Johan went very quiet at that, which likely meant he heard what Fiori had said, but he was too proud to admit that he was right. Johan thought he knew he was at least a better fit for the throne than Levi. He chewed on his inner cheek for a ways down the hallway. “I’ve considered it,” he finally spoke again. “And I’ve done the country good this far.” Mostly because as a prince regent he didn’t have full control over the entire kingdom. Even prince regents were still kept in check by advisors and an entire council.
"Yes, but… I know better than many what the powers of a regent are." His uncle had been ruling all his life, and he knew from the various complaints he'd gotten over the years just how restrictive they were. "They are not those of kingship, Johan. And while you may fit well in that position, it does not guarantee that you'll be fit for truly ruling the country. I do not doubt that you have done good, but I doubt you are the best fit. And I doubt you did the right thing with Leviticus."
“Mnh,” Johan scrunched up his nose at that. “Leviticus deserved whatever he got.” He sneered around the bruises and scar on his face. “And I refuse to listen to you, an Usigen, about moral quandaries.” Even if Levi hadn’t returned at all, Johan knew that he would have had several more years before he became king. Levi would have to wait too, and maybe in that time Johan could plan, even manage to regain his footing within the palace. It would take a lot of work.
Fi sighed when Johan turned up his nose. They'd made so much progress. They were talking, they were… bonding, in so much as two enemy princes could bond, and now it was all ruined. He should've known not to poke at such a sore subject, especially when Johan was bound to bite back. And it did hurt, that bite. It stung more than it had any right to and he felt that same horrible pressure building behind his eyes. He wondered what Johan would do if he saw him cry. "And does my race exclude me from morality, Johan? Am I so savage to you?"
Johan started to look sideways, but decided against it and refused to look straight at Fiori. “It doesn’t exclude you. Just a different kind of morality.” Before this moment Johan would have assumed Fiori understood his position. Obviously not. He brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, thought better of pressing on a bruise, and rubbed it instead. “And yes. Aren’t I to you?”
Fi noticed the way Johan wouldn't meet his eyes and did his best to keep from wincing. He really did wince when he got the answer to his question, eyes flickering away from the prince beside him though he still carried much of Johan's weight. "No." His voice was softer than normal. "No, I think you are very civilized. I think you are brilliant in many ways, Johan. Brilliant with sword and with strategy." There was a lilt to his voice, the remains of an Usigen accent he'd done his best to smooth out of his Widonian. It came out when he got upset, though he didn't know that yet.
All traces of a scowl left Johan’s expression only to be replaced by confusion. He blinked a few times as if he had been physically hit. “You don’t think that,” he countered briskly. Not that he disagreed with Fiori’s words, just the intention. Surely this Usigen must be playing a trick by preying on his emotions like that. He must have used the same tactic on Leviticus, who was so emotionally susceptible to fall for it. Johan’s muscles tensed up again. “Why would you say that?”
Fiori gave him a frown, small and confused. He wouldn't lie. What use could that possibly be when Johan wouldn't even believe him now? He'd never be anything less than honest, he hoped Johan could see that someday. "I do. I think you a very admirable man, prince. Why wouldn't I think that? You're strong and brave, you suffer injury with grace, you fight with skill. These are all qualities I strive for, things I admire. Why shouldn't I look to you with that same admiration?"
It made no sense to Johan why the prince of war could possibly admire him, his own enemy. Admittedly there were traits of Fiori’s that Johan admired: his dexterity with the sword, his even tone, and physical build. It just wouldn’t be right to openly think well of one’s enemy. “I know what you’re doing,” Johan pressed his lips together. “You’re trying to flatter me in order to gain my trust, aren’t you?”
"How could I flatter you into trusting me when you do not believe a single thing I say?" Fiori didn't understand why Johan wouldn't accept what he was saying. Sure, they were opposed, but they weren't enemies. He didn't hate Johan or his country and sure, he found some aspects of their culture distasteful and strange, but that didn't mean he couldn't accept Widonians as fellow people and it certainly didn't mean he couldn't see the positive traits they had. "I have admired you for many years, since we first crossed swords, and despite the flaws I can now find, I will continue to admire you for your strength and your skill."
Johan let out a heavy sigh through his nose. In his mind Johan had a healthy dislike for the Usigens and all of its people. Fiori, however, was a strange case, and he disliked him for rather different reasons now than he disliked the country. “I’ll never understand you. Do you admire me enough to help me escape captivity? You obviously have enough leverage to sway Leviticus’ decisions.” He vaguely remembered the conversation Fiori and Levi had had in the baths. Still, Johan didn’t completely trust Fiori’s words, and he doubted he would agree to his suggestion.
"I admire you, yes, but that does not mean I like you." He could see the doors to what he assumed was the kitchen up ahead and wondered where he could set Johan while he gathered some food. "Leviticus is my friend and beyond that a better person than you, and while I do not like this punishment or my role in it, I will willingly accept it because he has done for me. But… I don't suppose you would understand something like that. You see things as very black and white, do you not?"
“I understand things as I’ve experienced in the past,” Johan replied, “And how I believe things are. For what it’s worth, I don’t like you either.” He fixed his gaze forward again, and seeing the kitchens he let out a breath of relief. Hopefully while he ate conversation wouldn’t he expected, and he could dine in peace. “We’re almost to the kitchens.”
Fiori laughed softly and it surprised him. He knew Johan didn't like him and he knew that should've made him feel even worse but… gods damn it, Johan just seemed to take offence to him as a person instead of as an Usigen and it was comforting. It was comforting to know he could make an impact. "Good. Then we can continue this later, for now… let's get you some food, yes? What can I get you?"
Yes, let’s.” He had no intention of initiating the rest of the conversation later. “The cooks know what I like,” he answered as they approached the doors. “To them I’m still the highest prince. I doubt they’ve heard any rumors. Not yet at least.“ For lunch in the warmer months Johan usually had some sort of meat-and-okra soup and red wine jelly. He had it every day, and expected the cooks wouldn’t conveniently forget today of all days.
"Then I will ask them to make it for you after we get you settled." There seemed to be a sitting area off to the left, probably for the scullery maids when they took their meals. It stood empty now, and Fi set Johan down on one of the chairs as best he could. He left not long after. The cook was a pretty Usigen woman, big and pretty, and he was so delighted to meet someone who spoke his language, who understood, that he ended up talking with her for at least 20 minutes.
Johan impatiently bounced his knee under the table while he waited. If he had felt better he might have gotten up to see what was taking Fiori so long to get his meal. Instead he cuties his hands in his hair, inadvertently tugging some strands out of the braid Fiori had put his hair into. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, and his eyes fell closed. Without distractions his thoughts trailed towards the ceremony that would occur later tonight. Soon he might not have any hair to hurt his hands into, depending how short Levi would have it cut.
When he came back there was a smile on his face, bright with relief and pleasure. He smelled like spices. There was soup in his hands. The cook, Cora, had insisted he help make the soup. She seemed to get Fiori's discomfort here– hell, she'd probably gone through it herself– and he was too weak not to stay for a while longer, reminiscing. She was sweet. She called him honey and let him make himself fried bread while they worked. "I am sorry for my tardiness, prince. I have your food here."
Johan opened his eyes when he heard Fiori return. He lifted his head from the table, “Ah, I can see that—“ he might have said thank you, but he interrupted himself. “—Did you see Cora?” Not that he cared if Fiori had a pleasant time talking to someone familiar or not. He knew Cora, and had seen her in the kitchens ever since he could remember. As a middle child whose parents were more focused on the rambunctious toddler, Johan had enjoyed visiting her when he was Mikhail’s age. He didn’t visit as often anymore. He still liked her, though he wouldn’t openly admit it, and it was often easy for him to forget she was Usigen.
Fi approached him with concern in his eyes, worried about why he'd collapsed. "I did, she's a lovely woman." He set the soup down and then, slowly enough that Johan could push him away, tilted his head up to look him in the eyes. They didn't seem overly glassy and his pupils weren't dilated, but still. He was warm. Serious injuries could cause fevers if left untreated, and Johan was pushing himself far more than he should. "Are you alright? You look tired."
Johan tossed his chin to the side and picked up his spoon. “Of course I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” He stared forward at the wall as he began to eat. His utensil wavered slightly in his hand, only to be steadied when he took a bite. “Other than that I’m fine. I just need rest.” Other than the whole ceremony and his hair being cut, he was rather looking forward to the end of the day. Would he even be able to sleep in his own bed?
Fi let go of him but his eyes never strayed from Johan. He took in every shake and hesitation with a small frown, cataloging them in his head. Would Levi let him call a physician for his brother? Or would he just have to wait things out while Johan slowly deteriorated? "I see. After the ceremony, we will have to decide what to do with your rooms. I cannot let you stay there."
“What?” Johan lowered his spoon back into the bowl. “Those are my rooms.” he swiveled his head to stare back at Fiori. “I’m staying in my rooms,” he insisted. He couldn’t let him change anything about his rooms, no matter if Fiori would be considered his “master.” How dare he have a right to his possessions?
The last thing Fiori wanted to do was pick a fight, but this was important. "They were, but… I cannot have you there. The rooms are full of knives Johan, surely you understand why I cannot allow you to share them with me." Normally he would've set himself up on a couch and let Johan take the bed, but he really couldn't do that when Johan had a million murder weapons to choose from hanging right in his face.
Johan had no problem picking a fight, especially when it regarded his entitlements. He would fight with Leviticus about the ceremony all night if he had the chance. “Yes. My knives. The ones that I own and am quite proud of. If you’re so scared of them you can sleep somewhere else.” He picked up his spoon and started eating again, with a lot more agitation than was present before.
