💎A Collision of Fates💎 (Straight to Gay) (MxM) (18+)

54 - Vinton

If he hadn't known what was going on, he would've probably thought that Sesstria was being invaded by Paxta again. But he knew exactly what was going on, though, and so he was just bored. Incredibly bored.

He had no idea why Breck and him had been asked to be part of the royal greeting party, but when King Esteck asked them to do something, they usually had no choice but to obey, especially if they wanted to keep the Paxtan Estate.

They stood in a line before the drawbridge to the palace. Vinton had donned his nicest, cleanest suit and it seemed that the rest of the greeting party had done the same. Esteck stood, tall and proud, at the center. Landel was at his side, wrapped up tightly in his military uniform. He looked ridiculous in it, but that was probably because he looked so uncomfortable.

Beside the two of them were the outsiders. Nick and Adam on one side, Chris and Mark on the other. If Vinton had been a snotty-nosed noble, he would have been offended. They were welcoming a Paxtan prince and the outsiders, the people who had just arrived to the world a few months ago, were getting to stand by the king.

But Vinton didn't give a shit. Why would he?

The Paxtan parade had been on its way for hours, it felt like. They had been ushered to the large stone square outside of the palace and had been made to wait and wait and wait.

Now, finally, Vinton caught a glimpse of the Paxtan procession around the corner, coming up the broad street that winded through Hilltown.

Vinton had never seen so many billowy, colourful shirts in his life. Everyone was wearing one. At the front, guys with swords marched with heavy, pounding steps. Rows and rows of them, dressed in every single possible colour. Red. Yellow. Green. Brown. Black. Orange. Pink. Blue. Their shirts waved in the wind and were tucked deeply into a pair of tight trousers. Behind them were the accompanying dignitaries, or at least Vinton assumed that was what they were. Their clothes were touched with gold, beaded and bedazzled.

Finally, sitting in the saddle of a majestic, white jinniper, Lord Djaro Mihat clopped his way up the street.

The man was young, only a little bit older than Vinton. And he was good looking. Djaro was a front-jewel, that was well known, but Vinton could appreciate handsome front-jewels. The guy was all muscle, which was saying something. Everytime the wind blew through his loose shirt, the deep neckline would reveal hints of his humongous pecs and bulging muscles.

He looked amused as he spotted the welcoming party, a broad smile splitting his handsome face. He rubbed his dark, thick, black hair to the side and straightened himself in his saddle, kicking the sides of the jinniper to make it go faster.

That traitor Lyle had made sure to teach them a lot about the Mijat family in their World History class. Thinking of his old Master brought a pang. He had been one of Vinton's favourites and now, knowing that he had been scheming with the cult, all of his good memories were tainted.

Regardless, Vinton knew that Djaro was descended from a long line of northern Paxtans. Even beyond what he had learned, Djaro's ancestry was writ large all over his body. His brown skin and his black hair and his golden irises gave him away, easily. The further back you went in the continent, the darker the skin got.

The southern edge of Paxta was where Vinton's family had come from before they had immigrated to Sesstria during the great drought hundreds of years ago. It was weird to think that he could've grown up in a southern Paxtan village or city. Would he have liked that better? Vinton had never really considered that.

Djaro reached the centre of the square and launched himself off of his jinniper with ease, sliding to the ground with a practised grace, smile never leaving his face. Esteck marched forward to meet him. They clasped their hands together and shook strongly.