ꜱᴏʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

Remember

Don't Want to Fall in Love~ Kyle

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Prince Nico gazes down from his bedroom window as the rain batters the practice field and turns his only outlet into a swamp. He scowls at the idea it will likely take a week of good weather to dry it out again and by then, he'll have died from sheer boredom.

He pictures himself, forgotten in the window seat, slowly decaying until he's only a skeleton before anybody notices he's missing.

He tells himself he doesn't care, tries to think of the guilt his father would feel after he realized what had happened, and then he tries to think of something else before he starts getting weepy. The truth, he realizes, is that his father would probably just sweep his whole existence under the rug, never mention him again, and really, who is there that would even care to ask?

That's my fault, the small voice in the back of his mind says. Intrusive thoughts, they call it. He'd learned the term when he was bored and looked the phenomenon up. I pushed them all away. That's why he stopped bringing people around. That's why he doesn't care. What sort of a king would want a son who refuses to socialize. All I have is swordplay and now, I don't even have that.

He leans the back of his head against the stone masonry. It is true, he thinks. Over the years his father had taken an interest in making sure he was looked after. Nico had governesses, and fighting instructors. Sometimes they'd bring their own children along for him to play with, but always, as soon as he got attached, they'd leave. It wasn't ever on good terms. His father would fire them when he'd discover they have connections to somebody he didn't approve of. One ran off and eloped with a knight; another joined a convent; another, his favorite, died while traveling to see him. Bianca had only been on the road that night because of him, had only gone away for the purpose of bringing him a special gift, a hard-to-find mythological figurine from a neighboring kingdom. He'd destroyed his entire collection when he heard she was gone, and then refused any and all attempts to replace her.

He didn't need or want a tutor. He was proficient enough to learn on his own from books, and there's probably a million of them in the castle library. He'd refused all offers to train with a sword master. Instead, he trained himself on the field with the knights, disguised as a page boy, and without his father's knowledge.

His pulse races, his skin heating up when he realizes he's back at square one. There's no way he'll be able to resume the duplicity after being away for as long as it takes the field to dry. He wonders what would happen if he ran off and tried to get a page position in another kingdom.

"Prince Nico?"

Nico smacks his head against the wall as a voice startles him. He misjudges the edge of the window seat and falls, landing hard on his side, a sharp pain shooting up the length of his sword arm.

He roars, clutching his injured wrist to his chest as he jumps to his feet, then whips around to glare at the intruder. He blinks. Crap, he knows this person, sort of, by sight anyway. He's one of the newly knighted members of the court. Maybe if he ...

Nico's mind spins, dislodging his thoughts as the man crosses the room in practically two steps and takes his arm, his forehead creased with concern. His overgrown curly hair is so golden blond, Nico almost wonders if it might actually be gilded. It takes him a moment to catch up with what the man is saying to him.

"I didn't realize you hadn't heard me knock. I'm so sorry, Prince Nico." He turns Nico's hand over with his palm, supporting Nico's arm with his other hand. "Can you move your fingers?"