I woke up, or should I say was awoken, early in the day. I hadn’t slept enough at all considering how long I stayed awake last day, but that didn’t seem to bother the maid that barged into my room in the slightest. Not like she had any choice in the matter though, probably ordered to do so by my parents or siblings. Like everyone in the castle she simply went about following her orders, not talking back or questioning. Of course, not everyone was cruel enough to punish a maid simply for making a snide remark here or there, but from getting fired to getting capital punishment all was in store if you offended the royal family enough, so almost no one would risk it.

As if to confirm my thoughts I dispelled the fog still hanging over my head by drinking the water the maid had brought me and started feeling her emotions, mostly boredom with a tinge of pity; I guess whoever ordered her to wake me was angry with me.

I finished my drink and handed the glass back to her. Before she could speak up however I interrupted her.

“Good morning, I take it my father expects me in his study?” I asked her, guessing at what was going on from the context and her emotions. When I went outside I hid the fact that I was a royal, just as I hid the fact that I had special abilities, but in the castle information about me has already made its rounds to the point that trying to hide it would be pointless. For that reason most of the servants don’t like me and avoid contact with me if possible, fearing that thoughts or feelings they would rather keep hidden would get dragged out into the open. Of course, unless I had reason to act, like in the case of an assassination attempt, I wouldn’t do something like that, after all I wouldn’t want people to just openly discuss things I kept hidden either. But regardless, most servants didn’t like me. This one elderly maid, her name was Grace, didn’t seem to dislike me or at least I never got that feeling from her, as such she is often asked to perform duties pertaining to me.

“I take it you know what’s going on then. Yes, his majesty has ordered me to wake you and tell you to come to his study as quickly as possible.” Grace said.

“Can I at least use the toilet before I go or does he want me to pee my pants as a punishment too?” I joked.

“While it would be funny to see, I am sure that much will be permitted, but he was quite clear in telling me that you are to report first thing in the morning, so I wouldn’t take too much time, your highness.”

“I get it, but Grace, you know I don’t like being called “your highness”, can’t you just call me Alex?”

“You said that much before. I can only repeat myself again, while you might not mind I certainly don’t think it would be appropriate to refer to you by your given name. And I am sure the royal family would agree.” Grace said with a tone not even hiding that she was tired of having this discussion, no need for me to read her feelings. I liked this about Grace. She was open. Not to the point of being disrespectful, as evident in our discussion, but she was one of the few people who wouldn’t constantly pay attention to let none of their true feelings slip through, frequently showing even us, the royal family, her annoyed expressions. She was a maid in the royal palace even before my father took over the throne 30 years ago, so she has a certain amount of respect and leeway, but has enough self awareness to know when to step down, or at least, I never heard of someone complaining about Grace overstepping her bounds in earnest, though my siblings, unsurprisingly, didn’t particularly like her.

“You never seem to change, do you?” I said with equal annoyance to what Grace directed at me just before.

“On this matter, I am afraid not, no matter how many times you ask me, your highness. Now, as I still have other duties in the castle, I am afraid I must take my leave. Please do not tardy on your way to His Majesty.”

Just like that, she left the room, without even asking what this was about. Maybe she had already heard as much from my father, maybe she just truly didn’t care. Ironically enough, honest Grace left me puzzled more often than those who tried to hide their true feelings.

Anyway, I went to do my business, got dressed in casual, though in my opinion still flashy and expensive looking clothes and made my way to my father’s study. Where he would surely be waiting for me with a mountain of documents, letters and other papers.

I made my way through the castle quickly, knowing it the way I do and found myself standing in front of my father’s study in no time at all, despite the ridiculous size of my home.

I knocked on his door and waited for a response.

“Come in.” I heard my father’s commanding, yet lifeless voice from behind the door and opened it.

There my father sat at his desk. He was tall and muscular, but not overly so, his body giving off the impression of a well trained soldier. His hair was, same as mine, blonde. He wore a full, but well trimmed beard on his stern face. More often than not he could be seen with a serious face, making ever so slight frown lines appear on the otherwise too-youthful-for-his-age looking face. Apparently my family ages slower than the normal person, or so I have been told. Now whether that is the truth or just another piece of glorified lore I did not know.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He looked up from whatever he was reading and made a face I can’t quite describe upon seeing me enter the room.

“Sit down, son.” He commanded me, in his usual curt way and I followed suit, sitting down in front of him. I looked at his face from across the table, but found it hard to read. My father’s emotions, or for that matter those of all gifted ones, were harder for me to get a read on, to a small or large degree depending on the person. It wasn’t like I had trouble understanding what I felt from them, but like there was a higher wall to climb, like I had to concentrate more to understand them properly, meaning I wasn’t constantly aware of what they felt with as much detail or ease as most people.

Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke.

“I am disappointed in you, son.”

Here we go again, I thought to myself. The same old story about how I am not acting as my royal status demands of me, how I shouldn’t be seen in public like that, how I need to follow the rules my family sets to not disgrace the royal name, etc. etc.

“Not only did you disregard the rules to go out fooling around in town, once more, you also stayed out so late that once you returned it was the middle of the night. Are you confident that you can fend for yourself in that situation? That you wouldn’t ever end up disgracing the royal family in any way? Not to speak of the disgrace that seeing the young prince wandering around, acting like any other boy from the town brings in and of itself.”

Yup, there we go, same old story.

I didn’t answer him. Instead just silently taking it all in, like I always have, dreaming of this and that while doing my best at pretending to listen.

“And what’s more, I hear that a commoner escorted you to the castle. Of all the things to be happening, for you to rely on the help of a commoner when you are the prince of the Manier Kingdom, destined to lead the people with strength unlike their own, is shameful. Perhaps we should punish that man, if only to teach you a lesson.”

What? I snapped back into reality from my dreams of distant lands at that.

“What? Why would he be punished? He didn’t even know I was a prince, I never told them.” I was panicking at the thought of Gert suffering because he helped me out.

“You expect me to believe that when he saw you to the castle?” My father snorted.

“I… Yes he figured it out, but it is true I never told him.”

“So what? Are you that stupid? Of course some of the townsfolk would realize who you are by face, that is precisely the reason why we can’t have you playing around like that. It reflects poorly on us."

“Still, he doesn’t deserve to get punished, he was only helping me out.”

“You are right. He is a good man, helping you out without wanting anything in return, many would have left you out of worry for misunderstanding or tried to use you for their own gain. He does not deserve to be punished, but you don’t seem to learn your lesson about what you are doing any other way. Maybe the consequences need to befall those around you before you understand, after all you have always been empathetic, if nothing else.”

I could hear the scorn in my father’s voice. He was never happy with me or my powers. He always expects his children to be strong, dignified, independent and regal. By comparison to my siblings, I was always weak, insecure of my place and unhappy with the regal life. As annoying as the tone and its implications were, as much as I wanted to argue what was wrong with being empathetic to the people, I knew that it would only make father even more displeased with me. And I couldn’t imagine how I could ever face my friends, how I could ever face myself, again if because of me Gert ended up suffering or at worst even dying.

Feeling like I had no choice but to appease my father I spoke out in a panicked voice.

“I-I will stop sneaking out from now on. I will stay in the castle and study what you want me to. I’ll even try my hardest at combat training, so please don’t hurt him, father.”

My father let out a long, dreary sigh at that.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“... I promise, I won’t.” I had nothing else to say.

“Listen son, seeing as I can clearly not trust you to follow my orders without extreme external pressure and quite frankly at this point I am sick and tired of dealing with you and your antics, we will do as follows: You are free to go out and play around. Do whatever you want, but whenever you are caught fraternizing with common people, they and their family will be imprisoned on grounds of conspiracy against the crown. If that’s what you want, feel free. Now leave, I have work to finish.”

I always knew my father didn’t expect much of me and I thought I had come to terms with it, but hearing so clearly that he didn’t even have it in him anymore to try and correct my behavior; that he cares so little, he doesn’t even bother to ask about me or my behaviors, still hurt.

I tried my hardest to not cry, but couldn’t stop myself from sniffling regardless as I stood up and left, only getting out a mumbled “I understand”.

At that point I realized that my father truly does not care about me and what little connection I had left with him, with my family, save for a single brother of mine who never treated me like the others, broke.

As such, it marked the beginning of my life among strangers that call themselves my family.