King vs. Second Prince

In a narrow corridor squeezed between the east and west palaces, two eternal enemies once again met. Father and son, uncle and nephew, the King and the little second prince performed yet another spectacular showdown.

Neither expected to see each other as without even an ounce of communication, both had tacitly agreed that whilst Ulfstead was sick, there was no need to suffer through uncomfortable meals together.

The Old Eunuch watched from the side, his eyes a haze from a memory that existed nearly an entire lifetime ago.

If any other servants remembered King Sirvas as a child, or maybe his brother, the King of Hellebore, they would have realized how similar this second Prince was to them. The resemblance was almost uncanny with very few differences.

Quite possibly, if the King were dead, this child might have passed as his reincarnation.

Seeing the unpleasant expression on the boy's face, the King taunted, "Don't you have classes? No one expects you to be like the eldest prince, but at the very least you shouldn't embarrass him."

Although he didn't dare to, the Old Eunuch wanted to sigh. He didn't understand why the King's teasing turned so aggressive and awkward when it came to the second prince. It seemed the sadistic need to bully always focused on this child.

All who were present thought that this would be the end of the matter as the second prince was renowned for having a stingy mouth. 

Yet today, Lyfette audaciously retorted with a milky voice holding a thousand blades, "Shouldn't you be at work? No one expects you to be a good father so you might as well be a good King."

The corridor turned as still as a frozen lake. On such a sunny day, an unanticipated breeze chilled skin and spines left and right. In their experience, it seemed only the rightful Son had been able to make snide passes. And even then, the Son would finesse his speech and tone to be more tolerable in His Majesty's ears. 

Holy fuck...

Why was the little prince so blunt? Were those death knells they heard? More importantly, was this really the second prince whose words were few and far between? 

Maybe if it was another time, Lyfette would continue to ignore him like air, but his dislike for this man was at an all time high as of late. The need to express the abhorrence built up and up and up until whistling steam rang in his heart like he was bathing in a covered pot of boiling water.

Who cared if this man was the King? Little prince Lyfette didn't like him one bit! Humph!

The calloused fingers that held a brush all year long rhythmically tapped the obsidian pendant that was still in the King's possession. His visit today was unplanned, but he had just been thrown through a loop with the news from the imperial harem. More than ever, he wished to see the child that used to bring peace to his heart.

Lamentably, he just had to run into this snot nosed brat.

Rather than a simple cane, he wished to call for his flogger instead. The order was even at the tip of his tongue.

But then, a thousand thoughts fluttered through his mind, none of which were good for the boy in front of him.

Ha!

With this, a false calmness washed over him.

He had no time to be arguing with a kid, especially one who always showed him a stinky face. Even when the second prince was an infant, the first thing he did when he was held by the King was pee on his beard. Then, after the King reluctantly 'granted forgiveness', the infant proceeded to up-chuck his nannies milk on his face...

From the King's perspective, it was destiny that the two would forever be at odds. 

But then the King recalled his eldest Prince's behavior over the past few weeks. Rebellious, intolerable. Was this behavior a product of his misjudgment? Self-reflection had never been the King's strong suit, but perhaps... he had been slightly unreasonable somewhere in his approach... 

Unfortunately, even if he internally acknowledged his lack of empathy toward his Son, the King didn't have any intentions to change the relationship with his 'good nephew'.

With a turn of his feet, the King took a right to the passageway. His strides were long and refined, almost as if he was gliding. 

Cat-like eyes widened seeing the enemy take the lead. With fire under his bum, Lyfette's chubby legs trotted to catch up - no, to pass him!

Thus, the race began.

Through the short path between the palaces, through the breezeway to the west entrance, across the inner courtyard, over the short, decorative bridge, back into another passage, and up the first flight of stairs, the kin-turned-rivals were nearly neck to neck.

Well, maybe that was an exaggeration...

Like the bastard he was, the King sauntered half-a-step in front at a controlled pace, each of his steps equivalent to two running strides of the four-year-old's. Sure, he had no intentions of corporal punishment, but maybe it was about time that this child be exposed to some discipline. 

'Once the prince is well, you'll be joining him in training. This King will never allow for the two of you to be weak chickens.'

What angered the little prince more was that the dastardly man didn't even take this unspoken challenge seriously!

An unforeseen competitive nature flared to life as the boy disregarded the obvious disparage in height and burning in his lungs. 

Lyfette, who prided himself in being a self-made lazy pig that would rather dawdle than run, was unknowingly exposing his hide for the world to see.

And did the King see! Seeing how capable he was, only confirmed the King's decision! 

Anyhow, the two were nearing the finish line and hurtling up the staircase, one more dignified than the other, when...

A rounded ball took a tumble from the top of the third floor; the speed momentous like a star shooting through the sky. 

Instinctively, the King pulled the child to the side, allowing for the stoutly figure to roll passed them. 

~

The priest was in a hurry, his fleshy face shaded a mixture of green. Never had he ever felt the cross on his chest leaden so heavily from guilt.

He had to leave. Leave the palace, leave the capital, leave the Kingdom of Besirique and never come back!

During those few seconds of escape, his mind wandered through his limited grasp of the world, thinking of where he could go. North, south, east, west.

Possibly underground in a ditch; never to see the light again.

The last option might have seemed too much, but under the Eyes of God, his options were no longer endless.

Just when his thoughts couldn't be any more jumbled, he reached the staircase and missed the first step. Round and round, he rolled about as his head painfully hit every other corner. On the bright side, his flesh became a perfect cushion to protect his bones from breaking.

Inversely, when he reached the bottom, he didn't know that his landing spot was splayed right before the feet of the King's and second prince's entourage...

~

"God of Light has blessed His Highness, the First Prince."

Ulfstead didn't know what to think as his trusted steward and guards bowed before him like he was some messiah.

The little bird tweeted once more, its wings aflutter as it hopped up from his palm to the top of his bed head. 

"What are you all doing? What have I told you about kneeling? Hurry and get up!" He chided. 

The three men raised their heads and eyed the golden fledgling perched on their Prince's head. They had forgotten that the child had not been exposed to the Consecration of the Temple since he was born. 

Then, as if this matter couldn't have taken a stranger turn, the devote doctor returned, flanked by two figures he wasn't expecting until later in the day. Of course, their entourage also trailed behind, but this was not key to the current situation.

In a blubbering mess, jiggly jowls trembled as knees hit the stone floor. Banging his head several times behind and then in front, the doctor proclaimed, "The humble servant apologizes for I have sinned!" The cowardly eyes soaked with tears focused on the chick. "I confess! I confess!"

The King spoke from behind, as if to voice God's question. "Tell us, what sins have you committed?"

"I have extorted, I have bribed, I have fornicated with a married woman, I have unclean thoughts-"

If the King had little self-regard, his eyes would have rolled to the back of his head. He had no care for these. No one ever claimed for this doctor to look like a good person. "What sins have you committed against this King or the Prince?"

Still distraught and stuck in delusion, the mess of a man revealed, "I've had relations with His Highness's concubine mother!"