Touch His Heart

Prologue: Wish Upon a Flower

The young heir of the Howard duchy was a rather prominent figure in not only Wysteria, but also in its neighbouring countries. Quiet and elusive, Louis Howard was well-known not only for his sheer intelligence and eloquence in relation to both his duchy and other palace-related matters, but also his graceful conduct and mystifying physical appearance. Calm and composed, he betrayed no sign of fatigue or strain as he fluidly fulfilled his duties, his neat blond hair falling close to his beautiful blue hues over chiselled features, not quite covering the single black mole dotted on the left side of his face. However, as much as he was prominent for his excellence in his work and his otherworldly appearance and elegance, he was perceived by most to be cold and distant. To most, he was cordial at best, never going out his way to communicate more than he deemed necessary, and while he was quiet, it did not quite mean he was passive, as demonstrated by the sharp remarks that he, without any hesitation, sent piercing through the room like shards made of frost more often than not.

The problem... was that too many thought that all those aforementioned facts were all he was. And they could not have been more wrong, for the true Louis Howard was incredibly more than refined features, cold words, or natural elegance. And was doubtlessly more than the 'ice sculpture' that nobility and palace staff alike sneered and described him to be when his back was turned.

"If he were an ice sculpture, then tell me this."

A calm and collected voice cut through the jeers and laughs like a slice of wind.

"Does an ice sculpture have a warm heart that is abundant in kindness?"

One way or another, nine particular men had all conveyed the exact same thought, be it upon overhearing cruel gossip or being on the receiving end of such ridiculous, ignorant remarks. These nine people were also nine of the only people that Louis sincerely trusted and unveiled the softer side of himself towards, nine of the only people that he admitted in his heart to be true friends even in a world as cruel as this world of politics, lies and nobility. Sitting at the edge of his bed in the guest bedroom in the Wysterian palace, Louis carefully unbuttoned and removed his violet vest, the dim lamps illumining the room without a sound. Lowering his eyes, he reached for his dark azure jacket and took a white flower bookmark out of its pocket, and a small, wistful smile that was elusive to most curved across his lips. The wish that I made upon this flower... His thoughts trailed off into a distant silence, lonely like the soul that they belonged to, and Louis turned towards the window and gazed upon the countless stars that glistened across the night. Yet, as myriad as they may be, watching those stars alone made him feel somehow even lonelier than he already did.

Maybe... A bittersweet smile wrenched his heart a little. Maybe I'm not that far from the child I used to be after all...

Little did he know that his next intersections with the nine other boys, regardless how small or significant, would melt and thaw out the ice that had frosted over his heart... as vulnerable as it was gentle and kind.