Lavender's Blue

Chapter 01

"Preposterous." Lotor muttered, circling his glass of wine. "Must I truly marry that dreadful child, father?" He looked up from where he was staring to look at the king.

Zarkon only raised a brow as his hand stopped midway up his mouth with a fork in between his fingers. "You chose him and he was the only one close to your age."

"Sophia's closer. So is Natalia." Lotor muttered again, this time picking at his food with his fork.

"And he is next in line to be king." The servants and solders that stood by shivered, but the booming voice of his father did nothing to deter him. Instead he continued on picking at his food like he never spoke. "And besides, you chose him." Zarkon straightened, feeling satisfied with how his son's grip on the fork tightened, his hand going still.

Lotor glared. "I was only six then, nothing but a mere child."

"And you chose well." The galran said after he swallowed his food. The sudden praise took the prince off guard - but he wouldn't let his father enjoy that pleasure. He immediately straightened his face. "We'll send out word of your engagement ball so all can attend and celebrate," He said the word with great distaste. "Get married the week after and be rid ourselves of the alteans the next day. It's simple. Just make sure that you don't mess up." His voice was stern, glaring daggers at the prince.

He had been planning this ever since Lotor was born, to take over Altea by 'uniting' them. It was just as he had said. Dark days will loom over kingdoms, they will triumph in battles and conquer lands as far as they eye could see. His plan was fool proof. It also helped that the altean prince was gullible and childish, accepting the engagement since he learned what the word meant.

"Yes, yes, I know." Lotor said with a sigh, still playing with his food.

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Outside was less gloomy, unlike the dining room. It wasn't sunny, but the grey clouds that were up hiding the sky were peaceful and merciful enough to let a few stray sun rays hit the ground. Oddly enough, it didn't seem like it would rain.

It's the weather that Cam liked the most. It wasn't sunny enough to be hot but it wasn't so cold as to wear too many layers. The wind blew softly as his ebony hair went with it, pushing it out of his face. He stood facing the wind for another moment, basket in hand and resting on his hip before going back inside.

He set down the wood from the basket by the fireplace, along with the last of the straw that he had collected into the grinding room by the small kitchen.

Where he was wasn't much, but it was enough. There were three doors on three stone walls by each other. The first door led to the inside of the Galra castle. The second on the wall by it led to the outside where the stalls were kept down the small hill.

The third door led to a room where they grinded straw to make flower for bread and cakes and tasty goods. A very small window in the far corner of the room showed the outside world where a big wooden wheel was spinning from the small lake under it.

In the kitchen were two more windows, both bigger and closer to the second door but one on the third wall and the other on the second one. The river could be seen clearer there and if you looked at your left you'd find a small shelter where wood was stacked up.

The kitchen itself wasn't much. A wooden table was in the middle of the stone room, a fireplace between the window and the door on the third wall. Cabinets were placed around it for storage of food or blankets and a drawer with a broken mirror was placed in the middle of the second wall.

It's where Cam would go in the mornings to freshen up and brush his hair, confirming he was presentable enough before leaving his small home.

Home.