Chapter Text
When he first meets the prince, Taranza's somewhere he really shouldn’t be.
He’s ten years old and sneaking through the royal courtyard. Quietly as he can, he creeps towards the castle's back entrance, eyes flitting about. He just about jumps at every sound, but feels a strange sense of exhilaration, too. He really didn’t think he’d get this far… but it’s looking like he actually might be able to make it inside. He might actually be able to get a look at how royalty lives.
He really, really wants to. He’s read all about it in books, but reading about things is different than actually seeing them, and he wants to get a glimpse of it for himself, the grand halls and extravagant decor. He’ll make his way inside, get a good look at it, then sneak right back out without getting caught.
He knows he can do it. He’s a smart kid, and he’s capable of way more than his family and his peers seem to think he is. He’s no know-it-all or wimp! He’s brave.
He puffs out his chest as he draws nearer, letting out a giddy laugh. Just as he’s begun to reach for the door, though, suddenly it flies open. Someone crashes right into him, knocking him to the ground.
He hears them let out a nervous squeak,, “A- ah! I’m sorry. I wasn’t doing anything. Please don’t tell mother and father about th-”
They stop, squinting as they get a better look at him. Frowning, they say, “Wait… who are you supposed to be? You’re not a member of the royal court.”
Taranza gulps, shying back as he forces himself to stand.
The other person regards him impatiently, two sets of hands on their hips and another hand pointing as they say, “Wait… were you trying to sneak in? You know people like you aren’t welcome, right?”
They can’t be much older than him— a boy of maybe twelve or eleven. He’s also an arachnid, albeit with a much more elegant set of horns. With short, striking silver hair and a lavish fashion sense, he’s clearly royalty.
Taranza swears he’s seen him somewhere before… but he just can’t place his finger on where. It’s not like he’s given much time to think about it with the way the stranger prods his chest.
“Hey!” he says. “I asked you a question!”
“O- oh,” Taranza says, reeling back a bit. “I’m— uh, sorry. I’m not supposed to be here?”
“Of course not! You’re a commoner! Look at you in your filthy rags! What is it you were trying to do?” Four pairs of eyes narrow. “...Were you attempting to sneak in?”
“N- no! Of course not!” Taranza sputters, waving his hands in front of his face. “I just… uh— wanted to get a look at the garden! That’s all.”
He forces a laugh and a smile, but the stranger clearly isn’t buying it.
“You came all this way to look at some flowers planted by a bunch of stuffy adults? No way! No-one is that boring. You were trying to get inside.” A huff. “And besides, even if you weren’t, this place is still off-limits to peasants. I should have you beheaded for your insolence!”
“W- what?” Taranza sputters. “You can’t do that! And I’m not a peasant!”
“Yes you are,” the stranger replies. “And yes I can! I’m the future king, you know. I can do anything I like.”
All at once, it dawns on Taranza where he’s seen this boy before. Standing off to the side during royal ceremonies… even appearing in some recently published books. This isn’t just anyone slinging accusations at him! He’s a prince!
He’s tempted to recoil and beg for forgiveness right then and there, but at the same time, he doesn’t like how this person is looking at him. He thinks he’s better than Taranza, doesn’t he? But he has no right to talk to him that way! And besides:
“You’re not the ‘future king,’” Taranza argues. “You’re just one option. There are four other candidates though, aren’t there? You don’t get to go around acting like you're a ruler already!”
The prince stops at that, grimacing with embarrassment. Still, he waves his hand, stubbornly insisting:
“Yes I do! Because I’m going to best all those nincompoops. I’m only eleven years old and I’m already the best sword fighter I know! I’ll defeat them when it comes time for sure.”
The insectoid monarchy doesn’t operate on a strict lineage system. Taranza knows all about it. He’s done his reading. The country was founded by five different species, and the descendants of each of those founders compete for the crown when they come of age. They duel each other in an all-out battle, and whoever wins gets to become king or queen, while the rest are relegated to less noteworthy roles.
With that in mind, the prince’s claim is a little bit ludicrous.
Does it really matter if he’s good with a blade? The other royal families are plenty powerful in their own right. In fact, with the grace of the Papillion, the strength of the Hercules, the beauty of the Sectra, and the wits of the Mantidae, he’d be the first to guess an Arachnid doesn’t stand a chance. There’s a reason one hasn’t been on the throne in over a hundred years. People don’t exactly respect them.
Still, he’s not going to say that. He has a feeling that really would get him beheaded. Instead, huffing, he replies, “Well, alright then. If you say so. But you still don’t have a right to boss me around! What are you doing out here, anyways? When you bumped into me, you sounded like you thought you’d be in trouble.”
“Because I did think I was going to be in trouble,” the prince replies, glaring. “The royal court never lets me do anything fun. Last time I tried to go explore I was grounded for a week.”
“‘Go explore…’” Taranza repeats. “And so you were trying to sneak out! What right do you have to criticize me for sneaking in, then!?”
“That’s different!” The prince insists. “I told you: kings can do what they like. And it was important I did this. The castle is so boring! How am I ever going to make a good ruler if I don’t even know what the outside world is like?”
He huffs. His tone is still bossy, but in a way, Taranza can’t help but feel a little bit bad for him. He never gets to leave?
“W- well. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have snuck outside,” he replies, frowning. “I’m just saying you don’t get to be rude to me if that’s the case. In… in fact, maybe it’s a good thing we encountered each other. If you want to learn about the world outside of the castle, then I’m your guy. I know all sorts of things!”
“What? No you don’t,” the prince responds, rolling his eyes.
“Yes I do!” Taranza says.
“Like what?”
“Well- uh,” Taranza sputters, feeling put on the spot. He’s got to say something interesting or this kid is going to ridicule him.
Come on, Taranza! Think!
“D- did you know that there’s an entire world below us? And I’m not talking about Endless Explosions. I’m talking abou-”
“The Lower World?” the prince interjects. “Of course I know about the Lower World. Do you think I’m stupid? Everyone can see it if they just look.”
“N- no! Of course I don’t think you’re stupid. You just didn’t let me finish! Y- you might know about the Lower World, but I bet you don’t know that it used to be connected to ours. Through a big tower!”
“What? No it didn’t.”
“Yes it did!”
“If it were true, I’d know about it.”
“Not necessarily! This was hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. Before the Floralia we know existed. Th- the tower was called Nutty Noon or something. You can still see it if you know the right place to look down from Fine Fields.”
The prince cocks his head, eyeing Taranza up suspiciously.
“Hmmm… well maybe that’s possible. I guess if we haven’t interacted with them in that long then it wouldn’t really matter enough to bring up. What else do you know?”
“Oh— uh! Lots of things,” Taranza responds. “Like… did you know that Birdons can fly backwards? Or that if you listen to how often a Cricket Insectoid chirps you can get a rough estimate of how warm or cold it is outside? I bet you haven’t even heard of the bug-eating plants of Wild World. They say they lurk deep in the jungle… and that they’re big enough to swallow you whole!”
Really, he’s just prattling off random facts. He knows they’re probably not anything special. Half the time when he shares these sorts of things he just gets glared at and called a know-it-all.
Yet, to his surprise, the prince isn’t glaring at him now. In fact, he actually looks pretty impressed.
“Where’d you learn all that?” he asks.
“W- well, just books,” Taranza responds.
“And so you don’t have any actual worldly experience.”
“I suppose not in that way.”
“But you’re smart,” the prince muses. “...And you’re a commoner. I suppose that means you have to know all about the way ordinary people live. Maybe I could make use of you.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’d word it that w-”
“It’s an agreement, then, peasant! I’ll take you up on your offer. Teach me everything you know. As a service to your future king.”
“H- hey!” Taranza retorts. “I didn’t say I’d do it for free. I want something from you, too.”
The prince gawks. Sounding incredulous, he repeats, “You want something from me?”
“Not anything big!” Taranza is quick to clarify. “I was just thinking… uh, maybe you could show me the castle sometime. I’ve always been interested in how you all live.”
A moment of silence. A lump in Taranza’s throat. He gulps nervously, hoping he hasn’t gone too far beyond his station.
“If— if you can’t,” he starts to backpedal. “That’s alright. I probably shouldn't have aske-”
“No,” the prince interjects. “It’s okay. I just don’t know if I can do that for you. It’s not like I’ve got a lot of power yet. My parents would probably be pretty upset if I brought a stinky nobody into the castle. You’d stick out like a sore thumb.”
“A- ah. I suppose so…”
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything for you,” The prince continues. “Yes, you owe me your knowledge just on principle of my status, but it’s still not a gentlemanly thing to do to demand. I’ll find a way to repay you, even if I can’t take you into the castle. Maybe I can bring an ornament or something out and let you get a look at it. We have some very fancy things.”
Taranza can’t help but admit he’s a little disappointed, but at the same time, he’s glad the prince hasn’t rebuked him entirely. It’s still something, isn’t it? He bets no-one else he knows has ever gotten to see something from inside of the castle!
“That would be nice,” he says softly. “I’d… I’d like that a lot, in fact.”
“Wonderful!” The prince says, clapping his hands. “It’s official, then. You’ll be my first-ever retainer. What’s your name again? I should probably try and memorize it, seeing as how you’ll be going down in history if you stick with me.”
Taranza’s face feels hot. Now he’s not sure that will be happening— it’s not like he’s anything special. He’d like to be, maybe, but he’s also got to be realistic. He’s just doing a favor for the prince so he can get something in return. And it's not like he really knows the prince, anyways. For all he knows, the royal might get bored of him in a week.
...All the same, though, he supposes he’s glad he’s so confident about this.
He sticks out a hand and responds, "I’m Taranza.”
The prince squints, almost as if he’s hesitant to take it. After a long moment, though, he finally relents, taking Taranza’s hand and giving it a shake.
“I’m ███████. Prince ███████. It’s good to meet you.”
‘Wow ,’ Taranza thinks. ‘I’m holding hands with a real, actual roya l.’ He can’t decide whether to feel nervous or giddy about how he’s going to get to brag about this later.
“It’s good to meet you, too,” he replies.
But just as soon as the prince has taken his hand, he lets go of it. He hurries past Taranza, waving a hand.
“Well, come on, then.”
“Come where?” Taranza asks.
“To show me things.”
“Right now!?”
“Why not. I want to see how all the poor people live!”
“I’m not—” Taranza sighs, deciding it’s probably not worth it to finish that sentence. He gets the impression that anything short of living… well, like a king, would seem like being poor to this person.
“A- alright then,” he says, following after. “I suppose I can show you around where I live. Is it really okay, though? I thought you just said you’d get in trouble if you were caught…”
“Yeah?” The prince says. “And what about it? I’m not going to get caught. I’m the sneakiest spider on the whole island… no! In all of Floralia.”
“...Well, if you say so,” Taranza replies. He figures that the prince probably knows what he’s talking about. He said he’s done this before, right?
But no sooner than the words are out of his mouth, suddenly, there’s a shout. An angry voice echoes across the garden.
“Prince ███████! What do you think it is you’re doing!?”
The prince’s whole body tenses. He lets out a terrified squeak.
“Nothing!” He says, hands flailing. “I’m not doing anything!”
“Who’s that peasant boy!?”
“N- no-one special,” the prince replies. “I just found him trying to… uh— sneak in! And so I went to scare him off, like a proper king should.”
“When something like that happens, you alert the guards. You do not take care of it yourself,” the fast-approaching stranger instructs. He appears to be a Mantidae, and he's very, very unhappy.
“Why is it always something with you!? You know when you Arachnids act out it doesn’t just reflect poorly on you. It reflects poorly on the whole—”
“The whole royal family. I know!” The prince groans. “It’s not like I haven’t heard it a hundred times before.”
“You’ve heard it, but have you listened? Clearly not. Come inside before you make more trouble for yourself.”
The Mantidae grabs at the prince’s wrist. He tries to pull away, but to no avail. He lets out a whine.
“But I wasn’t done talking to him yet!”
“The two of you shouldn’t have been ‘talking’ in the first place. Come on.”
A firm tug at the prince’s hand.
“And as for you,” he says, shooting a stern look at Taranza. “I don’t want to see you around here again. Is that understood?”
Taranza winces, shying back. He really wants to argue, but he just can’t find the words. This person is far too scary.
…There goes his new friend, he guesses.
“Y- yes sir,” he says, bowing his head. “I understand. I apologize for causing you trouble.”
The Mantidae doesn’t respond— merely lets out a huff and whirls around. He drags the prince back towards the door.
Taranza shoots him a sympathetic look, mouthing ‘sorry.’ He wishes there was more he could have done there. If it weren’t for him, the prince probably would have been out of the garden by this point… which is to say he wouldn’t have got caught.
The prince’s eyes widen a bit. He shakes his head and mouths something back.
It’s a little bit hard to make out, but it sort of looks like he’s saying, ‘You and me. Same time. Tomorrow.’
That… can’t be it, right? Or if it is, he can’t be serious! If he does that, he’s just going to get in trouble again!
But the prince doesn’t seem to care. He gives a wink before whirling around and following the Mantidae with a huff.
Taranza stares. He can hardly believe it. There’s no way he can actually listen to the prince, is there?
At the same time… he really does want to see some rich people stuff, and he can’t help but feel bad for the royal. Maybe it… couldn’t hurt to just try? He’s just got to be more careful. Even sneakier.
He knows it’s a bad idea— that he really shouldn’t do this. But it’s also the first time he’s ever heard something like ‘I want to see you again.’ If someone— and a prince, no less, actually wants to spend time with him, then isn’t that an opportunity he shouldn’t pass up?
He came here because he wanted to learn. He came here because he wanted to be brave and be liked. This is his opportunity to do both of those things.
Very well then! He’ll do it. Feeling nervous and exhilarated all at once, he makes his way out of the garden, eyes flicking up towards the sky.
“You and me. Same time. Tomorrow,” he agrees, even knowing the prince won’t hear. “I promise.”
Resolving to do something and actually doing something are two very different beasts.
Taranza is admittedly a little tempted to back out of their plan by the time the next day rolls around. He can’t stop shaking and pacing. He gently smacks his face, though in a meager attempt to calm himself down. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s worrying about this too much. It’ll be fine.
He’ll make the prince really, really upset if he doesn’t come. That’s something he doesn’t want to do, and not just to spare his feelings. Ultimately, he’s still a royal. That’s someone Taranza doesn’t want as an enemy. If he gives up now, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe the prince will go through with the guillotining threat and actually behead him.
…Doubtful, now that he actually thinks about it, but still! He made a commitment. He’s not going to run away.
And so he sneaks from his home yet again, making his way towards the castle. He’s pretty sure it’s about the same time of day as it was when they talked yesterday, although it’s a little hard to tell. Hopefully he isn’t running late.
He’s got himself bundled up in a cloak. It’s a cheap raggedy thing he got from the market with pocket change, but he figured it would be for the best to get something to hide his identity. That way, if he gets caught, no-one will know who he is. He won’t get in any trouble.
Even so, his eyes flit nervously towards each passerby. It feels like everyone on the street is staring at him. He wonders if he’s coming off as suspicious. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought the cloak.
…Ooooh, he hopes they don’t tell his parents.
He told them he’d be at the library! But instead he’s committing treason. He thinks?
Is this treason? Maybe it isn’t, since the prince told him to come. But do the prince’s words hold any actual power, or-?
No. He’s overthinking this. He’s just got to get there and see what happens. If he gets in trouble, he’ll get in trouble. But if he doesn’t, he might just make a powerful ally.
Deep breaths. He pulls the hood further down to try and shadow his face.
Just like yesterday, he manages to make it around to the back of the castle. It seems like not a lot of people come here. He doesn’t see a single person as he creeps towards the garden.
Is he early? Or did the prince decide to rescind his offer? Is it possible he got punished and wasn’t able to make it out of his room at all?
Taranza would feel even worse if that were the case.
Suddenly, though, he hears a sharp whisper. An excited voice calls out:
“You came! I was worrying you wouldn’t. You did, though! I have to admit I’m actually sort of impressed.”
The prince peeks his head out from behind a bush, hurrying Taranza’s way.
“Well… it’s not like I had much of a choice,” Taranza admits, scratching at the back of his neck. “You didn’t really give me a chance to decline. I- it’s okay, though! I made a commitment. I figured it’s probably best if I stick to it.”
“Glad to see you have some manners,” the prince responds. “I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from you.” A pause as he passes Taranza. “I made sure to keep my side of the bargain as well.”
“Oh!” Taranza says, perking up. “You mean you brought something from the castle?”
“Mmmhmm!” the prince says, sounding proud. “I’ll show you just as soon as we abscond.”
“Abscond?” Taranza asks.
“Did you think we were going to stay on the castle premises? I’d have to be a fool to risk getting caught like that a second time. Not to mention you were forbidden from ever showing your face here again. It’s best if we find somewhere else to chat. Do you have any ideas as to where we could go?”
“Oh,” Taranza says. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. As for where to go, though… I probably shouldn’t take you into town— that would draw all sorts of attention to us, but I can show you the area around it?”
The prince seems a little bit disappointed— perhaps he was hoping Taranza would take him to the jungle with the man-eating plants, but eventually he nods.
“Very well then,” he says. “Lead the way.”
Taranza does as instructed, heading back the same general way he came.
The prince, of course, follows after him, peering at him all the while.
Taranza can’t actually see him staring with the eyes on the back of his head covered by his hood, but he can feel his gaze on his neck. It's as if he's being studied... that, or treated like some sort of novelty.
“Oh, by the way,” the prince says, pulling ahead to catch up to him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s with the hideous outfit?”
Taranza just about does a double take, asking, “Pardon?”
“The outfit!” The prince repeats, clearly unfazed by his offense. “Last time you were also wearing rags, but at least they had a sort of modest charm to them. What’s this supposed to be? A potato sack?”
The worst part is that he doesn’t even seem to be making fun of Taranza. He’s just legitimately that callow. He’s got this curious, wide-eyed, if a little bit patronizing look on his face.
Taranza readjusts his hood, shaking his head.
“No, it’s not a potato sack,” he says. “It’s a cloak. For sneaking around. That way if we get caught, people might not know who I am.”
“I see,” the prince muses, stroking his chin with his hand. “I suppose that makes sense. Although if I were in your shoes, I still would have picked a more fashionable color. Don’t they sell those things in pink or red?”
“Uh… not that I know of,” Taranza responds. “But thanks for the wardrobe suggestions anyways.”
He tugs at the collar of his shirt, eager to change the topic.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “Enough about me, though. How are you? Did you get in trouble yesterday? That person seemed super mad.”
The prince sticks his tongue out, pouting and giving a huff.
“Sort of,” he says. “But that’s not anything new. It feels like I’m always in trouble. No-one gets me. That’s why I can’t wait to be king. Then I can do whatever I want! No-one, and I mean no-one, will be able to boss me around.”
He puffs out his chest, looking proud. He gives Taranza an eager grin.
Taranza cocks his head. He’s got to admit he’s impressed by the boy’s confidence, but at the same time…
“Don’t you think that might upset people?” He asks. “If you just do whatever you want?”
“Maybe,” the prince says, giving a shrug. “But who cares if they get upset? If they try to tell me what to do, I’ll guillotine ‘em!”
He makes a slashing motion with his hand, as if to emphasize his point. Taranza can’t help but shudder.
Still, he decides it’s probably for the best that he doesn't say anything. He’d prefer not to get ‘guillotined’ himself… and besides, he’s sure the prince will grow out of it. Plus, they’ve just about arrived at their destination anyways. No use in dwelling on it.
“We’re here,” he says, leading the prince up a slope. “No-one will catch us in a place like this, and we should be able to get a pretty good view of the village. What do you think?”
They’re at the summit of a large hill just a little bit away from town. It’s nothing astonishing, but there are trees to shelter them from the sun and plenty of space to look around.
“Hmmm,” the prince says, squinting as he observes the village below. “It’s alright, I suppose. Nothing too special, but I’ll admit I haven’t ever seen the town from this angle before.”
He looks back at Taranza, curious.
“Do you come here with your friends often?”
“Oh. Uh-” Taranza sputters, hesitant to admit that he hasn’t really got any of those. Frowning, he deflects, saying, “N… not really. I mean I come here sometimes to read, but that’s about it.”
The prince’s brow furrows as he looks on, mystified.
Taranza feels his heart drop to his stomach.
Oh… oh gosh. He’s really made himself out to be a big loser, hasn’t he? Who even says things like that?
Still, if the prince seriously seems to care, he doesn’t comment on it. Waving a hand he says, “Well, would you like to see the thing I brought?”
“From the castle?” Taranza asks. “Sure!”
He makes his way towards the prince, eager to see what he’s decided to show off. He wonders what it is he brought. Maybe a vase? Or an ornament?
The prince pulls back his cloak, revealing what seems to be a sheath of some kind. Carefully, he retrieves something from it, pulling it out with a sudden ‘shing!’
Then he holds up his prize, hand above his head so that he can see it clearly.
Taranza jumps back with a startled shout.
“You brought a sword!?” he asks.
He can hardly believe his eyes. This can’t be happening. But no matter which way he looks at it, there’s simply no other way to interpret this situation. Made of pristine steel and with a ruby handle, that’s a real, actual blade.
The prince hardly seems bothered by this situation, voice way too casual for a scenario like this as he replies, “Well, technically it’s a rapier. But close enough.”
He holds the sword out towards Taranza, asking “Want to hold it? Just make sure not to drop it or anything.”
Taranza does not take him up on that offer, though. Pulling back, he squeaks, “Will you stop wildly flailing that thing around!? If you aren’t careful, you’re going to stab me!”
“What?” The prince asks, sounding doubtful. “No I’m not. I already told you: I’m the best bug around when it comes to a sword. I wouldn’t be that reckless.” His eyes narrow. “Do you seriously think I’d be so stupid as to gore some peasant boy for no discernable reason? I’d never be able to become king if I did something like that.”
Taranza blinks. Sounding nervous, he admits, “Well… I suppose that’s true. It’s just… I’m sorry, I’ve never been around a weapon like that before! Can you at least put it down?”
The prince seems skeptical, but eventually relents. He crouches before placing the sword down on the grass.
“Very well then,” he says. “But don’t try to take it, okay? If you steal from me I’ll send the whole royal guard after you.”
Taranza wants nothing to do with the sword, frankly, but he reassures him anyways. Giving a stiff nod, he says, “D- duly noted.”
Then, cautiously, he re-approaches the prince. He crouches beside him, getting a better look at the sword.
Despite his initial shock, even he can’t help but admit it’s beautiful. It seems to be an exceptionally well-crafted weapon… and not only that, but with its sleek blade and gem-encrusted handle it practically oozes elegance.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” The prince asks, a shine in his eyes. “What do you think?”
“Me?” Taranza asks. “Oh- I don’t know. I’m not really an expert on this sort of thing. It’s certainly pretty, though.” A pause. “Although I have to wonder… why did you decide to bring something like this? I was expecting something a little more- uh, decorative.”
The prince shrugs.
“You said you wanted to see something impressive,” he replies. “And it’s the most impressive thing I own. I could have brought something prosaic like a piece of silverware or pottery, I suppose, but what would that tell you about the royal family? That we’re all a bunch of stuffy fuddy-duddies? I didn’t want to show you something like that.”
“Besides,” he continues. “This rapier? All mine. Almost everything in the castle belongs to someone else or the royal family as a whole, but this? No-one can take it from me. It’s special to me because of that.”
He runs a finger carefully along the side of the blade. There’s this sense of hunger, almost, in his eyes.
Taranza wonders if he should be bothered by it, but just can’t bring himself to be when the prince is being so earnest. If this is as important to him as he's saying it is, then he shouldn't judge him.
“You said I could touch it?” he asks.
“As long as you’re careful.”
Tentatively, he reaches out a hand. He feels the sword’s handle.
“...Wow,” he says. “It’s really nice.”
He thinks it might just be the most expensive thing he’s ever touched.
“I’m glad you think so,” the prince responds. “It’s my pride and joy. I’m supposed to be able to turn it into a scepter, too… but I’m still getting the hang of it.”
“Oh?” Taranza asks. “How are you supposed to do something like that? With magic?”
“Mmmm,” the prince replies. “The court magician taught me the spell, but I’m still not any good at it.”
“Oh,” Taranza says. “Maybe we can study together sometime. I’m not very good at it either, but there are a few things I can do.”
“Really?” The prince asks. “Well go on then, show me!”
“W- what?” Taranza asks. “Right here? Right now? I’m not very good under pressu-”
“Yes right here right now!” the prince interjects. “I want to see. I didn’t think someone like you would be able to do something like that.” A pause. He tilts his head. “...Unless you were lying to me?”
“No! I wasn’t lying!” Taranza says, sitting up. “H- here… let me just…-”
Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus.
It takes him a moment to find what he’s looking for… nervous as the prince scoots in closer to him and he feels for something in the air. Eventually, he’s able to detect it, though— a sort of invisible current that flows from the grass and the trees. He tries his best to channel it, before cupping his hands to the ground.
Well… here goes nothing.
A 'fwoosh!' as something springs up from the ground. Taranza uncups his hands.
And sure enough, there it is— a tiny flower he’d grown. It’s a crocus specifically, with a bright yellow center and long purple petals.
The prince blinks.
Leaning in closer, he asks, “You really made that? How?”
“Well… magic,” Taranza says blankly. “Flower magic specifically— although, uh. Don’t be fooled by the name. It’s the type of magic associated with almost all things in the same vein as this— so your grass, your fungi, your trees. Not the most impressive element, at least in comparison to magic like Sizzle or Quake, but it’s what I’ve found I work best with. Apparently, a lot of people have a predisposition towards certain types of magic? Or at least that’s what I’ve read.”
The prince nods along, but Taranza gets the sense he isn’t really listening. He reaches out for the flower, but stops just short of touching it, giving Taranza a quick glance.
What? Is he asking him for approval? That’s peculiar. He’s not really in the position to be ordering royals around.
Nevertheless, he nods, saying, “Go ahead. You can pick it if you’d like to get a better look.”
The prince does exactly that, separating the flower from the lower half of its stem. He holds it in his fingers, turning it slowly as if he wants to see it from every angle. Then, he reaches out to touch a petal with another hand.
“It’s… real. It’s not some sort of illusion,” he murmurs, sounding surprised.
“Of course it’s not... although I’m sure there’s magic that can do that sort of thing. If you know what you’re doing, then you can do just about anything with it.”
“Can you make some more?” the prince asks, maybe a little too eager. He’s practically bouncing as he sits there.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Taranza says. “Like I told you: I’m still learning, too. There’s only so much I can do before I get tired.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” the prince admits. “A shame, but oh well. I’ll accept your offer nevertheless.”
He pins the flower to his brooch, nestling it somewhere safe.
“Both the plant and the invitation to study,” he continues. “Seems you won’t just be teaching me about the lower class, peasant boy. You’re pretty talented.”
Taranza is about to interject yet again that he’s not a peasant, but he’s pretty sure the prince has already gotten the memo; he’s just choosing to ignore it. And besides… with the way he says that; a big impressed smile on his face, Taranza gets the sense he’s just teasing him. You know, like friends do.
...Are they friends? He’s never had a nickname before. Or at least not a well-intentioned one. Despite himself, he can’t help but feel a little bit warm and fuzzy inside.
“T- thank you,” he says, fiddling nervously with his hair. “That’s a very generous evaluation. I- I’ll be looking forward to it. I've never had someone to study with before."
The prince nods, seemingly giving his words some thought. He shifts a bit. Then, as if he’s read Taranza’s mind, he asks:
“...No-one likes you, do they?”
Taranza freezes up, visibly wincing.
That must not have been the response the prince was anticipating, because he freezes up, too.
Holding up a hand, he says, “Not that— not that I don’t like you, of course. That’s not what I meant. But it’s just… all this talk of not having company. Is there anyone you usually spend time with?”
Taranza frowns. As shame and embarrassment wash over him, he’s tempted to lie. But something tells him the prince wouldn’t believe him, and so pulling at his collar, he admits:
“N… no, not really. You’re- uh, kind of right that nobody likes me. I mean, I’ve got my mother and father, of course, and some of the other adults around town are nice, but the other kids…” he hesitates. “They think I’m a wimp. And a showoff. And a know-it-all. I… I correct people on things that I really don’t need to. I get overconfident and then it blows up in my face. I try so, so hard to be impressive, but it doesn’t really work. Like I said: I always manage to mess it up somehow. And then everyone laughs at me. So I guess you’re… uh, right in saying that I don’t have any friends.”
He averts his gaze, too ashamed to meet the prince’s eye. He swallows slowly and tries not to choke up.
But then a hand on the back of his. It squeezes it.
“Hey, that’s not true, is it?” the prince asks. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Or at least… we could be. I know I’m not the most altruistic guy, but I’d have to be pretty terrible to let one of my future subjects keep feeling like that, especially when he’s helping me out.”
Taranza looks over towards him, surprised. Voice uncertain, he says, “I… I know I’m teaching you and all, but don’t you have better people to be spending your time with? Aristocrats or whatever?”
“I mean yeah. I have all sorts of friends at the castle,” the prince responds quickly. “There’s no-one who doesn’t love me. But those… friends of mine, they’re…” he’s quiet for a moment, “Boring. They’re boring. And so I’m not really interested in spending time with them.”
Taranza has to wonder how true that is. The way the prince says it feels flimsy, and he’s already admitted he’s in trouble a lot at home.
He’s… probably not as popular as he’s saying he is, either. Especially not with the way that he talks to people.
After all, why else would he be out here? So desperate that he’s spending time with some nobody? Being honest, he probably has it even worse than Taranza. At least Taranza has parents who will actually let him leave the house. Taranza isn’t getting scrutinized all the time.
…It only makes sense for him to be lonely, too.
In a way, that makes him feel a little bit relieved? It’s… reassuring to know that big, important people like a prince can feel like outcasts sometimes, too. He thought he was uniquely spurned.
“Well, I’d like that then,” he replies. “...Being friends with you, that is. That sounds nice.”
The prince smiles at him.
“I think so too. Here’s to an unlikely, intriguing pair.”
He shakes Taranza’s hand, then lets go. But perhaps hesitant to stay on the topic too long, he shakes his head and asks, “Do you want to finally do what we came here to do? Would be about time.”
“What we came here to do?” Taranza asks. “Oh, uh-! Right. I was supposed to tell you about normal people things. I- I could tell you about the town, then, if you’d like. I know where everything is. Can point it all out from up here.”
“Go ahead, then,” the prince instructs, a lax look on his face. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Well,” Taranza says, peering out over the town. “If you look there towards the center just a little bit to the north, you can see the market. It’s the place with all of the colorful canopies. You can get just about anything you need there: food, clothing, gifts. It’s usually pretty crowded, though. Probably the most busy spot in town.”
“Left of the market is the library,” he continues. “One of my favorite places. I go there all the time to read. They have books on just about everything! Nature, magic- oh, and fictitious stories too, I suppose! I also like those.”
“Interesting,” the prince says. “The castle also has a library, but I don’t use it a lot. I mostly just visit if I need to research something like history or combat.”
‘Really?’ Taranza thinks, a tad surprised. If he were in the prince’s shoes— sheltered from the world, that is, he’d be spending all of his time reading. But then again… he supposes it’s not for everyone, and he gets the sense that the prince isn’t really the studious type.
“To the south of the library is the tailor’s. The building with the big green roof. Generally, you can get pretty much anything you need clothing-wise at the market, but if you need something custom made that’s where you’re going to want to go. It is more expensive, though.”
The prince rolls his eyes, saying, “As if that’s a concern for me. Need I remind you I’m—”
“Royalty,” Taranza interjects. “As if I could forget. Still, though, it’s good to know.”
Continuing on, he points to a building at the very southeast of town. “That’s the blacksmiths’. They make weapons and armor and such there. I haven’t shopped there myself, obviously, but I’ve heard that unlike the tailor’s you’re going to want to get everything from there if you need good quality. Most similar things sold in the market aren’t nearly as durable.”
“Above the blacksmith’s…” he says next. “Well, that’s actually my house. I don’t know if you’ll be able to tell it apart from the others, but it’s the one with the brown roof. Me, my mom and my dad live there.”
“No siblings?” The prince asks.
Taranza shakes his head.
The prince nods. “Me neither. I suppose I’m just asking because it’s… a tad larger than I expected.”
Is it? Taranza thinks his house is pretty modest in comparison to some of the other buildings in town. But then again…
“Did you think I lived in a hovel!?”
The prince gives a nonchalant shrug.
Nevertheless, Taranza goes on to tell him all about town. He describes the cobbler, the baker, and the sky-ferry. All the while, the prince looks on in fascination, murmuring things like “That isn’t how I thought it would be…” and “So that’s what the kingdom is like.”
A voracious look on his face. Just barely, his eyes sparkle.
By the time Taranza’s finished talking, it’s just about twilight. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon as warm colors paint the sky.
Slowly, the prince rises. With a shake of his head, he admits “I should go. It’ll seem strange if I’m not back soon.”
Taranza feels a pang of disappointment but stands nevertheless. Giving the prince a nod, he says, “Very well then. It was nice spending time with you today.”
“You too,” the prince says, reaching to readjust the flower on his lapel. “…Same time tomorrow, okay? We’ll meet here, you and me.”
The way he says it is just a little bit funny. It’s not a request— it’s an order. Nevertheless, though, Taranza replies, “I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you again soon.”
The prince returns his sword to its sheath before making his departure. He looks back at Taranza once, smiling, and then just as soon he’s gone.
Taranza watches him go, blinking slowly. He can’t believe how today went. Has he really become friends with a real, actual prince? Admittedly, he’s inclined to worry a little… wonder if perhaps the royal just regards him as some sort of circus animal, but at the same time, he’d been the one to suggest they be friends, and he’d sounded completely sincere. Not only that, but the prince seems to legitimately think Taranza is smart. Whereas everyone rolls their eyes at his rambling, the prince looks on in wonder, that curious, hungry look in his eyes.
‘I want to know it all. I want it all to be mine.’
He thinks… the prince might have a skewed idea of what friendship is, probably, but that’s okay. He’d wager he does too, all things considered.
He doesn’t need the prince to be perfect, anyways. He wouldn’t want him to be. He’s just glad he has someone to spend time with.
And to think that that someone is such a noteworthy person!
He wishes he could brag about it. It makes him feel confident and bold: thinking ‘a prince of all people has decided to be my friend!” But he knows he can’t. If he breathes a word of this, it risks getting out to the public, and if it gets out to the public, the prince will be in big trouble.
He can’t allow that. As such, this will stay between the two of them. The other kids… his mother and father, too, they don’t have to know. This is something for just him and the prince. Their little secret.
He’s very, very glad he came here today. He’d been worried he’d regret it, but now he has no doubts. For once in his life, Taranza has done something right.
…Butterflies in his stomach. An anxious sort of anticipation washing over him. A smile creeps up at the corner of his lips.
He can’t wait until tomorrow.