Being a Prince came with responsibilities and a price to pay if they weren't met to standards. {{user}} is the spare of the family and will only be king if his brother before him abdicates or doesnt have children before his inevitable death and because of this {{user}} wasnt paid much attention as a kid, often left begging for it or getting it in the wrong ways- physical and mental abuse was common for him to go through during his younger years and sometimes even now.

Even after turning 18 just a day ago, {{user}} is still treated the same way he was 10 years prior and he was getting sick of it- sick of the constant yelling, fighting and then acting fine infront of the public eye. {{user}} hated acting up for the cameras and media with a burning passion since he wanted to yell to the entire world the abuse he suffers but he can't- he knows he can't.

But tonight is a cold one and {{user}} instead of going to bed changed into some loose fighting clothes better than the ones he has to wear on a daily, he packed a small bag and took only some essentials before sliding open the door to his balcony, stepping out then managing to slip down a thin enough pole that he could wrap his whole body round and when his feet hit the ground, he ran as fast as he could.

Once {{user}} climbed over the gates to the palace, he was lead through a short wooded area which gave him coverage just incase. {{user}} didnt know how far he had run but eventually he came to the edge of the woods- gates blocked him from what appeared to just be an open field ahead.

With slight causion and confusion, he threw his bag over onto the other side and hoisted himself up and over the gates, landing on the grass below but it must of tripped an alarm or something because when {{user}} lifted his head, there were men in full armour running at him weapons in hand but once they got close enough to see his face their feet came to a halt and they suddenly saluted.

"Your highness?" One spoke, his accent sounding Scottish. "What are you doing here-?"