The Unseen Prince

Lingering thoughts

silence.

That's all. Two men, two backgrounds, two gazes reaching out to one other for nothing more than time to process. Red clashes with green, one of royalty the other of poverty yet feel eerily the same.

"Promise Razor... Promise.. no one will... Bennet won't.... don't tell anyone, yes?", The prince asked with a concerned gaze directed towards the wide-eyed farmer. Razor wished for nothing more than a friend on the outside, someone he hoped would look at him for his character not his title and how he should live due to that title. On the other hand, there now stood the poor farmer boy who had just been disrespectfully conversing with royalty- not to mention he was the first to see the face of the faceless prince outside of the castle. Bennett was quite literally speechless with no clue as to how to start or more so which one of his thousands of questions would he and should he start with-"O..Of course......" and he's asleep. 

Bennett blinked out of the surging rivers of thoughts and questions he was faced with only to be met by his precious ruby gaze to be gone, for that gaze was now fixated on dreams of woods and wolves oddly enough. The farmer boy took a minute to process the fact that the Prince himself was sleeping on his wooden floor rather than the bed that was right behind where he sat. A chuckle escaped the lips of the farmer as he stood from his desk, removing his goggles and setting them down before he went to further inspect the sleeping individual. Bennett took one step and instantly felt regret when the painful sound of a snap shook the wooden floor, slowly opening an eye that had closed on the impact of a foot falling through one of the wooden floorboards. Bennett sighed wiggling his foot out of the hole in the floor and quietly stepped to the side of the hole.

Fortunately, the resting prince had been deeply invested in his memory-filled dreams, not hearing nor feeling the impact of wood breaking near inches away from his head. He was relieved that he hadn't woken up Razor since he didn't want his bad luck to cost him a chance with the prince to be friends since his family could really use the benefits of being his friend, it's not like he genuinely liked the royal... right? After all, it's the queen's fault that his family was in their predicament and basically the entire village. No matter the number of insults he muttered under his breath about the rulers of Krouvarid, he couldn't bring himself to hate this boy or the feeling he got when he saw those eyes, that small smile, his strange hair and..... 'who cares', 'It's only his looks, I can look past that to see his true colors.... right?', His attempts at hating the prince was tiring so he simply put it behind him and climbed into bed. Bennett admittedly was glad to have someone who was willing to be friends with him no matter what or at least until he found out about his bad luck- nonetheless it made him feel both lucky and guilty for leaving him on the floor.

Not too long after guilt had bubbled up in Bennett's chest he stood back up and gently retrieved the resting Prince from the floor, setting him on one half of the bed while he crawled onto the other half of the bed opposite from him. The farmer didn't want to ruin things between them so he shut up and went to bed, ignoring the growing urge to glace over at the boy again.

.

.

.

That morning only one body was left in the bed due to the body of the prince now being halfway down the path back home. Razor knew the format of the kingdom and the patrol schedule of most guards around the entrances... definitely not because he had been studying the best routes for when he wanted to escape from the castle life every now and then. The prince successfully infiltrated his own home and had received a few gentle pats on the head for doing so well by Lisa- wait. Yep, he landed himself in the gentle grasps of his mother who wasn't the happiest with his escape the day prior.  "Welcome home my sweetie, I've already apologized to Noelle for having to burden the lie of my dear son.", Lisa calmly said as she escorted Razor to his room. "Oh? Well..... How find out?", He asked with a nervous chuckle to which Lisa simply scoffed, gently ushering the prince into his room. "Noelle broke down after I asked where you were for a special training lesson today, once I asked your mother she threatened to send guards out to look for you..... I figured you were just dozing around somewhere so I told her I found you sleeping in the library last night. Now, stay in here until your afternoon training commences- and no, you cannot leave until then..... I hate to do this, Love you.", Razor heard before the gentle click of the door being locked behind him interrupted his attempt to protest.

The young prince had the sight of emerald eyes implanted in his mind... only hearing the voice of that boy from the night prior. He was pulled out of his confusing thoughts by the door opening up after being unlocked. He looked over at the familiar face of a popular doctor in the kingdom who was known for her healing capabilities and occasionally performances around  Krouvarid, Barbara. He nodded with a toothy green at the girl's appearance, saving him from his draining thoughts. "Teeth as sharp as always, eh? I was informed by miss Noelle that a certain mischievous prince had earned more scars- I know you can be more careful than you are during training so I'll just patch you up a bit before this afternoon which I will be visiting again once you finish today's training.", She explained in her soft but strict tone. Razor understood she only wanted what was best for his health so he knew the big words probably weren't insults directed towards him. 

Barbara slightly skipped on her way over to the bed, standing idle waiting for the boy to lift up his shirt. Though embarrassed of his scarred body per usual he still slipped off his shirt to give the woman room to work. She wore a pitiful smile as she immediately got to work on carefully accessing the state of his wounds and scars whereas Razor quietly sat still. Soft cloth bandages were retrieved from a bag the doctor had brought with her along with the best ointment she had supplied to her from a peculiar foreign man who worked in medicine with his daughter. Barbara leaned into the silent individual's ear whispering a small warning, "This is going to be cold, okay?... Hold still for me" Razor immediately tensed up as soon as the cool sensation hit his skin. The doctor let out a light-hearted laugh followed up by an apology simultaneously continuing her work. She gently wrapped up a significant amount of his chest and explained that they regularly needed to be changed to avoid an infection.

Razor turned to thank Barbara but when he scanned the room for her she had already left, leaving some medication and bandages in a basket for him that she left at the door. He was a bit hurt by this but understood that small talk was difficult for people when it came to the faceless prince. He stood up from his spot on the bed and took a small stroll around the bedroom he had grown tired of, lowly growling in annoyance. Not only was his mind occupied with thoughts about that boy lingering around but also the blurry memories that occasionally pop up were becoming a pain not to mention the muffled voices that came with them. The prince stopped in his tracks when the creaking of a door followed by a familiar voice called for him. "Razor dear, time for combat training."

.

.

.

Razor desperately swung his sword at the male resulting in it simply being pushed to the side by him. The prince was struggling to focus on his training partner and that resulting in an unpleasant strike to the chest. Though he uses a grand claymore, his weight very much differed from said sword. While most struggled with even lifting the sword made for him it does come as a surprise that the prince is light even compared to the weight of a normal male his age so how he lifts such a weapon makes people worried even there. After all, he had trained with increasingly heavier swords every year of his life as Lisa had kindly requested since she believes, "If one can learn to balance between their body and weapon then they are still far from handling the weapon their body becomes with a vision balanced with the sanity of their mind.... only then will one truly start to harness the full extent of their power" Long story short his sword gets heavier by a few pounds so the whiplash of a final blow lifts him off of the ground due to said weight. Due to this strict training and the help of some odd natural instinct, he has increasingly become more and more agile over time.

Today was different. His mind was far from calm with the exceeding inflow of thoughts slipping in and out leading to his allowing to be struck in a vulnerable spot. Razor refused to back down, simply growing in response and grabbing his weapon. He quietly repositioned his feet, shifting all the weight from a swore ankle to his other foot. A few rounds of close calls and injuries to both parties soon ended when Razor had swung for the other male's neck, stopping midway to allow him to back down. The prince took a few deep breaths before exiting the training grounds focused on one thing, 'that ointment...... miss barbara.. hate injured Razor..... but need it. Bad.'

'It burns...'

-

-

-

//Hi! Today I was drained of ideas so this one came out a bit late, I apologize

love ya//