Chapter Two- Applause echoed throughout the tent.
Marxis was waiting in the wings for his charge. He was lanky and fair, almost the exact opposite of the prince in appearance. He was older by a few years, so he was naturally taller with a more defined face. The King had mentioned that Markis was growing into the kind of face that women admire. While it was one that the prince envied, it was not for the attention Markis got. No, not at all. It was the astonishing fact that no ladies would pinch his cheeks, but they would gladly abuse those belonging to their prince. It was a dreadful experience that Markis was unwittingly exempt from. In retrospect, Markis was oblivious to many things.
However, he did not miss the fact that the prince was absolutely exhausted. Markis knew the prince had drained almost his entire reserve of energy doing that incredibly reckless, idiotic, breathtaking barrel spin. Nonetheless, the prince thought to himself, it had all been worth it.
The simple exhilaration of being in the air, defying gravity for even just a few seconds was reward enough. It was as close as man could be to flying. It was a feeling frozen in time, he felt that, in that single move, he was being lifted by the gods himself, being taken away from the earth below. It was reward enough. How could any man say it wasn't?
By the way his knees were wobbling, the prince knew that his flight was an advanced magic. Marxis's lessons were paying off, then. In fact, the prince had been so absorbed in the idea of having escaped gravity that he had only just noticed that Markis had been waiting for him.
Upon seeing his highness, Markis dealt him a swift smack on the back of his head, "Really? Displaying your gift as if this were a common freakshow or some childish magic trick? What if one of the diplomats caught on? You already know what would happen! They think magic is dead!"
"Oh, come off it Marxis," the young prince responded. "It's not like these ingrates would ever question my father, or, much less, actually be smart enough to figure out that I had used a bit of magic," he smirked.
Marxis scoffed, "Please, a bit of magic? Admit it, you're absolutely drained, I can see it in your face, idiot. Suspending yourself in mid-air is no small feat, but of course, your wise Highness already knew this."
The prince gave him a childish smirk, then giggling and ignoring his tiredness, he took off into the night, relishing the breeze. He called out to Marxis, "Come! Father will meet the diplomats soon. I want to enjoy my time out before I have to entertain the idiots for another night!"
He smiled brilliantly, tilting his head to one side and extended his right arm to the prince. “Very well,” he chuckled.
Although he was a complete, royal pain, Markis thoroughly enjoyed the prince’s company. He was so bright and soothing. His very aura was earthy and natural, and although he was as volatile as a tropical storm, he had the capability to also be as calming as a summer breeze. When Markis thought of him in this way, he felt the prince’s warmth, reminding him of the mossy-brown earth of home.