Soldier, Poet- King.

Chapter 1: The Boy and His Buddy, William

As Evan finishes getting ready for the day, a light knock can be heard on the door.

"You can come in," Evan would state, making his way over to the balcony side of the room.

In through the door enters a petite, older lady. She spoke in a comforting tone.

"Good morning my prince. I don't mean to interrupt, but I would like to remind you of the day." The woman would infer, placing a hand over her chest and bowing before him with her head down and eyes closed.

Evan would smile at her. "I told you Charlotte, You can call me Evan. No need for all of that formal stuff."

The lady—now known as Charlotte, would nod. "Yes, of course." A moment of silence would occur as the two stand there.

"Well, what's on the agenda today then? Anything of interest?" Evan would break the silence. "My parents gone today?" he asked.

The little lady would just nod her head.

"Alright, well—Did you need any help with preparations for today? Certainly, I can do something—"

Charlotte would furrow her eyebrows. "Oh don't be silly, Dear. You've done quite a lot already." she would imply.

"Hmm, Alright. But If you need anything, let me know." Evan would give Charlotte a warm smile, Charlotte returning it to him.

Charlotte would look around the room before heading back over to the door and lightly closing it behind her as she exited. After that, Evan would turn his attention towards the balcony, stepping out the door and resting himself on the barricades.

The view from the balcony was astonishing. The bright sun glazed over the shore and sand with no clouds in sight, and the village was uplifting with music and laughter that you couldn't quite understand from all the way up in the castle window.

Evan always found himself gazing at the ocean and beachside the most. It was so calming to close his eyes and listen to the birds and waves; the wind blowing just enough to cool him down from the warmth of the sun. Everything was so peaceful. For a little while, time stopped moving.

Until something over by the docks caught his eye. It was hard to make out exactly who it was, but something drew Evan's eyes to a person arriving to shore from the docks.

"I guess it's time for me to face today. Alright. Let's go." He would pick himself up and eventually leave his room with his fancy crown on his head and a satchel crossed over his chest.

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Throughout the hall, Evan would slowly angle his head lower at the sight of the murals and photographs on the walls. Each was intriguing and unique in its own way. Whether it be a group photo of certain ancestors, a portrait of the king or even just a message dear to the hearts of the family.

At the end of the hallway, there laid a huge picture frame. In it, there was a painting of the following: The king, his son (around the age of five or so) and a dark print of a woman sat next to them. The woman in the mural was smiling, her bright eyes shining with the same priceless, diamond blue that Evan so graciously represented. She looked so lively, so free. This was Evan's mother.

Now looking up at the painting at the end of the hallway, Evan would ever so slightly grin.

"Today—Today is going to be a good day," he would whisper mercifully.

And with that, the young man would turn his body to face the stairwell, and let himself be engulfed in the outside world.

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