How to be a Prince

[katomorakwarrior]

Now miss whateveryournameis, that is what happens to irrational thinkers.
Hard things over heads kill. It a fact of life. Like chocolate chip cookies go with milk.
Sorry, I talk to characters more than I talk with authors.
Anyway, good start! Can't wait for more.

[Rooster Cult]

well I panicked. Ok? I didn't want that annoying wee lamb to be screaming up a storm. I'm just guessing I hit him a little too hard

Lol that's ok. and thank you so much!

[Rooster Cult]

All my street smarts would never have prepared me for this. On my knees hovering over the body, my heart which had been racing beforehand had stopped. It seemed like everything had stopped except for the blood extending for the wee lamb’s head. I had made a mistake I would never recover from. I’d lose my head for this. I watched my world fall apart around me. In the distance I could still hear the faint voice calling for the prince. But it didn’t seem to exist in my little bubble of crumbling reality. I knew I should run. I knew I should hide. But somehow I just couldn’t. It felt so… wrong.
I had to do something though. Otherwise I would be killed. I forced my shock deep into the back of my heart to feel later. I stood up on shaking legs and slapped my face a couple of times.
“Okay Olive.” I said to myself. “I can do this, all I have to do is walk away. No problem.” I turned around and started taking a couple of steps away. “Okay, just one foot in front of another-I can't do this!” I bursted out and ran back to the boy on the ground. I grabbed my knife from the ground and cut my hair even shorter. “I’m an idiot. A bloody idiot.” I murmured. I could hear the voice coming closer and my hands shook in panic. I grabbed his clothes and wrestled them off of him, shedding my own filthy rags. I was glad his clothes were black, they didn’t really show the blood. I looked in his pockets and found a hanky. I tried my best to wipe all the dirt from my face and hair. I could feel the immediate difference between our clothes. Mine were light and worn, hanging off my body. These were almost too tight, they were stuffy and I could barely move, none the less breathe. Once again I cursed myself out, but didn’t turn around and run. I remembered his posture and tried to imitate it. My nostrils narrowed, my chin up, the look on my face that of cool disinterest, and my arms folded over my chest. I took one dainty step and then another walking right up to the voice instead of letting him see the evidence.
“I am over here.” I said, my voice not sounding quite posh enough. I met up with the voice and saw a tall man with short brown hair and a simple suit. A butler? A servant? I couldn’t tell.
“Your highness!” The look on his face turned to that of shock and concern. “You are filthy. Are you ok?”
I wanted to smack his face for calling me filthy, he might have called me trash for all I care. But I kept my retort him and tried to suppress a twitch. “I apologize. I got lost in the slums.” I said simply. The man nodded in acknowledgement. Like just walking into the slums could turn you filthy. I forced my angry down to where I kept my shock. My charade was going well for now. But for how long? I didn’t even know my own name. How long would I be able to keep from screwing everything up? I should’ve run when I could.
The butler brought me to a carriage, fancier than I have ever seen before. The horses were large and pure white. The wood was carved with spiraling roses and thorns, plated with what looked like pure gold. The heavy blood red curtains kept any prying eyes from seeing into the carriage. My breath caught in surprise. I felt dizzy and hesitated as the butler opened the door for me.
‘Just keep it inside.’ I told myself. ‘Don’t let them know.’ I sucked in a breath and forced an air of arrogance around myself. I stepped into the carriage and sat myself down as gracefully as I could. I looked all around me at the soft velvet cushions and the ornate wood carvings even more fancy inside.
‘Yep,’ I thought as I watched the door close. ‘I’m screwed.’

[Rooster Cult]

I'm a little late
well I made a piece of art during the little break
I drew the currently unnamed prince who is currently my favorite character, oops

[katomorakwarrior]

ooh, very nice...
I can't wait for a new chapter.

[Rooster Cult]

*switches in anime protaganist voice*
I can feel the laziness and procrastination threatening to pull me in, but I can also feel all of my friends... they are lending me their strength and supporting me. I can not fail now! Not when everyone is looking to me!

[Rooster Cult]

The carriage ride passed in a fog, an absolute panic. My hands couldn’t keep still my eyes were focused on my shoes the whole time. I was excessively thankful the man sitting across from me didn’t say a word. Seemed like these high class folks never were too much for conversation. I guessed that it was easier to keep quiet than to say all the wrong things. Too soon we arrived at the castle. I had seen it from a distance, the overwhelmingly large building always looming over head. I didn’t want to go out now. I just wanted to go back. I didn’t care about riches and power, I just wanted to stay alive. But like a sleepwalker I left the carriage. The castle was even bigger up close. The towers rose into the sky, reminding me of tales of princesses and dragons. I entered the doors into a world that seemed bigger than the entire slums. Just more sparkling, and the only residents were maids and servants who scurried about. Before we made our way to, well, I had no idea, my butler asked for a bath to be drawn for me. The idea of a bath for me was alien. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one. Had Ma still been alive at that time? I had no idea. My eyes skimmed over the tapestries hanging on the walls and the vases high up on pedestals. The air was perfumed; it smelled like money and dainty ladies. The roof was high and painted with intricate flowing figures. Rainbows crossed on the ground in intricate patterns as light spilled in from stained glass windows. I’d been in a church once, and it was a dump compared to this place. I took a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs, but my lungs refused to fill all the way.
But standing here in awe was not something that prince would do. Weren’t something any of them aristocrats would do. I needed to act like I owned the place. I forced myself to take a step. Then another. My jaw was clenched and I walked through the main hall. The maids scurried out of my way. I was used to ducking out of the way of others, not the other way ‘round. The butler followed besides me, though I didn’t know why. He was like a stray pup on my heels. I would never be able to keep this up if I was under such a strict watch. My body was tense, ready to fight. I had run myself into a corner and now I was trapped between a wall and death.
By watching the man closely, I was able to tell which door to go through. The way his steps slowed and he got ready to stop, unintentionally telling me what to do. I took the door as we neared and opened it, gaining a confused look from the butler. Apparently I wasn’t even supposed to open doors for myself. I entered in to what seemed to be a room, but bigger than any house. A large bed lay inside the center of the room, a canopy stretching above it. A wardrobe adorned with gold, a desk, a bedside table, all of them carved meticulously in mahogany. My eyes traveled over rows of books. A rarity as each of them were hand written and had drawn.
“Your bath will be ready soon your highness.” He said, he gave me a small bow and left, letting the door click behind him.
Back and forth. Now that I was alone, my true emotions broke through. Back and forth I paced. My feet smacking on the ground in complete rage. At what, I didn’t know. I just wanted to blame something. My hand clenched into a fist and I slammed it into the wall as hard as I could. The resounding pain that shot through my arm knocked some sense back into me. I collapsed to the ground, tears stinging my eyes as I cradled my injured hand. I needed to keep control. I had to be the prince. And now that I was in his room, maybe I could learn a bit more about him. I forced myself to my feet and started scouring the room. What I was looking for, I didn’t know. My eyes finally fell upon the bookshelf. I was a rare gem in the slums, knowing how to read a total of twenty words and how to sound out all the letters. Ma once had an old story book, no one knew where she got it. Only that she had a pretty good education and she tried to teach me to read before she died. Maybe it was time to finish what she started. One book by another, I tore them off the shelf and looked over the golden pages. They were mainly maps, star charts, and what seemed to be history books. When I got to the end I found a well-worn large book. I flipped through the pages. I was a Bible, probably bought from the pope. I set it down on the fluffy bed with the others. There was nothing else to look for. Then I saw it on the desk. It was a book, adorned with a plain brown cover, no words, no designs. I picked it up softly. And opened it into a random page. Unlike the others, the letters were not uniform. Scrawled with no intent to be bought or sold, there were many places where ink seemed to blot or run on the ends of words. I flipped through the pages. About halfway through, the writing just cut off, leaving blank pages.
“Did the wee lamb write this?” I asked myself. Looking at the desk, I could see a bottle of ink and an ink pen. Softly I opened the book, my mind struggling to make out the words. Half of them I didn’t know at the time and I just had to guess. This is what it said:


My name is Leonardo, however, the nickname Leon has stuck with me my whole life. I am the prince and the only child of my father, the king. Now some may wonder why I write this journal of my life. It is simply because I am alone. So many people fawning over me. So many suitors and aristocrat guests visiting me. Many a person tells me that I am lucky to have such wealth and power. But when I visit the market, I feel a different kind of atmosphere within the commoners and tradesman. At home, everyone is just lying and faking in order to gain approval or money. Every word and smile is not even skin deep. But among the others, I feel a true feeling of companionship. I want that. But I will not find it among my present company. So I have decided to write this journal. Dear reader, I do not know when you will find this, perhaps when I am old and the king, perhaps when I am dead and gone… perhaps never. But when you do find this, I want you not to consider me as a prince, but a simple human being in need of someone to speak with. And I will treat you as my only friend, though I may be talking to no one at all. With only you will I be tell my true emotions when outside of the pages I close everything up. I do believe that within time, we can become true friends.


The page cut off there. Signed with his name, Leon. I softly fingered the name. I could feel my stomach tied in knots. He sounded like someone I might’ve become friends with, and laughed at when he went off on his tangents or used large words I didn’t know. But now, he was dead. Dead and gone. It really struck me this time, ‘specially when he called me his only friend.
“Oh wee lamb.” I whispered. “I ain’t your friend.” The tears came back. “I’m sorry.” I whispered “I really am. I wish I were dead instead of you.” My hands clenched the book and my shoulders shook. “I’m so sorry.”

[clip ♡]

ahhh ;u;

[katomorakwarrior]

BooHoo!!!!!

Sorry, now I'm sad. It's your fault. Remember that.
*sniff-sniff*
(Only way you can make me feel better is by writing more. )

[Rooster Cult]

Oh I made you cry
Good good, My plan is working quite nicely
Slowly disappears into the shadows.