Brendon got out of the limo in front of Shiloh Castle, where they'd decided to spend March Break. It would allow Ryan to do some sight-seeing in Jackson and his parents to officially be introduced to Jon and Ryan. Everything around them, save for the driveway, was covered in lush green grass. The castle itself had blue and white brick walls and huge wooden doors. He smiled up at it, rolled his shoulders back, and walked forward about two steps, then turned towards the car again and watched his friends climb out. He'd never been more nervous about anything in his whole entire life. He watched the driver go to the trunk and start taking out all their suitcases, while someone exited the castle and came to help. "This is weird," Brendon muttered, half hoping his mother would come out and greet him to make everything more comfortable.

Ryan stopped short just outside the limo, looking up with wide eyes at the enormous building in front of him. The copper roof was shining with a dull gleam in the early spring sun, windows glittering beneath it, and everything fitted together perfectly to make it completely picturesque; beautiful. "What's weird?" he asked, having to keep himself nearly forcibly from squeezing or patting some part of Brendon or another to give the boy a little reassurance. It had become that natural over the past few weeks. He couldn't, though, of course. Not with so many people around. Not when his parents could easily be looking out of the windows. He quickly went to the luggage pile and retrieved the bag with his laptop, shouldering it and keeping it close, hopefully without it seeming too close.

Brendon shrugged, then turned to look at Spencer and Jon. "So?" he said, smiling. "Everything you thought it would be?" he asked. Spencer grinned and shook his head.

"No, it looks much better than in pictures," Spencer admitted, grinning. "Looks much better than what my father ever said, too." He took his suitcase from the driver, fighting with him a bit before he actually had it in hand. Jon took his suitcase as well, when Spencer stared him down long enough, and the driver was left with only Brendon's to take in. They all walked up to the front doors and stepped in as they were pushed open for them. As opposed to the cottage, the castle smelled like a sterile, instead of smelling homey or inviting. Brendon walked in further and looked around before motioning them all to go up the staircase.

"I'll show you guys to your rooms and then we can go get something to eat," he said, then turned to the driver. "Tell the cooks we would like a light snack," he said, then started up the staircase. He turned back to his friends and motioning them forward.

"That sounds great," Ryan stated with a small smile, hoisting his suitcase up in his hand. He was momentarily quite pleased that he hadn't packed too much, because otherwise carrying both computer and suitcase could've turned out to be quite a feat. He might be a better-than-decent shot, but he knew very well he was a little lacking in the muscle department. Shifting his grip a little, he followed Brendon up the wide staircase and through the large front doors, gaping slightly at the room behind. It was large and felt slightly like walking into a museum. Although surveillance cameras were visible here and there, the air and furniture and practically everything oozed of a different time period. It felt almost like stepping into the seventeenth century. Possibly Europe too, but he'd never been so he couldn't say for sure. "Are there cameras in our rooms too?" he asked, nose wrinkling slightly. Hopefully it would seem like no more than distaste at the thought of the surveillance workers seeing him in his birthday suit and thus cover the fact that cameras would make his life really difficult.

Brendon shrugged indifferently, then smirked. "Well, I destroyed the one in my own room... but, yes, I suppose the guest rooms would all be under surveillance. Why? Is that a problem?" he asked, looking over at Ryan and smirking. He walked down the hallway, passing mirrors and portraits on the wall. He led them to the very end of the hallway before opening a door. "Now, these rooms are big enough for two, but if you all each want your own room, that's fine, too," he said, opening the door to one of the many rooms and stepping aside for all to see. "These last four rooms are all up for grabs... you can each choose the one you like the most. They all have different color themes, and everything may be placed differently, as well." He smiled and stepped back, waiting for his friends to make their move.

Spencer was first, immediately going into the first room Brendon had shown them. It was all forest green with off-white trimmings, much to his pleasure. He smiled and stood in the doorway, watching Jon open the door to all three rooms and then look between them indecisively.

Ryan followed Jon's lead and gave each room a quick look. Unlike the younger male, though, he wasn't looking for colors or cool features or size, but blind angles. His academy training made it easy for him to scan a room and find out every way it was bugged and how to get around it. The second room, he discovered, did have a couple of feet of blind angles, but just as he was about to call it, Jon ran in and threw himself onto the bed. Ryan suppressed a groan and looked between the other two. Both were more than sufficiently wired. "Are there cameras in the bathrooms as well?" he suddenly found himself answering. "Because if there are, you'll have to put up with me smelling for a whole week. I don't want those security guards to..." He trailed off, grimacing and shuddering lightly as he kept glancing between the two rooms that were left.

Brendon scoffed, mildly offended. "Of course not! Why would we want cameras in washrooms?" he asked incredulously, nose wrinkled. He shook his head and shoved Ryan lightly. "Don't be stupid. No one wants to see you naked, you loser," he said, sounding completely serious, and then ruined it by winking. Behind him, Spencer chuckled.

"Apparently he thinks our country is much worse than it actually is..." Spencer mused.

"Oh, I see how it is," Ryan jested, feigning being offended. "I'm ugly now, am I?" He picked his suitcase up again and scanned both rooms once more, his training kicking in to make him choose the most easily defensible one, which seemed to be kept in soft blues and cremes. Not really his first choice in color, but, he mused, probably suiting for Ryan Hastings. He placed the suitcase by the end of the bed to be unpacked later and placed his computer bag on the table before pulling his shoulders up in relief at not having the excess weight on him anymore. Then he quickly pulled his jacket off and put it on the bed before rejoining the others.

"Yes, you're extremely ugly," Brendon replied, rolling his eyes. He rubbed his hands together and exhaled loudly. "All right, let's go down and eat, then we can go to the backyard for a nice stroll," he said, rather loudly. He hoped someone was listening and would report to his parents that they were up to no trouble. He rolled his shoulders back and started downstairs, but Jon placed a hand on his shoulder and held him back.

"Aren't you going to show us your room?" he asked, grinning. Brendon narrowed his eyes, looking from Jon to Spencer, who was grinning. He then looked at Ryan and sighed.

"Fine," he grumbled, and walked to the complete opposite end of the hallway. He extracted a small chain from under his shirt, the one he kept hidden at all times, and undid the clasp at the back of his neck. Taking the old-fashioned key at the end of it, he unlocked the door and then pushed it open. Walking in, they seemed to enter just a normal sitting room. Beyond the chairs and television, though, were French doors. Brendon walked in and to the doors, taking out another key from a pocket in his shirt, and unlocked those doors. He pushed them open to reveal a darkly lit room that seemed to belong in an Edgar Allan Poe story, rather than in a beautiful and colourful castle. He ushered them inside and stood by the door uneasily. He didn't like sharing his room with others, no matter who they were, but he figured that, if anyone, his best friends deserved to see it.

Ryan looked around, deep in concentration for a few moments as he mentally stored away location and details and other bits of information for later use. Or for a report. Who knew, maybe they could use it. He determinedly ignored the pang from his conscience, the something inside him screaming that he was already abusing too much trust and that something as private as a bedroom should be kept to those in whom it was confided. He took a deep breath, studiously telling himself that it wasn't his fault Brendon was too trusting and gave away information to the wrong people. He was doing his job. It wasn't his fault these stupid kid were falling for it. Somehow, though, those lies were beginning to feel shallow, even to himself. "It's nice," he stated honestly, finally managing to see the room as a person, not a machine or whatever else it was the bureau had made him into. "I like it," he added, once again honestly. This, rather than the pale blues, was something he definitely liked. The color scheme wasn't too different from his own room back in New York although the rather new apartment didn't have the same Gothic feel to it as you could get in an old building, a castle even. "And thanks, I don't think you're absolutely stunning either."

Spencer chuckled and shook his head. "What are you, some kind of Vampire?" he asked, sounding just a little too much like Jon. Brendon glared at him, his upper lip lifting into a sneer, but before he could reply, Spencer cut him off. "Don't worry, it's not a bad thing... I just never expected your room to be like this. It's just a little weird, you know?" he said, looking around one more time before glancing back at Brendon, both eyebrows raised.

Brendon shifted uneasily and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it is... but my room has been this way for the longest time. I like it better. I spend most of my time in here, when I'm at the castle," he glanced around at his computer desk, book shelves and bed, all made of wood so dark it was black. The wood had special carvings in it that Brendon liked but didn't understand. His bed, a four-poster king-sized, was covered in a deep red duvet and, yeah, Brendon had to admit that it didn't really match his style. He sighed and looked down at his shoes, then back up at Spencer. "Yeah, I guess it's a little weird," he said with a chuckle, shaking his head.

Shrugging, Ryan looked around once again, everything being stored automatically inside his mind. "It's more relaxing than bright colors would've been," he stated. "But without being totally glum. I'd imagine reflection is easier here." He smiled slightly. "Style aside, it suits you in some odd way."

Brendon smiled at him, a little self-conscious, then pulled everyone out of the room. "Okay, that's enough. We're going down to the kitchen, now, and no one will ever be allowed to set foot in here again," he said, grinning as he led them out of his room. He started down the staircase again and made his way to the kitchen. It took a while, since the kitchen was basically on the other side of the castle, but when they finally arrived, the small, wooden table was filled with fruit and bread and cheese. Brendon snatched up a strawberry and ate it quickly, smiling widely.

Ryan picked up a piece of bread, buttered it quickly and put cheese on, popping a couple of grapes as he went. He took a bite and looked up with a small smile. "Definitely better than school food," he stated, eyebrow slightly cocked while he pulled on his t-shirt a little. The fact that the fabric rode up the moment he moved his arms just a little still felt quite uncomfortable even though he was starting to get used to it. He was pretty sure by then that Brendon didn't really care what he wore either way, but it would seem a little too strange to change styles in the middle of everything. "What is the program for the next week then?"

Brendon shrugged and swallowed what he had in his mouth. He picked up a piece of bread and buttered it as he spoke. "All I ever do is attend dinner parties and mope around my room. I'm not quite sure what we could do. Of course, tonight you'll all be meeting my father, and I'll probably have to teach you all the proper etiquette so that he doesn't completely hate you..." he trailed off, taking a bite out of his bread and sighing. He chewed quickly before swallowing and finishing his sentence. "I'm sure you will all be fine. All you have to remember is 'work your way in' and it'll be easy," he finished and looked around the table. Jon was frowning at him, still chewing on something that looked much too big to fit in his mouth, and Spencer was smiling at him oddly. "What?"

Spencer smiled at him again and shook his head, "you're just making the castle sound so boring," he explained, lifting an eyebrow. Brendon shrugged.

"Oh, come on. It can't be boring at all!" Jon exclaimed. "I mean, there must be a million things we can do! Don't you have any hot servants?" he waggled his eyebrows. Brendon scrunched his nose and shook his head.

"They're all pretty old... there's a brothel down the street," he said, frowning slightly. Jon chuckled and shook his head, but stored the information for possible use at a later time.

Ryan felt his eyebrows jump up his forehead in shock. In most areas his own country was much more free than Beauregia, but prostitution seemed to be a little upside down. It was completely illegal back home. Not to say that it never happened. But a completely non-covert brothel just down the street from an official state building was just a little beyond his comprehension. "The most pathetic thing about prostitution is the men who are desperate enough to pay just to get some," he finally stated, making sure to keep the disgust out of his voice. "The sad thing is capturing people in an environment where they have to sell themselves to stay alive." Then he bit his own lip sharply, looking away a little, and hoped he hadn't just offended everyone within a thousand-mile radius. Again.

Brendon snorted. "A lot of the women and men who work in Brothels actually want to be there," he said, eyebrows raised. "They are much safer than the streets, provide a roof, bed and food. They're not... exactly legal, but much better than the alternative. Prostitution is the world's oldest job, you know that? It's always going to be there... and it could be worse. They don't hire children, the women aren't treated badly, the clients must abide by many rules... It's definitely not a good thing, but it's not the worst," he finished, flushing slightly. He'd researched Brothels and prostitution a while ago, during the summer. He'd even watched many documentaries on it, and knew many facts. He didn't like the idea, but it didn't completely repulse him anymore. He looked straight at Ryan, waiting for his reply.

"I just don't see why-" Ryan stopped, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "I don't see why anyone would want to be on either side of a deal like that. A good social security system should be able to at least make it less appealing." He took another deep breath, shaking his head slightly. "I guess what really gets to me is how it cheapens everything. How can it be special to have sex with that one person if you can just head to the other side of town - or down the street - and get it for money? Perhaps I'm too... fucking romantic or something for my own good, but sex should never be just about getting off. It should be about trust, and about the feelings between two people, not just something that's for sale to the highest bidder. This way, in a sense, everything about couples in sexual relationships loses meaning somehow." He shook his head once again and took a large bite of his bread to keep his own mouth shut before he really said something he'd regret later. Suddenly, though, a thought occurred to him. If his assignment led to him having sex with Brendon, how was he any better? Wouldn't that just make him a whore too? From what he'd heard, many prostitutes even refused to kiss their clients to distance it, and that was definitely more than he had been doing. At least with regular prostitutes, the clients knew what they were doing. There was no trust to be broken. So didn't that just make him even worse? He forcibly pushed the thoughts away, taking another bite and waiting for an answer.

Jon stepped in after a few moments in silence, cutting Brendon off. "You're right, it cheapens sex. It really, really does. Which is why a lot of people say that sex is not an act of love, and it's not a way to prove you love someone, which is absolutely true. Maybe you are a romantic and you believe sex should be about trust and two people coming together and sharing their feelings and, I don't know, a soul connection? I think you're wrong. It might have been that way a long, long time ago, but it's not anymore. Yes, it is a big part of any relationship, but that's only because humans have made it so important. I mean, aren't we the only living beings on Earth who tie sex to love? Animals do it to produce offspring... not to prove their love," he shrugged. "Sex isn't about love."

Spencer gasped, looking at Jon, mortified. "Jon! How can you say that!? God, that is so horrible to hear. If you really love someone, then sex can be about love. It's not something you should give away and it's not about getting off. Or, it shouldn't be. I know that it's like that for a lot of people... but there are also a lot of people who still believe it's an important aspect in relationships. You're so cynical..." he trailed off sadly, only to have Jon shrug again. Brendon was looking between his friends, unwilling to say anything.

"Perhaps it really ought to be one of the things that separate us from animals then," Ryan muttered, still fighting to get around the gloomy thoughts looming at the front of his mind. "Perhaps it makes me an odd one out, but I know-" Or Tobias knew, and had told him. "-that unless you're some kind of unfeeling, selfish... whatever, you do give something of yourself away through sex. I mean, it is the closest you can physically get to another person. And there aren't a lot of things that are more painful than finding out too late that you've given part of yourself away to the wrong person. I'm not saying that you should only ever have it with one person. I just mean that it feels like a waste if it isn't at least someone you care about and trust and want to get closer to. I mean, everyone who's ever been in a relationship would probably agree that a breakup hurts more if you've actually gone all the way."

Brendon kept his mouth shut at this because, how could he know? Spencer wasn't talking and neither was Jon, who looked mildly guilty. Finally, Spencer nodded slowly. "It's true," he said, turning to Jon and looking at him sadly. "Sure, people might say that it doesn't mean much, but they know that, deep down, it does."

Jon looked away, and ate some more so that he wouldn't have to talk. Spencer smiled softly at him and patted his hand. "Well, then!" Brendon exclaimed. "This was a lovely conversation! Shall we go out to the garden?"

"Yeah," Ryan agreed, biting his lip slightly as a pensive look spread over his face. He was relieved the conversation was over, but at the same time he didn't want everyone to stop talking. He didn't want to have to face all the thoughts and feelings lurking in his mind right then. He hated the way they made him feel; worthless and guilty and like utter filth. He wasn't a bad guy, really, he was just doing his job. But he couldn't help but wonder how many people who were actually honest enough to call themselves prostitutes had used that line to reassure themselves. Finally he turned to Spencer with a small smile. "Hey, you've known Brendon at least since you guys started at Francis', and your father works here, so how come you've never seen it before?"

Spencer shrugged. "I was never invited, for one thing. The castle really doesn't mean much to Brendon, and my father didn't really want me lurking around. I have seen Grace Cottage, though, which is named after Brendon's mother, since it was a gift to her from the King. Brendon loves it there more than anywhere," he smiled wistfully, remembering the cozy cottage he'd seen many times when he'd been much younger.

"Sounds nice," Ryan stated, nodding along slightly as he turned to look over the garden. "The yard almost looks English," he observed with a slight chuckle, looking over the perfectly trimmed bushes and straight hedges and artfully situated and kept flowerbeds. He couldn't help but also pick up on the barbed wire surrounding the area and the small watchtowers with armed guards, not to mention the suited men subtly following them at a respectful distance, and he had to forcibly hold back a slight shudder. He didn't like the security at all, but right now he was - hopefully - on their good side and would have to calm down for things to stay that way.

Brendon nodded absently, smiling when Spencer remembered Grace Cottage. They hadn't been there together in far too long, but Brendon's father was rather reluctant to allow Brendon's friends into that private place. Teenagers had more of a chance of betraying him than anyone else, supposedly. Brendon didn't believe that for a minute. He looked around and saw Jon standing a few feet away, petting a big, grey cat. Brendon grinned, walking back the few steps and picking the cat up, much to Jon's dismay. "Sapphire knows she shouldn't be outside," he said, pretending to scold the cat. It mewled in his arms, but otherwise looked rather comfortable. Jon looked at him quizzically. Brendon cleared his throat, shifting uneasily. "One of my mother's cats... she has about ten, but they usually stay in the west wing where her rooms are... Don't know how this one got out," he shrugged, narrowing his eyes when Jon laughed at him, shaking his head.

"Jeez, Brendon. Mommy's boy, much?" he asked, smirking.

"There are worse things to be," Ryan said with a slight shrug before Brendon could retaliate and another argument could begin. "It's pretty," he added, looking at the cat with a small smile. But still, while he could appreciate the elegance and beauty in felines from afar, he'd never really been comfortable getting close to them. He had always been more of a dog person. He remembered that his biggest regret when moving away from his childhood home was the fact that he'd had to give his dog to the neighbours. Things had been too rocky between his parents for them to take care of it. "My neighbour had one back before I went away for school. It always got into fights with my dog. That thing was vicious; my dog was perpetually afraid of it."

Brendon snorted, shaking his head. "These cats are anything but vicious. I mean, they're my mother's; they're sneaky and stubborn, but really gentle," he said, stroking the cat's head with his free hand. When he looked up, he noticed that Jon was suppressing his laughter and glared at him. "Spencer, please punch Jon."

Before Jon could process what had been said, he was being punched- quite hard- by Spencer. He stumbled back, mouth open in shock, then glared and set his jaw. "You're mean," he pouted, folding his arms across his chest. Spencer chuckled and shook his head.

"Should we bring him back?" Spencer asked, looking back at Brendon, who bit his lip and shrugged.

"I guess it depends on whether your mother would miss him or not," Ryan stated, looking around the garden. As uncomfortable he was with all the security out here, he was even more so with the guards and the omnipresent cameras inside. "It's really nice out here."

"If my mom knows he's missing, then she's probably out of her mind trying to find him. They're kind of like her only companions sometimes," he scrunched his nose as he admitted that and looked back down at the cat. "Right, Sapphire? You're probably driving her insane. Bad kitty," he admonished, shaking his head at it as if disappointed. Jon snorted, reaching out to scratch behind the cat's ears and smiled when it purred happily. "But you guys can stay out here while I go, if you want," Brendon finally said, finding this course of action to be the best one.

"Okay," Ryan agreed, nodding slowly and biting his lip just a little. He wasn't really willing to admit it, but he knew he wouldn't feel nearly as safe without Brendon around. Probably because the guards were likely to obey the orders of their Prince, and at the moment Ryan was quite confident Brendon wouldn't let them do anything to him. Unless the truth got out, of course, but so far it hadn't even though he constantly felt as though it was written in thick, fat marker on his face, so he had to believe it wouldn't happen just then either. "I guess we'll just be... here?"

Spencer nodded, flashing Brendon a smile. "Yeah, we'll be fine. I know it'll probably take a while to walk wherever you're going since this place is huge, but you'll be back within minutes. It's really no big deal," he smiled again, reassuringly, and motioned for Brendon to leave. Brendon looked at him, then at Ryan. He smiled softly at the boy before turning to Jon and sneering.

"Don't do anything stupid," he said, then turned and left. Spencer chuckled and then turned back to Ryan.

"The security bothering you?" he asked conversationally, sitting down on a nearby concrete bench.

Ryan felt momentarily even more uncomfortable. He was being too obvious. But then, wouldn't a lot of people be uncomfortable with all the security? He hoped so. He shrugged slightly, forcing himself to meet Spencer's eyes even though he, as always, felt as though the much younger male could look straight through him. "I guess it's a combination of being born slightly paranoid and naturally a bit private," he finally stated, hoping the excuses would hold up. "In my father's business it's a lot of sending company agents after each other to steal new developments and inventions and shit and we practically got the paranoia thing drilled into us since before we could even understand what the secrets we couldn't tell were all about," he added. Hopefully that made it give a little more meaning.

Spencer shrugged, glancing at the closest man to them. "They kind of made me uneasy in the beginning, as well," he admitted. "But they're just doing their jobs, you know? And they're here to protect Brendon and his family. Not from us, but from people on the outside, I assure you. The only way you'd have to worry is if you were going to hurt Brendon in any way," he ended, a warning flashing in his light blue eyes. He didn't have any reason to think Ryan would hurt Brendon, but it was always good to know anything could happen. He hoped against everything that it would all be okay.

"Yeah," Ryan muttered, nodding as he looked down at his shoes. Hopefully that would just be taken as him being uncomfortable and embarrassed with his admissions of being wary of the security. In reality he just felt that Spencer had read him a little too well and was trying to keep the boy from seeing more, however it was he managed to do that. He didn't want to hurt Brendon, not personally. He had absolutely nothing against the boy and couldn't really pin the way the country was being run on him, but he still had a job to do and one that would probably end up hurting Brendon whether he wanted it or not. But there was a reason these people were called bodyguards, right? They were to keep the royal family from bodily harm. Perhaps he should be more worried about Spencer and Jon, the closest things to heart guards Brendon had.

Spencer smiled softly and reached up to squeeze Ryan's shoulder. "Don't worry, I don't really think you'd hurt Brendon, but..." he trailed off, sighing, then continued. "You never know." He tried to make his smile reassuring, but he'd probably just managed scaring Ryan away completely. Great. He really didn't want an angry Brendon after him. "So," he started, looking around. "Should we visit Jackson and risk Brendon being pounced by... all kinds of people... or do we stay in all week?"

"We're definitely going into downtown Jackson," Jon said firmly, finally reminding Spencer and Ryan that he was still there. He seemed to be quieting down a bit, and Spencer didn't know what to think of it.

Ryan nodded slightly, wrapping his arms around his own chest before deciding that no, he was an adult, he wasn't supposed to resort to something so childish, and especially so obvious. Instead he stuck his hands into the pockets of his slacks, grateful that the palace at least gave him an excuse to wear clothes that felt a bit more normal to him. "Jackson sounds good," he agreed. "I mean, I've never seen it before, so..." He shrugged, letting his voice trail off as he looked around him, silently observing the garden. If this didn't get better, if, a day later, he still felt like he was about to crack under the pressure of being at the palace, he'd get a hotel room or something. Or go back to the school and hope they'd let him into his room. The bureau would understand and would definitely prefer distance to exposure, and he could fake sick towards the others or something. He hoped it wouldn't get that bad, that he'd get used to it or something, but right then he really just wanted to get away. From the guards, from Spencer and Jon, even from Brendon and the constant need to perform.

Spencer smiled warmly, then glanced at Jon. "Hey, Jon, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" he asked, keeping his smile as innocent as possible. When Jon allowed himself to be dragged away, Spencer leaned forward and spoke to him in a whispered voice. "What's going on?" he asked, trying not to sound suspicious or accusing.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, head cocked to the side. Spencer rolled his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. Jon sighed heavily, rolling his eyes before answering properly. "Look, I know I keep teasing Ryan about his family and shit, but I'm not as stupid as I seem. I'm not about to make his family like this whole suspicious thing- especially when it's not- and get him in trouble with those fucking bodyguards. Those guys are probably measuring our every action in regards to Brendon's safety. I'm not going to give them something else to worry about. It's not like I know anything of importance, anyway, and it wouldn't be right to lead on that I do," he looked back towards Ryan, then shrugged. "Look at him," he said, smirking. "I hardly think he's any threat to Brendon's safety."

Spencer stared at Jon for a long time before nodding once and accepting the answer. "I see what you mean," he said, trailing off. "And, yeah, he doesn't look like someone who could cause much trouble," he shrugged. "But you never know, just like I said," he said pointedly before walking back over to where Ryan was standing. "Sorry, just wanted to ask Jon a personal question," he explained, hoping that since it was 'personal' Ryan wouldn't ask any questions.

Ryan nodded, but he could feel his heart thudding quickly in his chest. They had been talking about him, anyone with half a brain would've been able to discern that. And there was the chance they'd been comparing notes and suspicions, that Spencer had briefed Jon on his thoughts or something and they were a moment away from starting to question him or figuring everything out or something. Perhaps he was exaggerating, but he really did not want to be captured and rot in a prison or die or whatever else and he couldn't help but be scared out of his mind, and it took all he had in him not to show the fear on his face. He knew he was pale, though, and he felt oddly faint and was about five seconds away from declaring himself ill and retreating to his room where another camera would be awaiting his return and... since when was he actually paranoid? "Okay," he muttered, walking the few paces to the bench Spencer had previously occupied and sitting down heavily, letting out a slight, barely audible, sigh.

Before Spencer even had the time to look worried, Brendon was walking towards them, the smile on his face faltering when he noticed Ryan's pallor. "What did they say?!" he demanded from Ryan, glaring at Spencer and Jon, but letting his gaze rest on Jon for considerably longer. He seemed quite angry over, Spencer thought, nothing. Ryan was probably just feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the security. Spencer had felt the same way at one time. He tried to say as much, but was quieted with another glare from Brendon.

"Nothing," Ryan answered, giving a small smile. "I'm just not feeling that well. Bit of a stomach ache. I tend to get that way after longer drives, I just sort of hoped that since I hadn't felt it yet, it might not kick in." He shrugged slightly, keeping his shoulders up a little. Again he knew it was a bit of a childish defence stance, but it made him feel slightly better all the same and he allowed himself to stay that way for a few seconds before pulling his shoulders back down. "Just give it a couple of hours and I'll be all good again," he added, forcing another smile and hoping it didn't come out too much like a grimace.

Brendon looked at Ryan worriedly, then relented. "All right," he said, still frowning slightly. "How about we just take time to unpack and have alone time in our rooms, then? It's no later than five. We can do whatever you guys want after that," he said, nodding. Spencer grinned at him, chuckling slightly.

"Sounds good."

***

Ryan was on his bed, simply looking up at the ceiling, or so it would seem to the casual observer. In fact his eyes were still slowly darting around, looking for blind angles. There were next to none, and he was already quite clear on the fact that he, however risky it was, didn't really have much of a choice but to leave his small handgun in the bag instead of hiding it somewhere less obvious, and that he couldn't do much but surf and do homework on his laptop. He was definitely regretting having deleted his own email, because it would seem odd if he got online a lot and never checked his email, but the one he was using, well, there might definitely be some incriminating subject titles. Plus, the thing with the codes and the encryption might be a hint too. Any reports he made would have to be made in as few words as possible and sent with the highest level of encryption his (quite advanced, but not nearly as much as the special devices) cell phone could manage. It was all more than a little risky, and he didn't like it much, but it didn't seem like there was much he could do about it.

Deciding he should probably let HQ know the status quo as soon as possible, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and shuffled about on his bed in a way he determined looked natural until the back of the phone along with his body should keep the screen from view, he started typing away as quickly as the device could manage, explaining the situation and how he was handling it in as few words as possible before sending the message and deleting it from his outbox. Then he snapped the phone shut with a small sigh and put it back in his pocket, rolling over onto his side. He was still feeling a little queasy, and not at all up to meeting the others again. A nap, though, sounded good.

***

Brendon, instead of going to his room right away, had instead decided to pay his mother a visit. He found her in one of the libraries, curled up on an armchair and looking much younger than she normally did. Brendon smiled when he saw her, thinking that, for all that she was, she didn't look like a Queen right now; just a normal mother, enjoying a bit of catching up with her reading. Walking as quietly as he could, he came up behind her, gently placing his hands on her small shoulders. Gasping a bit, his mother quickly closed her book and twisted her upper body to look up at her son. "Brendon!" she exclaimed, one delicate hand at her throat. Brendon grinned and squeezed her shoulders slightly before letting his hands slip away and sitting in the armchair next to hers.

"Hi," he let his grin die down a bit, but it didn't quite disappear, dipping his head slightly in greeting. His mother, along with his close friends on occasion, was the only person to see him relax, let his professional mask slip from time to time. He only let himself because he knew that she would not accept being spoken to by another politician. It was something she didn't like in his father, though she understood why he did it. "My friends are just getting settled. I let them get used to their rooms and the castle.. it can be overwhelming, I'm sure you'd agree." His mother smiled at this and nodded. "We might go out after supper, if that's acceptable? We certainly won't be out late, but my friends want to see the town. Ryan, especially, given that he is new to the country.." trailing off, Brendon looked away from his mother's probing gaze. He had never been able to lie to her. He'd always been the child who told his mother everything, after all. Keeping this secret from her broke his heart, but he knew it was essential to his whole life and, most importantly, his reign.

"I'm sure that will be fine," his mother said, though she looked slightly suspicious. Smiling widely, Brendon thanked her before kissing her powdery cheek and exiting the big room. Once he was upstairs again, he went to his own room, but not without casting a longing glance to Ryan's. He didn't want to go into Ryan's room, with all its cameras, but he kind of hoped the boy would come see him, whether it took him hours or minutes. In his own room, he plopped down onto his bed and opened a book he was meant to read for school, planning on catching up. A worker would come fetch them for dinner.

***

When Ryan awoke it was only to realise that he'd hardly slept for more than twenty minutes, and that he was already bored to his skin. It bothered him, in a way, how much he seemed to depend on company to make the hands on the clock move these days. He'd always been a loner, the type who was naturally not only capable of, but good at entertaining himself without a whole lot of outside stimuli. Lately it seemed he had to be around one of the three others, preferably Brendon, to be capable of keeping the boredom at bay. And not only was he getting bored, but the thoughts from before seemed to be coming back, pressing in on him and stifling him, and in the silence of the empty room there was only so much he could do to silence the voices of his own mind. He briefly considered taking a walk, but remembered that walks had always had the sometimes unfortunate side effect of making his thoughts that much clearer and by definition louder.

In the end he decided to simply take a look at what the others were doing, and he got back up, pulled on his shoes and left the room, casting his bag a nervous look as he went. He hoped to God that none of the thugs that loomed around this place tended to take it upon themselves to go through visitors' luggage. Pushing the thought away, he made his way down to Spencer's room and knocked softly. When he got no answer he tested the handle and upon finding it unlocked, pushing it gently open to peer inside. Spencer seemed to have gotten the same idea he had and was sleeping peacefully, the covers tugged all the way up to his nose and his hair falling into eyes that, for once, weren't nearly perceptive and alert, but rather closed and relaxed.

He walked back into the hallway, closing the door after him as quietly as he could. He briefly considered looking in on Jon, but even though his relationship with Jon had improved a lot and certainly become a lot less strained, he was still far from the point of choosing to spend an uncertain amount of time alone with the boy. He and Jon were fine as long as one or both of the others were there to act as a buffer, but they hadn't yet reached the point of being friends independently of the others.

Eventually he settled on finding Brendon in the hopes that spending time with the younger male wouldn't simply make his doubts about what his assignment made him shout more loudly. At least he usually wasn't nearly as bored around the prince as he lately was on his own and somehow, in spite of the lies and the charade, there was just something about Brendon that made him feel oddly at ease.

The walk seemed shorter when he made it on his own rather than with the three younger boys, but after sets of stairs and long, winding corridors, he finally recognised the door and, taking a deep breath, knocked firmly, knowing that if Brendon was all the way in his bedroom, the soft knocks he'd attempted on Spencer's door wouldn't register.

***

Brendon, who had unfortunately fallen asleep while reading the, rather boring, school book, was roused suddenly by a firm knock on his door. He knew that it wasn't a worker or bodyguard, for they knocked very meekly, or incredibly loudly, respectively. Setting the book aside, he made his way to the door, straightening his clothes on the way; it wouldn't do to look dishevelled at any moment. He opened the door slowly, peeking out to make sure before opening it and nodding to Ryan. "Hi," he said, making sure to keep his voice friendly, but fairly neutral. He stepped aside to allow Ryan entrance, and then quickly closed the door behind the boy.

"Stupid guards," he mumbled, referring to the one who'd been standing outside his room, hidden almost completely by a statue that his mother had bought in Europe. Sighing heavily, he turned to Ryan and smiled softly. "Hey," he said coyly, chuckling a bit. He gestured towards the small sitting room before leading the way and sitting down on the right side of the small couch. He realized only now that he'd left the doors to his room open, and this bothered him a lot more than it probably should. It was Ryan, after all, but...

Sighing, he quickly got up and closed the doors, taking the key from his shirt pocket and locking the door. Once he heard the click of the lock, it felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as odd as it seemed to admit. He turned back to Ryan and shrugged sheepishly, before sitting down once again. "Got lonely without me, did you?" he asked, smiling again. His behaviour, now, away from the guards and the cameras, was much more like his normal behaviour; the one his father and country never got to see.

"Something like that," Ryan answered with a wry smile, watching as Brendon crossed the room once more and sat down next to him. He looked into the other boy's face for a moment, biting his lip. Brendon looked tired; almost the same kind of tired he had seemed after the weekend spent with his parents, but a slightly different variant. He reached out and grabbed the prince's hand in his own, lacing their fingers and squeezing slightly. "You know," he muttered. "I got here, and saw all the cameras and thought about how much I hate being watched. I didn't even realise... This is pretty tough for you, isn't it?

Shrugging uncomfortably, Brendon looked away for a moment. "It just gets annoying," he said, then silently berated himself for sounding so childish. It was, of course, annoying, but these people were there to make sure he was safe, that his life wasn't in danger. He had absolutely no right to resent them in any way. Frowning slightly, Brendon shook his head at himself. "But they're there for my own protection, and I really shouldn't be complaining. If it weren't for them..." trailed off, sighing. Instead he looked back at Ryan and smiled lopsidedly, then looked down at their entangled fingers. "Doesn't matter," he murmured. "Are you going to be able to sleep with the cameras around? I've heard it's pretty disconcerting."

Giving a small laugh, Ryan simply shrugged. "I think I'll probably forget about it when I do sleep," he stated. "Or get used to the thought, I don't know. Otherwise I'll just have to wrestle the mattress out of the bed and into the bathtub. Although I think that mattress is heavier than I am. It's massive, I tell you." He gave another little laugh, shaking his head slightly before he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss against Brendon's cheek. It was odd how reflexive small gestures like that were becoming. And perhaps even more disconcerting was just how natural they felt. "It's not that much of a problem," he finally lied. "What matters is that you're here and I'm here and we'll have fun with Spencer and Jon and make the best out of the time we get. Cameras are nothing against that." He winked and placed his cheek on Brendon's shoulder, letting out a deep breath. Over the last weeks he'd found out that apparently things like this that gave Brendon some sort of feeling of being the stronger one, the protector, whatever, put him more at ease. Made him forget about his inexperience or something. Ryan didn't really know, could only guess and do his best to read the tensing and relaxing of the younger boy's shoulders.

Brendon snaked his arms around Ryan's shoulders, though he kept his eyes on the door, just in case... but, no. No one was allowed into his room without his expressed permission, or if there was a dire emergency. He let out a breath, ruffling Ryan's hair and then chuckled when it tickled his chin. "Alright, as long as you're not completely freaked out. And I'm sure we're going to have a lot of fun downtown, though it's more for show than anything else. There are a few discos," he scrunched up his nose at this, "and bars and such, but unless you want to go shopping, we're going to be doing a lot of sight-seeing," he paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. "Not to mention the bodyguards that will have to accompany us. That is, if my father doesn't tell us to stay in. He does that sometimes... he'll come back from a meeting or something and ask me to stay in the castle or the school for a few days." Looking down, he ran his free hand in Ryan's hair, feeling how soft it was, and grinned despite himself. "It's kind of odd, knowing that there are people who want to harm you-- kill you," he finished casually.

"I think that's the way it's always been," Ryan stated softly. "Figuratively speaking, if you put every person on the Earth up on a long row, those whose heads stick up the farthest are the ones it's most tempting to cut. And then of course there are politics." He rolled his eyes slightly. "I used to plan on studying law, but then I realised that I was going to encounter enough politics just from inheriting the family company and I didn't want more, so I'm probably going to get a bachelor in business and take psychology or something as a minor. Politics are tiring, but they're also the reason for most things going bad in the world. If someone is trying to kill you, then suffice to say that it has to be some big-shot politician who's behind it." He shook his head slightly again before leaning it back against Brendon's firm shoulder. "That didn't have a lot to do with anything," he said. "Sorry. I guess I just can't see it from either side. I don't understand what it must be like to know that in some way you are constantly in danger, but neither can I understand anyone wanting to kill you." He wasn't even going to mention harming. He didn't want to harm Brendon, never had. He had absolutely nothing against the other young man. But he also knew that the politicians who dictated his moves made it impossible not to do so, at least in some small way. "Suffice to say that if you spend too much time thinking about it, it will drive you crazy." He smiled slightly, a snicker teasing in his nose. "You should probably see about finding a distraction."

Brendon made a sound in agreement. "You're right, of course. Politics are disturbingly exhausting. And thinking about it does drive me crazy sometimes, but I try not to do it. Easier said than done, of course, what with bodyguards shadowing my every move. But I've gotten pretty used to it. Well-- kind of, any way," he chuckled, then looked down at the boy in his arms again. Brushing Ryan's hair back from his forehead, he grinned. "Is that what you are? A distraction?" asked, eyes bright with amusement. "Because if you are, you're not doing a very good job at the moment... in fact, I think a different tactic might work better. If you are a distraction, that is." Brendon blushed a bit, then quickly willed it away. Really, now! He was seventeen years old. It wouldn't do to be caught blushing as much as he'd been doing these past few days. It was completely out of character.

The snicker finally came out full force for a few moments before Ryan managed to force it down, craning his neck and pressing his lips against Brendon's. It was becoming easier, more natural, by now. Perhaps not least because he wasn't full of nerve-wracking doubts about his own adequacy or how to do it right anymore. It was actually... nice, in a way. Although, really, that didn't matter. Didn't really have an impact on anything at all. He pushed away his ever-intrusive thoughts and reached up a hand to cup Brendon's cheek as their lips started to move slowly against each other. The angle was awkward, though, and the strain in Ryan's neck forced him to pull away after another few seconds. "Just... a sec," he muttered with a small... was that a giggle? No, a laugh, most definitely so. He pulled up his legs and rose up on his knees before leaning in again. The angle was still not the best, but definitely better than before, and as their lips realigned, Brendon's hand immediately tangled in his hair, and a slick tongue started probing carefully at the seams of Ryan's mouth. The elder of the two opened up immediately, and Ryan couldn't help a small moan rumbling in his chest as he sucked Brendon's tongue inside. Damn, this wasn't supposed to affect him like this.

Brendon chuckled softly when Ryan had to rearrange his position, then quickly pushed his lips against Ryan's own soft ones. Leaning forward, he shivered when Ryan moaned, panting through his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. God, this felt good. He slid his hands through Ryan's hair, then down to his neck, pulling him forward, though no urging was needed. He pulled away when he needed air, gasped in a lungful, and then smashed his mouth back onto Ryan's. The tongue tangled with his was slick and warm. He had thought, only a few weeks ago, that this would gross him out. Instead, he revelled in it. Pushing himself up, Brendon carefully manoeuvred their bodies until he was half-laying on top of Ryan, his hands now flat on the other boy's chest. He could feel warm skin through the shirt Ryan was wearing, could feel the other boy's nipples hardening beneath his palms. Brendon pulled back with a soft gasp, kissing Ryan's chin, the corner of his mouth, before raising his head to peer at the other boy. He was quite sure that his whole face was red by the way his skin almost burned, but it certainly wasn't from embarrassment. Biting his lip, Brendon continued breathing loudly through his nose, hoping that Ryan didn't think him some sort of-- tease, for having stopped.

Taking a few deep breaths, Ryan managed to calm his racing heart even as he lifted his hands, letting one rest on the back of Brendon's neck, the other caressing his cheek as a soft smile spread over his face. His lips felt swollen, face flushed and hair mussed, but for some reason he didn't mind. Probably because he merely mirrored his counterpart on those counts. Lying on his back on the couch, which he suddenly wasn't even sure how it had happened in the first place, made him feel oddly exposed, and Brendon's hands felt heavier on his chest than they rightfully should, and so warm. For some reason, though, he still didn't mind, just had an insane urge to either laugh or pull the younger boy back down. Slowly, he carded his fingers through the dark, lush thickness of Brendon's hair, revelling in the softness, trying to distract himself from the sudden realisation of an incessant throbbing below his waist that was definitely adding slight embarrassment as a cause to the pink he knew must be tingeing his cheeks. He pulled the younger boy gently down far enough to press a small kiss against his forehead before releasing him, looking up at those big, brown eyes above him. He was definitely not in any hurry to pull Brendon's body down enough to feel the swelling, nor have him look down. Not only was it embarrassing, he also didn't want to scare the prince off, which was still a recurring fear. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Brendon nodded, then quickly cleared his throat of the gravely sound of his voice. "I mean, yeah," he chuckled, not really knowing why. It wasn't a particularly funny moment, but the laugh had escaped without his consent. He stayed silent for a few seconds that seemed to drag on, willing himself not to look down the length of his body (or Ryan's). He was hoping that the other boy had been affected in the same way, but he didn't want to bring attention to the fact that he was, quite obviously, aroused. Drawing in a shaky breath, Brendon smiled down at Ryan. "I just think that... maybe it's not very wise to be doing-- this. In the castle, I mean," he glanced up at the door, then back down at Ryan. "Just makes me feel a little uneasy..." he trailed off, shrugging uncomfortably from his position. He moved one hand to lean on the couch near Ryan's head, and then moved the other to cup Ryan's cheek. He kissed him once, just a soft press of his lips, then pulled back and grinned. "This feels ridiculously sappy," he stated, chuckling once again.

"I guess you could say that," Ryan concurred with a dry laugh, smiling slightly. "And yeah, I understand. Definitely less nerve-wracking back at school." He slowly pulled himself out from under Brendon, suppressing the urge to reach down and readjust himself. At least he wasn't wearing the ridiculously small jeans he would've been at school. The castle was good for some things. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if it were nearly dinnertime anyway," he added. "Someone will come get us in a moment." The last was mostly speculated, since he didn't exactly know the normal schedule of things around here, but it seemed viable, and for some reason he'd needed to remind himself.

Brendon nodded, pulling farther away from Ryan. Sitting up on the couch, he looked towards the doors once again. "Well, shall we go bug Spencer and Jon, then?" he asked, grinning. He was sure that his friends had had enough of the alone time. Or, at least, Jon probably had. He was never one to like the time spent with only himself as company. Actually, if Brendon were to guess, he'd say that Jon had probably already gone to bother Spencer by now. He wouldn't be at all surprised if it were the case. Taking Ryan's hand, he pulled the boy up off the couch and lead the way to the door. Before opening it, he kissed the boy softly once more and smiled. Sighing, he slowly opened his bedroom door and let his hand slip away from Ryan's as he exited the room.

They made their way rather quickly to Spencer's room, in time to see Jon knocking on the other's door. Hearing them approach, Jon turned around, lifting one eyebrow. "Well, well, well," he said, smirking. Brendon rolled his eyes, mouthing for him to shut up. Snickering, Jon turned back to knock harder on Spencer's door. It was answered a few seconds later, Spencer looking dishevelled and not at all his usual well-dressed self. Jon grinned widely at the sight. "You look hilarious," he stated, trying to smooth down Spencer's hair, which looked very much the bird's nest. Brendon chuckled as well and pushed them both into Spencer's room, motioning for Ryan to come along.

"Alright, Spencer. Brush that hair and then we'll go down to dinner. Someone will probably come get us soon enough."