escape, and shifted his hands just a little higher.

“Don’t lie to me now Phil, we’ve been friends for so long, I know when you’re hiding something from me,” he teased, wiggling his fingers up into his armpits. Philipp shrieked, laughter breaking into helpless gasps.

“ThaHaht’s- stoHOHOp! AHahAHAH! CoHome oHOne,” he laughed, trying to clench his arms to his sides, which only made the ticklish feeling stronger. The blonde was enjoying this way too much and it didn’t look like he had planned to stop soon. “That’s a no,” Isaac replied cheerfully.

He varied the tickling, switching between quick, fluttering touches and firmer presses that made Philipp jerk and writhe beneath him. Philipp’s composure crumbled completely, his laughter dissolving into breathless pleas. “I s-sweHehear I juhuHuhst coHohouldn’t sleHehehep!” he laughed, tears of mirth forming in his eyes.

Isaac paused only long enough to raise an eyebrow. “Because?” he asked ande a claw with his hand, circling it dangerously close over his stomach. Philipp’s ear twitched again. The prince laughed and dug in, tickling even harder. “WHAHAHAHAHahh!” Philipp screamed with laughter, his legs kicking uselessly as he tried to roll away, only to be pinned more firmly.

His hands finally found Isaac’s sides, and he retaliated instinctively, fingers digging in wherever he could reach. Two could play this game. Isaac yelped, laughter bursting out of him as well. “H-Hehehey! ThaAhst’s- PffFt noHohoHo!” Philipp grinned wildly, despite himself. “You started it!” he teased, not stopping, feeling the other’s grip getting weaker.

For a moment, the tickling went both ways, as both of them tried to overpower the other, their laughter overlapping, breathless and bright and utterly unguarded. Isaac squealed as Philipp found a sensitive spot near his ribs, nearly losing his balance as he tried to keep the upper hand.

“NoHoho fair,” Isaac gasped, still laughing, “you’re supposed to be answering!” “I caHahn’t if you doHohon’t stooHop!” Philipp managed between wheezes. Isaac laughed and shifted tactics. His fingers slid upward, lightly brushing along Philipp’s neck before flicking at his ears. Philipp completely lost it. “ISAAHAHAHC! PLEHEHEASE!”

He twisted violently, laughter spilling out in helpless waves as his ears twitched under Isaac’s touch. They were his most ticklish spot. Heat shot into his face and he flushed, squeezing his eyes shut. The brunette tried to hide his ears with his hands, which only left his sides exposed again. Isaac took fully advantage of that.

While one hand continued to fumble his ear, thumb rubbing over the furry edge, his other hand kneaded his side, fingers squeezing into the soft spots in-between his ribs. The brunette was fighting on lost ground now and needed to call it quits. “Alright,” Isaac said, laughing so hard his voice shook, “last chance.”

Philipp gasped for air, laughter tearing out of him uncontrollably. “I- ehEheeh I thought you were hurt last night!” he managed to breath out. Isaac froze. The tickling stopped abruptly. Philipp lay beneath him, his chest heaving, laughter fading into breathless chuckles as he slowly opened his eyes. Isaac stared down at him, expression unreadable for just a moment.

“Hurt,” Isaac repeated quietly. Philipp swallowed. “You… didn't come back the same… And I- *sigh* I was worried that the fight had left... marks on you. I thought you didn't want to worry me and... well, yeah..." Was that good enough? For a heartbeat, the garden was silent. The two stared at each other, Philipp was the first who looked away.

Footsteps approached and Isaac jerked upright immediately, stepping back and offering a hand to Philipp. “I'm glad that you told me and that it wasn't something serious. You had me worried there. I can assure you that I didn't get hurt - I had you after all, Phil~”

Philipp took it without hesitation, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet just as a servant rounded the hedge. “Your Highness,” the servant said, bowing, “I was told to inform you-” “Training,” Isaac interrupted smoothly, “we were just finishing.”

Philipp nodded solemnly, trying- and failing to hide his lingering grin. The servant bowed again and left. Isaac exhaled slowly. They retrieved their swords in silence. And for the rest of the day, neither of them quite forgot what had almost been said.

The remainder of the day unfolded with relentless efficiency. Isaac moved from one obligation to the next - audiences with minor nobles, discussions of supply routes, a brief inspection of newly delivered goods from the southern provinces.

His posture was impeccable, his voice calm and steady, every movement precise. If anyone noticed the way his gaze sometimes drifted, or how his thoughts lagged a half-step behind the conversations at hand, they were polite enough not to mention it. Philipp stayed close, as always.

Outwardly, nothing had changed. He stood at Isaac’s side, attentively, responding when spoken to, anticipating needs before they were voiced. Yet something about him felt… tighter. Like a string drawn too taut. More than once, Isaac caught him watching him with a look that vanished the moment their eyes met.

By the time the sun dipped low and the halls began to glow with lamplight, exhaustion settled into Isaac’s bones in a way that had nothing to do with physical exertion. When he was finally dismissed for the evening, he returned to his chambers with a quiet sense of relief, glad that the day was over.

The servants helped him prepare for bed. Philipp remained near the door, his gaze respectfully averted as layers of formal clothing were removed and replaced with simpler and more comfier nightwear.

Once the servants bowed and left, silence filled the room again. Isaac stood near the window, looking out over the city. Night had fallen fully now, the streets below dotted with lantern light like scattered stars. Somewhere out there - beyond the palace walls, beyond the comfortness of his royal title - was the person he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.

He spoke without turning around. “I want to go back into the city tomorrow night.” Philipp stiffened. “What?” The word escaped him before he could stop it. Isaac’s reflection stared back at him faintly in the glass. His expression was thoughtful, but there was something unsettled beneath it - something that hadn’t been there before.

“To check on them,” Isaac continued quietly, “the person I saved.” Philipp took a step forward despite himself. “That’s not- Isaac, that’s dangerous. You can’t just-” “I know,” Isaac interrupted gently. He turned around, meeting Philipp’s gaze. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” Philipp opened his mouth to argue again, his hands curling slightly at his sides.

“You already did more than enough. They’re alive. The city guard-” “Doesn’t know what I know,” Isaac said. There was a strange look on his face now - not fear, exactly, but unease. As if something sat just out of reach in his mind, casting a long shadow. “I can’t explain it properly,” Isaac admitted, “but something felt… wrong. And it still does.”

Philipp searched his face, his own expression tightening. He wanted to protest- wanted to list every reason this was reckless, foolish, unacceptable. But he’d known Isaac long enough to recognize that look. Once Isaac set his mind to something like this, it wasn’t easily swayed.

Philipp exhaled slowly through his nose. “…Tomorrow night,” he said at last, “after everything’s quiet.” Isaac’s shoulders eased slightly. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me,” Philipp muttered, “I’m not happy about it.” A faint smile tugged at Isaac’s lips anyway. Philipp bowed, formal once more. “If that’s all, Your Highness.” “It is,” Isaac said softly.

Philipp turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with a quiet click. The corridor outside was dim, lit only by spaced lanterns that cast long shadows along the stone walls. Philipp walked briskly, thoughts churning, jaw set tight. Careless, he thought, absolutely careless. Lost in his frustration, he misjudged the turn and walked straight into the wall.

“Damn it,” he hissed, rubbing his forehead. He leaned back against the stone, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before letting out a quiet, irritated laugh. “…Idiot,” he muttered to himself and smiled.