Page 29 of The Broken Dawn

He looked out over the darkened gardens, his profile soft in the moonlight. "I should go back inside. Try to⁠—"

"She won't welcome your interference," Harald said quietly. "Not tonight."

Jakob's laugh was bitter. "No. I suppose she won't."

They stood in silence for a moment, the muted strains of the orchestra drifting through the open doors. Then Jakob turned to Harald, something resolute in his expression. "Come on," he said. "I need to get away from here before I go in there and punch your cousin, and I suspect we both need a drink rather badly."

Harald followed Jakob down off the terrace and across the wide, broad lawn of the school, his mind still caught on the raw hurt in Rachel's voice, the way Jakob had reached for her only to have her pull away. The sounds of the ball faded with each step, replaced by crickets and the rustle of autumn leaves. They cut across the forest on a well-worn path to the stables, stumbling in the dark. His shirt caught on brambles, and he yanked it free with muttered curses.

The way Jakob had faced down his sister, trying to protect her even as she lashed out... it had stirred something in Harald's chest. He recognized that fierce protectiveness, that desperate need to shield someone you loved from harm, even when they resented you for it. How many times had his sister Sigrid done the same for him? How many times had he wished Freddie still would?

Jakob stopped at a short, broad wooden building, its bulk a dark shadow against the star-filled sky. Harald could hear the soft breath of the horses inside, as Jakob slipped the door open. Inside, there was a small lamp casting shadows across the wooden post-and-beam architecture. "Up here." He gestured to the wooden ladder that led into the hay loft.

Harald squinted at the rungs. The heat and noise had made his head swim, and the ladder looked less than completely stable - or was that the champagne? He gripped the first rung, testing its strength.

"Here, let me-" Jakob's hands pressed against Harald's back and hip, steadying him as he started to climb. The touch sent electricity through Harald's body, making him freeze mid-step.

Jakob jerked his hands away as if burned. "I- forgive me. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's-" Harald's voice cracked. He cleared his throat, grateful for the darkness hiding his flushed face. "I mean, thank you. The help was... appreciated."

They stood in awkward silence, the gravity of the social breach hanging between them. They'd all gotten the lecture before Harald started at Riddarhuset - the one that covered how to approach and address the Royal Family and featured the specific lecture about not putting one's common hands on the royal person. But Jakob's hand had curled around Harald's waist, soft and sure.

"I didn't think," Jakob said quietly. "I just... reacted."

"Good," Harald replied, surprising himself with how much he meant it. "I prefer when people forget to treat me like I'm made of glass."

The tension eased slightly, though Harald could still feel the phantom pressure of Jakob's hands, warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"It's okay," He said and gave Jakob a small smile before pulling him over to the pile of soft hay left in the loft. "And please, call me Hal."

Jakob paused for a second, and opened his mouth as if to protest, before Harald got to see that amazing smile again. "Hal then." Jakob said, as if trying the word out for the first time, and something warm clenched in the bottom of Harald's belly.

They flopped together into the hay, sneezing and snuffling as dust and bits of hay tickled their noses. He slipped off his formal sword and jacket and spread the jacket out for them both to lie on, the Order of the Seraphim star catching what little light there was.

Jakob raised an eyebrow, amusement playing at his lips. "Are you really putting a royal decoration that is probably worth more than my mother's house into horse bedding?"

Harald felt heat rise to his cheeks. "I didn't think⁠—"

"You usually don't," Jakob said, but his voice was warm, teasing rather than accusatory. He shifted onto his side, facing Harald. "It's one of the things I like about you."

"That I'm thoughtless?" Hal asked, matching Jakob's position.

"That you don't calculate everything." Jakob reached out, his fingers brushing against the silver star before moving to touch a piece of hay next to Harald's hand. "Most people I know are always counting costs."

The almost-touch sent sparks through Harald's arm. "Even you?"

"Especially me." Jakob's smile turned rueful. "I like it here, though. Animals don't care about ledgers or balances. They just... are."

"Is that why you're so good with them?" Harald asked, remembering how confidently Jakob had handled the horses during their riding assessments.

"Maybe." Jakob's eyes met his in the darkness. "My father would have hated that about me. He wanted sons who lived in their heads, debating abstractions. I'd rather understand things I can touch." His gaze held Harald's. "Though I must admit, you're proving quite the puzzle, Your High— Hal."

Heat crept up Harald's neck at the way Jakob said his name. "I'm really not that complicated."

"No?" Jakob propped himself up on an elbow. "The prince who defies his cousin to lay in hay with commoners? Seems like you're rather complex to me."

"Perhaps I'm tired of being simple." Hal turned to mirror Jakob's position, their faces now level with each other. "Of being exactly what everyone expects me to be."