After breakfast Zayn and I were permitted to go eat our own meal in the kitchen. It was never as lavish as the meal the royal family enjoyed, but it was still good. Zayn would comment often on how the food in the palace was much better than the food he received at the Payne Estate.
Niall greeted us when we entered. He’d come to the palace only a year after I arrived. He was a member of Ireland’s royal family and when England defeated them, he was taken as a prize. The young Irish Prince, worked as a kitchen boy for the British Royal Family. Despite that, Niall was always happy and gleeful, a smile seemed plastered to his face permanently. Unless of course, he came in contact with a member of the royal family, he didn’t particularly fancy their presence.
Like Zayn, Niall would sometimes discuss running away back to his home in Ireland, but he would also voice his fears of what he might find there, or more importantly, what he might not find.
“Aye, Harry! Zayn! What a fine morning!” Niall smiled happily.
“Morning Niall.” We replied as we walked to the little table set apart for us.
“What is he doing here?!” the harsh yell of the head cook had me jumping.
I turned to see the large man pointing a spoon at my head. He has never liked me, in fact, most of the servants at the palace never liked me. Louis has always had me treated like a prince, it gets under the skin of everyone in the palace, including the king and queen.
“It’s breakfast time Old Chap!” Niall yelled back light heartedly.
“I’ve been given orders that this boy eats at the servants table or doesn’t eat at all.” He stepped closer to me, still waving his spoon around.
“The Crowned Prince commanded I sit with him as he ate.” I said softly, keeping my head down.
“His Majesty, King Mark Tomlinson of England gave me specific direction to make sure that you only eat at the servants’ table. I believe my orders out rank yours, playmate.” He spoke the word with anger as most of the servants did.
I flinched at his hate-filled words. Everyone else was silent. He out-ranked all of us, especially with his orders coming from such a high place.
“I’ll wait while you eat Zayn.” I told him, knowing I couldn’t argue any further.
As Zayn ate I stood with Niall while he washed dishes. He hummed a light tune as he scrubbed the dishes I recognized from the breakfast table.
“Kitchen Boy!” I heard Louis’ voice echo through the kitchen followed by Liam’s laugh.
“I’m here your highness.” Niall responded, begrudgingly.
“Kitchen Boy, tell Hazza and Zayn that Liam and I…” he stopped when he walked around the corner and saw me standing with Niall.
“Hazza, why aren’t you eating?” He asked me, Liam only a few steps behind him.
I looked down to his riding boots, a habit I developed over the years. Any time I knew he wouldn’t like what I was about to say, I’d watch his feet.
“Answer me.” He spoke firmly.
“His majesty ordered that I am no longer permitted to eat in the kitchen.”
“Then where are you meant to eat?”
“At the servants table, while the royal family eats their meal.”
“You are not a servant.” Louis’ voice was very tense and he balled his hands into fists.
“I’m a slave.” I commented quietly.
