A Fragile Truce

The next few days passed in a haze of uncertainty for Thomas. His interactions with Alexander were minimal, but the weight of their last conversation hung heavy in the air between them. The king’s words had struck something deep within Thomas, awakening feelings he had tried so hard to bury—feelings of confusion, resentment, and something dangerously close to desire.

As he wandered the palace halls, his thoughts refused to settle. Every glance from the servants, every murmur from the courtiers, reminded him of his precarious position. He wasn’t just a knight anymore. He was the king’s husband. The title felt foreign, like a cloak too heavy for him to wear. Yet, despite the discomfort, he couldn’t shake the memory of Alexander’s vulnerability—the way the king had quietly asked for something more than just duty.

Thomas found himself walking toward the royal stables, seeking solace in the familiarity of the horses. The scent of hay and leather greeted him as he entered, and for a moment, the tension in his chest eased. The stable hands nodded respectfully, giving him space as he approached his favorite steed, a black stallion named Nightshade.

As he stroked the horse’s mane, Thomas allowed himself to think—really think—about Alexander’s offer. Could they truly find something between them? Something that wasn’t born of resentment or obligation?

“You’re brooding again.”

The voice startled Thomas, and he turned to see Sir Aldric leaning against one of the stable posts, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not brooding,” Thomas muttered, turning back to Nightshade. “I’m… thinking.”

Aldric chuckled, stepping closer. “Thinking, brooding. Same thing in your case.”

Thomas sighed, his hand stilling on the horse’s mane. “It’s not that simple, Aldric.”

“It never is,” Aldric agreed. “But avoiding it won’t make it any simpler.”

Thomas turned to face the older knight, his expression troubled. “I don’t know what to do. Alexander… he’s not who I thought he was. Or maybe he is, but there’s more to him than I’ve allowed myself to see.”

Aldric nodded thoughtfully. “The king is many things, Thomas. Cruel, dangerous, cunning. But he’s also human. He has feelings, just like the rest of us. Maybe it’s time you stopped looking at him as only the king and started seeing the man beneath the crown.”

Thomas scoffed, though there was no real heat behind it. “Easier said than done.”

“Nothing worth having is ever easy,” Aldric said with a shrug. “But the question is, do you want to keep fighting this? Or are you willing to see where it leads?”

Thomas didn’t answer, but the question lingered in his mind long after Aldric had left. The truth was, he didn’t know if he was ready to stop fighting. All his life, he had been fighting—against circumstances, against his own emotions, and now, against the king himself. But was there any point in continuing the battle?

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the palace in hues of gold and crimson, Thomas found himself drawn to Alexander’s chambers. He didn’t know what he was going to say or do, but something in him compelled him to seek the king out.

When he reached the doors to Alexander’s private quarters, the guards stepped aside, recognizing Thomas without question. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, before he pushed the heavy doors open.

Inside, the room was dimly lit by the flickering flames of the fireplace. Alexander was seated at a desk, papers spread out before him, but his head lifted when he heard Thomas enter. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence thick with unspoken tension.

“Thomas,” Alexander said, his voice careful, as if he didn’t want to scare him away. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wasn’t sure I was coming,” Thomas admitted, stepping further into the room. His eyes flickered over the lavish furnishings, the fine tapestries on the walls, before finally resting on the king. “But I think we need to talk.”

Alexander set his quill down, turning his full attention to Thomas. “I agree.”

Thomas crossed the room until he was standing a few feet away from the king. The air between them felt charged, heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Thomas began, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “About trying.”

Alexander’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. “And?”

Thomas took a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. “I don’t know how to stop hating you. I don’t know how to forgive everything that’s happened—everything you’ve done. But I also don’t know if I can keep living like this. It’s exhausting, constantly fighting you, constantly fighting myself.”

Alexander stood slowly, his gaze never leaving Thomas’s. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Thomas. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But if there’s a chance that we can find something—anything—beyond the resentment and anger, I’m willing to try.”

Thomas swallowed hard, his emotions a tangled mess. He hated the king for all the pain and control he had exerted over him. But there was also something else—something deeper that he couldn’t quite name. The vulnerability Alexander had shown him, the quiet moments when the cruelty faded away, left Thomas more confused than ever.

“Julie wanted us to be together,” Thomas said quietly, his voice thick with grief. “She wanted me to take care of you. But I don’t know if I can.”

Alexander’s expression softened, and for the first time, he looked more like a man than a king. “She knew us better than we knew ourselves, I think. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this because of her. I want you to choose this—choose me—because you want to. Not out of duty.”

Thomas hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. For so long, he had been ruled by duty—duty to his sister, duty to the kingdom, duty to his own sense of honor. But standing here, looking at Alexander, he realized that there was a part of him that was tired of duty. A part of him that longed for something more—something real.

“I don’t know if I want that yet,” Thomas admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I think… I think I’m willing to find out.”

The silence that followed was thick with meaning. Alexander took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving Thomas’s. “That’s all I can ask for.”

For the first time since they had been bound together by Julie’s final wish, something between them shifted. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t love. But it was a fragile truce—an acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way through the shadows of their past.

As Alexander stood before him, closer than he had ever been without the weight of anger between them, Thomas felt something stir deep within him. It wasn’t desire, not yet. But it was something—something that felt like hope.

And for now, that was enough.

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