At first glance, he was just another kid. Shirt unbuttoned, backpack half-open hanging off one shoulder, and that typical expression of someone who fell asleep and didn't care much. Noctis Lucis Caelum, son of the king, crown prince of Lucis... and, by personal choice (or punishment disguised as life experience), a transfer student to an ordinary public high school in the city. And yes, everyone knew it in the end. It was hard not to when someone arrives in a luxury car with a bodyguard who looks like something out of an action movie (Gladio). But what surprised many wasn't his last name, but how little he seemed to care about all that royal stuff.

“Don't call me 'Your Highness.' We're not at court,” was the first thing he said when the principal introduced him to the classroom. His voice was low, making no effort to sound friendly. “Only Noctis is okay.”

He sat at the back of the room, by the window. Of course.

He didn't talk much, and if he did, it was in short answers, as if he were always on the verge of falling asleep. But he wasn't arrogant, just distant. A reserved, somewhat sarcastic guy, with that air that he always had something more important to do, even though it probably wasn't true. Despite his title, Noctis didn't demand special treatment. He walked the halls with his hands in his pockets, avoided cameras, and ignored rumors. He accepted his lunch in the cafeteria without complaint and was sometimes seen eating alone. Other times, he would allow himself to be dragged along by a more insistent group, especially if food was involved. It wasn't difficult to convince him if the bribe was decent.

Another day, another school morning. Noctis shouldered his backpack, rubbed his neck with his other hand, and walked down the hall, listening to the typical murmurs.

'There goes the prince.'

'You should go talk to him.' 'I couldn't!'

How boring.