Hollow Heart

Makeshift houses from afar, the cold breeze of an upcoming rain waltzing the fields of gold. It was nine years ago since Gregoria had converted most of its land to fields to cater to the needs of its citizens, but for Nicolas, it was as clear as yesterday. He can still feel the pain and the emptiness that linger along with the fear, and his only memoir of his once-happy childhood, accompanied by Alisa and Arthur, only made the taste of guilt burn deeper in his throat and tongue.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered to the ribbon, a memento of Alisa, as he tried to clear his head on top of the tower where they spent one of those bright days of innocence.

Despite being unsure how he got it, his mother only explained that he was holding it when he came back that night. To where he has no recollection. In his other hand is a box, still tied with a red ribbon that no one had ever touched or tried to pry. It was a gift only for her, a gift he never had the chance to hand.

Living like this was not easy. Walking around the castle is torture—the pond, the well, the library, everything, and everywhere. He is not safe from the memories that haunt and remind him of his shortcomings. A similar feeling was felt when head maid Alisha tried to escape by retiring early to her relatives, although unlike her, the prince pushed through. This is his curse; this is his way to at least make up for those lost souls, to repent every day and all through the night. Besides, this is the only place he knows and he has a duty to the kingdom and its people, to whom he has caused great pain.

"Let's head back inside, young master; it's about to pour," Anton advised him from the exit.

"I'm not that young anymore," he said, hid everything back in his pocket, sighed, and then walked past his guard. Right, not young anymore, ever since then.

"You're just fifteen; even if you disagree, there are still things you don't know." He patted his head as he followed from behind.

"15 is just one year left for being an adult; sooner or later, everyone will expect more things from me and—"

"The sooner you realize it, the easier it will be. I know, Nicolas, I've heard you say that phrase too many times. Adulting will come; there is no need to rush things."

"Get your hands of me." Nicolas glared back at him.

"Yes, young master," Anton did not find it intimidating, not one bit and instead scuffled the prince's hair before heading down first. His laughter bouncing back and forth on the staircase.

"I will definitely take your head in your sleep," he declared as Anton went out of sight.

"I'd like to see you try, my apprentice."

Measures were needed to address the change around the kingdom. The knights' order had increased predominantly due to the King's fear of having the same incident happen again without proper response. Nicolas, too, had undergone vigorous training since he was eight, with the sword, bow, and anything else that Anton could teach him in addition to his earlier guidance. Literacy, arithmetic, and science were made sure to be taught by the best teachers Gregoria has.

"It is necessary; with the threat to his life, he will need it and he will sure be grateful when the time comes," Frederick angrily explained to the crying Nicolas, seeking refuge in the Queen's embrace that one time after his training.

Back then, he never had a chance to express his thoughts or worries; he just kept everything to himself. At first, it was painful, like accidentally taking a sip of a very hot tea, but eventually he got used to the pain. Rather, his tongue went numb after several years of drinking from the same hot cup.

"Finally, time to relax before that stubborn Father of mine finds an excuse to order me around on such a nice afternoon. I swear I can feel his burning gaze permeating from the castle walls," he said, scanning the corridors before entering his room.

Upon making sure that he's in the clear, he quickly closed the door and locked it, going to such measures to even latch a chair under the knob. "That should do it," he rejoiced before free falling on his bed. He rolled to his side before uncovering a book under his pillow.

It was a rather old book that he had had since he was a child. "This again— When would I stop dreaming of going on an adventure. I guess I have never really grown much."

After he lost his closest friends, he clung harder to these books. The adventures of Sasha, a brave woman who spent her years exploring the world and fighting monsters that had once roamed the Earth,. At least that's what the others think; for Nicolas, it is the truth and that truth saves him from falling deeper into despair. If not for it, he would have been completely blank; he's already feeling empty, Any more than that, and he's not sure if he would retain his sanity. He might kill himself if he's being honest.

"And then I took the giant mantis's sharp scythe and wielded it for future battles. Must be nice having no duties to shoulder, travelling the world, visiting beautiful places after places, but I sure hope no monsters like that exist. Imagine peacefully wandering through the woods and then encountering such terrifying monster that could gut you alive in a matter of seconds."

"NICOLAS," loud knocks came hammering down his door, intruding his peaceful noon. "Open this door at once, NICOLAS," said the king.

As stubborn as he is, the prince pretended to be absent. This is a gamble that could go both ways, His father might assume he's not there and leave or he might anger him even more, and the King might axe his way to get what he wants.

"I know you're in there, Nicolas, OPEN THIS DOOR, THIS INSTANCE."

"He's angry alright," he slowly sat back up, loosened his necktie, and messed up his hair to try and get the "I just woke up" look. He wore his tired expression and practiced his yawn all while making the big bad wolf wait outside. Removing the chair from the knob, he unlocked the door and procured a yawn. "Good, ahaaaffffternoon, father."

"Where have you been."

Well, if you haven't noticed, I was here the whole time. That's what came to mind but he knows it will only anger the man, so he scratched the thought and minded his tone. "I fell asleep."

"With a locked door? Don't lie to me, I can read you like an open book."

And I too can read you, father; he thought, although he knows that no word, no arithmetic formula, nor scientific discovery could explain what happened to their connection as father and son. It felt as if he just woke up one day and the King had that burning gaze directed at him. No matter what the reason was, he just wanted to ease what angered the King today.

"Prepare your stuff; tomorrow, before the break of dawn, we will head to Algernon."

Despite his almost monthly trip to Algernon, Nicolas, who was not against it, could not find the need for his presence during economic and peace negotiations. "Again? Can't I just stay here with mother? Plus, I need to continue training with the sword; it was you who wanted me to practice it in the first place."

"I know what I said, and this time I still know what I want for you to do. Now start packing and don't ask further questions."

"This is what I wanted," the prince imitated when Frederick came circling back.

"I heard that," he exclaimed before finally leaving.

"Another trip for goodness's sake. Why can't he wait till supper, We are bound to meet there whether I like it or not," Having nothing to do, he called some maids and prepared his stuff with a sigh.