My Second Lead

PROLOGUE

Once upon a time, there lived a prince who was very fond of roses. He loved them so much, his parents gave him a whole garden filled with them. The young lad made sure to tend to it everyday, rain or shine, and as a result of his hard work, his roses were considered the most beautiful in the whole kingdom, for there was not a flower that could compare to them.

One day, the prince and his friend, the son of the king's adviser, were taking a stroll around the garden.

"Aren't they pretty?" The prince's voice was filled with enthusiasm as he cut one stem and started removing the thorns. "Look, my friend, at how its petals glimmer under the morning sun!"

"A sight to behold, Your Highness," His friend answered in amazement. He may not share the same excitement as the prince, however, he does find the red plants eye catching. "I find your determination and passion for roses very admirable, sire."

"Ah, stop. To be quite honest, I still ask myself as to why and how I grew a liking to these precious flowers. But I am yet to find my answer."

The adviser's son merely paid attention as the prince continued praising his beloved roses, when a certain bed caught his attention. He knelt down and touched one of its petals, and for some unknown reason, he was drawn to them. "Your Highness, if I may be so bold as to ask for a flower..."

"Why of course--wait. What," The prince slowly approached the flowers his friend had taken an interest in. "Are those?"

"What do you mean? They're roses, are they not?"

"Absolutely not!" The prince abruptly cut one stem and closely examined the flower. "These aren't roses, these are camellias! How and why are there camellias in my rose garden?!"

"Camellias?" The other lad muttered, his gaze still on the flower.

"A gardener must've planted the wrong flower. I must dispose of this bunch immediately! Oh, how could I not have noticed this? They may look alike, but they are and most definitely will not be roses! I mean, look at their petals!"

"Your Highness!" His friend bowed before he could say anything else. "Rather than disposing of them, I plead you to keep them in their current position, but let me be the one to tend to them."

The prince's anger dissipated, and his eyes softened upon hearing his trustworthy friend ask for something he usually would not. Then, recollecting himself, he let out a chuckle and tapped the lad on his shoulder. "If it's what you want. Fine, these camellias are now yours."

And so that's how the next few weeks progressed. Every time the prince visited his garden, the adviser's son tagged along with him, tending to his flowers. With each passing day, he had come to notice the difference between the two flowers, and it was safe to say that he preferred his camellias over the prince's roses.

But his happines was short lived.

A storm none of them expected came, and the whole kingdom refrained from leaving their homes. The castle did nothing different.

All except for the prince.

"Mother, please allow me to visit my garden!" The lad clasped his hands together. "I need to go and see if my flowers are in perfect condition!"

"Are you insane, boy?" The king's voice thundered throughout the room. "Do you not see this typhoon? What if something hits your head? Who will be the next king if you are dead?!"

"But Father--!"

"My child," The queen finally spoke up. "Please listen to your father. It is for your sake, and the kingdom's as well."