The illegitimate prince

The huge palace was a beautiful castle that had a commanding and majestic aura, with different servants working in and out of it, to maintain the ancestral beauty of it. It was well structured with cross-garbles, lucarnes and high fortified walls. Inside the largest of beautiful rooms where the thrones royal family was, sat the great king and queen Roywood.

"How many times have I told you never to step foot outside of this palace again?" The Alpha king, Aldfrith asked the young prince who was kneeling before him with his head bowed. He wore upon his head, a canary golden crown that was embellished with beautiful stars, and around him a black croak with a gold mantle. With the so much intensity in his father's voice, one would have expected him to cower like the others did.

Instead, he raised his eyes and squinted it to the other side, gazing directly at the only person who had known he left the palace. His older brother, Zachary.

Zachary had looked immediately at the other side, when he saw that he had been caught with guilt and betrayal clearly scribbled all over his face.

The only one person he had thought was on his side, had ditched him today again. What a hard life it sure was.

"Am I talking, to someone here?!" His father demanded in fury, needing some sort of convincing explanation from him. But still, he remained silent.

There was nothing he had to say. Regardless of the excuse he would give, something unexciting would still happen.

"Is your father not talking to you?" the queen cut in angrily, with laser beams almost shooting out of her beautiful blue eyes. The queen Etheldreda, was a noble woman of dignity, daunting looks and impeccable beauty. She wore the best silk dresses on her flawless and milky skin, and the most beautiful diamonds on her neck and as her crown.

The young prince remained silent still, with his hand clasped around his back. His silence had always aggravated them the more, and that was something he did everytime. He would never explain himself.

"Take him, and have him flogged appropriately for his wrong doings," the queen commanded, even before the king could alter another word.

And that degree was final, he rarely opposed whatever his wife said or gave as judgement.

After the verdict had been passed, the queen stood from the golden chair where she sat, and left the huge room with the king. Everywhere around the room had become silent.

In his room, Ayden laid on his chest with his both hands spread apart and above his head. His back had swollen and parallel line of bruises, that had traces of dried blood on them, which was as a result of the flogging he had received earlier. He just laid still on the soft bed, choosing to ignore his pain.

It wasn't even the wounds that really hurt, but his poor heart that had just been tossed once again.

The door knocked slowly and it was a middle aged servant that had entered. She had brought medications and ointment to relieve him of the pain from bruises. He really hated the facade that was always put up everytime they had treated him rashly, 'A very disgusting act.' he called it.

As she made to move close to him to dress the wound, he politely rejected her gesture and offered to do it himself. Immediately she turned and left through the huge mahogany door, he rose from his position and locked it. He would hate to see anyone come around for any reason again.

He sat on the bed and stared at the bottle of ointment, and pieces of soft cloth cuttings that Matilda had brought. He was certainly never going to use any of it on his wounds, because last time he did, it was a very terrible experience.

The supposed ointment that was supposed to relieve the pain and make the wounds heal faster, only made it hurt worse than it did before and burnt the wounds again, making the healing process slow and painful.

Ayden put his hand into the cloth he had worn earlier that laid on the floor, and brought out some sort of unrefined ointment he had bought earlier from the market. He then faced his back to the mirror, and slowly applied it carefully on the wound straining his hand. Though it did hurt slightly, it was better than the one the palace could ever offer.

He had envisaged something of such could happen when he sneaked out, and had prepared himself only to meet disappointment from his brother.

"Everyone are just hypocrites," he murmured in spite.

After mulling on what to do next, he decided to do his favourite thing which was painting. Neither could he see anyone, nor go outside the palace, until he turned whatever age they were talking about. He was just locked up in his own room, lonely. And he totally hated it.

There were gossips amongst the palace servants, about why the king never looked with favour his last son, as he did with the others.

"He is an illegitimate child."

"No, I heard the day he was born, the king was given a bad premonition by the seer."

"Wrong tale," another hissed, "He always defy the king's orders, and his father would never let him go free just because he is a prince."

"The queen always gives the punishment. It is wrong to say the father hates his child," one tried to debunk.

"I wonder if it's love or being a puppet," another whispered.

They all talked about words that could have their heads off, if heard by someone who would rat them out.

Ayden had always heard them gossip around in their corners secretly, because unlike the others he was always walking or sneaking around in the palace, without an intimidating presence or ostentatious scene.

He often blended in with the many servants always working, and knew most of what was always going on in the palace. He was the last child among the king's children and the most pretty and fairest of all. Some said it was because his mother, was the most beautiful of all servants that worked in the palace, but only few knew the true story.

How a servant had the king's child and how it happened, no one could tell at all. Except, the deseased lady herself, and the king who refused to speak of the day, or what had incited his sexual desires towards a lowly servant.

But what shocked them so, was the fact that the feared and menacing queen forgave her husband, and never took it up as an issue. It was never hers to do.

The young prince who was so bored from being in his room all day, picked up his canvas and palette pack and took the short road to the palace garden. It was a wonderful and enchanting garden that looked like a paradise, and had everything one would wish for in a dream garden. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

The systematic arrangement of the pretty flowers that had the best synchronizing colour effects, and the overpowering and lovely scent of the flowers, that lingered in the air soothed everywhere perfectly well. And just at the perfect position, was a wooden chair where one could seat, relax happily, and enjoy the feeling of nature.

"The person that set this garden must have been an art genius," he often said, anytime he was at the garden.

The wooden chair was painted so beautifully with different kinds of flowers patterns, that could be found right in the garden. He always adored the work of the artist who had also painted the chair.

The palace garden was almost the only place Ayden found his solace, and a place he could call his hideout, since not many people went there anyways. And he was thankful that nobody ever restricted him from going there.

"It is better than sneaking out," his father would always say.

Soon, he set to work and had started painting, the great picture he had in his mind and head. He was going to paint the picture of the garden for the first time in a very long time, but with an imaginary lady sitting on the chair of flowers this time. She was going to be clothed in most beautiful dress, and wear on a head, a crown of glowing diamonds.

Time had passed by, and the young prince anxiety and anger suddenly grew within him as he completed his beautiful painting nervously. He needed not to be told that his teacher would soon be around, and the thought of it really made him sick.

Matteo was Ayden's personal teacher and he hated the man so much, than anyone he had ever disliked. He rarely taught him anything like the other teachers would have done, and always expected him to always be ahead of every class. He never explained anything he couldn't understand, and always gave him difficult puzzles to solve which he had the queen punish him, if he ever got them wrong.

Worst of all was that, he would always make derogatory statements towards Ayden, telling him to give up whatever he had in his mind picture. The one time he complained to his father for his teacher to be changed, the queen had cut in and said it was his lazy attitude that made him complain unnecessarily.

He never did again.

Ayden just wished the man would disappear from his life forever. But nevertheless, he was so glad that just had three more classes with Matteo, before he would become finally free from his classes. No one in the palace had ever offered to teach him anything, or even trained him like they did for his brothers.

He wondered if he could continue existing for a long time, in the cold palace where seemed to genuinely care about him. The only person that did was in a vegetative state, and he had not even gone to see her for days. Everytime he did, his heart always broke.

Ayden always trusted himself to do best in everything he wanted to do, and regardless of how tough everyone was on him, no matter how much they loathed him. He believed he would always find his way, that a way would always find him. But, he couldn't really guarantee those beliefs he had always had again with time.