A/N : I made a playlist for when u wanna listen to songs while reading :3!
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2F8LinKNbkyudip4vFZyLE?si=9fKxGkBZQ-imlqMkN8qyRw&pi=IG60Pry6QP2vH
Anyway, enjoy the story!
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Skeppy was still sprawled on his bed when his personal maid knocked on his door and entered his room. She sighs, stepping close to the prince to shake him to consciousness, “Your royal highness, it's time to get up.” From this, Skeppy's eyes flutter open.
“Good morning, Puffy,” he tiredly greeted the maid as he sat up. “You need to start getting ready soon. I'll prepare your outfit for you while you shower, and once you're done changing, you are expected to make your way immediately to the dining room.” she explains before bowing and making her way to his closet.
Skeppy pushes out the blanket off of him and he makes his way to the restroom.
—
Skeppy looks at himself in the mirror, flattening his outfit and combing his hair. Once he was pleased with how he looked, he left the room and made his way to the dining room, just like what Puffy instructed him to do.
“Ughh..” he groans. Today was like no other day. It was going to be tiring like always. He didn't mind the work as much since it meant being able to help others, although he does admit that it is pretty tiring. He also liked to use this opportunity to get out the house more—after being locked up in the palace for most of his life—only leaving if they had to go somewhere important. Throughout his entire existence, he was always taught what and how a royal should behave. As he grew older, the more he was taught what to do—especially since he is the heir to the throne, he needed to be taught of the duties that came along with the title he would inherit.
Skeppy looks out the long glass window as he walks, gazing at the beautiful scenery of the colorful garden. As a kid, he loved running and playing around the outside palace—which was unfortunately still within castle grounds. He loved watching the knights train, or when he was taught how to ride a horse, and most especially, when he would play or read a book in the garden. It was one of the only places at the castle that truly felt quiet and peaceful. Yeah the palace was quiet, but it wasn't the nice peaceful kind of lonely, it was a sad, empty, isolating kind of lonely. But perhaps because of the sounds of the birds, and the wind hitting the leaves, it felt like there was something living in the garden. Something alive. Something that always kept him company. Something so warming and loving—a type of feeling he rarely feels. But now, since Skeppy is so busy, he could only watch the garden from afar, just like what he's doing at this moment.
When he was finally nearing the dining area, he could hear the high voices of his parents. “Out of all the painters in the world, you chose a beggar?! ” he could hear his dad yell from his end. As he finally arrives at the table he greets his parents politely, “Good morning, mother, father.” They both halted and turned their gaze and faced his direction. “Good morning our Prince,” his mother replied with a soft smile, but his father sneered, “It would have been a good morning if your mother hadn't ruined it.” His mom’s smile faltered and turned to glare deadly into the eyes of his father, making the king cower his eyes away from her, “First of all, just because he's a beggar doesn't mean he has no talent. I've seen that boy paint, and I tell you, he paints like any other professional—maybe even better!”
“Is this about our portrait painting that's coming up in a few days?” Skeppy asks as his plate is being placed in front of him by one of the maids. “Yes, but your mother seems to not take much importance of it, as she just picked a random peasant off the ground and hired them, so he could paint our portrait with DIRT,” his dad says, emphasizing the dirt part. “Well you haven't even seen him paint!”
The king sighs, “Fine. I'll come with you to see this boy today, and if he is as bad as I expected, we will fire him immediately.”
“And Skeppy,” his father says, catching Skeppy's attention. “You will continue on with your tasks at the town today.”
Skeppy simply nods and continues eating.
—
As Skeppy arrives at his destination, he thanks the coachman and gets off. The whole day Skeppy spends his time doing charity work, checking up on the town, and answering to appeals. Once he got home, he immediately went to his room and flopped onto his bed. He was so tired that he almost forgot to eat dinner, until Puffy came into his room to remind him. “Your parents are downstairs waiting for you.”
Skeppy sighed heavily and used the bit of strength that he had left to push himself up. He fixes his posture before heading downstairs to join his parents.
“Ah, Skeppy, you've finally arrived,” his father exclaims when he is in range sight. His mother smiles softly at him as he walks closer to the table, “How was your day, sweetie?” Skeppy sighs, “Tiring as always.”
His father lets out an enormously loud laugh, “Oh Skeppy, great power always comes with great responsibility.” Skeppy takes a seat and begins consuming the food that was served to him. His dad was right. As much as being prince—let alone being king—sounds magical, the duties and work that comes with it are far more difficult than regular jobs.
“Skeppy, we were thinking,” his mom stops midway to face his dad. Skeppy studies them as they stare at each other as if they are both talking to one another through their eyes. He coughs loudly, catching the attention of his parents and signals at them to keep going.
She looks away and fixes her gaze towards Skeppy, smiling, “Remember when we mentioned that we would meet the young painter today?” he nods. “Well, today, when we went to visit his home. He showed us his paintings, and it was just like how I described them. Your dad even agreed right away once he saw them.” Skeppy blinks. He didn't understand why they would hesitate to tell him about that. “How does that have anything to do with me?” He asked, confused.
“Well since we really liked his work, we decided to move the family portrait and have your solo portrait be painted first!” The queen claps her hands together happily.
The young prince, caught off guard, almost chokes on his food. “What?! But why?” “It's because we wanted to display it on your birthday!” his dad joins in.
“But I'm gonna be very busy!” he exclaims, abruptly getting up from his seat. It takes a while for a portrait to be painted. They first need their sketch to be drawn before the painting actually begins. Usually it takes about months till the portrait is done, mainly because it takes so long for oil paint to dry. But it really depends. Some artists require them to sit for minutes—maybe even hours—to sketch and capture every detail of the way they look, and even the way they act. One time they had Skeppy do multiple different poses so they could sketch out every detail of his body.
“Skeppy, you need to relax and sit back down.” The queen orders. He does just that and continues eating. “We know you've been so occupied with your duties, and we're very glad that you're taking it seriously. That's why we decided that tomorrow, he'll come with you to start-'' she couldn't even finish her sentence when Skeppy suddenly interrupted her. “He's coming with me?!”
Credits: @kayzianqwq for beta reading and giving suggestions (I used some of her suggestions)
Word count : 1,319
‹ End of Chapter 1 ›
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"The Prince and the Poet" (skephalo Royal Au)
Fanfiction[ 🎨📜 ] . . . Skeppy is the heir to the throne of the Theia Kingdom. His family has a tradition where in they have their portrait painted every year. And since he's turning 18 in the upcoming year, his parents decided to have him individually paint...
