How to be a Prince

[Koyako]

lol I think I've read a manga with a similar plot, the character was a boy instead and the prince died there as well. They eventually do find out his identity but doesn't get executed because the king had known from the very beginning cause the boy was more righteous than the dead prince. In the end, he was chosen to save the world or something and then I stopped reading. Good luck with your story.

[Rooster Cult]

Huh, I never heard of that one. I first came up with a prince hiding a dragon in the palace (a plot that might been inspired by HTTYD) which then somehow evolved into this in the middle of the night

[Koyako]

Haha, lol. That happens to me a lot too. I come with this idea and then, something happens and I can't use it anymore, because it gets too complicated to be a drabble and I have to think of a new one. *sigh*

[Programmer]

Thank you, ALG, for insisting I read the summary to this today and getting ME hooked. (Dammit ALG.)

[Rooster Cult]

Lol, I'm glad so many people are liking this idea.

[katomorakwarrior]

Come on! You're killing people here. We need to see if you're as good at writing stories as you are at writing summaries.

[Rooster Cult]

I'm sorry it'll be up asap!

[katomorakwarrior]

Thank you!
(Don't be sorry; rushing makes for worse writing. I'm just telling you to hurry to keep you on your toes.)

[Rooster Cult]

The thing is that I already finished the chapter. this one person *cough* Still Angrylittlegoat *cough* offered to be a proofreader, and I'm just waiting for them to get back to me. I don't want to rush her or anything. Sorry you guys, I'll work on the next one so there will be a new one out soon.

[Rooster Cult]

I’m guessing I should probably start this with an introduction, huh? Well okay then. My name is Olive, I’ve been a peasant my whole life, never knew my Pa, but Ma was pretty great. Sadly she died when I was only a wee child. Honestly I can’t remember how old I was, don’t even know my age right now; probably a young adult. Either way, when Ma died I was forced to live on the streets. I took up a life of stealing and begging. After being attacked once for being a girl I decided to take on the identity of a boy. It never was too hard, I could swear just as much as any of them and knock their teeth out if I wanted to. Also I never looked too far from the part. Just a knife to the hair and no one could ever tell the difference.
But now I’m getting ahead of myself. You want to hear a story, not some rubbish rambling from a street rat.
I’d like to say the day started off as a nice sunny summer day. But it didn’t, it was sunny and it was most certainly summer, but not the kind you folks are used to. In the slums the word “summer” means sticky humid heat. Summer is dozens of people crowded in a street trying to get from their hot stuffy shacks to somewhere else, anywhere else. Summer meant the sickening smell of trash and rotting food blanketing the town, suffocating all those inside. Beggars cried for money to the crowds of people, their voices drowned out by the always louder merchants, or just anyone who had something to sell. All the while pick pockets and thieves took advantage of the bumping and confusion to get their first meal in weeks. In case you’re wondering, I was categorized with the pickpockets.
Moving through the throngs of people was an art in of itself. It was quite easy to tell which ones would be easiest to steal from and where the money was kept in one fell swoop. All you had to do was look at their hands. If their hands were in a pocket or covering a specific part of their clothing, you could bet your bottom dollar that’s where it was. Now came the trickiest part, making it look like an accident. Walking towards her I kept my eyes forward. She was covering an apron pocket. Obviously the lass didn’t come here often, she had this look about her, partially of disgust and partially of pure terror. I wondered if she was coming for a visit, though the reason why any of them high class folks would want to spend a day here was beyond me. As I neared her I stumbled, tripping over my shoes like a big klutz and falling into her. It was just enough for her to stumble and to move her arms out to regain her balance. In an instant my hand snaked into the pocket and back out, clutching the cool metal pieces and pushing them deep into my pockets. Flawless. I silently congratulated myself for a good day’s work as I walked away, disappearing into the crowd like a phantom.
I slipped into the shadows as I neared an alleyway. I hid myself behind a large pile of trash to keep anyone from trying the same trick as me. My earnings weren’t too much, just a couple of bronze coins, the silver was the real prize, probably from the lass who had the interesting definition for a vacation. I put my pay into the bottom of my shoe. Probably the safest place besides in your knickers, I never liked that one too much. I looked up and leaned against the rough brick wall. My feet were sore and my belly was empty. I decided after a nap I would treat myself to some bread, maybe an apple if I wanted to go all out. But just as I closed my eyes I heard an odd voice rise out of the crowd, sounding like a dove in the midst of a bunch of crows.
“Excuse me. Pardon me. I am sorry.” The voice mumbled. I could tell that kind of talking anywhere. I sat up and peered into the streets. Then I saw him. His short blonde hair was free of tangles. His skin was pale instead of the usual gritty brown. His clothes were starched and stuffy looking. That boy was an aristocrat.
I let out a lively chuckle that bordered on an evil laugh. “Oh would you look at we have over here? A wee lost lamb in a throng of wolves.” I said happily.
I hopped to my feet, he was obviously not supposed to be here. No other aristocrat would ever be caught dead in the slums. I’m sure he was just itching to go back home. And yours truly would be glad to help. I walked through the crowd again, the cold coins pressing against the soles of my feet as I walked.
“Oi lad.” I called out as I got close to him. He looked at me with that same amusing look of terror and disgust I had seen on the woman back there. I almost wasn’t able to hold back my laugh. “Whachu’ doing over here in the slums?”
His eyes were darting around like a scared little deer. I watched as he was shoved off to the side, being all stopped in the middle of the street like that. “Well I got a bit lost.” He admitted.
“Aye. I can tell.” I told him. His manner of speaking was cold and polite, unlike my commoner drawl. “I know my way around these parts. How ‘bout I escort you to the higher classed folks?”
His fearful look turned into that of pure relief, it almost made me sorry to be tricking him like this, but I’m sure just his coat could feed me for a whole month. “Really? I would be obliged to you for the effort.” I actually snickered when he said this. God’s wounds, did they always act like this?
“Be my pleasure lad.” I told him, starting to walk away. I gestured for him to follow. “Just come with me. I’ll take you along the back way. Won’t want your fancy pants being pick pocketed now would we?”
He tried to keep up with my long strides, but his dainty ones didn’t quite seem to cut it. I watched out of the corner of my eye. He had this annoying air about him. With his arms straight against his side, his shoulders squared and his chin up. I just wanted to knock him over the head for the way he walked.
When I was sure we were far enough away I stopped in the middle of the alley. It was one of many, no other souls seemed to be around. It was also close enough to the higher classed folks so he could go running back to his mummy when I was done.
“Hey, why did we stop?” I could hear the cold anger in his voice. I turned around and in a flash I had the tip of a knife to his throat.
“Make one noise and I’ll cut, lad.” I said lad in a snarky tone. “Don’t even move. Just give me everything you got right down to your knickers. And if you got anything hidden in them, that too.”
I waited oh so patiently as he tried to compute. His eyes were quite calm and calculating despite the fact that he was getting mugged. He suddenly moved. His hand grasping my wrist. In a second my arm was twisted behind me and my knife had clattered to the ground.
“Do you think I would let myself get mugged by a skinny tramp like you?” His voice was just as cold as his eyes. I let out a laugh.
“Oh this is too good. The wee lamb is fighting back.” I could feel his grip loosen, he wasn’t expecting me to laugh at his pathetic attempt. I slammed him against the wall easily. His footing was pathetic, couldn’t even withstand me pushing against him. I slithered out of his grasp and looked for my knife. On the ground were the usual piles of trash and I saw a cracked jar. Hooking my foot under it, I kicked it up I caught it in my hands. The lad was still trying to gather himself. I guess I got him pretty good. With one harsh crack over the head the jar shattered to pieces and the boy fell to the ground. I let out another laugh.
“Didn’t put up much of a fight did you?” I mocked. “Guess I was right about you being a lamb…” My mocking trailed off as I watched something crawl from his head. Blood. “No. no. no. Oh bloody hell no.” I cursed. I fell to my knees and slapped his face. “Oi, Lad. Wake up. I can’t have you dying on me.”
Out of all my years of robbery, I had never been pushed to murder, no matter how unintentional. I felt sick, like throwing up. The world spun around me in a crazy blur. I was just a young girl. I had just killed an aristocrat. How could this be happening? My hands shook and my heart galloped at full speed. It was ok, I was sure no one would notice him gone. I would just get out of here before anyone saw. It wouldn’t be traced to a nobody like me.
But then I heard three words yelled out from not too far away that ripped me from my thoughts. “YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS?”
There was only one prince in our city. I had just killed the crown prince.