duty. (boyxboy)

chapter 1.

On the morning of prince Forven's sixteenth birthday, nobody seemed to stand still. When he was woken up at 6:30 sharp, five people were already standing in his room. Three maids were walking in and out, doing God knows what. They were all quiet, but Forven could feel the buzz of excitement in the air. After all, it wasn't every day that the crown prince turned sixteen.

"Good morning your highness, time to get up!" Ida, his little brother and sister's governess, excitedly said while she pulled up the curtains of his room. The sunlight blinded Forven for a moment before his eyes ajusted to it.

Now that he looked around his room, he saw that his sister Mhyrr was there as well, smiling at him from next to his fireplace. She was a very quiet kid so Forven didn't mind her standing there. He yawned and scratched the back of his head. "How many people did you say were coming again?" He asked, not really looking forward to the party. The first half of the evening he would have to shake nearly a hundred ministers' hands, accept their birthday wishes with a forced smile. The second half his parents would more or less force him to dance with all the girls they deemed possible future queens.

"Two hundred, give or take." Forven cursed silently. He used to like his birthday, he got to open presents and invite whoever he wanted to. Now, however, as he was getting older, he got more responsibilities and he had to keep up his family name. It was something he knew he had to do but wished he didn't.

He stayed in bed sulking for ten more minutes until Ida decided she'd had enough and she flicked him on the forehead. "Oh get up, stop feeling sorry for yourself." He faked an angry voice while getting up. The moment his feet touched the floor two chambermaids hurried to his side to hold up his dressing gown.

"How dare you speak to me like that? I am the crown prince!" Ida squeezed his cheeks. "And you're also a big baby. Get up." If any other member of the staff dared to speak to the crown prince in that manner, his father would make sure of it they were fired before they could apologise. Ida, however, had been at the palace ever since Forven was born and was one of his closest friends at court.

Sighing, Forven put on his dressing gown and walked towards the center of the room, where he knew he would be dressed appropriately. In all honesty: he hated this. Apparently members of the royal family were incapable of putting on their own clothes. He had long accepted it though, as he didn't want to upset his parents.

The maids walked into the room again, carrying Forven's clothes and followed by the two men who would be dressing him. Forven started to unbutton his nightgown, but when he noticed his room was still full of people he stopped and turned around.

"Just because it's my birthday doesn't mean I need you all to watch me undress."

All eyes were suddenly pointed downwards and the maids were already starting to leave. Ida and Mhyrr were the last ones in his room. Mhyrr was still standing next to the fireplace.

"Come on love, let's get you in your dress too, yeah? Make you look very pretty today." She didn't say anything but grabbed Ida's outstretched hand and followed her outside. Mhyrr didn't talk much, she never had. Everyone just assumed she was very shy.

"Happy birthday my beautiful boy!" The queen exclaimed when Forven entered the ballroom. There, his father was discussing who-knows-what with somebody from the staff, tapping his foot on the ground as he always did when he was irritated.

At least thirty people were walking in and out of the room, getting it ready for the evening. Some people were carrying big bouquets of white lillies and pink dahlias, Forven's favourite flowers. Others were decorating the ballroom or putting the musical instruments in place.

"Good morning, mum," Forven said, "good morning dad." The king looked up briefly when he heard Forven's voice. He decided that whatever he was discussing could wait a few more minutes and walked over to him and the queen. "Happy birthday son." He patted Forven on the back and squeezed his shoulder a bit too tightly. His father didn't like physical contact, so he avoided hugging anybody wherever he could. Good thing Forven didn't like hugging his father very much. "You're starting to look more like a king every day. One day it'll be you sitting upon the throne!" The king announced, a proud look on his face. Forven winced, but he wasn't sure if it was his shoulder hurting or his head.

With every minute passing until the first guests arrived, Forven's desire to sink into a hole in the ground and bury himself alive grew bigger; it would be less torturous than having to stand still for well over an hour, force a smile and make small talk with about every person who had some kind of high position in the kingdom. But alas, he had no choice unless he wanted to bring shame upon his family or, as his father always delightfully worded it, 'be a disgrace to the family and to the house of Nerileth', so he swallowed his self-pity and took his place in the ballroom, just in time for the first guests, his aunt and uncle, duke and duchess of Taland, to be announced.

She was wearing a lavender dress with golden accents, he had a matching handkerchief in his chest pocket. They were good people: Forven actually looked forward to speaking them again. "Welcome, aunt and uncle. It's lovely to see you again," Forven genuinely smiled and shook both of their hands, noticing his aunt's baby bump which widened his smile. "And congratulations, I see." The duchess caressed Forven's cheek. "Thank you my love. Have a great birthday."

Forven watched how they walked away to his parents to congratulate them, then looked at the big doors through which another aunt and uncle were walking. He didn't quite recognise their faces.

When everyone had been announced and all birthday whishes had been conveyed, it was time to dance. Forven wasn't quite sure if he dreaded or looked forward to it, as he liked dancing but not with random girls his parents picked out for him. He was sixteen, for God's sake, why did he have to think about meeting his potential future wife? "To ensure that there will be a healthy heir to the throne as quickly as possible," his mother had told him once when he asked about it, a sympathetic look in her eyes. Producing an heir was the last thing he wanted to think about.

His mother knew him better than his father, and she knew that Forven wanted nothing more than to please his father but he also didn't want to marry just yet. She had assured him he wouldn't have to marry until he was eighteen, although Forven thought that by that time he was still too young to do so.

"Her highness, archduchess Maethild of Pelduin."

"Her highness, countess Yla of Danthaven."

"Her royal highness, princess Aywin of Ithrándar."

All eyes were on the princess when it was her turn to dance with Forven. And with good reason. She was one of the most beautiful girls Forven had ever seen. Her hair was so dark brown that it appeared to be black until light shone upon it. The dress she was wearing seemed to float around her, with the way she moved to delicately around the room. Her corset was laced to the point were Forven was seriously wondering how she was still breathing, but she looked gorgeous nontheless. Everybody was in awe of her beauty and Forven was no exception. She smiled and blushed when Forven kissed her hand.

They danced, slowly and gracefully, well aware of the fact that all eyes were on them until Forven momentarily let go of Aywin's hand to let everybody know that they could start dancing as well, quickly filling the ballroom with beautiful twirling dresses. It was truly a sight, one that Forven couldn't get enought of. Perhaps he liked watching people dance even more than dancing himself.

When the dance was over Forven stuck by Aywin's side, much to his parents' delight. She introduced him to her family again: her parents, archduke and duchess of Ithrándar, her oldest brother Jonas and his wife Meriel, the king and queen of Ithrándar, and her youngest brother Alre, second in line for the throne.

"Very nice to meet you your highness, I've heard alot about you back home in Ithrándar." Forven shook Alre's hand. He had a firm handshake which Forven appreciated.

"Oh, like what?" He asked, grinning. This surprised Alre, as he hadn't expected Forven to keep talking to him. After all, it was his sister that his parents were keen on introducing to the prince, not him.

"That you throw excellent parties." Alre smiled at Forven and he smiled back. Forven liked his confidence. He looked Alre in the eyes briefly before speaking up again.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, please help yourself to anything you need," he said with a hint of mischief in his eyes before he turned towards the rest of Alre's family and continued: "I'm afraid I'll have to go and meet my other guests before they start thinking I favour you over them. Please enjoy the rest of the party." He smiled brightly and kissed Aywin's hand again, who started blushing like crazy. Alre watched him walk away and shook his head. This guy was something else.