"...workable."
'Was the pregnant pause really necessary?' Atlas internally rolled his eyes. Externally, he kept his perfectly agreeable demeanor and ecstatically replied.
"Perfect! I ask you to get working on the plans immediately then. Bring it to me in the Baron's manor after you're done and we shall see about proceeding from there."
Taking a few steps forward, the young prince looked up at the blacksmith with an earnest expression.
"Remember Douglas, this town's future rests upon reliable shoulders. We are all counting on you. I'm counting on you."
Douglas' expression underwent a change. His easy-going, prideful features became extra serious and solemn. Staring down at the little prince, the middle-aged, gossip-loving, blacksmith exhaled heavily before slamming his right hand against his left chest.
Thud! The sudden, heavy thud startled Atlas and made him flinch a step back.
"You can count on me, milord!" Douglas Wootz screamed. "I'll build the best darn forge this town–no, this world's ever seen!!"
"Definitely a boast but I like your spirit! I wish you luck, Dougie." Atlas gestured with a balled fist.
Douglas took the regard in stride, nodded his head, turned around, and walked away. He had a noticeable pep in his step as he went away, signifying his eagerness and excitement to start working.
"I like that man. He's got heart," Baron Helm commented.
"If only he talked less," Atlas quietly mumbled before turning to look at the Baron. "That should be it for my morning appointments, right? Baron Helm?"
Hearing his liege's question, the Baron shot a quick look around before nodding his head in answer.
"Indeed, my liege. Although, I have to say. I wasn't expecting my liege to address the citizens with such intimacy. Hearing your words brought tears to my eyes and stirred the long-forgotten faith within my heart."
"Faith is a good thing, Baron Helm. It gives us hope even in the most hopeless of times. Besides," Atlas casually shrugged his shoulders. "I simply spoke the truth."
That was a lie.
"I've always considered my survival and arrival to this town as an act of the divine. Today, I simply voiced my thanks to my benefactor." The young prince looked up and regarded the sky with a distant look. His beautiful features and earnest expression combined to give him a pious, God-loving look.
And as if to respond, a lone ray of pure, golden sunlight broke past the barrier of clouds and landed on the young prince's face. His unkempt, golden hair and sky-blue eyes glimmered with unworldly resplendence.
Looking at this scene, Baron Helm could not help but wonder. 'My liege really is the Son of Heaven. A blessed child of the gods.'
Meanwhile, Atlas flinched from the sudden sunlight attack and cursed up a storm. 'Sh*t! My eyes!! It burns! This fu*king ray of sunlight! God-fu*king-ARGH!'
Remember children, never stare directly at sunlight without wearing some form of visual protection. It burns.
A lot.
"Baron Helm! Water! I need some water to put in my eyes!!"
---
Dining Room.
Baron Helm's Manor.
"Are you sure you're feeling better, my liege? Here's another bowl of cool water if you need it," the pig-looking Baron asked in a worried tone, holding a wooden bowl filled with clean water. His tall, obese body towered next to a small, scrawny, prepubescent youth who had his face immersed in a similar-looking bowl.
"...glugluglug, ah!" Removing his face from within the bowl, the young prince blinked multiple times with great frequency. It took him a few seconds to grow comfortable at which point he replied, "Oh, sweet, painless vision. How I've missed you."
Rubbing his eyes, the bridge of his nose, and other areas of his face with his hands, Atlas was interrupted for a moment by the Baron.
"Oh, I've brought a clean towel, my liege." Baron Helm offered.
"Ah, perfect." Taking the dry, coarse towel from the Baron's hand, Atlas started to dry his face. With the proper device employed for the job, the process ended quickly and smoothly.
Well, not smoothly for…
"This towel's very rough. It's chafing against my skin," Atlas complained. "Is this what we use now? When did we resort to becoming animals?"
"S-sorry, my liege," Baron Helm profusely apologized. "I-I think I have a satin handkerchief given to me by my mother before her passing that you could use to–"
"Tutut, too late, Baron Helm," the young prince interrupted. "You should've given it to me before you gave me this animal hide to wipe my face with. It's too late now. Let's just forget it."
Atlas threw the towel back to the shamed Baron and pushed aside the bowl of water on the table in front of him.
"It was an early start today and I'm feeling hungry. Let's first eat something before we do anything else."
"O-of course, my liege." The Baron hurriedly replied and scampered off with the wet towel and the extra bowl of water. A few seconds later, Atlas heard a yell.
"Rohm! Serve me and his highness breakfast at the dining table!"
"Understood, master."
Baron Helm reentered the room and took a seat at the opposite end of the table. He then looked at the young prince, who was patting down his slightly wet hair and awkwardly initiated a conversation.
"S-so, my liege. May I ask what plans you have for today?"
At his question, Atlas stopped styling his hair and shot the Baron an annoyed gaze. Baron Helm felt his heart seize and immediately wondered what he had done wrong. Before he could arrive at a conclusion, Atlas let out an exaggerated sigh and spoke.
"After we finish eating breakfast, we have to head up to the coal mining spot and address the people there. The coal is very important for what I have planned for this town and we can't have any problems with its mining."
"After that's over, I guess we will return here and continue with my lessons. A few hours of that and then we'll head out into the town and ensure that the tearing down and reconstruction of facilities is going smoothly. Then some supervising, some management, resolving some problems that are inevitably going to occur, some of this, some of that, and then finally, return back here and wait for the reports to arrive."
"I-I see," Baron Helm nervously gulped. He looked overwhelmed by the amount of work the young prince had planned to do during the day.
Butler Rohm entered the room just then, holding a tray filled with two bowls of steaming gruel. He placed the bowls in front of their respective diners and retreated.
After whiffing twice at the odorless meal and wincing at the severely decreased quantity –not even the Baron was free from Atlas' rationing– the Baron looked up only to find the young prince staring at him.
"My liege? Aren't you going to eat?" The Baron asked, seeing that the prince hadn't yet picked up his spoon.
"You first, Baron Helm. You first." The young prince replied with a serene smile.
Hot tears gushed to the Baron's eyes. An expression showing that he felt incredibly moved appeared on his face. 'The prince is giving me, his servant, the honor of eating first!'
It was common, noble courtesy for the younger members of a household to wait until their elders had taken the first bite at a meal. Of course, this courtesy only applied to individuals of the same standing.
Atlas Constantine, by the virtue of being born a prince, did not have to wait for the Baron to have the first bite.
And yet he still did! The meaning behind his actions was clear.
'I have his highness' respect. Although I'm clearly unworthy of holding his respect, it would be terribly rude of me to refuse him.'
Baron Helm mouthed the first spoonful with tears streaming down his face. 'My liege! Your servant is unworthy of such honor!'
Yet, satisfaction and contentment filled and overflowed from the Baron's heart.
If previously, his respect and adoration for the young prince had been at a full hundred, it had now broken through such flimsy concepts and arrived at an unquantifiable stage.
Meanwhile, Atlas watched the Baron happily shove down spoonfuls of hot gruel down his throat and thought to himself. 'Good. The food doesn't seem to be poisoned.'
Satisfied, he took his first bite.
'Still taste like sh*t though.'