James had always prided himself on his ability to manage the unpredictable whims of the royal court. But nothing in his training had prepared him for the peculiarities of Prince Adrian Alistair Montclair. Today was a prime example.
As he entered Adrian's quarters with the usual array of refreshments, he was met with an unusual sight: the prince was sprawled on the sofa, his royal garb a crumpled heap around him.
"Your Highness, I brought the tea and some light refreshments," James announced, trying to keep his tone neutral.
Adrian barely moved, his voice muffled by the cushion. "James, you're a saint. I'm thinking of hiring you as my personal therapist."
James set the tray down with a bemused smile. "I'm flattered, but I suspect the position comes with more than just an ample supply of tea."
Adrian groaned. "I'm not sure even tea can fix this. I think I've managed to make 'prince' into a new form of medieval torture."
James raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be handling the royal duties well enough. What's troubling you today?"
Adrian rolled onto his back, looking up at James with a mix of frustration and resignation. "It's this whole prince business. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep up this facade? I've tripped over my own feet, embarrassed myself at every formal event, and I'm starting to think that the only thing I'm truly adept at is looking hopelessly out of place."
James tried to hide his amusement. "Your Highness, you've managed to perform your duties admirably. But it's understandable that you'd feel overwhelmed."
"Admirably?" Adrian repeated, giving a short laugh. "If by 'admirably' you mean 'like someone who's constantly one step away from a royal disaster,' then sure, I'll take it."
James decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. "You know, I've been considering how you've been adapting to the role. It's quite a contrast to the usual princely demeanor."
"Contrast? You mean I'm the royal equivalent of a bull in a china shop?" Adrian asked, raising an eyebrow.
James chuckled. "Not quite. It's more like a prince with an unusually high tolerance for making mistakes and finding humor in them."
Adrian sat up, his expression thoughtful. "Is it really that obvious?"
James nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You have a way of making the most of situations that most would find unbearable. Your approach to dealing with the more... tedious aspects of princely life is refreshingly unorthodox."
Adrian grinned. "Unorthodox is one way to put it. I've been thinking of running away to the countryside and starting a new life as a potato farmer."
James raised an eyebrow. "A potato farmer? Is that a new career aspiration or just a way to escape the royal grind?"
"Both, probably," Adrian admitted with a smirk. "But seriously, James, sometimes I wonder how you manage to keep a straight face through all my antics."
James's face softened. "It's not always easy, but it's clear that you're doing your best. And in your own way, you're proving that being a prince doesn't have to fit a single mold."
Adrian leaned back, a weary smile on his face. "Well, I appreciate your support. Even if it means enduring my endless grumbling about how hard it is to look dignified."
James bowed slightly. "It's my pleasure, Your Highness. If you need to vent, I'm here. And if you ever do decide to leave for the countryside, I'll make sure the kingdom is well-stocked with potatoes."
Adrian laughed, the sound genuine and relieving. "Thanks, James. I suppose every prince needs a good sense of humor to survive the royal grind."
James smiled warmly as he left the room. "Indeed, Your Highness. And every prince needs a loyal attendant to help them through it."
As Adrian settled into a more comfortable position, he reflected on James's words. Despite the constant challenges and the oddities of his role, he realized that the support he had from those around him made even the toughest days a little more bearable. And with that, he took a deep breath, ready to face whatever came next in his peculiar princely journey.