Chapter two.

Don't forget to check out light within after this,much appreciated. New story coming.

Prince Melus's POV.

Was it a dumb idea? I felt like it was, but I figured it wouldn't do any harm. I mean, he's so small and he's my servant, so he can't complain to my father, can he? I mean, there's no way he can, since he clearly likes me too, though I don't like him. Or am I being delusional? Can a man be in love with another? That seems pretty farfetched to me. I guess that would take away the joy of feeling high. Women are different. How could this possibly work anyway?

Would it be different if it were love between two men? Would it feel the same, or would it be a completely new experience? These questions swirled in my mind, and I couldn't seem to find any answers. It was frustrating and confusing, and I felt like I was going in circles. I sighed, trying to clear my head. But the thoughts wouldn't leave me alone. I was stuck in a rut, and I didn't know how to get out.

"How do they do it, even?" I thought to myself. "Why am I even thinking about this?" I couldn't stop thinking about the servant boy. His cute freckles, his soft hair, his innocent doe eyes. "This is so stupid," I thought to myself. "How can I even find another man attractive?" But deep down, I knew I was being dishonest with myself. The truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

As the time of my coming of age ceremony approached, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anxiety. I knew I was supposed to be more mature, but I couldn't seem to get my head on straight. I just wanted to enjoy my life, have some fun, and not worry about the responsibilities of the throne. I know it's every royal's dream to rule, but it wasn't mine. I could never be as responsible and mature as my little brother. He was so focused, so dedicated, and always listened to our father. I couldn't even decide on the simplest of things, like what to wear.

I relied on others for even the most basic of decisions. If it wasn't for that gorgeous servant boy, I don't know how I would even get through the day. Wait, why did I call him gorgeous? That's not right. I don't feel that way, I can't. No, it's not possible. I pushed the thought out of my head, but it kept coming back. I realized I was becoming more and more distracted by this boy. I kept replaying the moment he walked in on me naked in my head. He seemed so flustered, so embarrassed. It was kind of cute, but Why was I thinking this way? Why did I care so much about him? I knew it was wrong, and that the idea was stupid,But the more I tried to ignore it, the stronger the need to fulfil it became.

I walked through the palace's long corridors, searching for my father. He had told me the night before that we would be touring the village, as he wanted to show me which parts needed fixing and which needed new houses built for the commoners. I had reluctantly agreed, as I knew that he would only force me to do it the next day if I refused. My little brother had offered to go in my place, and I was grateful for his kindness. But my father was insistent that I go, despite the fact that he often put my brother down and made him feel inferior. Sometimes I wondered if he would turn my brother against me, and make him hate me for being the favored son.

I felt like a lost cause, and I wondered if my father would ever realize that I wasn't cut out for this life. I didn't want to be king, I didn't want to rule over others. But I knew that I couldn't escape my fate, as much as I wanted to. I was trapped, and I didn't know what to do. As I continued down the hallway, I realized that I was already late for the tour. I quickened my pace, hoping that I wouldn't miss it and have to face my father's wrath.

"Oh, thank goodness you didn't run off like last time," my father said in a low voice, as I approached him. I could sense the relief in his tone, as well as a hint of annoyance. "Let's go, the cars and escorts are waiting," he said, leading the way.

"Can't we just walk?" I asked my father, respectfully bowing. "I mean, don't you want your people to greet you and tell you about their worries? We have guards and escorts, so we'll be safe. I don't think we need to show off our wealth by driving around in big cars, when the commoners have so little."

My father paused for a moment, considering my words. "You make a good point, Melus," he said, surprising me. "We can walk through the village, and we'll keep the cars as a backup in case we're too tired to walk back."

As we made our way down the narrow dirt road, I noticed that the village wasn't quite as well-maintained as I had expected. The trail was uneven and dusty, with patches of grass and weeds growing through the cracks. Some of the houses looked rundown, and there were people living on the streets. Some looked like they hadn't eaten in days, and they were begging for scraps of food from passersby. It was clear that the villagers were struggling, and my heart went out to them. It seemed like there was so much that needed to be done, and I wasn't sure how my father could stand by and let this happen on his watch.

As we walked, some of the villagers recognized me as the prince, and they bowed respectfully. Others called out to me, asking permission to speak. A scribe walked alongside us, taking notes of the people's grievances. It was clear that the villagers had many needs, and I felt a responsibility to help them. But as the cars arrived to take us back to the palace, I knew that my time with them was coming to an end. As I watched the villagers fade into the distance, I felt a sense of sadness and frustration. I knew that I wanted to help them, but I wasn't sure how to do it.

As we pulled up to the palace gates, I felt torn between two worlds. The opulence and privilege of the palace seemed so far removed from the realities of the villagers, and I wasn't sure how to bridge the gap between them. I knew I had a lot to learn, and a lot of work to do. But I was determined to find a way to help the people who were suffering, even if it meant going against the status quo. I just hoped that my father would be willing to listen.

"So," my father began, his tone measured and thoughtful. "What did you take away from your time in the village?" I could tell that he was curious to hear my thoughts, and I knew that my answer would be important. But I didn't want to sugarcoat the truth, even if it might not be what he wanted to hear.

"Father, the villagers are struggling. I know that it's not my place to make demands, but I think there are things we could do to help them. I'm not interested in becoming king, but I want to find a way to make a difference. I know it won't be easy, but I think it's worth trying." I met my father's gaze, hoping that he would understand my sincerity.

"As you wish, my son," my father replied. "You may do as you please to help the villagers, within reason, of course." His tone was light and teasing, but I could tell that he was serious. I felt a rush of excitement, knowing that I had his support. I couldn't wait to get started.

As I collapsed on my bed, I realized just how exhausted I was. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was a hot bath and a good meal. But as I closed my eyes, I was struck by a sudden thought: had I gone weak? I couldn't help but wonder if my body had gotten used to being touched, to the physical intimacy that had become such a big part of my life. As I thought about it, I realized that it might be true. And as if to confirm my suspicions, my servant - the one with the shy eyes and delicate features - entered the room carrying a tray of food and a pitcher of water.

As he set the tray on the table, I couldn't help but notice how he refused to meet my eyes, as if he was still embarrassed by the events of the morning. And as he went to prepare the bathtub, I had to wonder if he was avoiding me out of shyness, or because he knew what I was thinking. Either way, I couldn't deny that my body craved physical intimacy, and the longer I went without it, the more I seemed to need it. It was a vicious cycle, one that I wasn't sure how to break.

"Come here." I demanded.

The servant froze in his tracks, as if my words had turned him to stone. And then, as if in slow motion, he turned to face me and began to walk in my direction, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. I watched him as he approached, his gait unsteady, his eyes fixed on the floor. And when he finally reached my side, he stood there, trembling slightly, waiting for my next command. I could feel the tension in the room, the air thick with anticipation. I took a deep breath.

"Look at me," I said, my voice low and steady. His gaze met mine, and I could see that he was afraid, his eyes wide and uncertain. His fidgeting only made him look more vulnerable, more endearing. I leaned back against the pillow, my head swimming with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

"Cat got your tongue?" I asked the servant, half-teasingly.

"N-no, my prince," he replied, his voice shaking slightly. "I only speak when spoken to, it's... it's what I've always done."

"Come here," I said, motioning for the servant to come closer. He complied, once he was in arms reached I pulled him by the hand,his small frame falling against mine.He was so small, his head barely reaching my shoulder, his curly hair tickling my face as he leaned in. His hands were shaking as he gripped my shoulders tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as if he were afraid to look at me. I placed my free hand on his narrow waist, taking care not to squeeze too tightly. He was so fragile, like a delicate little bird.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the servant opened his eyes, and I could see them fluttering as he fought to keep them open. His eyelashes were long and dark, framing his beautiful brown doe eyes. As he looked at me, he blushed again, a deep red spreading across his cheeks. I couldn't help but brush my hand against his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes again. It was as if he was afraid to look at me, afraid to meet my gaze.

"You're blushing again," I said, unable to help myself. I couldn't keep the surprise out of my voice, or the smile from my lips.

He leapt to his feet, as if I had startled him out of a trance. He took a few steps back, regaining his composure as best he could. His face was a deep red, his eyes wide and uncertain.

"If... uh... you don't have anything else to say, I would like to be excused, my prince," he said, bowing hastily. Leaving the room. Why was my body missing his touch already?

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