We left for town the next day, and Jonathan gave us more requests, such as what color the curtains should be, what types of tablecloth to match. Jonathan said he would come for us because we were going to need him to pay up, and he didn't trust me with banknotes.

Now that I think of it, if only he had given it to me—maybe I would decide to run away with Clive, to a new land. We could live off the money and rent an attic or stay in an inn and then find jobs. I could work in a coffee shop or restaurant. Clive was good at talking but somehow I couldn't imagine him working. He was smart, though.

When we got out of the carriage I asked Jonathan if we could go look around town. He grimaced and handed me a small leather wallet with some money in it. He had another wallet, which father only ever entrusted to Jonathan. It had our proud family crest on it, stitched one by one and so carefully, with bright blues and browns.

"Vagrant—you could buy something for yourself, too," Jonathan called out after we turned.

"Don't worry," Clive turned to him. "I've been making money in the academy. Thank you for the thought, sir."

We walked and I had forgotten about the money the Headmaster sent us in envelopes. We had a good amount but coppers weren't actually of much used compared to the banknotes Goldenvale now used.

Our kingdom held great pride in the past kings and their regal faces were inked on printed paper along beautiful script in such a way the banknote read as a prayer.

...thou shall not harm your fellow man, as the Goldenvale rulers never have, and through this graciousness we shall love them. Cheers to the Kingdom of Gold, and all fellow countries that subside to Goldenvale's King..."

I had grew up reciting similar passages and realized Clive might've never saw our banknotes. Would he wish to, or feel humiliated for asking for coppers?

Maybe his coppers could buy an expensive book or decent wallet, we had a lot of coppers, but it would be strange for him to pay with coppers one by ones. We wandered around and Clive elbowed me in his coat, pointing at a certain shop.

We went in and he looked in awe at the rolls of fabric they had. It was a dressmaker's, but before I could explain he was walking around, feeling the fabric.

"These are for clothing," I whispered.

"If only I saw such beautiful things before. These vibrant colors, changing under the light, and these soft designs like embroidery. Look at that, such thing and sheer fabric." Clive's face looked more sad than what he was saying.

"Why do you look so sad? It's only fabric," I plainly stated.

"Do you not think of your mother, Nathan? I barely remember my mother, but I know I used to drink a lot of water once, because she was always making sure I had water and where the puddles formed."

I couldn't speak. I looked down in shame and touched a blue roll of fabric. I missed mother, too. I missed her so much I had forced myself to forget her, forced my life to be about knighthood.

If mother were alive, would she be distant like father, or would she be happy I fell in love, and tell me to cherish him?

"Let's move on," Clive said abruptly.

"You're right, is there anything you want in particular?"

"No, I was thinking maybe candy for my friends."

"Candy?" I was stunned.

Clive was still a child at heart, like a child getting pocket money for the first time and using it for something small but sweet.

"Let's look for a wallet for you to put your coins," I explained softly. "Or even new shoes. Maybe clothing, you don't have a lot," I said, thinking I could pay for it as a present.

"Those don't matter to me, I guess. I want to get something we can both have, and match." Clive looked around at the store, windows displaying dolls and painted wooden figures, as well as toy animals.

"What? Do you mean an accessory? We can't buy good cufflinks with what we have," I muttered.

We passed by a store selling accessories, earrings in boxes and necklaces on a mannequin as well as brooches.

"Let's get earrings," Clive said.

"You need pierced ears," I said.

Clive turned to me and raised his hair. "They are pierced."

I was stunned for a while before he laughed. "It's common in my country. The men wear long earrings and the women wear small gems, which is very different from Goldenvale."

"Did you come from the Southern Lands?" I was confused.

Will told me how in his country makes wore their hair long and plain, but imagining Clive dressed in tribal were with long earrings was different. It made me see him like—exotic. Distant and far from me. A different world, even.

"Then let's buy earrings. You can wear them," I quickies declared, not wanting to say I wanted to see him in them.

We walked into the store and saw the earrings. We pointed out many, me pointing out green ones like his eyes, and he pointing at blue ones because of my family emblem.

"What do you want?" I asked after we saw everything in the earrings section.

"I want to match with you. Goldenvale has men who wear earrings," Clive told me.

"Yes, but it's reserved for men who are engaged or married." I sighed. Clive knew nothing about Goldenvale.

"Well, you have me."

"I can't, I'll only get one piercing, then. Both would mean they are married." I looked at him. "Is that fine?"

"Your hair would cover it, anyways," Clive grinned. "Just one, then."

Finally a lady came to ask us if we needed help.

"Can you pierce ears?" Clive asked.

"Yes," she beamed. "It'll cost twenty coppers!"

"Alright, can he have one ear pierced them?" Clive pulled my arm but I didn't argue. If he wanted me to get one I suppose I would.

The lady made me sit down as I was taller than her, and then a long needle protruded. I looked at Clive for help, and he smiled.

"Will it hurt—"

"Please refrain from sudden movements," the lady said, "would you like it to be your left or right?"

"Right?" I randomly said. I couldn't think.

"Do you have an earring chosen?"

I looked at Clive who grinned. "Yes we do," he said, reaching out to give her the earring.

It was green, a small simple gem I liked. I thought of seeing Clive's eyes on my ears forever.

"Thank you. I'll begin now."

She blocked Clive and tucked my hair behind my right earlobe, then angled the needle. I wanted in anguish as it entered and I felt this searing pain. It was only my earlobe but hurt worse than my finger incident.

She stepped back. "All done."

"This is it?" I asked nervously. I released my clenched fists and sighed. "Can I remove the earring?"

"Wait for a few months, make sure it's healed but twist the earring occasionally." She chuckled lightly. "You certainly seemed scared there. I was also nervous piercing your ear!"

"It's better now, I just never got it pierced," I whispered, embarrassed she could tell. Clive was away looking at earrings again.

"My name is Catherine Constance. What's your name?"

"I'm Nathaniel Ro—Rogers," I said, drawling out the word Rogers. "Yes. Rogers."

"What about your friend?" Her eyes turned to him and this unease and disgust rose up in me like vile, sour and bitter.

Of course, Nathan, why would she even talk to you, a weakling who couldn't take the pain of a needle so small? Look at Clive, his golden hair trimmed by Richie, his suit under the coat and boots that made him look like an adult knight.

We were incomparable.

"Clive!" I stood up. "Did you choose an earring?"

He looked at me and smirked as though seeing me so scared was funny. "Dummy, I'm going to wear the one you have, on my left."

He went to pay and although I stood close to him, as though marking him, the woman was still buttering him up and making small talk.

"Yes, I'm sure you'd look lovely with earrings too! Oh, it's pierced already? I bet you must have charmed many girls before," she said, now giggling and being girlish. "I don't see anything on now."

Clive calmly paid and then took the other earring, and put it on.

"Have a good night, then," he said, almost in a dismissive tone. He left the store and I felt him grab for my hand.

"She's just stupid. Stop sulking, Nathan," Clive said jokingly.

"I'm not sulking. The earring just hurts." I lied, but that same feeling overcame me. When we walked, I was his shadow.

Would there ever be a day when you and your shadow can exist side by side?

As lovers?

We finally found a leather store and for certain wallets, they were cheaper. I never had one but it was around the age for me to have one. I looked through them, wondered if I should choose the dyed leather versus the raw hide.

Clive chose quickly, it was a simple one that was black and would blend in with our school outfit. I hesitated before choosing dark brown in a similar fashion.

We paid and I was surprised how much coppers we collected—and corpses we trampled on.

But it was Clive's first time going around Goldenvale. I had to make this a happy experience.

We left again and it was late evening. I hoped Jonathan had done what we didn't, but we returned to the carriage.

"You called Jonathan 'sir' before," I suddenly realized. "You can call him Jonathan."

"I can't," Clive said bluntly.

I didn't press on, but I think I knew what he meant with that simple phrase. He can't, I suppose, to any Goldenvale citizen. He will always be a vagrant.

He gestured to a store and I entered, and inside they had several pieces of artwork. We skipped past the paintings side to look at ink drawings. One caught my eye; it had an image of two men together in a garden of roses—no, camellias. The flowers were less detailed than the two men themselves.

One sat there reading, a serene expression, and the other was sketching his image. Their curls were detailed with lines and one man had dark, longer hair. The tea on the table in the garden reflected the skies. It was lovely, like a snapshot of time.

I picked it up and waited for Clive to finish. He bought some prints of grand castle and running horses, mane wild, and the usual.

We had used up our money and when I left I could help but hug my print to myself, scared I'd crush it.

"Does your ear still hurt?" Clive asked.

I laughed to myself. "Yes, it does."