<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 15px">Bellamy tucked Camile in for the night. As soon as the doors had closed behind them, Camile had begun crying hysterically. Bellamy had scooped her up into his arms, tucking her head under his chin and holding her tightly. He'd murmured reassurances to her the whole trip to her room, assuaging her grief and doing his best to answer the questions she had for him. <br/>
<br/>
"Where is Rai? Why is daddy always so mean to you? Why won't you stop fighting?"<br/>
<br/>
Questions such as those were almost impossible to answer, and Bellamy felt wholly unequipped to handle them. He was sure this was the job of her actual mother or father, but Camile never went to them with these kinds of things. Likely because Bellamy was the only person who let her speak out of turn and who didn't chastise her for asking too many questions. He never made her feel like a burden or afraid of her own voice when he was around. In fact, he did his best to build her up and encourage her. He was her number one fan, especially when it came to her education. Most days, Bellamy felt as though he taught her more than the governess they paid to do it. <br/>
<br/>
By the time they'd made it back to her room, Camile was out of questions and only sniffling occasionally. Bellamy lingered a moment to rub her back and sing softly to her. His voice wasn't the best. Raison had been the true singer of the family, taking after their mother in that respect and far outshining her at an early age. Bellamy had inherited some of the gene though, so he didn't sound overly terrible. It was a good way to entertain small parties when his sister could compel him to do it, and all those present had a passibly good time. Nevertheless, Bellamy's mediocre singing did its job and Camile was fast asleep in no time. <br/>
<br/>
Bellamy waited a moment longer, until he was sure that she was deep enough in sleep that moving wouldn't wake her, and then he slowly tiptoed from the room. <br/>
<br/>
Back in his room, he made slow work of getting ready for bed, letting his mind wander after he'd dismissed his ladies in waiting once again. This had become increasingly more of a habit since his brothers death. He found himself craving alone time above most other things and the constant presence of his slaves was agitating. When he was craving company, he would call on Lance. Or one of his many "suitors" if it was a different kind of company he required. </span></span><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">Now was one of those times when he needed a moment of peace and quiet to think. <br/>
<br/>
Princess Arabelle was a lovely young lady. While soft-spoken and a little frail, she had a warm smile and pretty features to accompany it. She wasn't exactly designed for court life, but she was good with Camile and would therefore be a good mother, should she actually be able to bare a child. And even if she weren't, that would almost work to Bellamy's favor. He'd be able to claim he was helplessly in love with her and so avoid having to hunt down another bride who could sire him children and thus avoid having to copulate with the princess any further. She was then the best match he could have ever hoped for. <br/>
<br/>
Except for the matter of her brother. <br/>
</span></span><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 15px">Prince Everett was stunning. With wide, dark blue eyes, a defined jaw, high cheekbones, and luscious brown locks, he was the picture of sexuality. Bellamy imagined all the women - and likely half the men - of Velorath were positively fawning over him. Almost every time Bellamy looked at him, he imagined burrowing his fingers in that beautifully thick head of hair. And his lips! Ugh, they were to die for. Pouty and plush and made for kissing. And cock sucking, but that as a little more lewd.<br/>
<br/>
He was going to be a problem, was the point. Of course, he would spend the majority of his time in Velorath where he belonged. But Arabelle was too frail to travel frequently and if she did end up giving Bellamy children, her condition would likely only worsen. Which meant that if Prince Everett wanted to see his sister then he was going to have to come do it himself, therefore putting himself solidly in Bellamy's life. It was like he was sent to be a temptation by god himself, a tantalizing morsel impossible to resist no matter how much rule and law and religion said he had to. <br/>
<br/>
Bellamy had had many years to accept that he just wasn't attracted to women. And during his brother's life, he'd been able to explore his sexuality and his attraction to men fairly freely. His father didn't care what he got up to, one way or another, just so long as no one caught him. There were rumors of course, but Bellamy was such a minor figure, and so notorious for his rebellious nature, that it didn't really  matter much. After Raison's death, however, he was thrown into the spotlight and now most men wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Let alone a man who was decidedly attracted to women and had no interest in what Bellamy had to offer. And who was also related to, and very close with, the woman he was destined to marry. <br/>
<br/>
Bellamy collapsed into the bed with a groan and shoved a pillow over his face, allowing himself a few moments of self pity. Alas, he rolled beneath the covers and drifted off for the night.<br/>
<br/>
The following morning, he was awoken by the sound of his bedroom door slamming loudly into the wall. He startled a little and groaned at being thrust so violently into consciousness. He peaked out from beneath his mountain of covers to glare at the tall, lanky form sailing through his bedroom. It stopped in front of his windows, gripping the curtains and jerking them apart. The morning sunlight washed over his features, bathing them in gold. <br/>
<br/>
It was none other than Lance La Row, Bellamy's longtime friend. <br/>
<br/>
Bellamy couldn't recall any of his strongest memories where Lance was not present. They'd been joined at the hip since their youth. This past year since Raison's death had been the most distant they'd grown from each other, as Bellamy was often too busy to attend to the friendship as he might normally like. He still saw Lance plenty, as his father was the most trusted advisor to the throne, especially on diplomatic issues. He had spearheaded the talks with the Velorathian ambassador and had pretty much single handedly closed the deal. Lance was often a guest at those council meetings. Not to mention he would hunt Bellamy down if they went too long without really conversing. <br/>
<br/>
If Lance weren't so goddamned in love with women, Bellamy might have fallen for him years ago. Alas, things did not often go Bellamy's way and so they remained friends. <br/>
<br/>
"Rise and shine, princling," Lance crowed, spinning around with a huge grin plastered on his face. "I'm ready to meet your beautiful bride."<br/>
<br/>
Bellamy groaned again and burrowed further into his comforter, but it was too late. The servants were bustling in with a cart full of breakfast. Some of them peeled off to rummage through his closet for something for him to wear on his tour today. Bellamy was going to try to sleep through it, but the covers were yanked roughly downwards, leaving him cold and exposed. <br/>
<br/>
Bellamy groaned a third time and curled into a ball, covering his head with both arms. Bellamy wasn't even sure how Lance knew about the tour he was taking the twins on. He hadn't had the chance to tell him about it and neither Lance nor his father had been guests in the throne room when the plans had been made. That was just the way with Lance, though. He knew everything, one way or another. <br/>
<br/>
"Go away."<br/>
<br/>
Lance smacked Bellamy's thigh, making him yelp and jerk upright with a scowl. "We mustn't keep the prince and princess waiting, Highness," he mocked. <br/>
<br/>
Bellamy scowled. "Who says I'm letting you come?" <br/>
<br/>
"Your nerves," Lance answered with a smirk. <br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Right."<br/>
<br/>
Bellamy sighed and dragged himself out of bed. He ate quickly and let himself be dressed slowly, irritating the servants and generally getting in the way. When he was finally dressed and ready to go, Lance took his hand and dragged him sprinting down the hall. They arrived to the throne room, disheveled and out of breath. <br/>
<br/>
The prince and princess were already waiting inside and Bellamy smoothed out his clothes, doing his best to compose himself. "My apologies for the wait," he called, striding towards them with a wide grin. "I had a bit of a late morning, much to my chagrin. It's thanks to Lance here that I get anywhere on time.<br/>
<br/>
"I hope you don't mind if he joins us?" he asked, keep his expression open and earnest. Almost, but not quite, pleading with them to allow it. <br/>
<br/>
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