Chapter Text
Prince Cyrus was never one for civility. He loved to challenge others by starting unnecessary debates that would inevitably end in either screaming or a physical fight. Some of the royals said that he would be unfit to rule England. Others said that he was a smartass that needed to learn some respect. Cyrus never cared for the criticism though. If anything, he lived for it. Finding it hilarious that these people only criticized him thus because they just couldn’t take his brutal honesty. Yes he might’ve been a bit immature but he was young! He had all the time in the world to cause as much trouble as he wanted. At least, that’s what he believed.
Cyrus was out doing one of his personal favorite activities: traveling around the streets of London in the dead of night. London was still a developing city but that didn’t hold the common folk back from drinking and making merry at such a late time. Men and women alike were scattered across the dirt streets. Laughing at jokes that barely made sense, or kissing under the dim light of a candle lamp. Cyrus entered a tavern that was packed with people. He made sure his cloak concealed his face as he brushed past the dense crowd within the tavern.
Cyrus sat at the bar, waving down the bartender as he did.
“A pint of ale good sir!”
The bartender nodded and got to work on the drink. He then slid the mug of ale towards Cyrus once he was done. Cyrus took the mug and greedily drank half of it. Letting out a satisfied sigh as he put the mug back down. Cyrus scanned the bar for any points of interest. Most of the crowd was filled with drunk men participating in inane competitions to try and prove something to themselves. There was also an occasional mysterious figure sitting in a corner of the bar but nothing interesting was happening. It was one of the more civil nights in the bar and that meant boredom for Cyrus. And Cyrus hated boredom.
So he did what any sensible man would do, he went into the crowd of drunken people, and decided to stir up some trouble. Cyrus carefully prowled within the crowd, looking for a perfect target. He finally spotted someone. They were a fairly powerful sorcerer that Cyrus had the displeasure of meeting at a ball a couple months back. He never even bothered to remember their name. It was something like Rhyse or Lice. Whatever their name was, Cyrus couldn’t be happier to see them because their presence meant that he could have a fun conversation with this sorcerer. The sorcerer had a crowd of people gathered around them, men and women alike staring at them in awe as the sorcerer told tall tales of requests that they had to fulfill for the family they worked for. Cyrus stepped up to the table.
“Hey Lice! I didn’t think I’d see you here!”
Despite how jolly the sorcerer was off of the alcohol, their expression immediately turned to disdain as they saw Cyrus. They let out an irritated sigh as they stood up to get a better look at the offender in front of them. The light made the sorcerer’s golden robe shimmer as they moved. The sorcerer gave Cyrus a pointed look. Their gray eyes attempting to pierce him.
“The name is Whyse dear boy. And who might you be?”
Cyrus sighed in relief. It seemed that Whyse was a bit too tipsy to recognize him.
“Well I’m Xander! I work on a farm with my family but I’ve heard some of your stories before. You’re quite famous around here.”
Whyse smirked a bit at the mention of their popularity.
“Why I am happy to hear that you’re an admirer of mine, Lancer. If you want, you can sit down and listen to the story about how I had to slay a siren for her teeth-”
“Oh, well, I actually came here to ask a question.”
“Oh? What would it be?”
“Are any of your stories true?”
Whyse looked to him as if Cyrus had just said the most offensive and obscene thing in the world. They scoffed and shook their head.
“Why of course my stories are true! The life of a royal advisor isn’t exactly a dull one. We’re in charge of protecting and providing for royals with our magic. And because of the abilities we possess, we have to fulfill some of the most outrageous requests.”
“Well if your life was truly so busy and important, then why are you here in a tavern trying to impress a bunch of common folk?”
Irritation was starting to form on Whyse’s face. They got out from behind the table, shoving past their admirers, and stood right in front of Cyrus.
“Do you know the power I hold boy? I could kill you. I could make you piss your pants, or I could turn you into a newt and feed you to some starving robin. So I, personally, would think twice before whatever sentence you’re thinking of, flies out of your mouth.”
A shit eating grin slowly crept onto Cyrus’ face.
“You know… I don’t think the Alus family is going to be very happy to find their oh so important sorcerer, wasting time in a bar like this.” Whyse’s eyes widened in fear.
“H-How’d you- wait… you’re-”
Well, it seemed like this was Cyrus’ cue to go. He clapped his hands.
“It was nice meeting you Lice! But I really need to go now. Have a nice night!”
Cyrus dashed out of the bar and heard a distant ‘That’s the Hilshire boy!’ as he ran. Luckily he escaped the tavern before anyone else could try to stop him. He bobbed and weaved through the streets of London, trying to make his way back to the castle as fast as he could.
After running for a while, Cyrus climbed into the throne room through a window he left slightly open when he left the castle earlier in the night. He carefully tiptoed through the throne room and tried to open and close the throne room door as quietly as he could. Once he did, he sighed in relief as he looked around and saw no guards nearby. Cyrus went down the hall as quickly as he could so that he wouldn’t get in trouble the next morning.
He almost managed to reach his room, but it seemed that someone didn’t want his plan to succeed. “Prince Cyrus?” Cyrus flinched and slowly turned around. It was the captain of the guard. The prince was terrified out of his mind but he put on his best nonchalant smile.
“Why hello there miss Yelena! Fine night tonight isn’t it?” Yelena sighed in disappointment. “My lord, please come with me to the war room. The king and queen would like to have a little discussion with you.”
Cyrus swallowed a lump of terror that was forming in his throat. He was sure that he was in for an execution.