The gold Rose's in the grand garden had started to bloom once again. They covered one fourth of the garden's proximity, making it be known for that purpose alone. They were prominent. Perfect in every way.
Beautiful, perfect aroma, useful as a medicinal resource. Just perfect.
Vienne gazed over at the flowers, a shadow of wonder cast over his face as he walked around in the garden, clutching onto his book. He was lost in thought. Deep, deep in thought. With the idea of perfection, that is. He'd wondered countless times before, what is perfection?
Was it found in the grace of a lady's walk? Or the humming of a bird? Perhaps the greatness of the tides or the power of the mountains? Or was it something as simple as quiet obedience?
Too many options and yet not a single absolute answer. It frustrated him to no extent. After all, that was what his father asked off him. Perfection. To exhibit perfection and to be perfect.
As the crown prince of Lendorr, that was the duty bestowed upon him. He couldn't deny the fact that he didn't, indeed, wish to take over the throne after his father, like most civilians had begun to whisper about.
'The crown prince seems too docile for the role, won't you say..'
'He's not cut out to become a king is all. Kid's far too subservient for a crown prince..'
'Obedience doesn't align well in politics. He'll fall. Our nation will crumble..'
As he'd heard the folk talk about him countless times with such intents. For years Vienne had believed that obedience was a form of perfection. Though after hearing those... statements, from the common folks, he figured it to be entirely false.
He was angry at them, of course. After all what they thought of him wasn't a complete lie either. He was subservient. Though be it because he believed he would achieve perfection if he was obedient as his father wanted. He was subservient nonetheless.
Heaving a deep sigh, he looked up at the bright sky lit up by the scorching sun. It was exceptionally hot today. As he gazed up into the big blue canva with foggy white splashes, he begun to catch onto something. A murmur. A faint, distant voice saying something. He focused on it and as it grew clearer and clearer, he begun to make out the words. The word, to be precise.
It was his name. That voice was calling out his name. So he focused more intently now. He picked up the voice. It was familiar. Very familiar. Almost painfully so.
Vienne scrunched up his nose in annoyance as he groaned, trying to block out his voice.
If only his voice wasn't linked to his training sessions with him.
"Wake up you damn insolent brat! Good saints! Dreaming in the middle of your walk. What are you, a madman?!"
The voice spread across the garden, snapping Vienne out of his trance. He sighed, turning his head in the direction of the source.
He sighed again when he saw Novak's face as he walked up to Vienne.
This man really knew how to exhaust him.
"I'll remind your sweet ass, Novak. We're not in a training session right now. You be careful with your words or I'll make sure you remember who I am for the rest of your life"
"My apologies, your highness. I'm deeply apologetic for upsetting you in any way I did"
Novak said with a deep bow before pausing for second. A faint smile played on his lips as he straightened himself and looked at Vienne.
"I suppose that's what you wanted to hear from me, am I right? Your highness"
"I don't see any regrets in your eyes. Yes, that was indeed what I wanted to hear"
"May i ask why?"
"Why what?"
"Why have this sudden change in you? You've never been one to run your title in others' faces like this for as long as I can remember. So why now?"
At that, Vienne fell silent for a moment, wondering. Searching for an answer. It clicked in just in time.
"Perfection... I supposed obedience to be a form of perfection. It turned out to be anything but that. In the end, it was just another thing people fawn upon. So I've decided to change that about me. If obedience is something to be fawned over, then wouldn't rebellion automatically be something people admire? Holding your own against someone..it fits right into the picture, doesn't it? To think that one would keep on fighting no matter how strong their oppressors are, going into submission never crossing their minds. Isn't that just perfect?"
"Your highness...with all due respect,.. you sound crazy"
Novak said as he looked at Vienne worriedly, still not being able to understand his obsession with perfection. Something he believed had seized to exist in this planet. In his opinion, nothing was perfect. There wasn't a single thing in this world that he could think of that was perfect-...
Well one did cross his mind at that moment, making him crack a smile.
"Perfection you say. I'll tell you what I believe. It doesn't exist. End of topic for me. I honestly can't understand why you're even obsessed with something like that-"
"Because Lendorr deserves a perfect king. These civilians. They deserve a perfect nation, and a perfect king to rule and guide it to glory. I.. want to become perfect for them. Lendorr's reputation is far to precious in this world for an ignorant brat like me to waste away. I'll become perfect and hold up that reputation as the nation deserves."
Novak stilled at his words. He'd heard them many times before. Though something felt different, today.
Vienne felt different.
It was true though, what he said. Lendorr did hold a very fierce and uptight reputation in the eyes of the world. It was known, admired and feared for its strength. The nation of Lendorr was strong. Politically, geographically, in terms of manpower. Or artillery. Lendorr was powerful.
The strength piller of the world.