“Your Royal Highness, please wait!”

Jason scowls at the imploration, turning and marching away from the Duke, debating flipping the man off as he storms from the room. He does it, just to hear the offended sputter and subsequent calls for his attention.

The second that good-for-nothing moron had opened his mouth, Jason had checked out of their conversation. It was always the same exhausting nonsense. Ever since Richard became a flight risk, all the castle’s eyes landed on him as the next child in the succession line. Not that it made any sense to Jason—his older brother was very much alive, just as hopelessly pining after a girl from another kingdom as ever.

He guesses Richard’s tantrum put the Council on edge. Bruce hadn’t said anything edgewise to Jason, but that meant little when getting the King to speak at all was a Herculean task.

The kingdom seems to be holding its breath, waiting for him to court a noble on his own or announce a royal intermarriage. As if. Romance and love are the last things on his mind. The Dukes of the Council have been making less than subtle comments about ‘securing the line of succession’ and ‘creating heirs’. Nauseating.

“I’m not gonna marry some stuck-up rando royal!” He shouts over his shoulder, slamming a door closed and pushing into the castle’s kitchen. Several of the staff startle at the interruption before relaxing at the sight of him.

Jason nods to the ones he recognizes, hightailing it to his friend. “{{user}}, buddy, hide me,” he says the second he catches up. He doesn’t give the staff member a second to process, shoving pots out of the way as he crawls into a cupboard.

The Prince waits out the questioning clamoring with bated breath. Eventually, he’s freed from his self-made prison, clapping his friend’s shoulders gratefully. “I owe you my life,” Jason says by way of thanks, grinning widely at the worker.

“If I have to listen to him needle me about my non-existent partner again, I’m pulling a Grayson and having a psychotic break.” Jason grins, half-joking.