The kingdom woke up before the prince did.
Gentle light spilled through the stained glass windows, spreading across the marble floor. Outside, bells tolled, signifying the start of the day. It called everyone to motion, a daily routine that the Kingdom followed. However, inside his chamber, Lucien remained motionless—buried beneath his sheets of white silk, listening to the motion outside of his bedroom door.
He had learned to tell who was walking by the sounds of their footsteps, often not wanting to be caught awake in the middle of the night. The audible stride of his tutor meant another morning lesson.
Lucien sat up. The air smelled strongly of a delicious aroma, likely the servants preparing breakfast per usual. He reached for the curtains and hesitated, seeing his reflection in the mirror by the bed:
Silver hair, tired eyes, the same expression he'd worn since he was a child. He was a prince in the name, but a prisoner bound by duty.
Outside, the city was already active. Merchants setting up their stalls. Children running in the alleys beyond the palace. For a brief second, Lucien envied them. The way they lived their life without a worry of duty and expectation was always something he had longed for.
Then came a knock at the door.
"Young Master," a voice called from the other side. "It's about time for your lessons."
Lucien turned toward the door. The voice was one he recognized, his tutor calling him was routine at this point.
Releasing a sigh, Lucien walked toward the bathroom. Flipping on the switch, light illuminated the space. It was grand and beyond the needs of anyone, but for a prince, no one questioned it. He turned on the sink and scooped water into his palms, bathing his face in it. He had purposely avoided the mirror, his face something that he hadn't yet taken a liking to.
"Young master, you look so good today!"
"What would we do without you, young master?" All lies masked by kindness. Lucien already knew that his existence brought trouble to many. The competition for the crown isn't something that others lightly—even though he despised the title.
Knocking twice, Sir Kalith, Lucien's tutor, opened the door, peeking in. "Prince, are you awake?"
"I thought I told you not to come in without my permission." He walked out of the bathroom, meeting the man at the door. He had been Lucien's tutor since he was an ignorant child, playing the role of a parent better than his actual mother and father.
Adjusting his spectacles, the tall man chuckled. "But you expect me to do it anyway."
"Yeah, you don't listen to me at all. Not good for a low-class tutor for you to disobey the Prince, you know that?" Lucien replied, stifling a laugh.
Kalith smiled brightly, wrapping his arm around Lucien's shoulder. The thick, gray robes covered his nape as he led him out of the door.
"You don't have to do that anymore! I'm not… a kid." He tried to escape from his grasp, but it was tight enough to ensnare even a beast.
"This is to ensure you don't run off somewhere like you always do. Every time you do that, I have to take the fall for you."
"Yeah, well… I'm seventeen now, so forgive me for expecting a little freedom," Lucien muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Can't do anything in this God-forsaken palace without someone looking over my shoulder every damn time.
The two entered, colorful flowers covering the ground and the scent of honey permeating the air. This was usually where Lucien conducted his studies—away from the watchful eyes of everyone else. Both of them sat at the tea table, sliding into seats opposite from each other.
"Alright," Kalith grabbed books from under the table, each one heavier than the next. They stacked on top of each other, the most recent one reading "Basis Of Sigils." Almost everyone residing in the palace knew how to use Sigils, even Kalith himself. Lucien remained one of the only few who couldn't properly use them, which became the reason as to why he was removed from the Royal Succession.
"Let's cover these subjects again."
"There's no point! Years of trying, and you think I'll just change today? Change the subject." Lucien shouted. The topic was a sensitive one for him.
Kalith shook his head, sighing. "Everyone is born with the potential you're not an exception. You don't even need to unlock your innate ability, just try—"
"Sir Kalith! You're needed at once, please accompany me." A noble dressed in a navy-blue cloak called out, his eyes sharp and precise. Amongst the high-class nobles and royalty, Kalith was considered a commoner who simply had the luck to make connections with the royal family.
Nodding, he instantly stood up, reaching over to ruffle Lucien's hair before leaving. He watched Kalith walk through the glass-door, disappearing into the shadows.
Minutes passed after his leave. Slamming the table and looking into the sun, Lucien groaned loudly.
"Why the hell is it so boring?! A big palace like this, and there isn't a single thing to do!" In the midst of his complaining, Lucien caught something in the corner of his eye. In the far distance: a girl sitting by the pond.
Intrigue washed over his expression, he knew exactly who it was. The very same girl who he'd had his eyes on for a while. He admired the way her golden sun-kissed hair flew in the wind, and that pretty face… that pretty face that he couldn't see.
Rising out of his chair and mustering up the courage he lacked, Lucien slowly walked in the girl's direction. Hovering over her, he could see that she had a verdant stone in her hand, marked with strange writings.
"Is that a Sigil Stone?" His curiosity flared up, ignoring his nervousness.
The girl flinches with fright, looking above her. The two locked eyes, Lucien's cheeks burning scarlet. Upon getting a proper look at his face, she springs up and faces him. Her bright smile triggered butterflies within Lucien's stomach.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" She spoke with a teasing voice. Lucien created distance, taking a deep breath to calm himself down for a moment.
"No… I'm no one important." The girl looked slightly surprised, but the manner on her face reverted to how it was before. She held her hand out, expecting Lucien to reciprocate the gesture.
"I'm Viole, nice to meet'cha." She greeted kindly, causing Lucien to hesitate. Staring into her features, he had begun to recognize the way she treated him was different from others. Even if it was because of the fact that she didn't know he was a prince—he wanted to experience it for as long as he could.
Their hands intertwine. Lucien feels a sense of warmth in her hands that forces him to squeeze harder than normal.
"Lucien! Nice to meet you, too. Say, what're you doing here all by yourself?"
She hummed for a bit in response, walking along the warm grass. "Well, my parents are still working, so I thought I'd kill some time here. You?"
"Uh… kind of in the same boat. I was supposed to get my tutoring lessons here, but he had to run out and do something."
Viole stops, whistling with amusement. "Tutoring? Are you a noble or something… it'd explain why you're walking around the palace willy-nilly."
"What about you? What's your reason?" Lucien asked.
"My mother and father are both servants of the Kaelthar royal family. It's…it's strange, you know? To be in a place you know you don't belong. Everyone stares with hating eyes."
Lucien clenched his fists, knowing the feeling all too well. "I know what you mean. They're not better than you, or anyone else! I've learned to endure it over the years…"
Viole gazed at him with shock written on her face. She hadn't expected him to relate to her so strongly, or even feel the same way she did. Looking on to the sky, Viole formed a humane smile.
"I think I'll grow to like you, young prince."
"I'm not a prince!" Lucien blurted, both flushed and surprised that she found out. In reaction, Viole laughs, giggles, her hand covering her mouth.
"I guess you royal family people really are ignorant. You're all so knowledgeable about what happens within your circle, but have no clue on how to interact with 'commoners.' You've been sheltered all your life, I kinda feel sorry for you."
Lucien's eyes flickered with shame. Viole had been speaking with gentleness all this time, but her last words felt real. As if she was blaming Lucien for being born to the royal family. He could do or say nothing, his only retaliation was to keep a stern appearance.
"Come on…" she muttered, her voice quieter than before. "...don't be so serious. If I left to sneak out of the palace, would you go with me?"
Lucien looked up, contemplating whether he'd risk a lecture just to follow a girl he knows nothing about. Turning around to verify that no one is watching, he shrugs his shoulders in reply.
"If you ask me to, then I'd go."
Without a moment's notice, Viole latches onto Lucien's hand, pulling him along.
"Then let's go!"
Lucien didn't resist—he only allowed himself to be guided by her, like a beacon of light. Compared to his political life in the palace, Viole resembled a symbol of hope.