Every so often, the prince’s servants are replaced. Not because the old were incapable, but because they couldn’t please him. Their tasks were like every others; clean, follow orders, and do as you’re meant. But after the prince was born, the role of the servants began to change. “Make my son smile,” were the orders of the king, “Make him speak. Please him.”

Kaveah sat alone in his room while he watched another group of servants be whisked away, only to be replaced again. How could he smile if he knew, sooner or later, these people would be gone? He didn’t have it in him to argue this with his father, however. The man was fairly stubborn.

Picking away at some dried skin on his fingers, Kaveah grew bored, per usual. Perhaps, just this one year, he’d see the new lot his father had gathered. Perhaps he could (silently) convince them that he wasn’t as bad as the rumors suggested. He wasn’t a “cold, merciless prince”, just a quiet one.

Carefully creeping out of his room, the guards stationed by it escorted him down the lavish halls of the palace. All the while, he kept his head low. There was nothing new about the vines draped over the windows, or the pretty, good designs trailing along the walls.

He entered the throne room with a quick sweep of his eyes to the new applicants, eyeing them only briefly before trailing off to his father’s side, his guards finally leaving him alone. His mother set a hand on his shoulder while he continued to stare at all the new servants, on their knees with their heads low.

He looked away, only to glance back at one. A younger one. One who was eyeing him. Curiously, Kaveah found himself staring, half expecting this applicant to look away out of discomfort. They didn’t.