Hmm... things certainly weren't going exactly as planned but Cale was choosing to be optimistic.

Sure, he was currently imprisoned and probably considered kidnapped by his family. Did it count as kidnapping if the government did it? Was it arrest? Wait, Cale hadn't actually committed any crimes so was it illegal detainment? Then again, who the fuck knew how fantasy laws fucking worked. Maybe it was totally legal and normal for royals to kidnap citizens in the name of protecting some inane secret.

Cale could still see the shock overtaking Alberu's face. It was a bit dramatic all things considered. Maybe in fantasy-world veils really were supposed to entirely hide a person's identity.

Fantasy worlds blow. Cale was going to personally burn every fantasy novel he could find when he got home. And he was definitely going to get home. He'd had just about enough of all this fantasy bullshit. It probably wasn't possible to go home or whatever but just fuck this.

Maybe he was a bit soured over matters now that he was chilling out in a jail cell. Admittedly, it had more creature comforts than he would expect from some secret political prison but he could tell that it was a whole lot of fluff added on top of a dank dungeon.

At least that stupid prince had made the barest efforts to make the space comfortable for him. He figured that was probably a good sign for his longevity.

He was still annoyed with the number of times he'd been asked bullshit like how did you know, what the fuck was he supposed to say other than I'm not fucking blind, that's Alberu Crossman, holyshit did you think that veil concealed anything? Get real.

That probably hadn't endeared him to his captures but Cale was plenty fucking endearing without kissing ass.

Cale believed in aggressive positive self-talk. It didn't ring true unless it didn't sound like the start to an argument. He's favorite was fuck you, I'm fuckable as hell so suck my dick. It wasn't actually an invitation or an argument but it certainly made him feel pretty on days when he felt like shit.

Small victories. That was what his fucking therapist wanted him to focus on.

'Alright. What small victory can I find here?'

The shitty cell offered no answer so Cale invented one of his own.

'Hey, I'll have more time to convince his royal shittiness to deal with the fucking assassin problem and I'll be untouchable here. There's my fucking silver lining.'

Not that Cale had been terribly worried about achieving either goal without having to be imprisoned. Oh well. The cushion he was laying back against was cushy and Cale was not going to mope.

He was way too annoyed for moping. Cale had only been stuck in this stupid place for roughly a day now and he had plenty of anger to work through before it was appropriate to mope.

"...Ron's gonna be pissed at me." He chuckled to himself with a headshake.

"Who's Ron?"

"Fuck!" Cale jumped up, glaring at the bastard for surprising him. "Could fucking announce your arrival, dipshit–!"

Cale stopped mid-cuss, it wasn't because he was looking into the face of the crown prince of the kingdom he lived in which ought to have been a concern for any individual living within its confines considering how dimly nobility tended to view insults. No, he would have happily cussed up a storm at the fucking prince, consenquences be damned.

It was that he was looking at a pasty-pale blond and blue eyed version of the guy.

He squinted.

"...the fuck is wrong with your face?" He blanched. "Why are you blond?"

It wasn't that the man wasn't still handsome, Alberu was blessed with a chiseled face that would probably look good even if he was purple. There was just something deeply disconcerting about seeing your fiance swap color schemes.

Cale made up his mind. He didn't like it. Weird pale Alberu was weird. He would like to request a return to normalcy. Blond was overrated as fuck.

Alberu's face pinched in confusion, taken aback by Cale's outburst. After all, to the general public this was the appearance that most people should be most familiar with. Yet Cale Henituse was acting like this was the first time he'd ever even heard of the crown prince looking like this.

...but he'd recognized Alberu immediately as a dark elf...

It was deeply suspicious on every single level but either Cale was a truly gifted actor or he was sincere. Alberu had no way of knowing that the truth was actually both.

"Change back." Cale demanded with a crinkled expression of distaste. "You look weird blond. And pale. It's weird. This feels weirdly racist? Does this count as white washing?" Cale asked the last bit to himself, modern sensibilities colliding with the current discomfort.

"What do you mean?" Alberu asked and he was glad that he'd decided to come alone to question Cale. His thoughts were boiling over with confused incomprehension and he didn't want to juggle the reactions of others as well with this developing headache. The best course of action was to ask questions until he figured out precisely why the infamous lout of the Henituse territory knew his true appearance. Apparently better than his public one.

Cale huffed, rolling his eyes as he approached the bars, standing far too close into Alberu's personal space for his comfort but he didn't want to draw attention to that by stepping back.

He couldn't help but remember the kiss Cale had stolen when they first met. He remembered it a lot actually. It wasn't just that it was his first kiss. The heartbroken desperation had felt too real to be a lie and it haunted the corners of his thoughts.

...perhaps the man Cale had spoken of was a dark elf? That could potentially explain some matters? But that would mean that someone who Alberu had shared his secrets with in confidence was spreading information about him.

It was an uncomfortable thought to suspect his people. Although he didn't think he specifically resembled any of his maternal relatives enough to be mistaken for them.

"You look weird like that." Cale said while leaning against the bars. "I don't like it."

Alberu was experiencing a rather unique feeling at the moment. While he was still deeply uncomfortable with just about everything that Cale appeared to know about him, it was strange to have someone reject the public-appeasing appearance in favor of the stigmatized dark-elf appearance. That certainly wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting from the first citizen to learn about his true appearance. Then again, he'd never expected anyone to learn it at all. He'd planned to take the secret to his grave.

Alberu changed the tactic of his question. "Because I resembled your fiance?"

Cale fixed him with a look. "Don't be a dick." He said, zero respect for royalty. Alberu reflected that he'd been called a dipshit and a dick in the span of only a few minutes. "It's because it's fucking weird seeing you look all pasty and shit. Why the hell do you look like that? Is it to look more like your dad? I thought you hated that jackass."

Cale had perhaps stopped giving any fucks about fitting in.

Alberu's face stiffened. Hate was a rather strong word to define his feelings towards his father but... well, he certainly didn't hold a lot of fuzzy feelings for the 'jackass'. A part of his brain that was still capable of being surprised was still reeling that Cale Henituse had just called his majesty a jackass entirely fearlessly. He really did earn his title.

Mostly Alberu was feeling quite personally attacked and insulted.

His dedication to hiding his mothers heritage in order to inherit the throne and to regain his birthright was being very broadly described as a shallow attempt to appease his father.

He realized that it hurt because there was a speck of truth to it. Not a whole lot, but there was the smallest part of him that still hoped for affection from his father and felt that his disguise ought to help with that.

Alberu chose his words very carefully. The turbulent emotions inside offering him absolutely no good impulses.

"Are you referring to his majesty, king Zed Crossman when you say 'that jackass'?" He asked coldly.

Cale snorted, something far too lax about the way he raised an eyebrow at Alberu. "Something wrong with that? He's a jackass so I called him one. Should I get more specific? He's a short-sighted neglectful asshole who thinks he's always right and a garbage father."

Alberu felt the very strange impulse to laugh.

No one, not even himself, had ever dared to refer to his majesty in such a crass matter. It wasn't that Zed was a tyrant, it simply wasn't done. There were laws against besmirching the honor of the king that Alberu was sure Cale had thoughtlessly broken in several different ways. In front of the crown prince.

It was a level of ridiculous that could hardly be believed even though he'd seen the audacious act himself.

And Alberu had to restrain himself from smiling.

Cale was indeed the most audacious trash in nobility. In a unique way all his own.

That was why Alberu felt strangely uncomfortable over how charming he found it. Charming wasn't even the right word.

Cale was captivating.

He captured Alberu's attention from the moment they'd met and he'd refused to relinquish it, his every action fascinating Alberu's curiosity and interest further.

"Do you understand the consequences of your words?" Alberu asked, concealing how he truly felt about it. He needed to find some leverage in this conversation. Thus far Cale had been controlling the flow and setting Alberu off balance with his every word.

Cale shot him a sleazy look from between the bars. "What? Want me to say it to his face instead?"

Alberu's lips twitched despite himself.

The idea of Cale talking with just as much crudeness to the king was... He caught himself. Perhaps he had more resentment towards his father than he realized.

The real question was how Cale knew that. How Cale knew anything for that matter.

There was the distinct feeling that they were having two different conversations. Whenever Alberu asked something that ought to have led him to an answer about how the hell Cale knew about his heritage, Cale replied with something that made it sound like it was even more strange to witness Alberu in his public appearance.

Alberu was clearly missing crucial information. Either that or Cale was fucking with him.

Alberu suspected it was both.

"Do you fully comprehend how serious this situation is?"

Cale shrugged and the look in his eyes unnerved Alberu a bit.

"What? If I don't play along you'll kill or torture me?" The grim amusement of his words didn't seem to doubt that potential fate, only to find it a hilarious joke that only he understood. "That would be a fucking suitable end to my life." He laughed and it was an empty sound. "Tortured and killed by Alberu Crossman in this godforsaken place. Fucking hilarious."

There was something very specific about the way Cale said his name that set Alberu ill at ease.

All of his words set him ill at ease.

Cale laughed at his discomfort.

He was pissed.

Perhaps it was being locked up when all he'd done was ask for help and properly identify the crown prince. Perhaps it was having an extended conversation with a nearly identical-yet-wrong version of his fiance. Perhaps it was the whole fucking situation.

He wasn't in the mood to play the role of 'fantasy Cale'. In fact, fuck that guy. Fuck all these guys. Fuck the reality where Alberu apparently disguised himself as a white guy for probably obnoxiously political and definitely racist reasons. Fuck the world that sent assassins to kill Cale's younger siblings.

Fuck. This.

He could read Alberu better than most anyone else and the unbalanced nature of the conversation meant that he had an even better opportunity to peek into Alberu's stupid head. And all he found there was a whole lot of I can't believe he said that and what the hell is going on which wasn't terribly helpful towards solving Cale's situation.

He was confident at this point that Alberu wouldn't hurt him. He wouldn't have bothered with the cushy dungeon if he intended to. He probably wanted to know what Cale knew and then to strike a deal with him, probably using some magic bullshit to keep his mouth shut or some shit like that.

But he still thought it'd be funny. Wouldn't that just be the bowtie on his shitty life? After finally getting his life together and achieving happiness getting murdered by the man he loved most? What a fucking joke.

He'd already worked out from context clues in the conversation and Alberu's reactions why he was in this fucking cell and that just pissed him off even more.

'I'm doing time because of fantasy-racism. Fucking insane.'

At least his 'knowledge' gave him leverage.

"Hey, princey-boy." Cale said and he quite enjoyed how the informal title made Alberu's eye twitch, ever so slightly. "I've got a deal for you."

"You're hardly in a position to..."

Cale cut him off. "You're right. I'm not. But you'll like my deal so shut the fuck up and listen."

Alberu smiled coldly at him and Cale appreciated the reaction. It helped when Alberu put distance between them.

It made it a lot less confusing for the part of Cale who still wanted to grab him by the collar and kiss him silly.

"What is your deal?" He asked.

"You go work out that garbage assassin situation with my family." Cale said with a languid grin. "And when you've dealt with that, I'll tell you exactly how and why I know what I know. Seem fair? I'm sure you don't want shit happening to the loyal nobility or whatever the fuck."

Truthfully, Alberu was already looking into the matter as it might shine light onto Cale's motivations and knowledge. And of course because as Cale said, he didn't want 'shit' happening to Count Henituse or his family.

Cale was right. He did like the deal.

He just couldn't help but feel as though he was playing into Cale's hands though and he couldn't quite tell why.