Oliver was caught by suprise when the Queen requested to talk to him alone. He had only been in the castle walls for maybe a day, but he still wondered if he had already stepped put of line.
As much as he didn't want to, he needed to be careful with himself around the prince. If he made a wrong move, it could mean life spent in a deep, dark dungeon.
Queen Anise watched the prince leave the room, a small smile on her lips. She folded her hands in front of her body, then turned her gaze toward the bard.
"You and the prince have already met, correct?" the woman asked, once her son had left the room.
"Yes, we have," Oliver replied.
"Fennel has told me about you," the Queen smiled. "When he came home the night my husband passed, he rushed in with the news that he offered the position to you. I've never seen him so excited."
"I didn't think the prince would remember me," Oliver admitted. "He has a lot of obligations."
"Of course, he did," the Queen chuckled. "Fennel is usually very forgetful, but be made an effort to tell me every detail about you."
"I'm honored," Oliver smiled warmly. "I didn't think our brief meeting made such an impression."
"You're a special person, Oliver," the Queen began. "There are not many bards as talented as you."
"I'm glad you think so," Oliver smiled.
"You have a bright future," the Queen continued. "And I hope that you will continue to play for us."
"I would love to," Oliver replied."I will write a song in your honor, my Queen."
"Thank you," the Queen said, standing. "I look forward to hearing you play at the ball."
"It will be an honor," Oliver nodded.
"Please try to become friends with Fennel. Traditionally, the royal bard has kept a close friendship with the King. As he is inexperienced and young, he could use someone to offer their ear when things are rough. He doesn't have many people he could call friends."
"I will," Oliver promised.
"I know it may be hard to believe, but my husband selected the previous royal bard with more excitement than he did when he proposed to me."
"I doubt that, my lady," he smiled. "You're beauty is unrivaled. The king had to be captivated."
"Thank you, Oliver," the Queen said, holding out her hand.
"It is my pleasure," the bard replied, taking the Queen's hand and kissing the back of it.
"Until we meet again," Queen Anise said, turning and walking from the room.
"Yes," Oliver whispered.
Oliver watched the royal leave, then began to walk out if the throne room. When he approached the exit, he could overhear a conversation between two maids as they passed.
"What is going on with the Queen and the bard?" a girl with pink hair muttered, walking through the hall.
"Who knows?" another girl, one with brown hair, replied.
"I've never seen the Queen talk so much to a commoner," the pink-haired girl commented.
"Me neither," the brunette agreed.
"We will have to keep a close eye on this one," the pink-haired girl stated.
"Yes, we shall," the brunette nodded.
Oliver chuckled and rolled his eyes. He was harmless. He had no clue why those woman had made up a scenario about him in their heads. Perhaps they wished they could have a private conversation with a royal?
It was seen as an honor, afterall.
The thought made him blush.
Smiling, he wandered the halls for a time. He approached the various artwork to study the pieces, one at a time, trying to find inspiration for his music.
The castle was unlike any place he had ever traversed. Growing up, he had been poor, his father a beggar and his mother a brothel worker, so he wasn't use to seeing life at his current angle.
He wasn't sure he would ever get use to it.
Oliver had spent so much time looking at the paintings he completely missed the opportunity to eat his evening meal.
He could feel his stomach was empty, but missing one meal wouldn't endanger him. He would make up for it in the morning at breakfast.
The sun had set and the wide castle halls were lit by candlelight, illuminating from the scones lining the walls in measured-out intervals, which ensured evening lighting throughout the building.
Thinking he would be able to draw inspiration, he took a detour to the palace gardens the queen had taken him to earlier in the day.
When he stepped outside, his yellow eyes briefly closed shut, his head tilting back as he felt the gentle night breeze against his cheeks.
A floral scent permeated the air, a mix of the various flowers littering the perfectly manecured garden.
Opening his eyes, he began to step forward.
The garden was beautifully illuminated by the moon and stars. Somehow, the soft lighting mixed with the dark sky made the landscape look even more beautiful than it appeared under the sun.
Before reaching the fountain, Oliver paused. His ears perked up and he swished his tail when he saw a familiar figure seated on the stone bench facing it.
Copper ears could be seen slowly wiggling as the prince looked down at his lap. It looked as if he were jotting something down under the faint light.
Oliver took a deep breath before he began to approach. He was unsure if he had the right. Lady luck had already been on his side enough for one lifetime, so he shouldn't have felt the urge to risk it, but the flutter in his chest propelled him forward.
"My prince?" Oliver spoke softly as he approached the bench, his fingertips brushing against the back.
Fennel jumped. He had been startled by the sudden voice. When he had come to the garden, he hadn't expected to be approached by the familiar voice.
There wasn't any way he was ever going to forget the voice. It was soft, low, and angelic. There was not a soul in the world or the heavens who could possess a more perfect tone to his ears.
Fennel's head turned as he leaned back against the bench, his green eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. His heart beat rapidly. "Good evening, Oliver."
"Your highness," Oliver began. "May I have a seat?"
"Yes," Fennel whispered.
Oliver took a seat, leaning back against it as well. He placed his hands on his lap. His tail wagged behind him uncontrollably. He felt embaressed and hoped the young prince hadn't noticed his enthusiasm in the moment.
"Um, Oliver," Fennel began, a nervous edge in his voice. "When it's just us, you can just call me Fennel."
Oliver looked at the smaller man, a soft smile tugging on his lips. "Are you sure that's okay?"
"It is," the prince confirmed. "There is no need for formalities. Nobody is here but us."
Oliver's gaze fell onto a notebook resting in the red-headed royal's lap. It appeared the prince had been hard at work scribbling something down. Even from a distance, he noticed the handwriting on the sheet was immaculate.
"Are you studying?" Oliver asked curiously.
"No," Fennel shook his head. "I'm trying to write a speech for the funeral and the coronation."
"Two speeches?" Oliver asked.
"Yes," Fennel sighed, resting his quill in the binding of the notebook, then closing it.
"That sounds nerve-wracking," Oliver commented as he watched the prince set the notebook on the bench beside him.
"It is," Fennel agreed. "My father wrote down notes about his speeches, so I am doing the same."
"Do you feel comfortable writing them yourself?" Oliver asked.
"Honestly, I'm not," Fennel admitted. "I don't think I'm ready for any of these responsibilities."
"You have plenty of time to practice," Oliver reminded the prince. "Don't worry yourself."
"It's hard not to," Fennel muttered, running his fingers through his hair.
"Your father would be proud," Oliver added.
"Thanks," Fennel replied.
"I would love to hear one if you're willing to share," Oliver smiled.
"Really? You would want to listen to me ramble?" Fennel chuckled nervously.
"Yes," Oliver confirmed.
"I suppose if you're up for it, I could read the first part of my coronation speech," the prince suggested.
"That would be lovely," Oliver said.
Fennel opened the notebook and began to read, his eyes shifting over the written words.
"Hello and welcome. I appreciate you being here on this historic day. It is an event of significance that I take on the duties of your King and follow in the footsteps of my beloved father, the late King Felix. I've always aspired to follow in his footsteps and lead our kingdom to new heights. I shall do everything in my power to honorably serve my kingdom and make improvements to the lives of all people. I wish to unify the citizens and help us all become an incredible, thriving people. I will carry on my father's legacy and will not fail the people of the Kingdom."
"I will have to do a lot of rehearsing," the prince mumbled.
"You have plenty of time," Oliver reminded the prince.
"I don't," Fennel whispered, looking toward his feet. "The coronation is in two days."
"I can help you prepare," Oliver offered.
"You will?" Fennel gasped.
"I would be honored," Oliver smiled. "If you'd like, that is."
"Yes, please," Fennel begged, his eyes wide and his ears flopping to the side.
"We can start tomorrow," Oliver said, mesmerized by how adorable the prince looked in the moment.
"I would love that," the prince smiled.
Oliver stood as his legs were beginning to feel stiff. He lowered his tail and couldn't help but to let out a small yawn, covering his mouth.
"Are you tired?" the prince asked.
"Yes," Oliver sighed. "It's been a long day."
"Yes, it has been," Fennel nodded, picking up his notebook. "The coming days will be even longer. If you want, I will walk back with you."
"Thank you," Oliver said, suprised by the offer.
Oliver waited as the prince stood and walked toward him. Fennel's emerald gaze was locked on his own, a small, soft smile on his lips.
"Lead the way," Fennel said, waving his hand toward the exit.
"Right," Oliver mumbled, taking a few steps forward.
Fennel followed him out of the garden, many things on his mind as he walked with the other man down the long hall.
The walk was quiet aside from a faint rusting from Fennel's royal robes and clicking of their shoes against the floor.
When they arrived at Oliver's room, they paused. Neither of them had a clue as to what to say, and unknown to either of them, they both had racing hearts in the presence of each other.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Fennel said, looking at Oliver.
"Yes," Oliver whispered.
Fennel gave the bard a gentle smile. He took a deep breath, then began to walk away. As he walked off, he lowered his head, his cheeks covered in a subtle blush. He was happy to have been able to spend another moment with the bard and hoped for countless more.
Oliver opened the door and entered his room, the soft click echoing behind him.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging. The day had been tiring and he still hadn't fully recovered from the shock of the new life he had stumbled into.
When he had started the journey to the kingdom, he had expected many things, but none of them included what had happened since he arrived.
He wondered what his life in a royal residence was going to be like in the future. It was exciting, but he was nervous for what the future had in store.