“You need to quench that before it gets brittle,” a gruff voice ordered from a few paces behind.

  He quickly moved the red glowing metal off of the anvil and plunged it into the tub of water, the sharp sizzling noise of evaporation piercing their ears. Even in the midst of winter, he was drenched in sweat. The forge had an uncanny way of holding in the heat it produced. At least it was better than freezing to death.

  “Percy. Pull it out.”

  He blinked distractedly and removed the blade, placing it back on the anvil. “Sorry, Pa.”

  “You’ve been like this all week. Something goin’ on? You not feelin’ well?” his father interrogated gently as he approached his side.

  The two were the spitting image of each other, only differenced in age. His father resembled more of a boulder than a man. Standing much taller than average and sporting the dense muscles of both former soldier and veteran blacksmith, he made practically any man either jealous or uncomfortable in his presence. His hair was the same as Percy’s, dark brown, almost black and thick with curls, but now it sported grey streaks. His neatly trimmed beard was the color of salt and pepper, and his eyes were a dark stone grey. Percy had gotten his from his mother.

  “I’m fine I’ve just… been a bit tired lately is all,” he tossed out the excuse without much vindication.

  His father narrowed his eyes. “You think maybe you should drop your work at the tavern? All that is a bit much to handle, even for a strong young lad like yourself. I wish I could go back to when I had as much energy.”

  A chord of panic struck in his chest. “N-no, it’s not that. I don’t mean physically tired, I suppose. I mean–”

  “What other tired can you be, boy?” his father laughed, confused.

  “Have you ever felt exhausted? Not physically but… have you ever felt like you couldn’t stand to be around people for a moment longer? Like your nerves are so frayed they feel on fire?”

  “I guess my brain has just been a bit fried lately. I might need a couple days to reset,” he murmured cautiously.

  “Are you asking for time off? Percy, the war is ramping up. Who else is supposed to help me fill these huge orders?” he pointed out frustratedly.

  “There are plenty of other apprentices in town, Pa. I’m always here, I’m always doing my job… just a couple days. Please.”

  There was a pause from the older man as he crossed his arms with a heavy sigh. He looked Percy up and down with a scrutinizing eye, as if he knew something he didn’t.

  “There isn’t a lass, is there?” he asked out of the blue.

  That caught him completely off guard. He was about to say no, but the dots quickly connected in his head. This was his chance to buy himself some more time.

  “Uh… yes, there is actually. It’s nothing serious yet but… we’ve been spending some time together. At the tavern while I work,” he half-lied.

  He watched his father’s expression soften. “Son, you coulda just told me that. Look, if you want a few days off to spend with your lady friend that’s fine. I know I’ve been harping on ya about finding someone anyway, and I’d be a hypocrite not to allow you this. I’ll give ya tomorrow and the next off.”

  “Thanks, Pa–”

  “Just please don’t go gettin’ into trouble, yeah? I don’t need to be a grandfather quite yet–”

  “Father,” he exclaimed embarrassedly, eyes wide in disbelief at the suggestion. “I’ll behave. I promise,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

  A strong hand came down on his shoulder and gave him a little shake. “Alright. I’ll let you finish up early today, so you can—”

  “E-excuse me?”

  They both turned to receive their potential customer, but what Percy laid eyes upon flushed his skin even more ruddy on top of the heat. There he was, just standing at the entrance to their forge. His ashen hair was dappled with snowflakes, his skin only a few shades darker than the thin blanket of white on the ground. His blue eyes seemed a tad more grey in the cold light outside as opposed to the warm firelight of the tavern. He deigned to say he looked somewhat ethereal, like some sort of angel.

  “Hello there, my boy. What can we help you with?” his father spoke up casually, clueless.

  “I actually came to see Percy. You’re his father, I presume?” He caught Aryn’s eyes scan over the two perceptively.

  “Oh. That I am. And you are?” there was a tone of confused curiosity now in the older man’s voice as he glanced over at his son.

  “I’m Aryn. Aryn Stewart.”

  Percy watched as realization dawned on his father’s face before he offered a steep bow of his head. “Y-Your Highness, to what do we owe this… unexpected visit? I hope it’s for good reasons.”

  The prince chuckled softly, causing Percy’s chest to flutter. “Yes, all good reasons. I actually met your son last week at the tavern he works at. I very much enjoyed his company and wanted to come visit him again. Is he busy at the moment or would I be able to steal him away for some food and conversation? I would like to discuss your business with him.”

  It was quite humorous seeing him present himself so formally, Percy thought. He remembered meeting this meek boy cowering and stuttering in a corner, a boy who had proved to be witty and feisty and playful. But now as he stood before them his origins were clear: he truly was a prince. Except most princes wouldn’t come seeking the company of a blacksmith’s apprentice.

  His father stumbled over his words for a moment. “Why, of course! No, he was actually just finishing up for the day. If you wouldn’t mind waiting, he can be cleaned up in a few minutes.”

  That was the first time the two made eye contact. As his grey-blue eyes met his, he felt his heart jump. This little prince had consumed his thoughts ever since that night, moments replaying over and over and over again with a haunting question lingering at the end of every one. When he had awoken that morning, just as the sun was beginning to crest over the horizon, he lay on his side drinking him in. He stayed there frozen for who knew how long, longer than he should have, his hand twitching every so often, yearning to touch him, feel him. And that was the last he had seen of him. Naively he had expected Aryn to come back to the tavern the next night. But the more and more he thought about what had happened, the more ridiculous that expectation seemed. There had been no doubt in his mind that he had scared the prince away.

  But here he stood, in his father’s forge, asking for him.

  An imperceivable breath escaped his lips.

  “No, I don’t mind waiting at all,” Aryn finally spoke up with a curt smile.

  He felt his father’s elbow dig into his side. “Go on then. Get yourself presentable.”

  Percy snapped out of his stupor and hurried off towards their house, which sat just on the other side of the smithy. He feverishly stripped himself of his soot-covered clothes and filled a basin with freezing cold water. Bracing himself, he quickly washed his hair, face, and neck before dabbing on a bit of scented oil that he reserved for extremely special occasions. He dressed himself in a nice pair of dark breeches and a burgundy dyed wool sweater before relacing his boots. Before he exited his room, a thought suddenly reentered his mind. He pulled open a drawer in his dresser and removed a small sketchbook, shoving it into his satchel. He snatched a coat from one of the hooks by the door and threw it on as he strode out of the house.

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  By the time he got back, he noticed his father and Aryn engaged in conversation. He just caught wind of the end of it as he approached.

  “--and I would be more than happy to supply our weapons directly to the King if that could be arranged.”

  “Pa,” he butted in gently. “May we be going?”

  A reddish hue spread across the man’s face as he recognized his blatant ambitiousness. One couldn’t blame him for it though. It wasn’t every day the prince showed up unannounced on your doorstep wanting to befriend your son.

  “Of course. You two have fun–” Percy immediately strode towards Aryn. “--and Percy.”

  He turned as soon as he reached the prince’s side. “Yeah?”

  “Mind your manners please. And watch that mouth of yours,” he warned with a paternal tone.

  He had to hold back a laugh. “Of course, Pa. I’ll be back later.”

  “It was lovely to meet you,” Aryn threw over his shoulder as Percy began taking off.

  The two strode down the street rather quickly until they came upon an alleyway, that of which Percy suddenly pulled Aryn into. The prince’s face looked surprised, yet expectant.

  “What are you doing here?” he prompted breathlessly.

  Aryn’s brow furrowed. “I… wanted to see you again. My father was quite upset with me after the other night, so I had to behave for a little while. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you sooner–”

  “No. No, it’s all right. I just… thought you were angry with me or something,” he murmured sheepishly.

  The prince let out a sharp breath as a small smile grew on his lips. “Why would I have been angry with you?”

  He couldn’t answer that question truthfully.

  “Nevermind. You said you wanted to go get some food?” he mentioned, changing the subject.

  Aryn’s smile grew wider, which caused his stomach to flip. “Yes. I thought we could get something to eat and then, well… I have a surprise for you, actually.”

  A shy expression took over the prince’s face as he broke off eye contact. Percy began to notice his little mannerisms whenever he grew nervous. He would look away, rub his arm, press his lips together… He was so goddamn adorable.

  “A surprise? That’s awfully kind of you,” he pointed out with a grin. “Well. Shall we?”

  He gestured back towards the road they had diverted from. Aryn nodded before he began to lead them towards… the inner circle? As they approached the gates, two guards signaled for it to be lifted as they spotted the prince. They started to walk through before one of them put a hand on Percy’s shoulder.

  “Excuse me, who are you?” the question came through pretentiously.

  “He’s with me,” Aryn said over his shoulder, a hint of sternness in his normally soft voice.

  The guard narrowed his eyes at the large young man, having to look up at him just slightly, before reluctantly removing his hand. Percy twitched his eyebrows upwards with a scoff before retaking his place by Aryn’s side.

  “So um… we’re eating here?” he questioned uncertainly.

  “Yeah, there’s this little place on the eastside that has the most amazing soups. Perfect for cold weather. I… don’t really know any places outside here,” he explained as they walked.

  He strode in tandem with Aryn, glancing over at him every once in a while. His cheeks had turned a rosy pink in the cold to match the color of his lips. Ashen blonde hair moved like feathers in the frigid breeze, the ends occasionally getting caught on each other in a temporary tangle. He wanted to run his hands through it.

  Soon enough they came upon a street that seemed to be quite busy. The scene surrounding them overwhelmed him slightly as he took in the obvious difference between these people and his own. Their cloaks were thick and all lined with fur, the men dressed in fine breeches and well-made leather boots, the women donned with dresses bearing gorgeous colors and patterns. Lots of jewelry. And there were no beggars on the street. It was like he had stepped into a different world.

  “The place is just right up here,” Aryn’s words cut through his focus.

  The prince guided him towards a well-lit little establishment with a smoking chimney. As they opened the door, delightful smells wafted towards them almost overpoweringly. The place was extremely cozy inside: a strong fire burning in the fireplace, candles at every table, numerous rugs strewn about on the floor, padded chairs…

  As they entered and found a table to sit at, he couldn’t help but notice some of the looks he was getting. No one’s eyes lingered for too long, but he clearly saw the expressions on their faces. They were judging him. He didn’t belong here.

  Thankfully they offered respect where it was due and took great care in being good hosts for Aryn. The food was indeed spectacular as the prince had promised. He also had some mulled wine to go with it. It was probably the best he’d ever eaten before.

  Throughout the meal, they made casual conversation. Discussing how their week had been, asking about family, work, etc. But underlying it all was this indescribable tension, an air of discomfort or nervousness. Maybe he had scared Aryn. Maybe he was just trying to be polite and return the favor for the room the other night.

  Upon finishing, Aryn rose from his chair with a small smile. “Alright, now onto the surprise. You ready?”

  His chest fluttered. “I suppose I am. Lead the way.”

  With a fresh air of excitement, the prince led them out of the restaurant and towards the west side of the inner circle. The trek was a little long, but it mostly seemed lengthy due to the cold. Eventually they turned onto a street lined with various shops. There were clothing stores, a general store, an apothecary, a jeweler, and a bookstore just to name a few. But they passed by all of those and came to an establishment whose windows were full of easels and paintings and other art supplies.

  He turned towards Aryn abruptly, lips parted slightly. The prince was already smirking uncontrollably.

  “Aryn… this is so thoughtful. They don’t have anything like this outside here,” he pointed out breathlessly.

  “Well, go on then,” the prince urged, motioning towards the door.

  With a sharp sigh and a disbelieving grin, he stepped into the shop. It smelled of paper and paint fumes and freshly polished wood. So much better than smoke and iron and embers. To the right there were all manner of art mediums: canvas, sketchbooks, easels, even chunks of wood and marble for carving and sculpting. To the left was every artistic tool he could think of: different types of paints, dozens of shapes of charcoal, even different colored inks, along with various paintbrushes, quills, and sculpting tools. He didn’t even know where to start.

  He turned back towards Aryn. “I don’t think I can afford anything in here.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” the prince said with a sly smile.

  Percy scoffed disbelievingly. “You mean you’re… paying for it?”

  He nodded and hugged his elbows, another shy mannerism. A smile lit up Percy’s face as he slowly turned towards the artistic mediums.

  He definitely could use a new sketchbook. There were different sizes and even different paper textures. He pulled out his old sketchbook from his satchel to figure out the texture of that paper and picked a similar one from the shelf. The new book had a nice thick leather cover, and the pages were larger. Maybe he could try out landscapes.

  Next he went over to the charcoals. There was a set of all different sizes packed neatly into a little portable case. It was perfect. With a smile, he gingerly picked the case up and put it on top of the new sketchbook before returning to Aryn.

  “I think this is all I want,” he said conclusively.

  With a nod, Aryn walked with him over to the counter where the clerk stood behind.

  “How much for this?”

  The shopkeep examined the items briefly. “Five gold.”

  The prince quickly fished out five gold pieces from his own satchel and placed them on the counter, murmuring a polite thank you before heading out of the store with him.

  “Five gold? Aryn, that's way too much money,” he pointed out guiltily.

  “Percy. It’s all right. I have the money and, quite frankly, you deserve something nice.”

  He froze for a brief moment when Aryn placed a hand on his arm, warmth radiating from his touch. He attempted to protest but instead sighed softly and smiled.

  “You’re a great friend, you know that?” he said gently.

  Aryn’s cheeks slowly flushed that rose pink as a shy smile now spread on his face. “So we’re friends now.”

  “Of course we are.”

  They locked eyes for a moment, that same feeling of tension passing between them briefly before he cleared his throat.

  “So,” Percy prompted. “Where to now?”

  He saw Aryn check where the sun was in the sky, and his face dropped. “Oh God… I forgot my father is having a ball this evening for my brother. I’m supposed to be there–”

  Percy could hear the guilt in his voice and grasped his shoulders. “Hey, it’s all right. I had a really great time. Get to your ball.”

  The prince’s face softened as a quiet sigh escaped his lips. “I’ll see you later?”

  “Counting on it,” he answered with a smile.