Cyrus Anders
Cyrus grabbed the bread off of Jorge’s plate, laughing as his friend snatched it out of his hands. They weren’t technically supposed to be eating together. Jorge was supposed to be with the other knights, and Cyrus was supposed to be eating in the servant’s cafeteria, but neither of them really cared.
“¡Detiene robar mi comida!” Jorge whisper-shouted before leaning against the wall behind him.
They were sitting in the old maintenance shed that they had been going to since Jorge had met back up with him when they were sixteen. Cyrus leaving at thirteen had caused a rift between them, but they had grown close again when his friend came to the castle as well at sixteen, along with all the other incoming knights that year.
Cyrus laughed at Jorge’s reaction to his annoying antics. They both knew that neither of them took the offense very seriously. They had been joking like this since they were kids and still rolled around in the dirt for fun. Much to the great dismay of both of their respective parents.
They smiled at each other as they took a couple more bites of their meals. Cyrus, a sandwich with corn and peaches. Jorge a plate of spaghetti with meat sauce and a salad with garlic bread on the side.
Cyrus wiped his lips with the napkin at the side of his plate. He didn’t Cye much about his appearance when he was just around his friends, but he still didn’t like the feeling of food settling on his skin. It always bugged him, part of why he had always hated dish duty with an absolute passion.
He took another bite and set down his plate because it was his last one. His stomach was full from the three meals that day, and Jorge still had to finish his bread. He smiled again at his friend.
“¿Como tu pensar los nuevos empleados van a ser?” Jorge asked as he finished chewing his last bite.
“Igual que todos años. Solo eres afortunado solo necesitas ocuparte de personas dieciséis años o mayor que. Creo que escuché que unos niños de diez años se unieron al Programa de Siervos este año. Yo no lo hice me doy cuenta de cómo era una amenaza cuando tenía trece años hasta ahora. Tengo que ocuparme de mis copiares pequeños todos los días.” Cyrus looked over at his friend, remembering that fact.
The new recruits for the Knight Program and the Servants Program, as well as a few others, would be arriving within the next few weeks. Cyrus was just dreading the days they would all arrive.
Truly, it had to be his least favorite part of the year for the past five years, without fail. It was full of work and training newbies and other hated parts of his job. Ugh, it was the worst, no matter what.
Jorge laughed, “Sí solo podría haber Cyrus pequeño corriendo alrededor y hizo caos en el castillo.”
“No se como yo no lo hice conseguir matarse de los siervos viejos.” Cyrus joked along with the idea.
“Tal vez ellos pensaron que tus mejillas regordetas eran lindas.” He reached up to squeeze his friend 's cheeks.
“Tenía trece años, no tenía mejillas regordetas.” He huffed.
“Tu aun tienes mejillas regordetas.” Jorge raised an eyebrow as he said this, challenging the other’s point.
Cyrus just huffed again. Still, he reached up to his jaw to make sure that there was still the sharp curve there that he had noticed develop over the past couple of years. He internally sighed in relief when it was there. He was eighteen, and he wanted to look like it after spending far too many years of his youth looking years younger than he ever actually was. He was always mistaken as a ten year old, even when he was a teenager.
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Assassination
Fanfiction"What are you doing here?" He asked her, an earnest look on his face. "Servants aren't supposed to be at the ball unless they're serving food." "Well, you don't seem to be serving food either." She snapped back at him, trying to deflect the situatio...
