Xavier hated being prince. He despised the vigorous training he had to undergo daily. He loathed learning of etiquette, mathematics, language, and worst of all croquet. The Prince abhorred the fancy shoes, jeweled cloak, and itchy white gloves he wore.
He often wished that he was a merchant's son. In this fantasy Xavier would travel around the Avanlünd Peninsula, meeting new people and discovering exotic creatures. He would receive a small amount of pocket money in archery contests wherever he went. In these contests he would sweep the crowd off their feet and be showered in roses at the end. "Encore!" The audience would yell. Afterwards, his merchant father would pat him on the back and say with a wink, "wonderful job, son!"
Xavier understood that he wouldn't care to travel, to meet new people. What he truly wished was to be appreciated. He hoped that someday his true father, the king, would look into his eyes and say the same words: "wonderful job, son."
He knew his fantasy would always stay as it was, a fantasy.
The young prince often scolded himself for wishing for a different situation. Most of his subjects would give anything to live the life he lived. When his father had told the women of the town that the handsome prince was going to marry one of them they had fainted. Xavier felt bad for the poor girl that would have to rule the kingdom alongside him till death. "Oh well," Xavier thought to himself "there is nothing I can do to stop that."
The sound of his father's booming voice woke him from his daydream. "Xavier Armando Gomera," the king commanded, "come down to the throne room at once." Xavier hurried down the grand spiral staircase. As he passed the gold-framed painting he thought of his mother and her beautiful golden hair. She had been the best queen the kingdom could imagine. She loved the poor as much as she did the nobles and visited them both often. It was too bad her rule had only lasted three years.
Opening the cedar double doors, he stepped into the throne room. It was full of people, all with their attention focused on the doorway where he stood. They bowed in unison. He hated that, the bowing, he was no better than any one of the peasants that made their way here as a tribute to a king who did nothing in return.
The attention returned to the fat man sitting on the throne, Xavier's father.
"As I was saying," a peasant continued, shaking in the presence of such a "mighty man". "We have no food, my children are starving, two have them have been taken by flu, another by a sickness I have yet to comprehend. I am sorry to accuse you, my lord, but it is you that should be held responsible for the deaths of four of my children.
Looking bored, the king waved his hand, gesturing for the crowd to disperse. The peasant, looking distraught tried to retreat.
"Peasant, stay, we have not finished your discussion! I would hate to have such an important matter be overlooked!" The king smirked, and the peasant, not realizing the danger he was in, smiled gratefully.
As people inched out of the crowded red carpet, Xavier tried to escape with them.
He winced as the familiar deep voice of his father called his name.
"My young prince, where do you think you are going!?"
"Sorry, my lord, I was only going to see if Lady Ester had arrived."
"She can wait. We have more pressing matters at hand."
The king straightened his posture and purred a command.
"My son, teach this peasant a lesson."
"But-" Xavier had feared it would come to this.
"Xavier, I am a busy man, I do not have time for your cowardice."
"Father, this is wrong you need to fixed what you have done! It is you and you alone that is responsible for the sufferings of this people! You are a-"
"Son, oh my son, stop your rambling." He hummed with a concerned tone. Xavier knew it was all fake.
The king rose from his throne and strode confidently to his son.
"You need to control your opinions, you worthless child." He slapped Xavier. The prince did not blink.
Showing fear would result in more severe punishment.
Gazing defiantly up into his father's eyes, Xavier spat venomously, "I will do no harm to the innocent!"
"How dare you!" The king's face glowed like a red ember. "You do not speak to me in such a manner."
Taking out his jeweled sword, the king barked his next command. "Kneel!"
Xavier stood taller.
With a swoosh, the king raised his sword and brought it down on his son's bicep. Crimson blood gushed from the wound, Xavier stood taller.
"Stupid child, you make me sick. Kneel or I will kill the man you seem so desperate to save."
Xavier did not doubt his father's threat.
He kneeled.
Sheathing his sword, the king raised his arm and violently swung his fist into the young prince's nose.
Xavier fell.
He lost consciousness.
***
Hours later he woke up in a heap on the ground, the peasant tending to his wounds.
"What are you doing here?!" Xavier exclaimed, "You need to get to the forest! Now! It is your only hope of survival."
Xavier tried to stand but fell back down.
"No! Please don't stand, sire!"
"Don't call me sire." Xavier winced in pain.
"My apologies, what name would you prefer?"
"Xavier. That is it"
"Why of course, Xavier."
The prince looked around. No one was there.
"Andy!" Xavier called horsely
A tall, thin boy appeared and ran to the prince's side.
"Xavier! Not again... I will get bandages... no, that won't work. Um, can you stand?" Andy looked genuinely concerned.
Was it possible the two were friends, the peasant wondered?
Xavier stood and draped his arm over Andy for support.
"Get the peasant and I to my quarters, please."
Xavier looked at Andy admiringly.
"You saved me, again. Now I owe you even more. Thank you."
.
