All movement, from the small servants who were clearing the table to the breathing of guards stationed near the door, ceased. Even the second Prince Lyfette practiced becoming one with his chair
Never in his life did the Prince dare to raise his voice to His Majesty. The Prince was always good in nature, rarely cried, or never threw a tantrum. The King really looked at his 'good' son for the first time in a while. The boy had grown. He wasn't yet the height of his waist, but the King remembered when he could hold him in the palms of his hands.
Ulfstead didn't know what his father was thinking. He was actually busy panicking in his heart. He had never talked back to his father like this. Suddenly, he wished he didn't bring up the topic. On the other hand, he didn't believe he was wrong. He just regretted that his words had given the King a reason to drive his nan away.
Two pairs of azure eyes stared at each other, stubbornness reflected in them both. The King looked away when the boy's eyes were starting to water. He could tell it wasn't even from his emotions. The boy just had watery eyes since he was young. Let him stare too long and golden beans would pour like rain.
"It's true that you are old enough. The nanny should go now that you are seriously studying. Did you not say that women can support themselves? It's best to let her go earlier lest you delay her career," His majesty scoffed.
Ulfstead knew this was his father's way of conceding. The matter was decided, but Ulfstead would not be punished for rejecting the King. For now, at least. Ulfstead blinked away his annoying tears; his eyes were too sensitive. Who would take him seriously in the future if he were to be known as the crybaby prince?
"Didn't Your Majesty say that you would be paying her handsomely? I didn't realize this meant she would still have to work." If he couldn't keep his nan, he might as well fight for some benefits for her.
His Majesty let out a laugh. The little thing thought that since he let him off easy the first time, that his wings were stiff enough. "Is that so.. Then this King hopes he doesn't disappoint his good Son. Be sure to tell her that her severance pay will be abundant." With this, the King strode out of the hall, leaving the frustrated first prince behind.
Well, shit.
~~~
Ulfstead went through the rest of the day in a daze. If he was again asked what he learned in his classes, he most certainly wouldn't have an answer.
What did he do?
The King was most definitely pissed. Lyfette scooted his small chair over to his cousin brother. Why was his brother so distracted again? The four-year-old hadn't forgotten the small event from lunch. But the intricacies of the conversation most definitely went over the child's head.
Tugging on the older boy's sleeve, Lyfette looked with watery eyes. "Can we go home now?"
Breaking away from his daze, Ulfstead looked to his little brother and nodded. The attendants packed the second prince's tiny book bag while Ulfstead cleared his desk himself. As a 'adult' he's long been independent and rarely relies on others despite their insistence.
When everything was done, the two boys returned to Ulfstead's palace.
~
The day had been tranquil with the sky a cloudless azure blue. Sitting in garden, knitting a small pair of socks for His Highness, the nanny had been awaiting the return of the two boys all day. The days have gotten longer, but time seemed to be going too fast.
When she heard the little patter of feet, the nanny put down her needles and looked toward the path from the house. The Prince returned.
Greeting the two princes with a obligatory bow, she smiled warmly and had the maids go and tell the kitchen to heat up the meals. "How was your day, Your Highnesses?
Ignoring the lady, Lyfette sat down on a stone chair and took out a little golden horse from his sleeves. The boy clomped the hooves on the stone table, galloping along the vast prairie land in his mind.
The nanny ignored the child's rudeness. This was just the way things were with the second prince - as stubborn as a horse and stingy with his words. Still, she looked at him fondly as he played with his toy before returning her attention to his highness.
Usually, the eldest prince would respond with an reassuring 'good' or 'great' before reiterating what he had learned in the day. The nanny believed it was because he knew she was sometimes lonely now that most of his day was spent in the palace.
But today, the little prince was somber and quiet. There was no youthful cheer on his face; this worried the woman greatly.
Ulfstead had been distracted all day thinking about what happened at lunch time. He knew that this was a done deal, but he hadn't wanted to admit it, let alone face it. His nanny's soft smile slowly fell the longer he didn't speak, but it felt like the words were stuck in his throat. The tension caused one tear to trickle.
The nanny reacted quickly, her motherly arms gathering the child into an embrace. She soothed him gently like she used to when he was still a babe. "Don't cry, my child... Tell me what is wrong," she shushed.
She had never birthed a child, but she was a mother nonetheless. She had cradled, bathed, fed, and changed him. She guarded, soothed, and loved him. The boy was special in her eyes and the lack of blood or a title could not change that. In her mind and heart, this was her own son.
These are not the thoughts or feelings that she should have, nor should he.
Ulfstead wished to cry, to wail, and to let out all his grievances, but he could not. He was not a child. This was bound to happen, according to this world's standards. It was the norm and in the future, more and more things like this will happen - for as long as he is the prince, as long as he is the Son of the King.
Small arms wrapped him from behind and Ulfstead could feel how his emotions had made the other boy distraught.
Clearing his throat, Ulfstead removed himself from his nanny's embrace and patted his cousin on the head. "I'm okay... I just have some... upsetting news..."
~
That night, little Lyfette was sent back to his mansion and the nanny stayed by the prince's bed until he fell asleep. It would be not much longer until she was released from her position. She knew that the day would come soon and she believed that she prepared her heart, but looking at the sleeping child made her heart clench.
She needn't only think of his future but hers as well.
Outside, the night had fallen, stars twinkling upon the world with a promise of peace. The nanny stood up from her seat. Looking to the solitary guard in the corner, nodded and blew out the candle
The nanny left the Imperial Palace a week later. The King kept his words about paying the woman handsomely. With this, the Viscountess would surely be able to support herself for the rest of her life. To the King's surprise, the woman said that she would no longer be a nanny but start a business instead.
"The first prince will be the last child I personally take care of. He was too special and no one could replace him in my heart. I will begin a small workshop to help spread proper knowledge of child rearing. Many people misunderstand the needs and cleverness of children. I hope that the things I've learned in the Palace will benefit the people in the future."
The King suddenly recalled his son's words at lunch that day. "If a woman has the ability to support herself, why must she rely on others?"
Ulfstead promised he wouldn't cry when he saw his nanny off. The woman was like a mother to him, the kindest, most gentle mother that he ever had in two life times. He promised to send her off with a smile. Yet, when the time came, the Prince's cheeks were blotched with pink and his eyes were like a dam about to overflow.
He swore that it was all due to allergies and that no one should be concerned. Unfortunately, these ancient people didn't understand the concept of allergies. The servants merely nodded and promised they saw nothing.
The night before, Ulfstead helped his nanny count the pieces of gold his father rewarded and told her to hide it carefully. All the while, he secretly stuffed several hundred more of his own private money while she wasn't looking. The nanny pretended not to see in order to give her prince a piece of mind. Later, she will do good deeds with it in the name of the First Prince.
Earnestly, the Young Prince reminded his nanny of the dangers of the outside. It might have been a while, but the bedtime stories his father used to tell him were never forgotten.
"Don't forget to write often. Don't travel alone. Remember to always lock your doors at night. Also, the first thing you should do when you return is to repair the house. Don't be stingy! Be sure to use the toughest materials. Don't let others bully you. If someone was ever to bully you, tell him my name and then tell them who my father is. If someone still wishes to bully you, kick them in the crown jewels if they are a man. If they are a woman, just pull their hair and drag her. Be ruthless! As long as you win, nothing matters!"
The nanny listened patiently. She knew how compassionate His Highness was. The boy treated his sisters gently, the palace servants kindly, and her the best. The nanny didn't want to leave him, but she knew it must be done. The prince no longer needed her by his side.
It was time for him to grow without her. The Prince had always been curious. Her presence was only a hindrance, always worrying for his safety when he was known to be careful. She, too, was on the verge of tears when the prince's nagging suddenly turned in a weird direction.
'Crown Jewels?' Did His Highness not know most people will not see, let alone own, jewels in their lifetime? 'Such a silly boy.'
After five years, Viscountess Antonia Bellinichi left the Imperial Palace and returned to the countryside.