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Being a royal is a double edged sword. Well, obviously being poor, famished and injured is arguably worse. But that doesn't take away from his exhaustion.
Clay strived for perfection. It was expected. Hair, clothing, posture, make up, accessories. Everything had to be perfect.
Although the routine was exhausting, he didn't hate it. It was comforting, in a way. There were even certain aspects he liked. Early morning walks, reading … Basically everything that was done before anyone else was awake.
When the halls were empty, the sun had barely risen.
He was alone. He always preferred to be alone.
Because when he wasn't - like in the dining hall, at balls, at conferences - he felt alone. A soul draining, heavy and consuming feeling of loneliness. These tall, decorative walls are so cold, so dark, so empty.
But that's why he was so excited! A chance to get out from behind these cold walls, and not just for some temporary festivities.
It was a long and carefully executed process, but he eventually convinced his mother to let him start attending the knights academy!
Sure, now he would have to balance both royal duties and work alongside his knightly ones, but it was gonna be worth it.
And the theoretical balancing came along well enough in the end. Creating a beautiful and packed schedule. Of which now is gonna become a daily reality.
Clay hums happily as makes preporations for his departure. The birds follow his moments with a curious gaze as he moves back and forth. Fletch follows him with a less than excited one, sulking atop his older brother's bed.
“I don’t get what’s so great about that academy. Mom doesn’t like it, and you know it. Why go through all this trouble just to go there” he mumbles.
“Fletch, I've already told you; it isn't just about the academy. It’s about getting a break from all of- THIS!” Clay gestures, his face becoming sour just to have to face the high walls cagging him in. “A chance to be normal … somewhat. I- i just …”
Clay sits down next to Fletch with a sigh, fiddling with his hands.
“I … I just can’t keep doing this. Not all the time. I need a break.” Clay forcibly admits.
“This doesn’t look like a break, it’s just more work. And you know it.” Fletch glares at his brother, poking him in the side.
“Work away from here is basically the same as a break. Trust me.” Clay pets the dove that had landed in his lap. “Besides, being a knight just sounds amazing! I could be of help, be of actual use instead of just standing around - smiling, waving, dilly-dallying - a decorative waste of space. I wanna do stuff!”
Fletch groans, another bird landing on him.
“I guess you have a point.” He gets off the bed, walking over to the balcony. He leans against the railing and looking out at the kingdom, a sad gaze burrowed into his features. Clay watches him for a second before getting up and joining him on the balcony. There's a moment of silence before Fletch speaks again. “What am I meant to do when you’re not here?”
Clay looks at him, the guilt that had already started brewing boiling over in an instant. He struggles to find the words, or rather how to word it.
“I … didn’t think of that.” He finally admits. “I mean, you have a bit more leeway than I do. Mom even lets you sometimes leave the castle and make friends. Or, at least spend some time with those Fox siblings. Whichever it is.”
Fletch shrugs, huffing gently. Clay wraps his arm around his brother.
“Don’t worry, I'll come by whenever I can!” He smiles softly. Fletch rolls his eyes, but doesn't pull away.
They didn't say much more after that.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
It was another early morning. But Clay couldn't help but brim with excitment. Boots, tights, a breast coat and a cloak tied together with a bow. Probably one of the most simplistic things he had worn in a long time. And best of all, no tiara to top it off. The amount of glances he gave himself in the mirror was almost laughable.
Everything was perfect. More than perfect! He couldn’t stop smiling.
The decorative tall walls felt a little less cold as he walked down them today. Knowing soon he’d be outside, somewhere else, in the sun and out of that cold gaze.
But one can not truly appreciate warmth without being greeted by true cold. So when that cold gust of wind made itself known, he knew he had to stomach any nervousness.
Her heels had a way of echoing in such a haunting way. Always at a slow, calculated pace.
Wanda stopped short behind Clay. There was a moment of silence before Clay turned to face her. His face neutral, mirroring hers. She scanned him up and down, taking note of every detail.
“I do hope this … phase of yours won’t cause too much trouble.” Her voice is as void of emotion as usual. Her fingers are so gentle he can barely feel them as she fixes mistakes he must’ve somehow missed. For all Clay knows they could be microscopic. No one would notice, but she does. And that’s what matters. “I trust you’ll keep up your studies?”
“Of course.”
“And your schedule?”
“Performative training on even weeks and strategy and combat training on odd.”
She lets out a soft hum. Perhaps in approval. She cups his cheek softly, lifting his head. Clay’s eyes widened a bit at that. This was unlike the usual routine. Different, new. And yet, oh so old.
He’s quick to search her face for something, anything. But he’s met with nothing once more.
“Don’t make me regret trusting you.” And with that - giving him a soft kiss goodbye on the forehead - she disappeared down the hall. Leaving Clay standing. Like all the life had been sucked out of him.
Being too excited would be bad, anyway. It’s probably for the better that he doesn't show up wearing his heart on his sleeve.
So instead of waltzing in there - star eyed, giddy and bouncing off the walls - he walks onto the academy grounds with a soft graceful walk. Not making eye contact, no smiles, no emotions visible. Showing himself to a shady area underneath a tree, he leans against it and simply stares down at the sun warm concrete, waiting for the doors to open.
Closing his eyes, he took in the surroundings with hearing alone. The rustling of leaves, the chatter among students, steps, rolling of bags, the fluttering of wings.
His eyes open as a soft coo rings out from atop his shoulder. Looking down, he’s greeted by one of the many doves that reside at the castle.
“Sunflower, what are you doing here?” Clay asked surprised, scratching her under the chin. The mourning dove scooted over onto his finger and he brought her close, letting her rub against his cheek. “I don’t think I'm allowed to bring pets onto campus. Or at least not into the dormitories”
Clay hums, watching his dove coo excitedly. Busy with attending to the dove parched upon his finger, the sound of approaching footsteps didn’t catch his attention. In fact, he didn’t even notice the new presence until she suddenly spoke up.
“Cute bird” Clay almost shrieked at that. He quickly looked over his shoulder, not expecting the towering woman who had joined him in the shade. He quickly fixed his posture, of which he had foolishly let slump against the wall.
“Ah- uh. Yes. She’s a mourning dove.” He states, watching the dove adjust her position. “Her name is Sunflower”.
It gets quiet after that. Clay glances over at the woman, trying to read her.
“No response …Perhaps” He pulls his gaze away, returning it to the dove. “Fun facts always tend to fill the silence. I guess I could give it a chance.”
“You’ve probably heard their coo’s before. It’s quite a melancholy sound. But people often tend to have a nostalgic feeling toward it.”
“Uh … Yeah I … think so?” The tall lady crosses her arms before leaning back against the wall. There's a soft smile on her face, looking at him with interest. Clay’s eyes can’t help but light up a bit.
“Thier scientific name is Zenaida Macroura. Did you know they make this sharp whistling sound when they take flight? And that sound can even cause other birds to fly off, sort of like an alarm. Oh! And that cooing I was talking about is actually almost always emitted by a male looking for a mate. They even tend to have a prominent cooing perch. They’ll even fight off other males who try to land there!” He looks back up at the redhead with big eyes. However, she looks at him with a more calculated gaze.
He clears his throat.
“Oh, forgive me. I didn’t mean to start rambling.” He takes a deep breath before turning towards her, giving her a short courtesy bow. “My name is Clay Ivo Leonor Moorington. It is a pleasure to meet you” he reaches his hand out to her.
The redhead looks at him for a moment longer before chuckling and grasping his hand. Her handshake is firm, and her hands decently worn. A worker's hand it seems, He makes a mental note to ask later. It is impolite to make small talk that doesn't show mutual interest, after all.
“It’s Macy,” She says with a big smile. Clay looked at her expectantly.
“Macy …”
“Halbert” She adds, pulling her hand out of the handshake and letting it rest on her hip.
“Halbert … Halbert …” The brunette lets the name roll around on his tongue, trying to rack his brain to find any previous connections. “I'm sorry, I don't recognize that name. What does your family work with?”
“Hammers, maces. Stuff like that. I live with my aunt out in Hammerin. It’s no big family name, but we’re still decently respected within that field” She shrugs, leaning back against the wall.
“Oh, so blacksmiths?”
“Oh yeah, partially. We work with basically everything regarding blunt weapons. Even festivities and such”
“Oh my! A wide field of professions. Very respectable, I must say.”
“You’re very enthusiastic. I like it” She bumps his shoulder with a laugh. Clay smiles at her, before glancing over the academy gate.
He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a tiny watch. He tucks it back into his back pocket and starts walking towards the entrance.
“The doors should be opening soon. We best get a move on” Clay adjusts his attire once again as he leaves the shade.
The brunette couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of himself. He had made a friend, had a conversation that went decently well, he had kept his composure. Everything was going perfectly.
That's until someone runs into him full force, throwing him down onto the ground, causing an orchestra gasps to ring out as people turn towards the commotion.
And with that, Clay’s pride is immediately vanquished, replaced with a decent dose of shame. Bracing himself on his elbows he turns to face whoever ran into him.
A skinny man towers over him. Deep dark curls frame his mortified face. His hands tremble as he fidgets.
“Oh- oh my! Oh im so- Oh let me-” He rambles, trying to figure out what to do. Within that time Clay is back up on his feet. The man falls silent, pressing his arms to his side as Clay brushes himself off.
“Oh it’s quite alright. I’m not hurt.” He makes sure to show a polite face.
“A-are you sure? I really didn’t mean to!” The man looks worriedly at him.
“Yes. I am sure. And who are you?”
Whispers start getting exchanged back and forth, growing louder as people take a step back. The young man gulped, trying to fight back tears.
“J-Jestro, your highness.”
Clay makes a mental notion of that before taking a step closer. Jestro flinches away, bracing himself for impact as he shuts his eyes tightly.
But nothing comes.
He peers his eyes open, only to be greeted with a hand awaiting a handshake.
“Despite the tumble, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jestro looks between the hand and Clay’a face several times before shaking it. “You’ve got quite the force on you. A sturdy body. I’m assuming you can pack quite a punch, perhaps? Well, I’ll see you around.” Turning on his heel, Clay returns on his path into the campus as if nothing happened.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
When his dorm door finally slides shut behind him, Clay can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Only to immediately start bouncing off the walls.
The entire dorm room was quite tiny. If he stood on the bed he could reach the ceiling. The bathroom was simple, not leaving much room unless necessary. The main bedroom had a simple desk, a wardrobe and a twin sized bed.
After a simple shower, brushing of teeth and a change of clothes, he laid down atop the tiny bed.
Pushing himself further and further in before hitting a corner.
This space was small. Simple, plain and blank. And as he faced the wall, he realized they were already getting warmer. A cozy, nostalgic and oh so comfortable warmth. Shutting his eyes, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.