The Fifth

"And who exactly told you that?" Perry asked. 

There was no way he'd be able to survive a week, let alone an entire year if he had someone constantly looking over his shoulder and watching his every move. And probably reporting back to the Queen or the Clan Leader. Or both.

The man seemed to consider him for a second before answering. "You did. Your Highness."

Well. Okay. Perry did not expect that. Unless…

His eyes widened and his stomach bottomed out as s sinking realization hit him. 

"I-I." Perry cleared his throat and tried to straighten his posture. "I don't suppose we, uh, had a conversation about this new role of yours. Did we?"

Please, say no. Please, say no. Please, please.

The man's smile widened. "We did, though it was brief. You called out my name and I-"

"Okay, okay. I-I think we all get the picture." Perry gestured his arms wildly and felt his cheeks burn. 

Seriously, how much longer would this keep happening? How many of his brother's ex-lovers did Perry have to keep running into? And now this one wanted to be his bodyguard? There was no way. 

Perry paused, momentarily stumped by his own thoughts. For a brief moment, he hadn't even questioned the fact that the prince was his brother. The realization was enough to just make him stand there and stare at the gree-eyed man, dumbfounded. 

And there he stood, wearing his dead brother's clothes and staring at his dead brother's lover - or ex-lover, he wasn't very clear about that yet. 

The smile on the other man's face vanished and he lowered his head slightly, staring intently at Perry. 

Perry was about to to open his mouth and explain, in a clear and coherent way, somehow, that he could not be his bodyguard. Because Perry wasn't the prince. Because the prince was dead. His brother was dead. 

"Your Highness." A third voice, soft and feminine, interrupted them. "You are cordially invited to join the King and Queen to break fast."

The petite woman in blue and silver who was bowing a respectable distance away had to be one of the people who'd helped the Master of Ceremonies during the celebration. 

"I… of course," Perry answered numbly. Perry waited for the woman to move and lead the way, but she stayed put. He started to panic. "Uh, after you."

The woman shifted slightly to the side and even though she had her head bowed, Perry thought he saw her eyes widen. His panic grew and his palms started to sweat. Even the guard seemed to be looking at him strangely.

Had he done something wrong already?

"Your Highness, if I may?" The green-eyed man interjected. 

"Go ahead," Perry said when he realized the man was waiting for an actual answer and not for Perry to simply stand there, silently panicking. 

"Perhaps your esteemed Royal Guard should go first and clear the way." He tilted his head toward the guard in question. "And I will follow closely behind you."

Great. He was going to be shadowed by a man who probably thought he'd seen Perry naked. On the bright side, he didn't have to pretend he knew where he was going. 

Perry nodded to the guard, trying to come up with some scrap of royal composure. "You heard him."

The guard bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."

Perry tried not to wince. It wasn't even his first day as a fake prince and already he couldn't stand hearing the title. 

He glanced down at himself and wondered if he was too underdressed for the occasion. Then he thought of the alternatives waiting inside and decided he would rather violate some other etiquette rule than change into any of those clothes. 

As they made their way down the hallway, Perry couldn't shake the awareness of the green-eyed man walking a few steps behind him. It made him uncomfortable. Would he really have no more control over his own life? Or who he chose to keep close by?

Perry did his best to keep his posture as straight as possible, but he couldn't help but let his eyes drift every now and then. 

Portraits and statues framed the halls, some shimmering and sparkling - a miniature tree that looked like it was made entirely of gold had a pair of golden squirrels that continuously ran up and down its trunk, happily chasing each other -, but compared to that first glimpse he'd had of the Palace when Master Rennin had 'escorted' him through the front gates, it all looked… normal. 

The stone walls were elegantly built, sure, but he didn't spot a single floating structure. Or a light bridge. Was that something reserved only for special occasions or specific parts of the Palace he wasn't allowed to see? 

Perry felt hopelessly in over his head and didn't realize he'd slowed his steps until a gentle hand lightly touched one of his elbows. Perry jerked away from the contact and hurried forward, gritting his teeth in annoyance. 

It seemed even how fast or how slow he'd walk would be controlled from now on. 

The smell of freshly baked bread and something warm and sweet made Perry's stomach grumble embarrassingly loud. And when they finally made their way out onto a terrace where the King and Queen sat at a table almost overflowing with food, Perry had to hold back from grabbing a handful of grapes and shoving them all at once into his mouth. 

"His Royal Highness, the First Prince Cassian," a man, wearing the same blue and silver uniform as the messenger who'd come to summon Perry, announced. 

The King paused with a gold cup halfway to his lips and smiled at him. The Queen simply looked at him impassively, her expression completely neutral, as if she hadn't been crying her eyes out a few hours ago over the loss of her son. 

Perry blanked out when it hit him that the King had absolutely no idea that his own wife had switched his real son for an imposter. Or that his son was dead. 

Perry would have to pull off pretending to be the First Prince not just for nobles, Clan Leaders, and whoever else, but also to the prince's father. The King. 

"Is everything alright?" The King asked.

The King. The prince's father. Perry's father. 

His breathing hitched and his heart started a steady march toward panic at that realization. Which, to be fair, he should have considered sooner. 

"Bow your head," a low whisper, too low to be heard by anyone other than Perry, snapped him out of his panic. 

Perry obeyed and tried to plaster on a smile. He wasn't very sure he succeeded. 

"Yes," he answered, clearing his throat. "Long night." 

The King's smile widened and he gestured to the seat opposite him. "I am glad you are enjoying your celebrations and that the news yesterday did not spoil your good mood."

Perry walked toward the fancy and heavy-looking chair and hesitated. Should he pull it out and sit, or wait for someone to do it for him? How come the Queen and the Clan Leader hadn't bothered to explain any of this very important etiquette stuff to him?

"Allow me, Your Highness." That low whisper again. 

Perry turned and came face-to-face with the green-eyed man - at some point, he should probably ask him what his name was - who'd pulled out the solid wooden chair as if it weighed nothing and gestured for Perry to sit. Perry did and stared out at the assortment of eating utensils laid out in front of him. Some of which looked they weren't even meant to be held with your hands. 

"I do not believe we have been introduced yet." The Queen's voice scrapped at Perry's ears but he forced himself to peek at the King and copy whatever he did. 

Since he seemed content to pick at his food with his own hands, Perry did the same. He took a bite of a still-warm roll of bread and closed his eyes at the soft texture and sweetness of the dough. 

"Indeed, we have not," the green-eyed man answered the Queen. 

He stood behind Perry, slightly to his left, both hands behind his back. 

When it became very clear he had no intention of saying anything else, the Queen added, "Are you going to introduce yourself or would you like me to start guessing names?"

"If my prince wishes for my name to be known, he will do so," the man said.

Perry almost choked on his second bite of bread and covered his mouth to keep from spitting out his food. 

Perry gestured with his free hand to the green-eyed man. "You can introduce yourself," he rasped, washing down the rest of the bread with a glass of water. 

"As you wish, Your Highness." Irritation niggled at Perry, but he did his best to ignore it and went for another bread-roll. "I am called Malrik the Fifth, the First Prince's bodyguard."

The name jolted something inside of Perry, a sharp and quick pain, like a thin needle poking his heart. He inhaled sharply and let out a cough to try and cover it up. 

"Appointed by whom?" The Queen asked, her voice sharp with an unspoken threat. 

Perry cleared his throat. "Me."

The Queen snapped her attention to him and he forced himself to hold her gaze. The unspoken words hung between them. 

"I see." The Queen finally broke eye contact and appraised Perry's so-called bodyguard. "And where did you come from to be called the Fifth of anything? You do not look as if you are from our kingdom."

"Indeed, I am not. I come from the south, a long way past your borders and the desert. The Fifth is something of a joke between me and my siblings." 

At the mention of the desert, the Queen's hand tightened around her golden goblet. 

"Do you come from a large family, then?" The King asked, seeming completely at ease and oblivious to the tension brewing right next to him. 

Perry glanced at the green-eyed man - Malrik - and watched as he smirked lightly. "Yes, quite large. There are currently eight of us, though there were originally nine. Sadly, one of us has been missing for quite some time."

The King nodded solemnly. "I hope you find your sibling soon. Losing family is a pain that cannot be properly described."

Oh, the irony.

Perry couldn't help but feel a stab of remorse for the part he was playing in all these lies. Even though he was a King, he was also a father who'd just lost his real son and had no idea. 

And there sat Perry, occupying a seat that was never meant to be his and lying to this man. 

"My sincerest apologies for my lateness," a voice that made chills run up and down Perry's body, called out. "I was delayed."

Perry's chest throbbed with the fantom feel of a needle being dragged over his skin as Clan Leader Long Beard stepped out onto the terrace.