Sugar, Secrets and Upheaval

The final days within that ancestral mansion had been nothing short of dizzying. The sheer scale of the estate, its labyrinthine corridors and grand halls, had been a head-spinning experience in itself. Now, returning to our modest, two-story villa... Gods, this house felt… small.

I still loved our house, of course – its familiar layout, the comfort of our own dedicated spaces, the sanctuary of my record studio, and the delightful addition of the hot tub. But God damn, that mansion had a sudatorium.

A knight’s barracks, stables, dog kennels, an ancient laboratory, and quite possibly a myriad of other eccentricities. And I got lost there, only to be found by hounds! Search and rescue hounds! How many staff did that mansion have? I couldn’t even count them! Greenhouses, conservatories, endless rose bushes… My god, I’ve become a pampered dog in forty-eight hours!

Levi stood at the kitchen island, measuring cocoa powder for a batch of brownies. It had been a while since he’d indulged in his sole hobby.

“Levi,” I breathed out, watching him from my perch on a counter stool. “Gods, that mansion broke me. I’ve become a snob!” I exclaimed, gesturing wildly around. “This place feels… small!”

Levi continued to measure flour. “Dear, this house is… small,” he said, not as a judgment, but as a matter of fact. “I acquired this domicile when I was twenty-one. That was why Isolde designated it a ‘dump.’”

“I know… And when Isolde made that comment, I felt prickled, you know. Because this was our house, and it also had a meaning for you. Gods, Levi, seeing that mansion changed my perspective so much.”

Levi whisked the dry ingredients in the bowl. “We can relocate if you wish, dear,” he said. “I obviously do not possess a domicile of equivalent scale, but certainly, other residences can be established.” He paused his whisking, looking at me. “However, inform me, what was the primary characteristic that appealed to your sensibilities? Was it the magnitude of the property or the extensive complement of staff?” he queried.

“It wasn’t just one thing, Levi, it was the cumulative effect,” I clarified as the scent of baking chocolate grew stronger. “The space, the grandeur, yes, but also the seamless efficiency of so many people just... making things happen. It’s like living in a choreographed play. And… possibly the idea that the place existed for four centuries! Four centuries, Levi… It’s not something you can take lightly. Gods, I’ve been spoiled,” I admitted, shaking my head.

Levi chuckled. “You should have accepted my offer of relocating to the Royal Palace, dear,” he said, tinged with amusement.

He had made that offer, and I, finding it preposterous at the time, had turned it down. Oh my God, I cannot even imagine the Palace now!

“But, surely,” he continued, pouring the contents of the mixing bowl into a prepared baking tray, “we can relocate to a domicile with a complement of staff. I acknowledge this particular residence was not originally designed to accommodate an additional individual, and I do apologize, since it is evident that I should have exerted greater effort to render this place into something that also belongs to you.” He slid the tray into the preheated oven.

“You are being really cute. But you did make an effort, Levi, the hot tub, the recording studio… and our master bedroom. It’s just me being spoiled…” I said, my voice softening as I watched him.

Levi began to clear the kitchen counter. “That is why we possess… money, is it not? For such indulgences.”

“You…” I started, biting my lip to keep a laugh from escaping. Gods, he was so blunt. “I mean, we dismissed the live-in house staff here because we both do not enjoy the presence of other individuals. But because that mansion was so gigantic, I am sure we could spend days without even seeing one,” I added, picturing the sprawling estate.

“Oh,” Levi mused. “So it is the magnitude of the domicile. Well, relocating to that particular estate is out of the question for me, since I thoroughly despise that place.” He paused, setting down the cloth he was using to clear the counter, his expression one of clear disdain. “Furthermore, that property would necessitate extensive refurnishing and construction for our habitation — heating, cooling, electrical outlets, the internet connection, et cetera. And that location is excessively distant from my headquarters, implying I would be compelled to utilize the chopper every morning merely to reach my corporate offices. Truly, it is a nightmare.” He then turned to me, his gaze unwavering. “What about the penthouse?” he inquired.

“That penthouse,” I began, my eyes widening slightly, “the one in the highest skyscraper in the capital?”

“Surely yes, that one,” he said. He finished wiping down the kitchen counter with a final swipe. “However, I do possess other estates. Dear, simply acquire your phone and select a suitable domicile; I will then engage an interior designer.”

The sheer, unthinking scale of his wealth, his absolute indifference to it, continued to astound me.

“I appreciate the gesture, truly. But you do realize this isn’t how most people pick their homes, right? It’s overwhelmingly practical, and… perfectly you,” I said, a wry smile on my face as Levi put away the baking ingredients.

He turned from the pantry. “As long as it can contain my study, and my documents, and possesses both an electrical port and a stable internet connection, it is mostly satisfactory for my purposes,” he said. Then he added, with a subtle shift in his gaze, “I do, however, appreciate minimalist design. I have experienced a lifetime of centuries of grandeur.”

“Well, I can certainly get behind minimalist. Especially if it means no more ominous portraits silently judging our every move,” I said. “But I am also placing my trinkets I hoarded everywhere.”

Levi, who had finished clearing the counter and was now leaning against it. “So… we are relocating?” he inquired. He watched me with a tilt of his head.

Do we?

“We could. But I still love this house, Levi. It’s just... it’s a big jump from ‘dump’ to ‘palace.’ What would you prefer, genuinely?”

Levi took a deep breath. “I do not enjoy the presence of live-in staff. They bore me,” he said, his gaze sweeping around the kitchen with rare contentment. “And I do enjoy this ‘dump,’ I have been residing here for numerous years. Gods… I need to construct a new study.” He sighed.

“So, it’s not the grand scale, but the grand privacy you desire,” I said, a knowing look on my face. “I can certainly understand wanting a fortress of solitude after... everything.”

…

We ate Levi’s brownies, a heaven of dense chocolate and rich sugar, while watching a movie about a speech. The film, a slow, political drama, had me completely disengaged. My head began to loll against the back of the sofa, more out of tedium than sleepiness.

“Levi,” I mumbled, my words thick with a bored fog. “We have to finish the movie.”

Levi, having placed his empty plate on the coffee table, held my cheek in his palm. “We are under no obligation to finish it, dear.”

He then carried me to the bed.

…

The next morning, the sunlight pierced the curtains when Levi, already clad in one of his dark suits, leaned over me. He placed a brief kiss upon my forehead. He was off to cast his vote at a public school, a calculated move, undoubtedly. All those cameras, all those eager reporters, would be there.

Meanwhile, my ballot had been mailed to our house. Later, I sat at the desk in the dining room, staring at the three small photographs of the candidates. I knew none of them. As a foreigner and someone hailing from a country once steeped in its convoluted politics, I had become deeply apolitical since my arrival here. But this… this was history. The very first election in five centuries.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I didn’t know these people, their platforms, their promises. So I began to count on my fingers, muttering a childhood rhyme under my breath, and pointed blindly at whomever the last word landed on. The middle guy. “Well, middle guy,” I muttered, “you are my vote.”

Levi had told me he would pick randomly, too. After that, I sealed the envelope with a sigh and mailed the ballot back.

With a mug of coffee warming my hands, I settled onto the living room sofa, the morning news droning from the television screen. And there he was. Levi. He stood before a throng of cameras, the very picture of statesmanlike grace, his hair slicked back, his features softened by a dazzling smile. His voice filled the room as he urged citizens to use their votes, a clarion call delivered with the charm of his ‘Saint’ persona.

As the news segment shifted, interviews with the presidential candidates began. Each was allotted five minutes to present their final statements, their faces earnest, their voices measured. A bit late for such a public address, considering I had already cast my vote hours ago. The anchors confirmed the voting would conclude by five o’clock in the evening, with the final count extending, at the latest, until tomorrow morning.

Really? So all this planning, all this grand organization, this momentous slice of history... will be concluded in, what, barely twenty-four hours? Not even two full days? I grabbed my phone and began to type, researching historical election durations. Gods… So elections truly are this short in the modern era? Was I... ignorant, or simply so deeply apolitical that I had forgotten the rhythms of the world? Probably both.

A while later, just as the news segment began discussing early voter turnout, the living room door opened, and Levi strode in. He moved with his usual grace, his presence immediately altering the atmosphere of the room. He walked directly to the sofa where I sat, still clutching my now-cool coffee mug, and settled next to me. The faint scent of his cologne wafted over. He leaned back, an exhale escaping his lips, and a subtle shift in his posture suggested a release of tension.

“Well,” he began and exhaled again. “My consultant job is over, effective immediately.”

“Congrats, Levi,” I said, the words feeling inadequate for the scale of his achievements. I shifted on the couch, turning slightly towards him. “The currency change was one thing, but an election… Gods,” I breathed out.

“It was a monumental oversight on my part; this election should have been orchestrated months ago,” he said, his gaze fixed on the television, though his hand, resting idly on his knee, tapped a slow rhythm against his trousers. The soft drone of the news filled the silence for a moment before he continued, turning his head to finally meet my gaze, his deep blue eyes holding their usual unnerving clarity. “However, I have returned with rather unfortunate news. As this marks my final day in my government position, the officials, and particularly the ministers, desire a farewell dinner. Would you be inclined to attend?”

He’s tapping his knee, yet his eyes remain those same unnerving, clear pools. He wants me to attend.

“I confess, Levi, the thought of an evening with the ministers you’ve just… reorganized doesn’t exactly fill me with enthusiasm,” I said, the word ‘reorganized’ a subtle jab.

“Do not worry, Raphael; they do not like me either. This is… not a ‘to burn bridges’ type of dinner. We are quite finished with each other, but obviously, even I am not so careless as to be at odds with the ministers. And, I assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

Of course they don’t. He came in, changed their world by pure will, and now he’s simply… moving on.

“You’re quite adept at ensuring everyone remains precisely where you need them, even when they ‘don’t like you,’” I said, the words a weary observation rather than an accusation now.

“You are not perceiving this from my vantage point, Raphael,” he said. “They are ministers, Raphael; they command nuclear deterrents and entire intelligence agencies.” He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to settle in. “Obviously, animosity is simply careless.”

“I suppose for you, such immense power simply makes personal animosity seem… irrelevant, doesn’t it?” I asked, watching his clear eyes.

“Irrelevant?” he echoed, the word itself a detached query as he tilted his head. “No, Raphael, it is a tool. It might, indeed, become useful one day. For example, the Minister of the Interior, a rather predictable individual, openly detests me. Whereas the Minister of Health has a rather unusual fixation upon my person. The Minister of Economy, Shaw — since he attempted to compromise our residence and betrayed my trust — is, curiously, entirely neutral towards me. I have, regrettably, only engaged with the other ministers during the recent events of the refugee crisis at the borders, and subsequently during instances of civil unrest, thus I am not entirely certain regarding their current sentiments.”

“And you just... remember every detail of their attempts to undermine you, without a shred of anger. It’s truly breathtaking, Levi,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Who said I am not angry?” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on my face, tapping of his hand on his knee stopped. “I am quite furious, Raphael. And I will be furious at that dinner; the urge to crush their skulls is a thought that haunts me constantly. However, I do not wish to be killed by bodyguards, nor do I wish to be imprisoned for being a lunatic. Therefore, I am wearing my adult trousers and attending a dinner I did not request. I am inquiring once more: do you wish to attend? The ministers’ spouses will also be present.”

“Fine… I will attend, and I will rub your back if you start purring like a feline too much,” I conceded. “What about the food, though?”

“Details, Raphael, mere details,” he murmured as he gave me a wry smile. “We will be leaving the national waters for the event; I am quite certain they have selected a rather appropriate venue for us.” He paused, his smile widening ever so slightly. “So, you would rub my back to ensure I do not execute ministers. What a remarkably patriotic view, Raphael.”

“My concern is less about ‘patriotism’ and more about not letting my husband go to jail. A valid concern, I think,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“It certainly is,” he murmured. He leaned in closer, and without warning, he pressed a kiss directly to my lips.

Just because I gave him a piece of attention, a sliver of my reluctant agreement, he wants more. This… possessive, purring creature.

“Is that your way of sealing the deal, then? A little reward for my ‘patriotism’?” I asked, my voice dry, but my heart hammering an erratic rhythm against my ribs.

“Reward?” His deep blue eyes held a glint of something both dangerous and deeply amused. “Did my dearest wish for a reward?” he purred, and his hand settled on my thigh. With a gentle yet undeniable pressure, he pulled me closer, bridging the distance between us. Without a moment’s hesitation, his lips met mine again, deepening the kiss, asserting his will with an intensity that left me breathless.

“You’ll expect me to make polite conversation at dinner after this?” I asked, my voice thin.

His head leaned in, his lips brushing against my neck. “They are ministers, Raphael, the wealthiest, most powerful individuals in the country. And like any other rich and powerful people, they are animals. They will undoubtedly offer you cocaine and sex workers; please do kindly refuse such overtures.” He punctuated his peculiar warning with a light kiss just beneath my ear.

“I appreciate the... guidance, but the delivery is making it a little hard to process,” I whispered against his neck.

“Well,” he murmured, as he continued to brush light kisses along my collarbone. “We will be conveyed by a discreet vehicle to an airport, and will then utilize a private jet, thus departing Ascarian borders entirely. I assume they must have secured a rather grand hotel, as the highest order of government officials will be present, accompanied by their respective families. Truly, Raphael, the safety protocols will be a nightmare.” He paused, his lips moving to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. “However, the possibility of someone approaching you remains considerably high. My dear, in that specific event, you are at liberty to do anything you desire. I will, of course, handle the aftermath.”

“Will that also be a calculated operation for you, regardless of what ‘anything I desire’ might entail?” I asked, genuine curiosity and unease in my voice.

“Just kick them in the shin, in the event of unwanted attention,” he said as a faint smirk touched the corner of his lips. “So, my dear, is there anything else you wish to know?”

“You’re truly offering me permission to assault a minister, as long as it’s not fatal, and you’ll manage the fallout. Is that a test?”

“It can be fatal if you wish it to be,” he murmured as he shrugged. “It would merely require… some planning, but certainly manageable.”

He was serious. The thought chilled me to the bone.

“However, I know you will not choose to end a life, so that particular contingency is at the very bottom of my strategic considerations. Kicks, punches, insults — these are nothing, truly. Your personal safety and comfort are of paramount importance.”

“Oh my god, of course I will not kill someone, stop being so… honest about your capabilities, okay?” I breathed out, the blunt offer of sanctioned murder momentarily eclipsing everything else. “But I guess this is you being protective, so… thank you? Oh God… What have I become?” I muttered.

“You are welcome,” he said. “We still have several hours before our departure, so, my dear, do you wish to carry this discussion to our bedroom?”

“You’re amused, aren’t you? Amused by the absurdity of all this and my reaction to it. Now you want to... continue in the bedroom?”

“Yes to all of those questions.”

Gods, this… demanding, insistent, utterly smug bastard.

“Stop being so smug, and carry me,” I conceded, and wrapped my arms around his neck.