A Misinterpreted Handkerchief

His Royal Majesty Prince Eadric Constance St. Lovitt of the Great and Powerful British Empire disembarked from his airship, his long, lavender-scented hair flowing in the breeze. Like most monarchs, his attire alone was a sight to behold. He wore a heavily embroidered jacket in the lush purple that was his nation's natural color; it was bedecked with many medals, some won for merely existing as royalty. His heeled boots were polished to perfection, and every step produced a loud, intimidating clack. At his side hung a rapier in a lovely sheath; though it was primarily for decoration, he could easily kill someone with it in a heartbeat.

Flanked by vassals on each side, he made his way to the castle, nodding at each German servant that greeted him. He already missed being on British soil; as nice of a place as Germany was, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that his nation was already falling apart without him.

He inconspicuously took a deep breath as he was seated in the dining hall; now was the time for composure. He drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for the German monarch to make his appearance; he wondered what he would look like. Surely, as a king, he was years older. Probably blond and intimidating, like the Germanics of olde.

He glanced around the table, already being laid with food. At least the Germans seemed to have a sense of decency; it was definitely right around tea time, and if Eadric detested anything it was doing business before tea.

Soon, Kaiser Othmar Wilhelm the Third entered the room. He tossed his pretty red hair over his shoulder, letting it flounce behind him. He was slightly late, on account of trying to pry himself away from a woman. She wouldn't stop touching his butt; it was incredibly awkward for him, but he endured it. All for the sake of reputation.

He sat down across from Eadric, using a borrowed handkerchief to slyly wipe away the lipstick from his neck. It was detestable; bright red. What a slut. Then again, what woman wasn't?

"Hello." Wilhelm greeted his guest, in heavily accented English. "I am Kaiser Wilhelm the Third. You must be Your Royal Highness St. Lovitt?"

He smiled warmly, folding his hands on the table. He was quite glad to see someone closer to his age. He had just recently begun to handle affairs in his father's place, and it was all...new. A hassle.

He bowed his head respectfully, skillfully hiding his surprise. This man was so much younger than he had expected. He was actually intimidated, but not because he seemed formidable; rather, he found it much harder to form sentences in the presence of someone so attractive.

"Call me Eadric," he said without a hint of nervousness. "I was expecting the Kaiser to be much older--no offense intended, of course."

He laughed.

"Oh, well...I am really only...imposter?" He paused, realizing that was not the word. "Nein, no, substitute. Yes, that is the word."

He felt his cheeks flush red, but he smiled and pretended they hadn't.

"My father...He is the Kaiser. I am his son. Acting Kaiser." He nodded. Yes, that was what he meant. "And, please, do excuse me English. It is a difficult language for me, still."

Actually, he was pretty skilled in English. But suddenly, when he was trying to speak to someone he knew to be a native, it seemed much more difficult.

Though amused, he showed few signs of mirth.

"I understand," he said quickly. "I could speak German, if you prefer--but you must forgive my atrocious accent, I've never had a native teacher. In any case, are we to have tea? I haven't eaten all day--far too busy. Good help is hard to find, as I'm sure you're well aware." He put on his best monarch expression, trying to focus less on Wilhelm's nicely built body.

He shook his head.

"No, you are my guest, I shall speak your language." He insisted. "But of course, we will eat before we do any, shall we say, business?"

He smiled a bit wider, in a way that could be flirtatious. Actually, he was just glad he had remembered the word for business.

"I was not sure what foods you liked, so I made my chefs cook...a lot." He laughed softly. "Of course, the tea will be ready in a moment."

He summoned a waiter with his right hand, before he realized he was still holding the lipsticked stained handkerchief. He placed it back into his pocket, glancing at Eadric. He hoped he didn't notice. It would be terribly if Eadric, too, thought he was some sort of whore. Though, he kind of was...

"Bring him the best tea." He paused, thinking for a moment. "...Even use Else's if necessary."

The handkerchief caught Eadric's eye; to his surprise, it was red. The color of rape. He froze, carefully watching Wilhelm's expressions and movements. Upon second glance, they seemed almost flirtatious; was this man trying to say something?

He cleared his throat quietly.

"I like your handkerchief," he said, trying to be inconspicuous about it. "A true man should always have one, don't you think?" It was a standard question; when the answer was yes, there was very little doubt about what the man in question wanted.

Wilhelm ushered the waiter away, and looked back to Eadric, in time to hear his question.

"Hm? Oh. Well...Of course." He smiled, trying to pretend it wasn't borrowed and smeared with lipstick. "Yes, most definitely."

He smiled wider. He really liked Eadric, it seemed. He was attractive and closer to his age; he hoped they would be good friends. He needed more friends.

Eadric's chest tightened. It had been a while; he was suddenly very conscious of how good an encounter would feel right about now.

"Would you like to perhaps give me a tour after tea?" he asked. "I could do with some relaxation after my long trip--we don't need to sign the treaty immediately, right? We can lounge in your quarters for some time." He met Wilhelm's eyes, hoping he caught his drift. Oh, the incredible luck; he wasn't the only monarch in Europe with this secret. Germany wasn't that far; maybe this could become a regular affair. He could feel the guilt slipping away. If it was with another monarch, it would count as serving his nation for once.

Was this sort of thing customary? Wilhelm was pretty sure he had left a woman waiting in his room, too. He had better have her taken out and his room cleaned. He supposed that if things dragged on, they could always lounge in the guest room, but he would much prefer his own room. He disliked being in unfamiliar surroundings. Tactically, it was a nightmare.

"Why, of course." His smile never wavered. "That would be perfectly fine."

As the waiter brought out the tea, which was indeed Else's fancy imported Chinese tea, Wilhelm quickly summoned his personal attendant and quietly ordered him to clean his room and remove the poor woman from it. The attendant just looked annoyed, but did as he was told.

Eadric insisted on pouring the tea himself; he was so careful, however, that his white gloves remained spotless. He turned back to Wilhelm, finally flashing him a hint of a smile.

"I apologize if I'm a bit of a surprise; I doubt there are many monarchs like me that you've met. My mother is in poor health, of course, so if there's more business between our countries, I will likely be forced to show again. I hope you don't mind." He delicately sipped his tea.

Wilhelm was confused for a moment, before he realized Eadric was obviously talking about their ages. Yes, he was so delighted to meet someone like him, too!

"I don't mind at all." He replied, delighted. "I must admit, I am more than relieved to find someone else to relate to."

Eadric nodded, coughing lightly into a handkerchief of his own. It was an orange that clashed oddly with the rest of his outfit--the symbol for "I want anything, as long as it's sex."

"I also possess a handkerchief, as you can see," he said, conspicuously slipping it back into his pocket. "I like to keep that one in my left pocket, of course--but as a fellow man, you'd understand." Left pockets were, of course, for desired kinks.

He furrowed his brow. Wait, what? Was this something he wasn't getting. He felt like it was. Oh well, he supposed he would just have to research it that night.

"Yes. Of course." He lied, shifting in his chair. He hoped he didn't look antsy. He was, though; he wanted to move onto a subject he understood. "...If you need help with your German, I'm sure I can be of assistance."

"Of course," he said, getting what was obviously a sexual hint. He took a large gulp of tea, anxious to finish. "Though I suppose you might also want to practice Italian?"

"Italian?" He frowned slightly. "My Italian is...not very good."

He took a sip of his own beer, trying to figure out where this conversation had gotten to without him. Something seemed...off.

He nodded, sipping his tea again.

"Yes, I quite understand--red handkerchiefs are becoming of a man fluent in German, I suppose. Do you speak it loudly?"

"Loudly?" He questioned. That was a strange question. He was certain it must, in this context, simply mean 'well'. "Of course. It is my native tongue."

He looked slightly confused, but smiled nonetheless.

He raised an eyebrow, but cracked a small smile nonetheless.

"When in Rome, I suppose. I suppose I am more than willing to study German with you--are you pleased?" He set down his cup, clearing his throat; the excitement had ruined his appetite.

"I would like to practice now, if it's convenient."

"Of course." He smiled and stood up, summoning yet another servant and ordering him around in German. Then, he joined Eadric and headed for the stairs.

Perhaps he had overreacted? It seemed now that they were only going to be practicing their German. He was glad, he hoped he could help Eadric shake his accent.

He opened the door to his room, and much to his surprise, it wreaked of perfume. He wrinkled his nose. What the hell had that woman been doing in here?

"My apologies." He muttered, grabbing his butler by the arm and verbally berating in German. Quietly, of course, and he sent him out of the room, turning back to Eadric with a forced smile.

"...You normally wear a different handkerchief?" asked Eadric, frowning slightly. He hadn't expected someone with a crossdressing fetish; then again, he supposed he could handle it. He had some things he wanted to try out himself, after all.

"Where is your bed? I take it we'll be left alone to, ahem, study German?"

"Alone? Ah." He frowned. Tactically, alone was a no. Though, with Eadric's stature, if anything were to happen...he would gain the upper hand easily. He cleared his throat, focusing again. "Yes, of course."

He placed his fingers into his mouth and whistled, to summon the people in the vicinity. There were a handful of maids and servants, all of which he gave strict orders to stay out no matter what they heard. They all filed out, looking rather suspicious.

He sat down on Wilhelm's bed, glancing around the room. It seemed oddly bare, for someone who wanted BDSM.

"Do you have any props you'd like to use for our German?" he asked. "I'll be sure to do what you want regardless, though--however, I do have a request or two myself."

Feeling lost again, Wilhelm adjusted his uniform. Straightening it out always made him feel better.

"Requests?" He asked, hoping they would give him some sort of clue as to what he was dealing with.

"You know what frotting is, right?" he said, clearing his throat. "I want to attempt that."