Knock... knock... knock...
"Your majesty! The sun is rising, up and at 'em!"
A small whine emitted from the jumbled mess of blankets that was the crown prince. Crimson eyes peek out at the overly cheerful servant that awaited him.
"Five more minutes?" He asks in as polite of a tone as he could possibly muster in his grumpy state.
"Apologies, sire, but I have orders from above to awaken you."
He sighs. "Okay, up, up..."
"Do you require assistance?"
"No, thank you... go away, please."
"Very well. Thirty minutes to breakfast!" And with that the cheerful servant was on his way.
The bundle of blankets was tossed aside, revealing the person underneath. He sits cross-legged, yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily. His tangled, dark green hair stuck out in all directions, and he struggled to run his fingers through it. He stands up, walking over to the closet, only to notice an outfit already set out.
"Oh, no... Something big is happening..."
He forces himself to get dressed, staring into the mirror uncomfortably. His outfit of "choice"-or rather, the King and Queen's choice- was very military-inspired. A dark blue top, with gold pads that bore tassels on his shoulders. A gold sash from his right shoulder to his left side. Pressed white slacks-Lord knows they won't last long- and the tightest black boots he has ever worn in his life.
He could hear the announcement already, and he dreaded having to leave the comfort and safety of the palace.
"Imagine," he giggles, brushing out his tangled curls as best as he could. "time to introduce. 'Ladies and gentlemen, Prince Gonta Gokuhara!'" He deepened his voices for the "announcment", and he burst into laughter.
"Gonta! Breakfast!"
"Coming, Mama!" Gonta tied back his hair with his usual white ribbon and, after a moment's thinking, threw off his boots before dashing to the dining hall.
"Gonta, how many times do you need to be told? A gentleman does not run in the palace. And where are your shoes?"
"Sorry, Mama. Shoes uncomfortable. Too tight. Gonta wear them later."
The woman sighs, staring at her son. A stare Gonta reconized all too well.
She was disappointed.
Gonta sat down,regaining his gentlemanly composure as he begins to eat.
'Small bites,' he thinks, 'gentleman does not stuff his face.' He listens to his parents, drifting in and out of the conversation. It was never interesting, anyway. Just kingdom policies, failed attempts to betroth him, long and boring balls he never wanted to attend, let alone dance at. The only prince thing he had a grip on is how to be a gentleman. Politics, dancing, things like that were difficult. He couldn't speak elegantly and lord knows he was too clumsy to dance.
"-around the village on his own. It will give him a chance to make a good public image for himself."
"Oh, no, dear, he isn't ready! Look at him!"
'No, no, Mama's upset. I'm doing something wrong again-'
Immediately, Gonta fixed whatever might be wrong. He sat up straighter, slowed his eating, moved his left hand to his lap. He takes a breath, trying his hardest to keep it steady.
Be calm and polite, regardless of what happens.
"With... respect, Mama, Gonta think he ready. Gonta would like to explore village on hi-"
