Silver moonlight fringed through the tall marble columns and shone on the intricately mosaicked floor. The cool night breeze rustled the rose bushes, taking with it some of the red petals.
It was a picturesque view, but Mikael and Deon paid it no attention. They were too engrossed in their own thoughts that they briskly walked past the wide corridor leading to Butler Sebastian's quarters.
Unable to stand his curiosity, Mikael asked, "Why didn't you tell your father that he got the wrong idea? If you told him you sneaked out to do a test of courage, maybe rather than disappointment, he'd feel proud of you instead..."
"That doesn't change the fact that I caused trouble for everyone. I was selfish and I admit it." Deon said. It seemed like the king's guilt-tripping worked wonders as he was reflecting on his actions.
"Still… You could have gotten away with a lighter punishment." Mikael then felt resentment toward Sir Edmund, "It's your guard's fault! I bet he purposely twisted his report to look like you came out to play!"
Now that they were severely punished, Mikael had long forgotten that he rooted for Deon's harsh discipline. Even as a spirit, his human characteristic of being a turncoat* when the punishment involved him remained.
"But when I put myself in his shoes, my actions did seem like I just went out to play" Deon defended his guard.
But Mikael did not buy his story. He was pretty sure that Sir Edmund deliberately crafted his report as revenge for making him bow down to commoners. Mikael was once again reminded of Deon's fatal flaw, 'this kid… He's so gullible. It's like he's always finding the good in everyone. Maybe the reason why he has a clear aura is that he's yet to be tainted by the ugly reality. That personality trait fits a hero but it's also dangerous.' Mikael analyzed his partner like a book, looking into the young prince's hazel brown eyes. Then he shrugged his shoulders, 'Well, it's good for me if he's easy to manipulate.'
The two of them arrived on the east wing of the castle which served as the servant's quarters.
Ttap…
Deon lightly knocked on the wooden door, "Sebastian? Are you there?"
Not long after, the old butler came out still in his black uniform, "Your highness, do you need me for anything?"
"Yes… my father wants me to join tomorrow's competition incognito and told me to get a set of armor and weapon from you…" Deon trailed off, downcast. He still could not believe that his father was cruel enough to throw him in a hunting zone alone.
The butler looked at Deon with pity, "I understand, your highness. Please follow me."
He picked up a gas lamp from his table and led them through winding corridors. Mikael lost count of the turns they made to arrive at the Imperial armory. While thinking of how large the palace might be, the clinking of keys brought his attention back to the old man.
Sebastian held a ring of antique-looking keys. He unhesitatingly singled out one that looked indistinguishable among the cluster and inserted it on the keyhole.
Kachaa…
The butler pulled the door open and proceeded inside to light up the torches attached to the walls.
A few moments later, Sebastian returned to the entrance and gestured for Deon to come inside, "Your highness, the armors are on the left, the weapons are on the right while the artifacts are on the far wall. Please take your time in choosing."
Mikael and Deon stepped inside and were greeted with an amazing view. The long, rectangular room had an assortment of weapons, from daggers to swords to bows to lances to spears, that covered every inch of the right wall. While on the left side, armors and shields gleaming in the orange torchlight hung on wooden mannequins like ghostly soldiers. Musty air circulated inside the room indicating that it has not been used regularly.
"Can we take as much as we want?" Deon asked Sebastian.
"You can, sire but I would advise against it." The butler held up his forefinger as if in a lecture, "for one, the armor itself is heavy so equipping a large shield and a bunch of weapons that you do not have mastery over will only slow you down."
"I see…" Deon trudged toward the armors and eyed the set shining in gold. He envisioned himself in such stately armor, thinking how awesome he would appear – to which Sebastian poured cold water as he firmly said, "I also STRONGLY discourage you from taking anything fancy as you will be hunting in disguise."
Seeing the defeated look on his prince, Sebastian kindly elaborated, "It is for your own safety, your highness. Countless mercenaries will be joining the hunt. Some of them undoubtedly engaged in shady business. In fact, several participants reported robbery of precious belongings in the recent years."
"I-I understand, Sebastian…" Deon shuddered at the thought of people targeting him in the competition.
He moved on to pick a modest, black iron-plated armor with leather shoulder guards. It came with a small round shield and an iron helmet that effectively covered his royal mug.
Deon turned toward the weapons.
As a student in the spearmanship department of the royal academy, Mikael thought Deon's choice would be obvious however, he saw the prince's eyes flash toward the handsome sword mounted on the wall beside a spear. He did not miss Deon's hand that hesitantly stretched toward the sword before grabbing the spear next to it.
The butler helped him equip his battle gear. After which, Sebastian stepped back a few paces to appraise Deon.
Teary-eyed, the old man sighed, "I cannot believe that the young master has grown up this much. You look dignified even in shabby equipment, your highness…"
Mikael swooped beside Sebastian, but no matter how closely he examined Deon, the prince appeared to be anything but dignified. On the contrary, he looked like a child dressed in his father's clothing. As he was on the skinny side, Deon's armor slipped down frequently, and his shield-wielding arms trembled slightly as if going numb from carrying the shield's weight.
'Huh? Are we seeing the same person or is this the so-called blind parental love?' Mikael grimaced.
The longer he stared, the more worried he became, 'Can we really survive a fierce hunting competition in this state?'
Then, Sebastian approached the wall-mounted glass display cabinet which housed sparkling jewels befitting of royalty. There were countless rings, earrings, bracelets, and necklaces that looked out of place in an imperial armory.
Sebastian carefully picked one silver ring, "Your highness, this space ring that can store up to fifty items. Inside it are provisions that can last for the whole hunt's duration. Please take it with you but do not tell anyone about it."
Mikael examined the ring. It was reminiscent of a 17th century Memento Mori ring where poison is stored inside a small compartment underneath an elaborate skull engraving. However, the space ring differed in that a complex mana circle was engraved instead of a skull.
"Of course. I can't possibly say that I have such a precious artifact with me…" Deon concurred, "but wouldn't you get in trouble for this, Sebastian? If my father notices that I took this with me, you'll be punished!"
"That is why you must be very careful not to lose it, your highness. My life is in your hands." Sebastian good-naturedly smiled as he took Deon's hand, placed the ring on the prince's palm, and cupped them with his wrinkly hands.
Mikael had thought Deon was strangely polite to the butler, but now, he understood why. The old man acted more like a doting grandfather than a servant. He probably took care of Deon more than his own parents did. Sure, his mother, the queen, protested for his welfare but she did not dare cross her husband as though his favor outweighed Deon's safety. This butler, on the other hand, gave Deon everything he could without regard for his own life.
Mikael's insides burned with unintentional envy. He wondered how his life would have been if he had the help of someone like butler Sebastian. Would he still forfeit his life or would he persevere until the storm of bad luck subsided?
--Chapter End--
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*A turncoat is a person who shifts allegiance from one loyalty or ideal to another, betraying or deserting an original cause by switching to the opposing side or party.