"Well? Are you going to sit or not?" insisted Rito, his hands patting the back of the chair.

"I would rather stand, thank you," Rita responded, folding her hands against her lap. "If you would, please get on with it."

"Very well." His left eye twitched in annoyance as he cleared his throat. "King Tico acts all innocent and kind, but I knew him long before he became a king. Did you know, my dear Rita, that he hails from a long bloodline of pirates? Dirty, stinky, rotten pirates."

She did know that, but she wasn't about to confess that to him. It was actually how the two had originally met – she had been looking for a ship to take her across the sea to where her grandfather had fallen ill. If she were to take the proper channels by filling out the paperwork, it would be a month or so before her request got approved and she couldn't be sure her grandfather would last that long. 

She was left with no choice but to approach a band of pirates to take her across. The ship she chose for this task just so happened to be captained by Tico's father, Captain Firhand Brooks. Tico himself was also among the crew at the time and kept her company for most of the voyage. She even made such an impression upon them that they refused to take her coin for the trip.

"- that's what he said, can you believe that?" Rito's voice cut through her memory and she realized he had been talking for a while, none of which registered within her brain. "There's not a drop of royal blood within him. A pirate as a king, can you believe that? What absolute madness! If only his loyal subjects knew such a thing, they would not be so loyal, don't you agree?"

'You are not of royal blood, either. You come from a bloodline of coal miners,' she thought, choosing to keep that to herself lest she upset him once more.

"But that, poppet, is not even the worst of it," he told her conspiratorially, eyes growing wide as he leaned toward her. "When he was naught but a child, he took the life of the one he called a friend!"

Rita's lips pursed so tightly that they looked as if they had molded together, her shoulders tense. 'So, he does know of that incident. But how?' she worried. Given his attitude, she was sure that he did not know all of the details behind the story – if he did, he would know that such a tale would not ruin Tico's legacy. 

Despite this, if such a rumor circulated around without all of the facts present, it could very well cause a rift between the king and his people. "You really should not go about spreading misinformation and rumor – about your equal, no less. It could harm you as much as him."

Rito felt absolutely flabbergasted, but he wasn't sure what was putting him off more – the fact that she was neither surprised nor upset by this information, the fact that she did not believe him and called it misinformation, or the fact that she considered Tico, of all people, to be on equal standing to himself. For several moments, the male just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing not unlike a beached fish.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't amuse her seeing him left so speechless, but she didn't want to antagonize him further by laughing so she remained stoic, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

After several tense moments, he finally exclaimed, "You think he is my equal? That false king could never hold a candle to me!"

Her eyes narrowed at this and she clicked her tongue, arms folding over her chest. She knew she shouldn't speak up, but she simply could not hold her tongue. "If you ask me, then I must agree – you are not equals."

"You finally understand!" He grinned widely, his hands hovering over her cheeks yet not quite touching her skin. "You are finally seeing the truth and embracing it!"

She smiled at him, but it was full of mocking. "I understand fully. You, King Rito, will never reach his level even if you spent the rest of your life attempting to do so. You will spend your life chasing after him, trying to catch up to his greatness, and yet you will never even come close. Your efforts will be in vain. Of that, I can assure you."

"What did you just say to me?" he hissed angrily, grabbing so tightly at her forearms that she could not suppress her wince of pain. She tried to pull away but he tightened his grip further, his nails breaking through the skin.

"You are hurting me!" she cried, attempting to push him away but her strength was no match for his.

If he cared, he surely did not show it. "You have some nerve, coming into my kingdom and putting me down like this. I'll never reach his level, you say? I already have! Don't you see, poppet? I've already won."

Rita glared at him, no longer concealing her contempt. She did her best not to struggle for every time she did, his grip would further tighten. She questioned him through gritted teeth, "And just how do you figure that?"

Rito leaned closer, his foul breath fanning across her face. "I have the most important thing to your dear son – his beloved Ayla. You saw the way she drooled over my son. Taco does not stand a chance against my beautiful boy!"

Her eyes widened in shock at the declaration, fear filling her heart. This was his plan all along, she realized. He wanted to take Ayla from Taco, thus ruining the bond between the two kingdoms.

He wanted to start a war and, she feared, he was going to succeed.

━━━━━━༻*༺━━━━━━

 Taco stared down at the pages of the book upon his lap, re-reading the same paragraph for the fifteenth time. With a groan, he snapped it shut before placing it down on the table beside his chair and pulling himself to his feet. 

For a moment, he paced back and forth across the library only to groan again, falling back into the cushioned chair and staring at the rug beneath him. Just as he was releasing a third groan in as many minutes, a voice made him take pause.

"Sir," called Ciel, Taco's personal bodyguard and attendant. "May I ask what is ailing you?"

Always the polite prince, Taco offered the older male a kind smile, sitting up straighter. "Nothing at all. Why do you ask?"

Ciel finished placing the books upon the shelves before turning toward his master, hand on his hip and eyebrow cocked. "You mean to tell me that your mind is not the least bit pre-occupied?"

His lips parted to disagree but then he paused, frowned, and said, "You are right, as always, my friend. My mind is quite troubled this day and I do not know how to fix it."

With a gentle nod, Ciel settled down in the chair to the right of the prince, one leg crossed over the other and hands clasped together around his knee. "I'm here to listen, as always, sir."

Taco's nose scrunched up at the title. "I have told you not to refer to me as such, Ciel. We are friends, are we not?"

A warm smile came across his lips as he brushed away the navy blue from his eyes. "That we are, sir."

"You are older than me, as well. Does it not feel strange to you?"

"Only by two years and no, it does not. I have been instructed to refer to you as such since the day I began working for you. Habits are hard to break, you know, especially ones you've had since you were but a child."

"That is true," he murmured in thought, remembering the day the two of them had met as if it had happened only just the day before. 

━━━━━━༻12 Years Earlier༺━━━━━━

Five-year-old Taco held tightly to his mother's hand as they walked through the market district. On either side of the cobblestone road sat wooden stalls, packed so tightly together that he wondered if they were one giant stall instead of many smaller ones. 

Despite the sheer number of them, each one sold something different, some even carrying items from far-off lands that he could only remember seeing in one of his books.

The street was flooded with people, standing shoulder to shoulder as they marveled at the various items for sale. Even though the adults towered over him, Taco didn't feel afraid of being trampled. The adults were careful around him without even realizing that he was their prince. 

Though she wasn't trying to hide, Rita donned a large hat to help block against the mid-afternoon sun, its floppy rim obscuring most of her face. How could they possibly know that she was their queen when they could see only her lips and chin?

For an hour, Queen Rita and her son perused the stalls, buying whatever caught their fancy. Taco found several new books that he was excited to read, along with a couple of toys he thought were cute. Rita bought a new pan for their cook, apricot seeds for their gardener, a beautiful silken scarf for Taco's teacher, and a bulbous hat for her husband. For herself, she purchased naught but a water bottle and a small fountain pen to add to her collection.

Clouds had begun steadily rolling in from the south, darkening the sky and covering up the harsh rays of the sun. The air was turning damp, a sure sign that rain was quickly approaching. The citizens began to leave the market district at the first signs of rain, the once crowded street now only holding a handful of people who were determined to buy at least one more item before having to rush indoors. The stalls were closing, their owners quickly packing up their merchandise and shoving the items beneath the wooden tables to keep them dry.

"Come, my dear. Let us return home," Rita told her son softly, offering him a smile.

"Okay, mama," he replied with a bright smile, showing off his missing teeth.

"Miss!"

Rita paused, lifting her head toward an older man, slowly hobbling his way over to her from behind one of the stalls. In one hand was a thick leather sack, the other holding a cane that helped steady him as he walked.

"Yes? May I help you?" she questioned politely.

The old man tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace than anything. He thrust the bag at her, nodding toward the sky. "'Less you live close, you ain't gonna make it home before the rain hits. Put your items in here to help keep 'em dry."

"Thank you," she replied earnestly, kneeling down to set the armful of items onto the stone ground. Each item had been wrapped in thick brown paper secured with a thin string. "How much?"

He waved his hand at her, watching as she neatly stacked the items into the sack with the largest item, the pan, on the bottom for support. "Free," he told her.

"Are you sure? I don't mind paying."

He tried to smile again, but only one corner of his mouth lifted as if the other were held in place. "Figure I could use some good karma in life, aye?"

After placing all of the items inside and tying the string at the top, she stood up and lifted the sack over her shoulder. "I thank you for your kindness, sir. The universe will surely reward you."

He nodded before limping back to his stall.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the sky opening up as rain began to pour down to the earth. Taco squeaked in surprise as the cool drops landed on his skin, tightening his grip on his mother's pants. Rita removed the floppy hat from her head, setting it atop her son's. It was much larger on him and she couldn't hold back her giggle as it engulfed him.

Taco had to push the rim of the hat up so he could see, his cheeks puffed out and red with embarrassment. "Mama, you will get sick. You should keep it."

She hummed, taking his small hand in her own before starting down the path at a pace somewhere between a walk and a jog. "After so many years of drinking your grandmother's honey cider, sickness has learned to fear me for it cannot touch me."

He giggled at this, about to reply when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Curious, he paused. The alley was short, no more than a house's length long and it was open to the sky, rain forming puddles on the blackened stone. 

Sitting there in front of the alley was a young boy, not much older than himself, his back pressed against the brick building to the right as he tried to find some solace from the rain. His clothes were torn, dirty, and seemed a size too small for even his tiny frame which shivered as the rain pelted his body.

"Taco, what's the matter?" Rita inquired, following her son's gaze. Her heart seized upon seeing the state of this boy and she knew at once that he did not have a home to return to. Was he an orphan? A runaway, perhaps? She slid the sack down from her shoulder, tapping her son's arm. "Hold this for a moment, dear."

Taco did as she asked, his arms hugging the bottom of the sack to his chest. He watched her curiously as she untied the rope at the top, pulling out the silken scarf, wrapped neatly in the brown paper. "Mama? What do you plan to do?"

She smiled at him, ruffling his blonde hair. "Go stand as close to the building as you can manage, my dear. Try to avoid the rain to the best of your ability."

But Taco did not listen, following close behind his mother as she approached the boy to ensure that she remained safe, not that a young boy such as himself could be of much protection in the face of real danger, but it was charming nonetheless.

Rita knelt down in front of the boy, the water soaking through the cloth pants she wore as she held out the package to him. The paper was turning a shade darker as it soaked up the rain. The boy did not move from his spot, his navy eyes clouded with mistrust and a hatred for the world in general. He knew very well who this woman was, but what did that matter to him? 

Why should he respect someone he's never even met simply because she was lucky enough to be born into royalty? He did not care for such things, for he had learned a long time ago that nothing in life is freely given. Every item, every choice, has a price, a consequence that must be paid. He had long since vowed not to be as naïve and trusting as his mother had once been. 

No, he would trust no one but himself.

"It's a scarf," she told him, "Made of silk. Perhaps not the warmest of materials, but it should help keep you warm until the rain passes."

He scoffed, turning his head to the side. "I neither need nor want your pity, woman. Your charity is lost on me – I won't give you the satisfaction!"

Though her smile turned sad, she was neither offended nor hurt by his attitude. She had dealt with many orphaned children living on the streets in her thirty years of life so she understood how guarded and mistrusting they could be. And with good reason. For most of them, it was the only way they could survive.

"If you'd like, you can come with me. I can offer you shelter, warm food to fill your belly, and clean water to satiate your thirst."

He huffed in annoyance, sending her the harshest glare he could muster. "And be used so that the citizens can view you as a benevolent ruler that cares about us street rats? You may believe in your false charity, but I won't fall for it!"

Thunder roared loudly overhead followed quickly by a flash of lightning that split open the sky. Taco jumped in fright, holding the sack tighter to his chest as he took a step closer to his mother. "Mama," his voice trembled with fear.

While she didn't mind putting her own health at risk to try and help this boy, she simply could not bring herself to risk her son's health. She decided to set the package on the ground in front of him, offering him a gentle smile before standing up and taking the sack from her son.

"Queen Rita!" cried one of the royal servants as she rushed from the carriage down the street, one hand holding her bonnet in place and the other waving frantically through the air. "Queen Rita! Where in the world – oh, thank cheesus, there you are!"

"Maybelle, what are you doing here?" the queen questioned with a tilt of her head. "Today is your day off, is it not?"

"Supposed to be, yes ma'am," she huffed and puffed as she came to a stop in front of them, her chubby cheeks flushed. "But it started to pour and I knew you were out here. What a conscience I would have if I enjoyed my day off while you were out here in the rain! Oh, look at you, you're both soaked through to the bone. Come, come, to the carriage!" She fussed, leaning down so she could bring young Taco into her arms. "You poor dear, you're shivering!"

Rita chuckled as she followed after the older woman but she couldn't help pausing to look back at the boy. A frown came to her lips when she realized that he was gone, the package sitting there in the rain, untouched.