crown [C. TARTAGLIA]

03

it was quiet for once.

the only sound you heard was the scribbles that came from the prince's quill as he signed some papers on top of the desk. there were a hefty amount of them, you were surprised that he was able to stay still through all that.

you were behind him as your eyes scanned his office, boredom consuming you as you tapped your feet against the carpeted floor.

it had been a couple of hours since you were freed from the cell with childe, it had also been a couple of hours since you've been assigned as his royal guard.

"a... what?" you blinked, unexpecting it to be that job out of all.

"hold on, what? no!" childe immediately refused. "i don't need a guard! i can handle myself perfectly a personal guard would be useless!"

"the queen's orders, not mine." scaramouche replied. "i will lead you to your quarters where you are to change to your uniform. besides this, a weapon of your choice will also be presented there."

"what the hell? i'm not just going to work my ass off for the monarchy! and guarding the prince, of all people? i'd rather–"

"you will be compensated with ten million mora monthly."

it was as if your brain had stopped functioning at the number he just said. did you hear that correctly? was it actually ten million per month?

"really? you're sold off by mora?" childe deadpanned when he saw your expression, mouth slightly hung open.

"not everyone is as rich as you are." you glared at him. "well, what choice do i have?" you placed your hands on your hips, smiling triumphantly. "looks like you really need me so then be it."

"unbelievable." the ginger shook his head in disbelief.

"looks like we've made a deal. now then, follow me. i'll show you where you'll be staying."

and with that, you were now with childe at his office watching him work. you were told that in some occasions, someone would actually try to assassinate the royal family in one way or another.

it was normal that people would go after the crown, so every member must have guards with them at all times. childe was the only exception however ever since ever since he was a teen, he would be off to himself and would refuse any kind of safety in his way.

as far as you were told earlier, the young prince thrived for battle. your sole reply was, "what a weirdo."

"did you say something?" he asked, a scowl imprinted on his face.

he must've heard what you mumbled, to which you apologized for. "sorry, didn't mean to say it out loud."

"then could you keep your mouth shut? i'm busy."

"what an attitude."

"excuse me?"

"nothing."

"just–" he sighs. "address me properly. i am royalty, you should address me in that way."

"fine, your highness. my apologies." not a hint of sincerity was in your voice. childe obviously noticed this but chose to ignore it and went back to signing on his desk.

you already knew you weren't going to get along with him from the start, but you had to agree to the job since it was either you rot in a jail cell for god knows how long or get payed a huge amount of mora every month.

"i was wondering, you didn't even hesitate on getting the job." childe spoke but he didn't look up from the work he was doing. "you won't be able to leave the palace for a month. you sure your family would be okay with that?"