Cinder-knight (bxb)

"Rule number one: Keep your priorities straight. You're a Knight, not a princess. Rule number two: Do not cry. It might hurt when he'll kiss her and crown her as his bride, but remember your spot. You're not supposed to cry. Rule number three: Stop staring. Don't show anyone what's going on in your mind, it's only going to get you hurt. In conclusion: prince charming will always be Cinderella's, and you'll just be another knight in the bush." .... In a long lost fairy tale land... A knight would day dream about his prince, day and night. Of how his elegant voice would susurrate in the air like pearls in the ocean, of how his pretty blue eyes would stare his way like delicate flowers, begging to be adored. Excuse the profanity, but in truth, Eric found his Prince to be absolute-f*****g hot. It was no lie that the most charming Prince Charming was absolutely (you guessed it) charming. Like a sugercoated lie, he would come to your dreams, haunt you, make your wood stand up lively and rigid in the middle of a crowd as people would eye you in amusement, and at the end of the day, his strikingly handsome face would dominate your senses, tyrannizing you wholly. That was exactly how Eric felt, as he let out a dreamy sigh while seeing the way people passed by him. There was not an exact same time (at least in Eric's memory) when he had first fallen for the all glorious prince, yet for sure, the knight was already aware that his heart beats for the royal. But it wasn't going to end up good, he knew. Cause Prince Charming was already taken. "Eric, hey hey. At least try not to space out. I wouldn't want death penalty to strike before you get to see the prince's wedding." "Trust me, I would rather prefer it go that way," Eric answered as he casted his fellow Knight; Sebastian, a look of ennui. Their shifts were prolonged compared to the wage they were getting, as the crown prince of the land of Ozoo was in the brink of marriage with a comonner girl named Mary Beth Ella Gertrude, which meant, double work for the knights. So being too worn out to the point where you would space out frequently during your vigil was surely expected, definitely from Eric, who was not only tired but also heartbroken at the hope of his one true love becoming his, being chased far away from his vicinity. And he would have to watch Prince Charming getting married to Mary Beth Ella Gertrude, who didn't just wound him mentally by stealing the guy, but also by having a name that was ridiculously too long. Mary Beth, more commonly known as Cinderella, was a pretty girl originally born into a family of riches. She was a viscount's daughter, yet after the remarriage of her father with a cruel woman, Cinderella's life was downcasted into the absolute worst. Though calling a young lady who's just about to become the crown princess, with a word such as 'cinder' was a tad bit flippant, but since the hearsay about the hell-times Mary Beth had to go through because of her stepmother and stepsisters had been running around town in lightning speed, the name calling was inevitable. Yet now, everything was about to change. As the most charming Prince Charming had charmingly chosen her as the soon to be wife of his; also the future queen of the land of Ozoo, all the bad things she had to endure will be gone to dust. Eric writhed up to the compartment where his comrades rested after finishing his patrol. With few tugs, he removed the plates of his armor and changed into a comfortable tunic before slumping down on the bottom bunk bed which was temporarily his. A lamp was hung in the far-most corner of the room, so that there would be a bit of light for the sleeping knights, although not much. The flame inside the lamp made Eric gulp, the cracks of the small fire made him whimper, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at it any longer. As he lay limply in the slump of cotton bedsheets, he kept one eye open to look at Sebastian who climbed to the top bunk, his footsteps over the small wooden ladder pitter-pattering against Eric's ear. "Good night, Sebastian." he greeted and his white haired friend smiled in return. "Good night to you too, Eric." ------ The knight's keep, in other words known as the donjon, was where the knights slept during the night(or any other time they wanted to). Not only the males, but also the female knights used this tower for resting, as unfitting as it sounds. Unlike other workers who were given separate manors in consideration of their genders, the word 'knights' was a commonly derived name for a set of soldiers who were more of a genderless entity, which would make it obvious that they were treated in the same manner regardless of their gender. And in the kingdom's syllabi, there was no such thing as femininity or masculinity upon knights. The moon was gleaming on top of Eric's hair as light dipped inside the tower through a small embrasure. It was by far, the time of the devil. The silver glitters danced eerily on top of the red curls that covered the knight's forehead as he snuggled to his sheets comfortably. With the sounds of crickets melding in the air, he let out a yawn and hugged his pillow tighter. While Eric tried to sleep soundly in the darkness, he couldn't help but hear the sound of a familiar voice teetering in his ear, sluggishly. The knight turned from side to side, trying to sleep yet his mind which would rather listen to some balderdash that ripped across his peaceful slumber, made it impossible to do so. "Mhhh.." he moaned and squeezed the duvet lain over his bed with his hands, lying on his chest so that his back was pulled up. Notheless, the voice never faltered, only increasing its loudness in response to his apathetic yawns. "Pss, ginger boy. Are you there?" the voice murmured. With a groan and a collision of his fist against the satin sheets, Eric woke up, his green eyes provoked as he glanced at the embrasure that showed him the sight of the nightsky in a wistful agenda. "Prince Charming? Is it you?" the words fell out of his mouth without consciousness as Eric set himself onto his feet before trudging towards the window. He squinted his eyes, trying his best not to trip over the perked out limbs of the knights who were very much asleep, albeit a little messily. Eric skipped his way and kept his palms over the wall, then peeked down from the window. "Charming?" "Henry," Prince Charming corrected with a sigh and blew off a strand of pale blond hair fallen over his temple, "Why do people even call me that?" he muttered to himself and looked up at Eric from where he stood, their eyes meeting in an ludicrous angle. The knight could swear he was a hint of sadness in the other's face, but it was quick to disappear, like a flash of light that went astray. Prince Henry (better known as Prince Charming) was a eighteen year-old royal with an unhealthy addiction to magical quests, riddles from ogres and slaying dragons. He could be often found in the middle of new adventures, yet it was a must that a prince should never go on such voyages alone. So, he needed a knight to join him. Which turned out to be Eric most of the time. As much as his heart hurt at the mere thought of having to hear his prince's bold talk about his soon-to-be-wife for another three to four hours of questing, Eric had no choice but to bow down to his prince's command. It was depressing really. "You need to go back my prince," the ginger knight proclaimed in a harsh whisper and looked behind to make sure none of the sleeping knights were listening, "This is certainly not the time to go on a quest, with all due respect sir." "Justice doesn't need a time to be enlished, ginger." Charming gave a charming smile, "So I would prefer you come down right this instant." 'What a narcissist.' the knight wanted to say, yet once looking at the bright blue eyes of his Prince, he felt those words dissolve in his tongue like bitter medicine. And all he could mutter out was a dreamy, "Your wish is my command, my prince." Charming- no Henry, stared up at the red head from the lower balcony, to where he had climbed up with the help of a ladder. As he watched his knight's frame vanishing from his proximity, he found his lips curving down, gulping in fear of the height he would have to climb down. A bit ironic, you could say