Chapter Text
The prince was feeling very charitable, playing with the seamstress’ peasant son while she made his mother’s new dress. They were exploring the thick forest just outside the front gates of the estate; The prince confidently stomped forward while the peasant boy followed behind. Mud covered the prince’s nice pants and the peasant boy had scrapes on the palms of his hands from his own clumsiness.
“Are you sure we should be outside the gates, Kacchan?” The peasant boy asked, fiddling with his fingers as a show of nerves.
“I’m the prince aren’t I, I can do whatever I want!” Came the confident response.
“Oh, right, of course!” The boy’s worries weren’t gone but the prince was right. As long as he stayed close to the other boy, he would be fine.
The peasant boy followed in awe of the confident young prince who he thinks of as his best friend.
He usually helped his mother in the shop back in the village and, because it was just the two of them, he never really had time for much else. When he would go out and try to play with the other kids, they would pick on him. A lot. He eventually gave up on playing with the other kids his age and started reading in any free time he had.
But times like now were his favorite. His mother was in the castle with the queen making adjustments to a gown and probably insanely nervous at the idea of accidentally pricking her majesty with a pin despite having worked for the queen for at least half a decade. She preferred he wasn’t there so she could focus wholly on her work, though she would never say so.
While she worked, the peasant boy played with the prince for as long as he could.
No one would call the prince kind, but he had never had friends before. There were some servants' children that were close to his age but he was constantly being told how one day he would rule over everyone. His mind couldn’t work out how to be friends with people who he needed to order around. So he rejected them the few times they worked up the courage to ask him to join in their games. The prince knew he would rule over the peasant boy one day too, but they had already known each other for a few years so no use stopping now. And the boy already worshiped the ground the prince walked on and followed the prince around anytime he visited the castle, which made it easy for the prince to pretend he already ruled the world.
This little arrangement had been going on for years now. The prince was growing into his title in the best way a child could. He was bossier than ever. He drove the servants crazy and filled most of them with a horrible combination of fear and irritation. He is the reason most of the kitchen staff daydream about drop-kicking a ten-year-old off of one of the turrets.
But to the peasant boy, he was the smartest, most amazing prince in the world. While the prince grew a head full of hot air, the peasant boy grew into a hard worker. With a kind soul and a heart full of determination, the peasant boy could light up a room with his smile.
The servants of the castle loved it when the seamstress came and brought her son to play with their demon prince.
The seamstress loved coming up to the castle because the queen would buy anything she made and the creative freedom was incredibly refreshing.
The queen loved the seamstress’ visits because she could talk to the other woman for hours about anything and everything and never feel any judgment.
The peasant boy loved playing with his best friend and being in the castle and surrounding forest made it all seem like a fairy tale.
The prince loved when he got to see his playmate; the peasant boy was pretty useless but he was always happy to listen to whatever the prince said. Though he would never say something like that out loud. Saying such things out loud would make him look weak.
The peasant boy didn’t seem to mind the prince’s harsh attitude so long as he would say they were still friends a few times a day. The prince had never had a friend before and he’s not sure if the peasant boy really is his friend or just his subject. But saying he is can almost always make the peasant boy stop crying so he’ll just keep it up for now.
Today is a special day. The king and queen were leaving today for a long journey to a kingdom across the black sea and weren’t taking the prince with them. The journey across the ocean was far too dangerous for the ten-year-old and they weren’t planning on being there for more than a season anyway.
But of course, there were last-minute emergencies that needed attending to before they could leave. The king still couldn’t decide which of his favorite books to bring and had to assign a new tax collector after the last one was attacked by wolves the day before. The queen still had to give instructions to the maids and found moth holes in her favorite day dress.
Thus the seamstress was sent for before the sun had even risen. The small, green-haired family spent hours in the castle; the peasant boy played in the woods with the prince until they were both sunburnt and covered in dirt, while his mother took to embroidering delicate vines on the queen’s dress to fill the holes.
The king and queen and about half the staff set off on their journey when the sun was highest in the sky, giving them just enough time to make it to the ocean by nightfall.
The seamstress, her son, the prince, and a few servants stood in the drive watching them go and wishing them a safe passage.
The prince was surprised by a tight hug from the other boy and ruffled his curly hair in response. Then the peasant boy left too, being led down the path by his mother.
The spoiled prince felt his heart sink as he watched the huge iron gates clang shut.
The prince was quiet for the rest of the day. Not fully understanding why his mood was so low and definitely not knowing how to handle it. But with only his servants left, he didn’t who to talk to about it without looking weak. And he couldn’t look weak now that he was “the man of the house”. If by “man” you meant king and by “house” you meant all the land his family ruled. (He wasn’t really in charge but no one told him that.)
It was a lot of pressure for a ten-year-old.
That night, it started raining and the prince thought for sure his mood had influenced the weather and caused the downpour.
Lightning crackled in the sky as someone used the lion’s head door knockers to bang on the front door.
The obnoxious blonde servant hesitantly answered the door to an old woman with a hooded cloak poorly protecting her from the intense rain. She asked to come inside and refused to leave until she at least talked to someone “in charge”. The servant let her into the entryway and went to find the butler since the king’s advisor had gone home hours ago.
The prince watched all of this while peaking out from a shadowed alcove he used to jump out and scare visitors. Which is exactly what he did now. He waited until the servant left and the old woman had turned her hunched back to his hiding spot, then he jumped out and yelled much louder than one would expect from a child.
The old woman screamed and stumbled back. Then her expression turned murderous.
The prince was just hoping to lift his mood but it seemed like the woman couldn’t take a joke.
Her expression only darkened when he told her to calm down.
She started to walk to him slowly, and, for a hunched back old lady, she gave off a very intense and intimidating aura. He started yelling at her to get out, but she only kept on her slow movements now muttering something he couldn’t understand.
The prince could hear many sets of footsteps coming to them. He had made a lot of noise and was now being cornered by a stranger. The servants were frantic.
As the woman’s muttering grew louder, she seemed to straighten, her hood falling back and the wrinkles around her mouth smoothing out. Soon she was yelling her strange language at him and they were both surrounded by the mysterious yellow light. Something about the light seemed to keep the servants from getting to them.
The prince refused to cower so he stood his ground, his red eyes held the stranger’s yellow ones and he stood as tall as he could.
The last thing he saw was the woman’s hair settling into a pale blonde color and her lips turning up in a feral smile as she spoke the last words of her spell.
The prince woke up to the sun in his eyes coming in through the open front door. And nothing was the same.