pretty boy || dreamnotfound

a servant

noon washes over the horizon, a comfortable tranquillity settling in and replacing the busy mornings. hurried footsteps turning into casual strolls as dainty shops scattered throughout the town begin to relax as midday arrives. the sun beams brilliantly onto the ground below, casting shadows in awkward places and illuminating everything else. the light shines through castle windows, reflecting onto the dust which floats idly through the air.

the red carpet grows warm in the heat of the sun, tinting it a lighter colour as it dries the pigment within, causing it to become a salmon pink due to its age and the hot summer temperatures. now it looks old, packed with grit and mud stains which dream had probably walked in after long hours of training in the dirt.

the prince lets out a frustrated sigh, the sword in hand proving to be a challenge as he tries to sharpen it. the blade glimmers in the spotlight of the sun, signalling it has been polished to perfection to the blonde, but he pays no attention as he's far too focused on fixing the blunt edge of the metal.

a knock on the thick oak door interrupts him as it echoes through his large room, and he lies his sword gently onto his bed as he beckons for the stranger to enter.

"sir." the guard greets, nodding slightly toward dream. "the king would like a word with you."

his statement earns another sigh from the blonde, but he wonders what could be so important. without bothering to thank the guard, he leaves, and makes his way into the common room. upon arriving, he notices his father standing up straight, a stern look on his face. for a moment, dream begins to think his father may have caught him sneaking out, although he doesn't remember when he last did this, but exhales a breath of relief at his father's first words.

"good news, my son." the king announces as he spots the blonde, thus resolving any dread he held to the thought that he might've gotten caught breaking rules. "we managed to arrange for you to have a new servant."

dream hesitates, his breath hitching in his throat at the mention of a servant, but he forces a smile akin to the one on his father's face. he's grateful that the king went through such efforts, but a part of him didn't want to accept. the idea of having some useless servant follow him around like a lost puppy didn't sound appealing to him- he compared the thought of a servant to something more like being stuck with an irritating mosquito.

this whole situation annoyed dream, but he'd have to cope, for now. he looks at his father, who nods, and within seconds, a boy walks into the room.

the boy looks up to the king, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "sire."

"this is george." the man says, a proud expression on his face as he looks at his son.

the boy, george, finally looks over at the blonde, and his face twists into one of shock and then of embarrassment. the prince fights the urge to laugh at the look of horror the other is showing. a moment of silent passes as the two stare at another in a mix of anger, amusement and guilt.

dream finally shrugs, taking short steps toward the door. "at least i'll have somebody to polish my armour."

he continues walking outside and george follows him silently. once away from the king's ears, he scowls at the blonde. "i didn't think you were actually a prince." he states defensively.

"shouldn't you apologise?" he questions, not stopping to face the other. his tone is much different to yesterday's. today, it is firm, all sense of humour gone.

"you're still an idiot." george whispers. "just a royal one."

dream halts, turning around to face the boy. "my armour is in the armoury, it's not hard to miss." he states, tossing a rusty key at the other. "i want it polished by tomorrow morning."