The Slave And The Prince

Chapter 1

The carriage wheels rumbled across the uneven, pebble-ridden dirt path, kicking up dust as it rolled closer and closer to our destination. The sky had just begun to set, the sun receding further back as night approached. The sunset was painted with yellows, pinks and reds that faded into harsh purples littered with white stars. The night was silent and still, all expect for the grumbles of the carriage, the pitter-patter of horses' hooves, and the occasional gust of wind or hoot of an owl.
I looked out the window, my gentle sigh being carried off by the wind that whipped by.  
"Father... Must we go now? The sun is already starting to set. It gets dangerous at night." I uttered nervously, my pitch cracking at various intervals throughout my unconvincing plead.
"Nonsense." My father snorted in reply, his voice loud and confident. The stark difference between him and myself perhaps perfectly paralleled our relationship. "If you are to secure your rightful place as King, you must fear nothing. Not mortals, not night. Not even God."
It made sense that my father was not a God-fearing man, despite the fact that our country was heavily influenced by religion. Personally, I thought he simply feared the idea of the afterlife because he was scared of where he might end up. Or perhaps it was his own sense of superiority, the idea that he and only he was the sole being in power and control of everyone else.
"Yes, sir." I averted my gaze downwards, allowing my dark hair to fall and cover my eyes, not bothering to swipe it out of the way of my sight. I rotated my thumbs in my lap nervously, hunching over as if to hide some sort of secret that my father might be able to tell if I looked him straight into the eyes. I could feel him studying me closely as a scientist would to his test subject.
I couldn't help but feel as if this trip were just a way to make me feel even worse about myself. If that were even possible. Father had said it was to strengthen me.  To turn me into a man. As if he were any sort of "man" to look up to.
“You know,” he started, “you have to be king some day. You need to learn discipline, mercilessness. This is just my way of going about it.” His face appeared somewhat empathetic, but I knew better than to trust him.
I sneered in return. “You know nothing about being ruler, you know that?”
“Is that so?” His chuckle filled the dreary night and I smirked in return, nodding. I was only half-joking. But to have any sort of positive experience with the man was reward enough, “Your acting is improving.”
“Acting?” I asked sarcastically. “I suppose the best actor is one that fills the role so well, he doesn’t even know he’s acting.”
He gave a smirk and a wink, and the carriage was silent. Grim, almost. Times like these were few and far in between. What with my father’s aging and stressing. He had a country to run, with enemies, friends and frenemies constantly at his throat. I couldn’t exactly blame him. Then again, it struck me with fear. We looked so similar; despite our stark differences, we were still father and son, after all.
I gulped and returned my gaze to the floor. I couldn’t keep my eyes on him without growing a little sick. I really didn’t know how I felt about the man. Things had gotten complicated at the time, and my own inner troubles were constantly being projected onto others. That included my father, and my king. Of course, I had my reasons for resentment.
I knew I was nothing to be proud of. I was tall and lanky. My arms practically dragged across the floor, I was so hunched all of the time. My eyes were brown and bland, opposed to my father's maple, honey hazel. My hair was black, growing too long, and straight, and looked odd on such pale, almost sickly white skin. I couldn't grow a beard despite reaching puberty (which arrived late). I never developed a sturdy or broad figure. I was the opposite of how a prince should appear. It made me ashamed too.
I snapped out of my trance and peered out the window once again. Just as I had expected, the sun had receded into the night, and the sky was full of stars. The sight made me smile. It reminded me of when I was just a boy. When I would pull all-nighters, staring up at the sky, stealing food from the kitchen, playing pranks on the kitchen staff. The life of a young prince almost makes the life of an old one worth living.
Luckily enough, my thoughts consumed the time that it took for the carriage ride to draw out. Before long, the couple hours had passed and we reached our destination. Even then, my back began to hurt and my neck to throb, from craning and hunching for so long. I knew I was wrecking my posture, but I did it more so out of spite. My father seemed to absent-mindedly watch me the rest of the way, swaying back and forth in his seat as if he were a drunken fool. I had just noticed as the ride was coming to an end.
We stopped and swayed abruptly, telling me we've reached our destination. The carriage shaked and the sound of two feet dropping to the ground emitted from in front of us as a clumsy, broken looking servant rushed over to the door, knowing damn well not to take his time. The door visibly shook from how nervous the kid was. He didn't look any older than fourteen, at the most. He finally creeped it open; he couldn't be any slower if he tried. I sighed and rolled my eyes as he tipped his hat to me as I casually stepped out onto the dry, grassless ground.
I could tell my father wasn't very happy about the fact that I got out before him, and probably rightly so. I just tended to forget just how many frivolous castle rules there are, and when you're supposed to follow them.  
I took one sheepish last look at my father, my eyes cast low and my figure cowering just barely before him, like a guilty child caught stealing a cookie from the jar. I gave him a small, meaningless smile and he simply shook his head from side to side. I doubted I would get punished later, since no one of real importance was around to see, but it was better to practice healthy habits anyways.
Just at a glance, he certainly had the appearance of a king, standing before me, slightly raised on the foothold of the carriage. He stood high and mighty. His eyes were full of courage and lust, and his stature proved his commitment and confidence. The greying hairs on his head donated themselves to his wiseness rather than his age. Of course I knew it was all for show, but he could convince any man, foolish or wise, that it was simply his destiny to rule over a fine and mighty kingdom one day.
After we exchanged nods of affirmation, I strolled casually towards the man we came here to see as my father stepped down from the carriage. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, as if to say, “don’t fuck this up.” A short fellow with quite the contrasting appearance bowed before me. His clothes looked just as tailored and fine as mine, perhaps even the king's himself.
"Your majesty, it is certainly a pleasure to be standing before you.” His voice had just the hint of jitters. It never made sense to me. How respectful and afraid people were of me, even without my father present. I certainly wasn’t a figure of anger or mercilessness. Quite the opposite, or at least that’s how I saw myself. Then again, power didn’t really discriminate. Or at least luck didn’t.
“Yes. You as well.” I nodded, allowing him to stand. I puffed out my chest very slightly and stood up straight. Though I felt silly, it would keep my father happy, and I didn’t care all that much.”Shall we get to business?”
“Oh, yes, promptly.” His eyes lit up with just a tad of glee, and he turned briskly on his heel. I followed just barely behind at as a close a pace I could muster, though I admit he was a bit too slow for my taste.
“This used to be a tobacco plantation.” He started. I rolled my eyes, knowing he was going to go on on some bit about shit I didn’t care about. Of course I didn’t let him see, and when he turned back to look at me for reassurance, I simply gave a pursed smile and a small nod.
“Lately, however, what with the industries booming… Cotton, tobacco, corn. You name it. We’ve moved onto a less…” his pause made me squint and almost shiver. “Common sort of business. Your father, he is quite the knack when it comes to economics. Him and I both agree, this’ll be the next big thing. Importing is just too costly, what with the death tolls, and the voyage back and forth. No, no. We need something efficient. Something we can keep going. We have a few other facilities scattered around the country, but this is our newest, and soon to be biggest, pride and joy of our mission.”
I could feel my face flush and my skin turn a ghostly pale. How open he was about it. How dissonant it all made me feel. I got a queasy feeling in my chest as the epiphany hit, and I felt like I was going to puke.
Instead, I straightened up and cleared my throat. “I see.” The deliberate intensity of my voice made me cringe, and I wiped a sweaty palm against an even sweatier face.
The place was, at the very least, misleading. An old country looking home, like one you might see in a story book. A little log-cabin like house, with open windows from a family that couldn’t just yet afford glass. A little front porch with a homemade rocking chair that probably made the floorboards creak when you sat in it. Sun-bleached white curtains that swayed in the window and got washed every Saturday, and never Sunday, because that was the Lord’s day. A long, dirt-paved driveway that forked to the house on one end and to the shed on the other. It wasn’t something you’d expect in the Kingdom; that felt more like a midwestern thing. But it was here, too.