Chapter Text
Mike thinks the Prince will like this flower. It’s purple, and its petals are short and spread out along the stem vertically as opposed to the normal horizontal placement he’s used to seeing from a flower. It smells like sleep, like calm, like a soothing hand on your forehead from your mother.
Mike thinks the Prince might need a flower like this today, for he cries a lot when the King returns to the castle from protecting the borders of the kingdom. Yet he smiles endlessly when it’s just the Queen, the other Prince, and himself. Mike likes it when he smiles because it makes his green eyes light up and his bunny-like front teeth show. The Prince is beautiful when he smiles.
And Mike knows that presenting the Prince with a flower makes him smile, especially when he’s been crying. He’s done this before, albeit secretly at the start.
Being a servant boy, he isn’t supposed to talk to the Royal family. Mike doesn’t even know the Prince’s name. But he watches over him with the rest of the staff that live in the castle. Nevermind that he and the Prince are of a similar age. Mike wants to be a Knight someday, so he has made it his purpose to be the Prince’s protector. Both physically and emotionally, and since the Prince is never in any real danger, Mike tends to focus mostly on his emotional wellbeing. Hence the flowers.
There’s a window sill on the first floor in the Royal library that overlooks the courtyard. The stained glass windows are usually open during the warm months to air out the old pages of the ancient books. And the Prince likes to spend his free time there reading and secretly painting. That stone ledge is where Mike likes to place his floral offerings for the Prince to find.
Mike usually hides in bushes that line the bottom of the window and patiently waits for the Prince to come and collect his gifts. He stays silent so no one, not even the Prince, knows it’s he who leaves the flowers. Mike would most likely get in trouble, possibly even thrown out of the castle, if anyone saw him acting out such a gesture and he wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize bringing the Prince joy.
So he sits and counts the minutes until the doors of the library open and then close. Then listens intently for the small footsteps that belong to the Prince. And he chances a glance up to watch the delicate hand gingerly reach for the bloom. Sometimes he hears a gasp of surprise and other times the footsteps are quick, like the Prince is running toward him.
But a few days ago, the unthinkable occurred. Mike picked a flower for the Prince like usual, a yellow cup-like blossom with only four big petals, and carefully set it on the window sill. The Prince was taking a little longer to come but Mike knew the King had returned last night. Even though he understood the Prince’s lateness, the anticipation of waiting was overwhelming.
After a very long while, the doors opened and then closed. The footsteps went from faint to clear as they approached the window sill. But when the Prince made it to the window, Mike could hear his quiet sobs. And when he looked up to watch the Prince’s hand reach for the flower, he saw it was shaking. Mike’s never been the most tactful but he couldn’t just sit there while his Prince was in pain.
So Mike popped up from the bushes and came face to face with the boy he wasn’t supposed to talk to. The Prince was even more beautiful up close. His short brown hair covered his forehead and just skimmed the tops of his pointed ears. His green eyes shined from the tears that ceased the moment Mike revealed himself. The Prince’s face was blotchy and his nose was running but that hardly mattered when his beauty transcended even the most mortal of afflictions.
The Prince gasped and took a small step back, blinking rapidly to release the remaining tears.
“I apologize for the intrusion, my liege.” Mike had then ducked down in a low bow, remembering his station. “Is there anything I can do for you? For I find I don’t enjoy it when you cry.”
Mike kept his head low, but peaked up through his lashes to gaze at the Prince, who continued blinking in response. Then he used the backs of his hands to wipe the tear tracks away from his cheeks, bumping the floral offering against his eye in the process.
It startled him, and the Prince looked down at the blossom and then back up to Mike, “Is it you who has been leaving these flowers for me?”
“Yes, my liege.” Mike remained bent over.
“You do not need- I am not- will you please stand?”
Mike slowly stood up but continued to avert his eyes, possibly out of respect but definitely out of nervousness. His throat was tight, “Please forgive me for acting out of turn, my liege—”
“You do not need to- will you please look me in the eyes?”
Mike’s eyes snapped up at the impossibly kind worded order and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Prince glaring at him in frustration. It was impossible for his face to be intimidating. The Prince’s cheeks were flushed red and his hands sat over his hips defiantly, but faltered the moment their eyes met. He relaxed and a soft smile spread across his face, erasing away any sign of the other emotions he’d also experienced. The Prince was smiling at him. His heart hammered in his chest like it was fighting to leave his body and throw itself onto him.
The Prince brought the flower close to his chest and fully stepped up to the window, “Thank you, kind sir. Receiving these thoughtful gestures of beauty have been the favorite part of all my days of late.”
All Mike could do was smile in return, not expecting to dreamily sigh in front of the Prince while he did it. He cleared his throat and made his voice deeper for some reason, “I would bring you a whole field of blossoms if it pleases you, my liege. Just give the order and it will be done.”
The Prince laughed, bringing the flower to his lips to stifle his expression, “You appear like a knight but are only a boy like myself.”
Mike stepped up flush with the stone wall and his fingers settled on the ledge, “And just like a knight, I would do anything for my Prince. Even if I am just a boy like yourself.”
The Prince leaned over the window sill with his elbows nearly touching Mike’s hands. He held the flower under his nose, his green eyes boring into Mike thoroughly. “When my brother is King, I shall tell him that you are to be knighted. For your service to the crown’s wellbeing.”
Mike was flattered but shook his head in disbelief, “Forgive me, my liege, but do I really deserve such an honor for simply bringing you a flower?”
The Prince uncharacteristically scoffed and promptly dropped the yellow flower on the ledge. He then spun around to run to a specific spot on one of the book shelves, pulled a small, brown book from the stacks and returned swiftly.
“It is not as simple or as mundane as you make your gestures out to be, my Knight.” The Prince carefully set the book on the window sill and opened it to show flowers pressed between each page. “You have taken care to ensure that no gift is the same as the last. I did not know this many flowers existed in our kingdom.”
Mike knew he never duplicated any flower he’d given the Prince, but he never thought to keep count of how many he’d picked. But there they were, from the first bloom, a light green flower with small petals that are concentrated in the center and fan out in a tuft circle, to the latest, a blue flower with only five petals. The Prince turned to a new page and placed the yellow cup-like blossom before closing the book to begin pressing it. The tips of the Prince’s pointed ears and the tops of his cheeks grew red as he smiled at the book and then at Mike. The sight made him swoon.
“How many are there now, my liege?” Mike whispered.
The Prince’s eyes flicked up to meet him before averting to the side, “This is the one hundredth and twenty-third flower.”
Mike grinned, noting how quickly the Prince answered. One hundred and twenty-three flowers. He didn’t realize how long he’d been doing this. How long he’d been trying to keep the Prince in good spirits. One hundred and twenty-three flowers have been gifted and this is the first time the Prince has known who’s been giving them.
Learning the Prince had kept every single piece of nature Mike had given him on that day continued to make his heart swell with happiness whenever he recalled it. And he was hoping this sprig of purple would press nicely between the pages of that brown book. The one hundred and twenty-fourth bloom.
So Mike carefully picks the flower and holds it close to keep the petals intact as he sneaks back into the castle walls by way of a crack hidden behind a well trimmed bush. He enters the courtyard with quiet feet, making a beeline to the library window. But as he’s about to set the flower on the ledge, he pauses. The window is closed, but when he left the castle grounds that morning, it was open. Strange.
Then he hears what can only be described as a commotion. Guards clad in metal and leather bound out of the castle in every direction, the Head Guard barking orders to secure the perimeter. Mike hears something about locating the Prince before it’s too late but that can’t be right. He should be in the library. He’s always in the library at this time of day.
Mike remains as hidden as possible in the bushes under the window until the courtyard is empty once again. Then he stealthily makes his way into the castle and then the library, all while keeping the Prince’s flower safe. He slips inside the grand double doors of the library unnoticed and hides in the stacks of unsorted books near the entrance.
The room is usually quiet, Mike thinks that’s why the Prince likes to be there. But now it’s buzzing with hushed, worried voices. One of which belongs to the Queen.
“Where is my son?”
“Your Majesty, we are doing all we can—”
“My son is somewhere out there! Lost! And nightfall will come!”
The Prince is missing? He’s nowhere inside the castle? Not anywhere on the grounds? Just gone? Mike looks down at the purple flower and his breathing becomes shallow. Maybe if he was staying close to the castle instead of looking for foolish flowers to give to the Prince, the Prince would be here to receive it. This is Mike’s fault. He’s supposed to protect the Prince. He told him how it pleased him to do so. He throws the calm smelling flower down, but it stays intact when it hits the stone floor so he stomps on it to feel some kind of release.
Mike needs to find him. He needs to leave now and search every corner of this kingdom for the green eyed boy with a radiant smile and bring him back. It’s the least his Knight can do for him. So he begins to quickly march out of the library before pivoting towards the bookshelf where the Prince keeps that brown book. He plucks it off the shelf and cradles it impossibly close to his heart. This book holds their shared affection, his devotion and the Prince’s acceptance of it.
The longer Mike looks at the book, the bigger the fire in his heart grows. He’s going to find his Prince and bring him back, or die trying.