Chapter 2: What the Prince Taught
“Master, please wake up. You’re going to be late for your morning classes.”
Prince Charles mooned in depression on his bed. “Five more minutes.”
“Come on, Master. The tutors are not going to be here forever. They have appointments to make.”
“Why can’t I skip out?”
“Because it's tradition.” I pulled the blankets off the Prince’s bed. “Come on, wake up.”
“Five more minutes.”
I abandoned hope in waking up Prince Charles with my usual technique, and it required something special to wake him up. He was never an early bird.
I went down to the kitchen to request a bucket of water from the castle chief. He agreed, and promptly brought me a bucket of water as I requested. Without haste, I climbed the stairs to the Prince’s isolated chamber.
Upon the humble bed, Prince Charles was sleeping soundly. I firmly griped the bucket by the handle, and poured the bucket’s contents on the Prince.
In response to the stimuli, the Prince woke, jolted from his sleeping position to an upright one, a bit dazed from what I did. Eventually, he turned his head towards me, giving me a look of friendly hatred.
“Sorry Master, I had no other way to wake you up.”
“Didn’t I already tell you this? I asked you to call me by my formal name, right?” He gave a yawn. “It makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“Sorry Master, but I am following house rules set by the King Paul. I must deny your request.”
The Prince gave a sigh, and got off his bed. “I’ll change this rule when I become king.”
“But Master, I was just a lowly sl…”
“...WAIT, dear servant, I told to never say that word to describe yourself.”
“Of course, Master.”
“Now then, let’s get to class.”
“Of course, Master.”
At that time, we were both ten. I became the personal servant of the Prince two years ago, taking care of his everyday needs. Nothing too bad in my opinion. He only wanted me to escort him to the places he went, opposed to the odd jobs the head servants expected the royalty to demand.
On the way to classes on the other side of the castle, I would have a casual chat with the Prince. However, the ideas he voiced were either respectable, frightening, or unprecedented.
He talked about a systems of government I never heard off, of the rights of man laid by former philosophers.
That day was special, as I remember, for he opted to teach me magic.
“I could not, Master. You must understand that magic can not ever be taught to the peasantry.”
“But aren’t you a servant of royalty.”
“Master, I’m still considered a peasant.”
“Hmph, you’re way too uptight. You don’t have to follow the rules so specifically. Whatever happened to freedom in this country?”
“Master, freedom is only a privilege enjoyed by the upper echelons of society.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“No it isn’t. I believe it’s a fundamental right.”
“Master, stop. I will not learn magic, and I shall ignore your teachings if you do so.”
“Dear servant, I command you to do so. Otherwise, I shall have you punished.”
“I am perfectly fine with that, Master.”
The Prince’s face grew a bright red, upset at how I went against his wishes. His face slowly paled before returning to normal. However, he walked on without talking to me. He took huge strides, which I had a hard time catching up too, most likely through strength enforcing magic.
I parted ways with him after seeing him safely enter the room under the guidance of his tutor, and walked to the servant’s house to do my share of my daily duties.
As I did my work, I worked in a small amount of elementary magic, hidden from the rest of the servants. It made my daily share of work easier and quicker.
As the sun set down on the horizon, the signal for me to pick up the Prince came, and I walked to the Prince’s classroom upon the dusk backdrop.
Waiting outside of the classroom, Prince walked out momentarily after I had arrived. He stretched his arms, and his depressed face showed his discontent with the classes that he took.
“Man, I’m beat. Can, you take me back…” The Prince slumped over and immediately fell asleep. The long, hot summer day had beat him into pulp. I slumped him over my back, and set his limbs into position for a piggyback ride. I held him tightly as I strolled down the hallway to the bath.
I dampened a towel and wiped the sweat off his face and his body. Again, I carried him in a piggyback style, and walked to the dining room, and set his body upon the gilded chair in front of rows of unused chairs that have not entertained guests for years. I woke him up with a nudge on his shoulder. After remaining motionless for a moment, I nudged him again, this time with more force. He momentarily woke up, when I quickly force fed him a fraction of the food that was prepared for him, before he fell asleep. I picked him up, and carried him to bed.
“Good night, Master.” There was no response except for deep breathing as I left the room.
Some days I must admire the Prince. He presses on with all his might. He takes classes that he does not even need to. He works hard in every one, blacking out daily from his hard work. The Prince was someone great. And he was in my opinion. How he continues daily with such condition, I wonder. However, I was always happy to be by his side.
He continued this lifestyle daily except for Sunday, when he was required to pray to God by the church. Everyday, he surprised me with ideas I never imagined, philosophies I never heard of, and concepts that were magical. One day, I knew he would become a great man. What surprised me was not his wits nor his ability. What did surprise me was his ability to continue. I would have assumed it would continue to the day of his coronation as the King of Gaul.