Six years passed, and Prince Phílos had grown into a young and curious little boy. His small figure was always running around the castle, his endless energy filling the halls with laughter. Phílos had inherited his father's wild spirit, always eager to explore and discover new things. He would often wander through the grand halls of the castle, followed by his ever-watchful nanny, who was constantly on the lookout for any mischief the young prince might get into.
The castle staff loved Phílos and would often indulge his playful nature, turning a blind eye to his minor misdeeds. They were all fond of the young prince, who had managed to capture the hearts of everyone in the castle with his infectious laughter and adorable smile.
Phílos, a bundle of energy, was running through the castle halls one afternoon, chasing after a bouncing ball. Caught up in his own world of playful exploration, he didn't pay attention to his surroundings.
As he dashed around a corner, Phílos crashed into something - or someone. The impact sent him tumbling to the ground with a thump. When he looked up, he realized that he had bumped into his aunt, Calliope.
Phílos looked up, rubbing his sore head with a pout on his face. "Watch where you're going, Aunt," he scolded, his voice filled with a mixture of confusion and indignation.
Princess Calliope, a grown woman now in her late twenties, looked down at her nephew with a playful smirk. Her dark hair was loosely tied up, and she kneeled down to his level.
Calliope, amused by his audacious scolding, couldn't help but jest. "Are you scolding me, you little naughty brat?" she teased, her voice laced with playful scolding. Phílos, ever the willful child, stood his ground. His tiny fists were clenched, and he looked up at his aunt with determination in his eyes.
Calliope chuckled, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Ah, that stubborn streak. I knew it would get to you like your father. You're just as stubborn as he is, aren't you?" Phílos pouted, his tiny brow furrowing in defiance. "I'm not stubborn!" he protested, his voice rising in volume.
Calliope chuckled, her amused gaze locked on her nephew's determined face. "Oh, really now?" she mused, her voice tinged with mockery. "Could have fooled me", with a playful smirk, she grabbed ahold of Phílos's little hands and ears. As she tugged gently, Phílos let out a yelp of pain. "Ouch!" he yelped, his voice laced with protest.
With a firm grip on Phílos, Calliope began to drag the struggling prince down the hall.
Phílos, protesting loudly as he was dragged along, was brought into the throne room where he found his father, Dante, sitting alone on the throne.
Upon seeing them, Dante looked up from his thoughtful gaze and raised an eyebrow at the sight of his sister tugging on his son's ear.
Phílos, still being dragged along by Calliope, looked up at his father with pained eyes. "Father!!" he wailed, his voice tinged with agony as he shouted. "Ouch, ouch, ouch!"
Dante, upon seeing his son's distress and his sister's firm grip, stood up from the throne, his expression hardening with concern and curiosity. finally breaking his silence, addressed his sister with a firm voice. "What's this, Calliope?" he inquired, his eyes narrowing as they fell upon the scene before him.
Calliope released her grip on Phílos's ear, her expression holding a hint of annoyance. "Well," she responded, her voice tinged with mock frustration, "I'm just teaching him some manners. He doesn't have any respect for his elders."
Phílos, now finally free, rubbed his sore ear and shot a glare at his aunt, mumbling under his breath. Phílos, freed from his aunt's grasp, darted towards his father. He wrapped his little arms around Dante's legs, his youthful face set in a childish pout. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Phílos proceeded to blow a series of loud and messy raspberries towards Calliope.
Calliope, before leaving the room, shot another glance at Phílos, her smirk tinged with an evil playful glint. She spoke her threat in a tone intended to scare the young prince. "You see that, brother? Teach your boy some manners or he'll get his ass whooped by me."
Phílos, who had been hiding behind his father's legs, peeked out with wide eyes. He knew that his aunt was known for her playful threats, but her words still managed to send a shiver down his spine.
Dante watched as his sister, Calliope, exited the room, her footsteps echoing off the stone floor. As she exited, his gaze shifted to Phílos, who was observing her departure with wide eyes, still hiding behind Dante's legs.Dante, leaning down to match his son's height, gently rubbed Phílos's head. He spoke softly, his voice carrying a warm, affectionate tone. "What have you been up to, little one?"
Phílos, his pout replaced by a mischievous smile, looked up at his father with innocent eyes. "Nothing, Father," he replied, trying to sound innocent. But the twinkle in his eyes gave away his playful nature.
Dante, with a playful smirk, poked Phílos's stomach multiple times. The young prince let out a giggle, his guard easing as he surrendered to his father's tickling.
"Doing mischief, huh?" Dante teased, his voice filled with affection. "Just like your old father, I see."
Phílos, amidst his giggling, managed to squeak out, "Stop, father! You're tickling me!"
Dante, enjoying the moment, continued to tickle his son's tiny stomach, a mischievous grin on his face. Cyrus, entering the throne room, couldn't help but comment on the scene unfolding before him. He took in the sight of Dante and Phílos, sharing a moment of playful giggles and tickles. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke. "Ah, a father and son moment indeed," Cyrus remarked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Dante looked up, ceasing his tickling as he turned to acknowledge Cyrus. Phílos, now free from the tickle attack, stood beside his father, catching his breath and beaming with happiness.
"Indeed," Dante agreed, a warm smile on his face as he regarded his chief aide. "Nothing quite like father-son moments to break the monotony of ruling."
Cyrus nodded, his gaze flickering between Dante and Phílos, his expression softening slightly. "It's important indeed," he said. "Though, I must admit, it's a small respite from ruling this country."
Dante chuckled, his tone taking on a hint of sarcasm. "Ah, yes, because ruling a kingdom is such a joyless task, isn't it?"
Cyrus smirked, playing along with the dry humor. "Oh, absolutely. Because who wouldn't want to deal with endless political intrigue, territorial disputes, and public unrest all day?"
Phílos, interrupting their banter, looked up at his father with hopeful eyes. "Father, could we take a walk at the market?" he asked, his small voice filled with excitement.
Dante glanced down at his son, his expression softening at the request. He stroked Phílos's head gently, considering his proposal.
"A walk at the market, hmm?" Dante mused, his gaze shifting between his son and Cyrus. "I suppose it wouldn't do us any harm to get some fresh air and explore the market. What do you think, Cyrus?"
Cyrus, always one for practicality, nodded in agreement. "It seems like a reasonable idea, My lord ," he replied. "A short respite from our duties. I'll ensure adequate security measures are in place to guarantee your safety."
"Very well then," Dante said, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Let's head to the market and stretch our legs a bit. You're welcome to join us, of course, Cyrus."
Emperor Dante, Prince Phílos, and Cyrus left the palace, passing through its grand halls and exiting into the open air. Their boots clicked against the cobblestones as they made their way through the town streets. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the bustling market
They continued their walk past stalls filled with vibrant goods, the marketplace bustling with activity. Stalls displayed colorful fabrics, fine leather goods, mouth-watering pastries, and fresh produce.
As they walked, the traders and townsfolk around them bowed with respect as the trio passed. They recognized the regal aura that surrounded them, acknowledging Dante's status as the ruler and Phílos as his heir.
Although it was customary, the gesture didn't go unnoticed by Phílos, who puffed out his chest a little, basking in the attention. He, however, remembered his father's words about being humble and tried to hide his prideful smile.
Dante, noticing his son's subtle bravado, chuckled silently to himself. He knew that Phílos was beginning to soak up his own importance, but didn't say anything, allowing him to relish in the attention.
Cyrus, walking slightly behind them, kept a watchful eye on the surroundings, ensuring the safety of his liege and the young prince.
They continued their stroll, passing by street musicians playing melodic tunes, and children chasing each other. Phílos' gazed at the children playing, One of the children, a girl about the same age as Phílos, was running towards some of her friends when she suddenly bumped into Dante. The collision caused the girl to stumble backward, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Oh, my apologies, Your Majesty!" she said, quickly straightening herself and offering a small bow. Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment. Dante chuckled gently, putting a hand on the girl's head reassuringly. "No need to apologize, child," he said kindly. "Accidents happen. Just be careful while running next time, alright?"
Phílos, still feeling a sense of playfulness, spoke up with a childlike innocence. "Yes, accidents happen. I bump into my aunt all the time, and she pulls my ear like this."
As he demonstrated, holding his hands up to mimic an ear-pulling motion, the girl's head remained slightly bowed before them. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, her reaction not visible to Phílos, who was focused on his own anecdote.
Dante and Cyrus, both witnessing Phílos' antics, couldn't help but laugh. Phílos' youthful spirit and tendency to share his thoughts without filter often got him into amusing situations.
"Ah," Dante said, a smile on his face, "only you, Phílos, can make pulling on ears sound like a fun activity."
Phílos, still exuberant, puffed out his chest slightly and declared, "I'm Prince Phílos, future ruler of Aresia."
He then extended his small hand with a friendly grin, offering her a handshake.
"And who are you?" he asked, his gaze meeting the girl's eyes, waiting for her introduction.
The girl, her eyes glimmering with curiosity, responded, "My name's River." Her voice was soft, yet there was a hint of playful warmth in her tone.
Phílos, intrigued by the name, tilted his head slightly. "River, huh?" he repeated, trying the name out on his tongue. "That's an interesting name. Is it because you love rivers, or something?"
Before River could respond to Phílos' question, she heard her mother calling her name from a distance. Startled, she bowed quickly.
"I have to go," she said in a hurry. "My mother's calling me." Without lingering long enough for a proper farewell, River dashed off toward the direction of her mother's voice, vanishing into the crowd.