“You don’t suppose this comes off as too strong, does it?”
Cadence eyed the present that was beside their table. It was another bouquet that Blueblood had the gardeners put together… or to be more accurate, still putting together. The vase - if one could call it that - was as tall as the table and wide enough for her to jump in and out of. It was made out of colorful glass that Blueblood had imported from Istally where it had elaborate patterns and an elegant wave pattern at the very mouth of it. This monster of a vase was still being filled up with not just flowers and plants, but with stuff such as curvy glass rods, fairy lights, a while orange tree, and other strange knick-knacks.
“That depends,” Cadence sipped some of her juice. “How blunt do you want me to be?”
“Is it that bad?”
“Honestly, it’s not just gaudy, but even Las Pegasus would call this over the top. That, and I don’t know how anypony would fit it in their house - let alone transport it without breaking the two-ton vase.”
Blueblood groaned. “Well… What am I supposed to do? I’m already running out of ideas on what kind of flowers to give him.”
“Maybe you should expand your horizons, and realize that stallions would accept other things than just flowers and chocolates.”
Banging on the table, Blueblood huffed, “Chocolates! Why didn’t I think of that!?”
“Bluey,” Cadence said firmly. “Look, I know you want to impress your coltfriend but-”
“Now wait a minute, Langue isn’t my… Well, at least not officially but-”
Cadence lit up her horn to clamp his mouth shut, “Don’t interrupt. I have a point.” After clearing her throat she said, “As I was saying, I know you want to impress him, but I think you seriously need to think outside the box.” Then she let go of the prince’s mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Look at it this way. Suppose you were the one getting the gifts, what exactly do you ideally want from to show his affection?”
Blueblood blinked. “I… You know, I’ve never thought of it. I had been giving him flowers the past week because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to court somepony.”
“While the flowers are sweet, and the chocolates more so, I think you can do better than that.”
“How?”
Cadence pondered this for a moment. “Well, do you know what Langue likes?”
“I… somewhat, yes.”
“Okay, what?”
“He loves food. While he has a high standard of taste, he likes the comfort food from his home country. As well as fine wine.”
“Good,” Cadence nodded, “What else?”
“Well he… likes music.”
“Everyone likes music,” Cadence deadpanned, “can you be more specific?”
“He likes to listen to Buch during work. Listens to Prench jazz to unwind. And he recently said that he puts on a record of Debussy to fall asleep to.”
“Okay, that’s better. What are his interests?”
Blueblood blinked, “Besides stallions.”
“Yes.” Cadence flatly said.
He folded his forelegs, “Well I don’t see what any of this has got to do with anything.”
“The point being is that if you want to give him gifts, do so where there has been thought put into it. And I don’t just mean an appeal to his likes, but focus on things that have significance for him. Let’s say that I gave you a gift and it turns out to be the very outfit that… what’s-his-name wore for Saturday Night Fever, would you connect with the gift?”
“Well of course not-”
“Why?”
“Because…” He blinked, “I have no connection with disco.”
“Exactly. The same rule of hoof should go with giving gifts to Langue. In a way, it’s why it’s so important to get to know him as a way to show that you care. So instead of this,” she waved a hoof at the giant vase, “based on what you know, what do you think would be a better gift for him?”
For a while, Blueblood didn’t answer. On the one hoof, it was humiliating for him that despite all those times when Langue would whisper those sweet nothings - he’s still a mystery to him. Of course, there were some clues as to what he’s like now and then. But that’s all he knows - clues. Yes, he knows he prefers to listen to Buch while they work, but not so much as to why. Yes, the stallion does serve up food from his country and is willing to share, but has he ever tried anything else?
On the other hoof, what little he knows about him still inspires some ideas.
“You know what?” Blueblood smirked, “There is something better.”
When Langue walked into Blueblood’s office, he had expected to see another vase that had some flowers that were elaborately arranged on top. If he’s being honest with himself, even when he was about to move to a bigger house, he wouldn’t know where exactly he would place it anyway. The dining table already has three of them, two are in the living room, one in his bedroom on a dresser, while the latest one… well, he still wasn’t sure where he was going to put the gift that was about the size of an armchair. In a way, he hoped that maybe Blueblood would at best stop with these flowery gifts or maybe swap it with something cliche like chocolates - he would prefer eating those, rather than have Maximilian cook up flower salad for the next several weeks.
What he didn’t expect when walking through those double doors was a twin pile of boxes next to the phonograph. These boxes were stacked as high as he was. Each was wrapped in a blue silk bow, and one of them had his name on it. Blueblood sat behind his desk, who looked like a foal would when presenting the perfect present that they really want whoever they got it for to open.
“What is all this?” Langue asked.
“Do you like it?” Blueblood asked with a mile-wide grin.
Curious, Langue used his magic to levitate one of the boxes over to him. He untied the ribbon and flipped it open to see rows of records. He took out one of the disks to read the label. “Goldberg Variations BWV 988…” He picked up another. “Buch’s first violin sonata… You bought me recordings of Buch?”
“I did,” the prince nodded. “All of them.”
Langue blinked. “And when you say-”
“All of them. Yes, I do mean, all. I’m giving you records of Buch’s complete work. All played from period instruments, and these are the best critically acclaimed recordings of his music. This is my gift to you.”
Langue blinked again. “So all these boxes…” he gestured a hoof at them, “they have all of Buch’s one thousand and eighty pieces.”
“It includes his more recently discovered music, along with his unfinished pieces too. So,” he leaned forward, “do you like it?”
For a long minute, Langue didn’t respond as his mouth hung open. He went from box to box, taking off the ribbons and uncovering the scores upon scores of records over every piece he knew - and many that he never heard of. But it was all there. Cantatas, preludes and fugues, concertos, solos, chamber pieces and arias. It was all there! “Incroyable! (Unbelievable!)” He whispered aloud. “Sire… is this from your collection? You didn’t bought all-”
“It is.”
“What?”
“This is from my personal collection. I suppose you might have some of these records at home but these are of a higher quality.”
“.... And they’re… mine?”
Blueblood nodded.
For a while, Langue was speechless. It wasn’t that he had ever gotten gifts before from his past lovers but… this was on a new level. When he almost expected to walk in getting another vase of flowers, he couldn’t predict that Blueblood would willingly give him records from the prince’s personal collection. And he wasn’t just giving a few records to one of his favorite composers either, but the whole thing!
“Would you like to put one of them on?”
“Uh Oui, let me choose something…” After a minute or two of combing through some of the boxes, he came across a record that piqued his interest. Keyboard Concerto No 1 in D minor - BWV 1053. Then he set the record on the turntable, cranked the handle to get it to spin, and put the needle down. Out from the horn was the sound of strings that was strong, regal, confident but in a lively tone. Almost as if it was meant to be danced to. Then when the harpsichord came in like a rush of water down an empty stream, after listening to a few seconds of it he remarked above a whisper. “It’s flawless…”
“You like it!” Blueblood tapped his hooves excitedly. “I knew this would be a good gift for you.”
“This is a thoughtful gift, Your Majesty, merci.” Langue bowed.
A few minutes later while the record was still playing out the first movement, Langue had begun his work with arranging paperwork for the prince that day that Blueblood asked. “So… why Buch?”
“Sire?”
“Not that I have anything personally against him or anything, because otherwise why would I have this in my record collection.” He waved over to the boxes. “But I am curious, what, particularly about this music that you like?”
“Oh, well…” Langue thought it over for a moment, “I found his music so logical and well order and-”
“I think you misunderstood me. I’m not asking why Buch from an academic point of view. Just yours. What is it about what we’re hearing right now that appeals to you on a personal level?”
“Well…” He blinked. “In a way, I grew up listening to Buch.”
“How?”
“Mostly from my mother. You see, when I was growing up, she had aspirations of wanting to be a soloist at the piano. There were times when she would practice on it for about an hour a day, going through and dissecting scores of music books. And most of what she would practice was - of course - from Buch.”
“Was she good at it?”
Langue almost laughed, but he smiled nostalgically. “Let’s say that my Mother didn’t sing me any lullabies; she played them. I remember her telling me that when I was very little when I was upset and crying - one of the few things that soothed me was her playing the piano. There are very few, I think, that could match her gentle approach to Buch. She somehow managed to turn a prelude into the most calming, reassuring sound in the world.”
“Did you ever learn to play the piano?”
“I tried but, I’m sad to say, I do not have the talent. My hooves aren’t disciplined enough to work the intricacies of the keyboard. Though, it never prevented me from having a good ear to good performances.”
“Including other composers?”
“Well…” Langue shrugged. “As much as I have a soft spot for Buch and still do, I do not object to any music that expresses beauty. Even a hoofful of modern songs have this too. Yet, you may say that I’m an old soul when it comes to musical tastes. Be it from Lully, or SongBird - the music I like is where it gives into the sublime during work, relaxation, sleep.”
“Or love?” Blueblood asked.
Seeing this golden opportunity to woo and impress the prince, he held up an ear, taking a moment to listen to the phonograph. “If music do be the food of love, play on!” looking at Blueblood in the eye, he smirked, “Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! It had a dying fall: Oh, it came over my ear like the sweet south, that breathed upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving odeur!”
“.... Did you just quote Shakespur to me?”
“So what if I did? As I said, I have an ear for beauty - and an eye for it.” He winked at Blueblood.
Blueblood looked away, feeling his heart in his chest quickening. After coughing into his hoof he said, “Well, there is still much that needs to be done.”
“I know,” Langue grabbed his clipboard, “let us get to work.”
It has been a week since Cadance and Shining had to return to the Empire, yet encouraging Blueblood to keep in touch with them. And it has been a week since Langue had been gifted with a portion of the prince’s record collection. So far… Langue didn’t know what to think.
On the one hoof, it wasn’t that he was gifted by those he was scamming before. There have been plenty of times when those up-stuck mares would give him mere tokes such as flowers, chocolates, and even bits. The latter was what he was trying to get apart from some title that opened doors for him. Yet, with those gifts, they were hollow - much like their kisses and decorations of eternal love that he knew would shatter if they knew his real intent. To him, whenever any of these nobles gifted him with anything, there wasn’t much thought being put into them, thus making it so much easier when he does scam them.
But on the other hoof, that’s what made Blueblood’s latest gift so… difficult. Not that he was ungrateful for the gift, nor that he never used it - he was and he did. And he might not even feel guilty over it if the prince simply bought it for him. But the fact that irked him more than anything was that this was from the prince’s collection. And it wasn’t just a record or two of some good performances either - but every piece that Buch had ever written and done in the best, high quality playing - something that would cost Blueblood a fortune to replace, and yet, he gave to him willingly… And to top it off, he had asked him why he like the music he did… He was stuck.
In all the times he had scammed nobles by seducing them - this had never happened before. If Blueblood were, like so many others, just wanted him because of his charming good looks and his near-perfect body - that would be one thing. But the fact that he’s putting in the effort to get to know his likes and dislikes - and more importantly, why he likes or dislikes this or that - that spoke volumes.
“Caviar and cucumber, sir?”
Langue looked down at the tray he was offered, one of the light horderves that were floating around by the waiting staff. Slices of cucumber with a dab of crème fraiche, caviar and chives.
“Merci,” he took one of them to mindlessly look over the gathering that Blueblood had brought him along to. It was one of those gatherings where the elite of Canterlot came together for a charity benefit. Over what exactly, Langue wasn’t sure nor cared enough to ask what it’s about. Yet, at a home by someone named Count Ceaser, it appeared that anyone who is anyone was here. The mansion was nearly crowded with a cross-section of the wealthy, Equestrian politicians, a well-liked artist or performer or two, and nearly anyone who had any influence on the country as a whole. Since there were so many, the event was held in the ballroom that had many tall windows that looked out towards a park.
At the moment, Blueblood was speaking with one of these ponies. Fancy Pants, or at least, that’s the name that Langue heard. Blueblood said that he was the grand patron of the arts. But in truth, he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on.
But after a while of listening to the prince speaking to ponies, he didn’t care about, Blueblood finally turned to him. “How are you like this?”
“The horderves are alright, but this is not my kind of company.”
“Oh, you’re just saying that because you don’t know anyone. I have some friends here that I have known for years.”
“Is that so?”
Blueblood nodded, “It’s funny when I officially came out, I feared that I would lose all support, but now it just seems it’s stronger than ever. So perhaps I had nothing to fear anyway.”
Langue nodded, “If you say so.”
“Now… how are you so far?”
“In general?”
“Of course.”
“Well… Yesterday was busy as I got done moving to that villa you got for me. That, and I was able to hire a few more servants such as a cook, a maid, and a few hoofcolts to keep everything tidy. Overall, I say things are getting better.”
“Ah! I’m glad to hear.” Just then from the corner of the room, Blueblood spotted two ponies that were gathered with a few nobles that burst into laughter. “Oh! I haven’t introduced you to those two yet.”
“And who are they?”
“The mare on the right, the one who has a dijon yellow coat and a lavender swirl mane, that is Upper Crust. Next to her is her husband - Jet Set.”
“And which one is he?”
“He’s the gray stallion with the glasses. We used to go to boarding school together. You’ll like him, he’s quite cultured like you are.”
As they got closer to the laughing nobles, who seemed completely unaware of them in their conversation at first, Blueblood seemed to be looking forward to meeting these ponies. He went up to them, “Jet Set, Upper Crust, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
What they had expected to see was the polite, warm smiles from the other ponies that Langue had seen throughout the evening - they were instead met with frowns, even some (the stallions especially) had backed away. Even Jet Set, who Blueblood had offered a hoof to shake with, looked at it as if it was covered in mud.
“Oh… Prince Blueblood…” Jet lit his horn to take out a handkerchief to push the hoof away. “I didn’t expect you would be here.”
“Well of course I would be here.” Blueblood blinked in confusion. “It’s Count Caesars’s charity benefit, you know I wouldn’t miss it.” He looked between the two, “What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you in a long time, I thought you would like to see me.”
“Why?” Upper Crust questioned.
“Because I’m your friend.”
Jet Set sighed, “Look, I don’t want to make judgments, but it is rather awkward having you here. And look, for all we know, you’re just going through hard times with this phase.”
“Phase?” Blueblood blinked and tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, “What are you referring to?”
“Just… this,” he waved a hoof around the prince. “Frankly I just find it odd that for someone as stallionly as you could come across such a sissy.”
Now that got Langue’s attention.
“I…” Blueblood’s eyes widened, his face taken aback at what he heard. “E-Excuse me?”
“Blueblood, as a friend, I know you can be flamboyant at times, but did you have to lie to the press that you’re a stallion stuffer? I mean, I still find it hard to believe. Surely this is all just a practical joke, right? No gentlecolt in his right mind would just go out and say he’s gay. So, that’s what all of this is - just a prank.”
Langue couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and looking at Blueblood, he saw something that he had never seen before - hurt.
“But…” Blueblood looked as if he was on the edge of tears. “But I’m-”
“Oh don’t be so dramatic, we both know you’re not gay. I mean look at you, you’re a stallion-stallion, the kind that mares would line up around the block just to get a piece of you, not a colt-cuddler who gets off in some filthy back alley from a glory hole. As friends, we only associate those who are sane, normal kind of ponies. No pansies allowed, remember?”
“But Jet…” the heartbreak in the Prince’s eye was made clear as a tear ran down his cheek. “I-I’m not-”
Jet Set also saw this and blinked, “Wait, you can’t really be a fa-”
Langue slapped him. Hard. Hard enough to knock him to the ground. It was so shocking, so unexpected, that it seemed everything went quiet. Even Blueblood couldn’t believe what just happened.
“Ow!” Jet rubbed his cheek that had a noticeable red hoof-shaped mark. “What was that fo-”
“You do not talk like that before your Prince!” Langue grabbed Jet by the collar. “A gentlecolt like you pretend to be would NEVER say anything so thoughtless, so crude, and so disrespectful!”
“Who the hay are you?”
“Your problem you désolée excuse d'un stupide, bigot, inculte, indifférent, irrespectueux, venimeux, poignardant, sans cœur, lâche, arrogant, bâtard! I don’t care how influential you are, you have no excuse for saying anything like that to anyone, NONE!” He held him close, forcing him to look in the eye, “I don’t care how homophobic you are, you get back on your hooves and apologize RIGHT now!”
If anyone in that ballroom wasn’t listening to that little drama that was happening in the corner - they were now. Everything was as quiet as a graveyard from that outburst. All eyes and ears were focused on Langue - and he didn’t care. Instead, he tossed Jet at Blueblood’s hooves.
Even Blueblood, who, as offended and hurt as he was, was stunned from his burst of anger. Even though he didn’t understand half of what Langue said in Prench, there were plenty of words that vocally shouted what he could never say.
Jet got up but almost left the room as all eyes were on him. But Langue didn’t give him that chance as he grabbed him by the tail with his teeth to yank him back. Even spinning him around with a death glare. “Do not make me ask twice.”
After a gulp from Jet, he faced Blueblood with a nervous bow, “My apologies, Blueblood.” Then, after neither of them said anything else, Jet and Upper Crust awkwardly made their exit.
Langue, heaving, finally noticed how everyone else was looking at him. Many were intimidated while Blueblood was in awe of what happened. Then, after taking in a few deep breaths, he backed away, “I… need some air.” He turned around to find a door.
When he walked out into the cool air, Langue was washed in deep embarrassment. ‘Why did I do that? I can’t believe I just lost it back there! You short-sighted hot-tempered idiot! Now you’ve done it! Everything is going to fall apart from this outburst. I bet Blueblood would have nothing to do with you after this! And to top it off, you made such a scene in front of the elite of Equestria - so no turning back after that fiasco!’
Another deep breath and he looked to the sky. By now the sun had set, turning it into a deep purple with Luna’s stars appearing overhead. ‘What is going on? You never acted around anyone like this before. Those aristocrats you’ve secluded aren’t even worth loving but… why did you do that? Why stand up for Blueblood of all ponies? He’s just one of them… is he…?’
He looked up to the moon that rose from the sky. ‘I want to say he is but… how many would go the extra mile to give up a portion of one’s prized possession to me? How many would make the effort to know why Buch is important to me - and understand it on my level? Strange how I can’t remember. No mare would treat me like this - well… not even stallions… alright, just him, but still! Blueblood… he was clearly hurt by his so-called friend and yet… What is going on? I know that the mares he dated said he didn’t have a heart but… he cried. One doesn’t cry if one doesn’t have a heart. Could it be… am I wrong about him? That he isn’t a shallow, evil sort of pony that deserves to be scammed…?’
Looking over his shoulder at the party, he wondered, ‘Have I gone too far? I mean, yes I’m pretending to like him but… he doesn’t deserve this. Should I stop now, call all of this off before I make this worse?’
One of the glass doors opened and Blueblood stepped out. “Are…” he sniffed, wiping a tear from his eye, “are you alright?”
“I… oui.” He nodded before turning to the prince. “Your Grace, I didn’t mean to lose my head back there, I didn’t know what came over-”
“No,” Blueblood cleared his throat, “you have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I-”
“You did something surprising for me tonight. You stood up for me when I couldn’t.” He walked over and hugged in. Whispering. “Just… thank you…”
One side of Langue told him that he has to stop this now, tell him the truth and break it off while he still can. But at the same time… even if he didn’t like Blueblood that way, the prince had experienced a betrayal - an emotional slap in the face from someone he once trusted. For a moment, he wondered if breaking off with him now would make it worse. This stallion that was enveloping him isn’t the heartless beast that everyone thinks he is - just someone that is more fragile than glass. And desperately needs someone to be there with him at such a difficult moment.
Langue hugged back. “Will you be alright, Your Majesty?”
“Right now, no.” Blueblood broke the hug. “Tonight is… not a good night. So if you wish to return home you should be allowed to-”
“Would you like to come?” Langue asked. The prince was taken aback at the request. “It’s just I have a feeling that you need someone by your side for tonight until you recover.”
“Oh no, I shouldn’t impose-”
“You won’t be. Besides, I don’t think you’ve seen the villa you gifted me with. Perhaps you could stay the night with me there.” Blueblood blushed so Langue quickly added, “N-No! Nothing like that! I’m not suggesting...” He let out a frustrated huff. “I was thinking more about doing something together like watching a film on the couch or just relaxing.”
“So just… cuddling?”
“I, well…” Langue cleared his throat, “I suppose that is what I’m implying. Something innocent yet comforting.”
“Oh… for a moment there I thought that-”
“Please, Your Majesty, even we Prench have an etiquette when it comes to that sort of thing. Even a uh… courtesan have a standard to abide by before they go having sex. To be frank with you, we haven’t exactly reached that point.”
“I understand,” Blueblood nodded, his melancholic expression growing a small smile. “Yet, I would like that nonetheless. Just to be with someone from an awful night like this.”
Langue hummed in thought, “Well at least it’s not too far away…”
“May we walk there?”
“You? Walking without a palanquin! Oh mon Dieu! (Oh dear Lord!) What is the world coming to!” Langue dramatically mocked.
“Hey, I don’t use it to be carried around all the time.” Blueblood pointed out, “And besides, it’s just about a block or two away in the more secure part of Canterlot so I shouldn’t have to worry about security.”
Langue signed and agreed to walk him to his new home. He knew that things have now gotten more complicated - that even though he knew he should break it off - now wasn’t the best time to do that. A more heartless pony would have easily, during their walk, just say to Blueblood that they should see other ponies and left him right there in the streets by himself. Maybe as they passed underneath the lights of the streetlamps, he could probably say that he already has a marefriend or something.
Unfortunately, Langue was not that kind of a pony.
While he pondered his predicament, going past through mansions of the wealthy and powerful, ignoring their gardens that peaked over, or even the lamp posts that were being lit, even ignoring the soft chirping of crickets that echoed in the fresh, cool air - he was pulled out unexpectedly when Blueblood asked him a simple question:
“How did it happen?”
Langue blinked, “Pardon?”
“You said you fled to Equestria because of a scandal involving another stallion. How did it happen?”
“Well uh…” Langue hesitated, trying to think quickly to compose another lie. “I suppose you could say I was uh… tricked.”
“How?”
He gulped, “Until recently, I thought myself as straight since I had been into mares as long as I can remember but…”
Blueblood raised an eyebrow, “But?”
“Well, one day an old… friend of mine… he had recently gotten out of a terrible divorce, you see. I recall that he was just devastated that his wife had left him. So you can imagine, Sire, how much in a chaotic mess he was in. Constantly flowing with tears and wondering where it all went wrong. But when I came, he was so desperate for even the slightest of affection that anything I did seemed like a gift from the gods. But then, when it got to the point where I had to leave him, he… well…”
“Was he clingy?”
“If you count him kissing me, then oui. I mean, it was just so… unexpected and yet… I didn’t push away. It was hard to describe but I… well, I kissed back. Then one thing led to another and you can guess where this is going, no?”
Blueblood nodded, but despite the tinge of pink on his cheeks, Langue thought for a moment he saw a glint of jealousy in his eye.
“It went on for about a month until I received something… unpleasant in the mail. It was from his wife that had taken so many pictures of me and him. Turns out, he wasn’t divorced after all, but they ran this scheme of blackmail. And if I didn’t pay, those pictures would go to the press. But I didn’t have the money and… well, you can only imagine the aftermath of that.”
“What happened?”
“Well… what your friend said about you… let’s just say he was kind compared to what I had to face. Garbage was thrown at me while I walked in the street. Passerbyers shouting insults. Any event from Prance society had dropped me out completely. And it kept happening every single day to the point where… I couldn’t take it. I had to leave.”
Blueblood suddenly stopped and, without warning, hugged him. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Pulling away, he smiled at him, “I promise, that as long as you’re with me, you’ll never have to face something like that ever again.” And also without warning, he finished with a peck on the cheek.
Langue was taken completely aback, even cupping his cheek with a hoof. “Did you just…?”
The prince blinked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No just… I didn’t... you…” While Langue struggled to find the right words, Blueblood saw something that up until that night he had never seen before - Langue blushed. When he finally spoke he said, “I didn’t think you would be this bold, sire.”
“My apologies, I didn’t know I was crossing a line.”
“All is forgiven, but uh… let’s continue, shall we?”
For a while, the two walked together. While neither said a word, there was plenty to interpret from their faces and body language. Blueblood walked next to him, closely, almost mere inches away from their shoulders rubbing up against each other. His mood from before had lighted into hope. While Langue, on the other hoof, seemed stiff and awkward walking by him, his face looked away from Blueblood, wondering if he had unintentionally made things worse.
It wasn’t long until they’ve reached Langue’s new home - which made it all the more obvious from the twin flags of Equestria and Prance saluting them at the front door. As to Blueblood’s promise - it was much larger and more refined than the previous residence. A facade of white marble being flanked by rose bushes, tall windows, and a blue roof. Passing through the front door, it leads them to a round, grand foyer in the neoclassical style of columns, a twin staircase, and a glass skylight that let in the light of the moon from above.
From the second floor, Maximilian walked out to the top of the stairs, “Monsieur? Je ne pensais pas que tu reviendrais si tôt. (Sir? I didn’t think you would come back so soon.)” The butler eyed Blueblood, “Et c'est quoi? Vous avez amené votre ami poulain avec vous? (And what’s this? You brought your colt friend with you?)”
Langue rolled his eyes, “Ce n'est pas ce que tu penses. Le Prince n'a pas été respecté et je l'ai juste amené ici pour lui remonter le moral. (It’s not what you think. The Prince was disrespected and I just brought him here to cheer him up.)”
“Oh?” The butler looked between him and Blueblood as he made his way down the staircase. “Alors, quand vous dites ‘lui remonter le moral’, cela signifie-t-il que vous voulez que je vous apporte une protection avant de vous laisser? (So when you say ‘Cheering him up’, does that mean you want me to bring you two some protection before leaving you be?)”
“Quoi! (What!)”
“What did he say?” Blueblood asked.
Maximilian chuckled.
Langue let out a frustrated moan, “Non, rien de tel. (No, nothing like that.)” Then after taking in a calming breath, he said, “Cependant, je demande à apporter des bonbons dans ma chambre, ainsi que le projecteur de films et un choix de bons films. (However, I do request to bring up some sweets up to my room, along with the film projector and a choice of good movies too.)”
Maximilian raised an eyebrow, and in a teasing tone, “Tu es sûr que c'est tout ce que tu veux que j'apporte? (Are you sure that’s all you want me to bring?)”
Langue snorted, but Blueblood tapped him on the shoulder, “Could you ask him to bring up some wine? I would like a drink if that’s alright.”
It wasn’t that Blueblood had never had the time to relax before. Contrary to what he let others see of him as a workaholic to maintain international relationships for Equestria, he often has a ritual of soaking in a warm bath while he puts on something tranquil on the phonograph. Perhaps snuggle up to a good book with a glass of wine or feel the warmth of the fire on cold nights. Yet… this was a new experience for him.
On a couch with plenty of padded pillows and a fleece blanket that was as fuzzy as rabbit’s fur and smooth as satin, he lay there with Langue next to him. Much to Langue’s word, they didn’t do anything except just lay there, side by side while watching an old black-and-white movie on the wall of Langue’s bedroom. Though, the prince wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on in the movie. Instead, he focused on this strange but welcoming sensation of feeling the stallion’s body warmth that covered his back and hooves entangled around him like a protective blanket.
Blueblood didn’t consider it as bad by any means but… odd. He didn’t want to admit it to Langue, but he wasn’t used to having another stallion be this intimate before. As if he was welcomed into a realm that he had read in those romance novels that were exclusive to only true lovers. Yet, this was just all so casual. In his hooves, Blueblood felt a security that he rarely experienced before. Like he was free to do or say anything and yet, know that he would still be in those caring hooves.
At the same time, despite being in such a position, Blueblood could tell that Langue seemed to be on edge. He may not have said a word about it, but remembering what he said earlier, he wondered if Langue was trying his best to be careful around him. In a way, this made the prince feel that as much as this stallion was going out of his way to make him more comfortable about who he is - it seemed that Langue was paying a price for that.
“Langue?”
“Hm?”
Blueblood looked over his shoulder, seeing Langue was looking at the movie being projected on the wall. “Can I ask you something?”
“Oui.”
“Does the way you give somepony a kiss mean something different?”
Now, this got Langue’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“The way you say hello and goodbye to me,” Blueblood explained, “is that you tend to kiss both cheeks. It got me thinking about what I did back there on the street when I just kissed one side of your cheek. Did it mean something to you?”
“It uh… depends on who you ask.” Langue shifted a little. “In places like Prance or Istally, La bise is often seen as a greeting, true. But also as a sign of showing respect as well. Something to how you shake hooves.”
“I know that, but in the way you give a kiss, does doing it differently indicate a different message?”
“Well… You notice how I made sure that we had our cheeks touched for La bise first?” Blueblood nodded, “If you just went straight into only kiss someone on the cheek first… well, it’s a clear sign that someone wants to become much more uh… intimate. So when you did it I was just… taken aback is all.”
Blueblood huffed with a blush, “To be fair, you have been blatantly flirting with me. I mean, what about the time you kissed me on the nose?”
“That was just me being a tease. If anyone from Prance caught me doing that, they would say I’m being… how do you say… childish.”
“That was childish?” Blueblood raised an eyebrow.
“Well… what can I say, I am immature on some things, guilty as charged.”
“You make it sound like I don’t like that sort of thing.”
Langue blinked, “You… don’t mind?”
“As much as I appreciate ponies being mature around me when the circumstances call for it - having that burst of something foalish from time to time is… refreshing. Gives just needed life into something so mundane, if that makes sense.”
“So… you liked being teased?”
“Well - not to the point of being patronized but… you get the idea, right?”
“I suppose.”
Blueblood shifted to where his head could crane over to Langue’s face, “What about you?”
“Moi?”
“Yes, is there something you like me to do as well?”
Langue froze, uncertain how to answer that.
Blueblood read his facial expression, “Wait… do you know how you liked to be shown affection?”
“Well, it’s not… I mean…” Langue shifted away, embarrassment on his cheeks and his ears folded back betraying him. “With mares, yes, but stallions… I’m rather… inexperienced.” For once, Langue was telling the truth.
Blueblood took hold of his hoof and held it. Langue looked between his hoof and his eyes. “What do you want me to-”
“C'est bon!” Langue jerked away as if he had touched something hot. Then, he quickly added, “I-I mean… this is fine… Oh bons dieux! (Oh good gods!)” he let out a frustrated sigh, “Please, forgive me, my Prince. I know up to this point I have been making myself so confident and such but… I don’t know what I’m doing. I really do want to impress you and all I have been doing all evening is making one klutzy mistake after another.”
“Langue,” Blueblood cupped his cheek, making him look at him, “believe it or not, I’m in the same boat as well. I mean… I may have developed crushes very easily in the past, but never had anything this real before. I never had someone that I would call a coltfriend, yet… you’ve come the closest. The truth is, I’m not absolutely sure what I’m doing either.”
He nodded, “I understand, sire.”
“But all I want,” Blueblood craned his neck over to where his burning cheek touched Langue’s, “is to make you feel loved,” he kissed it before going to the other cheek, “as you have made me,” and kissed again.
Langue let out a soft laugh, gently pushing Blueblood away with his face turning red. “My Prince, how many glasses of wine have you had?”
“I hardly touched mine.” As he pulled away, he looked at Langue who averted his eyes. “What’s wrong, don’t you like me kissing you.”
“I’m more used to giving affection than receiving. It’s altogether strange. Because I don’t believe I have done anything to deserve such.”
“Nonsense, you shouldn’t be the one doing all the work. I want to give those kisses, not as a reward, but because I felt that you should get them. Although, I must say it will take a while for me to get used to the idea.”
“Well uh…” Langue yawned, “maybe, we should get some sleep? You can borrow my bed while I rest here-”
“No,” Blueblood laid his head back down, his back scooched up against Langue’s withers. “The movie’s not over, I want to stay until it finishes.”
“But-”
“That’s an order,” Blueblood said half-singing.
Langue sighed, “Oui, mon prince.”
From there, they lay there silent on the couch, Langue continued to watch the movie while he held Blueblood in his forelegs. Although he watched, he wasn’t paying attention as his thoughts turned to the stallion that was cozying up to him. He wondered what exactly he should do. There was a part of him that told him that maybe he should try to con somepony else, maybe he should give that new Princess or a celebrity a try. After all, Equestria must have its share of wealthy or powerful ponies that he could seduce his way into total security.
Yet, in his arms was his biggest obstacle of all. Although they weren’t technically coltfriends by any binding means, this whole situation says otherwise. The Prince was cuddled up to him in his own home - in his bedroom no less! All on a couch watching an old movie like a couple. And the way they have been talking! Yes, the whole plan originally was to get Blueblood to fall for him - but as far as Langue saw it, it probably had worked too well.
Looking around his large bedroom that was big enough to fit a house in, he knew that all of this came about because he had conned Blueblood into getting this for him. On top of his new staff of servants and luxuries, he could live out the rest of his life as a king. Yet… from what he’s seen from Blueblood, it seemed that this was all in poor taste because he was taking advantage of someone who doesn’t deserve to be conned in the first place.
Eventually, the movie had run out of film so Langue used his magic to turn the projector off.
“Now then, time for bed.” He said to Blueblood, but the prince didn’t respond. “Blueblood?”
Then he heard a soft snore.
‘Oh fantastic,” Langue thought, his mouth twisted into a deep frown. ‘How did I not notice him falling asleep? So what do I do now? I can’t move without disturbing him in some way. That can’t mean that I’m stuck here for the night… right?’ But as far as he saw it, there wasn’t much in his knowledge of magic nor any trick that he could do that wouldn’t stir the prince awake.
He let out a sigh, ‘This is just going to end up as a major disaster.’ He thought, ‘Eventually, he’ll figure out that I have been lying to him this whole time and he’ll more than likely have me put into prison, or executed… or worse. Yet, it’s not just breaking his lonesome heart that will make this painful, but I have been manipulating someone that isn’t as terrible as everyone else makes him out to be. The only way I can see out of this is to get him to stop seeing me - perhaps I should say that I’m quitting, or that we should just be friends and nothing more. And do it in a way where he would be the least broken up by the news. But whatever way I do it, I have got to tell him soon.’ He yawned, feeling how exhausted he was, he summoned his magic to bring out a record on the phonograph to start playing Debussy. And adjusting it on low volume, Langue shut his eyes. And as he listened to the whispering lulls of the dreamlike piano, he thought ‘Tomorrow… Tomorrow I will tell him.”