Since Birth By Blood

01

Ever Since Arson could remember, things never went his way. He could never go out and play with the other faerie's because he had work to do. Studying, before he could take on the crown. All he did was obey, and obey.

"Arson. go and practice your sword play"

"Arson, go inside and study."

"Arson-"

"Arson-"

He's had enough, surely this couldn't be what his life will be all about? He could always run away? He shakes his head in disdain. He's tried it before and the castle guards have always dragged him back. It was a futile effort and just to continue doing it would only waste his time.

And not to mention he was turning eighteen today. Eighteen years old. He shudders. He was an adult, which meant.... Which meant he would be meeting his betrothed at the gala tonight. He lets out a loud sigh, throwing himself back onto his bed.

"Oh, gods this is going to be the end of me!" He cries out, laying an arm across his face, taking in a few deep breaths.

There was a knock at the door, and he let out a soft puff of air. "Come in."

The door opens with a creak, and a boy walks in. He was built leanly and had small knobby horns on the top of his head. He was wearing a loose white shirt. And If Arson could see through the cart, he would have seen the bottom half of a goat and hooves for feet.

The cart is noisily pushed into the room. Arson wincing as the wheels squealed and clattered against the marble floor.

The goat-boy bows deeply and Arson smiles crookedly.

"Ello, oakley."

The boy, Oakley's head, shoots up and he smiles. "Good morning, Your Royal Highness."

Arson lets out a sigh, eyebrows furrowing together briefly. "Oakley, I thought I told you to just call me Arson.."

"But.. Your Highness-"

"We are friends, aren't we?" Arson says, tilting his head to the side.

Oakley, gapes at him for a second, before going off on a ramble. "Yes, Your Highness, but it would be improper for me to address you that way and-"

"Are you rejecting my offer of friendship?" Arson teases, sitting up and running a hand through his auburn hair.

Arson watches as Oakley's eyes widen comically and covers his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"N-no, Your Highness! I would never! I-it's just that addressing you th-that way is improper and d-disrespectful of me!"

He watches as Oakley begins to count the reasons on his fingers, blabbering on and on. It was quite the sight.

"Oakley."

The boy, having not heard him, continues to ramble.

Arson sighs, and pushes himself up from the bed, walking over to Oakley and knocking on his head three times.

The boy in question stops what he's doing, his face going slack for a second before turning to look up at the prince.

He blushes and smiles a bit sheepishly. "Sorry, Your Highness. I got lost a bit there."

Arson lips quirk up slightly at the end. "You think?" He teased, ruffling the younger boy's hair.

Oakley lets out a small nervous laugh. His face is still significantly red.

Arson picks up a small teacup, filled to the brim with black tea. He takes a sip of it and instantly recoils, having to force himself to swallow.

"Oakley!"