Behind the desk of the prince’s office, Blueblood sat in his chair. His hooves together, back hunched over as he listened to every word Langue was telling him. Across from him, Langue stood before the desk like he was summoned to appear before a judge over a crime he committed.
It was the most stressful moment of Langue’s life, and Blueblood knew it. With only him in his grand office, paying close attention to Langue’s confession. He listened in how quietly, how embarrassed he was to lay it all out to him. And even his body language, the confidence that he swoons under the day he first met was replaced by a timid stallion who acted more like a foal who was caught red hoofed in the act.
He listened to how he was never born as a Lord, and neither was his family. While they did live in Bordeaux and grew grapes to make wine - they never owned the land. He told him how he started out as an actor, usually tight-casted for romantic leads that mares swoon over. He further explained how he figured out how to con those mares for money or status just by seducing them were, he had hoped, he would have done the same with Blueblood.
“So let me see if I understand this.” The prince said, “Originally, you were going to seduce me long enough for me to get you a secure position in Equestria - especially among the Canterlot elite. And you were going to work your way up to become so wealthy and influential that you wouldn’t need me anymore, that as soon as you got everything, you would dump me.”
“.... That was the plan. This was coming from someone that thought you would be an arrogant snob. If that were the case, Prince Blueblood, I would have left you months ago.”
Blueblood shifted his seat. “But then, something happened that made you change your mind. Although I’m curious, what was it?”
“Sire?”
“What was that turning point where you went from I’m going to scam him to… where we are now?”
Langue took a deep breath. “Do you recall when some noble had belittled you and I got angry?” He nodded. “To be honest with you, that was the first time I’ve ever seen anyone so closed-minded, so bigoted, so arrogant… Here you are, a prince, and yet, you have dished out insults because of your sexuality. What changed my mind was that I saw you cry.”
Blueblood raised an eyebrow, “Why would that change your mind?”
“Because the heartless don’t shed tears. Since that night, I questioned if you deserved to be scammed. But the more we got to know one another and you showed my genuine affection, the more difficult it was to bring anything up because I knew it would upset you.”
Nodding, the prince said, “You do know what you’ve done is a serious felony.”
Langue’s ears folded back. “I have nothing in my defense - I’m guilty. What I’ve done to you - you didn’t deserve it. I…” he swallowed, “will accept whatever punishment you deem fit for me.”
Humming, Blueblood leaned back in his seat, “Before I say anything, I want to know one thing from you.”
“What’s that?”
“Langue, I want you to look me in the eye and choose your next words very carefully… In all the past few months since we got to know each other, do you have feelings for me?”
For a long minute, Langue didn’t say anything, yet the prince could tell that he was spending that time composing an answer for him. From his shifting eyes, he saw that Langue seemed conflicted. Should he tell the truth? Lie again? Give something in between?
“It depends,” he finally answered, “do you want the truth or with sugar?”
“What does that mean?”
“Does His Majesty wish it to be blunt or have it be sugar-coated?”
Blueblood frowned, “Truth.”
Langue took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. Not once taking his eyes off of him. “If you had asked me to be absolutely truthful on the day we first met, I would have answered ‘No’ in a heartbeat. I would even go as far to say that I’m not interested in stallions at all…”
“And now?”
“.... I’m confused. Back when we started months ago, I thought I could easily end this whenever I wanted to. Yet… for the longest time I didn’t know why… and still don’t understand… is how I wasn’t disgusted being physically near you. Why I wasn’t weirded out when we cuddled until we fell asleep. Why I didn’t push you away from all the times you pecked me on the cheeks? Why did I blush around you when I didn’t feel embarrassed? How could I stand showering together knowing that you feel attracted to me? Why, with all the mares I’ve dated, that I never felt this close to open up emotionally - something I taught myself that should be kept under lock and key? And then when you kissed me last night and I felt compelled to kiss back…”
Never once did Langue look away, and though he was trembling in his voice, apologetic in tone - what troubled Blueblood the most was that it was filled with shame.
“I know I’m attracted to mares,” he continued, “yet with you… I don’t know if you’re somehow the exception, maybe I swing both ways and never knew it, or maybe something else entirely. Whatever it is, it has left me in such doubt about who I am that… I don’t know anymore. Yet, what I do know out of all of this confusion is that trying to break up with you last night… that was the hardest, painful thing I’ve ever done. And you kissed me… I have kissed many mares in the past but… for some reason, it always felt awkward like putting two pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit together. Yet with you… it was the first time that a kiss was so intimate, so soul-touching, and yet… I felt whole. Like finding a missing piece of myself that I never knew. And it terrified me at first because I wanted more of it.”
Now everything made sense. Blueblood could see why Langue behaved the way he did over these past few months. He wasn’t just afraid of losing him - but of the possibility that he does find attractive after all. And clearly has.
The prince took a deep breath. “I have been in your horseshoes before.” He began. “You remind me so much as a teenager to the point that it’s eerie. I still remember it being a scary and confusing time when I was questioning what I am sexually. While it is, on the one hoof, upsetting that you have lied to me this whole time. To me, this isn’t what I’m most concerned about.”
“Sire?”
Blueblood held a hoof. “What concerns and scares me, above all else, is that you’re looking at all of this with shame. To find yourself being attracted to the same sex when you’ve been taught your whole life that it should be the other way around… I have been there. It is a dark, lonely road where the thought of being outed is enough to kill you. It is a path of paranoia and denial where you have to get up and lie to yourself every single day of your life.
“Yet,” the prince added, “you have shown me another path where you can be your own, weird self - and that is okay. Where you don’t have to be scared of showing affection to another in fear of being judged harshly. It’s a road where you can be as you are, and not as you ought to be. In my life, I have been down both paths, and I’d rather go down the one you’ve pointed me towards. And I’ve seen what’s on the other end.”
Langue nodded. “This place… would there be enough room for someone like me?”
“Plenty,” Blueblood smiled, “for my Consort.”
Langue looked at him with surprise. “Quoi!? (What!?) But, Prince Blueblood… I just admitted to you that I’m a con artist! That I have been manipulating and lied-”
“And you’re attracted to me,” the prince pointed out, “do you deny that?”
“I… well… it’s just…” Langue stumbled over his words.
“As consort, you are given a clean slate. That means that whatever you have done in the past, as of today - that has been wiped off. Completely blank to me. What matters now, is that you are my royal consort. My equal in everything except in the title.” With a smirk, he added, “That only happens when we’re married.
“Now as a token of my faith in you, I will grant you full free-range in how our dates and level of intimacy shall be.”
“.... Free-range?”
“That means you will have complete control over how close we shall be. Let you handle this relationship in your own way, at your own pace.”
“.... But I don’t understand. Why give such control over to me?”
“Because, though I can safely say you have won my heart, I have yet to do the same with yours. I have almost but not quite reached that same level as you have for me. In other words, Monsieur Langue, I will have to work my way into your heart. You may set up how these future dates would go, but I have to earn your feelings.”
Langue stared at him, unmoved. Before Blueblood could ask, Langue said, “So… just like that?”
“Well I figured it would be fair for you to-”
“No, not that. You’re letting me go, just like this? I told you in detail how I intended to social climb and dig into your wealth through flattery - and yet you do this? No punishment? No stripping down of my title? No… nothing? I spent this whole morning explaining how I lied to your face, and you are just going to forgive me?”
Blueblood raised an eyebrow, “Were you expecting me not to? Yes, it would be easy for me to come down hard on this. If I wanted, I could have sent you to a law court for you to be thrown in with a den of lawyers to tear you to pieces. It would have taken no effort on my part to take everything I have given you away and banish you from Equestrian soil for as long as you lived.
“Yet, as easy for me to do any of those things, you are forgetting two important things.”
Langue blinked, “Which is?”
“First, up until last night, I haven’t elevated you past the status of Baron. On top of you just being my historian, doing a job that would be proven stressful to anyone else. In other words, I could take what I have given you away, only I see that I haven’t given you much in my eyes.
“Second, you are aware that I am related to an aunt who was banished to the moon for a thousand years for nearly overthrowing Celestia and intended to establish eternal night. My aunt Celestia has every reason - every right - to have Luna be executed for high treason. Yet, even when she was defeated, Celestia still found within her to forgive her, even when Equestria wasn’t so quick to do so. I see that it would be a betrayal of my family if I didn’t extend that same forgiveness for lesser offenses like yours.”
“But… why?”
Blueblood smiled, “I have told you once in that hidden hot spring, and I will repeat it here. This time, giving it to you fully and completely.” Clearing his throat, he recited. “The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed: it blesseth him that gives and him that takes. ‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned monarch better than his crown. His scepter shows the force of temporal power, the attribute to awe and majesty wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; but mercy… is above this sceptered sway. It is enthroned in the hearts of kings; it is an attribute to Faust Herself; and earthly power doth then show likest her’s when mercy seasons justice.”
Getting up from his desk, he walked around it but still held eye contact with Langue. “Therefore, you, though justice be thy plea, consider this: that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation. We do pray for mercy, and that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy. I have spoken thus much to mitigate the justice of thy plea, which, if thou follow, this strict court of Canter must needs give sentence against thy own self there.”
Langue was on the verge of tears. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to figure out what to say to all of that. However, wiping the tears from his eyes, he did remark. “Incroyable. (Unbelievable.) Rendered speechless by a Shakespur monologue.”
The prince chuckled as he embraced his consort. In this tender moment, Langue hugged back. “Merci beaucoup. (Thank you so much.)” He whispered. Yet, even at this moment where he was shown the greatest act of mercy towards him, in his mind there resided one question.
Now what?