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“D’you think he’s stepping down as king?” Licht hisses in Leonhard’s ear.
“What!? Stepping down?” Leonhard repeats, a little too loudly.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you two,” Bruno chides. “Papa still works hard as ever for the good of the kingdom. Why would he abdicate the throne now?”
“Well, if you’re so smart, Bruni, what’s the big announcement, then?” Licht grumbles.
“Have patience.” Heine’s gentle command silences the quibbling princes. “His Majesty will tell us in due time. In the meantime, let’s enjoy this opportunity for dinner together, shall we?”
Leonhard looks like he wants to protest, but Kai drops a gentle hand on his shoulder and he obeys, albeit reluctantly.
An awkward silence reigns over the dinner table. Kai’s quiet isn’t out of the norm, but he eyes the door with trepidation as they wait for their father to join them. Bruno carries all his tension in his shoulders, causing his utensils to shriek against the dishes from time to time. Licht and Leonhard seem to be having a conversation composed solely of odd faces and hand signals (though Licht’s frustrated expression suggests that the “conversation” isn’t getting very far). Only Heine remains unruffled, eating his dinner as though he’s oblivious to the tension.
“Good evening, my sons!” The king sweeps cheerfully into the room, which only serves to thicken the horrible atmosphere. The princes murmur a halfhearted greeting as their father settles in to eat with them.
Almost immediately, Licht blurts out, “So what’s all the fuss about then, Dad?”
Bruno shoots him a death glare, but the king only chuckles. “I can see it’s been eating at you boys all this time. My apologies if I worried you. It’s good news, or at least I hope you’ll think so.” To anyone else, the king would have seemed his usual put-together, confident self. But his sons don’t miss the subtle hints in his expression and posture that betray his nerves.
Even knowing this, though, none of them could have possibly anticipated the next words out of their father’s mouth.
“Heine has agreed to marry me.”
Silence.
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!?!”
Leonhard’s cry of disbelief echoes for a good 3 seconds. Meanwhile, Kai fumbles his fork to the ground, Bruno chokes on the morsel he was chewing, and Licht nearly falls out of his chair.
Heine pointedly ignores everyone at the table in favor of continuing to eat, which is a dead giveaway for how deeply embarrassed he is.
“How long!?” Licht demands, too focused on his father to pay any mind to Kai thumping Bruno’s back. “How long ago did you ask him?”
“Ahaha… About a week ago,” he replies, looking surprisingly sheepish. “We were trying to figure out the best way to tell you all the news.
“You agreed to it?” Leonhard jumps up from his chair and whirls to face Heine.
Bruno, breathing again, speaks up before Heine can respond. “Not that- not that I would necessarily be opposed , but- aren’t there laws in place restricting same-sex marriage in noble and royal families?”
His father smiles gently, relaxing a bit; this is a question he knows how to answer. “Those laws are in place to ensure that the line of succession continues. With as many children as I have, I am no longer bound by those laws for any future marriage.”
"Wait, wait," Leonhard says, waving his hands frantically. "Does that mean Heine's going to be our professor AND our dad? Isn't that weird?"
This finally pulls Heine's attention away from his dinner. He fixes the princes with his serious gaze, and instantly the four of them fall silent.
"I said as much to your father when he proposed," Heine says. "I came here to be your teacher, not your father, and in all honesty I have my doubts as to whether I'd be a good one. Thus, I have no intention of forcing myself into embodying such a role. Being married to your father does not need to affect my relationship with each of you in the slightest."
Heine’s eyes flick briefly over to the king, and when he speaks again, his voice is gentler by the barest degree. "But I have seen your father move with ease between his two roles as the king and as your father, and admirably fulfill each one. If he can do it..." Heine looks around the table, making sure to look each prince in the eye. "I'm willing to try, if you'll have me.”
The silence that follows is even weightier than the one from before the announcement. The king’s grip on his utensils is uncharacteristically tight - this has not gone as well as he had hoped - and the princes share uncertain glances with one another.
Heine isn’t surprised in the slightest. He had warned Viktor that there was very little chance that this would go smoothly. It’s not that the princes don’t like him. He knows they do, very much - they’d campaigned fiercely in favor of his return to the palace, after all. But a parent’s remarriage will always bring with it a veritable storm of emotions, and the added complication of his role as their teacher only exacerbates the situation.
In truth, Heine did want to take on the role of the princes’ father. Very badly, as a matter of fact. Each and every one of his students was precious to him, but the four of them were different. He endeavored to make a difference in the life of every single student, but by virtue of living under the same roof as the princes, he’d been privy to that difference in a way he never had before. He’d witnessed the process of their grudging respect softening into trust and genuine affection.
And when he’d tried to leave them behind despite the fact that it felt like his heart was being torn in two, they’d poured their own hearts out onto the council floor to bring him back. No other students had ever touched him like this before.
It’s because of this immense love for them that Heine will respect their decision, even if it isn’t the one he’s hoping for.
He stands and bows to the assembled royals. “You needn’t decide now, Your Highnesses. I’ll take my leave.”
He turns to go. Just before he reaches the door, a voice stops him.
“Professor.” It’s Kai.
Heine turns to face him. “Yes, Prince Kai?” He wears the same neutral expression as always, but behind the facade his heart beats fitfully in his chest.
Kai stands, taking a moment to gather himself. Heine waits patiently for him to begin; he knows Kai will put a great amount of care in whatever it is he has to say, and rushing him will only throw him off.
“When we visited Ralf von Fuchs… about the article,” he begins finally, “you… protected me when he threatened my life, and you used force… so that I wouldn’t have to. I think… I think this is what a father is… meant to do for his son. Having you as my father… would make me feel… happy. Safe.”
The princes can read the king’s expressions easily, but they haven’t quite yet learned to decipher Heine’s poker face. He’s grateful for this, as he’s currently holding back tears.
Heine bows his head, just in case the princes are more perceptive than he’d realized. “Thank you for sharing your feelings with me, Prince Kai.” Schooling his expression, he lifts his head and addresses the other three. “Your father and I will be wed a month from now. You needn’t decide before then, and you can always change your minds later. Whatever your feelings on the matter, I will respect them.”
He waits a moment longer in case anyone speaks up. Viktor is trying his hardest not to look crestfallen - Heine had warned him, after all - and the three younger princes each wear pensive frowns.
Heine bows once more. “I’ll leave you to it, Your Highnesses,” he says, making his exit.
-----
The next evening, a knock on his door makes Heine look up from the papers he’s looking over.
“Master?”
Heine sighs inwardly. No need to ask who it is.
“Come in, Prince Bruno,” he calls, rising to greet his student.
Bruno enters and inclines his head in respect. “Master,” he says again. “I was wondering if you had time to look over this draft of my report? It’s to be submitted tomorrow.”
Heine has seen every one of this report’s drafts, each one significantly improved upon the last. The previous draft had needed only trivial edits; Bruno having him look over it now is merely a pretense.
“Of course, Prince Bruno.” He holds out his hand to accept the report. As he suspected, it’s in perfect form now. The logic is airtight, the thesis is clear, and the writing is engaging in and of itself. Heine feels a surge of pride at this last point. Before studying under Heine, Bruno’s papers had been well-researched, but they tended to be bogged down with academic language and overly detailed explanations, making them difficult to wade through unless one was a scholar truly interested in the subject matter. He’d encouraged Bruno to let his voice come through in his writing, and the young prince had taken his advice to heart, making great strides in developing his writing style.
Bruno shifts from foot to foot as Heine reads. Heine ignores this for now, devoting his full attention to Bruno’s report, just in case there is something else that could use improving between tonight and tomorrow. Overestimating a student can be just as harmful as underestimating them, and Heine will not fall into either trap.
Finally, he looks up and returns the report to Bruno. “Very well done, Prince Bruno. This is the most captivating piece of writing I’ve seen from you so far. Your writing style has truly begun to make itself known.”
Prince Bruno starts when Heine speaks, as though he’d forgotten the professor was there, but his face lights up at Heine’s praise, and he practically wriggles with pleasure at being acknowledged. “Thank you, Master!” he chirps, dropping into a deep bow. “It’s all thanks to your guidance, Master!”
“Do not discount the value of your own hard work, as well,” Heine chides him gently. “Now, was there something else you wanted to tell me?”
“Ah-” Bruno’s eyes widen as he remembers why he’d come. “Yes, I-” He looks away. “I wanted to apologize for my reaction at dinner yesterday,” he admits bashfully. “Truly, I’m happy for the both of you, and I have no objections to you taking on the role of my father. It would be an honor, as a matter of fact.” Bruno bows again. “Although I’d still like to refer to you as Master, if that’s alright.”
Heine sighs. “I’d really prefer you didn’t,” he says. “But I won’t force you to call me ‘Father’ if you would prefer not to. Just ‘Professor’ is fine.”
“Yes, Master.”
“... So, if I may ask, what is it that concerns you about my imminent marriage to His Highness?”
“Ah, well, it’s just-” Bruno bites his lip. “I don’t mean to imply that you and Papa hadn’t thought things through,” he says carefully. “I’m just concerned about how your marriage will look to the citizens of Granzreich, and to other nations. I know that Papa said the laws didn’t apply to him since he has plenty of suitable heirs, but there’s also the matter that you’re employed by the palace. People might become suspicious of your qualifications, or of Papa’s intentions.”
“I see.” Heine nods. “Your concerns are reasonable, Prince Bruno. The fact that you’re considering the welfare of the kingdom marks you as taking your claim to the throne seriously.”
Rather than preening at Heine’s praise, Bruno just looks relieved. Heine is warmed by the thought that Bruno was genuinely worried that his opinion might upset Heine.
“Your father and I did discuss these things extensively,” Heine continues. “There certainly is a possibility that his or my character may be called into question as a result of our union. But ultimately, we decided that it would be worth it to go ahead with the marriage. We’ll do our best to mitigate any negative press about us, of course. But ultimately-”
He looks Bruno in the eye. “It’s alright to be selfish, sometimes. The kingdom cannot prosper if its king is unhappy.” He lets the words sink in; Bruno nods as he carefully turns them over in his head.
“I understand,” Bruno says finally. “Master, at what point would selfishness no longer be acceptable?”
“It’s difficult to quantify such a thing,” Heine responds. “But generally, there would need to be more concrete negative consequences. If the kingdom would have truly suffered for the sake of our marriage, your father never would have proposed to me in the first place. He loves me, and he loves his children, but the kingdom is always his priority.”
Bruno is quiet for a moment. “Or maybe he would have given up the throne to my brother to be with you.”
Heine tilts his head thoughtfully; he hadn’t considered that possibility. “I don’t think that’s likely. Prince Eins is only one potential future monarch. I don’t think he would give up the throne until he had seen each of you reach your full potential. Perhaps, though. Sometimes your father surprises me.”
“How long have you loved him?” Bruno asks shyly.
“... Since we were children,” Heine admits. “He was a bright star in a rather bleak life. He helped me to care for the other street children, even though it put him at risk, though I didn’t realize just how much, at the time. When I thought he might die…” Heine pauses a moment, because he knows if he continues speaking his voice will shake, and he’d rather not let slip such emotion in front of the young prince. Once he’s composed himself, he leaves that thought unfinished.
“Seeing him again here at the palace, and witnessing how much of himself he puts into being the king, and into being your father, brought my old feelings back to the surface. I didn’t intend to act upon them, but Viktor returned my feelings and began to court me. I hadn’t realized, but he had loved me just as long. The only reason he didn’t pursue me then was his duty as the king.”
So much for not showing too much emotion; a gentle smile graces Heine’s face, and he realizes he had slipped up and referred to the king as “Viktor.”
At some point, Bruno had sat down to listen to his story, eyes filled with wonder. “I didn’t realize he had given up the person he loved in service to his kingdom,” Bruno says softly. “And you as well, Master.”
“No matter,” Heine says. “I’m grateful for it, and I know he is as well. His marriage to your mother brought you all into our lives, after all.”
To Heine’s surprise, Bruno’s eyes fill suddenly with tears, and suddenly he finds himself swept into Bruno’s arms.
“Thank you, Master,” Bruno says, voice muffled into Heine’s robes. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. For me.”
Heine returns the hug as best he can. “Of course, Prince Bruno,” he says. “Teaching you and your brothers has been both the greatest honor and the greatest joy of my life.
“Now, would you please put me down?”
-----
The bell on the door jingles as Heine enters the café. Licht is busy at one of the tables, but he glances up at the sound, shooting Heine a quick smile. I’ll be right with you, the look tells him.
Heine is content to wait patiently - he’s in no hurry, after all, and he knows Licht is a diligent worker. Sure enough, Licht bustles up to him a few minutes later, menus tucked under his arm and sunny smile upon his lips.
“Good afternoon, sir!” he chirps. “Would you like to sit at your usual table?”
Heine inclines his head. “Yes, please. Thank you very much.”
“Of course!” Licht leads him to the booth and lays the menu on the tabletop. “My recommendation for you today is the new apple strudel. It’s a buttery, crumbly crust baked around an apple-and-cinnamon center that perfectly blends sweet and sour! They’re meant to stay on the menu for the next two weeks, but between you and me, we’ll be lucky if we have enough stock left to last the rest of the week, with the way these things are selling.”
As always, Licht’s lavish description leaves Heine’s mouth watering. “That sounds delightful,” he says. It’s practically a ritual at this point, for Licht to order for him by way of a recommendation. It’s not Heine’s usual method, but Licht has never once steered him wrong. “I’ll take one order.”
“Right away, sir!” Licht trots off to the kitchen to relay the order.
While he waits, Heine pulls out the papers he’d brought with him to grade. He’s fallen a bit behind on his grading as a result of wedding planning. Bruno had handed this paper in to him five days ago, and this test of Leonhard’s was about a week old…
He’s so absorbed in his papers that he barely notices when Licht brings Heine’s order to him. This is common enough that Licht never takes offense to it; he simply leaves Heine’s food and drink on the table and continues his work. However, this time he hovers awkwardly in the corner of Heine’s field of vision.
Heine does a double take when he realizes the young prince is loitering by his table. Tearing his attention away from his work, he asks, “Is there a problem?”
Licht shifts from foot to foot, glancing around surreptitiously before leaning in and lowering his voice. “Professor…”
Heine lowers his pen. Whatever it is that Licht has to say, it’s important enough to warrant an interruption to Licht’s work as well as an allusion to their true identities; thus, it deserves Heine’s full attention. “What is it, Prince Licht?” he asks, matching Licht’s low tones.
“W-well…” Licht fidgets with his glasses, uncharacteristically bashful. “It’s about you and Dad.”
It had been about a week since the announcement. Though Licht hadn’t acted any differently towards Heine since then, he had avoided bringing up the topic altogether. Heine, though he hid it well, was anxious to hear what he had to say.
“I see. Go on,” he prompts.
“I, uh…” Licht averts his eyes. “I have to admit, I felt silly about this - I still do, in fact! - which is why I left the subject alone for so long. I thought if I just had time to come to terms with your marriage, I would stop feeling this way. I didn’t wanna bother you with it. But, um, it hasn’t quite worked, you see.”
“Get to the point,” Heine presses him, albeit gently. “I know you mean well, Prince Licht. I won’t be angry with you for sharing your feelings.”
“Ah- thanks.” Licht dips his head, already looking somewhat relieved. “Well, you know how I used to feel like my dad never had enough time for me?”
“I remember.” Heine nods. “I thought the two of you had put that behind you?”
“Well, yeah, for the most part. But… there’s still scars left behind, I guess.” Licht smiles, though Heine can tell it’s forced. “I couldn’t help but think about it again, knowing the two of you are going to be married. I barely get to see Dad as is, and I see you frequently enough, but your time is split between the four of us. Once you two are married…”
Licht shakes his head sharply and then bows to Heine. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes profusely. “I know it’s selfish of me to want so much of your time, and there’s no way I can begrudge the time a newlywed couple wants to spend with each other.” One of his hands comes up to clench into a fist before his chest. “I’m happy for you both. Truly, I am. But I can’t get these feelings to go away, and they’re tainting it.”
Shamefaced, Licht keeps his head bowed. He sounds genuinely agonized over his mixed feelings; so much so that Heine’s heart aches with it. He chooses his next words very carefully, not wanting to add to the agony with any sort of misunderstanding.
“Prince Licht,” he commands, “please look at me.”
Hesitantly, Licht raises his eyes to Heine’s.
“I am very flattered,” Heine says, “by the fact that you value both my feelings and my company so highly. The fact that you are attempting to put myself and the king first speaks to your kindness and strength of character. That said, you needn’t neglect your own feelings for our sakes.”
Prince Licht blinks at him with wide, watery eyes, and Heine thinks he has never looked more fourteen than he does now; it only serves to underscore his point. “You are still a child, Prince Licht,” he reminds him. “I mean this not as an insult - you are growing into a very capable young man - but as a simple statement of fact. It is well-documented that children need positive attention and encouragement to grow, and you are no exception. It is only natural that you would seek out the company of myself and your father.
“And, even were you a fully grown adult, it would still be natural that you would want to maintain your relationships with the people that you care for. Just as you say you would never begrudge the time a newlywed couple spends with one another, I would never begrudge the time a son spends with his father.”
Heine weighs his next words with care. “Or his fathers, if he so chooses.”
“You really mean that?” Licht asks softly. “It’s really okay that I feel so mixed-up about this?”
“Of course,” Heine assures him. “So long as you manage your emotions, and don’t let them cloud your judgement or beget rash decisions, there is never any emotion that it is wrong to feel.”
Licht heaves a sigh - shaky, but relieved - and then nods decisively to himself. “I understand. Thank you, Professor.”
“Of course, Prince Licht. If it helps,” he adds as Licht prepares to check on his next table, “I think you’ll find that things will change surprisingly little following the wedding. Your father found plenty of time to court me, after all, and none of you ever noticed a thing.”
“Really?” Licht asks, perking up at the mention of courting. “How did you two manage that?”
“We spend a lot of time together at night, after most of the palace’s inhabitants have already gone to bed.”
“ Really, ” Licht says again, but this time his voice has become a dangerous purr. His eyes sparkle and he leans closer to Heine. “Do you mean to tell me that you and my dad have been-”
Smack.
“Owww!” Licht yelps, cradling his reddened cheek. He pouts. “What was that for?”
“For overstepping my boundaries and making inappropriate remarks,” Heine answers primly. “Besides, Your Highness, do you really want to think about your father engaged in such activities?”
Licht pauses in his dramatics, and a stricken expression crosses his face. “...Point taken. Sorry, Professor,” he says ruefully.
“I should hope so.”
-----
It’s mere days until the wedding, but that’s the last thing on Heine’s mind. He’s worried about Prince Leonhard.
The young prince has been avoidant as of late. It’s not quite to the level that it had been when Heine had first met him; he still attends his lessons diligently, but he speaks little and keeps his head down, and if he sees Heine walking towards him in the hallway, he very conspicuously does a 180-degree turn and speedwalks away from his tutor.
Heine had asked a member of the palace staff to do some surreptitious surveillance in Leonhard’s room; as he’d suspected, she’d reported that Leonhard seemed to be writing self-reflective diaries at a troubling rate.
Following this report, Heine thanks the staff member and then dismisses her, frowning pensively. When first confronted with Leonhard’s obstinacy, he’d read the prince’s habitual writings for himself. That had been an extreme measure, however, made necessary as a result of the nonexistent relationship between the two at the time. Heine would prefer not to invade Leonhard’s privacy again, if he could help it.
But something is clearly bothering Leonhard, and though Heine can hazard a guess that it’s to do with the impending wedding, he hasn’t the first clue about the specifics. He considers asking Leonhard outright, but he’s afraid the question might be construed as pressure - which he’d promised to avoid - and besides, Leonhard’s strategy in the face of unwanted probing has always been the same. Deny, deny, deny.
Left rather frustrated, but unable to come up with an alternate solution, Heine continues to hold their lessons as usual.
“You must get in the habit of double-checking your work,” he instructs Leonhard at the end of one such lesson, gesturing to an arithmetic test bogged down with careless errors to emphasize his point. “It may be time-consuming, but it will ensure your work is of its highest possible quality. It’s also good practice for your future work as a potential king. Rectifying errors - which you will make, no matter how skilled you are - is an important skill, Your Highness.”
Leonhard bows his head. “I understand,” he mumbles. “Sorry for disappointing you, Professor.”
“What?” Heine’s eyes widen marginally. Thrown, he struggles to mask the hurt in his voice. “Prince Leonhard, have I done something to suggest that I’m disappointed in you?”
Leonhard curls in on himself. “I know you try not to be,” he says. “But I’m just not as accomplished as I’m supposed to be at my age. I’m trying, but I just can’t meet the standards that you and Papa set for me. I wasted my youth avoiding studying, and now I don’t think I can ever catch up.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “It’s bad enough failing you as my tutor. I don’t want to fail you as my father, too.”
Leonhard’s eyes glimmer with unshed tears; though you wouldn’t know it to look at him, Heine is near tears himself. He takes a moment to muster up his composure.
“Leonhard,” he says, unfailingly gentle. “Please listen carefully to me.”
Leonhard’s body tenses, as if he’s preparing to flinch away from a beating. It reminds Heine of hearing about how Leonhard’s first tutor had beaten the young prince, and he has to work to suppress his anger that a so-called educator would ever treat a child in such a way. Every one of the princes had suffered in their lives; Heine would never want to diminish their pain, so he would never say this aloud, but privately, he felt that Leonhard had endured the worst of it. The other three, at least, had made it through with the majority of their self-worth intact. Heine had painstakingly helped Leonhard to rebuild his from the ground up, and had proudly witnessed the fruit of their combined efforts; it killed him to know that it had been crumbling before his eyes and he hadn’t even known.
“You, Prince Leonhard,” he says, “are your own harshest critic. This has been true since the day I met you, and it would still be true if I doubled my expectations of you. I know that you are frequently dissatisfied with yourself and your work.”
Heine reaches out and lays his hand atop Leonhard’s bowed head. Leonhard startles at the contact, looking up at his tutor with disbelieving eyes. “But I have never once been disappointed in you, Prince Leonhard.”
Leonhard shakes his head slightly. “That can’t be… When I scored a 59, I couldn’t even meet Papa’s goal-”
“You worked tirelessly to raise your score up from nothing, Prince Leonhard. Even had your score been only half what it was, it would have been a tremendous improvement, one that most people wouldn’t have been capable of.” Leonhard blinks at him, confused, uncomprehending. “Your Highness, please understand this. Your father and I don’t set goals for you to mark off how many failures it takes before you get there. We set you these goals because we know you will get there eventually, no matter what.
“I am so very proud of you, Prince Leonhard. And I would only be prouder still to call you my son.”
Leonhard’s lower lip trembles. “R-really?” he squeaks out.
“Of course. And as long as you continue to put in the effort and do what is right, nothing will change that. I only wish that you would not berate yourself so for falling short of your own standards. It’s healthy to strive for your goals, but not if it causes you to become mired in self-loathing. I want you to try to view yourself with the same love and pride that your father and I do.”
Leonhard had been trying valiantly to keep it together, but at this, the dam finally breaks. “Professoooooooooor!” he wails. He throws his arms around Heine, squeezing him tightly and crying noisily into his shoulder.
Normally, Heine would be irked by such a display, but more than anything else he’s relieved to have the Prince Leonhard he knows back, the one who wears his heart on his sleeve. As Leonhard rocks him back and forth in his arms, sobbing “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” ad infinitum, Heine wraps his arms around his pupil, ready to patiently wait out his crying episode for as long as he needs.
-----
The wedding is smaller and more private than any of the princes had anticipated. Most of the seats are filled by palace staff; the king’s children and grandmother fill the front row. Even Eins has shown up for the occasion. When he spots his brothers, he offers a curt but cordial nod.
Viktor and Heine don’t adhere too closely to tradition. Both had already been present at the front of the room, facing one another with their hands linked, when the spectators entered - Heine stands atop a stool that puts him face-to-face with Victor - and neither has a best man or maiden. Heine has no one but the royal family, and he couldn’t possibly choose just one of the princes; Viktor, in turn, had forgone the practice so as to align with Heine.
They do, however, say their vows with utmost solemnity.
“Viktor von Glanzreich." Heine pronounces every syllable of the king’s full name deliberately, with the same quiet gravitas that he always does. “Despite spending my life surrounded by people, you were the first I was ever able to trust. I saw you with the children, and I trusted you to act in their best interests. I saw you crowned as the ruler, and I trusted you to lead the kingdom justly. And after many years and much patience on your part, I saw you come back to me time and time again, and show me not merely the same kindness and compassion you grant everyone you meet, but the love and understanding born from looking into my heart and seeing your own reflected there.
“Everything that I was able to become, I owe to you, Viktor. Thank you for supporting my dearest goals and dreams, and thank you for showing me that I, too, deserved to pursue my own happiness, despite my best attempts to reject it. With this, our marriage, I will endeavor to share this happiness with you, our family, and the kingdom, til death do us part.”
Momentarily overcome, the king turns his head to the side, shoulders shaking with emotion.
“I had no idea Master was capable of speaking with such poetry,” Bruno breathes.
“Me n-neither,” Leonhard agrees.
“Leonhard’s crying,” Licht snickers.
“I’m not! ” Leonhard wails, tears leaking from his eyes.
“Hush,” Kai warns. “Father is about to say his vows.”
Wiping his eyes, Viktor turns back to Heine with a tender smile. “I hope you’ll forgive me for adjusting my vows on the fly,” he says. “But I can’t help but respond directly to yours. Heine Wittgenstein. You say you owe everything you were able to become to me, but I could say much the same about you. You shared your knowledge, your time, and your friendship with me, and permanently changed for the better the way I viewed myself and the world. I would not be the man I am today had we never met, and neither would this kingdom be the kingdom it is today.
“The two of us have always been at our best together. At our happiest, certainly, but also a better ruler and a better teacher. My sons exemplify this best. They’ve grown into fine young men, and I know that with you here permanently in our lives they will only grow finer - as will you and I. We’ve much left to share with one another, and the rest of our lives to do so, til death do us part.”
In the face of Viktor’s earnest declaration, there’s not a dry eye in the house. Leonhard is weeping openly now; Licht and Bruno discreetly swipe across their eyes; even Kai is misty-eyed. Heine himself bows his head, a single errant tear tracing its way down his cheek.
When the officiant pronounces them married, the two share a soft, lingering kiss, folding their bodies lovingly against one another. It’s the first time the princes have seen their father and Heine openly physical with one another, and yet, it’s not even weird. How could it be, after hearing the depth of their love?
The ceremony breaks off into socializing and dancing - given the staff’s lower status, the dances are decidedly looser and less formal than most of the princes have seen before, but Licht quickly joins in, and before long they’ve thrown themselves headfirst into the merrymaking. A wedding cake made up of tiered sachertorte is brought out, which Leonhard immediately pounces upon with shining eyes, though he manages to remember his manners and leave some for the other attendees.
Viktor makes the rounds to each guest, thanking them heartily for attending his wedding. Heine follows, expressionless as usual, but exuding a warmth that envelops everyone his gaze falls upon. The happy couple’s mood is catching; anyone who wasn’t already having a good time is after speaking with them.
Finally, they reach the table the princes are sharing, with the exception of Eins, who’s chatting with one of the few visitors from outside the palace attending the wedding.
“My boys,” Viktor greets his sons warmly. He opens his arms, and the four of them fall into them, easily fitting all together despite their numbers. Heine hangs back; Licht is tempted to drag him into the group hug, but Heine shoots him a dry, knowing look and he refrains.
Viktor reluctantly lets go, and they all step back, widening their loose circle to include Heine.
“My sincerest congratulations on your marriage, Papa,” Bruno says, bowing slightly to Viktor. “I wish you both many happy years to come.”
Licht elbows him in the ribs. “Why so formal , Bruni? He’s our dad! Congrats, by the way, Dad,” he adds, turning to his father. “What a speech you made! Leonhard was sobbing like he was watching his only daughter get married off!”
“H-hey!” Leonhard flushes. “You were crying too! Everyone was!”
“I’ve never seen so many tears of joy before,” Kai murmurs. “I’m really happy that we could all share in it.”
Viktor smiles tenderly. “I’m so glad you all liked the ceremony, my sons. Truly.” His hand brushes against Heine’s shoulder, almost protectively.
Bruno clears his throat. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, Professor,” he says. “We put together a gift for you.”
“Oh?” The barest trace of amusement reflects in Heine’s voice. “And what might that be?”
“Here,” Leonhard says, suddenly shy, offering Heine a wrapped package.
Heine undoes the wrapping with great care, revealing a high-quality but otherwise ordinary journal. Of course, Heine isn’t fooled by the unassuming cover. He immediately opens it up to see what they’ve written inside, Viktor peering over his shoulder.
Dear Heine:
We missed out on your presence in our lives at the beginning of our youth (or, as Licht put it, you missed out on ours), so Leonhard had the idea to put together some of our childhood memories together for your perusal. However, when we set out to write, we quickly realized that we had trouble coming up with suitable memories of ourselves, and when we did, we agonized over how best to portray ourselves.
We were frustrated with our lack of progress until Kai suggested we tell stories about each other, instead of ourselves. Needless to say, we’ve all got plenty to say about our brothers, and there was quite a bit of fighting over whose turn with the journal it was (we hope you’ll forgive the wrinkled pages that resulted).
Thus, compiled here are twelve stories from our youth, three written by each of us about each of our brothers. We’re sure this volume is riddled with spelling and grammatical errors, and could have done with another draft to be at its best. We had precious little time to put it together, but, more importantly, this haphazard anthology is a raw expression of our love, not as your students, but as your sons.
Though this introduction was written in Bruno’s hand, it’s signed by all four of them. Heine touches his fingertips reverently to the ink. “Did you know about this?” he murmurs to his husband. Viktor shakes his head, eyes filled with tender pride.
“W-we hope you like it…” Leonhard trails off nervously, exchanging glances with his brothers. They all nod at one another, seemingly preparing themselves, and bow to Heine before speaking as one.
“...Father.”
For the second time that day, Heine’s eyes mist over. He bows his head in return, cradling the gift to his chest with both arms.
“Thank you very much… my sons.”