Chapter 3: the prince and the pauper (III)
Michael was late today.
An uneasy feeling grew within him, festering in the prince's chest. He could be overreacting, but as the tower clock ticked second after second, the worry only worsened.
After a great fifteen minutes, Rian recognised the familiar shadow upon the cobblestone roads.
"Michael!"
The boy did not return his greeting. Instead, his head was hung low, and he held his arms as though he was cold.
Rian hurried over. Immediately, he spotted the wounds on his arms, and his initial intention to joke evaporated, replaced with heavy concern.
"What happened? Who did this to you?"
"...they didn't like it."
Michael raised his head, and Rian gasped. Bruises littered across his face, and his eyes were bloodshot, looking utterly defeated. The corner of his lip bled, and smudges of the dried blood tainted his lower chin. Michael was beaten.
"What do you mean?" Rian asked softly.
"My family. I played for them, like you said, but they… they hated it. They said it was noise, noise!" Michael pushed him away, and squatted on the ground, covering his face. "Then they hit me until I managed to run away. I think… I think if I didn't run… they would've killed me."
The prince didn't know what to say. All of this was happening too fast, like a whirlwind, and he couldn't understand. Why did Michael's family not like his music? Why did they hit him?
If he were in the palace, he would have condemned Michael's family instantly. He would have them punished, and be exiled from the kingdom so long as they live.
But right now, in front of Michael, he didn't think of those at all. All he could think of was to stop his tears, and to find a way to restore the bright smile back on his face.
So with awkward and amaetur arms, Rian hugged the boy.
Surprised by the sudden embrace, Michael stopped crying, and tried to push him away again.
"I'll… I'll dirty you! Rian, you need to let—"
"Oh, would you stop saying that already?" said Rian, and hugged him closer. "Treat me as your own if you will. But I'm not letting go until you feel better."
At this, Michael stopped struggling. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around Rian's torso, and pulled close. Then, a new wave of emotions washed over him, and he started crying all over again.
—
"Thank you for comforting me."
Rian shook his head, and swung his legs as he sat atop the fountain. "It's what I should do. They weren't right to treat you that way."
Michael pursed his lips. "It doesn't matter if they were right or not. What matters is if they will still give me a roof to stay under and food to eat." He ran his hand across the running water, watching his muddled reflection. "I'm too scared to go back. I don't know what they will do to me."
"Then don't go back. You can stay with me."
This made Michael sit up. "Do you… do you really mean it?"
Rian subconsciously rubbed the insignia in his pocket. Even though this was their third meeting, Rian felt an inexplicable attraction towards the pauper boy, and yearned for the moment his leisure hour struck, as that would grant him the liberty of fleeing the palace gates.
But truth be told, his father the king would be absolutely crossed with the idea of bringing a stranger home, and this might mean that his evening escapades were no more. And what's worse, there's no saying what other kinds of punishments were awaiting him. Providing a chance for Michael to live in comfort might spell the doom of his own.
Yet, Rian never doubted his decision.
With a genuine smile, Rian took out the insignia, and gave it to Michael. "From now on, you shall live in the royal palace, as my most trustworthy aide, and friend."
He expected a grand display of gratitude, but Michael merely blinked at his offer.
But the boy is not to be blamed for his reaction.
Michael had seen these kind of tricks before. Malicious nobles would trick the young and gullible commoners with their titles and words, offering them once-in-a-lifetime chances at fortune and luxury. The ones who went along with it never came back, and from what Michael had heard over dinner, their body parts were listed at top prices in the black market.
Rian may appear to be kind and understanding, but he was still a noble, and that means he was still a threat.
So with a shake of his head, Michael declined his offer. "I appreciate it, but no thank you."
Rian was flabbergasted. "What? Michael, I'm serious—"
"How do I know you're not here on purpose?" he said, and backed a few feet away. "The first time you saw me, you already knew who I was, didn't you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You're… you're planning to—"
"Your majesty!"
Footsteps thundered down the road, and Rian gave a heavy sigh. In a flash, the guards quickly surrounded the town square, and one of them intercepted the prince and the commoner.
"Get on your knees, is this how you look upon his majesty?" barked the guard as he grabbed Michael by the neck and forced him down. "Apologise to his majesty—"
"Leave him!"
His voice rang throughout the vicinity, and at once every personnel stood alert. The guard holding Michael let him go, and the young boy fell to the ground, coughing.
"Should anyone else touch this boy, I will personally send you to the guillotine." Rian's eyes swept past his group of armoured employees, his gaze as sharp as the blades they wielded.
Michael recovered from his coughing fit, but mentally he was still reeling. What was going on? Did the guard just say 'his majesty' ? Is the king or prince around? And… was that Rian speaking?
He couldn't recognise that voice at all. The Rian that just spoke was totally different, a stranger. No, he was authority. Even Michael himself felt the need to obey his words, and he wasn't even in his right mind yet.
Rian noticed Michael's confusion, and so he bent down towards him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Did he hurt you? Are you feeling alright?"
"Rian, what's going on?" Michael asked, looking up warily for fear that what he thought might be true. "These people, they're from the palace… are you, are you royalty?"
A light chuckle escaped his lips. "Do you believe me now?"
Oh, poor Michael almost went crazy, and Rian was prepared for it. So before the boy could bash his head into the ground, screaming his apologies and how he would gladly die for treating the prince of Hiraeth so rudely, Rian was one step ahead and covered Michael's mouth.
"I just told you that you could treat me as how you would treat you own," the prince laughed, and even the guards on standby were dumbfounded.
Muffled words answered him, and it struck Rian how cute he looked with his cheeks cupped.
"I don't want to hurt you further, so I'll let go. But you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid, okay?"
Michael nodded, and slowly, the hand on his mouth released him. On the prince's words, Michael did not do anything, except for staring up at his friend-turned-prince, who was smiling back at him.
"Now that you believe my identity, I shall say this again." He cleared his throat, and young Prince Darian once again, offered his hand. "From now on, you shall live in the royal palace, as my most trustworthy aide, and friend."
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