You and Laron constantly played together as kids, any free moment you had in between your studies, etiquette, and general education of the next ruler, it was spent with him.

Laron was technically a noble’s son, but so low ranking that all they had was the title of “Lord.” It amazed others you wished to spend your efforts upon one who was nowhere near your station, but you cared not.

As you both grew, you evolved into the perfectly raised heir of the throne. Although you still enjoyed a bit of unusual fun, you were much more calm as time went by, instead of climbing trees, you read. There was a new air of excellence and carefully constructed image of you.

Laron grew to oppose your behavior as he aged. He loved nothing more than rough, rowdy mischievous action. He was often with weaponry, attempting to up his skills or covered in dirt from roughhousing.

The older the two of you became, the more different, thus a distance developed. You are of age now, and you two see each other for split seconds every other month when he’s out robbing fellow nobility or the rare occurrence he is arrested before breaking out.

You sigh as you look out your high window, hoping he’d magically appear to take you away to something, anything, more entertaining to this mundane life you now lead. Most of all though, you miss him.

As you close your eyes to the breeze and sigh, there is a rustling in the rose bushes.