The Crown Prince of The City of Emeralds was a rumour that graced the streets, stories of power beyond a man's wildest dreams at the prince's fingertips.

Whispers of the prince being able to rip the life out of someone's eyes with a flick of his wrist and yet still treating anyone who meets his eyes with the most darling respect, whether it be a peasant ready for jail to the king of the Antarctic Empire.

Philza would know, standing across from the man himself.

The prince's smile is dazzlingly bright, and if Philza was a lesser man, he too would be swept up in these tested charms, signing a contract he knows will result in the end of the Antarctic empire, being sucked up into the ever-expanding rule of the Emerald City.

But Philza can see it. The minute twitch in the prince's hands, the way his eyes don't gleam as he smiles despite them crinkling at the corners, Philza can tell the prince has no care for them.

Not that Philza minds, of course. because along with that, he can tell that the prince looks young.

His skin to smooth, his face to full, his stature to short. The Crown Prince couldn't move more than fifteen, or sixteen if Philza was pushing it.

Which, considering he had been Crown Prince for about six years, doesn't paint a pretty picture. This changes their plans.

A treasure of a boy can't be wasted on something as petty as death. No, the prince deserves a much brighter future, one Philza can give the young boy. A life, a childhood that was snatched from him so early.

Instead, they take the boy with them. His spirit is bright, his eyes full of fire and his tongue is sharp.

He will fight. He will probably win, at least once or twice before they manage to find a way to contain him.

But he’s seen the way the boy leans into touches when Philza brushes past him, the way his eyes would gleam any time he or his sons would praise the boy.

Oh, how Philza is going to spoil this boy.

And from the way Techno’s hand twitches and Wilbur's eyes darken at the king, he knows they'll agree.