𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧, young royals

3: Unravel

3: Unravel

Today was the sort of cloudless, crispy day.

I strolled down the trampled dirt path to class, looking out at the sun-lit garden; the shedding trees, not-so lush and enwreathed in lichens, and dirty green shrubs teeming with prickly bristles.

Summer birds were gone, days shorter and sweeter.  The woods were my favorite then.  I liked walking down needle-covered paths and the smell of wet understones and spruce, some of the small things I didn't get to enjoy quite the same back home.  Then I didn't really want to go back to the castle.

I watched as the foliage swelled and recoiled rhythmically, like heaving slow and calculated breaths, and listened as the breeze's thumb strummed on the oak strings of the saplings. Way past the tree-lining of the pathway, crickets chorused their tedious songs out in the field.

With a steady pace, I entered the main building and started on my way to class, textbooks lazily propped on my right hip.

And then, as I was nearly past the treshold, someone scurried in at the same time, ramming into me and sending both of our textbooks scattering across the floor.

First, I saw a head of damp curls, and then two brown eyes darted up to meet mine, eyes I'd started to be familiar with.  Simon.

Gracious as always, of course.

For a moment, he just stood there, brows creased and eyes shifting between me and the scatter of books and papers on the ground around us.  Then his lips crisply curverd into a frown, like always when around me, and he crouched down to gather his things.

"Watch where you're going," I remarked cooly, squatting down along him to pick up my books.

We were very close then, some mere inches apart; I could inhale his raw shower smell, his vanilla-scented shampoo and heartwood cologne like rainwater and sanderswood.

Simon scowled and glared at me with eyes of brass and gold.

"How about you watch it."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Okay, how about you—"

Before I could finish, the teacher strolled into the classroom, and we straightened up and ran behind our desks without sparing another glance at each other.

I shared a desk with a strawberry blond-haired named Henry, and his was with an olive-skinned girl, who I'd recently learned was his sister, in the row adjacent to ours.

"Good morning," said the teacher.

"Good morning, Mr. Andersson," greeted the class back in unison.

Simon peered past his shoulder at me then, but only for a moment, and as soon as our gazes locked, he turned his back to me again.

"You can sit," announced Mr. Andersson, and we dropped into our seats. "As you know, today's class is dedicated to your group presentations preparation, so pick up your books and team-up with your partners. I want your thesis and three main arguments on my desk by the end of class."

Everyone scattered across the classroom to group with their teams, and I remained planted in my seat.  Mr. Andersson walked over to my desk.

"Prince Wilhelm," he nodded at me, "since you weren't present for the project team-making, I thought you might want to join Felice's group for the presentation."

I hummed.  "Yes.  Thank you."

"Perfect.  I trust that they'll catch you up with everything you need to know," uttered Mr. Andersson, flashing a polite smile before heading back to his desk.