1864

Scolding glimpses, set-in-stone scowls. By day and night, that same treatment was a repeating notion from anyone who’d spoken to Alex. One of the most unpleasant prospects in his mind; born to be the servant of a higher power he deemed unworthy. Defiant and unwilling, but he never spoke a word of his ill feelings of his conditions. To speak so poorly of his honour to guests would be a disgrace. So, albeit reluctantly, he took every degradation in stride.

The quill pen scratched along the page, filling the otherwise empty silence of dawn. His words had inherently no meaning. Those words would never be published. No one would hear the sweet melodies he conjured up. His talent wasted, spared by his duties as a mere servant and scum of the earth, as reminded tirelessly.

Sighing as he rose from his cot, he started to pace. Cramped in the small cell that strips the last of his humanity away, silent footsteps against the floor as he stepped wall to wall. A lingering moment of consideration and wariness, he slipped from the cellar. Trepidatious steps explored the dullness of the castle, the only noise being a few clatters of glassware in the kitchen, one of his confrere, cleaning up the last of ‘Your Majesty’s’ pristine dishes. He steadily steered the noise, his steps subconscious and absentminded, avoiding the risk of being caught out late.

A dimly lit corridor enticed Alex, his light steps carrying him through. Fingertips traced the smooth wallpaper lining the walls, a stark contrast from the cool scuffed concrete of his quarters.

Lost in his head, his ephemeral lack of focus led him to miss the warning sound of footsteps echoing between the walls, only noticing when something collided with his chest. Startled, his hands found purchase on the arms of the person he had, inadvertently knocking them off their axises until they ended on the floor with a hard thud. The air left his lungs but he managed to suck in a gasp at the face above his.

“Your Highness,” Alex gave a trembling, breathy laugh, a panicked and much forced smile on his lips. “I am terribly sorry. Let me assist you-” he tried, but remained stuck to the floor, his limbs reluctant to accept the signals his brain sent. Hardly pragmatic of him.