Kk is for killing. The burden of being a soldier is the killing and having the blood of people you don't know on your hands, on your sword, your blade that you spent months practicing with.
I'm cleaning my sword, washing and washing and washing it again until my hands are drenched and look like dried out prunes, washing the blade as if that's going to make the blood that once stained my blade really ever go away.
When I'm not training, I'm cleaning, and when I'm not cleaning, I'm sleeping. I have a life outside of being a soldier, but it's a mundane one. I go to war every few months, I come out alive and scarred, I train for the next war, and then it's silent for a while,
and then the cycle repeats.
Over and over again.
Somebody puts a hand on my shoulder, I spring into action, and my blade touches skin.
It's the prince.
I quickly withdraw my sword, embarrassed.
"Somebody's on edge today," he teases. Despite Danni being a prince, he doesn't act like one very often.
"Your Highness! My deepest apologies, I didn't hear you come in the room!"
"No need for formalities. It's just Danni,"
"Wanna train together?"
Sure, he goes to royal events, and he plans war action. He does trade with other kingdoms, and he puts on this big act for the public, speaking about everything good to come once the war ends, but at the end of the day?
He acts like a commoner that's never even stepped foot into a castle before.
At the end of the day, he's a 17 year old boy with too much responsibility.
