Ruins

His royal majesty

The prince was in a fit. Never had such an outright demeanor of disobedience occurred in his kingdom. No one, not in his father's reign, nor his, had dared to publicly display rebellious thoughts like that son of a bitch.

That morning, another pathetic servant had woken him up, only for him to bear the news on the escape of the most wanted prisoner, kept isolated in well-guarded cells with a bunch of sneaky alarms. Who'd successfully deported the palace in one of the prince's very own private Boeing CH-47 Chinook helicopters? Or that's what the rumors told. One could never believe these stories, especially considering that the prince didn't own those antique models.

For the unpleasant delivery of news, execution awaited the servant. Such underrated people didn't deserve to live.

Though his men would catch the captive, the prisoner had still gotten away. That, in fact, did very little to the reputation of Nacery Praetel.

The diminutive, shackled territory converted into a suitably dignified kingdom by his (exclusively) great grandfather. Nacery Praetel.

Thanks to his access to various sources, the prince had found out that a certain 'Macholm' was spotted along with an unidentified person (probably the prisoner) and could as well be responsible for the escapee's triumph. His highly advanced access to technology reported that it was the same boy he'd sacked recently. It didn't need a professor to make the connection; an ex-errand boy had aided in the escape of the most secured and valuable prisoner. Disobeyed direct orders from the royal PRINCE. Screw him.

The prince inhaled a deep breath– scented with the regular vanilla of his quarters. With a sudden jolt of anger, he seized an ornamented vase and hauled it at the wall. The second the delicate urn contacted the solid wall, the high pressure of the throw splintered it into millions of shares of ceramic. Jagged shards of the decimated vase rose haphazardly from the thick, velvety red rug. For some reason, this always helped to ease his fury and dismay. Plus, this was fun.

His private quarters were a mix of red, cobalt, violet, jade, or gray– the royal colours– thinned into nonexistence. His diabolical mind crafted a situation where he'd face the traitor servant and clasp his hand on his neck. The prince could almost feel Macholm's pulse throbbing uncontrollably under his palms.

The room shifted back into focus. The drab curtains danced in the gentle breeze coming from the windows. Dozens of sheets of paper covered in ink scribbling still lay scattered on the work table. The useless paintings on the wall with comingled colours and the shelves of books spread out incessantly. The only thing that truly belonged to the prince was the scribbled sheets of paper. Everything, every ill-gotten piece of furniture or unnecessary decor, was acquired via the royal treasury. Meaning, his father had technically brought his everything– his body spray to his ever-present sword hung limply, unsheathed at some incidents.

He tried to stop thinking about stuff that angered him. Apparently, he sucked at that.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Even before the prince could deny the permission to enter his room, the door swung open, revealing a man in his late forties. The old chap had an otherwise bald scalp except for the tuft of hair encompassing the shaved center, the handful which had grayed over the years. His gray beard sported underneath his nearly faded jawline, and his old amber eyes glinted with experience. The crown, sash, and the not-so-fit belly jutting out his midsection, brutally assassinated any humility his old looks gave him. As usual, he had a tight curve set at the edge of his mouth, which mostly happened when the duo met.

The prince didn't give a damn about the man– the big jewel on his head was what caught his rapt attention. Filigreed carving traversed over the polished, golden metal, with two big, fat rubies bulging out on each side. In the center lay the heaviest of the gemstones– a beautiful combination of emerald and topaz (Yellow, to be exact) enmeshed together– shone brightly and smugly. Little gems of jade, golden and cardinal, flanked the crown, shimmering when a sudden gleam of light caught their eye.