The wedding was to be celebrated with a lavish ball. Having sent invitations to the neighboring kingdoms, Alan immersed himself into the preparations, marveling at the sheer number of details required for the festivities. A royal wedding was beyond the lavishness of the most lavish celebrations, so Melissa's wedding to Rick went relatively unnoticed. Alan suspected he'd further fueled Melissa's hatred, but Rick chuckled good-naturedly and waved away his timid apologies, “Melissa, like any woman, wants to shine, that's normal, Alan. Plus, she's very ambitious. She only wanted to marry Hardy because she wanted to be first lady of the kingdom, even though she loved me. She'll get used to it. She's a good girl, just a bit feisty, and I hope you two will get along in time.”
“And it didn't bother you that she wanted to marry Hardy?" Alan looked at Rick in surprise, but Rick sighed, “Of course, it did, Alan. Loving someone with your whole being means you embrace them just as they are, with both their strengths and weaknesses. She's a good person at heart, just brought up the wrong way by her mother. Amanda Lear was overly concerned with status, implanting false values in her children's heads, for which she paid for with her son's death. Now that Melissa is away from her mother, she's changing gradually, embracing real values. Everything will be okay, I'm sure of it. Do you love Hardy?”
"I'm not sure," Alan stammered, averting his eyes from Rick's probing gaze, feeling a sense of embarrassment. “I'm very attracted to him. I also may be in love…”
“That's great, I am happy for you. He cannot imagine living without you. I hope that with time, you'll come to love him just as deeply." Rick squeezed his shoulder. “Take care of your happiness, Alan, it's a fragile thing. Listen to your heart.”
The royal families of all four kingdoms arrived for the wedding, impressive in their appearance and dress and the pomp with which they arrived. Some went in long processions, flaunting their wealth, scattering gold coins into the crowd. And the people of Arania were delighted, reconciled to the king's marriage. Alan stood in a white camisole adorned with filigree lace and jewels, head held proudly high, prepared to be ostracized by other royal families who knew no such disgrace as marriage to a bastard. Tenderly holding his hand, Hardy interlaced their fingers while graciously greeting each guest, eloquently articulating the necessary social pleasantries. Alan echoed him in the same polite manner and exhaled faintly in relief as the guests retreated to their seats.
The last to enter the throne room were the Hannians, led by Imreta Lianor, Queen of Hania. She stepped majestically in front of her retinue. Similar to Alan, she had golden curls intertwined with strands of pearls, fair skin, and a slender frame, however, she looked at the world not with blue eyes but with light gray, icy ones. Alan bowed his head and was about to say the customary greetings, as he froze in shock. In the retinue of thin, graceful, brightly dressed Hannians, the imposing figure and solemn mourning dress of his stepmother, Amanda Lear, stood out. An impending thunderstorm was in the air, but it was not her who wielded the lightning, but Imreta, who announced loudly, “Greetings King Hardy Rune of Arania and... King Alan Lianor of Hania.”
All the courtiers signed in shock, Hardy, pushed Alan behind his back, and stepped forward, clenching his fists as if he wanted to shut Queen Imreta up. She smiled coldly, comprehending his desire, and gestured to Amanda, who continued on behind her and presented a scroll, “My sister-in-law, Malia Lear, was not kidnapped by the Hannian king Rurk Lianor, but fled with him willingly and entered into a secret marriage with him that only a narrow circle knew about. Rurk Lianor dissolved his marriage to his wife Dana in order to marry Malia. Malia Lianor gave birth prematurely to Alan Lianor, the future king of Hania, and died in agony upon learning of her husband's death. In order not to plunge the kingdoms into an unnecessary long war and to save my nephew from death, my husband gave him away as his bastard. I was going to tell him when Alan Lianor came of age, but I didn't have a chance to tell him," Amanda grinned at the pale Hardy, avenging her son's death with a wicked grin, enjoying the sadness on his face.
“I myself was shocked to learn that I, who had been preparing for the role of queen since childhood, had a king," Imreta twitched her cheek nervously. “But, like any Hannian, I respect the law of primogeniture, so I yield the throne to my cousin," she bowed low to Alan.
Alan swayed as he looked at his stepmother, shifting his stunned gaze from her to the icy Imreta, who was looking at him in anticipation, to the Hannians kneeling before him. He shuddered, here was the long-awaited title, acceptance, respect, but why did it hurt so much, why was it so sad? He looked at Hardy, who had turned to him, and asked in a barely audible voice, “Did you know?”
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I had my suspicions, but there was no evidence," Hardy gazed at him with a sense of desperation. “The Lear blood is strong, even your mother wasn't blue-eyed, though she inherited blond hair, and you took nothing from the brown-eyed brunettes of the Lear. You look like Lianor, King Rurke had blue eyes. Now... now will you leave me, Alan?
Weary, Alan closed his eyes, unprepared to make such a momentous decision and face the most significant shock of his life. He chose instead to heed the advice Rick had given him and listened to his heart. His heart did not want to go to Hania, that was strange and unknown to him; it wanted to stay with Hardy, who had changed the country for him, who had given up his offspring voluntarily. Alan broke the long silence, stepping forward, leaving Hardy behind him.
“Thank you for the news, Queen Imreta. I am pleased to be your kinsman, honored to be called your brother, but... I am officially abdicating the throne in your favor, for Hannia should not be ruled by someone who was raised in another country and pledged allegiance to another throne.
Imreta sighed deeply, incredulous, but her warm gray eyes brightened and she rushed toward him, throwing her arms around him for a hug. Amanda stomped her foot in frustration, hissing something unintelligible, pushing Melissa away from her.
“Thank you, oh, thank you, dear cousin," Imreta hugged Alan and kissed both cheeks, unable to hold back tears of gratitude. “As a legitimate member of the royal family, you remain Prince of Hania and are granted vast estates," she turned to the crowd and proclaimed, holding Alan's hand, “Greet the noble Prince of Lianor!”
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and Hardy wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him tightly against him, pushing Imreta away.
“You abdicated for me, my love?” Hardy looked happy, not believing his ears, and Alan nodded, smiling, “For our happiness, my love.”
They entered the king's chambers deep into the night weary from the festivities, Alan collapsed on his bed exhaustedly, muttering sleepily, “I am too tired to take my clothes off, Hardy, I'm sorry, but the wedding night is postponed.”
"Oh, no," Hardy hastily removed his clothes, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Alan. "I presumed you, my dear, would be weary, so I've concocted an elixir for you. Please drink it. I've waited years for this night, and not even you can take it away from me."
Alan sighed with discontent, turned over, and picked up the glass bottle from the table. He followed Hardy's gaze as he gestured toward it, revealing almost his entire unclothed body shamelessly, displaying his muscular form to Alan. In a single gulp, he consumed the elixir, blushing under Hardy's persistent and suggestive gaze, determined to take control. He could feel the elixir's warmth settling in his stomach, and gradually spreading invigorating warmth throughout his body, revitalizing his energy. Hardy, fully undressed, his cock swaying up and down, began to undress him quickly, kissing him fervently, and threw him on the bed, naked, flushed, drifting in languid state, covering his body with kisses and moaning with arousal.
"Relax, Alan. The first time might be a bit uncomfortable," Hardy moaned as he stretched him, hovering over Alan. Alan obediently eased into it, reciprocating the kisses and gently caressing Hardy's chest and shoulders, feeling the strong fingers preparing him, quickly, almost with a hint of pain. Hardy lay down on top of him, spreading his knees wider, and gently pushed inside, looking at him eagerly, catching the changes in his facial expressions, hearing Alan’s a long painful moan, thrusting deeper, and moved back slowly, not wanting to cause any unnecessary pain.
Alan groaned differently, feeling the huge fire-burning shaft hit his sacrum sweetly, and opened his eyes in surprise, and Hardy laughed softly, picking up his leg and throwing it over his shoulder.
“Yes, my love, love is sweet, I'll teach you everything," and he began to move faster, thrusting his hips against Alan’s buttocks, thrusting deeply, capturing Alan’s passionate sobs with his mouth. Alan clutched Hardy's hands and clumsily attempted to raise his hips to match the vigorous thrusts. He tossed his head back in the mad pleasure that swept over him and moaned louder and louder as he felt himself flying away into the abyss of pleasure. He was the initial one to climax, his cock tightly held by strong fingers, sobbing uncontrollably, and wheezed when Hardy's hard, sprawling thrusts intensified the post-orgasmic pleasure, pouring inside him.
“You're mine now, forever mine, princess," Hardy laid Alan on his chest, kissing his forehead softly, and Alan laughed, snuggling up to him trustingly, raising his eyes to him, “You'll get a slap if you call me that again, Hardy. I'm your prince, okay?”
“My king," Hardy corrected himself, smiling. “But you'll always be a princess to me," and he chuckled in amazement, getting the promised slap. “Well, I'm sorry, I've been calling you that since I was sixteen, when I dreamed of marrying you. I can't change that quickly, Prince of Lianor, so let me call you princess.”
“Only if you call me that in private," Alan leaned back on his favorite chest and smiled happily, feeling that he had done the right thing by listening to his heart.
Thus the former bastard Lear became Prince of Lianor of Hania and Junior King of Arania, beginning the longstanding institution of male marriage in Arania, which recognized love in its various forms. And earned the immeasurable respect of Arania's subjects by balancing the older king, the strong ruler Hardy Rune, with his gentle calm interference in Hardy’s confidently harsh rule.