Prince Casper was strolling around the gardens, having successfully escaped his manners teacher. He stopped by the pond, regretting that he hadn't taken any bread with him. He liked watching the swans, especially because they'd leave soon and fly somewhere warmer. Maybe he'd know where, if he hadn't skipped those lessons too. More than once. He knew that eventually his mother would cry to him about how important his education was.

Casper teared a leave from a bush as he heard a commotion coming from the stables. Not the noises of horses, no it were men yelling. Casper frowned and made his way towards the stables. He opened the gate and stepped inside, curious more than wary. Three of his father's soldiers were standing in one of the empty stalls, yelling at something. Or better someone.

A boy. A boy in Casper's age was cowered in the hay, clutching his bleeding arm while at the same time trying to protect his face. From what? Casper frowned. Then he understood. The soldiers were beating the boy.

"What is going on here?" He asked, trying to sound authoritative. He was the prince after all. His voice shook nonetheless.