The Valeidio procession moved steadily through the dense, shadowed forest, the sun casting dim patches of light through thick branches overhead.
Sadiki stumbled along at the back of the group, his wrists tightly bound, his ankles chafing against the ropes. His heart felt heavy, twisted with regret, yet his captors didn’t care for his remorse, they looked at him only with disdain. With every step, he sensed their anger, their hatred. And beneath his guilt, he felt fear, an icy, clinging fear for his mother.
Was she still alive? Had Prince Carl already carried out his threat? Or was she... was she lost to him long before he even betrayed Prince Eirik?
The questions haunted him as he was dragged along, the guards jerking the rope tied to his bound hands, almost relishing the chance to inflict even the smallest discomfort. A guard tugged the line particularly hard, causing Sadiki to stumble, nearly falling face-first into the muddy path.
"Don’t slow us down, traitor," one of the guards sneered, his voice laced with disgust.
Another spat in his direction, and others whispered taunts under their breaths, voices thick with malice. Sadiki felt his face flush, not from sha, but from despair. These n were once his comrades, n he’d sparred and trained alongside, but now, to them, he was nothing more than a disgrace.
Ahead, riding on sturdy horses, King Xavian and his sons, Theron and Theo, looked back montarily. Their faces were set in cold disdain, unreadable but unmistakably condemning. Sadiki’s heart sank lower. They offered no rcy, no sympathy, just a brief, chilling glance before they turned back toward the path, resuming their journey.
Sadiki clenched his teeth, willing himself to stay on his feet as they pulled him forward. But his thoughts drifted, despite his efforts, to Prince Eirik, the man he had betrayed, the man who had once trusted him.
Sadiki knew he’d caused Eirik an unimaginable pain, a wound that wouldn’t easily heal. He had shattered the prince’s trust, and in doing so, he’d caused him to lose his own child. A pang of raw regret shot through him. Would Eirik ever forgive ? Could he ever forgive the man who tore his family apart?
And then his mind wandered to Drystan.
Drystan. The man who had helped him out during his heartbroken monts, his lover, his confidant, his other half.
Sadiki could still see the devastation in Drystan’s eyes, the deep hurt, the disappointnt. He’d seen the raw pain on Drystan’s face, a look that hurt more than any blade could.
As he walked, dragged along by hostile guards, mories sliced through him.
Sadiki closed his eyes, trying to block out the harsh reality of his present, allowing himself to sink back into mories of their happier tis, of the life they’d shared.
---
He could rember their training sessions vividly. In the early mornings, when the training grounds were bathed in the soft light of dawn, they’d spar together. There was always an unspoken understanding between them, one that allowed them to lose themselves in each other’s presence, to shed the roles of Prince Eirik’s guard and Prince Kaelix’s protector, and simply exist together.
Drystan would flash him that playful smirk, challenging him with a lift of his chin. "Co on, Sadiki," he’d taunt, circling him, sword held loosely but ready. "I’m not going to go easy on you just because you look handso today."
Sadiki would scoff, rolling his eyes but hiding a grin. "You’re just afraid you’ll lose," he’d retort, lunging forward. Their blades would clash, a steady rhythm of tal on tal, but it was more than a fight; it was a dance, one they knew well. They’d push each other, testing their limits, laughter mingling with the clinking of their swords.
Drystan had always loved catching Sadiki off guard with a quick sweep or a low kick, sending him sprawling in the dirt with a laugh. "Looks like I win again," he’d tease, offering his hand to pull Sadiki up, only to tug him forward into a kiss, uncaring of the onlookers.
Sadiki would huff and roll his eyes, but he could never suppress the smile that followed. Those monts were theirs alone, precious mories now forever stained by his betrayal.
---
Sadiki’s chest ached as he recalled the late nights when Drystan would sneak into his quarters. At first, it had been a rare occurrence, but soon enough, it beca a habit, Drystan unable to sleep unless he was by Sadiki’s side. Sadiki rembered the first night Drystan had co to him after a grueling day, slipping into bed beside him and letting out a sigh of utter contentnt.
"I don’t know how I ever slept before this," Drystan had whispered, his voice drowsy and warm, fingers tracing lazy patterns on Sadiki’s back. "I swear, it’s the best sleep I’ve ever had."
They’d fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, breaths mingling, hearts beating in sync. Sadiki had found himself waking up in the middle of the night just to watch Drystan sleep, to morize the soft lines of his face, the way his eyelashes rested against his cheeks, his relaxed expression.
But now, he would never have that again. He’d shattered it all, Drystan’s trust, their bond. He’d turned the love they’d shared into a mory, a ghost that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Another mory surfaced, one of Drystan’s more possessive gestures. Whenever Sadiki was caught up in conversation with other guards, Drystan would stride over without hesitation, tilting Sadiki’s chin up to kiss him, nothing brief, but a deep, claiming kiss, one that left no doubt in anyone’s mind who Sadiki belonged to. He’d pull back, grinning at the stunned expressions of those around them, then murmur in Sadiki’s ear, "Just staking my claim."
Sadiki’s lips would twitch, trying to hide a smirk. "Possessive, are we?" he’d tease.
"Only with you," Drystan would reply, his voice soft, his eyes fierce.
The sudden tug on his bound wrists jerked him out of his mories. He stumbled forward, nearly tripping over a root, his face dangerously close to the ground before he managed to right himself. The guard holding his rope sneered at him.
"Get up, traitor. Don’t slow us down."
Sadiki gritted his teeth, trying to keep his balance as they continued. Around him, he heard the whispers, the murmured insults, each one slicing through him as surely as a blade. His forr comrades looked at him with disgust, and he couldn’t bla them. But it was Drystan’s imagined gaze, the hurt in his eyes, that haunted him most.
Sadiki felt another rough yank, his wrists burning under the ropes. Ahead, King Xavian, Theron, and Theo glanced back only briefly before returning their focus forward, unmoved by his plight. Sadiki knew better than to expect pity from them. He’d betrayed the royal family in a way that could never be undone.
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