The Inescapable Palace

The Perfect Prince

Never let them see your pain, they'll call you weak. 

No matter how hard it may seem, never let them see you break, for afterward they will treat you like glass; like something easily destroyed.

Never let them know your true passions and desires, they'll insult you and tell you to forget such foolish things.

By them, I mean everyone.

No matter how hard it gets, don't let your emotions reveal themselves. 

This is what I tell myself every morning, looking into the flawless mirror and finding the 'perfect' man.

No one can ever truly know what I believe, or think. I am merely a protege of my father. My only job being to take over the throne. 

No more, no less.

I straightened my blouse, staring into the empty blue voids that gazed back at me in my own reflection.

Today was the day.

The day I would express my feelings.

But first, I had things to do.

***

I strode down the halls, my shoes clicking against the marble flooring. My hands brushed gently against my royal blue waistcoat, the tick of my pocket watch causing me to flinch every waking step. 

I couldn't afford to be late, especially not today.

 I passed two chambermaids, none daring enough to meet my eye. They rushed past, their heads down as they spoke amongst one another about the rumor of the treacherous person who roamed the kingdom, thriving off of thievery.

On any other day, I would have scolded them for speaking such nonsense, but not today.

I had no time to listen to foolish rumors.

I kept my pace, swiftly stepping through the lush halls, my tailcoat swaying with the cool breeze. Autumn had just arrived, giving the air a sweet maple scent as it ruffled through my smokey grey waves that were parted gently through the middle.

I arrived at a pair of double doors. The double doors.

The doors could easily be about fifteen feet high and were covered in a lattice, radiating with golden light and magic. White stone delineated the doors, its rough-hewn texture, and clean-cut edges. It is beautifully carved with runes of protection and blessings.

The doorknob was cool to the touch but warmed quickly when held. It was smooth, not gritty, and felt like it was carved of Albite. It just feels right to wrap your fingers around it. It pulsated with magic, the runes alive with a golden light.

My fingers lingered on the handle momentarily, my palm resting on it as it trembled slightly. 

With a tight squeeze of my eyelids, I grasped the handle tightly, pushing past the door as it opened without a sound.

I stepped forward, my eyes opening halfway to make myself appear unamused. The door slammed behind me with a loud thud, the door's keyhole illuminating in the dimly lit room.

"Greetings, Prince Graham," A raspy voice rang in my ears, "You're right on time."

The king of the North sat on a throne carved from the finest gold in the world, with jewels inlaid into the intricate designs and red velvet drapes that were embroidered with gold thread. The throne doesn't make any sound, but it has an audible aura, a vibration that makes your chest tighten and your teeth chatter.

Two golden lions were carved into the arms, their marble manes glistening in the dim sunlight, their eyes shining rubies the size of a child's fist. The red velvet drapes are softer and finer than any fabric you have ever had the pleasure to feel. Its gold inlay shined like the sun and caught my eye as I strolled closer.