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Chapter Text

“The Summer Solstice Ball is in a mere two weeks. I trust that you will all be in attendance,” King Horatius said pointedly as he looked at his family.

Prince Morpheus would have furrowed his eyebrows at his father's remark were they not presently at the breakfast table and certain manners must be observed. Nonetheless, the reminder rather confused him. His father's view on such events leaned more towards neutrality rather than fondness, and it was hardly the King's job to oversee the planning for it. Morpheus wondered what could have prompted such a topic of conversation.

“Yes, Father, and the preparations are nearly done,” Princess Thana said. “The menu shall be finalized last to ensure that each dish would have the freshest ingredients.”

“Must I attend?” Princess Delysia idly nudged at her dessert with her fork, her cheek resting on her hand with her elbow propped up on the table. “The dances we have always last late into the night, and it's so crowded.” She scrunched up her nose in distaste.

The King smiled at her fondly. Only their youngest sibling could complain so blatantly and receive such a reaction from their father; Morpheus wasn't anywhere near resentful, though, and in fact looked on at his sister with a similar fondness.

“You need not stay so late,” the King assured her. “We shall greet the honored guests and then you may go to the gardens if you wish.”

Delysia’s eyes brightened and she sat up straight. “May I go to the gardens now?”

Queen Twyla chuckled. “Yes you may, dear.”

Delysia smiled brightly and left the breakfast hall without another word, her slippers echoing on the marble floor.

“Morpheus,” the King called his attention once Delysia’s footsteps had receded out of earshot. “I expect you have no qualms about staying for the entire duration of the ball. Our guests should feel that they are able to approach the Crown Prince at any point in the evening.”

“Of course, Father,” Morpheus answered promptly, though he still felt that there was some other reason as to why his father was insisting upon his attendance. On the contrary, both his parents preferred that he did not mingle very much with outsiders ever since the incident at Fawney Rig.

“Invitations have been extended to all noble families in the kingdom,” the Queen added with her usual smile. “As well as to a selected few outside.”

“Indeed. All respectable families who have been our allies for generations. It would do you well to find a bride among them, my son. Soon enough you would be King, and would have need of an heir,” the King said.

Ah, there is the reason. Morpheus understood.

He exchanged a quick knowing glance with Thana. It was not the first time that their father had reminded him about providing an heir, and Morpheus had theorised with his sister that such reminders would only be more frequent for the both of them seeing as they were the eldest among the siblings who were yet still unmarried.

“Yes, Father,” he replied with just enough of the conviction that was expected of him.

He had always known he would be betrothed to some royal family, and he had almost grown to feel nonchalant about it. Marriage for a Crown Prince was just another one of his duties, no different than the other princely tasks he must fulfill. Still, he took no joy in the idea of being lawfully bound to some stranger for the foreseeable future.

“You will be King for a long time yet, Father,” Thana said with an amiable smile. “There is no urgency for Morpheus to produce little heirs running around the palace halls.”

“None of that from you, Thana,” the King wagged a chiding finger. “You declined the position of heir despite being older than your brother. If my grandchildren would be half as willful as you, Morpheus must produce several of them to ensure that at least one would be a willing heir.” The words were stern, but they could hear the hint of amusement in the King's tone.

“Mind the hour, my dears,” the Queen gently reminded them, looking at the tall windows through which the sun could be seen steadily rising higher. “Morpheus would not want to arrive tardy at Castle Kardinef. They might be old friends of ours but we shall not be taking that for granted.”

“Yes, Mother,” Morpheus nodded and politely wiped his hands and mouth on the linen napkin beside his plate, as had been his habit regardless of whether there was any food residue at all on his person.

“Give Princess Calliope our fondest regards,” the King said with a smile.

“Always.” Morpheus returned the smile and stood up, bowing to his parents before heading out of the dining hall.

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Idle chatter floated across The White Horse tavern as its patrons finished breaking their fast and had now settled into their usual lively conversations.

“Here you are, lads,” the barkeep Louise set down a tray of drinks on the table of the village patrol guards. “One round on the house.”

“Oh, Lou! You didn't have to,” Hob said in surprise.

“But we’ll take it!” said Abel, already grabbing a mug and taking a swig.

Louise cackled a laugh. “Take that as our thanks for you lot dealing with them rogue thieves at the Gov’nor’s office last evening! It'd be a right pain in the tailbone if they'd succeeded in pilfering the village treasury.”

“Just doing our job, Lou.” Hob grinned and raised a mug in toast to her direction before drinking.

“And yer damn good at it.” Louise said with a finality and walked back to the bar.

“Who better to catch bandits than former bandits, eh?” Cain told his friends while raising a playful eyebrow. “We know how they think!”

Hob chuckled. Most of them in the village patrol guard had some relatively shady background before they thought of something better to do in their lives, and Cain still found it amusing at times.

“Aye. Can't beat a true veteran.” Hob glanced out the window of the tavern and saw that it was nearer to noon than morning already. “Ah, it's time for my rounds now, lads.” He quickly chugged down his drink and stood up.

“Go get ‘em, Hobsie!” Abel raised a fist in the air.

“Hopefully there'd be no one to get,” Hob replied. “That was some scuffle we had last night; I wouldn't mind if today would be a tad more peaceful.” He made sure his sword was secure in its scabbard and exited the tavern, taking his usual path along the village to do his patrols.

The free drinks and Cain's remark were making Hob's thoughts turn in his head. Only a little over a year had passed when Governor John Constantine had taken the most infamous bandits and trained them to be patrol guards. It sparked a controversy, but the Governor understood that the bandits were stealing in order to eat. Therefore the most obvious solution was to give them jobs with honest pay that would allow them to protect the village instead of trouble it. It wasn't easy, especially because of the drought that had come upon their land at the time, but it had all worked out in the end. Sometimes it still felt surreal to Hob that he was getting cheerful conversations at taverns rather than getting kicked out.

The sound of carriage wheels interrupted his musings, and his hand went to his sword. But that couldn't be right. Why would a carriage nudge at his combat instincts?

He stopped walking and looked around cautiously. Just as the carriage appeared in his line of sight, he heard a rustling in the bushes and realised a moment too late that it was that sound that really alerted him.

Six men leapt out of the bushes and onto the carriage, startling the horses and causing the vehicle to swerve wildly.

Hob had already drawn his sword and was running towards the scene while his mind took note that it was most definitely a royal carriage being attacked by masked bandits.

The carriage doors burst open and three knights in full armor engaged the attackers in combat, locking the carriage doors behind them. It must be carrying treasure of some sort. Hob joined the fray, waylaying one of the men from getting a horse unbridled and stealing it.

The coachmen had gotten out of the saddles and had run to take cover on the other side of the carriage.

It became immediately apparent that these bandits were far more skilled than the ones that the patrol guards fought the night before.

Hob could barely keep his footing with his opponent; he was backed against a root jutting out of the ground, and he tripped and fell on his back. He grabbed a fistful of dirt and flung it at his opponent's face who yelled in surprise. Hob kicked the man's legs out from under him and pummeled him upside the head with the hilt of his sword.

With his opponent crumpled and unmoving on the ground, Hob stood up and surveyed the scene.

Two of the knights were fighting two bandits each, keeping them a good distance away from the carriage, which Hob realized with a start was jostling rather violently, as if something was trying to break free.

The captain of the knights—as Hob could discern from the purple emblem on his breastplate—was engaged in battle with the bandit who seemed the most aggressive in his attempts to get to the carriage, barely seeming to mind the injuries he was receiving from the captain.

“Protect the carriage!” the captain barked a reminder in his high voice, pushing back against the bandit.

Hob rushed forward to help, but he had barely taken two steps when the carriage doors burst open once more, the locks flung away uselessly on the ground.

A figure stepped out, his fair skin near-glowing in the late morning sun. His black and purple robes whipped around him in the wind. The prince—for surely he must be one—joined the fight, and Hob watched as the tide turned before his eyes.

The prince wielded a sword as if it came as easily to him as breathing, his blue eyes blazing with a barely contained fury, his raven hair rippling in the wind. Immediately he felled two of the bandits with graceful flowing movements, and Hob snapped himself back to his senses enough to rejoin the fight.

Two knights had been incapacitated, leaving the only ones standing being the prince and the captain, with the latter battling two at once.

Hob ran to the captain's aid, but as he neared, the prince turned those blazing eyes to him, and a chill went down his spine.

The prince felled his opponent and began to attack Hob.

“Sire!” Hob said in surprise, jumping backwards and blocking the prince's slash. “Hold on— No— I'm—”

The prince didn't seem to hear him, their swords kept clashing against each other as Hob attempted to explain that he wasn't one of the bandits.

Hob didn't want to hurt the royal, but neither did he want to die while being mistaken as one of the scoundrels. He stopped merely defending himself and moved in to attack as well. A flicker of surprise appeared on the prince's face, but he met each of Hob's attacks with such force that Hob could barely catch his breath, much less form words to explain himself.

A pained cry from the captain made Hob glance in his direction, and he saw that one of the bandits had broken free from that fight and was now heading towards the unknowing prince, sword aimed at the back of his neck.

Hob stepped inward and blocked the prince's sword, and in the same movement grabbed the prince's arm and turned so that their positions were switched.

With his sword still blocking the prince's attack, he had nothing to block that of the bandit’s. Hob felt the blade sink into his arm, and he grunted through gritted teeth.

Before he could think of anything else, the prince had stepped between them and maneuvered the opponent onto the ground. He swung with the hilt of his sword and the bandit fell unconscious.

Hob clutched at his bleeding injury as he caught his breath. The bandit had nicked him on his sword arm, it would be a good several days before he'd be able to fight again.

“You locked me in the carriage?”

Hob glanced up to see that the prince was glowering at his captain.

The captain removed the helm of the armor and Hob was surprised to see a woman's face beneath.

“It was your father's order, sire. In the event of an attack, we would secure you in the carriage to prevent you being taken,” the captain explained.

The prince pursed his lips and shut his eyes momentarily before addressing his captain again. “I shall be the one to speak with him about this. Tend to the injured knights, make sure the coachmen are all right, and see to it that the attackers are put in the village dungeon to be kept alive,” he emphasised. “We will need information from them.”

The captain nodded. “Right away, my lord.”

“Thank you, Lucienne.” The prince spoke in a softer tone, and the tension seemed to ebb away from the both of them.

The captain smiled for a moment before bowing and walking away to carry out the orders.

Hob had been preoccupied with awkwardly sheathing his sword with his injured arm that he didn't notice the prince approach him until he was addressed.

“You are not one of them.”

The soft baritone voice caught Hob in such surprise that he almost forgot to reply.

“Aye. Robert Gadling, sire. Village patrol guard.” He showed the patch on his shirt.

Hob could hear the villagers helping the captain with the injured knights and the unconscious bandits, but his attention remained on the prince who had stepped towards him and pressed his own silk handkerchief on Hob's wound.

“You need not have come to my defence.” The prince's eyebrows were scrunched with worry, and his hand was holding down the handkerchief to apply pressure.

“Uh…” Hob's brain was still trying to catch up to the fact that a prince was helping tend to his wound. He reached up so he could hold the handkerchief himself. As the prince retracted his hand, their fingers brushed against each other, and Hob felt goosebumps form on his skin. “Just doing my job, sire,” he distractedly repeated the words he had said to Lushing Lou.

“Robert Gadling, it seems I owe you an apology.” The prince stood up straighter. “Please accept my invitation to the palace so that you may be checked by the royal physician.”

Hob blinked, wondering if he was mishearing things due to blood loss. “The palace…?”

The prince nodded. “Indeed. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Prince Morpheus Endeleas.” He tipped his head politely. “I have misjudged you and therefore I shall right my wrongs. Do you accept?”

Hob felt his mouth part. Morpheus? The Crown Prince Morpheus?

Everyone in the kingdom knew of the beauty of the royal family, but the tales did not do Prince Morpheus justice.

Hob never thought he would see a royal fight like the Crown Prince did; he had assumed that that was what the knights were for, but the way Prince Morpheus moved with such certainty and elegance was no less than awe-inspiring. And now he was looking at Hob with a gentleness that one would not have expected of the man who had broken the carriage doors open and proceeded to fight multiple attackers without missing a beat.

Prince Morpheus was beautiful both in fury and in peace.

Hob stared at him—at the ruffled raven hair, the fair cheekbones slightly flushed from exertion, those blue eyes which were ablaze mere minutes ago but now seemed like an inviting cloudless sky—and he knew that in this moment, he could not deny this man anything.

“Yes, sire,” he heard himself say. “I accept.”

Chapter Text

Prince Morpheus stared out at the passing scenery of trees and fields as they rode to the neighboring kingdom of Grecia. Since they were the ones who had locked him in, none of his knights had so much as mentioned the glaring fact that they were now traveling in a doorless carriage. 

He didn't want to make the hour-long trip back to the palace only to set out again for Castle Kardinef, so he had declared that they would continue on in the carriage as it was, and explain to the King and Queen of Grecia upon arrival the predicament that happened along the way. 

He had not said a word to Lucienne ever since leaving the village. He would always be grateful for her unwavering loyalty in remaining by his side, most especially today in the midst of the attack, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth how she had locked him in the carriage knowing what had happened last time he was locked in somewhere. 

He did not wish for his emotions to fester into resentment against Lucienne who was only following the King's orders as she always did, so he turned his thoughts elsewhere; namely, to Robert Gadling, the patrol guard whom he had mistaken for a bandit and who had ended up taking a sword for him. The guard was currently at the village infirmary, and they would be fetching him on the way back to the palace so that Morpheus would be able to keep his word and have the guard’s injuries be checked by Gilbert Greene, the royal physician. Morpheus was not proud of how his rage had blinded him into attacking the guard, and he would give proper compensation. 

Thanks to his mother's reminder for him to leave relatively early at breakfast, they reached Castle Kardinef just in time despite the delay. As Lucienne made the necessary arrangements and explanations about their carriage, Morpheus was escorted into the grand hall, his other knights following silently a few paces behind. 

They passed through several hallways until they reached the gates opening out into the gardens where the royals were seated at a table laden with fruits and sweets. 

“Ah, Prince Morpheus,” King Styrmir greeted him warmly as he approached them. 

“King Styrmir, Queen Reminara, Princess Calliope.” Morpheus bowed deeply. 

The royals stood up and returned the gesture. 

When Morpheus straightened up, he met Calliope's playful gaze with his own. They walked towards each other and embraced warmly, foregoing the formal pleasantries. 

“It has been a while, Morpheus,” Calliope said into his shoulder. 

“Weeks. Too many.” Morpheus agreed, holding her close. 

They released each other and smiled fondly. The duties of an heir kept the both of them preoccupied in their own kingdoms on most days, leaving little time for leisure, much less the luxury of going to another kingdom for a social visit. 

“It is an honor to have you in our home, Prince Morpheus,” Queen Reminara said. 

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty,” Morpheus tipped his head. 

“Please join us for some refreshments,” Queen Reminara gestured to the table in front of her. 

They talked amiably in the cool shade of trees as the sun rose higher in the sky. Morpheus told them about the attack of the bandits, reassuring them that no one was terribly hurt, but that he might need to borrow a carriage home. He did not elaborate on what exactly broke the doors of his, and only said that he did not want his mother to worry upon seeing him return in such a vehicle. 

Queen Reminara was appalled that such bandits would dare attack a royal carriage, while King Styrmir said that he would lend Morpheus one of their new carriages and two of his own knights for Morpheus’ trip home. 

Calliope looked over in worry at him, but she remained silent, knowing that her friend would always say he was all right in the presence of the King and Queen. 

After a while, Morpheus brought up the subject of the Summer Solstice Ball, as they were all aware that that was the main purpose of his visit. Morpheus’ parents had sent a letter a few days past, enclosed with invitations, but King Horatius insisted that Morpheus still invite them personally. He did not mind, as it gave him the opportunity to visit his closest childhood friend. 

When their plates were cleared away by the servants, the King and Queen rose. 

“Very well, we shall get in your way no longer. We are aware that you have not seen each other for nearly two months, you must have plenty to talk about,” King Styrmir said. 

“We look forward to seeing you at the ball, Prince Morpheus,” Queen Reminara smiled fondly. 

After her parents had gone, Calliope looked at Morpheus curiously from her seat across the table. “What's troubling you, Morpheus?”

“What? Nothing is troubling me,” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What did I say that would warrant such a question?”

Calliope gave him a soft smile. “We have known each other even before we could walk; I can tell when something is on your mind.”

Morpheus pursed his lips. There never was hiding anything from Calliope.

“Your face sours just a bit whenever the ball is mentioned. What duty has your father saddled you with now? Diplomats to attend to at the event?” Calliope asked. 

“Would that it were.” Morpheus sighed. “Father has been speaking to me about a betrothal as of late, and this morning he did not bother with subtleties.”

Calliope nodded in understanding. “My parents have brought up the subject with me as well, though they have not chosen a suitor. Has your father chosen a bride for you?”

“He expects me to begin looking for one at the ball, as if I could find anyone who would be remotely interesting in such an event,” Morpheus wrinkled his nose. The elite guests at most palace events—men and women alike—never passed up an opportunity to grab at the crown. They would preen themselves in front of the royals, shallow praises falling from their lips. He did not wish to choose a bride from such a selection. 

Calliope chuckled, all too familiar with how nobles behaved at royal gatherings. “Indeed. I suppose I'm lucky that my best friend is one of the few tolerable royals within a mile of the kingdom.”

Morpheus sat up straighter; something about that remark made the wheels turn in his head. Calliope was being readied for marriage as well, wasn't she? And they have always gotten along despite the disagreements they have faced throughout their years of friendship. 

“That is not a bad idea…” he narrowed his eyes in thought, a plan already forming in his mind. 

Calliope tilted her head. “What is?”

“What if you and I get married?” 

“What?” Calliope's eyes widened in surprise. 

“Consider it: We are both uninterested in finding actual spouses, we're dear friends and would not get sick of each other's company, we understand what the other likes and dislikes, and most importantly, our marriage would be beneficial to both our kingdoms, thus appeasing our families and preventing them from persuading us to marry complete strangers,” Morpheus explained. He couldn't believe he had never thought of it before. 

Calliope's expression changed into that of understanding, and her eyebrows furrowed as she considered it. “I see…”

“There is of course the matter of producing heirs, and I must admit that is where my plan becomes less detailed,” Morpheus said. He would never force anyone into such an activity, especially not Calliope.

His friend smiled in good-natured amusement. “I don't think that is something we have to worry about in the immediate future, and even after marriage we could always postpone it. If we do decide to proceed with your idea.”

“We could postpone the announcement as well, for as long as we can. Let us not tell our parents that we have decided to marry until they absolutely demand a spouse from either of us. How does that sound? And know that if you feel any discomfort towards the plan, I shall never bring it up again,” Morpheus said sincerely. He would sooner marry a gold-digging noblewoman than lose his friendship with Calliope. 

The princess sat in thoughtful silence for a long moment. “I think it's possible. Our kingdoms are right beside each other, it would be easy enough to rule over both of them, or even merge them into one if we so wish. Our parents would not be able to deny the advantages of such a union. It is almost a guarantee that they would agree, even if we do put off the announcement at a much later time.”

Morpheus smiled in relief. “I am glad that you find the plan agreeable. But even then, please do let me know should you ever change your mind; no matter the reason. I shall not harbor any grudges, and still treasure our friendship as much as I always have.”

Calliope returned his smile. “And do let me know as well should your mind ever change. It is entirely possible that you find someone to whom you would want to give your heart before we announce our intended betrothal.”

Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows in skepticism. “I cannot imagine such a thing happening.”

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Hob climbed in the carriage with Prince Morpheus and his knights. He could hardly believe he was being allowed to ride in such a fancy thing—a new one, with intact doors and a larger interior—and sat right next to the Crown Prince, no less. 

The Prince and his captain were amiable enough as they fetched Hob from the infirmary, though the former had stayed silent ever since the carriage embarked on the journey to the palace. 

Captain Lucienne was seated across from him, and Hob expressed his admiration on how she battled the bandits from the village. Once their conversation had started, the captain turned out to be much friendlier than Hob had initially thought. They began talking about swordfighting techniques and how they learned them. Hob sheepishly apologised and admitted that he thought she was a man at first. The captain just chuckled and said she was used to such first impressions. She had come from a long line of knights that served the Endeleas family, and she endeavored to continue the tradition despite how unorthodox a female knight appeared to be. 

Hob was fascinated and was about to ask how her family had reacted to her wanting to be a knight, but a commotion outside caught their attention. 

A small crowd had gathered on the streets, watching in concern as a nobleman ordered his guards to bodily drag an old woman and two children out of a house. 

The nobleman distinctly wore finery that made him appear as such, but the display of vulgarity he was showing as he yelled at the old woman did not befit that of a gentleman at all. The older of the two children–the older sister, it seemed, as the two looked quite similar–pulled her brother to the side of the road and away from the nobleman who continued with his tirade, something about the family unable to pay their rent on time. 

“Stop the carriage.” Prince Morpheus spoke for the first time since they began their journey. 

The coachmen promptly halted the horses and they stopped just across the house. 

Prince Morpheus gracefully exited the door and walked directly to the nobleman, Captain Lucienne right behind him. The other knights had gotten out of the carriage as well but kept their distance, standing guard near the horses. 

Hob wasn't certain where he should go, but his curiosity made him follow a few paces behind the captain. 

The nobleman raised a hand to strike the old woman, but Prince Morpheus grabbed his wrist and roughly pulled him backwards. 

“Who in hell’s—” the nobleman instantly turned pale when he saw at whom he had been snarling. “Your Highness!”

Prince Morpheus stepped between him and the old woman. “What is the reason for such undignified behavior in the middle of this town?” His voice was even, but there was no mistaking the anger in his eyes as he stared down the nobleman. 

“Th-They are two weeks behind on their rent, sire!” the man said defensively. 

“And you believe that hitting this woman would cause the money to appear before you?” 

“A man must keep a careful eye on his business, sire!” the nobleman had the audacity to puff out his chest. “Lest we starve and end up in the streets!”

Prince Morpheus looked at the man up and down, dressed in silks and adorned in more jewelry than the prince himself who was at present wearing no such accoutrements. 

“There is plenty to be said of a man who values gold on his person more than the lives of people on his property. However, there are children present so I shall not say any of them.” Prince Morpheus looked at Captain Lucienne. “Take this man to the town hall and explain to their governor his crimes. Say that the Crown Prince expects a letter detailing the progress of this man's punishment by tonight.”

“Yes, sire.” Captain Lucienne moved to hold the man by the arm, but he dropped to his knees and all but groveled at the prince. 

“Please, Your Highness! I only wanted what I was owed!”

A dark shadow seemed to pass over Prince Morpheus’ face, and his lips curled in disgust. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as a steel blade. 

“A man might need to keep a careful eye on his business, but a Crown Prince must be even more careful with his kingdom.” He nodded to Captain Lucienne, and she took the man away with help from the other knights. 

The crowd thinned significantly after that, the townspeople going elsewhere and retreating into their homes, reluctant to get caught in the Crown Prince’s stormy mood. 

But they needn't have worried, for Prince Morpheus turned to the old woman behind him with a soft expression that was a stark contrast to what he had worn mere moments ago. 

“My deepest apologies that this should happen in the kingdom that is supposed to protect you,” Prince Morpheus bowed to the woman, who looked flabbergasted at the gesture. “Might I extend an invitation for you and your children to stay at the palace until you get back on your feet? There is often much work to be done at my home, and I am sure they can find a job for you with a fine salary.”

The woman's eyes filled with tears. “Your Highness! I… I don't know what to say…”

Prince Morpheus gave a gentle smile. “I can send a carriage for you tomorrow morning, to give you time to pack your things and sort your affairs. Continue to stay in that house for tonight, and if anyone dares question you, present them this.” He produced a short length of blue ribbon from his pocket, affixed with a ruby engraved with a star–the Crown Prince’s symbol. “I shall speak with your governor and tell him to post guards at your gate.”

“Sire… Isn't this too much?” The woman stared in disbelief at the gem as she took it. “To stay at the palace…”

Prince Morpheus shook his head. “It is our job to ensure the well-being of our people, and it appears that we have done poorly for this town. That man must have done such despicable things for a long time now, and we were none the wiser. I assure you that we shall endeavor to make it right.”

The woman bowed deeply, and a smile brightened her face as she straightened back up. “You have our endless thanks, Your Highness. We shall not forget this.”

Prince Morpheus returned the smile. “May I have your name, my lady? That I might inform the palace of your arrival tomorrow.”

“Unity Kincaid, sire. And these are my grandchildren, Rose and Jed Walker,” she gestured to the two children standing several feet away. The sister was watching their interaction with cautious curiosity, while the younger brother hugged her and had his face turned away. They could not have been more than twelve years of age.

Prince Morpheus tipped his head politely at them before turning back to the woman. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Kincaid. Would that we had met under better circumstances. Nevertheless, I look forward to seeing you at the palace.” He bowed once more to her and left, paying no mind to the stares and whispers that followed his wake from the few people that remained. 

Hob could only stare as the prince walked past him and told Captain Lucienne—who had returned from the town hall—that they would continue on to the palace. 

The prince returned to the carriage, and Hob went up to Captain Lucienne. 

“Has he always been like that?” Hob couldn't keep the wonder out of his voice. Never before had he seen any nobleman or royal behave like how the Crown Prince just did. 

The pride captain smiled in fond amusement. “Not at all. He was quite the self-centered and temperamental prince. But he became much kinder after recovering from…” her expression sombered. “Anyway, he's doing much better now and we're all glad of it. Come along.” She led the way back to the carriage. 

Hob furrowed his eyebrows as he walked after Captain Lucienne. He tried to remember if he had heard any news of the prince falling into illness, but his village was far enough away from the capital that such news was not likely to have reached its people, especially if the royal family had intentionally kept it private. 

He couldn't help stealing glances at the prince beside him as they continued their journey. In the span of a few hours, he had seen such aspects of the Crown Prince that he had never expected of a royal. But even so, Prince Morpheus seemed to close himself off from everyone when he was not attending to his duties. Once more he was silent and still in the carriage, as if what had transpired in the town never did. 

Hob had always been too curious for his own good, and he was not about to stop now. Not when he was so close to this beautiful man who was as ferocious as he was kind. 

“Yes?” Prince Morpheus raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

Hob blinked, realizing that he had been caught staring. “Pardon me, Your Highness,” he ducked his head. “Just lost in thought.” 

Prince Morpheus looked out the window without another word. 

Hob sighed to himself. At this rate, it might take him a hundred years to get to know the Crown Prince. But he'll be damned if he didn't try. 

Chapter Text

Hob walked alongside Captain Lucienne across the palace gardens. As Prince Morpheus said, Hob was being led to be checked by the royal physician, though the prince himself had been immediately summoned by the King upon their arrival and had not been able to accompany them further.

They reached a two-storey cottage lined by trees and various plants and flowers on either side. In contrast to the intimidating large walls of the palace, this place felt more cozy and warm.

Captain Lucienne knocked on the door, and a tall portly man opened it.

“Lucienne!” his face brightened upon seeing the captain.

“Gilbert,” Lucienne returned the smile. “I've got a patient for you. Robert Gadling, a patrol guard from the village of Dramherth,” she nodded to Hob.

“Good day, sir,” Hob greeted him. “Just a little scrape, is all.”

“Come in, come in! And please, call me ‘Gilbert’.”

As they all entered the cottage, Gilbert told them to take a seat at a small round table to the side, though Captain Lucienne remained standing while Hob sat down.

“What happened there? Seems a bit more than a scrape to me,” Gilbert said as he prepared fresh bandages and a basin of clean water, looking in turn at Hob and the captain.

“He took a sword for Prince Morpheus. Bandit attack,” Captain Lucienne explained.

“Oh my! I do hope the prince is alright, seeing as you have not brought him here?” Gilbert asked in concern.

“He is,” Captain Lucienne nodded, though her features looked uneasy. “He had gotten a summons from King Horatius the moment we stepped out of the carriage.”

“Ah.” Gilbert’s face had a similar look of discomfort, though Hob wasn't certain why. “Then small wonder you have not taken a seat. You have to be there with the Crown Prince as soon as possible, correct?”

“The King would want to know the details of the attack,” Captain Lucienne explained.

“Away with you, then,” Gilbert said fondly with a wave of his hand as he placed the basin on the table. “And do send the dear boy my regards.”

“Of course. Robert,” Captain Lucienne tipped her head in farewell at him before going out the door.

“May I check your injury now, Mr. Gadling?” Gilbert asked politely, standing at Hob's side.

“Of course,” Hob straightened and gestured at his bandaged arm. “And it's just ‘Robert’. I already feel underdressed as it is,” he said humorously. He still had his simple undyed guard’s uniform, and walking along the pristine palace halls made him feel a bit like a weed in a rose garden.

Gilbert chuckled as he began to gently unwrap Hob's bandages. “The way you are dressed hardly matters, even less so considering why you are here in the first place! You have my deepest gratitude for saving Prince Morpheus’ life.” He set the bandages aside.

“Didn't look like he needed saving, really,” Hob said, recalling in his mind how the Crown Prince wielded the sword. “I don't think I've ever seen anyone fight like him.”

Gilbert smiled proudly. “He has worked hard to be so highly-skilled; sometimes a little too much, in the past year. I have told him that if he wanted my company, he could simply visit instead of training to the point of injury so frequently.” He shook his head and took a seat in another chair, looking closely at Hob's wound. “Your physician did well in treating this. I shall just apply some healing salve to ensure that it would not be infected.” He took a small bottle from the table and began to uncork it.

“You had to treat him frequently?” Hob wondered if that was what Captain Lucienne was talking about earlier; the prince being kinder after recovery. But it didn't make much sense why training injuries could inspire such a change in a person.

“Yes.” Gilbert’s voice held a certain weight, as if remembering something unpleasant. “Just once I would like to spend some time with the prince for leisure, not treatment.” He opened the bottle and began to apply the salve to Hob's wound; it felt cool to the skin.

“Did he often get injured in training?” Hob’s eyebrows furrowed.

Gilbert’s smile was kind, but there was a sadness in his eyes. “Prince Morpheus has been through much hardship, and I am happy to have aided him whenever I could.” He took some fresh bandages and began wrapping Hob's wound once more.

Hob pondered on that answer, deciding not to pry further on what was evidently a private matter.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Fruit juice?” Gilbert asked after he had tidied up the table.

“Water would be fine, thank you,” Hob nodded gratefully.

“I shall prepare a fruit plate as well,” Gilbert said as he disappeared into the next room. “The King would summon you soon, and one can never know how long that ceremony would take. Best not to have an empty stomach.”

“What? Ceremony?” Hob raised his voice slightly for Gilbert to hear him from what he assumed was the kitchen.

“You saved a royal's life, Robert. It is customary for them to give you some form of reward.” Gilbert returned with a glass of water and a small platter of various kinds of fruits. He sat down across from Hob and picked up an apple slice.

Hob furrowed his eyebrows. “If they're just paying me, what's the ceremony for?”

“I suppose we shall see, won't we?” Gilbert smiled and raised the apple slice as if in toast.

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“It was for your own protection.” The King's face was impassive as he looked down at Morpheus from his throne.

“What good is all the training I have done if you will lock me up at the first sign of an attack?” Morpheus did not intend to speak as loudly as he did. It was fortunate that this audience with his father was a private one; he did not wish to set a bad example in disrespecting the King.

“Your knights are there to fight for you, that is their function.”

“I should be fighting with them.” Morpheus dug his nails into his palms, willing away the images that surfaced in his mind from the last time his knights fought for him.

“You did, did you not? And a bandit’s sword would have run you through if not for that patrol guard you brought to Mr. Greene.”

“He distracted me. I would have fought the bandits perfectly well if he did not run into the fray out of nowhere.”

“You are saying that you were not able to differentiate your enemies from a civilian?”

Morpheus clenched his jaw and thought it wiser not to say anything.

“Your Majesty, if I may speak freely…” Lucienne’s voice beside him was tentative but steady. She had arrived just as Morpheus had been recounting the attack, and had given her own account of what had happened at the King’s behest.

“Yes, Lucienne?” the King arched an eyebrow at her.

“Lord Morpheus fought exceedingly well. I daresay that there may have been casualties among the knights had he not come to our aid. Apart from that, Lord Morpheus was the one who wanted to ensure that Mr. Gadling would be checked by Gilbert Greene. The welfare of his subjects takes priority for Lord Morpheus, inside and outside the battlefield, despite any distractions that may have happened.”

Morpheus tensed up at Lucienne’s words, not expecting such praise and not quite certain what to do with it. Everything he did was merely what should have been done by a Crown Prince, and yet it warmed his heart to see Lucienne speak to the King in such a blunt manner for his sake.

His father sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments, and when he spoke to Lucienne it was with significantly less reproach in his voice. “According to your recollection of the events, this Robert Gadling obtained his injury because he shielded Morpheus from a blade, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lucienne nodded.

The King turned to Morpheus. “And before that, you two had been engaged in combat? He held his ground against your attacks that were all intended to incapacitate him?”

“Yes, Father,” Morpheus answered. It seemed that the King was intent on reminding him that he had almost harmed a civilian.

“Very well.” The King leaned back on his throne. “As you are both aware, we must now reward Robert Gadling for saving the Crown Prince’s life. Lucienne, summon him and Mr. Greene. As well as the knights and the rest of my family.”

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Less than a half hour later, all of the invited had been gathered. Morpheus sat on his throne to his father’s right, while his mother and sisters sat on their thrones to the left. Lucienne stood with her other knights to Morpheus’ right, all in full armor except for their helms.

Robert Gadling stood in the middle of the room, shifting on his feet with visible awkwardness.

Such ceremonies had been held by generations of the royal family, and even the villages farthest from the kingdom are aware of the custom.

However, not many people know what to expect; the bestowing of royal gifts for honourable deeds was often a private matter, in order to dispel any notions of it being political pretense.

The last time that such a ceremony had happened was 14 summers ago, when Gilbert Greene had been gifted the title of nobility and the position of royal physician for saving Queen Twyla’s life from a dangerous childbirth, and in turn saving Princess Delysia as well.

“Robert Gadling of Dramherth,” the King began, his voice echoing across the throne room. “Today you have suffered an injury to stop a blade that would have robbed me of my son and the kingdom its heir. For this valiant and selfless act, a reward of great honor and privilege shall be bestowed upon you.” He rose from his throne and took a step forward, drawing the sword from the scabbard at his hip. “Kneel and accept your knighthood, and become part of the Crown Prince’s royal guard.”

Morpheus frowned before he could stop such an expression forming on his face in public. The knighthood was hardly a surprise; the patrol guard was good with a blade, it was to be expected that the King would gift him a fighter’s position. But to be in his personal royal guard? He did not lack for knights, and it would have made more sense to add to the roster of main guards, seeing as there was an upcoming ball and the palace would need to be better guarded from outsiders.

Gadling himself looked far more surprised; his eyes had grown wide, and all traces of awkwardness from his demeanor seemed to have dissipated from the shock. “A knighthood, Your Majesty? Forgive my contradiction, but I am not certain that one short battle should qualify me for such an esteemed position. I only managed to defeat one of the bandits, and it was Prince Morpheus who incapacitated his attacker in the end.”

If the note of wonder in Gadling’s voice at his last remark did not already catch Morpheus’ attention, the awed gaze certainly would have. Oftentimes even his own knights would not meet his eyes, but Gadling did not turn away even when Morpheus looked right at him.

“My son is undoubtedly one of the best swordsmen that this palace had ever seen,” the King continued, and Morpheus turned to him in surprise. His father had never complimented him on his swordfighting before. “And not only did you defend yourself well from his attacks, you managed to do so without causing harm to his person. You are a skillful fighter with a calm head on your shoulders that does not get carried away in the heat of battle; you would make a most capable knight to stand by the Crown Prince’s side.”

Morpheus felt dread creep up within his chest; he was beginning to understand where his father was going with this whole ceremony. He may have gotten his father to agree never to lock him in anywhere again, but this was yet another obstruction to his freedom under the guise of a king’s generous reward.

No matter. Save for Lucienne, none of his knights ever seemed entirely comfortable in his presence. Robert Gadling would soon grow weary of being by his side, and it would be easy enough to convince him to be a knight for one of his sisters instead, or even be part of the main palace guard.

“Step forward, Robert Gadling, and swear your fealty,” his father continued.

Gadling had been staring in disbelief at the King, but he gathered himself enough to walk over and bend the knee, bowing his head respectfully.

The King touched the flat of his blade to Gadling’s right shoulder. “As King Horatius of House Endeleas, I hereby bestow upon you, Robert Galding of Dramherth, the land and wealth entitled to a knight of your status. In return, do you swear never to commit outrage or murder, always to flee treason, give mercy to those who ask for it, upon pain of the forfeiture of your honor and status as a knight of Crown Prince Morpheus forevermore?”

“I swear,” Gadling said, eyes still cast to the ground.

The King lifted his sword and placed it on Gadling’s other shoulder. “I therefore charge you always to help ladies, damsels, gentlewomen, and widows, never to commit rape, upon pain of death. Nor should you take up your sword in a wrongful quarrel–not for love, nor for any worldly goods.” He placed the blade back on Gadling’s right shoulder. “Do you swear loyalty to Crown Prince Morpheus Endeleas, and to keep him away from all harm to the fullest extension of your abilities?”

Morpheus had been making plans in his mind on how to dissuade Robert Gadling from being his personal guard, but his thoughts halted when he saw the man's eyes lift up to meet his.

“I swear loyalty to Crown Prince Morpheus Endeleas.” There was such earnest determination in Gadling’s unwavering gaze, and Morpheus found himself unable to look away. “And to keep him away from all harm, to the fullest extension of my abilities.”

Something about the way Gadling said the words made Morpheus feel as if they were the only two people in the room, and the oath a sentiment solely for him instead of a pre-written text for formality.

Morpheus averted his eyes and straightened his posture even more on his throne, ignoring the warmth that bloomed in his chest and rose to his cheeks.

Though try as he might, he could not recall the plans he had in mind for sending Robert Gadling away.

Chapter Text

Hob unlocked the door to his house and pushed, shoving it with his shoulder a few times before it finally budged. The front door often got stuck because the wood had expanded after a few rainy seasons, but Hob always said that it just meant better security against thieves.

He stepped in and took a moment to look around the place. Now that he had been assigned as the Crown Prince’s personal guard—which he still couldn't quite believe—he was required to live on the palace grounds starting tomorrow. Certainly these meager lodgings wouldn’t compare to the luxuries of the palace, but it had always been his home.

“Father?” a voice said behind him. “You’re here early.”

Hob turned around to see a young lad standing by the doorway. “Robyn,” he grinned. “How was school?”

Robyn shrugged before walking in and placing his bag on the table. “We just learned our letters like usual, and Miss Gault has been teaching us enough arithmetic to get by at the market, but I can already do that.” He headed to the small corner that served as their kitchen and opened the pot. “Have you had supper yet? There is still some leftover stew from this morning.”

Hob sighed. In a fair world, a boy who was merely eleven summers old would be playing outside with the other children instead of being well-versed in haggling at the market and worrying about his father’s meals.

“They fed me at the palace, don’t worry.”

The lid dropped onto the pot loudly as Robyn startled. “The palace?” He looked at Hob with wide eyes. “Did you get in trouble?”

Hob chuckled and shook his head. “No nothing like that, don't worry.” He gestured to the table. “Sit with me a while, I’ve got to tell you about the day I’ve had.”

Robyn still looked surprised and confused, but he sat across from Hob at the table, ready to listen as always.

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The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the palace, reflecting off the large windows and coloring the gardens a soft orange.

Morpheus barely noticed any of it as he made his way across the grounds with only one destination in mind. Word had spread of the bandit attack yesterday, and the palace had been a flurry of activity between doubling security measures and sending and receiving messengers from nearby villages to ensure that there were no more plans to attack the royals. He wanted some time to himself before the arrival of the new knight today.

“Your Highness!”

Morpheus saw that Corinth and Lucienne were coming towards him, and he reluctantly stopped walking; they seemed to have been engaged in conversation before they saw him and decided to call his attention.

“Your Highness,” Corinth repeated once they were all facing each other. “I hope I am not interrupting. I had been voicing my concerns to Captain Lucienne, and perhaps it would be best for you to hear them as well.” His one good eye looked to Lucienne, his eyepatch making his expression seem more somber.

Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“Corinth is wary of the recent developments here in the palace,” Lucienne said.

“Speak freely, both of you.” Morpheus did not have the patience for their dancing around the point.

“I don’t trust that Robert Gadling, sire,” Corinth said with a scowl. “We have known him for less than a day and yet he would be near you at all times?” He shook his head. “It’s not my place to question the King’s decisions, but considering the bandit attack, we should not be so quick to let people be so close to you. And he's still injured besides. How will he be able to defend you in his current state?”

“The other knights will still accompany Sir Gadling should Prince Morpheus need to venture outside the palace,” Lucienne explained.

“And I am perfectly capable of defending myself should anything happen,” Morpheus said evenly, though it crossed his mind that it had been quite a challenging swordfight with Gadling. “Nevertheless, Gadling will not be staying long.”

“What do you mean, my lord?” Lucienne asked.

“I mean that I do not need a nursemaid,” Morpheus said with an edge to his voice. “Now, leave me be as I figure out how to tell my father that.”

Before he could turn to leave, however, another voice spoke up.

“Captain Lucienne.” Gadling was walking towards them with that easy smile of his. “I was told to look for you, I’m supposed to start today.” He tipped his head towards Morpheus and Corinth. “My lord. Sir.”

“Corinth. Prince Morpheus’ personal guard until last year,” Corinth introduced himself pointedly.

Gadling’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments. “Ah. Maybe I could learn a few things from you, then?”

Corinth’s gaze was unmistakably disapproving, but Lucienne answered first.

“Of course, you’ll be learning from all the knights here, Robert,” she said amiably.

“Excellent,” Morpheus said in an even tone, far from pleased about being waylaid by three people. “You all can focus on training, and I shall be on my way.” He turned and promptly left the situation.

“Sir Gadling,” Lucienne’s voice said behind him. “You start today, correct? Do follow Prince Morpheus wherever it is he is headed.”

Morpheus stopped in his tracks and faced them again. “I do not need to be accompanied around my own palace.”

“Sir Gadling needs to familiarize himself with the palace, my lord,” Lucienne gently pointed out. “And it would be good training for him to keep watch over you in a safe place before he accompanies you on your travels.”

“I do not need to be watched over, whether inside or outside the palace.” Morpheus didn’t bother to hide the disdain in his voice, and in fact enhanced it.

“I won’t get in the way, my lord.” Gadling seemed unfazed. “You’ll hardly know I’m there.”

Corinth scoffed but didn’t say anything, which was rude behavior that Morpheus realized he could take inspiration from.

He turned and walked away without so much as a glance at any of them even when he heard hurried footsteps following him.

True to his word, Gadling kept a few feet of distance between them and never spoke once the entire time that Morpheus made his way up the staircase leading to the western tower.

The view opened up to the hills in the distance, now awash with a golden glow as the sun steadily set. Morpheus often went here to be alone, and having someone else with him felt like an itch at the back of his head.

“You do not need to be here, you know.” Morpheus kept his eyes on the horizon, his hands clasped behind his back. “Regardless of what Lucienne said. Get settled in your new lodgings and you can start on your job tomorrow.”

“Oh I’ve already done that, my lord. Settled in nice and proper.”

“Go away, Robert Gadling,” Morpheus said bluntly. That often worked with his other knights, even Lucienne.

For a long moment there was only silence, and Morpheus began to think that Gadling’s footsteps were just so silent that he couldn’t be heard leaving.

“If I may be so bold, my lord…”

Ah. No such luck.

“I interfered during the attack earlier because it looked like your knights needed help, and I was on duty as a guard besides. I didn’t mean to get in the way, and I apologize for being a distraction enough that one of the bandits almost struck you.”

This gave Morpheus pause and he halfway glanced over his shoulder to the man behind him. “You were struck instead because you shielded me, and you apologise for it?” His surprise made him momentarily forget his goal of making Gadling leave.

“You wouldn’t have had your back turned to him if it wasn’t for me. And isn’t that… why you’re upset…?” Gadling said uncertainly.

No. But the entire truth of why Morpheus was upset was not something that other people liked to hear, and even though he was endeavoring to make Gadling uncomfortable enough to the point of leaving him alone, he owed the new knight no such information.

Morpheus faced Gadling and spoke with all the arrogance he could muster. “Your presence upsets me. Is that not reason enough to leave?”

He had expected Gadling at the very least to avert his eyes—whether out of deference or disdain, it really made no difference—but the man met his gaze and merely looked confused.

“Why? Is it because I’m new? Well that’s why we’re here, eh? So that I may earn your trust.”

Morpheus stared. The other knights never questioned him, especially when he spoke to them in such a tone. They certainly have never given him the easy and confident smile that Gadling was showing him now.

The flap of wings made them glance up, and two ravens perched on the ledge of the tower, beady eyes looking at them.

Morpheus felt the tension leave his shoulders at the sight. He reached over and stroked the back of the larger raven with a spot of brilliant white on her breast.

“Hello, Jessamy. I trust you’ve both had a pleasant day?”

Jessamy cawed in response, while the smaller bird with entirely black feathers hopped closer and nipped at his hand.

“I have no food for you, Matthew,” Morpheus said as he scratched the smaller bird’s chin. “Are they starving you at the ravenry?”

Matthew flapped his wings and decided to land on his usual perch at Morpheus’ shoulder.

“Flattery or no, I still have nothing to give you,” Morpheus chided him.

Then he realized that Gadling had a look of surprise on his face. He had almost forgotten that the man was there.

“These are Matthew and Jessamy,” Morpheus introduced the ravens who cawed at the mention of their names. “The most loyal creatures in all the kingdoms.”

Matthew hopped off Morpheus’ shoulder and flapped his wings, flying to Hob and circling above, black eyes regarding him. Jessamy took her perch on Morpheus’ other shoulder and nipped at his hair affectionately.

“And does Matthew always look so judgemental?” Gadling said in a playful voice as Matthew flew another circle above his head before flying back to the ledge.

“He is wary of new people.”

The ravens took flight and circled above them before cawing and flying away, no doubt to return to the ravenry for a night’s rest.

Morpheus watched them until they flew out of his sight, and he noticed that the sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills. It would be time for supper soon, and his father did not appreciate tardiness.

He did not get the solitude he wished to get from his time at the tower, but nevertheless he was glad to see Matthew and Jessamy.

“I shall retire to my chambers and prepare for supper,” Morpheus said as he walked past Gadling and down the staircase. “You should go and be acquainted with the other knights, I imagine you’ll be expected to join them later in standing guard outside the dining hall.”

“Of course, my lord. I shall join them after I walk you to your chambers.” Gadling kept the distance between them, following several paces behind.

Morpheus huffed in exasperation. “I know the way to my own chambers.”

“But I don’t, and I think I should in case there is ever an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency could possibly require you to head to my room?” Morpheus frowned.

“If there is suddenly a fire and the palace needed to evacuate, for example,” Gadling said casually. “I’d be expected to get you immediately and escort you outside.”

Morpheus sighed and said nothing, opting to use his energy instead to think of other means to shake off this new knight.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════

Hob stared thoughtfully at Prince Morpheus as they made their way down the staircase and across the palace grounds.

While he and Robyn were moving in earlier, he had met some of the knights and they had warned him of the Crown Prince’s temperament, expressing that they did not envy his post.

Prince Morpheus certainly seemed far from amiable ever since Hob had arrived, but he had also seen how the prince handled the situation with the nobleman at the village, and how he interacted with his ravens. It was the first time Hob had seen the prince smile, and he wondered how it would feel for the prince to gaze at him as fondly as he did his ravens.

Hob blinked and shook his head to clear it, grateful that the prince couldn’t see him do so. He was not in any position to wish that the Crown Prince would look at him in such a way. As it were, the prince hardly looked at him at all.

Though he could not help but remember how the prince had met his gaze when he was on his knee and swearing the Knight’s Oath. Those bright blue eyes trained on him nearly made him forget the words, and the slight flush that tinged the prince’s cheekbones before he looked away was endearing, though Hob would never say it aloud. He didn’t imagine that the prince would appreciate it.

Prince Morpheus must have felt caught off-guard when Hob repeated the last words of the oath instead of just answering with ‘I swear’ like he was expected to, but it felt right to actually say the words. He meant every one of them.

“My chambers are just upstairs, the one with the ruby set on the handle,” Prince Morpheus’ voice interrupted his train of thought while they were walking along the corridors. “You may leave now.”

“Oh it's alright, my lord. I can accompany you the entire way.”

The prince turned to face him so abruptly that Hob nearly ran into him and had to stumble a few steps back.

“And did it never occur to you that it might not be alright with me?” he arched an imperious eyebrow.

“My lord, if I had done you any wrong I—”

“You have been a knight for naught but a few hours, and surely you have not forgotten where you came from? Your impertinence in ignoring the orders of one such as I has gone on for too long. I do not wish to be seen with you, no matter what my father said. I do not appreciate being associated with commoners in my own palace. Leave me be and go bother someone more befitting of your station.”

Hob blinked in surprise. Despite the prince’s reluctance about their new situation, Hob hadn’t expected such resentful words. Yet something didn’t feel quite right. The prince’s glare was sharp and his words venomous, but it didn’t seem like him. Not that Hob had known him for long enough to—

“Ow!” a little boy had appeared from around the corner and ran right into the Crown Prince.

Prince Morpheus caught the boy by the shoulders to stop him from falling over.

The boy glanced up and Hob recognized him as one of Unity Kincaid’s grandchildren from the village.

“Your Highness!” The boy paled and bowed so low he almost tripped over his own feet. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” He shifted on his feet and tensed up as if he expected to be hit or yelled at, and he flinched when Prince Morpheus made to put a hand on his shoulder once more.

The prince withdrew his hand immediately and instead asked in a gentle voice, “Are you alright? You are Jed Walker, yes? What has frightened you so?”

The boy—Jed—looked at Prince Morpheus and Hob uncertainly, seeming unable to speak.

“Come along,” Prince Morpheus went to a wooden bench against the wall and sat down, gesturing for Jed to do the same. “Is something the matter?”

Jed stood in his place for a few moments before hesitantly sitting beside the Crown Prince, putting as much space between them as possible. “They brought us to our new room, Rose and I. They were talking about a new school, and how we live here now, and I tried telling the servants I didn’t want to change into the new clothes, but they didn’t listen, and Rose began to argue with them…” he fidgeted with his hands.

“Has anyone treated you poorly?” the prince’s voice was dangerously quiet.

“No, Your Highness!” Jed said hurriedly, shaking his head, looking afraid that he might have said something to offend. “They were all kind. It’s just that… the room is so big. And the windows open out into the garden where the trees cast long shadows on the wall, and I don’t know anyone here, and I don’t know how I’d be able to sleep with the ceiling so high up, and what if I run into the king and—” the boy seemed to catch himself and stopped talking, looking down shamefully as his eyes turned misty. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “I know I should be grateful for us even being here.”

Prince Morpheus looked at Jed for a moment, and Hob was starting to think that perhaps he should bring the boy back to his sister before the prince let loose his temper on him.

“Do you know the tale of the Sandman?” the prince asked in the same gentle voice, far from the tone he had used when speaking to Hob just mere minutes ago.

Jed glanced up at the prince with the look of someone trying to jog their memory. “He… he puts us to sleep, right? That’s what he is, the god of sleep?”

“The god of dreams,” Prince Morpheus said with a small smile. “When we retire to our beds at night, he lets us into his realm where we might take comfort in pleasant dreams after a harrowing day.”

Jed frowned. “Then… what about nightmares?”

“They allow us to face our fears where no one would be around to judge us on how we do so. Dreams give us joy and comfort, while nightmares help us gain the courage we need in facing whatever the next day throws in our path. It is much easier to practice when no one else is looking, is it not?” the prince leaned forward conspiratorially as if he was sharing a secret.

Jed seemed to relax a bit, smiling. “But only the Sandman’s magic sand could cause special dreams, right? And I don’t think he could visit everyone in a single night, that seems impossible,” he furrowed his eyebrows skeptically.

Prince Morpheus reached into a pocket of his robes and brought out a small glass bottle, hardly bigger than his palm and containing layers of multicolored sand.

“This is but a little of the Sandman’s magic, but it should be enough to keep you safe in his realm. Place it by your bedside and you shall have a restful sleep.” Prince Morpheus held out the bottle to Jed.

The boy looked too stunned to take it, then he stared at the prince with a look of awed realisation. “You're the Sandman,” he breathed. “My nan said that the Sandman's name is Morpheus…”

Prince Morpheus gave a secretive smile and put a finger to his lips before winking. “Do not tell anyone. I would not like unnecessary attention.”

Jed grinned and nodded enthusiastically before taking the bottle. “Yes, Your Highness, thank you.”

“Why don’t you return to your sister now? I am sure she must be worried about you.”

The boy nodded and ran off in the direction he came from, clutching the bottle to his chest.

Prince Morpheus stood up and his eyes fell on Hob; he immediately tensed and straightened his posture. “The Queen of Grecia gave me the sand this morning when I visited; she acquired it on their travels a month past.” His voice was even and formal again.

Hob had to take a moment to process what had just happened, how quickly the prince had turned from scorning him and his status to going out of his way to help a child whom he barely knew. “It was a queen’s gift, and you just gave it away.”

“I believe Jed would find it more useful than I ever would.”

“You remembered his name immediately; even I had forgotten it.”

Prince Morpheus frowned impatiently. “What is your point?”

Hob could feel himself smiling and he didn’t bother to stop it. “Oh not much, my lord. Just surprised you remembered a commoner’s name, is all.”

The prince’s frown deepened as a flush colored his face, but he looked far from angry, more like someone who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

Hob didn’t know why the Crown Prince had been pretending to be nasty to drive him away, but he knew that it was not the time to ask. Instead he allowed himself to grin. “Shall I have the corridors be swept free of dust before they are graced with the presence of one such as you? Or perhaps fetch you your crown so that you may walk around wearing gold as befits your station? How about a scepter? I’m sure the smiths would be happy to make you a shiny one.”

The prince turned and walked away, but not before Hob caught a glimpse of the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile, his blue eyes bright with amusement.

Hob promptly followed, determined to see that smile again and feeling a warmth in his chest at the thought that he caused it.

Chapter Text

Hob grunted as Corinth’s blade struck him in the stomach. They were both wearing a full suit of armor for this training session so Hob could get used to the weight of it, and still he could feel bruises forming from the other knight’s hits. He took a step backwards and managed to parry his opponent’s sword just in time before it could land in the chink in his armor where the chestplate met the helm.

A sudden slash on his thigh nearly made him stumble, the ring of steel against metal echoing in the air. He cursed under his breath as Corinth kept rounding on him, forcing him to keep moving backwards.

“Come on, Gadling!” Corinth said impatiently from under his helm. “Is that the best you can do? You cannot protect our prince like this!”

Hob wanted to point out that he had successfully protected the prince just three days ago, but he had backed away into a tree and had to sidestep just as Corinth’s sword slashed the place where his head had been, carving a dent onto the trunk.

He scrambled away and Corinth came after him without missing a beat.

Hob tried for an attack, but Corinth managed to lock their blades together, and the next thing Hob knew his feet had been tripped out from under him and the world was spinning.

He gasped out a grunt as he fell hard on the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs and his skull rattling in his helm.

When his eyes refocused, he saw the point of Corinth’s blade aimed at his eyeball.

“And you claim yourself fit to defend the Crown Prince?” Corinth said. “You cannot even protect yourself against a half-blind man.”

“I don't claim anything, Sir Corinth. And I would be honored to learn more from you,” Hob said sincerely. He had encountered and even worked with people who had worse temperaments from his days as a bandit; he didn't overly mind Corinth’s rather aggressive training sessions. His injured arm pulsed with pain, but he didn't dare complain about it after he had already agreed to start training immediately.

Corinth scoffed and drew his sword back. “Good, because you have a long way to go. We train at the same time tomorrow. Do try to stay on your feet.” He sheathed his sword and left without another glance.

Hob got to his feet a little unsteadily—the weight of the armor was really something to get used to—and took off his helm, immediately feeling refreshed by the cool morning breeze.

“Are you all right, Rob?” Hector, one of his fellow knights, approached him, with Kenneth by his side.

The knights did training exercises every morning in the palace grounds, though Hob seldom joined them since he had been preoccupied with getting special sparring lessons from Corinth. Captain Lucienne thought it proper that Hob should be taught by the former personal guard of the Crown Prince, and after experiencing firsthand how well Corinth could fight, Hob had no room to doubt the captain's decision.

“I'm fine. I don't think Sir Corinth’s a morning person, though,” Hob scrunched up his nose humorously.

“I'd wager he has a grudge on you, taking what he lost,” Kenneth said.

“But everyone knows it's not your fault he lost his position, so don't worry about it too much,” Hector added.

“Why did he lose this position?” Hob asked curiously, unsure if he was even allowed to know. “What does it take to get sacked from being a personal guard?” he hoped his tone came across as casual instead of worried.

Hector and Kenneth exchanged glances, and it was Kenneth who replied. “We think he showed romantic interest in the prince. And the King found out. He's lucky he's still a knight, and maintained his rank besides.”

Hob felt something that seemed awfully like dread turn in his stomach. “Showed romantic interest? How so?”

Hector smiled sheepishly. “We don't know the details, and we're not even sure if that's really the reason. It's just rumors, you know?”

“I don't know if I've heard any rumors,” Hob said as they all started to return indoors.

“From what I heard, a year ago Captain Lucienne and Sir Corinth accompanied Prince Morpheus on a trip somewhere, but within the day both of them returned, without the prince,” Kenneth began. “They spoke to the King and Queen, and the whole palace seemed tense after that. Sir Corinth disappeared for a few weeks, returned with an eyepatch and a mood sour enough to curdle milk. Captain Lucienne never explained anything, just that Prince Morpheus had gone on a ship overseas for a diplomatic trip, and that Sir Corinth had been unwell.”

“How did he lose his eye?” Hob asked. He always thought it was from battle.

“He said he got robbed,” Hector replied. “Happened while he was staying at his village recovering from whatever ailment they said he had.”

“The other knights think it got cut out in some tavern brawl,” Kenneth added. “Hard to imagine anyone blinding Sir Corinth like that while he's sober.”

With fresh bruises all over him, Hob was inclined to agree. Corinth acknowledged being half-blind, but Hob might as well had been fighting three men in that training session.

“And how was the prince?” Hob asked. “He didn't mind not having a personal guard anymore?” He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. After Hob had called Prince Morpheus on his bluff about pretending to be an arrogant sod just to push him away, the prince hadn't made any similar attempts. Though he still didn't seem happy to have a knight follow him around.

“Prince Morpheus didn't return for about four months,” Hector replied. “And when he did, he had locked himself in his chambers for a long time, with only Captain Lucienne bringing him food and the King and Queen permitted to visit. After that, he began training with the sword. Captain Lucienne and Sir Corinth personally taught him, and we'd never seen anyone train so relentlessly.”

“Looked like heartbreak to me,” Kenneth said.

Hector made a pained expression but didn't say anything.

“What?” Kenneth demanded. “You know how some blokes drink their arses off after a coupling ends badly, and others throw themselves into their work. If the Crown Prince had similar romantic feelings for Sir Corinth but the King forbade it, then of course he'd want to distract himself.”

“And why would he still train with Sir Corinth if he wanted to stop thinking about him?” Hector pointed out.

“It's still a way for them to spend time together,” Kenneth shrugged.

The conversation changed into their duties for that day, but Hob was only partly listening.

Kenneth’s story didn't explain everything, like why the prince took four months to return from a diplomatic trip—though it could be that the other kingdom was simply that far away. And why did he lock himself in his room when he returned, only to emerge wanting to learn combat? The prince didn't strike Hob as the type to deal with heartbreak in such a manner, and he didn't seem to treat Sir Corinth any differently than the other knights.

Still, a particular worry nagged at the back of Hob's mind. The possibility that expressing romantic affection for the prince could cause so much trouble…

It was fortunate that Hob felt no such interest for him. Certainly Prince Morpheus was good to his subjects, kind to children, an engaging storyteller, and was an absolute vision on the battlefield with his robe billowing about him and his blue eyes ablaze. And the amused smile that Hob had managed to coax out of him after their encounter with Jed Walker, well, it might have made Hob's stomach flip in a not unpleasant manner, but that hardly meant anything.

Hob swallowed. It's going to be fine.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════ 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Prince Morpheus said upon seeing Hob standing guard outside his chambers. He turned away to get back inside, leaving the door open.

Hob blinked. In his three days of being the Crown Prince’s personal guard, the prince had never once expressed in words or actions that it was good to see him.

The outer part of the prince’s chambers was a study, furnished with a desk, chair, and a large window to let in natural light. Prince Morpheus went to the desk and picked up a stack of books.

“I need you to return these to the library.” He handed Hob the surprisingly heavy stack.

Hob carefully balanced it in his arms and tilted his head to the side to be able to see the prince past the books obscuring his vision. “I’m supposed to accompany you to breakfast, Your Highness.”

Prince Morpheus arched an eyebrow. “I think I can manage to find the dining hall in my own home. You may stand guard outside the doors with the other knights after you’ve returned those books.” He closed his chamber door and walked past Hob and down the corridor.

Hob furrowed his eyebrows as he headed in the opposite direction. Could Prince Morpheus be resuming his facade of being unpleasant? Though he must know that Hob would see through it. Perhaps he was simply out of sorts today and wanted to be left alone more than usual.

Captain Lucienne was perusing books in the library when Hob arrived. “Robert? Aren’t you supposed to be with the Crown Prince?”

“Yes, Captain, but he told me to return these first.” Hob set the books down on a table and looked at the labels on the spine to see which shelf he should return each one.

“That’s odd. I wonder why he wanted that done first thing in the morning,” Captain Lucienne said from where she was standing by a shelf. She was wearing the simple chainmail over her clothes instead of a full armor in which Hob had gotten used to seeing her.

“You know him better than I do,” Hob gave a half shrug as he returned the books to their proper places. “Regardless, I shall return to my post now.” He smiled and tipped his head respectfully before heading out of the library.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════ 

“Sir Gadling.” Prince Morpheus opened his chamber door.

“Your Highness?” Hob stood up straighter from leaning against the wall.

“Bring me some food. Whatever bread and refreshments the kitchen can spare.”

The prince had retired to his chambers after breakfast and had remained there since, opting out of joining the rest of his family for lunch on account of being busy working on something, so the order was hardly a surprise. Still, Hob wanted to say that he wasn’t supposed to leave the prince unguarded, but he also knew that part of his job was to follow the prince’s orders. Before he could voice out any of his thoughts, the prince retreated once more into his room and firmly shut the door.

Hob sighed and quickly made his way to the kitchen. He should probably ask Captain Lucienne later about what he should do in such conflicting situations.

Fortunately, the kitchen staff already knew Hob, and even though they were too polite to say it, he knew they pitied him for his position. They quickly assembled a bread and cheese platter and iced fruit juice on a tray for Hob to bring back.

It was quite the challenge to climb up the stairs as fast as he could—he didn’t want to be away from his post for too long—while balancing the pitcher and goblet on the tray, but Hob managed. He also gained a new level of respect for servants who had to do this sort of thing every day.

“Good day, Sir Gadling.”

Hob glanced up from his focused gaze on the tray to see Princess Thana walking down the corridor towards him. He stopped walking and nodded. “Your Highness. Forgive me for not bowing properly, I dare not spill any of these for Prince Morpheus.”

“Why are you the one bringing him that? Were there no servants available?” the princess asked doubtfully.

“I’m not entirely sure, Your Highness,” Hob smiled apologetically. “But the prince specifically asked me to bring this to him, and he did not seem in the mood to be contradicted.”

“He is rarely in the mood for anything. Very well, I shall walk with you. I must speak with my brother about some things.”

They made the short walk together to the prince’s chambers in relatively comfortable silence. When Hob tried to balance the tray on his knee somehow to have a free hand with which to knock on the prince’s door, Princess Thana chuckled good-naturedly and just knocked on the door herself.

The door opened and the prince appeared. “Good, you’re back. I need my riding boots cleaned—” he suddenly noticed the princess standing right beside Hob.

“Hello, brother,” Princess Thana said. “I see you’ve been giving your knight errands. Did you find fault with our servants?”

Prince Morpheus seemed to tense up. “It’s his job to make sure I am unharmed, yes? That includes making sure my food isn’t poisoned.”

“As well as cleaning your riding boots?”

“I wish to go horseback riding before nightfall.”

The siblings seemed to stare down each other, and Hob uncomfortably shifted on his feet.

“You heard the Crown Prince, Sir Gadling,” Princess Thana said without taking her pointed gaze off her brother. “He wishes to go riding. The servants at the stables would know where his boots are.”

Prince Morpheus wordlessly took the tray from Hob and went inside his chambers, promptly followed by his sister who closed the door behind her.

The princess had reiterated Prince Morpheus’ order to leave his post, so Hob made his way to the stables, not keen on staying to hear the siblings possibly have an argument, though he wasn’t sure what about.

He had the sense that Prince Morpheus was sending him on all these tasks to get rid of him even for a short while, maybe even hoping that Hob would tire of it all and quit being his guard. But it would take more than a day of walking around for him to give up, especially after seeing Prince Morpheus be intimidated by his older sister.

Hob smiled to himself. Every new side of Prince Morpheus that he glimpsed gave him a sense of accomplishment.

Then Kenneth’s words about Corinth came back to him.

“We think he showed romantic interest in the prince… the King found out. He's lucky he's still a knight…”

The smile melted off Hob’s face.

But no, there was nothing to worry about. His interest in the Crown Prince was far from romantic; he was just curious, that was all. He wasn’t even hoping for a friendship with the prince, much less… something beyond that.

He would never do anything that could jeopardize his position as a knight. Not when Robyn was finally getting the good life he deserved.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════ 

“What grievance do you have with Robert Gadling?” Thana demanded.

“I have told you, as well as Mother and Father, many times that I do not want another personal guard,” Morpheus said.

Thana sighed, giving him that pitying look he had often received from his family since his return from Duke Burgess’ prison. “You know why your security is important to Father. He just wants you safe, we all do.”

“I can keep myself safe,” Morpheus said through gritted teeth. “I fight better than most of the knights, better than Robert Gadling. I don’t need any of them.”

“But you shouldn’t have to fight all by yourself,” Thana pointed out. “I heard that Corinth himself is training Robert—”

“I do not want another Corinth!”

Thana looked taken aback, and Morpheus could only stare at her as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

“He nearly lost his sight because of me, Thana…” Morpheus said quietly, suddenly feeling tired. “He did not deserve that. And I will not have anyone else be harmed for my sake.” Especially not Robert Gadling, Morpheus nearly added, remembering the knight’s brown eyes that only ever looked at him with warmth, the easy smile that he carried even as he realized that Morpheus was trying to drive him away on purpose. He would never let that smile be taken away from Gadling, like how it was so cruelly taken from Corinth.

“Morpheus…”

He turned his back on her and walked to the window, hearing the sounds of battle in his mind. His head hitting the side of the carriage. Corinth’s scream as a dagger struck his eye. The desperation in Lucienne’s voice as Morpheus was dragged away bloody by Duke Burgess’ mercenaries.

“I wish to be alone, my sister,” Morpheus said quietly, keeping his back turned.

There was a stretch of silence as Thana seemed to consider what to do.

“You don’t have to be alone, Morpheus. I hope you know that.”

Footsteps. The sound of his door opening and closing.

Morpheus exhaled and let his eyes fall shut.

Chapter Text

Hob walked into the throne room, unable to help feeling nervous. The Crown Prince had not left his room for the rest of the day yesterday after speaking with Princess Thana. When Hob had knocked on his closed door and said that his riding boots were cleaned and ready, the prince just answered him through the door that he did not wish to go horseback riding anymore.

When Hob was told that the King had summoned him first thing in the morning, he dreaded that it meant he was to be reprimanded somehow for the prince’s ill behaviour. He walked to the dais and stopped at the foot of it, bowing deeply.

“Your Majesty.”

“Rise, Sir Gadling.”

Hob straightened up and looked at the King. “How can I be of service, sire?”

“I heard that my son wished to go horseback riding yesterday. Is this true?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. He had asked for his riding boots to be cleaned; I informed the servants at the stables and immediately returned to my post outside the prince's door.” Was that what the King wanted to know? If Hob had left his post? “However, he changed his mind and stayed in his room instead for the rest of the day, sire.”

King Horatius nodded. “Just as well. The Queen and I have decided that in light of the recent bandit attack upon my son's carriage, Morpheus is not to go outside the palace grounds indefinitely. Inform him of this.” He handed Hob a small scroll tied with a gold ribbon with embroidered patterns.

Hob took it, recognising the ribbon as a mark of an official order from the King. His seal would be stamped inside the scroll.

“Copies of that have been distributed to the rest of the palace staff,” the King continued. “The Summer Solstice Ball is in less than two weeks’ time, and security measures must be doubled.”

“The Crown Prince can't go outside even if his personal knights go with him, sire?” Hob clarified, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Indeed. Royals and nobles from neighbouring kingdoms would be making their way here for the Ball, and there would be bandits waiting to take advantage of that. The Crown Prince shall remain in the safety of the palace.”

Hob wanted to ask if that rule applied to the princesses too, but decided it might not be wise to question beyond what he was ordered to do.

“I shall inform the Crown Prince at once,” Hob said, already preparing himself for the prince’s ire. Prince Morpheus already seemed unhappy every time he would lay eyes on him, he couldn't imagine that the news would improve the prince's mood.

“Do so after breakfast,” King Horatius said. “He has not been joining us for meals recently, and I would not want to sour his mood and prevent him from attending a meal again.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hob tipped his head.

“You may go.”

Hob bowed once more before exiting the throne room.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════ 

The conversation at breakfast was about the upcoming ball, as Morpheus had expected. Thana still seemed to be involved in every aspect of the preparation, showing her usual fondness for social gatherings which Morpheus did not share.

He envied Delysia, permitted to just enjoy her breakfast in peace without having to think about preparing guest rooms and which seating arrangements would be best in order not to offend anyone. She was permitted to leave the table right after the meal, while Morpheus had to endure reminders about how he should conduct himself at the ball.

“Your father and I shall be finalising the guest list today,” Queen Twyla said. “We will meet with you two again at afternoon tea to discuss each of them. After your dance rehearsals.”

“Dance rehearsals? Will there be a performance?” Morpheus asked.

“No, but there will be guests from many kingdoms who would wish to dance with you two," King Horatius answered. “You must be able to accommodate all of them well and without error; all eyes will be upon your dances. Review both sides of the waltz, so that you can perform it well whether you are leading or your partner is.”

Morpheus sighed internally. Not only would he be expected to mingle with the people on the undoubtedly long guest list, but he had to dance with them too.

“I hope the rehearsal won't take long?” Thana smiled hopefully. “Morpheus and I are already familiar with the waltz, and there are still other things to prepare.”

“It shouldn't take more than an hour,” Queen Twyla said. “Meet with your tutor at the ballroom at two hours past lunch.”

“I shall be there,” Morpheus said. “May I be excused? I had promised Delysia I would be spending time with her today. I wish to do so before I get preoccupied with the preparations.”

“Very well,” the King nodded. “You may go.”

Morpheus stood up and tipped his head at his parents before heading out of the dining hall, careful not to walk too quickly.

Gadling was standing guard outside along with the other knights, and promptly followed him as he walked down the corridor. Morpheus paid him no mind; it seemed like the whole palace was intent on saddling him with a personal guard, and at the moment he did not want to spend energy in thinking up ways to get rid of him. Perhaps after the Solstice Ball he would have more time.

“Your Highness,” Gadling spoke from a few paces behind him. “The King told me to give you this.”

Morpheus stopped walking and turned to the knight with a frown. His father had made no mention of anything he had given Gadling.

Gadling wordlessly handed him a scroll marked with his father's symbols.

He opened it, and his frown deepened upon reading the words. “This order was given just this morning?” He looked at Gadling.

“Yes, Your Highness. The King said he had copies given to all the palace staff.”

“And you did not think to inform me of it immediately?”

“It was the King’s order to only inform you after you have had breakfast with them, sire.” Gadling’s face remained mostly neutral, but his tone sounded apologetic. Morpheus hated that pity.

“I see,” he said coldly before turning away and resuming his walk down the corridor. He could hear Gadling following behind him but the knight wisely remained silent.

He had a feeling that he knew why his father wanted him to know of this new restraint after breakfast, and he clenched his jaw at the fact that his father cared more about the atmosphere of a meal than talking to his own son.

The corridor opened up to the garden, and Morpheus stepped outside into the bright morning sun. He felt himself smile as he saw Delysia seated by a flower bed. It seemed that she had chosen painting as her activity today.

“Morpheus!” she brightened when she saw him. “And Sir Gadling! Hello!”

“Your Highness.” Hob smiled and bowed.

“I'm painting flowers today. The sun gives them such a beautiful glow at this hour. Will you join me?”

“I would be happy to,” Morpheus said sincerely. He did not have his little sister’s talent for painting, but he still enjoyed their time spent together during the activity. “I shall have my canvas fetched.”

“No need! I brought an extra one!” Delysia beamed and gestured to the easel and canvas a few feet away from them, leaning against a tree. “You said you would spend time with me today, so I had it prepared for you.”

Morpheus was at a loss for words for a moment; whatever ire he had felt about his father dissipated to make space for Delysia. His company was seldom sought out just for the pleasure of it, yet his little sister had always done so.

The servants accompanying Delysia brought the easel and canvas in front of him, as well as paints and a wooden chair for him to sit upon.

“Very well.” Morpheus took a seat and a paintbrush. “Shall I paint the flowers as well?”

“You can paint whatever you wish! As long as it makes you happy.” Delysia was concentrating on her own canvas as she spoke, unaware that what she had just said was something that her brother heard so rarely that he had forgotten it was an option.

Morpheus could not remember the last time he did something for the sole purpose of making himself happy, and he felt rather out of practice. He looked around for inspiration, and noticed that there were suddenly guards around the perimeter of the garden. They had not been there when he arrived just minutes before.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he realised the reason for their sudden appearance. Not only was he not allowed outside palace grounds for the foreseeable future, but apparently his father also thought that he needed extra guards when outdoors, even though that wasn’t the case for his much younger sister.

“Are you having trouble deciding?” Delysia asked from beside him. “Perhaps you can paint the sky. You always make such beautiful clouds, and you seemed happy when you painted them last time.”

Morpheus turned to his sister and managed a smile. “You’re right, I do enjoy that.”

He looked at the sky to take in its appearance, how the morning sun coloured the clouds a soft orange, its rays seeping through. Then he dipped his brush into the paints and went to work.

He might have countless problems to deal with as a Crown Prince, but his times with Delysia always felt like a solace. And if she still enjoyed his company despite all his flaws, then perhaps he was doing something right.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════ 

Princess Delysia retired to her chambers after making multiple paintings, and Hob expected the prince to return indoors to rest as well, but Prince Morpheus began making his way to the armoury.

“I believe it is time for your lunch once I head to dance rehearsals,” the prince said without looking at him. “It is less than an hour away. You may go now and have more time to rest from your duties.”

“Thank you, my lord, but I had a hearty breakfast and won’t be needing lunch just yet,” Hob replied. He didn’t have any more food than usual for breakfast, but he had never slacked off on his duties as a guard before, and he wouldn’t be starting now.

He noticed that there were more guards in the garden when he and the prince arrived, and that would explain why Prince Morpheus would want his company even less now, but Hob still wanted to earn the prince’s trust and show that he could be a guard without making the prince feel stifled.

Prince Morpheus didn’t say anything else and continued walking towards the armoury by the open field where the knights did their training and exercises. Hob wondered briefly if the prince was going to spar him in an attempt to drive him away again. His injured arm wasn’t fully recovered yet, but he liked to believe he learned a thing or two from Sir Corinth during their daily training and he would most likely be able to hold his ground against the prince.

Prince Morpheus called the attention of a servant putting fresh straws in the training dummies. “Prepare three targets for archery and one for swordfighting.”

The servant shifted on his feet. “Will you be training by yourself, sire? Shall I call some of the knights to assist you? Or would Sir Gadling be doing that?”

Prince Morpheus frowned. “Why should I need assistance? You are well aware that I am not new to training by myself.”

The servant averted his eyes. “Yes, sire, but… With the Solstice Ball approaching, we were all told to make certain that you and your siblings don’t fall into any harm before then.”

“You think I am dull enough to hurt myself doing the training I have always done?” Morpheus arched an eyebrow.

“N-No, Your Highness!” The servant looked like he wanted to run away, and Hob was beginning to feel bad for the young man. “It’s just… Does the King know you wish to train today?”

Morpheus stared at him with an unimpressed look for a few moments before walking away and heading to the target dummies himself.

“Sire! Just a moment—” The servant made to go after him but Hob stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Hob gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll look after him.”

The servant exhaled in relief. “Thank you, Sir Gadling.” 

Hob turned to follow the prince and saw that he had taken an archery target dummy and was setting it up on the field. Hob jogged over to the other targets first before following the prince.

“If you wish to stop me, Sir Gadling, save your breath—” Prince Morpheus abruptly stopped speaking when he saw that Hob was setting up another target next to the one he just planted in the grass.

“I wouldn't dream of it, Your Highness,” Hob grinned as he secured the target. “Three dummies for archery and one for sword, yes?”

Hob went to get the third archery target, and on his way back he saw that Prince Morpheus was setting up the dummy for sword practice. Hob finished setting up the target and approached the prince.

“Your Highness, I can spar with you if you wish,” Hob offered. “If you'd like to practice techniques not applicable with the dummy.” He hadn't had any formal training with the sword until he became a patrol guard only a year ago, but he had learned a lot from Sir Corinth already.

Prince Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows. “Your arm is still injured, is it not?”

Hob blinked. He hadn't expected the prince to remember that. “Yes, sire, but I can use it well enough during my daily training with Sir Corinth.”

“You train with Corinth every day despite your injury?” Prince Morpheus looked mildly surprised. “Did Lucienne require that of you?”

“No, Your Highness. Captain Lucienne told me to start the training whenever my arm felt well enough, but I asked Gilbert if I could start already, and he said I could. So long as I didn't strain myself too much.”

The prince arched an eyebrow. “Your training with Corinth isn't strenuous?” he said skeptically.

Hob chuckled, unsure what he should say. The prince would undoubtedly be familiar with Sir Corinth’s training practices. “I don't mind it, sire. I'm meant to protect you, and it's only right that I learn as much as I can.”

A shadow seemed to pass over the prince’s face, and his voice was a measure colder when he spoke again. “Stand aside, Sir Gadling. I wish to begin with archery now and the field should be clear.” He turned and walked away to get a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Hob sighed to himself and steered clear of the training field, wondering what he had said wrong. Prince Morpheus was finally speaking to him, and somehow he had made a mistake that made the prince turn away again.

Still, he was surprised that Prince Morpheus seemed to express concern about his injury. Though perhaps he shouldn't have been, since he had seen how the prince had treated Unity Kincaid and Jed Walker.

The sound of an arrow flying brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked just in time to see the arrow embed itself in the middle of the dummy’s chest.

Prince Morpheus placed another arrow in the bow and drew it back. He released the string and the arrow landed right next to the first one.

Hob looked at the prince, half-expecting to see him smiling, but the prince’s face remained impassive as he let loose another arrow and hit the dummy’s neck.

The prince walked a few steps to the right and stood in front of the second dummy which had wooden armor. Hob watched as arrows landed in the chinks of it; the dummy's eye, neck, shoulder, and hip.

Hob gaped at the dummy with the arrows sticking out of it. Dramherth was a small village and none of the patrol guards were trained with archery, and even as a bandit Hob had never known anyone proficient with a bow and arrow. He had nothing with which to compare the prince’s skills, but Hob knew that it must have taken many hours of training for such precision to be learned. He had not seen any of the other knights use bows or crossbows, and he wondered who could have taught the prince.

The third target dummy had also been riddled with arrows, but there was no more than a look of casual satisfaction on the prince’s face. He approached the targets and carefully removed the arrows before returning them to the quiver. He put the bow and quiver back in their places and proceeded with sword training with the fourth dummy.

Hob had wondered if Prince Morpheus wanted to train to let off steam, but the prince’s movements now with the sword seemed mechanical. He was still skilled with his strikes, but there was none of the blaze in his eyes that Hob had seen when he leapt out of that carriage to fight off the ambush. Now the prince’s demeanor was almost dull, as if there was no driving force behind his actions.

Hob thought about how Prince Morpheus was locked in a carriage by his own knights, and how the young Princess Delysia was allowed to be in the garden with only her servants, but guards appeared as soon as Prince Morpheus arrived. And now the King has forbidden him from going outside the palace grounds.

How long had that been going on? Certainly long enough for the prince to have a resigned air about him at most times. Hob almost wished the prince would just be irritable and lash out, at least then he would be expressing his emotions rather than closing himself off from everyone.

Prince Morpheus swung his sword and decapitated the dummy, its wooden helmet tumbling to the ground, straw spilling out of the neck.

Hob immediately went to pick up the head and approach the prince. “Shall I get a replacement, Your Highness?”

Prince Morpheus was breathing quite noticeably from the physical exertion, his cheekbones flushed and locks of hair sticking to his forehead. He shook his head slightly. “No need. I should be preparing for the dance rehearsal now.” He sheathed his sword and stepped forward to remove the dummy from the ground.

Hob went to an archery target and did the same, still holding the decapitated dummy head under one arm. They cleared away all the targets, and Hob walked with the prince back into the palace and up to the door of his chambers.

“Now will you go have your lunch, Sir Gadling?” Prince Morpheus said.

“Yes, sire, I shall be going out of your way. And be back again after your rehearsals,” Hob offered a smile.

Prince Morpheus turned away and opened his door.

Hob gave a quick bow and began to walk down the corridor.

“Sir Gadling,” the prince’s voice called after him.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Hob immediately turned back around.

Prince Morpheus was standing there with one hand on the handle of his open door. He seemed to be pondering what to say next.

He looked at Hob. “Thank you. For your help with the targets.”

Hob felt too stunned to speak. It was the first time that Prince Morpheus had ever thanked him, and it sounded so sincere that it made something ache in his chest.

“I shall see you after rehearsals.” The prince walked into his chambers and closed the door behind him.

Hob huffed out a chuckle and shook his head in disbelief, though he wasn't certain at what. Disbelief that the prince thanked him? Or that he felt more affected by it than he would have expected?

Regardless, he continued to walk down the corridor, feeling himself smile. The prince had even said that he would see Hob after rehearsals, as if he didn't dread the idea.

It may be too presumptuous to think of himself as Prince Morpheus’ friend, but he hoped that he could at least be someone who could make the prince feel less alone.

After all, Hob had sworn loyalty to him.

Chapter Text

Hob went to his new house on the palace grounds after having lunch with some of the knights. He still had over half an hour before he was supposed to return to his duties, and he wanted to check if anything needed attending to.

Robyn was at school, but it looked like he had tidied up before leaving; Hob didn't even need to sweep. He checked the pantry and saw that they still had enough food for a few days, and the hinges on the windows and doors were well-oiled and didn't make the slightest creaks.

Hob stood in the living room for a few moments, not quite sure what to do. He wasn't very familiar with the entirety of the palace grounds yet, perhaps it would be a  good use of his time if he walked around.

He didn't have a destination in mind, but his footsteps led him back to the gardens, near where Prince Morpheus and Princess Delysia painted pictures only this morning. It was one of the rare moments that Hob had seen the prince smile.

A movement caught his attention, and he turned to see an elderly woman a few feet away, picking apples from a tree and putting them in the basket she held in one arm.

“Miss Kincaid,” Hob raised a hand in greeting and walked towards her. “Good afternoon.”

“Sir Gadling,” Unity Kincaid smiled. “Good afternoon. Not watching over the Crown Prince today?”

“I'm still on break. Not sure what to do with myself,” Hob chuckled. “Still not used to life in the palace.”

“Oh I understand that. It doesn't feel right not to be working at all hours of the day. Will you join me for a walk, then?” Unity asked amiably. “I'll be making apple pie for my grandkids for supper, and I've just started picking apples.”

“Of course,” Hob happily agreed.

He and Unity had seen each other every once in a while around the palace, but they hadn't spent much time talking, and Hob was glad to make a friend. The other knights were friendly enough with him, but he still sometimes felt like he needed to act a certain way around them. He'd been a bandit for longer than he'd been a patrol guard, and suddenly becoming a knight left him feeling uncertain about a lot of things when it came to behaving in a palace, especially around those who had been there far longer than him.

“How's your son?” Unity asked as she inspected an apple before picking it. “Rose is in the same class as him, and she said he's quite the smart boy.”

“He is,” Hob said proudly. “Robyn hasn't had any complaints, but he never complains about anything. I just hope he likes it here as much as he says he does.”

“He has lunch with my grandchildren on most days at school, and they play on the palace grounds sometimes and visit the library. Don't worry too much about Robyn,” Unity smiled.

Hob nodded, feeling somewhat reassured. Robyn had talked to him about being friends with the Walkers, but he didn't know that they'd been spending so much time together. He sometimes felt bad that Robyn didn't have any siblings, and he was glad to know that his son didn't seem to be lonely despite their new life at the palace.

“How about you, Miss Kincaid? Are you comfortable here?”

“Oh, of course.” Unity had filled her basket halfway and gestured for the both of them to sit on a bench. “I work in the kitchens, and the servants have been very helpful and kind. Sometimes when it isn't too busy I have time to pick up the kids at school. And you, Sir Gadling? Is your new job proving to be quite challenging?” She handed him an apple.

“Oh, thank you,” Hob took it. “It's not very challenging, really. The most difficult part is the daily training with Sir Corinth,” he chuckled. “But I'm getting used to it.” He took a bite of the apple, it was fresh and sweet. The Walkers would be having a great apple pie for supper.

“I've heard talk that the other knights are relieved that you came to the palace,” Unity took an apple for herself. “Because it means that none of them would be chosen to be the Crown Prince’s knight.”

“Prince Morpheus isn't nearly as scary as they think,” Hob said defensively. 

“I know that,” Unity chuckled. “You and I were both there when he protected us from that nobleman. I'm glad that he has you by his side. Hopefully he grows to see you as a friend, he needs one after what he went through,” she said somberly.

Hob furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“You don't know?” Unity looked surprised. “About the diplomatic trip the prince took last year?”

Hob recalled the rumours of a possible forbidden romance between Sir Corinth and the prince, but somehow he didn't think that was what Unity was talking about.

“I just know that he didn't return until four months later,” he said.

“Well, nothing’s confirmed, but I did hear a few things from the servants.” Unity spoke in a lower voice. “When the Crown Prince returned, it was in the middle of the night, and he was by himself. He barely spoke to anyone and headed straight to his chambers, but a few servants saw bruises on his face and arms.”

Hob’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

Unity shook her head. “The servants aren't sure, but they speculate that perhaps the prince’s boat or carriage got attacked on the return trip. The royal family never spoke of it publicly.”

Hob fell in thoughtful silence. A lot of things still didn't make sense, what happened to the prince’s guards? And why was everything so secret? Prince Morpheus was attacked recently, but the King had no qualms about letting the people know about it so they could double the security measures.

Hob still had a lot of questions that he knew Unity wouldn't be able to answer, but he shares her hope that someday the prince would see him as a friend. Prince Morpheus trusted Sir Corinth and Captain Lucienne, Hob hoped to earn the same trust too.

══════════ ⛉ ⚔︎ 🜲 ══════════ 

The meeting was being held at the outdoor dining hall by the fountains because it had proved to be too warm inside the palace, and Morpheus was glad that they were at least out in the refreshing air while having the tedious discussion.

Four knights stood a few feet away; the personal guards of his parents, the one for Thana, and Robert Gadling. There would also be servants within earshot should any of them want more refreshments.

“Most of the guests are from families that have attended our previous gatherings,” Queen Twyla said as Morpheus and Thana looked through the list. “There are a handful of new ones, such as their cousins and siblings who weren't able to join them on their past trips here, but all the families involved are those that your father and I have met at least once before.”

Morpheus did recognise most of the names on the list, which increasingly made him feel that this meeting was unnecessary. It was just more of the same people; there was nothing new to discuss regarding double-checking and security measures.

“I see Princess Titania is attending again,” Thana said, looking at the list. “She has never missed any of our parties.”

“Indeed,” the King said. “She would be attending with some cousins, and I believe all of them are viable options for your betrothal.”

Morpheus sighed to himself. Princess Titania and her gaggle of preening cousins have had their eyes on the throne from the very beginning. They threw themselves at his older brothers before, and he had no doubt they would do the same to him.

“There would be many noble ladies at the Ball,” Morpheus said. “I would be happy to get to know each of them to decide who would be the best fit for our family and the kingdom.” The latter statement was a lie; he dreaded every aspect of the Summer Solstice Ball the more it neared. But his parents didn't need to know that.

“You need not concern yourself with such work,” the King said. “Comport yourself with the proper decorum and dance with them, but your mother and I will be making a list of viable candidates based on how our guests will behave at the Ball. In a day or two afterwards, we will give you the name of the most fitting lady, and you will begin the courtship.”

Morpheus frowned at his father's words. “Pardon me, Father. You and Mother will decide on whom I will court?”

“Yes. Though of course the courtship would just be for formality; we will make arrangements with the lady's parents regarding the betrothal.”

“But I thought…” Morpheus looked to his sister, but she seemed just as confused as he was. “It was my understanding that I would choose which of the ladies at the Ball I would wish to marry, and I would present her to you for approval.”

“There would be too many candidates at the Ball, you couldn't possibly get to know each of them well enough before the night ends,” the King said.

“Don't worry, Morpheus,” the Queen added. “Your father and I have known these families since before you were born. We have an idea of how those women would behave just from seeing their names on that list, and their behaviour at the Ball would tell us more even if we don't speak with all of them. We will make sure to choose only the best for you.”

“You may enjoy yourself at the Ball and not worry about anything else,” the King said.

Morpheus felt the dread growing in the pit of his stomach and going up to his throat. He felt nauseous. He would not even get to choose his bride?

Thana was looking at him in concern, but he knew that she wouldn't contradict their parents right now, neither of them would.

“Morpheus? Are you alright, darling?”

Morpheus heard his mother's voice, but everything felt distant. His vision was starting to swim.

“I… apologise.” He stood up, keeping one hand on the table for balance. “I feel unwell.”

“It must be the heat of the sun,” Thana offered. “Morpheus had always been sensitive to high temperatures. Perhaps some time at the tower would do him good? I can have Matthew and Jessamy fetched to keep him company.”

“Retire to your chambers afterwards,” the King said. “Perhaps you need to catch up on sleep as well.”

Morpheus nodded. “Excuse me.” He bowed and unsteadily left the table.

He heard his mother call for a servant, telling them to fetch his ravens. He paid no more attention to them, swiftly making his way into the palace and up the staircase. He found it hard to breathe and his heart was thudding in his ears so loudly that he didn't notice Gadling was following him until he was halfway up the stairs already.

“I suppose it wouldn't make a difference if I tell you to leave me alone?” Morpheus heard the shortness of his breath as he spoke.

“I'm sorry, Your Highness,” Gadling said softly, and he did sound sorry. “If there's anything I can do… Perhaps another archery or swordfighting session? We can spar if you wish, my arm is almost fully recovered.”

“My sister said that I am feeling ill from the heat of the sun, and you suggest physical exertion in an open field?”

Gadling didn't say anything, and Morpheus sighed. The knight isn't dull, and he evidently knew that what Thana said was merely an excuse for him to be able to leave the table.

“Do not fret too much about me, Sir Gadling. I can handle myself.”

They reached the tower, and Morpheus went to the railing, placing his hands on it for support and taking deep breaths of the open air.

“Still, if there's anything I can do, Your Highness, just let me know.” Gadling remained a few paces behind him.

“What I really wish is to go horseback riding in the forest,” Morpheus said, thinking aloud. He looked at the sprawling greenery at the back of the palace and yearned for his earlier years when he could go there whenever he wished. When he wasn't yet the Crown Prince.

“Perhaps the King might allow it, if it's just in the forest near the palace?” Gadling offered. “I could go with you to stand guard.”

Morpheus shook his head. “The scroll clearly stated that I must remain within our property, and we do not own the forest. My father will forbid me if I tell him I wish to go there.”

A beat of silence, with only the breeze and distant birds making a sound.

“Then…” Gadling began. “Let's not tell him.”

Morpheus frowned and turned to look at the knight, unsure if he heard correctly. “You would defy the King’s order?”

“As long as you don't tell him.” Gadling was smiling, as if what he had suggested was merely a trifle.

Morpheus could only stare at the knight for a few moments. “You knelt at his feet and swore loyalty to him. We all saw it.”

“I swore loyalty to you, Prince Morpheus. No one else.” Gadling wasn't smiling anymore, and there was nothing but determined sincerity on his face.

Morpheus searched Gadling’s expression for any hint that this might just be his idea of a surreal jape, but Gadling met his gaze without any ounce of flinching nor hesitation.

Morpheus took a breath and slowly nodded. “All right. Let's go to the forest.”

Chapter Text

"Start a conversation with Hilda, the stablemaster," Prince Morpheus told Hob as they made their way down from the tower. "Hold her attention for at least ten minutes to give me time to get us horses from the stables."

"You're going to steal horses?" Hob asked in surprise.

"We own them," Prince Morpheus reminded him. "But Hilda would know about my father's orders and would not allow me to take any horse from her stable."

Hob was silent for a few moments, thinking about their options. It would be much more favourable for the prince in the long run if the palace staff understood his situation.

"What if we talk to her first?" Hob suggested.

Prince Morpheus raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That would warn her of my plan."

"We could include her in the plan," Hob explained. "If we just steal horses, she'd notice it in a few minutes and would report it. Then the whole palace could be on high alert thinking that thieves had broken in. They'd look for you, especially, to make sure you're safe."

Prince Morpheus frowned thoughtfully, clearly displeased with that realisation. "Very well. But I must warn you that I am not known for my charms."

"We'll talk to her together," Hob assured him.

They made their way to the stables, passing a few other knights and palace staff along the way who bowed and greeted the prince.

"Prince Morpheus," Hilda said with mild surprise as they approached, brushing the mane of a lean white stallion. "Good afternoon. Sir Gadling," she nodded to him.

Hob nodded back and smiled. "Good afternoon, Hilda. Prince Morpheus and I wish to take two horses for some leisurely stroll to the forest."

Hilda looked at him and the prince, furrowing her eyebrows. "Sir Gadling, the King gave orders for Prince Morpheus to remain within the palace walls. He can't go to the forest."

Prince Morpheus didn't say anything but Hob could feel him tense up beside him, and he took a step forward to speak before the prince could.

"It'll just be for a few minutes," Hob said with an apologetic smile. "We'll be back before you know it, and we'll return the horses in perfectly good shape. You know that Prince Morpheus can ride well, and I've had experience myself as a guard in my village." That last bit was slightly modified; Hob had little experience with horses as a guard, he had ridden them more often when he was a bandit and stole them to escape. But that didn't feel relevant to mention.

Hilda just gave him an unimpressed stare. "I don't know why you think that would convince me to disobey the King, Sir Gadling. Prince Morpheus can take a stroll in the palace grounds."

Prince Morpheus scoffed in exasperation. "Come along, Sir Gadling, we are wasting our time here." He turned to leave.

"No, hold on," Hob held out a hand to stop the prince from leaving. He turned to Hilda. "Look. Prince Morpheus had already been locked in his own carriage by the King's orders, and he had just found out that he can't even choose his own bride. The King would do that for him too. Can't you give him one afternoon to run his own life for once?" he chuckled mirthlessly.

Hilda's eyebrows were raised in surprise; she evidently didn't know about the carriage, and of course the betrothal arrangements were a private matter. Hob could see that the prince had turned a shade of red, likely from embarrassment at having those details of his life revealed. Hob could only hope that they get a good enough result from what he did that the prince could forgive him for it.

Hilda frowned and gave them both searching looks. Hob held his breath.

Hilda sighed and made sure that the leash was secure on the horse she was brushing. "I'm going to go get some food from the kitchens. Then I'll be busy with errands and it's unlikely that I'll notice any horses missing until sundown, when I go to check on them again."

Hob straightened up and smiled.

"Also, Your Highness," Hilda looked at Prince Morpheus. "Your royal garments are very finely made. You certainly stand out in a crowd, just as a Crown Prince should. My compliments to your tailor." She brushed off her hands and nodded to them both. "Well. Have a good day."

She walked off in the direction of the palace without another glance at them.

Hob looked at Prince Morpheus with a proud grin. "I told you it would work."

The prince was evidently trying to hold back a smile and failing. "I commend your negotiating abilities, Sir Gadling." He looked down at himself and furrowed his eyebrows. "Although I do not think I own any clothes that are inconspicious. Even my riding garments are dyed in vivid colours."

Hob thought about it for a moment. "I have an idea."

***

Robyn was still at school, and the house was empty when they arrived.

Hob had changed out of his knight's attire and into simpler clothes from his time back at his old village. He was standing in his kitchen filling up waterskins when he heard the door to his bedroom open.

"I might need help with these," Prince Morpheus said as he walked into the kitchen.

The prince was dressed in Hob's plain brown clothes, and everything was just a little bit loose on him; the shirt was slipping past his shoulder, and he was presently trying to figure out how to tie the belt tightly enough around the trousers.

Hob suppressed a fond smile. He secured the waterskins closed and approached the prince.

"Let me, Your Highness." Hob stepped in front of the prince and fiddled with the drawstrings of the shirt on the chest area to tighten it.

His knuckles brushed the prince's bare skin and he felt warmth rush to his face. This all suddenly felt like a kind of intimacy that Hob didn't deserve from a royal. Prince Morpheus didn't even have a manservant to help him dress every day, and there was a part of Hob that couldn't help but feel like he's intruding.

He took the belt from the prince's hands and averted his eyes when their fingers grazed against each other. He walked around to the side and tightened it by the prince's waist.

Hob went through the motions of double-checking everything to make sure that the prince could ride comfortably without worrying about anything coming loose, then he took a step back and released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Thank you," the prince gave him a small smile. "All my clothing had always been tailored to me. I am not used to making adjustments."

"That's what I'm here for, Your Highness," Hob returned the smile. "Now, let's get those horses."

Prince Morpheus was careful to keep his gaze down and his face always turned away whenever people passed them by on their way back to the stables. But with both of them dressed like common servants, no one even glanced their way, and getting two horses from the stables turned out to be much easier than Hob had expected.

"Should I be concerned that we bypassed the security of my home so easily?" Prince Morpheus said lightly as he led a black stallion through a side door of the stable.

"The guards are more concerned with who's coming into the palace, rather than who's going out," Hob replied, quietly walking with this brown mare.

Prince Morpheus guided them through a route that Hob hadn't even been aware of; a narrow path that sometimes went behind the buildings on the palace grounds and other times kept them blending in with the other servants using horses for errands.

They exited the palace gates with some supply wagons, and subtly separated from the group when they reached the main road, swinging onto their horses and trotting off towards the forest.

"You have the stealth of a seasoned knight, my lord," Hob couldn't help but say once they were under the cover of trees.

Prince Morpheus smiled with evident pride in his posture. "When you grow up surrounded by palace walls, you learn quite quickly how to navigate them. At the time when Thana was still the crown heir, I was not so strictly guarded. I could disappear for an hour or two and they would assume that I was merely in my room or the library. I have grown familiar with the paths to the forest and inside it."

Hob gaped at the prince. He had snuck out of the palace walls even when he was young? It seemed like he really had a far more independent spirit than the King realised.

"Then I shall learn these paths with you, my lord," Hob said. "So that I may guard you properly whenever you wish to return here. Not that you need much guarding, judging by how you are in the field whether it's in training or battle," he added lightly.

Prince Morpheus' eyebrows lifted. "You would do this again with me? Even knowing that it is against the King's wishes?"

"I'm your knight, Prince Morpheus," Hob answered simply. "Your wishes are what matter to me."

Prince Morpheus gave him a searching look, then a small smile curved his lips. "Then I wish that you also take this time to forget about the weight of your duties. You know that I can protect myself if need be, and I am familiar enough with this forest to know that there are no bandits." He faced forward and made his horse go a little faster, evidently not waiting for Hob to decline.

Hob could only stare after the prince, feeling himself smile. Dressed in a commoner's clothing with the wind ruffling his hair, Prince Morpheus looked freer than Hob had ever seen him.

Hob couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if they had met as equals in a small village, if Prince Morpheus wasn't burdened with duty and Hob didn't need to always keep his station in mind. Would they go to taverns? Laugh over drinks at the end of a long day? Perhaps Prince Morpheus would confide in him, and Hob would be able to help with whatever troubled his friend. They could go wherever they wanted without worrying about rules and insubordination.

Hob shook his head to clear it, glad that Prince Morpheus was still looking at the path ahead. It was pointless to daydream about such flights of fancy, especially when they were outdoors and he had a responsibility to keep the prince safe. Prince Morpheus told him to forget about his duties while they were here, but Hob knew he couldn't do that, not entirely. With everything that Prince Morpheus was going through—and Hob was aware that he only knew a fraction of it—the prince deserved someone who would always be in his corner and keep him safe, whether from the blades of bandits or the dangers of loneliness.

"If we go left here, we would end up out of the forest and at the edge of the nearest village," Prince Morpheus' voice broke through Hob's thoughts. He slowed to a stop and waited for Hob to stop beside him before he continued. "Shall we race?" he turned at Hob with a glint in his eye.

Hob looked at him in surprise. "Your Highness. Are you certain? The forest's terrain might have grown uneven in places since you had last visited, and the trees press closer together along this path." He would not want to go back to the palace with the Crown Prince's face covered in scratches.

Prince Morpheus arched an elegant eyebrow. "Is my knight afraid of a challenge?" he said with a playful smile.

My knight.

Hob chuckled and glanced down momentarily to hide the warmth that rose to his cheeks. He tipped his head politely and looked at the prince again. "As my lord commands."

Prince Morpheus' face brightened and he spurned his horse onto a gallop. Hob immediately followed, with a familiar thrill in his veins that he had not felt in a long time.

Riding alongside the prince and feeling the wind on his face, Hob could let himself believe that it really was just the two of them.

Just Morpheus and Hob, two friends enjoying a nice afternoon in each other's company.

Chapter Text

Hob reached the edge of the forest mere seconds before Prince Morpheus did. He steadied himself on his horse while he caught his breath; it wouldn't do to win the race only to fall on his face immediately afterwards.

"Not bad, Sir Gadling," Prince Morpheus, said beside him, slightly short of breath and strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

The prince was a better rider than Hob had expected; he wove through the trees with such smooth precision that Hob almost couldn't keep up with him. It was only thanks to his determined horse that Hob managed to win at all, even if he did get a few scrapes from passing branches.

"Do I get a reward, then?" Hob said with a grin before he realised what he had said. The adrenaline of the race had made him bold, and he was about to apologise when the prince smiled at him and the words died on his tongue.

"Yes." Prince Morpheus led his horse a few steps forward and he looked out at the village some distance away. "A meal of your choice in the finest establishment we can find there."

"You wish to go to the village?" Hob said in mild surprise. "I'm a new knight, Your Highness, and I'm not certain I'm capable of protecting you among so many people."

Prince Morpheus arched an eyebrow at him. "You stood your ground against me even before your training, and you think of yourself incapable?"

Hob felt his face warm; he fiddled with the reins of his horse as he fought the urge to avert his eyes. "I'm just worried about the risks of you being out in public, my lord."

Word inside the palace was that bandits would be more rampant now that the Summer Solstice Ball was coming up; royal guests visiting the capital city meant more targets. Hob would know, he participated in such things himself just two years ago.

"I doubt any of them would recognise me." Prince Morpheus gestured to his clothes. "We are both dressed like commoners, and no one would expect the Crown Prince to be outside without a host of knights."

Because it's a dangerous idea, Hob thought, but he saw how distressed the prince looked in the tower less than an hour ago, after all the stifling things he had gone through in the past days. Hob didn't want to be one of the people who would restrain him.

"Have you ever been to that village?" Prince Morpheus asked him curiously.

"No, my lord," Hob shook his head. "It's quite far from my hometown, and I didn't have much cause to travel."

"Then they wouldn't recognise you either. Come along," the prince smiled and gracefully jumped off his horse.

They led their horses a little ways deeper into the forest and tied them securely around the trunks of trees that offered shade, and beside a small brook where they could get water. Soon enough, they were walking down the gentle slope towards the village, with the Crown Prince looking even more like a commoner without his horse.

"I had always wanted to visit this village," Prince Morpheus mused. "Many times I considered it during one of my trips to the forest, but I never had the courage."

"It seems that your timing is impeccable, Your Highness," Hob said as they neared the village. "The festivities are just starting."

People were walking along the roads with flowers in their hands and smiles on their faces; friends talked excitedly to each other and families walked hand in hand as they all made their way to the square.

Bright colourful banners hung outside houses and on lampposts, hues of yellow and orange depicting the sun and various harvests. Bards were readying their instruments in the middle of the square, dressed to match the colour of the banners. Food stalls were everywhere, selling everything from chilled apple cider to hot meat pies.

The air seemed to thrum with anticipation, and Hob smiled at the wave of nostalgia he felt. His village had very similar traditions when it came to celebrating summer, and he was glad to see that people all the way here created the same joy for themselves.

"It's so… lively," Prince Morpheus said in awe.

Hob looked at him and saw that the prince's eyes were practically sparkling with wonder, taking in all the sights as they walked with the gradually forming crowds.

"Of course, my lord. Everyone's happy to celebrate the Summer Solstice. How does the palace prepare for it?" Hob asked curiously.

Prince Morpheus blinked, and a thoughtful frown creased his forehead. "The servants crowd the halls in a similar manner when they are setting up decorations, but I don't see most of the preparations myself, as I usually have to stay in my room and memorise the guest list and what topics to talk about with each noble. Today I had to practice the waltz." His voice sounded distant and resigned.

"You don't have to do any of that here," Hob said encouragingly. "I doubt there are any nobles here to worry about, and people dance however they like."

The prince's posture seemed to relax as he took it all in, then he turned to Hob. "You must pick an establishment for us to dine in. For your reward," he added playfully.

Hob felt himself smile. "An establishment sounds nice, Your Highness, but what do you say about trying out these different stalls? Most of them would only be open during the celebrations, and it's part of the experience to try at least a few."

"How many varieties of food do people usually eat at these celebrations?" Prince Morpheus asked with a slight tilt of his head.

"As many as they want," Hob grinned. "The only things that stop us commoners are the limits of our purse and stomachs."

Prince Morpheus smiled and took out a purse from his pocket. "Well then, we better get started."

The prince handed Hob the purse and he almost dropped it in surprise of the weight of it.

"Your Highness," Hob looked at the prince with wide eyes. He had never held this much coin at once in his entire life, not even as a bandit. "Where would you like to go first?" he asked once he recovered.

"You are much more familiar with these things than I am. Lead the way," Prince Morpheus gestured around them.

From his time in being Prince Morpheus' personal knight, Hob had learned that the prince was rather fond of pastries and desserts. So Hob led him to a stall selling gingerbread in various shapes. It wasn't the sweetest option, but Hob had a feeling that the prince would like it.

Hob bought ones that were shaped like small animals, and he was glad that it was well-made just like he hoped. The cinnamon and cloves complemented each other well, and the bread itself was soft and light.

Prince Morpheus was looking at his own gingerbread curiously. "Is this supposed to be a sheep? I do not know how I feel about taking a bite of its head."

"You devour mutton at your meals willingly enough, Your Highness," Hob said with jest.

The prince's cheekbones dusted pink. "I do not devour it."

Hob probably shouldn't be talking in such a familiar way to the Crown Prince, but his pout looked so endearing that Hob couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

The prince looked at him and gave a small smile before taking a bite of the bread. His eyes widened a fraction and he continued to take bites until the sheep was no more. "Excellent first choice, Sir Gadling," he said, somehow making the act of brushing crumbs off his hands look regal.

"Lots of other choices to make," Hob smiled and gestured to all the other stalls around them.

For someone who was quite used to a literal royal feast, Prince Morpheus seemed genuinely impressed by each stall they visited. He attentively watched the chestnut soup boiling before it was served to them, complimented the fresh taste of raspberries in the tart (Hob was fairly certain the vendor blushed), bought a second serving of apple cider, and more than enough honeycakes for both of them to fill their pockets to take back to the palace.

"Robyn might like some," Prince Morpheus had said after finishing his second honeycake. "And Rose and Jed Walker should have some as well."

Hob was glad that the prince was preoccupied with carefully wrapping the cakes before putting them in his pockets, so Hob could have a few moments to stare fondly as a warmth bloomed in his chest. He couldn't understand why the other knights would be afraid of someone like Prince Morpheus.

"If music be the food of love, play on," a clear voice rang across the square.

Hob turned to see that a small crowd had gathered in front of one of the bards, though that one had no instrument. He was standing on an overturned box to elevate himself as he recited his words.

"Give me excess of it that, surfeiting. The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again, it had a dying fall."

"Where to next, Your Highness?" Hob asked the prince who had also been looking at the bard.

Prince Morpheus turned to him distractedly.

"I think they're serving venison pasty over there," Hob gestured to a nearby stall.

The prince shook his head lightly and looked at the bard again. "I think I am done with the food now." He walked over to join the crowd and left Hob standing by the honeycakes.

"O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound. That breathes upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving odor. Enough, no more. 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before." The bard projected his voice and caught the attention of more people, making the crowd around him bigger. "O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! That, notwithstanding thy capacity, receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, of what validity and pitch soe'er."

Hob sighed to himself and followed the prince, taking care not to lose him in the crowd.

"But falls into abatement and low price, even in a minute," the bard continued. "So full of shapes is fancy, that it alone is high fantastical."

"Hob?"

Hob turned to see a familiar face looking at him in surprise.

"Hobsie!" Gareth grinned and walked over to him. "It is you! What're you doing all the way out here?"

"Um," Hob took a quick glance over his shoulder to see where the prince was standing a few feet away from him. He shifted on his feet and angled his stance so that he could still see the prince even while he faced his old friend. "I got a new job nearby, I'm just visiting for the festivities. How about you, then?" he tried to sound casual. He wasn't supposed to be recognised here, and the prince definitely shouldn't be.

"Oh I'm visiting a cousin, staying for her wedding," Gareth said. "I did hear that you got a new fancy job, you don't show up at the pub anymore," he laughed. "What do you do now again? Guard for a noble or something?"

"Yeah, I'm not on duty right now, though," Hob lied through his teeth.

"I'm here with some friends, d'you wanna join us?" Gareth jabbed a thumb somewhere behind him.

"Uh, no, that's fine. I'm with a friend too, just showing him around." Hob subtly glanced around and immediately felt panic when he realised that he had lost sight of the prince.

"Oh, you can bring him, then. We'll make a day of it, just like the old times, eh?"

Where did he go? Hob's eyes were darting around the crowd. "Listen, mate—"

"Hello," a hand landed on Hob's shoulder and he let out a breath of relief when he saw that the prince had come up from behind him.

"Hi," Gareth gave a friendly smile. "You Hob's friend?"

"Yes," Prince Morpheus returned the smile and extended a hand. "I'm Dream."

Gareth's eyebrows lifted as he took the handshake. "Nice name. I'm Gareth. You two wanna join us?"

A jaunty tune rose in the air, strings and drums making upbeat music float across the square.

Gareth grinned and looked at somewhere in the distance. "Alright, finally time for a dance. Wish me luck, lads," he went up to a woman wearing a bright yellow dress and offered a hand. She took it and they joined the quickly growing crowd of dancers in the middle.

"I am not familiar with this type of dance," Prince Morpheus looked around curiously.

"Perfect day to learn," Hob smiled, relieved that the prince was with him again. "We still have some time before we have to go back to the palace. Join them, Your Highness."

Prince Morpheus looked at him. "And what of you? Will you not dance?"

Hob chuckled nervously. "I haven't danced in a long time, my lord." It had been years since he had the youth and the time to go dancing with friends. "Besides, I need to better watch over you. I got distracted and lost you in the crowd earlier," he admitted somberly.

Prince Morpheus sighed and nodded. "You're quite right, Sir Gadling. You must be more vigilant in attending to your duties."

Hob felt stricken and tipped his head in shame. "My apologies, Your Highness. It won't happen again."

"See that it does not." Prince Morpheus began walking backwards. "A proper knight must keep his prince in sight at all times."

Hob looked up at the playful tone of the prince's voice, and saw that Prince Morpheus was about to disappear into the crowd of dancers.

"Fulfill your duties, Sir Gadling," Prince Morpheus said with a playful smirk that would be enough to make Hob do anything.

A laugh of relief escaped Hob and he quickly followed the prince before he could lose sight of him again.

"That's not usually how people ask others to dance," Hob said once he was standing again in front of the prince, surrounded by people who were already dancing and some bards with their instruments.

"I have much to learn," Prince Morpheus replied. "This is very different from a waltz. Perhaps you can show me how it works?"

The music's tempo picked up the pace, and the crowd cheered as they formed a loose circle around them.

Hob felt himself get pulled along by a man singing boisterously to the music, and he saw the prince get yanked in the other direction by a smiling woman with twin braids in her hair.

Hob frantically twisted and turned to try to keep the prince in sight, and he realised that he was in the inner circle of dancers, while Prince Morpheus got pulled along into the outer one. The circles spun in opposite directions, and most of the crowd seemed to know what movements to do.

From there it was a whirlwhind of bright colours and music and singing and laughter as the dance involved them switching partners every few steps. Hob was relieved to be able to keep his eye on Prince Morpheus almost constantly, smiling to himself when he saw that the prince was laughing along with the people and his attempts to follow the movements of their feet.

Hob himself wasn't doing too badly; he did have some experience in dancing a few years back, and it seemed like his muscles still remembered a few things. The dance was mostly footwork and bouncing and clapping, with a few spins here and there whenever they had to switch partners. Hob had never participated in such a dance before, but it seemed designed to keep one moving so as not to leave too much room for worrying about the steps.

The bard reciting the poem earlier ended up in front of Prince Morpheus, they smiled brightly at each other while Hob felt himself frown. The bard's touches seemed to linger on the prince's hands, his wrists, the sleeves of his shirt. Hob's shirt, that the prince specifically asked to borrow from him for this trip.

Hob tripped over his own feet and nearly stumbled as the dance changed with new movements. The crowd seemed to converge for a moment before separating again, and Hob found himself spun around without knowing where he was going.

He slammed into someone and he instinctively put his hands around a slender waist to steady himself.

He felt hands grab his shoulders in a similar manner, and his eyes widened when he saw the prince standing before him.

Prince Morpheus was staring at him in equal surprise, and Hob felt heat rise to his face as he realised that their bodies were very nearly touching. He could feel the warmth radiating off the prince, could see the beads of sweat on his forehead and in the dip of his throat.

"My lord," Hob's voice came out breathy, and he decided to blame it on the rigorous dance.

Rapid drumbeats sounded and a cheer erupted from the crowd. There were whistles and applause and then the crowd began to thin out as the people walked off.

Hob blinked himself back to his senses and flinched away from the prince, letting go of his waist and taking two steps backwards. He cleared his throat. "I'm… happy to see you had fun dancing," he managed a smile.

Prince Morpheus beamed. "I did. Though we really must get back to the palace now. The stablemaster said she would check the horses at sundown, and we must return before she would be forced to acknowledge the missing ones."

After buying some fruits from a stall they passed by, they began making their way out of the village. They ran into Gareth again, who had his arm linked with the arm of the woman he had danced with and didn't seem to mind them leaving.

They got their horses and rode back on the same route they took, wordlessly making a race of it once more. The prince won, and playfully accused Hob of letting him win this time. Hob truthfully said he did nothing of the sort, though he left out the part about wanting to stay a few paces behind the prince so he could look at his face, beaming with happiness that Hob had never seen on him before.

The prince timed their return perfectly, and they were able to blend in with a group of servants entering the palace. Hob made himself be seen and greeted the guards, so their attention wouldn't be on the Crown Prince who was right behind him with his head subtly ducked low.

They returned the horses exactly as they found them, and Prince Morpheus fed them a few apples. He stroked their manes and commended them for a job well done today.

No one paid attention to them as they made their way back to Hob's house, so the prince could change into his proper clothing once more.

They were talking about a recipe for apple tarts when they stepped through the doorway—

"Father?"

Hob froze in his tracks and turned to look at his son. He had forgotten that Robyn would be home already by now.

Robyn seemed to be in the middle of setting the table for dinner, but he stopped to look at them with wide eyes.

"Is that the prince?" Robyn's voice rose in surprise. "Why is he wearing your clothes?"

Hob exchanged glances with Prince Morpheus who looked just as caught off-guard as he felt.

It would appear that they had some explaining to do.