𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓 ❪ PRINCE KIT ❫

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 brought great happiness, but the morning after brought great sorrow.

As Kit entered his father's quarters, part of him knew that this time his father lay sick in bed, he may not rise again. Yet he still held hope as he walked into his father's chambers.

The assistant's expressions were emotionless, the Captain giving him a small smile of luck. Luck that Kit would need. He gave the doctor a quick nod as he passed by him, walking to see his father.

The King's quarters were quite grand. A soft velvet couch, along with bouquets of roses, brought a sense of Kit's mother. Her rose perfume filling his senses as he clung to her once, and the way she cared for her rose bushes. Yet this time, it didn't give the sense of comfort he once had.

Gold details were strewn across the room, clinging onto pillars and dresses. Kit didn't even give them a glance. He went straight to his father, who was tucked in his olive bed sheets.

"Oh, you've come. Good." A thin layer of sweat covered his face, the King's eyes lighting up  as they saw Kit. He gave Kit a tired smile.

Kit couldn't return it. The look of his father laying in bed, completely helpless, was horrible to look at. Kit looked at him with sorrowful eyes, pushing back the tear's that welled up.

"Oh, father. Don't go." Kit took his place beside his father, grasping his hand as he kneeled on the bed. The King's hand was limp in his, his strength fading away. Knowing that his father was so close to death, and there was no way to stop it, was horrifying. It was too soon. Kit still was an apprentice, still a boy. There hadn't been enough time with him.

"I must." The King said, breaking Kit's heart. "You needn't be alone, take a bride. The Princess Chelina." The King rasped, his voice soft. Kit pushed back more tears, struggling for words. He didn't respond.

His father well knew that his heart had been unexpectedly taken by another. The King noticed his hesitation.

"What if I commanded you to do so?" The King said, his voice raspy. He looked at Kit with tired eyes.

Kit hesitated. He did not want to disrespect his father, but he had to know that Kit had his eyes for another girl. Not some grand princess with a rich kingdom, just a mystery princess. Who was had all the riches in the world to him, kindness.

"I love and respect you, but I will not." Kit said, hesitating to swallow the lump in his throat. "I believe that we need not look outside of our borders for courage or strength. What we need is right before us. Where's theres goodness, magic is bound to come." Kit croaked, a small smile on his lips despite some tears welling up in his eyes.

"Just so." The King whispered, staring at Kit with pride. "You've become your own man. Good. And perhaps with the little time left to me, I could become the father you deserve." The King said in between pauses. His voice was becoming more faint now, and he was slowly slipping into the darkness.

Yet he looked at his son Kit with pride, at the man he had become and the ruler he would be. Kit swallowed thickly at his father's words.

"You must not marry for advantage, you must marry for love." The King said, the words escaping in a faint whisper. He paused in between, struggling for the strength to continue. Kit's frown faded at his father's words, a quiet shock and a realization resonating in his soul.

"Find that girl. Find her. The one they're all talking about. The one who tripped and almost lost a shoe." Both father and son shared a laugh, though Kit's was shaky. A small smile appeared on the King's, though his time was almost spent. Kit smiled behind the tears, glistening in his eyes, as the laughter faded.

"Oh, be cheerful, boy." His father said as Kit's smile faded.

"Thank you, Father." Kit said softly, a sad smile on his face. It was a thank you for everything. For the time they spent together. For the things he learned. For the memories they shared. And now those times were coming to an end.

"Thank you, Kit." The King smiled. Even in his last moments, he was cheerful. A tear rolled down Kit's face, though a smile was present.

"I love you, Father." Kit whispered, curling up beside his Father.

In those moments he felt like a boy again, not a King. Their time had passed so quickly. From the moment he was born, his father was at his side.

And as his father lived his last moments, Kit was by his. They had been through everything together. From their grief to their love. And now it was death that they shared. For the Kit had lost a father, as the King had lost Kit's mother. And from that day on, a new King rose.

Once the time for mourning had passed, a proclamation was sent out.

Bea was wandering through the town square with Cynthia when the royal guard arrived, along with the royal crier. Their bright blue coats were impossible to miss in the crowd of browns and greys.

The Royal Crier himself stood out the most, with a large hat adorned with big, bright yellow and blue feathers. His voice reached the crowds of the townspeople, drawing them in like fish on hooks. A large crowd collected before him as he read a scroll out loud.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye!" The Royal Crier cleared his throat before continuing.

"Know that our king hereby declares his love for the mystery princess. And requests that she present at the second ball, which is to be held at the palace, whereupon, if she will be willing, he will forwith...marry her." The crowd erupted with gasps and cheers.

Bea froze in place beside Cynthia, a look of bewilderment clear on her face. He loved her. Kit, and now the King, loved her. And so much he would spend the rest of his life with her.

But how would he react when he found out she was a servant? Would he be disgusted, angry, betrayed? Bea's jaw hung wide open, the shock and panic freezing her in place. Cynthia noticed this. She shook Bea lightly. But Bea didn't budge.

"I-I have to go!" Bea stuttered. She left no time for Cynthia to question or reassure. She headed straight towards the palace, running right past a white cat, who's blue eyes watched her.