This chapter is brought to you by I'll Be There by SHOWNU(MONSTER X).
Edited by: bafflinghaze
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Rainier craved colors.
His earliest memories were the blue of his mama's skirt on a green field with azure skies and miles and miles of white rolling clouds, and the gold of his papa's buttons in the purple evening, surrounded by the orange-yellow glow of a campfire underneath the black night dotted with the infinite rainbow of stars.
His eyes always followed those colors like a lover following temptation.
Temptation, as Rainier knew it, only led to desire.
Dawn was a sight to behold on the first day of summer. The sky was a swirl of red, pink, orange, and yellow. The clouds painted the canvas with bold fluffy streaks of white.
As a child, Rainier often waited all night, anticipating beauty over the horizon, the leaves turning verdant green and the silvery wisp of pollen and puffs floating in the air.
His cravings for color turned into lust as he grew.
Color was life.
Vibrant and lovely on every stitch his mama ever made.
He would watch, enraptured, as she embroidered a skirt. Colors made pictures, and these pictures were the most gorgeous things his eyes would feast on.
Color was yearning.
Everyone wanted them when they saw his papa's wares.
Rainier witnessed the way men and women from all over would bid for the many fabrics his father had to offer. The shimmer of pearly white silk and metallic silver draping from his arms like a holy treasure was akin to the divine clothes worn by the gods themselves.
Color was the world and all that it could offer.
It was the soft fawn brown of a cashmere scarf in winter, the emerald jeweled eyes of a woman known as the Butcher of the Battlefield, the raven feather black hair of two brothers, the northern tundra snow locks of a sister, and the gold of a dandelion field.
Color shared hardship, pain, and joy.
It was freedom.
The hollowness of life without it was like death.
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Rainier woke up and fell out of bed.
His chest heaved with unspoken panic, breathing in labored pants. He heard Madam Vespera's war hawks screaming at the top of their lungs while one of the gardeners cursed at them.
There was a scrape near his windows, and he could already tell some of the hawks had flown up to tease the gardeners.
His bedroom was located in the West Wing servants' quarters. As one of the highest-ranked servants in the West Wing, he had no roommates and was given the tower room, which was larger than most servants' quarters and overlooked a nice view of the Western Garden.
The sun had risen into the sky, its rays splashing the ground with a warm light.
What a fine morning.
A nightmare, Madam Vespera's hawks, and a bruised back.
Rainier got ready for the day ahead.
He donned his pigeon grey uniform, adjusting the coat and buttoning the buttons with deft hands.
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The Reincarnated Villainous Young Master's Guide to Happiness
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