Chapter 1: Gael
I look around at the palace; a building like no other. It truly is marvelous, like the stories I’ve heard as a youth.
My armor gleams in the sun, my handy sword hanging on its sheath. A wave of nervousness makes me inhale deeply, a cool breeze ruffling my hair.
And that’s when I knew that as soon as I went through that large door, my life will be different.
With that, I close the journal, setting my pen down on the desk. Today is my first day as the Crown Prince Aspen’s guard. I was to put the Prince’s safety as my priority.
Tonight is my first night on duty. Once putting away my journal, I make my way towards the prince’s chambers.
The crown prince is the only legitimate son of His Majesty the King out of 11 children. By default, he is Crown Prince and must carry out specific duties to ready him for when the time comes for him to take the throne.
As his guard, I must protect him from assassins, accompany him wherever he goes, and fight in battle at his order. I have been training for this position all my life, and the time has finally come.
The night is quiet; the moon shines beautifully, complimenting the castle’s marble colors. Crickets sing their songs in the bushes.
Tonight was a silent night.
. . .
The next morning, I wake up and dress into a thin, blue robe, specially made to specify a guard. I don my boots, tie the cloth belt around my waist, and make my way to the prince’s room, entering when given permission.
“Your Highness,” I say, as I take another bow. “Your schedule for today consists of a meeting with the duke of the North Kingdom to discuss weaponry and machinery that will be traded with a kingdom overseas. After that, you have your lessons which end at sunset, and dinner with the queen.”
He does not reply. It takes all of my willpower to not look up at the prince. That can lead to my untimely death.
“Your—?”
“You may leave,” He simply states. His voice is soft yet monotonous. And that’s it.
I bow, leaving the room and closing the large doors behind me as I wait for his exit.
. . .
Today is a wonderful day; the sun shines on us brightly, giving trees the food they need to bear fruit. I accompany the prince and his servants to the drawing-room.
“Prince Aspen will now enter the drawing room!” I announce, opening the doors for him to enter. He walks in, his white, royal robes elegant and graceful against his skin. It compliments his rather thin build. His orange hair gleams in the soft sunlight as the duke stands up to greet him.
“Your Highness. A pleasure to see you again,” He says, bowing deeply, respectfully. The prince bows back, before taking a seat in his respectful chair. The duke eyes me. “And who may this be?”
“My royal guard,” The prince replies. “He is new.”
“I see, I see,” He extends a hand. “I do hope you take great care of the prince. He is an important individual to me.”
Well, I’d suppose. He IS the one who let’s you live such a luxurious life.
I shake his hand, nodding. “Of course, sir.”
“Shall we start, then?” The duke sits on his seat, and the meeting commences.
. . .
“Your Highness, the queen is waiting for your attendance...” I say, on one knee in front of the prince. He is standing on his balcony, letting his body feel the gentle breeze of the night.
He does not reply, as he has done so for the past hour. He continues to take deep breaths, letting his eyes glisten under the moonlight.
“Is my presence mandatory? Are there any important decisions I must make?”
I look up in confusion but immediately lower my head as His Grace turns his head to look at me. “Nothing in particular, but the queen asks for you.”
“Then send a messenger to her: ‘The prince will not be joining you tonight’.”
“...Yes, Your Highness.”
He turns on his heel, walking past me, his pure-white boots clanking against the floor.
“Also,” I stand up, facing the Prince with my head low. “This is an order: Do not bow to me when we are alone.”
I look up slightly. “Pardon me?”
His voice is like a dandelion: gentle and beautiful, but fragile and delicate.
“You can bow when we are out in public, but only to put on a show. In my chambers, you may treat me as someone familiar.”
I purse my lips in surprise. “Your Highness, I couldn’t possibly—”
“Are you refusing to take my orders?” He interrupts. His voice suddenly sounds firm and authoritative, but it sounds forced at the same time.
“No...”
“Lift your head.”
I take a slow, calming breath, before nervously lifting my chin. My lips purse on instinct as I have a look at his face for the first time.
He is...beautiful.
The orange in his eyes rivals the hues of the rising sun. His small face seems to accentuate his precise jawline, all whilst making him look...sorrowful. His lips look like they have not lifted into a smile in years.
“What is your name?”
It is not common for a royal to ask a servant’s name. I avert my gaze slowly as the awkward pressure in me continues to rise.
“I am Gael Solace.”
“Gael...” He mutters under his breath, before nodding. “Your name is beautiful. Do you know how to write it?”
“Commoners are not meant to read and write, Your Highness.” I remind him. He looks at me as if he didn’t understand me. But I’m not too sure, because his expression does not change.
“It means joyful. You will achieve great joy in your life."
“Thank you for gracing me with your kind words, Your Highness,” I say, stopping myself from bowing and potentially going against his orders.
I wait patiently, waiting for his next words or actions.
“I do not want to be bothered any longer. You may continue your duty outside. Do not let anyone into my room tonight.”
“As you wish.”
I leave the room, briefly making eye contact with the Prince. His eyes hold no emotion; as if someone had painted a disturbing orange over a tall landscape of green grass. He smells of wood and leaves; much like the forest I was tasked to train in.
Just what must a prince go through in the palace to look so pitiful?
