Chapter 2

When Aiden walked into the same lavished room, he didn't know quite what to expect. The prince in a full suit of armor was way out of his zone of options anyway. Unfortunately that's what he got. It was a huge contrast from the day prior. In fact the sun shining off of it, almost blinded him. It was enough to have him squinting to see.

The prince looked angelic in the armor. His irritated expression being the only contrast. This would at least be easier to paint unless he decided on another ridiculous position. Aiden outwardly sighed, gaining Oliver's attention. If Aiden wasn't blinded before, he definitely was now. The armor was polished expertly. It took him another squint to notice the smaller and more delicate details on the plates. The family crest on the chest had much more detail that some paintings. It looked fairly light and flexible as if to let the prince move easily. The whole piece was masterful.

Aiden wasn't really one for armory but through his father having been a blacksmith, he was knowledgeable in the subject. He wanted to touch it, and feel it's expertise first hand. Whom ever made must have been the best in the land. Not surprising at all. Aiden wanted to meet the man who would craft such a masterpiece. Maybe he could get a deal on a sword.

"Your highness." He greeted and bowed. "I have never seen such an incredible set of armor." He straightened himself with a grin, his excitement impossible to contain.

"That is no surprise, you came from a village out west. You've likely never seen a full set of armor in the first place."

"But I have."

"Really?"

"I come from a family of blacksmiths."

"And you're an artist?"

"Art is a passion of mine, but I do know how craft a sword." His eyes flicked to the sword the prince had sheathed. He wanted to see it much more than the armor as a whole. He favored swords over all other things when it came to masonry.

"I see." Oliver slowly closed the space between them. His steps loud with the metal 'clanks' of the armor. He moved fast making Aiden's theory on the arm being made for speed and flexibility true. Oliver quickened his pace, unsheathing his sword in the process. It was a long and thin sword; quite fitting. The prince preferred speed. From the looks of the sword from the distance, it was German made. The hilt gracefully wrapping over the pale hand of the prince. It was an elegantly made sword. He started into a sprint, holding the thin sword behind himself. Aiden really didn't have time to react, not that he really would if he did.

The sharp end stopped a few centimeters away from his throat. He swallowed lightly on his spit. His only reaction. There was no doubt about it, the prince had skill. His stance was perfect and his aim was accurate. Oliver lifted a thin brow at Aiden as if expectant of a reaction.

"Do you even know how to handle a sword?" Oliver asked.

"No sir, the paintbrush is my sword." Aiden joked with a smile forming on his lips. Confusion overcame the prince's expression, his stance starting to waver.

"You didn't flinch when I came at you with my rapier." He moved the sword back and straightened up. "Why is that?"

"One grows accustom to blades near the neck when asking for loans." Aiden added the flare of formal speech to impress. A flick of amusement appeared and disappeared on Oliver's lips. He went back to his usual demeanor before Aiden could comment on it. He sheathed the rapier, the metal scratching against the leather. A small metal ring echoed at the hilt hit the end of the sheath. He looked back up at Aiden with a peculiar expression. It was somewhere between a smirk and forcing it back.

"There's no surprise there." His expression changed again. A serious and professional look. This was business after all. His emerald eyes bore info Aiden as if digging holes in him to figure out his secrets. It was a challenge (at least that's what Aiden wanted to think). Oliver was waiting for him to crack. "Tell me, with complete honesty, what do you think of my father?"

"Are you sure you want complete honesty, your highness?" Aiden raised a brow, leaning back into the door behind him with arms crossed. He was in defensive mode now.

"It's an order." Oliver's tone carried warning. And it was just that. A warning not to cross the line.

Aiden sighed, "His majesty..." He paused, thinking how to work his words into a vague enough thesis as to not offend the son of the very King he was being asked about. "Is quite the king. Ask anyone else and they would give you an answer his majesty would love to hear. I, however, don't agree entirely with his policies since he favors the nobility over the commoners." There was a flash of something in Oliver's eyes. 

"Why did you come here if you don't favor my father?"

"Recognition."

"Not the debts?"

"No, the debts are certainly a reason but my pride must come first."

"Pride?" Metal creaked as Oliver moved to place a hand on his hip in what would be a perfect painting. "There's pride in painting portraits of the same type for people who see you as a slave?"

"You're right, there isn't any pride in it. It's more of a personal goal. That and as a citizen I must serve the royalty that rules over me."

"I see." Oliver moved out of his picture perfect pose and paced towards Aiden. "Come with me." He opened the door next to the man.

"Where?"

"Have patience, young one." Oliver grinned with utter amusement.

"Young one? I'm older than you!" Aiden pushed himself off the door and let his arms drop. He was in a childish stance by accident. His arms and legs spread as if to make him look bigger and intimidating. Instead it only worked to make the prince chuckle. 

"You sure act like a child." Oliver slipped through the door. Aiden followed with a 'tch'. 

~

He was led to the east end of the castle. It was a far older looking area with the stones on the walls looking more jagged and asymmetrical with each passing step. It got darker as they went along. Lit torches lined the wall every few feet. He was through a door and down a set of stairs which led the two to another door. This door had two crossing swords on it. Oliver opened it with out hesitation. The swords hitting the wood with loud thuds. It seemed like a pointless design. 

Aiden followed and found a large hall with beds. Some beds had men sleeping, others had men reading, and few were empty. It became quite clear that this was the knights' quarters. If he couldn't tell by the amount of men here, the scattered pieces of armor and swords leaning on walls and bed secured his theory. 

He wanted to dumbly ask the prince about this area and why they were here. He saw it best not to on the grounds that he didn't want to irritate the man. Oliver seemed much like someone who would easily get annoyed by simple questions. He was an odd prince to say the least. Even stranger were the guards. They didn't even flinch at the sight of Oliver.

Speaking of, Oliver suddenly stopped in front of one of the last beds. It carried a sleeping guard spread out comfortably. Aiden could only stand jealous. It was fairly early in the morning. Normally, he would sleep half the day away and then paint until he was right back to sleeping. It's not that he liked it, it's that he had to live like that. He needed to work until his body ached to sell it and have enough to live.

"Wake up!" Oliver commanded to the guard on the bed. Some others nearby seemed to have stiffened up. Oliver's command did nothing. So, he tried a different approach.

"Michael you better wake up right not or-so- help-me-god-I will take my armored hand and put it to your groin!" This sleeping figure now apparently named Micheal yawned and stretched. Eyes flicked open, revealing dirt brown eyes. Micheal sat up with yet another yawn and a hand brushing through the familiar auburn waves. His eyes flicked to Oliver and then to Aiden.

"I'm guessing you want me to do something with him, right?" Micheal asked nonchalantly.

"I need you to train him."

"Train him?"

"Wait, you want him to train me?!" Aiden near squealed. "What about the painting?"

"Will you do it?" Oliver ignored Aiden's whining and directed Micheal.

"I have no actual choice so yes."

"Good." He gave a satisfied smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go get this thing off of me. I hate being forced into this."

"Try wearing it every day, your highness." He rolled his eyes at Michael's remark, his smile disappearing. He walked off then. Aiden found Micheal digging into him with a glare as soon as the prince was too far to notice. It was a nerve-wracking moment that ended with Micheal groaning and looking away. "God, I hate when he does this."

"He does this often?"

"No, but he always leaves me escorting his guests around even though he's got so many others that can do it."

"Doesn't that just mean you're his best and most trusted guard?"

"I suppose." He frowned again. "I honestly just wish he wouldn't make me do this so early in the morning."

"You and me both." Aiden lightly chuckled. He was slightly relieved that he wasn't the only one feeling that this was a ridiculous time to be awake. Even more so that there wasn't this looming sense of superiority being pushed onto him. This was a royal guard he was talking to. The closest thing he could to a commoner and it very much felt like it.

"So," Micheal jumped up. He towered over Aiden, scaring him for a brief second. "Do you really not know how to handle a sword?"

"I never had any need to."

"What kind of strange village did you come from?"

"One where crime is relatively low."

"Hm." He pleasantly hummed. "Most of the others go on monologues about their tragic history when I asked them about their homes."

"That's a fools path."

"Are you some kind of scholar now?" 

"I'm far from one."

"That's very true." He chuckled. "Come with me, young one." Micheal paced past him.

"I'm not some child!" Aiden whined as he followed.

"You might as well be."

"Just because you're taller than me doesn't mean I'm a child."

"You're right, I am ridiculously tall, but it doesn't stop your tantrum."

"I am not throwing a tantrum!"

"But you're whining like a child."

Aiden groaned, "Fine, you win."

"Of course." They slipped through the door and made their way up the spiral staircase with the echoes of the swords seemingly chasing them.

"So, you always win?"

"Yes, and you better get used to it."

"And if I don't?"

"Then, we're not going to train and his highness will get pissy and send us both home."

"You seem to see him as a child."

Micheal scoffed, "He practically is one."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Tell me that when you spend years with him." He rolled his eyes and made it to the top of the stairs. He stopped there and turned to face Aiden. "I've known him practically his whole life, I know more about him than you ever will."

"You sure are defensive about it." Aiden muttered. "I'm just telling a bit of my perspective."

"Your perspective means nothing."

"Perhaps it does." Micheal raised a thick brow at that. "I'm not clouded with any ideals, Micheal. I tell it how it is. From this conversation, it's easy to see that you're clouded by your own memories to see other perspectives."

"You're a real smartass." He smirked. "No wonder his highness still has you here."

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

Micheal shrugged, "Hell if I know what's on his mind. It could be either or neither."

"That doesn't help me at all." Aiden sighed in defeat.

"If you want relief, just know that there have been others that have been invited here. Only three of those others have gotten as far you have." Micheal looked quite nice with the smile that was forming on his lips. It was fitting. "So, feel special, alright?"

The smile was oddly contagious. Aiden nodded in response. Micheal turned back around and they continue on their way. It only dawned on Aiden right then he didn't quite know where their destination actually was.