"That stupid bastard, who does he think he is telling me what to do and not do?" Lucian lamented as he slammed the door behind Simon. Annoyed and even more frustrated, he returned to where he sat before Simon's interruption and pulled out the blade from where he had hidden it.
Taking in deep breaths, he steadied his breath as his fingers slowly wrapped about the tiny pocket knife. Raising it from the table, Lucian stared at the blade in his hand, the silver edge gleaming in the dim light of the room.
He thought being by himself would bring him some comfort, but all it did was make him more annoyed especially now that he couldn't stop hearing his squire's voice in his head. Simon's words had struck a nerve, and now, it was all he could think about. He hated feeling weak, hated that someone like Simon had seen him in such a vulnerable state.
He ran his thumb along the edge of the knife, feeling its sharpness over him thumb. He wondered what would happen if he just ended everything, wouldn't it be better than having to cut himself everyday?
He lowered the blade towards his wrist, and at the same time, Simon's words echoed loud in his ears.
"That bastard! Why can't they all just leave me alone?" Lucian cursed under his breath, his grip on the knife tightening. He knew he was being unreasonable, Simon had only been trying to help, but it didn't matter. The anger inside him demanded an outlet, and the knife had always been there, ready to provide one.
It didn't matter what that nobody said, the words of a common squire meant nothing to him. However, as he lowered the blade down to his flesh, he suddenly lost the strength to go any further. He couldn't cut himself, not with Simon's face constantly popping up in his mind.
Annoyed at himself and his squire, he launched the blade across the room, before flipping the table over in frustration. This was unlike him, even his father's words hadn't been able to stop him from this strange addiction. So why then did he care so much about what a common squire had said to him?
Lucian's breath hitched as he lifted the table back to it's original position. Letting his emotions get the better of him was not something he liked doing, yet Simon had pushed him to the edge without much words.
After arranging the table, he settled down his bad staring at his arm where the scars from previous cuts had already begun to fade. He had promised himself countless times that he would stop, that he would find another way to cope, but the pain always found its way back, demanding to be acknowledged. Perhaps he would not be this psychotic if he got the one thing he has been yearning for since birth—freedom.
He wanted to know what it felt like being free. Even if he can't experience it for himself, perhaps someone might be able to tell him how it felt. However, nobody inside these walls was free. They were all bound to their duties, wired to never disobey orders. A wrong step, and life might essentially be over for any of them.
The only person he could think of at the moment was Simon. Why was he so different? Why did it seem like his life was so much better when he was nothing more a street beggar a couple days ago. Lucian was curious, and his curiousity had driven him to his squire's quarters.
It wasn't unheard of, he had visited his former squires before, maybe once or twice, but it has never been for personal reasons like this one.
Lucian found himself standing outside Simon's quarters before he could even realize it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he couldn't quite place the feeling—it wasn't anger anymore, but something more unsettling, something that made his hands shake and his throat tighten. He shouldn't be so anxious about meeting a common man, he was the prince after all. It wasn't as though he was doing something out of the ordinary, he had merely come here for answers, for something to make sense of the turmoil that Simon had unknowingly stirred within him.
Without knocking or wasting another second, he pushed the door open, stepping inside before he could second-guess himself. Simon was seated at the corner of his small bed, his back to the door, seemingly lost in thought. He turned sharply at the sound of the door creaking open, shock and surprise evident in his eyes the moment they caught a glimpse of Lucian's figure.
"Your Highness?" Simon addressed before quickly standing up, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious concern. "Is everything alright?"
Lucian didn't answer immediately. His gaze swept over the simple room, and realized that this man barely had anything to call his own. He really didn't blame him, after all he never got the chance to go home and get his belongings. But even if he did, Lucian doubted it would make any changes.
Simon on the other hand did his best to keep his eyes on the prince's face, but his pupils kept darting back to his arms. Even though his arms were covered, Simon could tell that he hadn't cut himself. He wasn't bleeding, and there wasn't any hint of injury on him.
"Tell me about yourself, Simon. Tell me everything, I want to know everything about you." Lucian demanded as he walked straight to the visibly stunned squire. He settled on the bed, and with a simple gesture, forced Simon to sit beside him.
It wasn't what the squire had expected, but he couldn't exactly refuse. Why was Lucian suddenly so interested in him? Was it for formal purposes, or was there something else going on? It definitely wasn't for formal purposes, Simon was sure of that much. Lucian wouldn't pay him a personal visit for something that he could get anything and anywhere. Something was definitely going on with the prince, one that Simon couldn't comprehend.
He took a minute to gather his thoughts, unsure of where to start. He had a lot to say, and he wasn't sure if the prince had the leisure to sit through it all.
"Don't leave out a single thing!" Lucian said as though he had read Simon's mind. "Even the littlest details, just tell me everything."
"Okay then..." Simon replied nervously, now more confused than ever. However, he was able to convince himself that there wasn't anything wrong with what he was about to do. If the prince was ready to hear his life story, then he might as well tell him everything.