Chapter 12: Handle Him

Aaron had stabilized. After the absolute chaos of the morning, the Crown Prince was finally resting in his bed like a proper patient instead of a man who had briefly decided to die on everyone. His breathing was steady, his pulse strong. The horrible darkness that had swallowed his face was gone, and those creepy veins that had crawled across his throat and collarbone had vanished like they had never existed.

He was still weak, of course. Weeks of sickness followed by nearly dying would do that to a person. But he was alive, and more importantly, he was recovering.

Asher stood beside the bed and watched him sleep, a small, smug smile tugging at his lips. For the first time since arriving at this ridiculous palace, he could actually breathe without waiting for the next disaster.

He had done it, Aaron was alive.

The thought made Asher’s chest feel strangely light. He glanced down at his injured palm. The cut had already stopped bleeding, though it still stung whenever he flexed his fingers.

His blood had saved the crown Prince, Asher couldn’t help the little smirk that appeared on his face.

Marcel was going to be so impressed.

Well. Maybe "impressed" wasn’t the right word. Knowing Marcel, he would probably stare at Asher with that terrifyingly calm expression and ask, very quietly, why Asher had nearly bled himself dry without permission.

Still. Asher was absolutely going to tell him. He could already imagine the conversation.

*I saved your vampire heart, and then I went and saved a human prince too. You’re welcome.*

Perhaps Marcel would finally understand that keeping Asher around was the best decision he had ever made.

Asher almost laughed at himself. Then he remembered the other important part. Money, lots of money.

King Eric had insisted on rewarding him for saving Aaron and exposing Reginald’s treachery. The king had practically forced a fortune into Asher’s hands despite his half-hearted protests that he had already been paid.

Half-hearted was putting it generously. Asher hadn’t exactly fought very hard. He had spent most of his life worrying about rent, food, and whether his landlord was about to throw his belongings into the street. Now he had enough gold to make that same landlord choke on his own rage. He was rich.

Asher looked down at himself. The same man who had arrived at the palace looking like he had been dragged out of a garbage pile now had enough money to buy several houses.

He grinned. Maybe he would buy a house in the lower district just to spite his old landlord.

No, even better, he would buy the entire building. Then he would walk up to the landlord, smile sweetly, and say, "Remember when you took my crystal ball?"

Asher nearly snorted. Unfortunately, his excellent fantasy was interrupted by a voice from the bed.

"You’re smiling."

Asher looked over.

Aaron was awake. His eyes were still tired, but there was considerably more life in them than there had been earlier. He shifted carefully against the pillows and looked at Asher with an expression that was almost amused.

"Was I?" Asher asked innocently.

"You were." The prince replied before attempting to sit up on the bed.

"I was thinking about something important."

Aaron raised a weak brow. "Money?"

Asher’s mouth dropped open "You are recovering far too quickly."

Aaron laughed softly, though the sound quickly turned into a small cough.

Asher immediately stepped closer. "Easy."

Aaron took a few careful breaths until the cough subsided. "I’m fine," Aaron said, but Asher wasn’t exactly buying that. He was literally dead a moment ago. However, before he could respond, the doors opened.

King Eric entered with several guards and servants behind him. His face looked completely different from the devastated man Asher had seen earlier. He still looked exhausted, but the relief was obvious.

The king walked straight toward Asher. "I had the guards prepare a carriage for your departure, and I thought it would be unforgivable if I didn’t thank you again for saving my son’s life."

Asher lowered his head in appreciation, not only had the king made him almost as rich as a noble, he had even prepared a ride for him. Asher couldn’t be more grateful, and he couldn’t wait to rub all of this in Marcel’s face.

Unfortunately, Aaron had other plans.

"You aren’t leaving."

Asher slowly turned, unsure if he had heard correctly. "What?"

Aaron was sitting against the pillows now. "You aren’t leaving," he repeated.

Asher pointed toward the door. "I actually am."

"No." Aaron replied.

"As the person who saved your life, I would like to inform you that my services are no longer required."

Aaron shook his head. "I’m not fully recovered."

"You look considerably better." Asher argued but the prince was stubborn like a mule.

"That doesn’t mean I’m recovered."

Asher narrowed his eyes. "You’re arguing with me. That’s usually a good sign."

Aaron ignored him. "You said yourself that my condition was strange. You don’t know whether whatever Reginald did to me has completely disappeared."

Asher opened his mouth then closed it. That was annoyingly reasonable, and he hated that it was.

Aaron continued, "Your duty is to make sure I recover completely."

Asher rolled his eyes and sighed. He really didn’t have much of a choice, and it was no use arguing, it was clear the prince wouldn’t let him leave just yet. "Fine."

Aaron immediately turned toward the maids. "Prepare a room for him. One that is close to mine, and close enough that I can easily reach him."

Asher stared at him, not entirely sure what the prince was up to. He had made a promise to Marcel, and he needed to be back before a week elapsed.

Aaron continued as though nothing strange had been said. "Have it prepared immediately."

The maids bowed and hurried away.

Asher watched them go before he slowly turned back to Aaron. "You know, when I agreed to stay, I didn’t realize I was becoming a permanent palace fixture."

"I understand that you’re nervous, but you’ll adapt, I promise." The prince replied with a smile, but Asher didn’t exactly find the situation funny, if anything, he was annoyed by it

***

Later that evening, after his belongings had been moved into his new room, Asher sat at the writing desk. The room was absurdly luxurious compared to anything he had ever owned. There was a large bed, thick curtains, polished furniture, a private bathing area, and enough space for him to walk around without hitting his knee against something.

Asher still wasn’t used to it.

He dipped his quill into the ink and prepared his thoughts. He had one very important thing to do, and that was to write to Marcel.

Dear Marcel,

I am alive.

Asher paused, then scratched that out. It sounded unnecessarily dramatic.

He tried again.

Dear Marcel,

Everything is fine. Aaron nearly died, then actually died, then I brought him back with my blood. His uncle tried to kill him and then killed himself, the king gave me enough money to make me rich, and apparently I have now been ordered to remain at the palace until Aaron fully recovers.

Asher stared at the sentence. Maybe he should leave out the part about being rich. No, Marcel needed to know.

He continued writing.

I know I promised to return, and I still intend to. Unfortunately, the prince has decided that I am now part of his recovery plan.

Asher paused. That sounded suspicious, but added another sentence to deterr the vampire lord from acting out.

Please don’t kill anyone.

He smiled. That should probably be enough.

He was about to finish the letter when the door opened. Asher looked up so fast, his quill nearly slipped from his fingers.

Aaron stood in the doorway, just staring at the fortune teller, and not exactly moving either.

Asher found that extremely weird, but he noticed something else. Somehow, the prince looked almost completely healthy. His face had regained its color, his eyes were clear, and the weakness that had plagued him only hours earlier seemed almost impossible to believe.

Asher stood quickly to address his uninvited guest. "What are you doing out of bed?"

Aaron closed the door behind him and walked forward. "Nothing is wrong."

That only made Asher even more worried. He narrowed his eyes, and asked. "Then why are you here?"

Aaron walked toward him. "To repay you."

Asher raised a brow. "You don’t have to, your father already rewarded me."

"My father’s rewards have nothing to do with me." Aaron returned, uninterested in the argument. He stopped directly in front of Asher. Then he reached into his robes and pulled out a ring.

It was beautiful. A simple but elegant band, made from dark metal with a small royal insignia carved into its surface. Before Asher could ask what the ring was for, or even react, the prince reached forward, grabbed his hand, and slid the metal down his index finger.

Asher almost punched the prince reflexively, but luckily he held himself back, then stared at the ring on his finger. "What did you just do?"

Aaron’s expression was strangely calm. "I told you I came to repay you."

"With jewelry?"

"With a promise." The prince replied before stepping closer. "You saved my life. You came into this palace when everyone else had given up on me. You saw things nobody else could. And even when I was dead, you still didn’t give up on me."

Asher swallowed hard, he could already tell where this was headed, and he didn’t like it one bit. "Aaron, what exactly is this?"

Aaron looked directly into his eyes, and without warning uttered two words. "You’re mine."

There was a brief silence after those words left Aaron’s mouth. Asher remained still, stunned by what he had just heard, and the simplicity of how the prince had just uttered them. He stared at the ring again, then at Aaron, then back at the ring, before face slowly changed.

"What?"

Aaron’s mouth curved into the smallest smile. "Consider it a declaration."

"A declaration of what?"

"That you will be my partner." Came a smooth reply that almost made Asher mad. No, he was already mad. The only reason he wasn’t punching Aaron and throwing his ring aside was because he was the prince, and they were currently in the palace .

Asher stared at him as though the prince had suddenly grown another head. "You can’t just put a ring on someone’s finger and decide they’re your partner."

"I can."

"No, you really can’t."

Aaron stepped closer. "I’ve seen what happens when you’re not beside me."

Asher went silent, and Aaron’s expression became serious. "For months, I dreamed of you. Every time you were beside me, I lived. Every time you disappeared, I died."

Asher’s throat tightened. "So?"

"So I’m not letting you disappear again."

Aaron lifted Asher’s hand slightly, looking at the ring he had placed there. "You said you wanted to return to Marcel."

Asher blinked surprised the prince already knew. But what was he to expect, king Eric didn’t exactly look like the type to keep a secret.

"Yes." Asher replied, and he saw the prince’s expression darken even if it was for a second.

"I’ll handle the vampire lord, for now just get used to this, okay?"

Asher didn’t reply, he couldn’t exactly speak. His gaze dropped to the ring once more, and then he finally looked up to the prince. He highly doubted the man before him could handle the vampire lord, but he didn’t say anything. He would still send his letter out to Marcel, and then he would wait to see the vampire lord’s reaction, and how exactly this pshyco of a prince would handle him.