Prologue

There’s legends, today.
About long-past lands, in long-past times, there’s legends. The countries of the past fell, the heroes got forgotten, but the stories still carry on.
This story will not be about the great heroes of the olden times, though. It will be about two men that have been reduced to a footnote in today’s history books, a folkloric tale that lives within us to this day. I know you know the story, dear children. When you ask your parents about true love, it will be this story that they tell you. That true love will prevail through all, and that it will lead to a happy marriage.
But, the tale has been twisted, little ones, twisted by times and misremembered parts. It wasn’t true love that led to marriage, no. No, they married before they loved each other, before they even really knew each other. Their tale would be used for centuries to justify arranged marriages, to show that even then, love can develop.
Today, I’m going to tell you the legend of The Princes of Starryholt. And their names were Bdubs and Etho.

First Chapter

Before Etho became a legend, he was just some dude. He was the adopted younger son of a king, and he was largely unremarkable. It was the way he liked it, really. Over the years he had stood at Crown Prince Ren’s side, he had perfected the art of being unremarkable to the point where you could ask any citizen of Edrea and the only thing they would be able to say about Prince Etho of Edrea was “He is always wearing a veil”. If you asked the guards of the castle, some might be able to remember that he was really good with a sword, but that was about the pinnacle of public knowledge about him.
“You’re a social hermit,” Ren joked as Etho was practicing his archery. He was fairly sure Ren was only hanging around him right now was because he was avoiding his squire Martyn, who had been tasked with trying to wrestle Ren into a parade uniform for the visit of the royal ambassadors of Ostal. Etho, being the younger son, adopted and also proclaimed social hermit, didn’t have any obligations to be there, but he would be anyway. He couldn’t leave Ren to the wolves. Or, since Ren probably would flourish amongst wolves, he couldn’t subject him to the bores of politics without backup. 
“I’m going to be sent to the North, I don’t need to win a popularity contest. There’s like a handful of people that I need to like me to survive,” Etho answered as he fired another arrow. It hit bullseye.
“Don’t remind me, the other day this young lordling tried to get into my pants for the crown,” Ren started complaining, before looping back to the last part of Etho’s statement. “Who are the people?”
“What people”
“The people you need to like you or you’ll die.”
Etho twisted to shoot a glare at Ren lying spread out in the grass. 
“I did not-“ he hissed out, before leveling his voice. Ren knew him like the back of his hand, he would never hear the end of this. “I did not say that. I said I need them to like me to survive, so I won’t be killed. And most of those people dislike me already.”
“I don’t dislike you,” Ren helpfully offered. A chuckle worked its way into Etho’s throat, but before it could escape his lips, he knocked another arrow. He wondered if he should let Ren believe that Etho would be safe up north, or if he should mention just how much the north didn’t want to be ruled by Edrea. 
“Unfortunately, your love for me is not enough to ensure my survival, brother,” Etho mumbled just as the arrow hit the target right next to the previous one. He kind of hoped that Ren hadn’t heard him. There was enough to worry about him in Edrea. There was no reason to make him worry about Etho too. After all, he wouldn’t be up there on his own, and the North wasn’t as savage as their father liked to believe. The people there could be talked to, and as long as he didn’t somehow insult the Fairy King, he would be fine. 
“Tell that to my sword when it chops the head off someone who doesn’t like you,” Ren joked, but they both knew that the light heartedness they had somehow kept alive was gone now. The truth was setting in. They had spent almost their whole lives with each other, and now Etho would be sent away and Ren was going to prepare to take the crown. Suddenly, unremarkable Etho was going to be the prime target for political assassinations, not Ren. And he was going to leave to a place that he didn’t belong to, to people that didn’t want him, with a spouse that probably would rather be anywhere else than stuck in a hostile environment with him. 

“Don’t worry too much about me, Ren,” Etho finally said after a few minutes of silence. He slowly put away the arrows and unstringed the bow. 
“My little brother is being sent to the North, what do you expect me to do, throw a big ball the second you’re out of the castle?” Ren shot back as he handed Etho a bottle of oil and a rag. Even distracted as they were by the topic, they both knew this play - Etho would oil the bow and Ren would collect the arrows and they would pay a visit to the kitchens to convince a cook to let them eat a meal before the big dinner. 
“Skizz and Tango will come with me, you know that. I won’t be alone. They will keep an eye on me,” Etho mumbled as he put the veil back on. He was fairly sure that the Ostal visitors hadn’t arrived yet, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Tango looked up from where he had been drawing some sort of blue print in the sand with the tip of his sword.
Ren laughed, loud and almost-carefree, as they walked towards the courtyard gates. His hand came up to adjust the dark blue ring of metal that held the veil in place. 
“I don’t trust them to keep you out of trouble,” he announced as they passed Tango, who fell in step behind them. 
“I heard that,” Tango answered, his voice too light to be adressing the crown prince, but there was no one here to judge him for it. Tango had been at Etho’s side almost as long as Martyn had been at Ren’s, just with less ruffles and more weapons. 
“There you are!” Martyn yelled, scaring an undignified yelp out of Ren as they almost collided in the doorway that led to the kitchens. “I’ve been searching for you for two hours now, you dickhead, come on now, the Queen of Ostal is already at the city gates!”
Martyn bullied Ren off towards his quarters as Etho threw a glance towards Tango. 
“Do we have the time for a quick snack?”
Tango shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “Absolutely not. I’ll grab something and you run along to find Skizz. There’s no way they’re letting you into the throne room looking like you’ve just wrestled a piglin.”

The snack was quick and only consisted of a few pieces of dried peaches and a singular carrot, but it would help tide Etho over the whole dinner affair, hopefully. Skizz hadn’t let him skip the crown like Etho had hoped, but he would survive that, too.
What he maybe wouldn’t survive were the disappointed eyes of Queen Laeta as she noticed him weasel his way into the throne room. You would think that she would have gotten used to him in the twenty years he had been the king’s ward, but she wasn’t one to easily welcome people into her heart. 
“Thank god, I already thought you had ditched me to get drunk somewhere,” Ren mumbled lowly as Etho trailed a hand across his shoulder while passing. 
“Father would never allow me to skip my own engagement dinner,” Etho whispered, too low for anyone but Ren to hear. Queen Laeta threw him a glance anyway, but he assumed that had more to do with him standing next to her beloved son than with his words. 
“As if anyone could make you do things you didn’t want.”
Usually, Etho would agree. He wasn’t too big a fan of rules, and even less so when they concerned him specifically, but this was different. This was a possible unity between Edrea and Ostal, and the North as a colony of both. Too many important things were dependent on Etho playing along. He couldn’t just risk Ren’s future just to disappear into the mist right now because he didn’t want to interact with a single royal tonight, or ever, really. 
“You’re right,” he still said. “It’s going to be fine, don’t worry too much.”
Ren was about to return something, probably looping back to their talk on their way back from the courtyard, but he was interrupted by the announcer.
“Make way for Queen Esukan of Ostal, Ruler of the West and Sovereign of the Rowdare Hills and her husband, prince consort Belu,” the small man bellowed out as the doors opened.