Soil buried underneath his nails. Calluses in his palms. Hands you wouldn't expect to belong to royalty. Small hands you'd reckon belonged to a young slave.
"I should've worn gloves…"
He didn't get the chance to clean them because he was busy hiding his nails from the maids. Other than that, the maids barely cared about them, considering the very sudden news.
The First Princess had called for him.
And so, they immediately dressed him without a thought for his current state.
They put him in clothes that were too big for his small stature—a yellow vest over a white ruffled shirt, with a small green bow between the collar to complete the look. His short pants were a lighter shade of yellow, paired with white knee socks. The toes of the socks had to be folded and tucked underneath his black shoes because they were too big for his small feet. It was uncomfortable, but it would be troublesome if he met the First Princess looking like a beggar.
These clothes had belonged to the second prince, a son of another concubine who had volunteered to take him as her ward ever since he lost his mother. Their relationship was far from warm, yet not particularly bad either, as he rarely saw the mother and son unless a formal dinner was hosted by the empress.
The First Princess who had called for him was the daughter of the empress. Though they shared the same blood and title, their statuses differed greatly. The way people treated them, their lifestyles, and even the way they were dressed.
Just like now…
Among all the emperor's seven children, he was positively the only one who had ever had hand-me-downs.
That was just life as an unfortunate member of the Imperial Family of Dhara.
Dhara, the largest empire of the West Continent, was where our prince was born and raised. His father, Emperor Reginald Augustus von Fermielis, the "Sun" of Dhara, was a man known to be quite unpredictable, both as an emperor and as a person. He was once a decent prince until he wasn't, and he was crowned emperor in typical, but not entirely normal, circumstances.
He had a particular taste in women who possessed certain 'features' that were very visible among the bevy he had. Six women with the same looks, with the Empress, the "Moon" of the empire, added to the list. However, the Empress was the only one who didn't possess the features the emperor favored, and she had no intention of becoming his type either.
Though one might think these were too many women, the number of women he had was quite small compared to the harems of the kings, chiefs, and emperors of the South Continent.
And born from these women were his children, the "Stars" of the empire.
Though he had fathered this many children, not one of them truly saw him as a father, as he had never been one to them. But, of course, as royal children and potential heirs to the throne, their lives were very well provided for by the emperor and they lived quite luxuriously…
Well, except for one.
The young prince had found his shoes uncomfortable for a while. The folded socks hidden underneath had never felt more annoying. Walking up the red-carpeted stairs to the First Princess's room was unbearable.
But comfort didn't matter at this point. He was about to meet a person of higher status.
As he walked through the halls, his hands remained focused on cleaning the soil from his fingertips.
The velvet walls of the palace were adorned with paintings of their ancestors and treasures from all around the world. Then there was a very large mirror, placed right in front of the door to the princess's chambers.
Their stop.
The prince glanced at his reflection—his pale skin, thin stature, long silver-white hair that had been hastily combed earlier, and another part of his face that he loathed the most: his emerald-green eyes. He couldn't help but notice that the clothes he was wearing were obviously too large.
"She won't notice… Right?" he wondered.
"Prince Cleus Dominique von Fermielis, Your Highness," the maid beside him announced.
"Let him in," a voice spoke from behind the large mahogany double doors.
The prince entered with his head down, his hands clenched as he attempted to hide their poor state. The maid beside him slowly withdrew and shut the door behind him.
"I-I greet the second star of Dhara, the F-First Princess of the e-empire," he spoke, slightly lowering his entire upper body.
Cleus shyly lifted his eyes and saw his sister coming toward him.
The rim of her silky orange skirt glided across the marble floor. Her delicate hands rested over the white-laced cuffs of her sleeves. Her long brown curls covered half of her top, which was adorned with citrine gemstones.
A gown befitting an imperial princess.
Now standing in front of him, she placed her right hand against his cheek as though it were delicate glass.
"Be at ease, brother. There is no one else in this room. Must you speak to me so coldly?" the princess asked warmly as she stood from her couch. "Hm? Must you, Cleus?"
The First Princess of Dhara, the second star of the empire, and the firstborn of the Emperor and Empress—Princess Amelia Monique von Fermielis.
Someone who bore the same eyes as him.
Though being the firstborn, she was not regarded as the first star of the empire for one simple reason.
She was a daughter.
Excellent in academics and mannerisms, and extremely talented—the first prince couldn't even be considered a rival. But despite all that, her right to the throne was nowhere in sight.
All because she was born female.
"Had she been born male, would she still be so kind to me like now?"
Despite being years apart and having different mothers, they were close and held each other dear. She was kind to him despite him being called the cursed member of the Imperial Family. She had every reason to act spoiled and unkind.
But she wasn't.
The princess was a kind soul and a good sister.
"You got thinner," she uttered, her eyebrows almost meeting.
She wanted to scold the maids of the Black Palace. However, the people to be blamed were not present, so she had no choice but to gather her anger into a clenched fist hidden behind the flap of her skirt, her nails digging slightly into her skin.
Prolonging her anger was futile, or so she thought. With her beloved brother, whom she rarely saw, standing before her, she decided to bottle up her feelings once again and forced a smile onto her face.
"I have sweets made for us. Come, sit with me," she said, transferring the hand that had been on his cheek to the boy's wrist and gently pulling him along as they approached the white floral-patterned couch.
The red carpet beneath his feet was warm, and the urge to remove his uncomfortable shoes right that second became stronger. With every step he took, he dragged his feet to make sure the shoes would not come off and expose the embarrassing situation his socks were hiding.
Holding back his desire to remove them, the child sat in such a timid manner—like a mouse in a lion's den.
The princess usually invited Cleus to her palace at least twice a month and visited his place every two months. As much as she wanted to add more days to her visits, her schedule was piled up like the emperor's. Seeing her youngest brother act like this around her, she couldn't help but think that the boy was still very shy and wary of her actions.
However, Cleus knew that she meant well. Behind her actions were no ill intentions, but rather a yearning for a sibling bond. The reason for her kindness was unknown, but he was smart enough to detect whether the princess merely wanted to entertain herself with him.
But in her case, it was not like that at all.
She was, among all the brothers and sisters he had, the only one who truly cared for him. Though known to be quite serious, calm, and sometimes passive, she was kind to him and never faltered in smiling at him.
"You need not ration the cookies I brought," she chuckled, seeing him bite into the cookies in such small bites.
And she was right; he didn't have to do that at all. But it had become a habit that was hard to shake off.
After being poisoned almost every day of his life, it was best not to rush into eating.
The yellow cookies covered in sugar were placed on fine eastern-glass plates, making it difficult to see whether they had been poisoned. So were the shortcakes and macaroons. The chocolate cookies were placed on a silver platter, and there had been no visible reaction so far.
However, he had never found himself fond of chocolate.
'What am I thinking? Eldest sister brought such expensive desserts in one place just for me. How could I think they were poisoned…'
The princess relaxed after watching her brother eat. She then reached toward her teacup, taking the spoon that had been resting beside it to stir her drink.
"I should help myself to this feast. This tea smells really good," she said, lifting the brim of the cup toward her lips.
Cleus glanced at the table, his eyes widening. His gaze quickly shifted toward his sister as he threw his hands toward the teacup she was about to drink from.
The hot tea spilled over the princess's hands, and the sound of glass shattering echoed through the room.
"Ah! Cleus! What's wrong?" the princess exclaimed, her face filled with worry as she soothed her burned hand.
The boy eyed the cup, then reached for a silver spoon. He stirred the tea once, twice, and waited.
When he lifted it, the gleam had dulled to gray.
The room fell silent.
Poison.
The silence quickly dissipated as the maids' footsteps came rushing toward them. They opened the door and witnessed the princess on the floor with a burned hand, the young prince standing with an enraged look on his face, his hand holding a dripping spoon.
The princess's lady-in-waiting rushed to her and shoved the young prince aside.
"Your Highness! Are you hurt?" she panicked.
However, her panic quickly came to a stop when the princess suddenly slapped the woman across the cheek.
"Your Highness?!" she faltered, her palm against her swelling cheek.
"Apologize… to Prince Cleus. How dare you bump into Imperial blood and act like you've done nothing wrong?" Amelia exclaimed, rejecting the woman's hand as she stood up and walked toward her younger brother.
"Apologize."
.
.
.
[The Red Palace, year 285]