It was a beautiful morning when he eagerly woke up. The birds happily sang, the warm sunlight peeking through the tall drapes of his room, and he couldn't have been any more excited.
Because today was the young duke's birthday. After a long winter, the young duke has been waiting patiently and quietly. He had never told his father of his wishes nor his desires. He gave upon himself that his father shall surprise him with the best of presents.
One truly fit for the best of boys like him.
The young duke hopped off his bed and ran towards his bathroom. He combed his hair, he brushed his teeth, yet he couldn't stop smiling. Even if it was difficult choosing his outfit, he did not care. Because today was the young duke's birthday.
He rushed through his chambers and into the bright royal halls where his maids personally greeted him. His lazy-worn shoes tapped on the clear and rich floors, showing a reflection of his cheerful face.
"Today is my birthday!" he exclaimed. "It's my birthday! My birthday is today!"
The maids, lined upon the hall, smiled in response. They tried to slow him down and wipe the foam from his mouth but to no avail. The young duke wanted to see his gift immediately.
"Woah, woah!" someone bumped in front of him. "Not so fast, young master."
"Mister Van!" the young duke jumped around with joy. "Do you know what today is?"
"I don't think I've forgotten, young master. I believe none of us has."
"Is my father done preparing my present?"
"Present?" Van let out a small laugh. "We haven't yet prepared your breakfast. Nothing of your schedule has changed, young master, there is another event you must attend."
"But…my present?"
"It can wait. It will always be waiting for you."
"Promise." the young duke frowned. "Last year you said the same thing."
"I promise, young master, your present will be given to you once we are all done. You must trust me, your father hasn't forgotten."
The young duke averted his eyes.
Van gestured his hand. "Take care of the boy, he looks awful."
The maids pulled the young duke back into his room. He glanced back at Van, steadily smiling through his usual black suit. The young duke couldn't tell if he was lying. He had lied last year on his birthday and the year before that. It made the young duke sad about himself. If it was about the way he walked, the way he looked, or maybe the way he talked? The young duke always tries to be on his best behavior but his father pays no mind.
The young duke raised his arms as the maids redressed his clothes. Today was also a special day for this father and it just happened to align with his birthday. The young duke feels like his father cares more about his image to the public than rather his son.
The young duke pulled away. "I don't want to wear that."
"My duke, you must," the maid persisted, her voice growing with irritation. "Everything you do will represent the attitude of his kingdom."
"But I don't wanna wear it."
The maid pulled his arm back. "Whether you like it or not, it is tradition. Do you even understand the position you're in? You are the duke, so please, act appropriately."
The young duke pouted his face into the mirror. He thought his new clothes looked ridiculous, too tight and layered whenever he moved around. They tucked his shirt and boots, finally fitting the clothes on his body. The young duke tried picking at his collar as they smacked his hand away.
"Make your way into the dining hall," the other maid said. "You're going to have to stand around, so eat your fill."
The young duke walked outside his room, finally escaping that grueling fitting session. The servants and maids bowed their heads while he walked by. The young duke didn't expect any of them to hand him a present by surprise. He just wanted something other than leftover money from the treasury. At least a present that could mean something to him.
"My duke." a guard bowed his head as the young duke entered the dining hall. He walked behind before pulling the young duke to his seat.
The table was filled with every food imaginable. The thick cuts of succulent meat, servings of unappetizing vegetables, assortment of fruits picked fresh from the garden, and the sweetest pastries from the city. It was already obvious what the young duke would indulge in first.
"That's quite an appetite," the guard said. "You should slow down. I hear that sugar is awful in the mornings. Your stomach would be upset."
He shook his head. "The maid said I could eat whatever I like."
The guard laughed. "Very well."
The young duke handed him a cake with his hands, slathered and messy with frosting.
The guard smiled in response. "You are too generous, my duke."
He frowned. Even if the guard had looked scary on the outside, they were always so nice to him. The guards were clad in dark armor and bore a heavy broadsword, sometimes with a shield. They were the most menacing knights the young duke had ever seen but had the kindest of hearts. He would remember swinging on their arms as they were practically twice his height.
Then footsteps were heard down the hall. The door opened as the maids bowed their heads in advance. A man with black garments and a fluttering dark cape that flowed with his every step. His slicked gray hair and trimmed beard defined more just than his stern face. Flanked beside him were three guards and one courtier. This man was old but he stood intimidating even among the guards around him. This man was the young duke's father.
The king opened his arms. "My boy!"
"Father!" he hopped off his seat and hugged the king. "Do you know what today is?"
"Other than this tiresome event," the king wiped the boy's face. "How could I ever forget?"
"Then my present," he jumped around. "Have you prepared my present?"
"Present—ah, yes of course." the king snapped his fingers. "Bring the boy his present."
The courtier looked with confusion. "My lord?"
"Just bring him that sword."
"My lord, are you sure?" the courtier said quietly. "That sword is—"
"Bring it here."
The courtier quickly bowed as a guard accompanied him away.
The young duke couldn't contain his excitement. "You brought me a sword!"
"Yes, I have," the king patted his head. "A special sword just for you."
The guard behind him turned apprehensive, as if they knew what type of weapon he was talking about. But the young duke didn't care. It's been so long that he was given a present that was other than just gold coins. And it just happened to be a sword when he was the most anticipated for.
A few minutes later the courtier returned carrying a long case with special locks as if they were trying to keep whatever was inside completely contained. He cleared the table and placed the case gently upon the surface. The clicks from the locks undoing made the young duke even jump for excitement.
When the case had opened, he thought all there was to see was darkness. But that was the blade itself. It wasn't a sword, rather a bladed rapier that narrowed to the tip of the blade. The handle was elegantly forged like black vines wrapping around the cross guard. The young duke wasn't sure but he felt like there was some sort of aura that emanated from the weapon, calling his name to touch it. The young duke felt as if he was having a conversation with the sword, even if it was able to speak to him.
The young duke reached for the handle.
"Stop!" a guard intervened, grabbing his hand. "Don't touch it!"