A wave of confusion had crashed through the kingdom, dragging feelings of annoyance and hurt with it, since the incident with Brendan and Violet. News spread quickly in a kingdom as small as theirs. Almost two days had passed and still the streets were alive with a constant humming of betrayal. So much faith had been put in the supposed goodness of the young prince since the submission of his father. Brendan had been a pillar who had held the weight of his caring facade for too long and had crumbled before the eyes of the entire kingdom.

      Walking down the streets he used to own, Brendan held himself tall against the rumours, despite all that had happened, and wore his most apologetic smile, sincere in nothing but its goal: make everyone love him again. "I'm sorry," he'd stop to say, "It's all a big misunderstanding." And to others he would explain, "She just heard me wrong, I would never lie." In the ears of some, he would whisper as he walked past, hiding his face, "It was her plan all along, to make Brendan look bad. She was bad news." If worst came to worst, they wouldn't believe him and their hateful words would brand him forever a fraud.

      Overall, it seemed to work. Clinging to most people of the small kingdom was a desperation to have someone to trust with their lives, a person to represent them for all to see. And fortunately for Brendan, his dad had long since passed on that one. 

      Walking through the various streets, he heard conversations that made him smile. "He's always been a good kid," an elderly woman by the name Mrs Gregory said, "I can't let myself believe these awful claims." In response, her best friend, Ms McCarthy, said, "Oh do stop making it plural, Bertha. The boy did one thing wrong. And who's to say he didn't have good reason?" Before he moved passed them, Brendan heard Bertha Gregory's reply, "You are most definitely right, Gladys. But are we even so sure she didn't just hear him wrong? I mishear you all the time!"

      Old Bertha Gregory's exclamation was far louder than she meant it to be for the same reason she often misheard dear Gladys McCarthy: She was half-deaf.

      Unfortunately for Brendan, there were still a few people who thought they had all they needed without a prince that 'clearly couldn't be trusted'. He'd win them over eventually, he decided, but until then, he'd focus on the less assured, those who were struggling to settle in this new reality. They, he thought, would be easy to revert to being his followers.

      Despite Brendan's being able to win back the majority of the people, his dad thought it was down to him to 'better' Brendan, and would follow him most places, giving him only a few hours each day to himself. Whatever his dad thought he was doing, Brendan was certain it wouldn't work. He loved his life, and that was something he didn't want to lose. Because, something that meant more to him than the free food from his father's funds, there was a constant shared smile whenever he was around. It gave him a feeling of contempt that nothing else did. 

      "Brendan! There you are, it's lunch time now, Son," Augustus smiled brightly and through his equal smile, Brendan tried to work out if his dad's smile was genuine or trying to read him. He guessed it was both but couldn't tell. "Cucumber sandwiches again or soup this time?" the king asked, stopping barely a metre from his son. 

      Brendan hated soup. Drinking one's lunch seemed an abnormality of the highest order, and he was sad to know so few people agreed with him on that fact these days. "Sandwiches, you're paying."

      "Pay for your own food!" Came a shout from a teenage boy in a passing crowd. 

      Putting on a big sheepish grin, he called back, "Of course I will! It was sarcasm, couldn't you tell?" Once they'd passed, he turned back to his dad who was smiling - presumably he thought Brendan had told that group the truth - and Brendan knew he had to pay now. A roll of his eyes later, they were on their way to one of the many sandwich cafés in the kingdom.

      After the food, they walked down to the farms to check on the farmers and to see how the money was helping.

      "Hello," boomed the king's voice as he arrived at the farms. The farmers, straw hats on their blonde heads, waved in return and the eldest came over while the rest continued to work in the fields. "How're you doing?"

      "Making a living worth making," the farmer admitted, "Thank you, Your Highness. Your money has gone a great way but we don't need as much as you give us. It is making some of us think of ourselves as more important than others. Young Charlie over there thinks he's top of the world 'cause of your speech. Once every six weeks will do us fine, King." He nodded once and welcomed both Augustus and Brendan into his small house. 

      "Okay, so I'll stop the weekly payments and make it once every six," Augustus agreed. "Good to hear you're doing well."

      "And word of your daughter, Sir?" The question took him by surprise but Brendan waved off the confusion, admitting he may have told everyone. 

      "No word yet, kind Sir," Augustus said, kindly excusing himself and removing his son from the farmhouse, not too lightly. Outside, he span his moaning son to face him, "How many people have you told? How dare you?" His voice had a level of anger that Brendan hadn't heard for a long time. The king had lost his voice, or at least all force from within it, the moment he was convinced to call off the search parties. "What gave you the right to share what I had secretly told to you?"

      "Dad, chill, it's not an issue. You told me because you were happy about it, because it's a good thing," Brendan explained, though his father was well aware of why he'd told him. "Why should we be the ones to stop everyone else from having that?"

      Had it been anyone else, Brendan's words would have worked wonders, immediately convincing them to spread the word like wildfire and fuel it with their breath. However, King Augustus could see straight through his son's charm and no length of time being cut off from the world would be long enough for him to forget how to do so. "Son, you can stop that right now. We have no word yet, hope only brings about more pain when it is diminished. Should we find her, then we spread word. Do you hear me?"

      "Yes," Brendan said, annoyed that his dad hadn't agreed with him. "So why did you tell me?"

      "You're her family, you deserve to know. And besides, I could use your help looking for her once Bruno comes back from the oracle."

      "It's been a while, hasn't it?" Brendan asked, an idea coming to him suddenly. "Has he sent word of his progress?" The king shook his head, and as he did so, a grey mist faded over them and Brendan knew he had his way in. "And he hasn't sent any report back at all? Surely there are plenty of birds in a forest so big, that he could spend a minute on a message." He watched the mighty king turn away in the fearful way only Brendan and Bruno knew, sinking into depths so recognisable to him that they tricked him into a false sense of security - he'd be safe, as long as he knew where he was, came whispers from the dark below him - and Brendan watched as his dad walked away. Slowly, and slower still, the king found his way to his home. And from the farmer's garden gate, the prince's wicked grin watched. 

✹✹✹

      Two young girls, both of age twenty four years, sat outside a small cafe, chatting quietly. The ginger girl pushed her side fringe out of her sparkling, forever-happy, green eyes, sipping a cup of tea grown by the farmers of the village. That's what they called where they lived: a village. The kingdom was much too small to hold much power to it's name, and their king seemed forever vacant and their prince, a hot-mess. "Lola, where are we meeting Violet again?"

      "Sophie!" The blue-eyed blonde whisper-shouted at her, "You can't say her name around here anymore. And at the edge of Lachinsinsi Forest, remember? The part near the pool." She finished her own drink, orange juice, and stood up, putting her sunglasses on. Grabbing two cookies, a cup of coffee and an ice cream, she urged Sophie to hurry up and come with her. "We should go now, and hope no one heard you mention her name."

      Unfortunately for them both, the young prince was stood not far away, listening in as he ordered a coffee himself. He was focusing so much on the girls' conversation that he tipped the waitress two pound and fifty pence, enough to buy his drink fifty times over. 

      "Come on now, Soph, let's go," Lola smiled as her friend finished her drink and put the mug down. She passed over one of the cookies and the coffee; the cookie for Sophie and the coffee to be saved for Violet. Lola did so knowing the coffee was safer in Sophie's hand, and Violet's cookie was much safer in hers. Eating her tub of vanilla ice cream - because they hadn't successfully made any other flavours - Lola walked side by side with one of her two best friends, unknowingly leading a party of three.

      At the edge of the forest, where the track met the trees, the girls looked around them to make sure no one was watching. Flicking her long blonde hair behind her, Lola carried her empty ice cream tub over to Brendan, who had failed to hide quick enough. "My prince," Lola started, a smile playing across her lips, "Would you please me so kind as to bin this for me? My friend and I would be ever so grateful." She flipped her hair again and ran her fingers through the ends of it, smiling and leaning slightly closer to the boy who was younger by two years. "Pretty please?"

      And as Lola had known it would, it worked, "Well, pretty you most certainly are," Brendan smiled as he took the tub from her hand. "And shall I expect to see you when I return?" 

      Doing her best not to throw up, she answered, "Of course." She turned away with another flick of her hair and walked over to Sophie who followed Brendan with her eyes to check he had really gone away. 

      "We've got ourselves about twenty minutes," Lola said quickly, her voice low, "Before he makes it back from the nearest bin. We'd better hurry so we're out again by the time he gets back, or before he gets back, because we don't want him seeing us exiting the forest, either, in case his stupid brain actually picks up on the fact that something's happening that doesn't involve him." But Lola was already moving them both through the forest to the pool of clear water at the side of Violet's house. 

      Crouching beside the pool, their dark-haired friend was busy feeding the fish with some sort of thin, flaky biscuit which she made herself. Looking upward at the sound of footsteps, she smiled at Sophie and Lola, "Hey, girls." 

      "Violet!" Sophie grinned happily, walking over with a hop in her step. "We don't have long, the prince will be back soon." Both Sophie and Lola explained their current situation as quickly as they could, all the while aware of the sullen expression that had come over Violet at the first mention of the prince.

      "Now," Lola demanded, "You tell us everything. Something's not right here - more than just him lying to you." She sat down on a tree stump a couple of paces from Violet, signifying that she wasn't moving until she got answers. 

      A nod and a tired, giving-up kind of wave of the hand later, and Violet was telling them everything she knew, which didn't appear to be much. "I thought I was different, but he's played around with plenty of girls and you two told me as much. I should have recognised that." Sighing, she stood up from her crouched position and sat on the stump next to Lola's, "I'm pregnant, okay? And a few weeks ago, I met Brendan and he was kind and everything and he said he'd help me out. So we started dating, we liked each other and I needed him." She jumped up, letting out an awful noise of frustration.

      "Oh, Vi, it'll be okay. You know we will help you," Sophie said softly, with calm and reassuring agreement from Lola. Then she spoke again, "You're pregnant?" Sophie asked, though she was quickly shut down by Lola, who understood they couldn't ask for all information immediately. They would have to let it go for a while, let it all come out in it's own time or with gentle persuasion. 

      "Thank you, Lola," Violet smiled, pacing back and forth very slowly. "I'll tell you sometime, I will. I promise." A nod to them both. "Now you'd better go, before you're caught leaving this place."

      A shared look of promise between all three of them, knowing they'd all see each other again soon and share every detail each one of them had to offer, the three girls parted ways. Violet walked back along the pebbled path to her cottage of wood in the trees while Lola and Sophie climbed out over the shrubbery and into their village again, keeping a watchful eye out for the prince. As it turned out, he'd gotten caught up with another girl on his way to the town's set of recycling bins in the Square. Though they'd never know that, of course. And so, Lola stood waiting for him and Sophie ran back to pass over the coffee and cookie they'd both managed to forget.

      By the time Brendan came back, both girls were sat down, playing tic tac toe with sticks, stones and flowers on the grass. "Hey, girls, sorry I'm late," Brendan grinned, walking over confidently. 

      "Cool, well, you've seen me now, so we're leaving," Lola said at once, smirking at the prince and taking the hand of Sophie, who was already standing to follow. They walked away, back to Lola's house which wasn't too far away. The average-height blonde and the shorter-than-average ginger walked hand in hand, simply because they were such close friends, though most who noticed had their suspicions. 

      Left stunned and confused, Brendan stormed over to their game on the floor and stamped on it, snapping the twigs, crushing the flowers, and hurting himself on the stones. Then something caught his eye in the forest, and it stared right back. Something in the sharpness of the blue eye told Brendan everything, explained everything in nothing more than a moment passed, though last time he'd seen that eye, it had been brown. He backed away quickly, knowing that what he'd seen had confirmed his belief - and his main goal. 

      He moved as quickly as he could to find his dad and earn the job he wanted so desperately. 

      He found his dad at their house, sat alone in the living room, talking to himself. "Oh, Son! You're back, that's great. I'm sorry I walked off on you earlier." His apology was genuine, unaware that the fault in fact fell on his son. "I thought about what you said." he started, and Brendan hid his hopefulness with a look of concern and understanding. "Bruno will come back, I'm sure of it," and Brendan's heart began to sink before his dad finished, "But it would be better to have more people searching. The more the better, just promise me you'll come back."

      "I promise." 

✹✹✹

      As Violet leaned on the counter in her home-made kitchen, a blue and pink woodpecker came in through the glassless window to land on her shoulder.