Chapter Text
Bobby, as it turned out, ended up being better at cleaning than Sandy and Patrick combined. He would dust areas they wouldn't even think to look for, and arranged the pillows and sheets in a perfectly symmetrical way. Their looks of surprise must not of been as secret as they hoped, as Bobby flushed pink at the end of their last room.
''Cleaning is calming.'' He offered in explanation, despite neither actually asking what they were dying too. ''The right wing goes mostly unused by anyone but me, so the staff doesn't get here often. Those who do, never really last. So I take care of it.''
Patrick, oddly enough, understood that very well. Not the cleaning bit, he hated sweeping with a passion, but in the way Bobby looked so lonely. Before Sandy, who had to physical drag him out of his slump, Patrick had been very much alone. Parents and sister gone, no explanation or reasoning, but leaving behind their useless, slacker son and brother.
If only they could see him now. With a fancy new wardrobe and hobnobbing with royals.
Sandy made a face, like she couldn't quite deal with the emotions Bobby was making her feel. She always was the kind of person to think with her head, rather than her heart. From what Patrick could tell about Bobby, was all heart.
''Anyway!'' Bobby continued, and Patrick realized that with the work done they were being lead down the hallway, both he and Sandy trailing after him without a thought. ''If you two are free, maybe we could spend some time together! Are you hungry? We could go to my room.''
The questions, and exclamations buffeted at them came quick, but Patrick found himself enjoying it. The young lad was infectious in his joy, and fighting a smile was pretty much impossible.
''You had me at hungry. All William told me to do was clean the bedrooms in this wing, and with you two helping me I'm already done.''
''I dunno...'' Says Sandy, reluctantly careful. ''Is it alright for you to be fraternizin' with a couple 'a staff members?''
Bobby's eyebrows rose close to his hair line, still a messy swipe of red-gold. ''Why wouldn't it be?''
''Well, uh- well...'' Sandy dropped her shoulders in defeat at Bobby logical rebuff. A tiny smile appeared on her face, and Patrick could see it was more real than not. ''You got me there Bobby. My shift ain't for another two hours, so I guess we got time to kill.''
A weight, so obvious that both Sandy and Patrick caught it at once lifted off of Bobby's shoulders. For a someone who was basically a stranger, he was getting easier to read by the second. Patrick didn't like to think of his reaction had they turned him down.
''I live at the end of the right wing. I've got a whole room to myself!'' The cat, who only just reappeared in the hallway meowed loudly, tail trashing as it rubbed against Bobby's legs. He laughed good naturedly. ''Sorry Gary-Beary. It's your room too.''
''Wait.'' Said Sandy. ''You live all by your lonesome over here? You don't stay near the King and Queen?''
Bobby shrugged, a tiny blink and you'd miss it action. The subdued motion didn't suit him. ''The King is a busy man. Sometimes Queen Karen will visit me. She brings me tea.''
All the rumors of the Queen, nearly a silent shadow compared to her husband, would cause Patrick to think she wasn't the tea type of lady. By his side Sandy looked down right suspicious. This was a piece of information that they could file away for later.
Like the sun cresting Bobby was back to what Patrick assumed was his natural cheery attitude. ''Here we are! Home sweet home.''
Unlike all the other rooms of this wing, Bobby's showed sturdy oak double doors. The details were amazing, fitting for royalty. Patrick couldn't even pretend to know how all of those little carvings in the wood were made. Bobby turned the fine golden handle and the doors opened without the squeak all the other rooms had.
As they walked in Patrick took careful stock of the place. Beautiful drapes hung over vast windows, natural light from the lowering sun filtering in. It shone across (and Patrick actually snickered at this, earning a smile from his companions) Bobby's three mattress high bed. Off in the corner Gary plopped down among a pile of plush pillows and promptly fell asleep.
Sandy made a breathless sound of awe. He looked to see whatever would cause such a rare gasp, and followed her eyes to the mountains of book shelved on Bobby's wall. A collection of literature such as this was a rare one in town, and despite being the opposite of a bookworm himself, even Patrick could appreciate this commodity.
''This is amazin' Bobby!'' She stroked the spine of one of the nearby books with her forefinger. ''Our library in town ain't half as impressive as this.''
''Then why don't you take some?''
''Pardon me?''
Bobby rolled his eyes, but even that could look nothing but in good fun. He went to her side and reached for the book she had been caressing, having to balance on the tips of his toes to do so. It was a solid red, golden embroidery stretched across the cover.
''Take it.'' Bobby repeated, and when Sandy didn't move, physically pushed it into her hands. Reflexively she took hold, but her mind seemed to be having trouble keeping up with what was just said.
''I-I can't.'' She floundered, but Patrick could see her vice grip on the book. ''I can't just take somethin' o' yours. You're the Prince.''
That last comment made Bobby flinch ever so slightly, hands curled at his side. It passed as quick as it came, and Bobby was smiling again, fondly insistent. ''You can when I'm giving it to you. You can consider it a gift. In fact!'' He lifted a finger with a little woosh of ah ha! and turned his attention to Patrick. ''You can take something too! A book, or maybe some clothes? Jewelry?''
Patrick, who's record of receiving gifts was limited to Sandy's company, shook his head. It was overwhelming to be offered so much, especially when he was accustomed to so little.
Sandy cut in before Bobby could get to cajoling Patrick, very sure that one look at those sparkling blue eyes that he would crumble. ''Bobby.'' She said, though still stuffing the book into her satchel. ''That's real kind. But you don't gotta give us your stuff. It's nice just being here.''
''Really?''
''Really. It's a beautiful room. Must be nice havin' this big old place to yourself in such a crowded castle, huh?''
Instead of answering Bobby turned, plopping himself down onto his large bed. Well, Sandy knew that sound. It was the same sad grunt Patrick would give her whenever her would focus too much on what his parents did and didn't do. And while this was the Prince, and she had only known Bobby for a little over an hour now, Sandy found no hesitation in what she did next.
She sat down next to him, and Patrick joined a moment later. Like the presence of two bodies next to him was an immediate improvement Bobby rose, slightly sheepish.
''What's eatin' ya?'' Patrick asked.
That got a wiggle out of Bobby, like he was struggling to answer the question. ''It's a nice room.'' He admitted, lips turned in a half forced smile. ''But I really miss my old one. I know that's really nothing to complain about, but; eugh.''
Now, Patrick got that. ''Eugh.'' He repeated sympathetically.
Sandy smirked at Patrick over Bobby, who began to cheer up the slightest. Her hand moved as if she wanted to ruffle Bobby's hair, only to change trajectory at the last moment to settle on his knee. ''Well, can't you move? You are the Prince.''
''No. King Sheldon ordered me here after my parents died.''
That sent a chill through the room. Even with the casual way Bobby said it, the way he tightened where he sat, stiff and still showed just how hard it was to mention his decade old loss.
''Besides,'' he continued. ''My old room was never this close to the garden.''
He stood again, stretching stiff legs until they popped, and strolled off to another set of double doors Patrick had missed before. A lovely silk curtain hid half of it away, which Bobby pulled aside. Sandy and Patrick joined him, and Bobby gave them a look of excitement as the door opened.
Revealed to them was a canopy of sprawling oak limbs, the fading sun jutting through just enough to catch the flower beds in its glow. It was an amazing view to be sure, but Sandy couldn't help to notice with the high walls, and tall tree blocking out most of the sky, it could hardly be considered outside. More of an extended cage with pretty iron bars.
Bobby himself didn't so much as bat an eye. He made his way to a cracked stone bench and sat, patting the empty space next to him when Sandy and Patrick didn't follow.
''It's beautiful.'' She said, opting to stand while Patrick took the seat. ''I ain't never seen some of these flowers before.''
Patrick nodded, eyes locked on a berry bush just a few feet away. Back in town foliage was reduced to dead and dying plants, brown, brittle, and all together useless. The only living ones you'd see were on farms, or the odd household with a green-thumb, and even then the last decade had seen some hard growing times. He wondered if they were edible...
Bobby plucked one the of flowers Sandy was looking at and held it between his fingers. It was dark purple, with six perfectly symmetrical petals. He held it aloft towards her shyly, like he expected the offering to be rebuffed again.
''I bet it would look even more beautiful in your hair.''
For a moment, long enough for all three of them to hear nothing but the wind, Sandy didn't move. It wasn't like before, when Bobby had gifted her a book. That had seemed more like a plea of friendship, a desperate gift from a lonely boy. This was different. Sandy didn't exactly consider herself bottom of the barrel when it came to looks (thought appearance were overrated actually), but she had never had anyone look at her like that. (Except Patrick at times, but she refused to think about that) Bobby wasn't being sly, charismatic in only an open sort of way, nor did he appear to be lying for her affection. This was his full unadulterated truth.
She took it, exceedingly careful with the delicate thing, and tucked it into her hair. Bobby smile, while Patrick could be nothing but awestruck. Sandy looked, looked, wow. Who knew such a simple accessory would suit her so well.
''Gosh Bobby. I-'' The sound of a shrill bell her off, and Sandy sunk, somewhat relived. ''That's the call for my shift. I gotta run.''
''Aww.'' Bobby frowned, less surprised than Sandy would of expected. ''Okay. You're welcome back anytime.''
''Thanks Bobby. Hey Pat?''
''Yup?''
''See you later.''
''Right-o.'' He waved her away, Bobby coming back to the seat at his side once Sandy left. Patrick didn't know what to say, and Bobby didn't seem inclined to talk, so he went back to studying the berry bush. He had no clue what they were. Bobby didn't look like the type to keep dangerous plants so close to his pet, but he couldn't truly be sure. Sandy would probably know. Or maybe even Edward.
A pale hand cut through his vision and plucked one of the round fruits from its perch. Patrick almost startled, and followed the trail of the hand back up to Bobby's hopeful face.
''They aren't poisonous, if that's what you're worried about. Look.'' He plopped it into his mouth as to prove the point. A reddish residue stained his fingers where the berry had just been. Bobby gave a pleasant hum, reaching for a few more of the little treats.
That was good enough for Patrick. They had gone this far that he was reasonably sure Bobby wasn't going to actively try and kill him. He was hard pressed to think Bobby had a vile bone in his body. He focused, gathered a handful of the berries, and taste tested one carefully. They were sweet, but not overbearingly so, and unlike anything he had ever sampled before.
A lot like Bobby in berry form.
''These are good!'' He said, and Bobby looked over at his bush like a prideful parent.
''It's a Barberry bush. Or, Berberis canadensis if you want to be fancy.'' Bobby snorted at that absurd name. He lifted an arm towards the plant again, but instead of picking another berry he stroked the soft leaves with a finger. ''My grandmother planted most of these. I remember coming in here with her to play as a kid while she painted.''
Like before that sad look crossed Bobby's face. It was still jarring enough that Patrick clinched his fist without thinking, sending a squirt of Barberry juice scattering across his fingers.
''My friend Edward has a garden.'' He said in a rush.
''Huh?''
Patrick loathed to dirty up these fine clothes Sandy had scored for him, so he ran his hand against the grass in an attempt to clean it. Bobby looked somewhat amused at that, so he continued. ''Yup. Nothing fancy as this, but he keeps some plants inside his house. Sometimes if I catch him in a good mood he'll give Sandy and me mint, and Sandy will make tea.''
''That sounds...'' Bobby settled with a far off gaze. ''That sounds lovely. I usually take my tea alone.''
''Well,'' after a short debate deciding if it would be okay to sling an arm around royalty, and coming to the conclusion that with Bobby nearly anything would be alright, Pat pulled him close. ''Let me tell you about this time Edward tried to convince Sandy and I the shop he works at was haunted-''
---
Within the next five days Sandy and Patrick found themselves visiting Bobby more often than not. Every night as they returned to their quarters Sandy would remind him that information was what they sought above all else, yet every morning the three of them would be laughing joyously in Bobby's room, too caught in the euphoria of friendship to think about any ulterior motives.
Patrick was rather happy about that. He liked Bobby. The guy was refreshing in his kindness, something he hadn't seen since meeting Sandy all those years ago. And Sandy, much as she'd avoid admitting it, was just as enamored with the Prince as he was.
In a friendly way, of course. They weren't so foolish as to think a royal would, or could ever be more than a friend with two poor commoners. Especially if Bobby would take the crown should their coup against King Sheldon be successful. And that was assuming Bobby even wanted to continue this friendly relationship once he learned what they were doing.
Patrick sort of hoped he'd never learn it.
With Sandy keeping up with night patrol, and Patrick being nearly shunned to cleaning of the right wing of the castle, they often spent the afternoon with Bobby. The day prior he had sent them away with a promise of surprise. Sandy, while worried what in the world that could mean, had promised as eagerly as Pat had seen her in ages that they wouldn't miss it for the world.
Patrick rushed through his chores that next day, and with Sandy's assistance they arrived at Bobby's door almost half an hour early. She knocked, a mere formality as Bobby insisted they could drop uninvited anytime. A scuffle came from behind the door, and Bobby answered after a rather concerning thump. He looked just as happy as the day they first met, even a bit more wild. A cloak, thick and dark hung around his shoulders.
''Hey guys!'' He said, breathless. ''Fancy a stroll outside the castle?''