wOah. waaddUpP. Thanks for 7K on this book o' trash. Like seriously. waatt. I don't even have 7 friends!!! lIke wOah.

Anywaysss, there will be a part 2 to this chapter cause I didn't wanna make it too long cause this is already long as it is.
ᕙ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ ayyee. My mind.

Alsooo thank you so much to PhanIsMyMuse a bunchhh of amazing ideas- one of which is this one- and inspiring wordsss. (*'╰╯'๓)♬ hehe.

Okay, le go.

----

Smartly dressed servants with bowed heads and serious expressions on their faces lined the hallways of the castle. There they awaited the presence of their King and Queen.

From afar, the palace gates were opening as a horse and carriage carrying the royals approached.

In the castle, a Prince awaited his parents arrival. Those servants fussed over him, making sure his appearance was absolutely perfect- just as he was supposed to be. Just as he was born to be.

Head held high, the Prince calmly walked down a marble staircase. Taking one step at a time. A compelled aura about him.

The echoing of hoofs trotting on a gravel entrance finally ceased and a large parade of people entered through some heavy mahogany doors.

They stepped aside simultaneous to some trumpets playing a tune to reveal the much anticipated King and Queen. They looked on a whole other level to everyone else in the room at that moment. The great sense of authority and power was immense.

"King and Queen Nikiforov." Somebody from somewhere announced.

The Prince, now at the foot of the stairs, gave them a soft smile as he walked up to them nodding to his father then taking his mothers hand and lightly planting a kiss there.

"Welcome home, mother. Father."  He gave them a warm smile.

"Victor. My son. We need to speak."

--

Around a large table sat Victor with his fathers intimidating gaze upon him and his mothers loving smile staring into his eyes.

They were in the midst of a large discussion which unfortunately for Victor, wasn't going in his favour.

"Will it be my decision?"  Clearly stressed, Victor raised his eyebrow in curiosity. He wanted to at least know his options.

Before anyone could say anything else, Victor's mom, the Queen, stepped in. 

"Uh- of course within reason." She pressed her hands together, trying to make her son understand.

There was a moment of absolute silence in which Victor quickly rethought what he was about to say. He wanted to be extremely blunt. Just get it over with, but looking at the situation. That didn't really seem like the best thing to do.

"Look. Mother, Father."

Pausing for only a second, Victor shifted uncomfortably in his seat then continued deciding to just break it to them.

"If its going to be an arranged marriage - then I want no part of it."

Thinking carefully, Victor carried straight on. Not wanting to listen to their immediate reactions.

"Surely I should make my own choices. I would prefer to spend the rest of my life with someone I truly loved rather then some woman handpicked like fruit from a rotting tree who is only in it for the title of queen."

Without even having to look at his mother, Victor knew she was on the brink of exploding- despite usually being a calm woman. Regardless, Victor carried on.

"Knowing you, you've chosen a self centred woman who, yes, will probably be beautiful- but will also be a vain, corrupt and a complete mercenary- exactly the same as every other woman who you've introduced to me!"

Victor was on a rampage. Despite not being planned out, the boy blurted out angry, opinionated arguments as if it were written out in front of him on a piece of paper. Mainly targeting all the woman who had he had been advised to marry in the past- yet declined.
Yes, he was on a rampage. That was until his mother shut him down.

"I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS-- VERBAL CARNAGE IN MY HOME." Emphasis on the 'not' she almost sounded as if she was about to cry. "The woman your father and I have suggested to you is not like the others. All the others were Ladies, Duchesses and Viscountesses. Never has a princess come along who is the same age as you. Think about it Victor! She can give you everything you've ever wanted!" She cried out desperately. Meanwhile the King sat there, his lips pursed tightly together and his eyes squinting slightly, as if he were deep in thought.

Victor simply shook his head. A grave expression on his face.
"I'm afraid that's not possible."  He exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, then ran his hands though his silky grey hair. Without even having to make eye contact with his parents, he could tell they were impatiently waiting for him to elaborate. "It's not possible be-because-I..."
Now both of Victor's parents were staring at his stuttering form.
How could he explain this?
"Its- err- I'm not...'into' fem-"
Like a boulder being dropped into a well, Victor's stomach dropped. "..." He was unable to form words as he failed to give his parents the reason why he was so against getting married. And an arranged one no less.

"Excuse me for a moment."
Panic and uncertainty consumed the 19 year old and in the end it just became all too much.

Staying calm, Victor stood up and left the room.

"Bring me my horse!"
Were the final words spoken before Victor left the palace.

-------

He ran, bruised feet firmly planting into the dirt ground. The thought of running barefoot on such a rough, dangerous surface would have sent a chill down his spine only minutes earlier- yet now he didn't even have to think twice about doing it.

"Hey! Get back here!! THEIF HE STOLE BREAD. SOMEONE STOP HIM."

An angry merchant waved his fists in the air as some of his nearby friends bolted after the 'theif'.

In the boys mind, he thought as he ran,
'I won't be able to keep running for much longer. My stamina and energy aren't that high since food had been so scarce lately. The only option is to take.'

A boy, no older then 18, ran with the half loaf of bread tightly clutched in his right hand. His jet black hair moved across his grubby face in the wind and his worn, oversized clothes -if you could even call them that- clung to his sweaty skin. That sweat rolled down his skin in thick beads.
The boy could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel his skin roasting in the summer heat, and taste the dryness in his parched throat.

His running pace dramatically slowed as he turned a corner, nearing further and further away from the village. The people chasing him had long gone, yet the boy carried on running.
His head swayed loosely from side to side with each quick step he took and his dark eyes suddenly felt heavy.

His running form suddenly jolted forward, having come across an obstacle in the middle of the dirt track.
Too exhausted to stop himself, the boys foot slammed into a sharp rock which then sliced along his left calf.

His body went limp with fatigue as he went rolling into some shrubs. Eyes going into a sleep like trance, he felt his body tumble down a steep incline until finally slamming down.

Dirt dust clouds him surrounded him leaving him in a coughing fit.

He remembered his breathing was staggered and slow- close to completely stopping- when the unfamiliar sound of hollow hooves hitting the ground grew closer.
So close that the impact of them slamming into the ground echoed sharply within the boys head.

And then they stopped.

'Am I dead?' The boy thought as the image of a clean, well manicured hand was extended out to him. When he took it, it was smooth and warm. Unlike his- dry and worn ones.

'"T-tha...nk. Y-you."
He smiled as his hazing gaze met his savours eyes. The icy blueness of them generated a feeling like his entire being was being pulled into a lake of frozen, yet warm, emotions. All the different shades of blue were all mixed together to from a hurricane of trepidation. Not a bad trepidation- but a more excited one. An ambitious feeling of a good sort of anxiety.

"You'll be okay."

--
Plehs let me know if I've made some stupid ass mistakes~~~

Part 2 will hopefully be out by the weekend but idk. ｖ（=＾0＾=）ｖ

I NEED TO WRAP THIS UP SINCE MY PHONE HAS 2% SHIT.
OkAy bYE fren.

-I_Drugged_Yo_Cereal