Fantasy Noble Secrets [ Phoenix and Yours Truly ]

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn frowned slightly. “I mean, yeah, I could ask for a specific pie, but what do you think that means for the kitchen? They have to start making something new from scratch…” He couldn’t help a shudder at the memory of a particularly snobby visiting nobleman, who had demanded a cherry and blackberry pie, despite the kitchen having only made blueberry pie that day. The staff had erupted into chaos to meet his demands as the noble grew increasingly angry that the pie was not ready within mere minutes.

“Anyway, thanks, but I’ll just take what the kitchen already has made up. I usually only get to eat bread, anyway. Anything else is… sort of a treat,” he confessed shyly.

 

[Yours Truly]

For the third time today, or maybe more, he wasn't really keeping count if he were being honest, Ezrin realized he did not know as much as he thought he did. In fact he knew way less than his father had him believe. He personally never really cared about what he ate, as long as he ate something at some point in the day, so he'd never asked for anything he wasn't given. But now knowing that they'd have to make an entirely new pie on top of everything else they were already planning to make made him feel better than he'd never asked for anything different besides maybe fruit or tea.

It was too bad that others weren't like him. "I didn't know that..." Ezrin mumbled, "But alright." Then he shrugged and asked, "But if you were able to choose, what would you have decided on?" Ezrin found himself oddly curious about this dark-haired man for some reason, and couldn't help asking the dumbest of questions.

 

[PhoenixMire]

“If I were able to choose?” Cyn blinked. “Apple pie.” He loved apples, and Maria’s apple pie filling in particular was amazing. He’d tasted it a few times through his time working in the castle, but not often - it wasn’t for the servants, after all. The dark-haired man shrugged. “But I’m not picky, honestly.”

A knock came at the door then. “You called, your majesty?” said a feminine voice from the other side of the wood.

Maya’s voice. Cyn ducked behind a privacy screen and smiled awkwardly. “Uhh, just don’t let her see me.”

 

[Yours Truly]

He wasn’t entirely surpised that Cynric ducked behind the privacy screen. With the way he’d been talking about his own duties, Ezrin assumed whoever saw him would probably be jealous of his time off and tell someone they shouldn’t.

So he went along with it without a second to spare. He nodded his head at the hiding man and walked out to where the servant was lingering.

“Yes.” He stated, walking out to the small receiving room he barely ever used. Then he shut the door behind himself, not wanting the woman to see any inch of his room.

Especially the painting. Servants talked, and he wasn’t about to let it out that he was painting again. Not that he’d stopped. “You can leave it in here.” Ezrin was careful to sound sure and unworried, not even allowing himself to glance at the door like he wanted to.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn could hear Maya’s voice telling the prince to call for anything else should he need it. Then her footsteps retreated, and Cyn breathed a long sigh of relief. He knew Maya wouldn’t have seen him. Not unless she came too far into Prince Ezrin’s chambers. But the young man still couldn’t help feeling nervous - the thought of Maya seeing him and reporting him to one of the head servants… it would be bad, to put it mildly.

Why was he even here? Suddenly the weight of his actions came crashing down on him, and his heart raced. He was going to be in deep trouble for avoiding his duties, but would it really help if he rushed back to them now? Would he still be punished? Might as well take the rest of the day to relax, then - it didn’t matter if he was going to get in trouble either way. Besides, he worked hard every day of his life. He did favors for other servants. Certainly they could forgive him taking a single day off.

After he was sure Maya had gone, Cyn came out from hiding, smelling a wonderful aroma of seasoned meat and fruit pie. “Well? What’s today’s meal?” the servant asked in excitement.

 

[Yours Truly]

As Cynric came into the room he’d just been looking at all the food, not feeling as hungry as he had when they’d been in the forest. Now that he was within these walls he felt suffocated and unwilling to eat a thing. There was a slice of pie that he frowned at, and some kind of meat with a decent looking sauce on top, with some sort of vegetable. He opted for pouring the tea that he was happy they’d included.

As he did, Ezrin said, “Chicken, I believe, and whatever—“ he grimaced, glaring at the vegetable, “that is.” The entire tray of food was set on a small round table with only two chairs. He sat down at one and shoved the tray closer to Cynric, not bothering to even pick at the food.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn's eyes lit up at the spread of food. Gods, he was never allowed to eat this fancy! The other servants would be burning with jealousy if they saw him now. He'd just try to keep this a little secret. He grinned. "Ah, brussels sprouts, it looks like! Trust me, Maria has the cooks prepare these just right." He took a large helping of chicken, sprouts, and a slice of pie, finding a fancy seat to eagerly dig in. Immediately Cyn was in bliss. The chicken was tender and perfect, the brussels sprouts seasoned just right, and the pie was sweet and tart all at once. "You eat like this every day? Gods," he muttered, savoring every moment of the meal.

It took him a moment to notice that Prince Ezrin was only sipping tea. The servant furrowed his brows. What was wrong with the meal? Not good enough for him? Cyn sighed, trying to ignore the thought and continuing to enjoy the chicken. He kept vacillating, thinking this young royal was better than any others he'd met, or that he was a spoiled rich brat. The last part was quickly becoming blatantly untrue, however. Prince Ezrin was kind. Even if he was a little persnickety in some areas, it seemed.

 

[Yours Truly]

The food did look good, he had to admit almost reluctantly to himself. Yet for some reason it wasn’t good enough for him to take a bite. Instead of looking at the food that wasn’t tempting, he looked at Cynric as he enjoyed it. It was easier to watch someone enjoy food, rather than pick at it before walking away. Just to search for something to eat later.

He’d set the teacup down and was turning the small saucer with an absent mind as he replied, “No I don’t eat like this everyday.” It was an admission that had his eyes returning to the food, one that was more literal than anything.

“What do you all eat?” His reaction to the food he was served had Ezrin wondering.

 

[PhoenixMire]

"You don't?" Cyn asked curiously. He supposed all the food the kitchens made went to feeding the highest-ranking servants, but he would have expected the prince to be eating it as well. He tilted his head a little at the prince's question. "Well, uh... we eat a lot of bread. Some vegetable and grain pottage. If we're lucky, we get leftover meat... but most of that goes to people like the steward and the seneschal and the chaplain, and... you get the idea." Cyn shrugged. "I've tried sneaking some of the food I help make. Sometimes I get hit. Sometimes I get away with it," he said with a grin.

Despite trying to savor the food, it seemed like it was over far too soon. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, content and full. "So? What do you do in a day, your majesty?"

 

[Yours Truly]

”Yeah, I don’t.” He muttered, staring into the teacup resting idly in front of him. Ezrin would expand on his reasons, but didn’t feel like it today. Or any other day for that matter. Hunger just didn’t come as easily as it once did, not as often. But he did like bread, which he nearly never ate because they never sent it up here. All that was sent up here was meat and properly seasoned vegetables. Neither of which he wanted.

His eyes narrowed at the mention of being hit. It was an action he found to be unnecessary, and not at all useful for anything but inspiring anger. As a Prince he’d not been touched in that kind of way, and was disgusted at the realization that others were treated that way. “Does that happen… um… often?” He asked almost uncomfortably, kind of avoiding the question of what he did all day.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn eyed the prince curiously, but did not press the matter. Instead he shrugged at the young royal’s question. “It depends. You get hit if you sneak food or if you don’t do your work well enough or quick enough. Flogged for stealing, or thrown in the dungeons depending on how bad the crime is. Apparently you can get executed too. I haven’t seen that one happen yet - but that one servant, uhh…” Cyn trailed off, eyes staring idly at the ceiling in thought as he tapped his chin. “Oh! Yeah, Hubert. Many years ago he got caught stealing expensive prayer beads from the chaplain. Flogged and thrown in the dungeons.”

Cyn frowned, going quiet for a moment. He rested his chin on his fist. “I kept asking what happened to Hubert. If he’d ever be allowed out of there, or if I could visit him. I always just got ‘no’ as answer. It’s been so long, I… I just stopped asking.” He muttered the next part under his breath - “Can’t believe I allowed myself to forget that.”

 

[Yours Truly]

“Who decides the punishment?” Ezrin absolutely loathed the idea of someone sadistic in power, lording over who got which punishment based off of the crime, which in reality to how the staff was being paid, wasn’t entirely a crime to be begin with. What was really a crime was the pay rate for the servants, or lack thereof. Obviously no one else would agree with him, but he didn’t care. No one ever agreed with him on anything these days and he was done trying to make them.

Ezrin was blissfully ignorant up until now, but determined to no longer be that way. Being informed was a living need within him that could only be satisfied by information.

He just hoped Cynric would be honest, every other time it seemed he avoided the true answer. But he couldn’t blame him, his habits were similar. Ezrin would be lucky if he got a full name or even their title, he wouldn’t be surprised if Cyn avoided his question altogether.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn furrowed his brow. How could the prince really not know any of this? “Uh, I mean… Usually the head servants. But I guess the punishments are mostly just traditions. Servants have been treated this way as long as anyone can remember.”

He cocked his head a little, eyeing the prince curiously. “You really don’t know about any of this? I… kind of just assumed you would have,” he admitted. It was strange to him that so much was happening in the castle without Prince Ezrin noticing. What else was he unaware of?

 

[Yours Truly]

“No I haven’t anything about these things.” He stated quietly, and to give himself time to think of what else was appropriate to say, Ezrin covered his silence with pouring himself more tea and drinking enough to empty to small cup. Why the cups didn’t hold enough tea was a mystery to him.

“I don’t know everything that goes on in this place… or like… anywhere to be honest. I thought I would have known something like that but…” he shrugged. “Here I am.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.” Why was he still talking? “I should be more aware of the things happening.”

 

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn cocked his head a little, watching the prince curiously as he apologized. What a strange royal. He had never met any nobleman like Prince Ezrin. He wanted to say something like, If you’re truly sorry, then make things better for us - but he was afraid that would be going a little too far. So he kept quiet.

A bit of a silence stretched between them then, broken only when Cyn sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “You know what? It’s fine. Let’s - not talk about it anymore.”

 

[Yours Truly]

Ezrin didn’t know what to talk about. He was awful at these kinds of things when he didn’t know what the other expected from him.

He’d only really met him yesterday and so he did not know him as well as everyone else he was able to pretend around. Maybe he should just go back to that. Yet it was too hard since he’d already begun this mostly with honesty.

Maybe he should just try and change the subject instead, “Would you like to come and paint… again sometime?”

 

[PhoenixMire]

Cyn smiled faintly. “You know what? Yeah, I would like to.” He couldn’t believe this was happening - the prince, wanting to befriend him? Life was definitely strange at times. The servant nervously shifted his weight in his seat. “I uh, should leave now though. I’ve been avoiding my duties long enough. But it’s - actually been fun.”

With that, Cyn stood, and made his way to the door. “I suppose I’ll see you later."

---

He struggled to sleep that night. The young servant hadn't done a lick of work the previous day, instead spending almost the entire day with Prince Ezrin, then using his remaining time before bed to visit his mother - something he hadn't been able to do in quite a long time. What would the head servants' reactions be to Cyn's laziness? Surely not good. But he had been a valuable worker for years now, and surely if he explained he was at the prince's side all day, they would be merciful. Right?

Cyn tossed and turned almost all through the night. He only managed to sleep a little bit before the crack of dawn awoke him. With tired arms he pushed himself upright, watching with bleary eyes as the other servants in the crowded quarters also got out of bed. Cyn covered a yawn with the back of his hand and got up to get dressed and head to work.

Immediately upon entering the stables he noticed a thick tenseness hanging in the air. Greg gave him a nervous look, glanced behind Cyn's shoulder, then averted his eyes. Cyn noticed a shadow looming over his own. Swallowing nervously, he turned around to see the head of the stables, an older man with greying brown hair, leathery skin, and dark eyes as hard and cold as stone.

"Where were you yesterday? You shirked all your duties," the man demanded, voice low.

"I - I -" Cyn stammered, heart thumping wildly in his chest. Gods, he was in so much trouble. "The, p-prince... I was with, the prince, sir. He requested it. Me. I mean, uh, for me to accompany him."

The stablemaster cocked a brow. "Yes, very likely." His tone dripped with sarcasm.

Greg nervously cleared his throat. "It's... true, sir."

"Hmmm." The stablemaster folded his arms across his broad chest and looked quickly to Greg. "I see what you're trying to do, boy. I really do. Covering for a friend may seem a noble thing in the moment, but I assure you, it is not. In the end, allowing slacking and laziness only hurts the castle as a whole." He returned his eyes to the dark-haired servant. "Cedric, isn't it?"

"C-Cynric."

"Your absence only hurt your friend here. There was oh so much work to do, and you left him with it all. Don't you think that deserves a little discipline?" The stablemaster paused, eyes narrowing. "Come with me. We'll figure out just what to do with you."

 

[Yours Truly]

The rest of his night went by without as much as a wink of sleep. Long before realizing he could not sleep, Ezrin had lain down to at least attempt to sleep. But even the copious amounts of camomile tea did nothing to help his situation.

So he’d made circles in his rooms. Pacing slowly in the finely decorated spaces. His mind was still caught on the conversation he’d had with Cynric earlier. He had never been spoken to that way before. Not that he really cared about that aspect of the conversation, his mind was truly stuck on the fact Cynric had been honest with him. For the most part, at least. He wasn’t sure if there was more he’d wanted to say.

Others always seemed to hold their tongue when around him, as if they didn’t want to give him the entire truth, which was frustrating.

The painting Cyn had attempted was sitting exactly where it had been before. Maybe he should move it? No. He didn’t feel up to painting, or anything really. So he watched the moon rise, and had at some point stopped thinking and just existed until the room lightened once more. He knew he would regret this later, but found himself not entirely caring.

But since the sun was up, he decided that maybe he just needed fresh air and time alone to wake himself up. The halls were quiet and empty for the most part as he slipped out into the gardens. It was growing warm out, the sun was barely in the sky.

Maybe if he were lucky, his plants would survive another day.