agent 03 // dreamnotfound

-seven-

two days remained until george's birthday ball arrived, leaving him with a sharp sense of impending despair.

George had barely finished breakfast before considering asking his mother if he could visit the flower garden again, expecting to run into Dream. He was heavily under the impression that she was going to instantly decline since he had just been out the preceding day, but he figured he'd at least try. He was somewhat fearful of Dream still, but feeling frightened was much favored over interminable monotony enough to kill him. At least there was a thrill in fear. Dream possessed quite an intriguing personality, he wanted to chat with him again, no matter where the conversation went. There was just something about him that he wanted to know more about.

After a minute of hesitation, George sat down his fork and began to speak. "...May I be excused? I want to spend a little more time in the garden today, if that's alright." His mother glanced up as she plucked up her glassful of orange juice in the most detailed mug feasible. It felt as if she was striving to prove her wealth to people who already knew she was well-off. "Why? You were just out there yesterday, isn't it hot outside? All the insects out there don't bother you?"

George was quick to shake his head. "Not really, I tend to ignore them. May I? I swear I'll be back early." He was very eager but he tried not to let it show in fear of being charged with even more questions.

The queen considered the circumstances for a moment, leaving George in a state of crushing anticipation. "I'd... rather you not," George instantly sank his shoulders in response, "I want you to help me set up the tables in the ballroom today. Knowing you, you'll waste the entire day outside and I'm not running out there to get you, nor am I going to send one of our lovely housemaids out there in that heat. Just wait until after your party, it's only a few days, I'm sure you'll survive."

George frowned but remained civil and modestly accepted it. He traveled back upstairs, his heart a bit dejected. He never really looked forward to anything or even asked for anything specifically, and the one time he actually did, his mom shut him down without a worry. He genuinely wanted to go anyway despite his mother's orders, but his only means of escape would be exiting through his window. He would probably shatter his legs if he attempted that so he instead sat by his windowsill and tried to brainstorm ideas.

The door to the court of the north wing was never guarded. There was no need for it to be supervised, it didn't lead to anything other than the orchard. He could leave through that door and just travel around the side to the garden path.

George smiled, a spring of excitement washing through his body as he bounced up to get dressed. He was majorly stunned that he hadn't been criticized for wearing his sleepwear to breakfast. George slid on one of his most comfortable ruffled, white button-up shirts and tucked it into a simplistic pair of dark pants. It was pretty standard royal attire, but he did enjoy it.

---

Dream had been up and about since daybreak just roaming around, developing his next plans of action. He had a basic idea of how he wanted to go about his tasks, but they positively needed some fine-tuning. The night guards were lazing around by the main gates, waiting for eight o'clock to hit so they could clock out on the dot. He had spent days memorizing their schedules beforehand so he'd have a lesser chance of getting seized before initiating his plan. Dream knew every spot a guard would be at any precise time.

He was remaining stagnant until he had George in his sight to do anything productive that day. He was supposed to be obtaining his trust, after all. He couldn't do that by breaking in. Dream didn't know exactly where George was, but he did have a vague idea.

The prince was frequently seen peering out his window, eyes fixed to either the range of wildflowers that beckoned his presence or the blanket of stars that piqued his ever so restless curiosity. Dream wondered how George could put every ounce of interest into something as simple as a flower bud or ball of gas and never once grow bored, even for a moment. An unprecedented desire for understanding and liberation.

As foreseen, he was sat wistfully upon his windowsill, examining the trees in the distance as best he could from acres away, lost in thought as he determined the final points to his escape strategy. Dream bounced up from his heels and waved his bandaged hands to try and get his attention. George flinched, shifting back a little in surprise. He immediately slid open his window. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dream smiled under his childish mask and replied, "Oh, nothing. Just a bit jaded. Would you be interested in joining me on a little walk?" The question opened too many doors for George to be comfortable with; most worryingly the feasibility of being butchered in the woods that bordered the meadow.

Raising an eyebrow, George asked, "To where? And for how long?" He was already planning on leaving in hopes of locating the person standing underneath his window like Romeo Montague, but this option came at the price of viable misfortunes.

Dream glanced down in thought, a few bunches of dirty blonde hair poking out from the top of his mask and edge of his hood. It was nice to know he was a real person under it. "Not long. Just wanna have a short chat with someone who would understand what I'm talking about. Just around the garden."

"Understand what?" George asked, tilting his head a tad.

"Why don't you stop asking questions and just tag along?"

George was extremely confused, but more so curious than anything. He sighed, locking his windowpane delicately, and unobtrusively rushed downstairs. He had no clue where his mother was but the adrenaline was enough to blur it from his mind. A few minutes later he appeared next to Dream in the yard below his bedroom window. There was about a half a foot height difference between the two. The maids wouldn't be checking on George for another two hours, so he believed he had more than enough time to spare.

Dream laughed at how nervous George was. "You're especially paranoid, huh? You're obviously not a rule breaker." To others, the prince would seem perfectly fine; confident even. However, Dream had become considerably skilled at analyzing people throughout the years. George was putting on a front. He was faking his confidence in an endeavor to appear unfazed.

George's cheeks went a touch red. He had been called out. "I-I can be a rule breaker! I just kind of follow rules because if I don't... then it doesn't end up well..." He sounded very defensive, mostly because he wanted to seem fun and engaging to Dream, not just a withdrawn prince that did anything and everything he was told. He wasn't making himself look good.

"Sure," Dream replied sneeringly, grasping George's arm and beginning to walk, "let's just go before you embarrass yourself." George just went along with the striding but was still bewildered. "Are we just going to the garden? We'll get our heads chopped off if we go any further."

"Executions like that aren't used anymore around here. I thought you of all people would know that, being a prince and all. You'll see when we get there." Dream didn't cease his trekking, but he had let go of his clutch on George, who turned his head in annoyance. "You know what, mask boy? I don't think I like you very much."

"Mhmm," the aforementioned 'mask boy' hummed in response, "whatever you say, prince boy."