The following days were filled with clouds. From time to time, the sun would peek through, shining on skin with a soft tease of warmth before scurrying away like a game of hide and seek. Since the 'fallout' with the King, Ulfstead planned to sulk and give his father the cold shoulder.
In his past life, he had virtually no one who cared about him. Especially when he was on his own, returning to an empty house everyday felt like he was just a ghost traveling through the world.
His lovely Ringostar lessened this feeling of loneliness, but his lovely pet couldn't completely replace human contact all together.
And although he was fond of the abounding number of servants around him, Ulfstead knew that there weren't many people who truly placed him in their heart like his nanny.
So... he was angry and ignored the King, bringing about a cold war that he was inevitably going to lose - for Ulfstead was a Prince while his father was, well... a king.
~
Another tired yawn escaped his lips. The boys were in between classes and unlike before, there wasn't much time to dawdle. Ulfstead ached all over as they switched from philosophy with Master Velmer to history of Besirique with Master Omrik.
Typically, they would stay in one room throughout the course of the day with the teachers coming to them, but the official map of the Kingdom was not something that could be taken out so easily, so moving was necessary.
Ulfstead limped to his seat, his arms and legs were simultaneously like jello and heavy lead. With a few minutes to spare, his head hit the desk with a resounding thud.
The day after his nan left, Ulfstead woke up to find several classes added to his own schedule. Horseback-riding, archery, martial arts, and various other physically-strenuous courses.
In his past life, Ulfstead had a body of glass, so the exercise was not just foreign to this body, but to his mind as well.
The experience of having to squat for a full minute or repetitively punch the air was both novel and akin to torture. He always said that if he had the chance to run and jump, he would take it in a heartbeat. But after that first day, he was jealous of his cousin's wise decision to be a lazy pig.
How great would it be if he could do the same?
The second prince was still able to leave after the regular classes. The reasons being that there wasn't enough time for him to train since he had to return to the General's mansion before the palace gates closed at sundown. Furthermore, the four-year-old wasn't old enough yet. In Ulfstead's opinion, he wasn't either, but once again, no one asked him.
Yet, despite all this, Ulfstead mentally knew that these courses were necessary in this world. What should he do if he couldn't defend himself against assassins? Or if he was ever traveling through the countryside and was attacked by bandits? These skills were necessary in a world where the biggest fist ruled.
There were also the political reasons. His father used to tell him about the social blunders made by his various brothers while growing up. When another country's envoy would come with 'playful' challenges, it was the duty of royal children and aristocrats to retain the dignity of the kingdom.
Ulfstead didn't want to be like his late imperial uncle Sorsen who was challenged by an envoy and fell on his ass after mounting a horse. From that point on the late uncle Sorsen was then named Sorebuns.
And lastly... Ulfstead just really wanted big muscles.
Just like his guards, he wanted to be able to fight with swords and wield spears! What boy did not wish to have the body of a hero?
It's just...
It's really frustrating having to leave at dawn and return at dusk! He missed his bed. He missed the days of being able to have proper sleep! Take me back!
As for Lyfette, his round eyes nearly popped out of his head watching his older brother nearly crack his skull on the desk. Waving to his attendant to bring the small goose-feather pillow he usually uses to sleep in class, he lifted his brother's head and solemnly instructed, "Cousin, use this. I'll wake you when the teacher comes."
Ulfstead wished to cry, grateful for this conscientious 'son' for not only giving him pillows, but staying for as long as he could before curfew to accompany him to his 'extracurriculars' to cheer him on.
"It was a really good decision raising you," Ulfstead commented emotionally. If his arms weren't aching so much, he definitely would be hugging the baby to death.
Lyfette tilted his head in confusion. What was his cousin brother talking about?
~
At noon, the gloomy spring rain had brought about a confusing chill to the palace. It most definitely had nothing to do with the three royal family members who sat stiffly in silence. Or, more accurately, it was not due to the father whose gaze reservedly stuck on to his son and the son who dazedly toyed with the obsidian pendant on his lap.
The servants carefully set the table not wishing to draw any attention to themselves. Such a scene had been going on since the days leading up to the viscountess's departure. But today, maybe due to the clouds finally deciding to let go of their burdens, the atmosphere was charged, making their scalps and extremities tingle.
These days, Ulfstead had been taking a stance by using a tactic his younger brother perfected - shutting up and acting stupid. He truly believed the King was going overboard bytrying to distract him an overloaded schedule. Yet, his tactic was thoroughly ignored by the King who had no time to play trivial games with his son.
In fact, this behavior even further reinforced the decision to sack the nanny. He had never seen someone so attached to a servant like this boy before. The King thought back to his times as a child. Maybe at one point he did have a fondness for his own nanny, but he had later been distracted by other events of that time. Losing the woman shouldn't be as significant as the prince made it out to be.
'This child is too soft,' the King ridiculed.
The spread was laid, and the servants backed away. Picking up his fork, the King disregarded the etiquette of not speaking while eating and asked, "What have you learned in today's classes?"
Like yesterday, no answer was given. The King's patience was already wearing thin. Coldly, he thought, 'Was his prince trying to rebel against him?'
The good father was thinking to extremes again, but this time, Ulfstead simply didn't hear him. His brain had been muddled since this morning.
The aches of his body were supposedly normal. He just needed to push through and slowly get used to it. Unfortunately, the unstable weather came at a bad time, worsening his condition.
Why is it so hot?
Knowing this feeling all too well, Ulfstead cursed himself for transmigrating into another weak body. Didn't he just exercise and not sleep well? Normal people do this and only feel the aches. Why did he always get sick after he exercised?
It's as if God refused to make him into a macho man.
Finally having enough, the King slammed his fork onto the table. "This behavior of yours has gone on for too long." Azure eyes ablaze, the father wished to smack the child on the rear.
For a father of this day and age, it was true that the Prince's behavior was terrible. A father is the sky while the King was the heavens. To disobey and ignore him was something deserving of punishment. For the King of all people, a man known to corporally punish servants and ministers, to tolerate it for so long, it could truly be an act of mercy.
Seeing the child still tight lipped, the King was pushed to the edge. Outside the window, the gloomy rain began to pour, a sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. The King ordered for his golden cane. Finally, the servants reacted, leaving the scene. The Prince was going to be punished!
The cane was produced by the Chief Eunuch. The old man pitied the child, but it was only right for his majesty to do this. The viscountess may have been important to the prince, but what about His Majesty? Did the prince not place him in his heart?
Ulfstead felt his ears and head ringing. It was obvious that he had developed a fever. Possibly due to the weather, possibly due the stress and lack of sleep. It really didn't matter. He was just very sleepy.
The King took the cane and rounded the table. Today, he was going to discipline this naughty child. A pang of reluctance hit him. But seeing how the boy still refused to budge, his decision remained firm.
No. This child wishes to ride on my head.
Ulfstead knew his father was yelling at him, he could tell that much. But the drowsiness was too hard to fight. His lids were heavy and slowly falling shut.
The hands which held the obsidian pendent slackened letting go of the stone.
The golden cane raised.
The boy's head fell.
Thud.