"You what?" Theodor's voice is barely audible.

King Louis touches the royal medallion resting on his chest, as if reminding himself that he is King and straightens himself. "You heard me, Theodor. I have signed a marriage treaty."

"And what do you expect me to do with that information?" His blue eyes stare deep into his father's grey ones. He seriously hope his father wouldn't say the very thing he thinks the treaty would mean.

"I expect you to marry Elena."

Silence.

"You expect me to marry Elena," Theodor repeats, his voice shaking with barely concealed anger, though his eyes are still on the chess board. "Who are you to expect me to marry someone I have never even met?" he roars, leaping to his feet so suddenly his armchair toppled backward.

"I am your father, but I am King above everything else!" his father shoots back, also leaping to his feet. "And it would do well for you to remember that!"

"You have never let me forgotten that, Papa dearest. You push it in my face every time you get the chance. At every decision you made for me!" Theodor shouts, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

His father growls angrily, sweeping the chess board, along with its pieces, off of the table. Both the queen and the princess flinched. "You will marry Elena and that is it or so help me, I will end you!"

The King kicks the armchair down and storms to the door, his ruby cloak billowing behind him. He stops at the door, turning his steel gaze on his son. "Mark my words, Theodor. I will do everything in my power to end you. Just like I did to Viktoria."

"Louis!" his wife gasps, horrified that he would he even dare to mention the name.

The king throws one last disgusted look at his son before leaving the study, slamming the door behind him.

The young prince breathes heavily, his chest rising up and down rapidly. His mother and sister didn't say anything, still too shocked at the exchange between father and son.

"How long have you known about this, Mama?" he asks the queen, his voice quivering.

"About a month now," the queen replies, her eyes, so much like her son, never leaving his face.

"Lou?" he asks his sister, his face now turning red.

The princess didn't dare have a staring contest with her brother, so she kept her eyes on her untouched scone.

"Louisa."

"The same as Mama," she replies quickly, noting the dangerous edge Theodor's voice took.

Silence. Long, pregnant silence.

"I am really disappointed in you," he says, before storming out of the study.

The ladies didn't budge an inch, the queen upset that a family tea time had turned into a disaster while the princess upset with her brother's word.

"We should have found another way to break the news to him," Louisa says, her heart heavy remembering the disappointed look on her brother's face. "It should have been you who told him. You know how he is with Papa."

The queen sighs. "Maybe you are right."

👑👑👑👑👑

When he left the study, the Hereditary Prince didn't know where to go. All he knew was that he needed to clear his head.

Without him realizing, he had reach the castle's entrance, the oak doors. The guards didn't pay any heed to him, already familiar with the prince's antics. Though they are alert to his movements.

Just last month he managed to pull an elaborate prank involving the royal guards, a dozen carton of rotten eggs, a string of sausages and a pack of dogs. Most still wear their torn boots, the King's order for new boots for them haven't arrive yet. Those who still have their boots intact walk around the castle with a trail of foul smell still following them around, despite their persistent cleaning.

Back to the prince.

He now has an idea what to do.

"James," he calls out to one of the guards, who quickly stands to attention in front of the prince.

"Your Royal Highness," James nods.

Theodor looks him up and down, sizing him. "I need your uniform."

"My uniform?" the redhead asks, confused. His fingers hover over his silver uniform jacket, his pride. He would never allow else to touch it, let alone wear it. But this is the Hereditary Prince.

"Yes, James. I need it," the prince taps his foot impatiently. "Hurry if you please."

"But, Sire, what do you need with it?" he asks, as he unbuttons the jacket half-heartedly. Not only his boots had been shredded by the dogs the prince released last month, he may get in trouble with the Captain of the Royal Guards if the prince got into some mischief with his jacket.

"None of your beeswax," Theodor snaps as he throws his royal blue jacket to the ground before donning on the guard's silver one. Thankfully he doesn't need to borrow James' pants, seeing as it is already identical to the latter's. "At ease, then," he says to James and the other guard, who immediately relaxes his stance.

"Sire," the other guard, Henry starts to say but Theodor cuts him.

"Not a word to my family, especially my father. Understood?" he hissed at both of the guards.

They nod silently and watches, helpless, as the prince pushes the oak doors, not even bothering to close them and slinks out into the bustling streets of the city.

The guards were silent for a moment as they watch their future king knick a cloak from a passing merchant with a cart laden with clothes.

"You know the King will have our heads if anything happens to him, right?" Henry asks his colleague, whose face is ashen-gray.

"The King will only chop your head off. The Captain will have mine mounted above his fireplace," James says darkly.