- I Think I've Found My Voice - (Quackbur & Karlity) -

- Our Duty -

The prince was wrapped in a dark cloak called the shadows. He trudged along the walkways, using a candle as his guide. He shivered, the hallway was cold and unforgiving.

He was searching for his crown. 

It was honestly a shock that no one had discovered it was missing. It had been weeks since its original disappearance. The only cover up he made was that it was "getting a deep cleaning", though that won't last long.

He squinted, scanning the ash-covered grounds for it. He hummed a sorrowful song. It sounded ominous, echoing throughout the almost empty hall.

The hall smelt of ash and bitter dampness, the contradicting pungent smells made the prince feel sick.
Then, he saw something sparkle. It was like a glimmer of hope in the dank darkness. Wilbur picked it up carefully, examining the shimmering object.

It was his crown. 

A gorgeous gold glowed in the dark, the candle making the colorful jewels sparkle.

Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief. Dusting his crown off, he strolled to the trap door. Though it would've been smarter to go home, he had been yearning to see the field of flowers for ages. He had no time for himself as of late. 

He pushed open the trap door, rushing wind blew against his face. It was refreshing. The sun blazed on the bright green blades of grass. The flowers danced in the breeze, weightless and free.

Wilbur walked over to his favourite tree, cleaning his crown. He sat at the base of the tree, closing his eyes and leaning back against it. With his crown in his lap, he began to hum a song of thankfulness. It was a old worship song he used to love when he went to church with his mother. 
He missed her.

Suddenly, he heard a loud thump. He tensed, sitting up straight and opening his eyes. He blinked, staring up at a laughing prince.

"Did I scare thee?" 

"What doth thee think?"

Quackity giggled, dusting off his trousers. "I was in the tree, bird watching. The prettiest ones art always out this time of year." 
He smirked, leaning against the tree.

Wilbur nodded, confused by the prince. He was so... eccentric. 

"So... I see thee hath found thy crown, Soot."
Wilbur scoffed, placing his crown on his lap. "Why doth thee always call me that? It is annoying."

Quackity grinned, reaching out his blistered hands to lightly touch his nose. Wilbur jumped, somewhat flushing. 
Quackity brandished two fingers in front of his face, displaying their now blackened tips.

"See, this is why." He chuckled. "Every time i seeth thee, thee has't soot all over your face. Doth thee liveth in soot, Prince Wilbur?" He mocked, sitting down on the other side of him.

"No, I doth not." Wilbur pouted sourly. "Mine own journey here is... covered in soot."

"What is wrong, Wilbur? Why so bitter?"

"I am..." Wilbur grimaced. "... getting married."

Quackity paused, his eyebrows quirking up. "Oh... that explains it. Doth thee know her?"

"No. But she hast been promised to me since her birth."

The prince hummed, messing with the grass in the front of him. "So, that is where thee hast been for the past couple of weeks... on dates with...?"
"Princess Salliandra."
"Of the Atlantic Kingdom? I knoweth of her family... they art really prestigious." 

Wilbur sighed. "T'is all so exhausting. There are so many people to please. So many things to doth. So many roles to playeth."

"That is our lives. As princes... crown princes. Our lineage and our kingdom depend on us." Quackity leaned back onto the tree bark, turning his head to look into the other prince's eyes. "T'is our duty."

"Marrying someone I doth not knoweth? That is mine own duty?"

"Our duty is to... doth what is best for our kingdom." He sighed. "Sadly, our happiness is not connected to our duty. Our duty is promised..." He plucked himself a flower, twirling it between his fingers. "...happiness is not."
He crushed the flower, sprinkling the debris onto the grass.

The crown prince could not reply. Mainly because he knew he was right. Their life was not made for enjoyment. Even the 'happiest day of their lives' was not happy. It was all just a contract.

"Doth thee think thee loveth her?"

Wilbur tensed, his jaw tightening. He attempted to lie. To say yes. But his hands seemed to move on their own.

"No."

Quackity was not expecting that. "And thee do not think thee ever shall?"

"No. She is not... what I want."
Wilbur shamefully shook his head, flushing. This was embarrassing to him. Princess Salliandra was gorgeous. Prince Quackity must think he was crazy.
"I have to go."

"Already?" Prince Quackity groaned, staring up at him in confusion as he stood up. "The church bell hast not even rang."

"I hast an important dinner today." Wilbur huffed, clutching onto his crown tightly. "I hast to meet mine own new guard. I shall... try and see you here tomorrow. I shall bring mine own guitar."

"Same time?"
"Yes."

Then, the prince waled away, attempting to piece his life together.

- - -

Words: 819