King Jahan laughed politely at the chaos unraveling before him. He found himself friends among the other rulers of the world, having never thought it possible for them to be together so joyfully. The Seven Kingdoms were not always a joyous place, and these Seven Kings did not always have the ease to laugh so freely together. They had united to stand with King Arthur, who required their aid for a prophecy. Jahan was the last to be recruited, yet he fit in quite easily, keeping pace with the other Kings as they enjoyed their merriment and banter. Despite this ease, Jahan was often on the side of conversations, observing his new companions rather than participating completely. He would laugh and smile in acknowledgement of what the other Kings said, but oftentimes he was silent, only joining his voice when he felt it was necessary.

Among the Seven Kings, however, one was more silent than Jahan, and that silent King fascinated Jahan more than the loud brashness of the other Kings.

The silent King among the group was King Ivan, a man known throughout the world as cruel and evil despite how the man appeared to be neither of those things to Jahan. The Kingdom of Snow, which King Ivan ruled, was a neighboring nation to that of the Kingdom of Sun, which was King Jahan’s domain. Despite such proximity, Jahan had very little knowledge of Ivan beyond the rumors which leaked from that mountainous and frigid region. All knew the tale of Ivan losing his parents at a young age, ascending the throne as a child, and eventually obtaining the power of absolute evil in order to prove his ability to rule his Kingdom despite his age. Jahan also knew that Arthur was the one to free Ivan from the bonds of evil which consumed him. Beyond this, all Jahan knew was what he could observe now that he was part of this royal union that Arthur had created.

From Jahan’s observations, he noted the following: Though Ivan appeared to have a cold exterior, he was kind and considerate and playful in his own way. There was newness to Ivan which intrigued Jahan, as though Ivan were only recently learning how to be a person. His stilted words and their flat delivery were often mocked by the other Kings, but it was clear that Ivan was trying his hardest to appear warmer though he struggled with doing so. To Jahan, this struggle was the reason for much of Ivan’s silence. Ivan seemed to enjoy spending time with the other Kings, yet he seldom expressed that joy with his face for fear of doing something wrong. All of this made Jahan want to know Ivan more, if only to help Ivan out of his shell.

After his initial assessment of Ivan, Jahan began to sit near him or next to him. If they were feasting together, then Jahan made certain to be seated as near to Ivan as possible. He knew that Ivan would barely talk to him, let alone would Ivan acknowledge his presence, yet Jahan insisted on being close to Ivan.

The other Kings were simple to read and get along with by Jahan’s standards.

King Arthur had a modest sense of humor and was earnest in spirit, making him amicable and anyone could easily befriend Arthur without much effort. Arthur was perhaps the most insightful among the other Kings, though his introverted nature was forced into extroversion the moment he pulled Excalibur free from the Sword Graveyard. Jahan noted a strange sorrow filled Arthur’s eyes at times but that was the only bit of interest that Jahan found within Arthur. The youngest among their group was King Chiwoo, who had a strange sense of humor due to his extraordinary circumstances but his warm and sensible disposition was genuine despite his mysterious past. King Dann was old fashioned and traditional due to him being the oldest of the group, yet he was dedicated and easy to please and ever the one to enjoy a good laugh even if it was at his expense. King Louis was outgoing and flamboyant and overly friendly, which meant he was the type to talk more than listen, yet his extravagance included excess that he shared with his friends as heartfelt gifts even if those gifts were unwanted. King Mujin was loud and Jahan found him annoying at times, but Mujin always tried to make others happy and his sincerity always earned Jahan’s respect even when Mujin’s desire to please others felt overwhelming. Ivan’s quiet and reserved nature paired with his somewhat cold exterior sat in direct contrast to the bombastic nature of the other Kings.

Every King was different in his own unique way, but the only one who piqued Jahan’s interest so cleanly was Ivan.

-----

One evening after the group of Kings had finished with meetings for the day, they parted ways until dinner was ready. Arthur had directed Dann to his study for a private conversation, Chiwoo and Louis were invested in a card game that Louis was winning (by cheating), and Mujin was laughing at Chiwoo’s frustration at losing to Louis. Everyone was engaged in their own little worlds, thus Jahan was the only one to notice as Ivan walked towards a balcony that overlooked a small garden within the walls of Camelot. They were all staying within Arthur’s castle for a couple of months to hash out details for alliances and treaties, as well as simply enjoy each other’s company, and their time together was nearing its end. Within a week they would depart for their respective Kingdoms once more. A poor observer would have seen Ivan’s exit as one of someone lonely and missing home, but Jahan knew better. Ivan’s gaze was up towards the twin moons as their light streaked in and out between wispy clouds in the sky. The scent of rain perpetually clung to the air, damp in its reminder that the Kingdom of Rain seldom had clear skies for long.

Jahan followed quietly after Ivan, his years of stealth training coming without thought to him. He watched as Ivan rested his palms against a cold stone railing, Ivan’s eyes drawn upwards before shutting as he let free a delicate sigh. The wind kissed Ivan’s pale skin in the cool moonlight and Jahan smiled at the sight.

“You seem wistful this evening,” said Jahan as his silent footsteps moved him next to Ivan.

Ivan made a small gasp, his eyes flashing wide as he looked to the man who seemed to appear from nowhere. “I do not know if ‘wistful’ is correct,” Ivan replied, blinking his gaze away from Jahan and back to the moons.

Jahan hummed, following Ivan’s gaze, “Then it’s Their light you’re appreciating. Though Their faces are not fully revealed, They send us Their silver light even when it is so weak.”

“The moons are comforting,” Ivan said quietly.

“You see Them a lot in winter, yes?” asked Jahan.

A small affirmative noise came from Ivan, his thin fingers gripping against the damp railing. “When I was little, my tutor told me that my parents’ souls had gone to the moons.” Ivan’s grip loosened and he lifted a hand, his finger pointing to the larger of the two moons. “My father went to that moon,” Ivan moved his finger to the smaller moon, “and my mother went to this moon. My tutor told me that my parents watched me every evening so they could protect me, even on nights when the moons are dark or even on cloudy nights.” His hand returned to the railing quickly, his grip tightening as his voice lowered, “It was a lie, but a comforting lie to a 6-year-old.”

Jahan nodded but said nothing, instead placing a warm hand atop Ivan’s to sooth away whatever emotion was bubbling within him. The hand stayed for only a few brief seconds before it was taken away and returned to Jahan’s side. This was the most he had ever heard Ivan speak when it was unrelated to politics. He had no desire to end Ivan’s freedom to speak to him.

“You spoke reverently of the moons,” said Ivan slowly, desperately wanting to change the conversation away from his family. “Do you worship them?”

“There are many Gods in this world,” Jahan spoke calmly, keeping his gaze up at the sky. “A Goddess allowed Arthur to become King. A God cursed Chiwoo with a broken Kingdom and divine imprisonment. It’s possible that a God crafted the vile crown that poisoned your mind. We all worship Gods in some form, though I worship the Sun. I am blessed as the King of Sun by Her will alone. However, I have been known to leave offerings to the Moons to thank Them for Their light at night. I leave offerings to the Stars as well.” Jahan let out a small laugh, taking his focus away from the sky and back to Ivan, “I suppose the answer to your question is that I do, indeed, worship the Moons.”

Ivan bobbed his head slightly, satisfied with the answer Jahan had given him before asking yet another question, “Are you blessed by the moons and the stars, too?”

Jahan furrowed his brow in thought before shaking his head, “I’ve been told that the reason my footsteps are so light is because the Stars steal their sound, but I doubt that’s true.”

“Then why do you follow me when you think I cannot hear or see you?” Ivan asked sternly.

A sigh left Jahan’s lips, “You are not the only person I observe, yet you’re the one who fascinates me the most. I quite like you for the mystery you give me.”

Ivan was dubious of this answer. “Your lands border my own. You won’t use what knowledge you gain to seize territory that isn’t yours, will you?”

“Why would I do such a thing?” Jahan asked indignantly. “If anything, my observations have made me wonder why we rarely do dealings at all. You have deep iron veins and exquisite leather works that put my artisans to shame. My lands are rich in gold and gemstones that your countrymen have likely never seen such quantities of. Truthfully, I have wondered all this time if I should propose a trade agreement between our two Kingdoms. In exchange for your land’s fine venison, I can offer fresh fruits that you have never tasted before. Your lumber would be most appreciated, and our vibrant dyes will make your clothing brilliant in any light.”

A single finger tapped against the cold, damp railing as Ivan thought deeply about the proposition given to him. “I would have to speak with my advisors back home, but what you propose seems... more than adequate.”

With a swift nod, Jahan smiled and said, “I will do the same. Once I have written up a formal proposal, I shall send it with great haste to your palace in the mountains and we can enjoy sharing in the riches of each of our lands.”

Ivan nodded at this before the sound of hurried feet pattered to the door where the men had entered the balcony. Out of breath, Chiwoo halted and waved for the two men to come to him. Curious to know what caused the man to run so hastily to find them, Jahan and Ivan walked over to the aid of the King of Clouds, only for Chiwoo to bounce upward like a bolt and cry out, “Dinner is ready! We’ve been looking for you both for ages!”

The two Kings who had spent such a nice, quiet evening together looked to each other silently, both having forgotten about dinner at all.

Chiwoo quirked an eyebrow at them both, “I can’t believe the two quiet guys went outside into the quiet night and... did what? Stand quietly together doing nothing?”

Ivan and Jahan looked to each other, stifling their laughter as Chiwoo puffed out his cheeks, confused.

“Just come along,” Chiwoo huffed. “If we don’t hurry, then everything will be devoured before us!”

Jahan mumbled something to Ivan which elicited a light laugh, but Chiwoo took no notice. Instead, he gripped the wrists of the two missing Kings and playfully dragged them back to the great hall where they all could partake in their meal.

-----

A series of correspondences were sent between Jahan and Ivan in order to coordinate a trade negotiation that would be beneficial to both parties. Details were swiftly hashed out and a delegation from Ivan’s homeland, the Red Snowfield, departed to meet with Jahan at his palace in the capitol of the Sea of the Desert. Jahan anticipated Ivan’s arrival with excitement and nervousness. Though this was not the first time he had taken on the task of welcoming foreign dignitaries, it was the first time he had welcomed one with whom he had a friendship.

Woven amongst those letters of political correspondence were private letters meant only for the eyes of each King. To Jahan’s surprise, Ivan was the one to initiate this ritual of sending private letters. Ivan’s first letter was simply asking if Jahan was well and included a black raven feather from Ivan’s favorite pet raven. Jahan had no idea that Ivan kept pets of any kind, let alone a pet as intelligent as a raven. In response, Jahan reminisced about a pet lizard he once had before it was sadly let loose on accident and never seen again. The content of the letters were lighthearted in nature, Jahan knowing that mention of Ivan’s family should be avoided. Topics instead ranged from exchanging silly poetry to sending pressed flowers to irreverent pictures they doodled to make the other laugh. Jahan wanted the letters to bring Ivan joy, knowing well that the King of Snow had lived a difficult life. Jahan hoped that his letters were bringing a smile to Ivan’s face, even if he could only envision that smile in his mind.

The promise of seeing Ivan and his entourage meant that Jahan would soon see Ivan’s smile made real before him as he had dreamt of.

Ivan arrived at midday, the heat of the summer sun burning down on him. Jahan expected Ivan to arrive with many servants, yet he only brought one. The rest of Ivan’s party was a few of Ivan’s personal advisors. Even with fewer attendants than Jahan expected, they were all welcomed warmly and shown through the lavish palace while Jahan’s servants attended to the horses and luggage. The closeness of the border between their lands was meaningless when that border was along mountainous terrain. Ivan’s party had to journey from his mountain castle towards the sea, voyage by boat to one of the many port cities of the Kingdom of Sun, and then had to traverse towards the center of the Sea of the Desert to arrive at the oasis home of Jahan. It was a long and arduous trip, and by the looks on the faces of Ivan’s entourage, they were all quite exhausted. The tour of Jahan’s home was finished quick to allow the visitors to relax wherever they wished before meal time.

“May I bathe somewhere?” asked Ivan innocently.

Jahan laughed gently, “Of course. I shall have servants draw a bath for you in your bed chamber.”

“A cold bath, please,” Ivan added quickly.

A nod was offered as reply by Jahan and he gestured for two servants to do exactly as Ivan requested. “May I offer you something cold to drink in the meantime? This kind of heat must be dreadful for you. Perhaps we should have waited until near the autumn time to meet.”

Ivan shook his head, “Then it would be torturous to return home. The frigid winters make it difficult to travel with the deep snow and icy winds.”

A hum left Jahan’s throat before he said quietly, “Our Kingdoms are truly opposites, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Ivan said softly, “they truly are.” He glanced out a large open window into a beautiful green courtyard, a hot wind blowing gauzy draperies up to obscure the view. “A cold drink while we sit in the courtyard would help to relax me before my bath.”

“Wait outside,” Jahan said with a kind smile. “I will bring something to drink for us both.”

Wordlessly, Ivan watched as Jahan walked away, leaving the King of Snow to move outside without supervision. Though the sun was hot, the courtyard had a fountain helped to chill the wind a bit and the foliage from the plants afforded ample shade. Ivan sat on a stairway that led down to the gardens, enjoying the view completely. Plants of all varieties grew vibrantly, the sun making the colors glow like lanterns. At the center was a large fountain with blue waters bubbling merrily, glittering sunlight against everything around it like daytime stars. Ivan’s castle had nothing like this on its premises, and even if it did then winter would only devastate the flora and freeze the fountain.

A chilled glass was set next to Ivan’s body on the steps, and soon Jahan joined him in sitting on the cool marble tile. “Fresh fruit juice made from a nearby orchard,” Jahan explained as he held up his own ornate glass. Sunlight illuminated it like a jewel.

Ivan nodded, lifting his drink and taking a cautious sip from it. A hum of approval left him as he drank a large gulp of the liquid before speaking, “What a refreshing flavor! What fruit did you say this was?”

Jahan laughed lightly, “It’s a mixture of many fruits, but the dominant flavor is citrus.”

“It is, yes,” Ivan said, holding up the drink to ponder it fondly. “There are other flavors, too. Strawberry and apple, but also the flavor of fruits I’ve never tasted before.”

“I can have it bottled and sent with you for your journey home, if you like,” said Jahan.

“Yes, please,” Ivan replied excitedly. “Even if it only lasts until we arrive at port, it would be a welcome treat for the long trek. Thank you for offering me this.”

“You’re welcome,” Jahan said with a smile. “How do you like the garden? It’s one of many that I arranged to have built here.”

Ivan smiled lightly, “It’s beautiful. Everything here is beautiful. I know you were integral in designing this palace, but I never dreamt it would be so lovely. Louis’s opulent chateau is far too gaudy and filled with too much glamour, but your palace has a simple elegance that is much more sophisticated. It’s pleasing.”

“Thank you,” Jahan said, a bit embarrassed by the praise. “The design of it was for my brother before he abdicated. I never wished to change the design because I felt it was adequate as it was. Its simplicity makes it easier for future Kings to decorate or add to it.”

“I see,” said Ivan slowly. “Would, um... it be rude of me to ask why your brother abdicated?”

Jahan laughed lightly, shaking his head, “Not at all. He wished to dedicate himself to the Sun Temple as one of the monks, seeing it as his true calling and not kingship. Though I had a similar upbringing to my brother’s, my intention was to become part of the King’s Guard and not the actual King himself.”

“This is why you are so stealthy, yes?” Ivan asked.

“It is,” Jahan confirmed. “I’m not as strong in martial prowess as you are, but I learned well to handle myself in a fight. On the other hand, I also learned poetry and strategy and history, just as any good prince should. The Sun chose my brother to be Her voice while I was chosen to be Her will. I can only pray that She sees my efforts even if I do not hear Her voice as my brother does.”

Ivan took a long drink from his juice, keeping quiet for a length of time. The space between words ended when Ivan observed thusly: “You’re far more spiritual than I would have assumed. I lost my reverence for the gods long ago.”

“I don’t fault you for it,” Jahan said gently. “You suffered many great tragedies which made you lose the need for Gods. Even if that wicked crown Arthur destroyed was crafted by an equally wicked God, belief has no meaning if you do not feel the presence of the Gods in your life. For you, it felt like They abandoned you, yes?”

Ivan nodded, glancing down at his drink. “If the gods were so loving and benevolent, then they wouldn’t inflict tragedy on anyone.”

“The Gods are more complex than that,” Jahan sighed. “It is by Their fickle nature that I sit on the throne and not my brother. I would never call the Gods loving and benevolent, at least not all of the time. They are like us, with hearts and personalities that change with time. Just as you or I can be happy in one moment and sad in another, so too can the Gods waver in demeanor. They are not stagnant, just as the world itself is not stagnant.”

“Then what is the point of worship if they change their minds as often as we do?” Ivan asked bitterly.

“To gain Their blessings is better than to endure Their curses,” Jahan answered calmly. “Chiwoo can attest to that, I would say.”

“A god cursed him because he defiled a mountain,” Ivan scoffed. “It did nothing to quell his selfishness.”

“I think it did,” Jahan countered. “Before his imprisonment, he thought only of his own ambitions and did whatever he pleased in order to obtain his childish desires regardless of whatever stood in his way. Now, though, he thinks of his friends before making decisions.”

“He still dislikes the gods.”

“As is his right,” Jahan continued. “He felt the wrath of a God and it made him despise the Gods, just as you despise Them for ignoring you when you needed Them most. You owe nothing to the Gods because They did nothing for you.”

“Yet you still dedicate yourself to them,” Ivan frowned before downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass aside.

“I see the work of the Gods all around me every day,” said Jahan as he looked out over the garden, “and it fills me with the warmth of Their blessings. I have a feeling that we shall always be on opposite sides of the theological debate, but I don’t want you to think that I hate you because of your disbelief. I’m not going to force you to join with me for morning or afternoon prayer. All I ask is that you not resent me for my belief.”

Ivan was silent briefly before he chuckled lightly, turning to look at Jahan as the wind rustled through his hair. “How could I ever hate you for something like that? If it’s important to you, then you should indulge in it. In the mornings, I usually read or practice my singing. In the afternoons, I enjoy playing games by myself. While you are praying, I will do those activities as I always do, so long as they do not offend you.”

Jahan shook his head, “None of those would offend me at all. If I could hear you sing, then it would be a blessing to my ears.”

A blush pinked Ivan’s cheeks and he looked away, coughing the warmth away, “Then... I shall go to my bed chamber and take a bath, as I said I would. Thank you again for the drink and the joy of your conversation.”

“Of course,” said Jahan as he smiled for Ivan. The image of Ivan blushing was affixed to his memory and he adored it greatly. “I shall call for you when dinner time is upon us. Please enjoy your bath.”

Ivan nodded as he got up and walked back into the palace. He stopped suddenly at the door before returning to Jahan and speaking in a soft, sheepish voice, “I don’t remember where my room is.”

Jahan laughed, getting up and waving Ivan near him, “Stay close to me and I’ll show you the way. Your room is next to mine.”

Together, they walked quietly through the wide and bright hallways of Jahan’s palace as Ivan made mental notes of markers to indicate the direction he needed to go the next time he needed to find his room. Jahan guided him effortlessly to the bed chamber that was Ivan’s for the month they would be together, and gestured to a blue door with a golden sun painted on it that was adjacent to Ivan’s room. Without any words exchanged, Ivan understood that blue door marked the King of Sun’s bed chamber. Gentle smiles were given before Ivan slipped into his room, leaving Jahan to linger outside briefly outside Ivan’s door before he walked away towards the main wing of the palace to oversee arrangements for dinner.

-----

Trade negotiations went extremely well, completing in less than two weeks. All that truly needed to be done was to revise some of the language on the documents and sign them. The swiftness of the negotiations meant that Ivan and his entourage could spend the rest of their time relaxing in the sunny warmth of Jahan’s home.

The palace was a sprawling delight for the eyes, with so many areas to explore that Ivan wondered if there were locations on the property that Jahan forgot existed at all. The main house where Jahan worked and slept was quite large in itself, filled with many rooms which had specific functions and a full library and more bedrooms than Jahan had servants. Even the servants’ quarters were spacious, allowing for even the lowest worker in the house to have an area of privacy for themselves after a hard day.

For two days straight, Ivan spent morning and afternoon prayers exploring the vast labyrinth of Jahan’s home, finding empty rooms waiting for someone to fill them. It seemed a waste of space, but Ivan remembered that Jahan designed the palace with the needs of future Kings in mind. Those future Kings would likely have wives and children, which Jahan seemed uninterested in. Ivan had always heard stories that the Kings of the Kingdom of Sun had many spouses and large families, yet Jahan had no family beyond his mother and brother. Just as Ivan seldom talked of his family, Jahan was equally uninterested in explaining his family to anyone unless he was explicitly asked. It was assumed by all that Jahan had the least complicated family life out of the Seven Kings, yet he rarely divulged anything about them. This made Ivan very curious.

One warm evening, Ivan read a book by a window as a cool breeze flickered the flame in the small oil lamp set on the table near him. The breeze was inviting and held the promise of rain. Jahan mentioned earlier while they observed thick clouds gather overhead that rain in the summer was a good omen to his people. As Ivan inhaled the moist air, the gentle clink of a tray drew his attention to the side. Jahan had joined him, bringing tea and small sweets.

“Louis has sent me gifts,” said Jahan as he poured tea for Ivan. “He may be a narcissist but everything he sends is exquisite.”

After setting his book aside, Ivan nodded and accepted the tea after it was poured, taking a small sip from it. “This is quite fragrant. I expect nothing less from a man from the Rose Garden. There is clearly rose in this.”

“Is it bad?” asked Jahan.

“No,” Ivan answered, picking up one of the pastries and looking it over, “it just has a flavor outside of my normal comfort.” He sniffed the pastry, laughing lightly, “Even this cookie smells of rose.” The scent of it did not dissuade him from eating the cookie whole and washing it down with tea.

“Everyone has their tastes,” Jahan hummed while he poured himself some of the tea. “I often wonder if Arthur’s veins are filled of nutmeg with how much of it has adds to everything.”

“He grew up without many spices to season his food with,” Ivan mused, “thus it makes sense that he would have a favorite among them now that he’s had the opportunity to try so many. I can’t imagine what his life was like before.”

“It was likely plague and starvation before,” Jahan said as he sipped his tea. Just as Ivan said, it reeked of rose but was pleasant to imbibe. “The Goddess of the Lake chose him wisely. Allowing Arthur the life of a peasant has meant that he can enact laws which help the poor instead of hinder them.”

Ivan smiled at this, “He is perhaps the kindest of us all.”

A cookie was lifted to Jahan’s lips, yet it hovered there as he looked at Ivan. The cookie was set down gently while Jahan spoke slowly, “Kindness can be easily cultivated. Do you wish that you were kinder?”

“I do,” said Ivan as his smile weakened. “However, my legacy will be that of cruelty no matter how many good deeds I cultivate before my death. I made so many suffer in order to hide from my own insecurity.”

“It was not your fault,” Jahan said in a comforting tone. “You were corrupted by evil magic. Even if history records you as the cruelest King to ever live, all of us who have known you will attest to your kindness.”

Ivan set his teacup down, gazing bitterly at it, “I made the decision to become cruel. Every decision was a thought I had in my mind that I acted upon, no matter how cruel those thoughts were. Every malicious and terrible deed I performed was something I did with my own will.” A mirthless laugh freed itself from Ivan’s lips, “The Black Crown only made it easier for me to enact those tragic decisions. The regret I feel is not kindness, Jahan.”

Silently, Jahan lifted himself from his seat and knelt down before Ivan. With great care, Ivan’s hands were scooped up within Jahan’s, their skin tones clashing pleasingly as Jahan soothed away the angry heat from Ivan. When Jahan felt that Ivan was a bit calmer, he finally spoke, “I do not pretend to know what cruel deeds you performed. I only know of what I heard from others. In truth, I never cared to know what you did in the past. From the moment I saw you, all I could think about was how lovely you are.”

Ivan’s gaze lifted, his lilac irises focused keenly on Jahan’s brilliant green eyes as they shimmered in the flickering lamplight.

“I had never met someone with skin so ivory white as yours before,” Jahan continued, “and how your ebony hair perfectly framed your face intrigued me. Your eyes, like a fragrant summer flower in full bloom, haunted me instantly. I thought you were a specter come to whisk me to a far away paradise or perhaps trap me within your gaze for eternity. Even after I learned your name and reputation, I remained interested in you not for abstract atrocities but because I was enthralled by the melancholy settled so deeply within your eyes. You had a story written all over you, and I desperately wanted to read every word of your tale.”

Understanding slowly dawned over Ivan as Jahan spoke, the King of Snow filling with emotions he had no words to describe because he had seldom felt them before. Ivan’s hands trembled lightly beneath Jahan’s touch and Jahan let go, standing up to gaze down at Ivan. To his sight, Ivan looked like a fearful rabbit ready to scurry into a bush, which made him feel ashamed to have said anything at all. Jahan mumbled an apology, turning away slightly only to feel a tug at the hem of his shirt.

“If you learn my story,” Ivan whispered, his eyes having fallen back to his lap as his hands fell to clasp nervously together, “then you’ll leave me. You would never want to see me again.”

Jahan returned to his seat quietly, picking up the cookie he previously discarded and inspecting it before speaking in a low voice, “When I was 7 years old, I murdered my uncle because my father asked me to.”

Parts of words sputtered from Ivan’s lips before he settled on asking, “Why would he ask that of a child?”

“To prove my loyalty,” Jahan mumbled, shoving the cookie into his mouth.

“That’s cruel,” Ivan said softly, “but I do not blame your father for such paranoia.”

“My uncle was not the only one I killed for the King,” Jahan said, his voice a bit louder as his expression grew uncharacteristically harsh. “To maintain my father’s affection, he had me join a special division of the military as a child so that I could receive training in the most effective ways to silently murder. I was my father’s personal assassin for anyone he deemed a threat because he knew that my loyalty was unmatched. That is why the rumors of your cruelty do not dissuade me from wishing to be close with you. Whatever evil deeds you’ve done in the past, I have likely done similar.”

Ivan took a drink from his tea, taking a moment to ruminate on the information Jahan had given him. Though the circumstances were different, Jahan had a background of death that followed closely to Ivan’s past. Such a revelation was something intimate being entrusted to him, and Ivan felt strangely burdened by the knowledge. He wanted to learn about Jahan’s family, but not like this.

“We all assumed that you had a simple and carefree childhood,” Ivan finally said, exhaling carefully as he spoke. “You live in a paradise that betrays the hardships clearly etched on your face.”

Cautiously, Ivan drew a hand across the small end table, his long fingers tracing the scar that trailed down the side of Jahan’s face. The scar was jagged and likely made by a dull blade as it slid down to end at Jahan’s jaw. Ivan could feel that a chunk of bone had been carved out from the jaw bone, and he wondered whose desperate final act this was to imbed itself so deeply into flesh and bone.

Jahan accepted the touch, unflinching as he allowed Ivan to place his fingers against the mark upon his face. It was not the only scar on Jahan’s body, but it was the only one that anyone could easily see. He was rarely ever asked about it, and when the topic was brought up Jahan usually lied about its origin. However, he knew that if Ivan asked him about that scar, then there was no chance of him lying. Jahan wanted to give Ivan every truth he held hidden in his heart.

Realizing what he was doing, Ivan suddenly retracted his hand, letting out a mumbled apology as he settled his hands back in his lap.

Jahan laughed lightly, shaking his head, “You have such a delicate touch. I wonder if that is what it feels like to be touched by a snowflake.”

“The snow is cold,” Ivan said quietly. “The wind bites like the teeth of wolves and howls beastly at night.”

“I wonder if you were like a wolf before we met,” Jahan mused, taking a sip from his tea. It was cool now, yet the flavor persisted despite the temperature.

Ivan rose an eyebrow at this, “That seems an odd statement to make.”

Jahan smirked, “I say as such because not moments ago you were much like a timid rabbit.”

“A rabbit,” Ivan said, looking down at his hands. “If I am a rabbit, then what are you?”

“A bear,” Jahan chuckled, making his hand into a claw and playfully snarling.

“Goodness,” Ivan laughed softly. “I hope you don’t gobble me up! If you try, then I shall hop away quickly.”

Jahan took his clawed hand and reached over, tickling Ivan on his side. Ivan squirmed, giggling and scurrying out of his chair. At this, a chase began, Ivan laughing and crying out about not wanting to be eaten while Jahan raced after as he made childish roaring sounds. They raced into the garden, the clouds above making the night gloomy as it obscured the path before them. Once Ivan reached the fountain, he stopped to find the best direction to run in, but his pause allowed Jahan to reach him. Jahan’s arms wrapped around Ivan’s thin waist, pulling him into a playful hug as they both fell to the ground, laughing. They sat up, their backs resting against the cool fountain as they caught their breath, both having quickly forgotten the serious conversation they had only moments before. It seemed unimportant now that they were outside, their bodies close enough to feel each other’s heat. As they sat there, regaining their vitality, a droplet of water fell against Ivan’s hand. That droplet was followed by more and more until the sky poured upon them like a flood. Jahan laughed and stood up, his arms wide as he allowed the rain to drench him.

“We are blessed this evening,” said Jahan as he lifted his hands to the sky as though greeting the rain and thanking the clouds.

Ivan stood up, looking at the rain a bit before tugging at Jahan’s shirt sleeve. “Come on. We must get inside or we’ll catch cold.”

Reluctantly, Jahan lowered his arms, acknowledging Ivan’s words and going back inside the palace. As they walked, Jahan felt a damp hand grip gently against his own. There was no need to look down to identify whose hand it was; Jahan simply squeezed the hand lightly as they walked back into the warm lamplight of the palace. Once inside, Ivan loosened his grip and pulled his hand away, allowing Jahan the freedom to light a fire for the pair to sit near as they dried off. The tea and sweets were relocated to their new location before the fire, and a blanket was draped over their bodies as they made light conversation while sharing chaste touches beneath the blanket.

In his heart, Ivan was still fearful of whatever emotions were swirling within him, yet he knew one thing for certain: Being with Jahan made Ivan very happy.

-----

The rain stayed for three days, drenching the world around in gray tones. Jahan called the rain a blessing, but for Ivan the true blessing was being able to spend time alone with Jahan. Being unable to enjoy activities outdoors meant that they had to stay inside, and Ivan often found himself in Jahan’s study, reading books or singing for Jahan as he did his work. Jahan enjoyed the distraction as Ivan taught him folk songs from the Kingdom of Snow. Before afternoon prayers one day, Ivan shared a few swear words in his native tongue which Jahan delighted in learning. In the evenings, after dinner, the two would retreat to Ivan’s bed chamber, talking about whatever topic came to their minds, no matter how strange or absurd. They laughed softly and whispered giddily like children and held each other’s hands as though they were precious items worth more than anything else in the world. They talked until they grew tired and parted ways for the evening, Ivan waving Jahan off as he walked the short distance to his own bed chamber.

Within the darkness of his bedroom while the rain tapped its melody upon the world outside his window, Jahan named the emotion that tugged at his heart but he dared not to utter it aloud.

Once those three wet days ended, the sun quickly dried up the moisture that the rain clouds had offered and the skies returned to being spotless blue. The sun’s return was bitter for Jahan, as it meant that soon Ivan would journey back to the Red Snowfield, leaving him in heartache. Jahan cursed himself for naming the emotion as now it called keenly to him, mocking him for having identified its true name. Ivan would travel north to his homeland, and Jahan would have to ease the pain within him by sending letters to Ivan and praying they arrived safely.

The day before the delegation from the Kingdom of Snow was to leave, Ivan joined Jahan for both morning and afternoon prayers. Though he only sat and watched, Ivan wanted to view this part of Jahan’s life that was so clearly important to him. Ivan often wondered if Jahan’s brother was the one who imprinted such deep reverence for the gods onto him, though he was fearful to ask something like that. Religion was always such a taboo subject, especially when the Seven Kingdoms all worshiped different gods in different ways. In the Kingdom of Snow, religion permeated deeply within the people as they revered Father Snow. Father Snow was a god of war and the ruler of winter; he rode a black chariot driven by silver horses which brought down the North Wind upon their icy hooves. Churches for Father Snow were all over the Red Snowfield, and though Ivan had no faith in the gods, he wore religious symbols on his jewelry and clothing which evoked the idea of the church to prove that he was sanctified by something holy. Ivan used the church and Father Snow’s iconography as proof of his power and rightful lineage as a monarch, and he displayed those symbols upon himself despite his lack of faith. Without the Black Crown upon his head, it was all Ivan had as divine proof that we was truly meant to sit upon the throne. As he sat next to Jahan, looking up at the religious iconography of the Cult of the Sun, Ivan thought deeply about the symbols he used to prove his power. The only symbol that was truly his own was that of the double-headed black eagle, which Ivan had designed to represent the power his parents held for him in his memory.

When afternoon prayer ended and the pair seated themselves for dinner, Jahan asked Ivan what he thought of his visit to the Sea of the Desert.

“I enjoyed myself greatly,” Ivan replied. “I feel that I know your country and its customs better. You eat with your hands and sing praises to the sun each morning and afternoon. I enjoyed all of it.”

“I’m glad,” said Jahan, “and I truly appreciate that you joined me for my prayers today. You didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s important to you,” Ivan said with a gentle smile. “If I want to know everything about you, then I must know even that much.”

“And I would like to know everything about you,” Jahan laughed lightly. “I wished to ask this before, but may I visit your home sometime? I’ve heard that snow which falls upon the Red Snowfield has a red tint to it because the soil is forever stained by blood spilled during the countless wars waged there.”

Ivan laughed politely at this, waving a hand dismissively, “Oh, no, that is not why the snow has a red tint to it! That’s the folk tale, but the truth is that the soil is rich in red clay. We use that clay for roof tiles and to create ceramics, but the ancient stories remain and have clearly traveled beyond our borders.”

“That makes far more sense!” Jahan exclaimed. “I cannot wait to see those ceramics being sold in markets all across the Sea of the Desert!”

“I’ll send you samples as a gift for the winter solstice,” Ivan smirked. “Do your people celebrate the winter solstice? I feel that you must, as you use solar calendars and worship the sun.”

Jahan nodded, “We do, though we don’t call it the winter solstice. I now wonder how you celebrate such a season when it’s so dark and cold that going outside would be impossible.”

“We celebrate with bonfires if the snows do not hinder such things,” Ivan explained, “but if the weather is too foul, then we celebrate indoors with festive trees decorated with candles. We drink alcohol, as any good celebration should have, and we eat special bread and cheese and have a large feast. Have you heard of Father Snow, the god we worship?”

“I think so,” Jahan answered, though his voice held uncertainty.

“You might tell his domain from his name, but we leave out shoes for him to fill with gifts and treats,” Ivan chuckled. “I’ve never participated in any of these traditions, of course, but I know of them. They are common folklore to anyone from the Kingdom of Snow, though I do feel poorer for having never experienced them. Feasts and bonfires are simply not something which interests me.”

“Then what would interest you as an alternative to the traditional celebrations?” Jahan asked.

Ivan made a thoughtful sound before he replied, “What we did on those rainy days was quite appealing.”

This answer surprised Jahan as he said, “But we did nothing on those days beyond...”

Ivan nodded, hiding the pink crawling over his cheeks by looking down at the table, “Being with you is really all I require, though I know you cannot join me. The weather is dangerous in winter and I’d hate for you to trouble yourself by being trapped in my homeland for an entire season.”

“I wouldn’t mind it if I was trapped with you,” Jahan said with a laugh.

The flushed color at Ivan’s cheeks brightened, and he looked up at Jahan nervously, “Then... will you visit me for solstice?”

Jahan looked upon Ivan’s face, those rosy cheeks delighting him greatly. The emotion Jahan had named flickered like fire light inside him, and Jahan found that his own face was growing warm as his heart beat a bit faster in his chest. At first, Jahan simply nodded as his reply, but he felt that words needed to be spoken, thus he responded nervously, “I-I would love to, yes. I can see about making arrangements after you leave tomorrow.”

Ivan smiled broadly, filled with relief and joy at Jahan’s reply.

Upon seeing that smile, Jahan felt as though the sun was beaming directly against him, heating his body and blinding his mind. He tried desperately to permanently etch Ivan’s smile in his memory, wanting to relive its radiance each morning and worship it just as he worshiped the sunrise. Jahan wished to wake up and see that smile every day, yet deep inside he knew that was impossible. They were both Kings.

Their meal ended shortly after their solstice conversation. They no longer cared if anyone saw them holding hands and boldly walked towards their bed chambers. No one observed the pair as they walked hand-in-hand, though Jahan wished that they had. If anyone asked about the state of their hands, then he would have threatened their life. Jahan knew the name for the emotion he felt for Ivan, and he was willing to flaunt that truth to anyone who dared see them together.

Jahan lingered in the doorway to Ivan’s bed chamber when they arrived. Ivan had long let go of Jahan’s hand, yet both were unwilling to say goodnight to the other. Their bodies were close as they faced each other, prepared to wish each other a goodnight though neither said the word. Ivan slowly lifted a hand, trembling as he settled his fingers against Jahan’s cheek before carefully resting his palm against the soft flesh there. A small, sad smile was offered to Ivan, understanding that this meant their time together was up. Jahan’s lips parted, inhaling as though to speak, but the words were taken away from him as Ivan’s face dipped down to meet his. Gentle lips touched against Jahan’s, breathing in the words the King of Sun had nearly exhaled. The contact was swift, barely worth the label of kiss, but to both men it was the most important thing either had experienced in their lives.

Ivan pulled away, a nervous smile on his lips as his pale skin was stained pink from blush.

“Goodnight,” Jahan whispered, reaching up to pull Ivan’s hand away from his cheek. Before it left completely, Jahan placed a delicate kiss against the palm then smoothly let it go. “May the Moons bless you with happy dreams tonight.”

“Stay with me,” Ivan blurted out. “Please.”

“If you are patient,” Jahan said quietly, raising a hand to rest against Ivan’s flushed cheek, “then I shall do so on solstice eve. However, you must promise to write me often. Will you do so?”

Ivan nodded, closing his eyes, “I promise to write you every day. I’ll flood you with letters filled with my words. Will you do the same?”

Jahan lifted himself on his toes to press a swift kiss against Ivan’s lips before whispering, “I promise beneath the Twin Moons and the infinite Stars above that I will do so without fail.”

That answer pleased Ivan greatly and he reluctantly pulled away, his hand falling to the door. “Then I wish you goodnight and good dreams. Tomorrow will be a sad day, but it will also be a happy day for soon we shall see each other again. I love you, Jahan.”

“I love you, too,” Jahan said, taking a step away from the door.

Slowly, Ivan shut the door to his bed chamber, leaving Jahan alone in the quiet of the hallway.

Jahan lingered outside Ivan’s door briefly before walking to his room and collapsing into his bed, his head filled with thoughts only of the man in the room next door. He had given the feeling in his heart a name and said that name aloud to Ivan. He felt relief at knowing that Ivan felt the same, though it was obvious from the beginning of their friendship. Without bothering to change out of his daytime clothes, Jahan fell into sleep almost immediately after landing on his bed as Ivan’s smile drifted into his dreams.

In the room next door, Ivan undressed and looked at the luggage his servant readied while he was with Jahan all day. He wanted to stay longer, yet he knew it was impossible. Ivan’s Kingdom needed its King; he had been away for far too long. Ivan sighed and crawled into bed, glancing out the window at the twin moons and the infinite stars as they shined brilliantly that night. Ivan thought back to his childhood, thinking about how his parents’ souls had gone to the moons to watch over him at night. He smiled at those celestial bodies, and as sleep claimed him that evening, Ivan dreamed of his parents.

Just as Jahan had asked of them, the moons blessed Ivan with happy dreams to soothe away his sorrow for the coming morning.

-----

Before the sun crested over the horizon, Ivan and his entourage had their horses readied for the long journey. Jahan met with them at twilight to see them all off, giving Ivan a bottle of the juice that he adored the first day of his visit. Ivan thanked Jahan for the gift and for all of the kindness offered to him over the weeks they spent together. It all ended too quickly, and the two Kings shared prolonged glances to each other before Ivan reluctantly rode off towards the northwest.

Jahan stood in the growing heat as the sun rose behind him. He took his morning prayers where he stood as he watched Ivan’s silhouette grow smaller and smaller. To the sun at his back, Jahan prayed for Ivan to return home safely and rest well upon his arrival.

Eventually, one of Jahan’s advisors came to him and asked him to come inside. They had matters to attend to and the King’s input was vital. Jahan squinted at the horizon to find no trace of Ivan in the distance. The King of Sun sighed as he went back inside to do the duties of kingship.

Jahan thought of his bittersweet parting all day, and when evening fell he looked to the moons and stars for guidance. Though sorrow tinted his heart now that Ivan was far from him, gladness still radiated warmly through his body. The moons and stars were witness to their budding romance, and in that knowledge Jahan held within his mind the memory of Ivan’s smile. It was delicate but sweet, and the memory of Ivan’s lips upon his own still filled Jahan with more joy than he had ever been blessed with in his life.

The stars twinkled within their constellations and Jahan slowly fell into slumber knowing that Ivan was out there beneath the same sky. They would see each other again soon. Until then they would look at the sky they shared together, their fondness soon to be gifted within meaningful letters over the months they would have to wait to touch again. Jahan convinced himself that the wait would not be painful so long as he focused on their future happiness. Within those thoughts, he dreamt of Ivan as the moons shined silver upon him.