"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Azealia's voice trembled with concern as she looked into Eryx's eyes, her worry etched deeply on her face.
Eryx squeezed her hands, feeling a mixture of sadness and determination welling up inside him. "Yes, sister. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," he reassured her, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. He couldn't bear the thought of burdening her further with his own fears and uncertainties. Taking one last, lingering glance at the familiar walls of their childhood home, a pang of sadness shot through his chest, reminding him of everything he was leaving behind.
Reluctantly, Azealia released her grip, her hands lingering on his shoulders as if desperately clinging to the last remaining connection they had. "Promise me that you'll write to me every opportunity you get," she pleaded, her voice filled with a mix of hope and desperation.
Eryx met her gaze, his heart aching at the sight of her vulnerability. "I promise," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He wished he could promise her more, assure her that everything would be fine, but he couldn't make that guarantee. All he could offer was his unwavering love and the promise to stay connected through the written word.
With a heavy heart, he finally tore himself away from her, climbing inside the carriage that would take him away from everything he knew. As the wheels began to roll, Eryx couldn't help but question his own fate. He had once believed that being a slave to the royal family of Cascadia for eternity was the worst fate imaginable. But now, being shipped off to Alynthi, forced to offer goodwill and protection on behalf of Cascadia, seemed equally daunting.
The queen had summoned his family to court after the prince's disappearance and Neil's involvement had come to light. Eryx's family had become pawns in a dangerous game of power, held hostage by the queen as leverage against Neil. The neighboring kingdom had grown wary of the throne, their trust was shattered when their oldest son formed a friendship with Prince Dove. Cooperation had waned, and war loomed on the horizon. To prevent further bloodshed, Eryx had been chosen as a mere token of friendship, an ambassador tasked with mending the strained relations.
Though a sense of duty and responsibility fueled his actions, Eryx found solace in the fact that he had acted swiftly, sacrificing himself for the sake of his family's well-being. The thought of his father, with his worn wooden leg, returning to the military or his sister, vibrant and full of life, being reduced to the queen's personal slave in the prime of her youth, was unbearable. As he brushed away a tear that had escaped, he reminded himself that he had made a choice. He had signed the contract, binding himself to the kingdom's laws. He was now the property of the throne, a possession with limited agency to defy the rules imposed upon him.
Within an hour, the carriage arrived at the castle. A burly guard accompanied Eryx inside, leading him to the first floor. As they walked, Eryx's gaze fell upon a breathtaking garden visible from the window. It was clear that someone with a gifted touch had meticulously fostered an array of plants, nurturing them with immense care. Water gracefully cascaded from an artfully sculpted marble fountain situated in the center of the space, sparkling under the warm sunbeams. The gentle sound of its gurgling reached Eryx's ears, as if the fountain possessed an immortal spirit, singing a timeless melody, unaffected by the tumultuous events surrounding it.
Lost in the beauty of the garden, Eryx was abruptly brought back to reality when the guard standing beside him cleared his throat, breaking the enchantment of the moment. With a renewed sense of purpose, he followed the guard inside the "Laws and Interventions Office," ready to face the challenges that awaited him.
A beautiful receptionist asked Eryx to wait outside the corridor for a few minutes. As he waited, his gaze fell over a painting of the royal family of Alynthi.
The queen looked poised and had an aura of greatness around her. Three children were surrounding them. All of them had dark blonde hair except the girl who had long chestnut locks. She looked no older than thirteen and had a charm of innocence about her. Their eldest son also wore a small smile that showed off the perfectly formed dents on his cheeks. He wore his gelled hair slightly messy and carried a warmth in his crinkling eyes.
The one who bugged Eryx was the middle child. He focused on the prince's dead eyes, and all he could see was darkness. He sat beside his mother with a menacing expression on his face but with a posture of power and authority.
Although the prince was the most attractive of them all. His Achilles-gold hair was coiffed to perfection. His eyes had the same startling clarity as a mountain stream and the lineaments of his face were in perfect proportion to each other. The prince's crescent-of-moon eyebrows arched, thin and narrow. He carried an imperious nose well and his angular cheekbones carved down towards a flinty jaw.
His entrancing, blue eyes held such power, they could resemble two liquid-blue pools of flashing fire which made his sultry gaze all the more appealing.
His mariner-blue eyes had a gleam with delight and the vigor of youth. They were soft, Irish eyes and swam with joy. They shone brightly as two sapphires dipped in milky pools.
Eryx's gaze went down towards the golden nameplate below the painting: Prince Cassius Windsor III.
"Mr. Knight, please come inside."
Eryx stopped analyzing the painting and went inside the office with the guard. He halted in front of a middle-aged man sitting on a table writing on a papyrus scroll.
"You look young. How old are you?" The man asked.
"I'm sixteen," Eryx replied.
"Too young." The officer dismissed his possibility to join the army. "You can start kitchen duty from today. I'll hand over a letter to you, show it to the head Mister Hastings, and he'll give you a job." He lazily stamped the official seal of Alynthi onto the piece of paper and handed it to Eryx, who thanked him for his help and wandered into the hall without a clue of which way to turn.
He seemed to be walking endlessly down the corridors. He tried retracing his steps but he was stuck in an infinite maze. He sighed in frustration, but just as he was about to start walking again a man with military clothing entered from outside.
"Excuse me, Sir, could you please direct me to the kitchen?" The guard had his back facing toward Eryx. When the guard turned, Eryx realized that it was not a guard at all but the eldest prince from the portrait. Prince Cedric.
Eryx bowed deeply, "My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. I am new here, and I didn't realize who I was talking to."
"That's completely alright. I'll be glad to help you out." He smiled politely.
Eryx's heart throbbed within his chest. Other than the queen, this was the first time he was interacting with a royal.
"Ah no, I don't want to cause any more trouble to your majesty," he answered.
"Don't worry at all. Let me show you the way, it's easy to get lost in these corridors." He gestured with his arm in the direction so that Eryx could follow him.
As Eryx walked behind him, insecurity boiled within him. He was only wearing his ragged clothes. If looked upon from head to toe, anyone could point out that he hadn't dressed sharply and that he belonged to the lower descent.
Even in casual clothing, the prince's tall frame and lean body spoke of royal bearing.
After several twists and turns, Cedric stopped and gestured to a large, swinging door.
"Here we are. This is the kitchen." He stated.
"Thank you again, Your Highness." Eryx bowed. "I appreciate your help."
Cedric nodded and went back the way they'd come.
Eryx's gaze followed him until he was no longer in sight and then he opened the kitchen door.
Air, twenty degrees warmer than that in the hallway, wrapped around him as he stepped into the fragrant smoke from the boiling cauldrons, and a plethora of different spices' odors attacked his senses.
He coughed once and then saw the man barking orders to his fellow workers.
"Excuse me, are you Mister Hastings?" he asked.
"State your business," he said.
"I have this letter for you from the Laws and Interventions office. Kindly take it." Eryx held out the envelope he'd been given.
The man quickly tore open the envelope and read the contents inside the scroll. "Very well, start with picking up those sacks of potatoes and then peel them off for me."
Thirty minutes passed, and Eryx had barely managed to carry those sacks by himself. Once he slipped and two giant sacks fell on his back. That's when he thought he would die of asphyxiation because of the weight on his body.
But eventually, he managed to bring them in, cut the sacks open and wash all the potatoes. He had managed to peel off the skins of around six potatoes when he heard the condescending tone of Mister Hastings barking orders again. "I need all those potatoes in the next fifteen minutes. And how do you not perform the most basic task correctly? How are these potatoes peeled? You've wasted a lot of resources. You're unfit for this task, better go serve the prince his breakfast in his chambers."
The thought excited Eryx as he was going to see the prince again, "Prince Cedric right?" he asked to confirm once.
"No, Prince Cassius. Now hurry up, don't slack off."
Eryx bit back a curse and learned the exact route to be taken to reach the prince's chambers via the kitchen head's help. He reached the top floor. The guards waiting outside permitted him. He walked straight and took a left. He finally reached the prince's room. Then he knocked on the prince's door.
"Come in," a cool, authoritative voice answered.
The vast spaciousness of the room awed Eryx. Figures of gods and nature were painted across the ceiling. The chandeliers glimmered as the light glimmered off from the crystals. A smile slowly started forming on his face as he examined the room until his back bumped into something behind him. Startled, he spun around and lost his footing. The tray slipped over his hands. The contents were now lying on the regal attire of the fuming prince who glared at him with cold eyes.
"Two hours in the torture chamber," the prince yelled.
A/N
Hi thanks so much for the read! If you enjoyed please leave a vote or a comment that's the best way to support me! Thanks so much xx, Anne.