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Side stands in the blazing sun, sweating as he watches his people cheer after the ending of father's speech. His smile remains plastered on his face despite the sweat dampening his clothes and his throbbing feet yearning for a respite that fortunately, is slated to come soon. Side doesn't remember much of what his father had said, but in Side's defense, all of his father's speeches are quite boring. They're always the same, droning on about protecting the people and stopping thievery and whatnot, each time ending with cheers from the people, which indicate that Side is finally free. Every time, Side stands on the balcony staring down at the same sight each time one of these speeches happen, once again accomplishing nothing with his presence.
As soon as Side sees his father turn around and start the walk back inside Belle castle, Side looks back at the balcony door where Greg, Side's personal bodyguard, is waiting for him. Greg looks more relaxed than normal, yet still keeps one hand on his sword as he stands in the doorway. It makes sense; Greg has always been most relaxed when Side is safely within the castle walls, far away from any danger. It's odd, since no one has bothered Side in his nineteen years of life, but Side can't go against the wishes of his father, so Greg has been by Side's side for as long as he can remember.
Only after hearing the main balcony door close does Side begin his walk back to Greg. He tries not to feel the eyes of the peasants below him as he walks, yet Side is consciously aware of how graceful each step he takes should be. The Belle royal family should strive for perfection, according to father, and never settle for less. This walk is smooth, smooth enough that Side won’t hear another lecture from his father on the matter. When Side walks through the door, Greg closes the door behind him and Side feels his posture relax as his cheeks finally begin to rest from the aching of smiling.
“I’m guessing you’ll want to rest, your highness?” Greg says. “In preparation for your trip tomorrow?”
Right, the trip. Side's father had hired a special tutor specifically to teach Side how to barter with the merchants. Side is supposed to make an appearance at the markets, proving that the heir to the throne is capable of… something or another. Side doesn't care much for the details so long as the day ends without his father getting angry again, which is much more likely to occur if Side goes to his bedroom now instead of allowing himself the chance to mess up while having dinner in the dining room with his father.
“I would,” Side says. “Thank you, Greg.”
“Follow me then, your highness,” Greg says.
Side knows the way back to his own room, but he knows better than to argue with Greg, so he follows him down the same hallways as always. While the stonework on the walls in every hallway and room are uniform, every stained-glass window in the castle is unique, making navigation of the otherwise bleak castle easy. There’s supposedly a meaning behind each window, some type of historical thing, but to Side, each window is just another pretty picture that creates a roadmap that points Side where he needs to go.
As Side passes by the usual knight on horseback, the half-built castle, and some gathering in the ballroom amongst the other windows that Side passes on the journey from the castle balcony to his bedroom, his eyes remain fixated on the windows. The silence on the journey is deafening. He can almost hear Greg's voice in his ear, happy to tell a young prince the story about the window Side happened to point at. What exactly Greg said all those years, Side cannot for the life of him remember. Whatever it was that Greg said, Side is too afraid to ask what it was, which means when the two of them reach Side's room, Greg is the one to break the silence.
“Be sure to go to bed before the sun goes down,” Greg says. “Preferably not long after you're brought your dinner.”
“I will,” Side says, shoving the 'I know’ that wants to come out deep inside of him.
“Good night, your highness,” Greg says. “Rest well.”
“Good night, Greg,” Side replies.
Side opens the door to his bedroom and walks in. After Side closes the door to his room, the first thing he does is yank off his glove and fling it on his bed. Side immediately feels the relief of finally being able to take off that stupid, uncomfortable sleeve that is especially too warm in the summer. Side then pries his shoes off of his feet before flopping on the bed with a sigh of relief. His feet still throb, but with enough rest, he'll recover soon enough. He lifts his right arm above his head, once again reading the words etched onto his skin.
Shut up, fuckwad
Words too vulgar for a prince, his parents had always said. Certainly never words to be uttered by a princess. Those words, although a terror to his dear mother and father, were a comfort Side was able to latch onto. The ladies, fair as they were, never caught Side's eye in the same way that the gentlemen have. Not that it matters too much, considering the fact that two men alone cannot produce offspring, but at the very least fate seems to be in tune with how Side feels.
Side lets his arms rest and contemplates what to do next. Greg had been kind enough to say the word rest, but only resting feels like a trap. Greg of course would not mind if Side spent the rest of the day relaxing, but Side’s father would no doubt take offense to the fact that Side would be wasting an opportunity to study everything he should know before he becomes king. Opportunities squandered are only experienced by fools, or something like that.
Side sighs and pulls out the map of the market. Perhaps if he stares at it for even longer, he won’t get lost roaming the market tomorrow, but Side has his doubts. There is a reason Greg is always by Side's side when visiting other kingdoms beyond protection, after all. Despite this, Side reviews the map, planning out routes in his head, until there's a knock on the door announcing the arrival of dinner. After Side puts away his map and eats, he changes into his sleepwear before lying down for the night.
Side wakes up to a banging on his door. He groans and opens his eyes to the sun shining through his window. His eyes adjust to the light as Side stretches his body in an attempt to shake away his dreariness for the day. His entire body feels like lead sinking into a cloud. Even after following Greg's advice of going to bed right after dinner, exhaustion courses through his veins as his body remains unresponsive to movement.
“Your highness,” a servant calls out. “It is time for you to wake up.”
“I’m awake,” Side says. “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure, your highness,” the servant says. “Breakfast is ready in the dining room whenever you’re ready.”
Side hears the servant walk away and contemplates falling back asleep. It would be so easy for him to sink back down into his sheet when he already feels so heavy. Why bother winning the battle against his weary eyelids when they demand more rest? Why refuse the demands of his very own subjects? Alas, it would do no good to earn the ire of the king himself, so Side continues his struggle to rise. With herculean effort, Side manages to sit up on his bed and dangle his feet off of the edge. From there, Side gets off the bed and puts on acceptable attire, including his arm sleeve, before walking to the dining room.
Side eats his breakfast while one of the servants reminds him of the agenda for the day. The morning contains one last lesson from the special merchant tutor and the final fitting of his finalized attire for his outing. Side will embark on the trip immediately after lunch to arrive on time for plenty of time for bartering before the market closes for the day. All in all, not too bad of a day in Side's humble opinion.
The merchant tutoring goes surprisingly well, all things considered. Side only stutters once or twice during his encounters, but otherwise performs to his tutor's expectations. The tutor even goes hostile for a while, much to Side’s delight. Although Side knows the merchants are unlikely to act hostile towards Side while he has a multitude of royal guards surrounding him, he appreciates the practice with hostile situations all the same, especially when figuring out when to back out of a deal versus when to pursue further.
The tailoring appointment is a mess, as per usual. Between avoiding the needles necessary for “last minute fixes” and having to stay still for an extended period of time, the experience is an ordeal. Still, nothing can be done about the fact that Side is to look the way his father seems fit and Side has been assured multiple times that these tailors are the best in the kingdom. There may be merit to that statement, considering how well the clothes fit after the tailors are done, but the little pokes of pain along his arms and legs torment him all the same.
“Perfect, perfect!” the tailor cries. “Off you got to the stables now.”
Side decides to heed the words of the tailor before he changes his mind and decides to attack Side once more. The stables are not far from the tailoring room, so it is not long before Side finds himself standing at the stable door. Well, this is it. This is everyone's chance to see the crown prince himself, in all his glory. Side takes a deep breath before the short walk over to the stables and opening the door.
The stables are the same as always. A dirt floor, wooden stalls, some metal buckets, and stacks of hay strewn about. Despite the unassuming appearance of the stables themselves, the horses in the stables are beautiful. Their smell is slightly off-putting, but otherwise their presence is majestic. Each horse boasts a shiny brown coat with well-kempt manes, as expected from the staff the castle hires. Four of the horses are attached to the carriage Side will be riding in while the others wear a saddle. The horses are also the only ones in the stable that don't turn to Side and give him their immediate attention, which is a refreshing change of pace. The guards, including Greg, and a man who seems to be the coachman, on the other hand, do.
“I have fully prepared the carriage for you, your highness,” the coachman declares. “And will ensure you make it to your destination.”
The coachman sure does seem energetic, despite looking like the oldest person in the room. The man is bald, but unlike Greg, he does not wear a helmet that hides this fact. His head is nor completely hairless, however; the man sports a brownish-gray goatee on his face. His clothing is brown by virtue of both the fabric color and the dirt on it and he wears a sturdy pair of boots. His enthusiasm is welcome, especially among the uptight soldiers in his company.
“Thank you,” Side says.
“Are you ready for the trip, your highness?” Greg asks.
“I am, Greg,” Side says.
“We’re about to go out in public,” Greg says. “We need to be formal.”
Oh. Right. Perhaps one day Side will remember to use proper titles on public ventures without being reminded, but today is not that day. Side doesn't understand all the stiffness behind the formalities in public, but if father insists on it, Side shouldn't argue with that assessment.
“I am ready, Sir Greg,” Side says.
“The carriage awaits, your highness,” Greg says, gesturing to the carriage.
“Thank you, Sir Greg,” Side replies.
Side walks up to the carriage as Greg opens the carriage door. Side holds onto the railing and the step to the carriage wobbles slightly as Side steps on it. Oh great, it’s this carriage. Side had been hoping he’d get to ride in one of the newer carriages on this trip, but alas, he’s stuck with this one. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with it, especially when Side’s gotten used to adjusting the way he enters this particular carriage to account for its wobbliness. Side has confidence that his father wouldn’t hire a coachman who would place him in an unfit carriage, so he goes in without question.
Nobody else joins Side inside his carriage, as per usual. The coachman controls the four horses from the outside of the carriage while the soldiers sent to guard Side on his journey, Greg included, ride on horseback surrounding the carriage, protecting him from any outside threats. Side is left alone on the uncomfortable creaking wooden benches within. At the very least, the carriage has eloquent wood carvings within which looks elegant despite the aged wood.
Although the inside of the carriage is a change of scenery in comparison to the stone castle, it pales in comparison to the land between the castle and the rest of Belle Kingdom, viewable via the windows on each side of the carriage. The trees, the grass, the mountains barely visible in the distance are all so beautiful. There's so much vibrant green out there in unorganized patches, nothing like the rigidity found within the flower hedges at the castle. Oh, how Side wishes for the opportunity to open the carriage door and touch the grass outside. If just for a moment, the carriage could stop and Side could feel the fresh grass on his feet. Unfortunately, the carriage has no time to stop for Side to take off his shoes and run around.
As the horses and carriage come closer to the main market in Isa City, the heart of all trade in Belle kingdom, Side stares at the various shops and homes he passes. He pretends not to see all of the heads in windows staring at him, gawking at him, as he passes by. Nevertheless, he keeps his posture steady and stiff, patiently waiting to arrive at his destination. He waits as the road goes from dirt to paved stone and the buildings around him become more numerous.
In the middle of a somewhat busy street, Side feels one of the wheels bump into a rock. The carriage jolts up before coming back down. The sound of wood cracking bursts his ears, leaving them ringing from the noise. Side feels himself falling down further than he came up and the guards shout around him and the horses neigh in terror as he slams onto the ground.
When Side opens his eyes, he sees the horses run rampant around him. His heart skips a beat as he frantically looks around, looking for an opening, looking for a way out. When he sees it, he doesn’t think; he sprints into the nearest stone building, hoping that one of the panicked horses won’t follow. He closes the door behind him before the horses get a chance to injure him and sighs in relief.
Side waits a while, listening for a lack of panicked horses, before he opens the door he came in. Side looks around, but neither Greg, any other soldier, nor the horses are in sight. Okay, this is fine. Side may not know where any of his guards are, but at least he isn’t dead or severely injured. He may be alone, but Side's alone in the castle all of the time. He can handle one slight deviation from the plan. Side just needs to wait here until one of the soldiers comes back this way. Simple.
One of the doors behind Side creeks and Side looks behind him. To the left, a man comes through one of the doors and makes eye contact with Side. Side doesn’t get the chance to say hello before the man pulls out a knife. Huh. Side's tutor didn't teach him how to handle a guy with a knife after running away from stampeding horses due to a carriage falling apart, but a part of Side thinks that was intentionally not in the bartering lesson plan.
"Aw, french," Side says.
"Shut up, fuckwad," the guy says, lunging forward and bringing the knife up to Side's throat, closing the door Side had opened in the process.
Holy shit. Side's eyes widen as the man's words process in his mind. His soulmate of all people is currently threatening him with a knife and this guy's kinda hot. Like, really hot. He's so handsome and hot and cool and oh god those muscles. Side could probably spend all day looking at those incredible, juicy muscles. Side's throat dries as his heart pounds in his chest, definitely because his life is in danger and definitely not because he's being manhandled by someone this good looking, ha ha.
"If you want to stay alive," the guy says. "You're gonna stay quiet. You understand?"
Side gulps and nods his head. The man's voice is a bit higher pitched than he expected on a man looking the way this man does, but this voice sounds alluring regardless, like the sirens from the old myths Side's mother was so fond of. He's far more handsome than any muse or even the Sistine Chapel.
"Good," the guy says.
The man continues to hold the knife at Side's throat as the man's other hand slips into Side's right pocket. Side silently gasps at the touch. He knows he should feel violated as the man takes a handful of coins from Side's pocket, but Side finds that his face grows hot and his knees wobble instead. If it weren't for the walls behind him, Side's sure his legs would be incapable of keeping himself upright. The touches of his inner thighs don't help his predicament as he finds himself pinned.
"Oh ho," the man says while emptying Side's pockets. "Mayhaps you should be a bit more careful with your gold, my guy. It would be a shame if your shit got stolen by a handsome man such as myself."
Shit. Does he know? Side's unsure of the chances that his man can read, so it's entirely possible that he has no idea. Given the man's insistence on Side not speaking, he can't exactly ask. All he can do is get lost in those bright blue eyes and feel the warmth in his cheeks and… no. Side cannot get distracted. He does his best to look down with the knife at his throat to avoid eye contact only to look down straight at the man's crotch. Oh lord. Side's eyes widen as his mouth dries and he immediately looks back up. The eyes are safer. The eyes are safer. The eyes…
“Well,” the man says. “I do thank you kindly for cooperating with me in this endeavor, but I will be taking my leave now.”
The man pulls the knife away from Side's throat before walking back to the other side of the building, opening and closing the door he originally came from. Side stands there, shellshocked for a bit, before he sinks down to the ground and hugs his knees. Okay, so he hasn’t been found by the guards yet, but he's also not dead, which is a positive. Side puts his hands in his pockets, confirming that the man did indeed take all of the coins in there. He then wraps his arms around himself and realizes that he's still shaking.
Side's not sure how long he sits on the floor for. All he knows is his mind is hazy. Whenever Side opens his eyes, it feels like the world is out of focus, so he closes them instead. The cold of the stone floor and the wall behind him pierces Side's bones despite the warm weather outside. It's almost peaceful in a way, being lost with little expectation of being found. It's strange, feeling nothing but the cold and the pulsing in his head, in his ears.
It's quiet, almost. Surely there's chatter out there that Side is tuning out. There's no birds chirping, no wind swirling, no nothing. And it remains nothing. Except, wait. Is that the sound of hooves? As in, the horse's hooves? Side stands up slowly, relying on the wall to help himself up as he inches closer and closer off of the ground. Once he's standing again, he reopens the door to find Greg on his horse, the one click clacking away.
“Greg!” Side exclaims. Aw hamburgers! Side forgot about the titles. “Sir Greg!”
Greg whips his head around until he's looking at Side in the doorway. Greg pulls on the reins and the horse comes to Side. Side exits the building and closes the door behind him, making sure not to get too close to the horse's hooves just in case. If Side went through all of that just to get kicked in the head with a stray hoof, what was the point of it all, you know? Extra suffering just for more suffering?
“Prince SideArms,” Greg exclaims. “What were you doing in there?”
“I ran from the horses.” Side's voice is shaky. “To avoid getting trampled.”
All signs of anger instantly vanish from Greg's face. He dismounts from his horses, holding onto the reins as he does so. Greg removes his helmet and sets it on the floor, careful not to spook his horse with the noise. He places a hand on Side's shoulder and looks at Side, concern etched onto his face.
“Are you okay?” Greg's voice is gentle as he looks over Side. “Are you hurt?”
"I, uh…" Side says. "I think I just got robbed, but I'm fine."
"You think?" Greg exclaims. "Did someone steal from you or not?"
"Well, yes," Side says. “A man took all of my money, but he didn’t herd me."
God damn it. Why the fuck did Side say herd instead of hurt? Oh god, that's so embarrassing. In front of not only Greg, but other soldiers as well? Side can only hope that either the others didn’t notice or they won’t remember to tell the king about it.
"Well, the trip to the market is canceled, given what happened," Greg says. "But that's still not ideal. Do you remember what he looked like?"
Does Side remember ? He'd never forget the man's piercing blue eyes, his luscious, long brown hair, his surprisingly pale skin, his well-defined muscles, for as long as he lived. Side cannot forget the sirens, the muses, who enter his life that easily, especially when destiny has something to say.
"I, um, I think he might have had brown hair?" Side lies. "I don't remember much else."
“But he was definitely a man?” Greg asks.
If Side was blindfolded during the encounter, he would have had his doubts about whether his assailant was a man or a woman based on his voice alone, but despite the man's length of hair, Side is reasonably certain the robber is indeed a man. If he wasn't, he surely wouldn't be as muscular or have as much confidence or have such a noticeable bulge to him that Side in hindsight probably should not have peeked at.
“Yes,” Side says. “He was a man.”
“Well,” Greg sighs. “All we can do now is get you home safely, your highness.”
“Rest assured, your highness,” the coachman says. Side hadn't even noticed the coachman had shown up. “The horses have been tamed and calmed down by yours truly on this eventful day. There is nothing for you to fear, my prince.”
“And what of the carriage?” Side asks.
“I am truly, deeply, sorry, your highness,” the coachman says. “I carefully inspected the carriage in the morning and it was in perfect condition. There was not a single creaky plank of wood in the entire carriage. Even so, I should have been more careful to avoid the rock lying on the road. I hope your highness can find it in himself to forgive his humble servant.”
Holy shit. Side hasn't heard so many lies come out of someone's mouth in his entire life, which would not have been an impressive fact if not for him running into a thief today. Even with all of the honey the coachman smeared onto his words, Side can still easily smell the bullshit in his entire speech. Unfortunately, if Side is rude in response to the coachman's apology, he'll never hear the end of it from father dearest, and adding fuel to the already disastrous fire seems ill-advised. That, however, doesn't necessarily mean Side has to lie, per say.
“How am I to return to the castle?” Side asks. “Without the carriage?”
“Well,” the coachman says. “I'm sure we can work something out–”
“You'll ride with me,” Greg says. “We'll go slow to make sure you don't fall during the ride.”
Side looks up at Greg's horse. Side's never gotten to touch a horse before. Sure, he's been in plenty of carriages pulled by horses, some more stable than others, but never has Side gotten closer to one of the horses themselves than what was strictly necessary. Is it wise for Side to get close to the horse? He has to, if he's going to be on top of the horse, right?
“How am I going to get on the horse?” Side asks.
“I can help lift you up, your highness,” the coachman says. “With Sir Greg pulling you up as well, you should be able to reach the saddle safely.”
Sure enough, after Greg gets back on his horse, Side finds himself being lifted by the coachman while holding onto Greg for dear life. Greg and the coachman bicker back and forth at each other for a while as they ensure Side doesn’t fall as the horse tries to deal with all the chaos. During this process, the other soldiers come back one by one once they see that Side is safely back with Greg. After trial and error, Side finds himself securely on the saddle sitting behind Greg with his arms wrapped around Greg’s waist for stability.
“Well look at that,” the coachman says. “It wasn’t that difficult, your highness. You’re now on the horse with zero problems. That wasn’t so hard.”
“Thank you for your help,” Side says.
The coachman bows before walking over to one of the horses that was pulling the carriage. There’s no saddle or anything attached to the horse, but that doesn’t stop the coachman from climbing on the horse anyway. The process goes much more smoothly than what Side went through, which is just completely unfair. The horse lowers down for the coachman and waits patiently for him, which is something Greg’s horse absolutely did not do. Somehow, the coachman sits on the horse with ease whereas Side needs to hold onto Greg without feeling unstable?
“You’d better hang on tight, your highness,” Greg says, snapping Side out of his jealousy. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride back.”
Side squeezes Greg’s torso tighter as Greg shouts to everyone that they’re heading back. As Greg cracks the reins to get the horse moving, Side closes his eyes as he feels the wind on his face and the horse galloping below him. Side leans into Greg and relaxes on his back, burying his face into Greg's back to hide the small, soft smile slowly creeping onto his face. It’s strange. Even though the ride on horseback is bumpier, he feels more… safe. He feels warm and fuzzy and like he never wants to let go. If it weren't for the jolting up and down requiring Side to keep his grip tight, Side reckons he'd have fallen asleep by now.
It's a strange feeling, feeling the wind as the group rides along, even with the decreased speed. Not that Side knows the feeling of being on a horse going faster, of course. It feels like Side is floating, in a way, despite him falling and rising in a rhythmic way. During the journey, Side notices when the hooves transition from clomping on pavement to on dirt, but it’s not until the horse stops and Side hears the stable door open that Side realizes he’s back at the castle. The smell of the stables hits Side as Greg directs the horse back into the stables.
After the stable doors close, Side opens his eyes to see the other soldiers and the coachman unmounting from their respective horses. Is Side supposed to let go of Greg now? No one told him to let go, but it could be one of those things where Side should just know to let go now that the journey is over. Surely if Greg wanted Side to let go of him, he would say so, right? Even if Side let go of Greg, how is he going to get down from the horse?
“Terrance, Clinton,” Greg says. “Go fetch a platform to assist our prince with dismounting safely.”
“Yes captain.” Two of the soldiers salute before leaving the stables.
“Please be patient, prince SideArms,” Greg says. “We’ll get you down safely as soon as the soldiers come back.”
“Okay,” Side says.
While Side waits, he watches the coachman tend to the soldier’s horses. He removes their saddles one by one and then stores them on one of the shelves. He then retrieves several brushes and starts the process of brushing through each horse with alarming efficiency. That’s how it works, Side supposes, when the kingdom insists on employing the best of the best. Even if the coachman doesn’t know how to keep a carriage together, he’s gotta be good at something that keeps him employed here. The coachman is in the middle of brushing the 5th horse when the two soldiers return with some wooden boxes that they place on the ground near Greg’s horse.
“Your highness,” Greg says. “The platforms are here. You can let go now.”
Side forces himself to pry his arms from Greg's torso. He'd been holding on for so long that it feels wrong not holding on anymore, but he lets go. He watches as Greg gets off of the horse before the various guards surround Side as Greg gives him instructions on how to dismount. Side chooses to focus only on Greg, tuning out everyone else as multiple people grab and push him at every step. Once Side is safely off of the horse, the coachman removes the final saddle and tends to the horse like he did the others.
“Now that that’s been taken care of,” Greg says. “We should report to the king. He'll want to know what happened.”
“Well, if that is all there is for me to do today,” the coachman says. “I'd best be on my w–”
“You're coming too,” Greg says. “The carriage is your responsibility.”
“Oh, but I am an old man, Sir Greg,” the coachman says. “Too much excitement does a number of these old joints, you know. I'm not like all you youngins anymore. And besides, I must attend to my poor horses after the day they have been through. They must be terribly stressed out after today's events.”
“I understand your concerns,” Greg says. “But you were a witness to the events that occurred. If you don't show up, his majesty will question why. It's best you come, even if your presence isn't strictly needed.”
“Oh, alright then,” the coachman says. “If you believe his majesty wishes for me to be there, I will join you in this meeting.”
“Thank you.” Greg turns to the rest of the group. “We shall head there at once. I am certain his majesty is expecting us.”
After the chorus of “yes Captains,” Greg leads the pack of soldiers along with Side and the coachman to determine Side's fate. Side went on the planned market trip and returned with no goods gained in exchange for the carriage and the gold he had on him. His tutor is going to be so disappointed with those results. He had such high hopes with Side's promising results for this? A conversation with the king explaining how nothing happened with all the work he did? He did get to meet his soulmate and ride on a horse, though, so the experience wasn't all bad. Even if Greg will be against him meeting that thief again…
“Greg?” Side says.
“Yes, my prince?” Greg says.
“You think father will agree to horse riding lessons?” Side asks.
“Being on a horse makes you more exposed.” Greg says. “The carriage is safer.”
“The horse is less likely to fall apart,” Side says.
Greg glares at Side and Side takes that as his cue to shut up. All things considered, it could be worse; at least Greg has the decency to not call Side a fuckwad in the process. The rest of the walk to the throne room is made in silence. Side focuses his attention on the coachman, who stiffly walks in formation with everyone else. Side's not sure if he's been before the king before, much less if he's had to break bad news to the king before. A part of Side feels bad for the man, but Side wouldn't mind seeing the king call out the man's lies either.
Upon arriving at the throne room, Greg knocks on the door. After announcing the group’s intentions with the king, a guard from the inside opens the door and gestures for everyone to enter. The throne room is as grandiose as always. Eloquent patterns are etched on all four walls of the room as well as on the stone pillars leading to the end of the room where the king sits on the throne made of gold, which still looks as new as Side remembers first seeing it. After passing by all of the pillars, everyone bows before the king before being told to rise.
“So,” father says. “How was the trip?”
Side knows he should speak up, but what does he say? How does anyone possibly explain what happened? Each second that passes is more agonizing than the last, yet Side cannot bring himself to break the silence. Side tries to not be obvious about looking at every soldier and coachman to see if any of them look like they're about to speak up, but Side can't imagine his father doesn't notice the awkwardness. Fortunately, the king does not wait for too long before breaking the silence himself.
“What happened?” Father sighs. “I was told the tutoring was going so well.”
“The bartering wasn't the issue, your highness,” Greg says. “The carriage fell apart before we arrived at the market.”
“What?” Father exclaims. “What do you mean the carriage fell apart?”
Greg, the carriage driver, and the other soldiers take turns recounting the tale of how the carriage fell apart after running over the rock. Apparently, it takes a good amount of time to calm down frightened horses when there's more horses than humans, which explains Side not being able to locate where the soldiers went. When Greg finishes up the story with the soldiers finding Side in the abandoned stone building, the king turns to Side.
“You ran away into a building, son?” father bellows. “What were you thinking?”
“I didn't want to get trampled by the horses,” Side stammers. “So I ran and hid.”
Side braces himself for the lecture he knows is coming. Of course separating from the rest of the group was stupid no matter how terrifying it was being surrounded by out of control beasts. Shouldn't a prince know better than to abandon his guards? Shouldn't the royal family trust that guards know how to do their jobs? It's exhausting, having to justify every small thing that doesn't align with the king's perfect vision of what his heir should be, but what can ya do?
“That is… not unreasonable,” father says. Wait, what? “What happened in the building before the guards arrived?”
“A man threatened me with a knife,” Side says, perplexed. “I, um, I lost the gold?”
“And what did this man look like?” father asks.
“He had brown hair, for sure,” Side says. “I was, well, I was more focused on the knife. Sorry.”
“And what did the knife look like?” father asks.
“It was gray,” Side says. “Had a wooden handle. It was, um, also very threatening.”
“I see. This is a very troubling occurrence, indeed.” Father stays silent for a moment, contemplating. “What was the state of the carriage before the incident occurred?”
“The carriage was in perfect condition when I inspected it this morning, your majesty,” the coachman says before Side gets a chance to answer.
“Then that thief must have sabotaged the carriage between your inspection and when the trip occurred,” father says. “For it to be that unstable.”
“That must be it,” the coachman jumps in. “You are very intelligent indeed, your majesty.”
“We'll investigate how the thief pulled it off at once,” the king says. “I trust you'll help with this endeavor, Junkyard?”
“Of course, your majesty,” the coachman says. “I will track down their thieving ways in your honor.”
Side feels the words bursting from his chest, but he suppresses them before he can say them aloud. That carriage has been unstable for years. It would be an incredible feat of luck for the man to sabotage a royal carriage years in advance in preparation for a trip to a market, but if father believes it to be the case, who is Side to say otherwise? Father always knows best, after all. Why question the word of the coachman who has reason to lie about the state of the carriages when you can blame incompetence on thieves instead? Is this really where this conversation ends?
“That's not going to catch the thief though,” Side says. The words feel dumb, coming out of his mouth, but he continues speaking anyway. “There's more to it than that.”
“Don't you worry, son,” father says. “I have a plan in the works to teach those thieves a lesson once and for all.”
“You do?” Side asks.
“I’ve been loath to use it,” father says. “Because it requires cooperation with one of them , but what must be done must be done.”
“You're going to cooperate with thieves?” Greg exclaims. “Your highness?”
“Just one,” the king says. “We can talk details later. For now, my son needs rest from the ordeal he's been through.”
“Yes, your highness.” Greg bows and then turns to Side. “Prince SideArms, please come with me.”
Of course yet another plan is being formed without Side there to witness it. Why would the king ever want to involve his crown prince in decision making anyway, even if that means only being able to listen to the conversation? Why is Side being dismissed from the meeting talking about important plans for the future before the coachman is? What did the king say the coachman's name is? Junk something?
Regardless of Side's thoughts on the matter, Side knows that's an order and not a request, so he follows Greg out of the throne room without saying another word. He listens for any sign of someone following him and Greg out of the room, but the footsteps don't come. The thought of him being in there, involved with the king's plans, makes Side's stomach churn. How is Side ever going to trust the coachman ever again?
Side can't stop thinking about the ride back to the castle. Being on a saddle, so close to a living being… It was incredible. It's hard to explain why or how he felt so calm on the back of an animal he thought was going to kill him, but if Side's learned anything throughout his life, it's that he knows absolutely nothing about anything. May as well add something onto the list, right? If Side could experience that again, if just for a little bit, maybe he'll figure it out.
“Here we are,” Greg says, in front of Side's door. Is the walk done already? “I'll be going back to the throne room now, unless there's anything else you need from me.”
Side may as well ask. The worst Greg can do is say no, right?
“If I may…” Side says.
“Yes, prince Side?” Greg says.
“Can you at least consider the horse riding lessons?” Side asks.
Side must look incredibly pathetic at the moment because Greg opens his mouth and then pauses, immediately closing it. Holy shit, has Side managed to decide something about his own life for once? Is this the day or is Greg actually considering it or is he thinking of a way to gently refuse Side's request.
“Being outside would be beneficial for you, despite the inherent risks of horseback riding,” Greg says. “I can talk to the king about it.”
“Thank you, Greg.” Side's shoulders sag in relief.
“Get some rest now,” Greg says. “You have a busy day tomorrow.”
“I will,” Side says.
Side can't imagine doing much else other than resting at the current moment, so as soon as Side enters his room, he immediately walks over to and lies on his bed. Not wanting to get back up, he slowly pries off his shoes with his feet and the side of the bed before swinging his legs on top of the bed with the rest of his body. He lies there for a while, staring at the ceiling, arms by his side, before his curiosity gets the best of him. He peels off the sleeve on his arm and raises his arm above his head.
His words are definitely red now. There’s no mistaking it; that man is without question Side’s soulmate. He's met his soulmate, yet he doesn't even know his name. Side doesn't even know if his soulmate has realized what happened yet. Side hadn't been able to see any words written on the man, red or otherwise, which makes it entirely likely the man hasn't looked at his words since their encounter. How far would his soulmate search for him? How many people would he ask before he realizes he cannot find who he seeks?
Side puts his sleeve back onto his arm. There's no point dwelling on the matter; there's nothing Side can do about it now. He changes into his nightwear and finds the book he was in the middle of reading: Lethal Company. Father would likely be furious if he knew Side was reading such a fantasy novel, but the concept of consistently dying and then coming back to life fascinates Side in a way he can't quite understand. He reads through more of the novel, stopping only to eat dinner, before putting the book away and drifting off to sleep.
It's dark, yet Side can see the man in front of him so clearly. He's exactly as Side remembers him. Piercing blue eyes that peer into Side's soul. Luscious, long brown hair that perfectly compliments his face. Bright, plump lips that make Side feel weak at the knees. Fine muscles more than capable of tearing Side apart at the seams.
"All your power, all your status," the man whispers. "And yet here you are, on your knees."
Side remains kneeling, where he belongs, as he stares into the man's eyes. There has never been a sight more beautiful in all of Belle kingdom than him and what is the point of beauty lf not to be worshiped?
“Aren't you going to speak up?” the man asks. “Stand up for yourself?”
Side tries to speak, but his words end up stuck in his throat. His jaw locks up, unable to move as he tries to muster the courage to say something, anything. Even if he could say something, what would he say? He’s the prince and yet he bows down to a simple peasant? No, the man in front of him is much more than the faceless peasants Side stares at from within the castle. There's something about him that's so mesmerizing, so great that Side can do nothing but admire him.
“No?” the man says. “How pathetic. You're not powerful at all, are you? Bound by the words on your arm.”
Side finds himself incapable of doing anything except admire the beauty of the man in front of him. The man chuckles at Side's lack of a response and pulls Side down. Side's focus shifts from the man's eyes to his crotch, where he watches the man shimmy out of his pants and underwear. Holy shit. The man’s dick is large, much larger than Side’s. Side gulps, knowing where this is going.
“Well, if you aren’t going to talk,” the man taunts. “You may as well put that mouth to a better use, fuckwad.”
Side suddenly wakes up, panting. He hugs himself and realizes that once again, he's shaking. He sits entirely in the dark, in silence. His heart is pounding so hard and, well, that’s not the only part of Side that is hard. Side’s face burns at the realization. He's only met this mean for a brief amount of time, doesn't even know anything about him other than the fact that he's a thief, and yet…
"Oh shit," Side whispers to himself. "I am so fucked."