The Prince and the Knight

1.3

Once he had finished showing the girls around the gardens and had treated them to lunch in an outdoor cafe on the castle grounds, Tooru parted ways with the group and headed back inside the castle. The weight of the information that Masako had given him was still a heavy burden on his shoulders and he sought the attention of his mother.

He soon found her sitting alone in a parlor, perched on the windowsill, drinking a cup of tea. The midday sunlight poured through the window, lighting up the features of her young face even though she seemed to be deep in thought about something that was troubling her. Her long, white dress flowed down to her ankles and had not a single crease or stain in it. Everything about his mother was young and beautiful, but nobody truly appreciated how much of a treasure she was except for Tooru himself.

"Mom," he called her gently as he approached her. His mother's caramel-colored eyes looked up at him to meet his own chocolate brown ones as he sat down next to her.

"What is it, Tooru?" she asked softly, setting her tea down on the small table near her.

"I need to talk to you about something important," he began before taking a deep breath and double-checking to make sure that they were alone. Once he'd confirmed that nobody was around besides a guard or two, he relayed the information to his mother that Masako had told him, without saying her name, of course. When he was finished, he watched his mother and waited for her comments.

She sighed deeply and clenched her jaw. "That idiot. He's such an idiot. What does he think is going to happen? That man is so damn selfish!" she growled. She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face. She looked as if she wanted to say more but she didn't get the chance before her husband entered the room.

"Hello, you two," the king greeted them in his deep and overpowering voice, "What are you doing on this fine afternoon?"

Both Tooru and his mother gave the king looks of dissatisfaction and irritation. "That's none of your business, father," Tooru spat daringly, a mocking tone in his voice as he imitated the same tone that his father had used with him earlier.

He saw his father's lips curl up in a smile that indicated the displeasure he must've felt with his son's response. Before the prince could react, the king's hand shot out towards him, his fingers wrapping around the collar of his polo shirt as he clenched the fabric in his hand. He dragged Tooru closer to him and glared down into the eyes of his son with his own intense golden ones. "You dare to talk back to me? You cocky little shit," his father growled through his clenched teeth, which held firm in an evil smile.

"Just thought you might want to see what it's like being treated how you treat me for a change," Tooru responded calmly, unfazed by his father's showy display of dominance. This comment earned him a slap in the face as well as a hard shove, sending him stumbling backwards into the wall. Intense stinging pain filled the left side of his face and he touched the flaming red skin on his cheek, biting back the anger he felt boiling inside of him. He shook his head and let out a deep sigh, running his hand through the brown locks of hair on his head. "I used to look up to you, you know," he added in a low voice.

His father's face crinkled again with distaste and he lunged for his son again, but his wife intervened and stood in the way. "Don't touch him!" she cried and pushed his hands away as she tried to protect Tooru. This action earned him a swift blow from the man upon her cheek and he struck her hard enough to make her lose her balance and stumble over towards Tooru, who caught her and held her in his arms.

"You bastard!" Tooru snapped at his father as he wrapped his arm around his mom, who was weeping gently, covering her face with her hands. She never really dealt well with conflict and she was always the one who was damaged the most by her husband's brusque actions and behavior. "You'd better not lay another finger on her!" He pulled his mother closer to him in an attempt to protect her and comfort her.

The king's face softened from the hard scowl that had sunken into his features, displaying a bright smile instead. "Don't say such terrible things about your father, my boy," he began, clasping his hands together and squeezing his eyes shut as the smile became a bit more forced, "you do share my blood after all, so I can't possibly hate you as much as you seem to believe I do." He reached out towards his wife to stroke her long and soft hair, but Tooru pushed his hand away. "Honey, I'm sorry, baby," he simpered, "I'm sorry I hit you. Come here and let me make up for it. I'll take care of you."

Tooru's mother pulled away from him for a moment before looking at her husband, trying to figure out what to make of him. Her face was pale, besides the bright red splotch that covered the entire left side of her face and would soon bruise. She gave him a look that was hard to gauge, something other than the purity and kindness that shone in her eyes taking over, giving her caramel colored irises a bit of a dark and vengeful undertone. Without a word, she wiped away her tears and left the parlor, heading for another part of the castle, her footsteps barely audible against the floor.

A sinister silence hung in the air, making it feel thick and heavy, and hard to breathe. I hope you know what you've done, Tooru thought angrily as he glared at his father, I hope you know exactly what's coming your way. He touched the burning skin on the side of his face as he started out of the room and down the hallway towards the stairs.

"Nothing a little makeup can't cover up, son," his father called after him, referring to the angry mark on his cheek.

"I wish I could say the same about what you've done," he mumbled in return, his normally soft and lilting voice taking on a dark and ominous tone. He turned his head and peered over his shoulder, gazing deeply into his father's golden eyes to get his point across. The man simply smiled with self-satisfaction and pure greed.

And that was probably going to be one of the last times the two of them ever saw each other. The sky was starting to turn darker. He could see the storm approaching in the distance, and the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach was only growing larger, despite his attempts to ignore it and deny what he knew was going to happen.

Change was never easy.