Chapter Eight: As True Love Is A Witness

The following morning felt strangely fragile. As though something invisible had shifted during the night.

Jeremy noticed it. Perhaps because he had barely slept.

Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the warmth of Kelvin's hand in his own. The memory lingered with startling clarity – the moonlight across the gardens, the exhaustion in the prince's voice, the quiet intimacy of that moment beneath the stars. Nothing improper had happened. Nothing romantic. And yet Jeremy could not stop thinking about it.

Which, unfortunately, was becoming a serious problem.

"You've smiled at absolutely nothing three times."

Jeremy nearly dropped the tray in his hands.

Oliver leaned comfortably against the kitchen doorway, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"I have not."

"You just did it again."

"I think you're imagining things."

"I think," Oliver said smugly, "that you look suspiciously happy for someone polishing serving trays before sunrise."

Jeremy rolled his eyes and returned to work.

The stable boy remained unconvinced. "Does this mysterious happiness have anything to do with a certain dark-haired prince who keeps appearing everywhere you go?"

Jeremy froze. Only for a second.

Unfortunately, Oliver noticed. The grin spreading across his face became unbearable. "Oh, this is extraordinary."

"Lower your voice."

"So it does involve the prince."

"It does not."

Oliver folded his arms triumphantly. "Jeremy Mercer, you are a terrible liar."

Before Jeremy could respond, Martha's voice thundered across the kitchens.

"Oliver Finch, if you aren't working within the next five seconds, I'll personally feed you to the horses."

The stable boy wisely retreated. Though not before flashing Jeremy an infuriatingly knowing smile.

Meanwhile, Jeremy sighed heavily. This was becoming quite serious. Not merely because of what he felt. Because people were beginning to notice.

*

Outside the kitchens, Evercrest Castle had transformed overnight. Noble carriages arrived throughout the morning. Servants hurried endlessly through the corridors carrying fabrics, silverware, floral arrangements, and documents. The castle buzzed with preparation.

Jeremy overheard fragments everywhere.

"The nobles arrived before dawn…"

"The annual Crown Hunt…"

"If the king worsens…"

"The queen wants everything prepared…"

The atmosphere had changed. Opening with the annual Crown Hunt, the kingdom was preparing itself for transition. For uncertainty. For a future nobody felt ready to face. Even the castle itself seemed aware of it. The halls felt busier. Heavier. Less like a home and more like the heart of a kingdom bracing for upheaval.

Jeremy carried fresh linens towards the library wing while nobles swept past him in embroidered silks and polished jewels. Since arriving at Evercrest, he had never felt this painfully aware of how small he truly was within this world – a servant among people born to power.

The thought unsettled him more than usual. Because lately, he had begun forgetting it whenever he was around Kelvin.

*

That afternoon, Jeremy encountered Elaine in the palace gardens.

The future queen sat alone under a flowering arbour. A book rested opened in her lap, but she looked up as he approached.

For a moment, Jeremy considered retreating.

Then Elaine smiled. "Jeremy."

"My lady." He bowed respectfully.

Elaine sighed deeply, glancing towards the palace. "He always liked these gardens."

Jeremy followed her gaze. He wasn’t sure who she meant. But with that burdened sigh, he suspected she was feeling devastated. "The king?"

She nodded. "When I was younger, he'd walk here with me." Her smile softened. "He treated me like family long before my engagement to Kelvin became official."

The confession surprised him. For some reason, he had never considered that Elaine might be grieving too. Yet why wouldn't she? She had known the king for years. Perhaps most of her life. Unexpectedly, he found himself seeing her differently. Not as the future queen. Not as Kelvin's betrothed. Simply as someone frightened of losing a person she loved.

"He speaks very highly of you."

The words caught him off guard. "I'm certain he's being generous."

But Elaine laughed softly. "He isn't."

The certainty in her voice startled him.

Elaine closed the book. "The king has always been an excellent judge of character."

Jeremy sought for a suitable response, not after she rose gracefully. For a moment, sadness lingered in her eyes. Then it vanished behind composure.

"Enjoy the evening, Jeremy."

And with that, she departed.

*

The prince himself was enduring a miserable afternoon.

Another council meeting had consumed nearly three hours. Discussions of succession blurred endlessly into conversations about alliances, finances, noble expectations, and contingency plans. Kelvin wanted to throw every document out the nearest window. Instead, he endured. Barely.

"And if the king becomes unable to rule officially," one advisor continued, "the council may need to accelerate—"

Kelvin stood abruptly. "I need air."

The movement startled the room into silence. And without waiting for permission, he walked out. The advisors exchanged nervous glances behind him. No one dared stop the future king.

Kelvin barely noticed where he was going. Only that his feet carried him instinctively through quieter corridors and away from suffocating expectations. Eventually, he reached the eastern gardens.

And there, kneeling beside a flowerbed while carefully trimming dead branches from climbing roses, was Jeremy.

Kelvin stopped walking. Something inside him eased immediately.

Jeremy looked up moments later. First, surprise crossed his face. Then warmth. That warmth had become dangerously easy to recognize. "Your Highness."

Kelvin approached slowly. "If you call me that while holding gardening shears, it feels vaguely threatening."

Jeremy laughed softly. The sound loosened something tight inside the prince's chest. "Should I bow while armed?"

"Preferably not."

The conversation settled into ease almost immediately. As though continuing something neither had fully ended the night before.

Jeremy set the shears aside. "You escaped again."

Kelvin sighed dramatically. "The council appears deeply committed to destroying my will to live."

Jeremy smiled. "That bad?"

"They spent forty minutes discussing ceremonial seating arrangements."

"Oh. Truly horrifying."

"You mock my suffering."

"A little."

Kelvin laughed quietly. But the sound faded into comfortable silence afterward.

A breeze drifted through the gardens, carrying the scent of roses and fresh earth. Somewhere nearby, fountains whispered under the afternoon sun. In that quiet moment, they simply existed beside each other. And somehow that alone felt meaningful.

Then Jeremy asked quietly, "How is the king today?"

The question softened Kelvin's expression immediately. "Tired. But awake."

Relief flickered briefly across Jeremy's face. Small, yet sincere.

Kelvin noticed. For some reason, that mattered to him. More than it probably should have. "You care about him," the prince said softly.

Jeremy looked surprised. "Of course I do."

Kelvin studied him. Most people cared about the king. But Jeremy spoke about him like a person rather than a ruler. The apparent contrast was heartening, it made him smile.

Suddenly, footsteps approached nearby, and both men turned sharply.

Lady Elaine Rosamund Valcourt emerged from the marble pathway leading towards the gardens. Sunlight caught against the silver embroidery of her pale blue gown. She looked elegant as ever, though faint exhaustion lingered behind her composure.

Her gaze moved first towards Kelvin. Then Jeremy. Then the gardening shears. A knowing smile touched her lips. "I see I've interrupted something involving flowers this time."

Jeremy nearly choked.

Kelvin looked deeply offended. "Why does everyone keep saying things like that?"

Elaine laughed softly. The sound carried warmth rather than suspicion. "I was looking for you," she said to Kelvin. "The council has apparently decided you cannot be trusted unsupervised."

"A terrible injustice."

"Mm. I'm inclined to agree with them."

Kelvin sighed dramatically enough to earn an eye-roll from Elaine.

Jeremy found himself relaxing slightly and quietly watched the exchange. There was genuine affection between them. History. Ease. They understood each other in ways only years could create. For reasons he would rather ignore, the realization left a strange ache inside him.

Perhaps Elaine noticed something shift in his expression. Because when Kelvin wandered briefly towards the nearby fountain to wash dirt from his hands, she remained beside Jeremy.

For a moment, silence settled between them.

Then Elaine spoke unexpectedly. "You're good for him."

Jeremy blinked. "My lady?"

She watched Kelvin across the gardens. "He smiles more lately." The honesty in her voice caught him off guard. Not accusation. Not jealousy. Simple observation.

Jeremy struggled for words. "I don't think that's because of me."

Elaine smiled faintly. "I think you'd be surprised."

Before he could respond, Kelvin returned. And the moment dissolved naturally, but Elaine's words lingered long afterward.