The rapid shift that comes with a bastard prince. A young man from a humble village, who enjoyed the dirt beneath his fingers and the sun dusting freckles over his skin. Being whisked away by men in armour one fateful summer day
Suddenly a prince, meeting a father he never knew and feeling a weight he’s never felt burden his shoulders. It’s difficult enough following along with the advisors and tutors trying to teach him about the crop yields and the political alliances, their snarky grins, condescension dripping from each word
But the worst part is how no one has touched him in months
Watching longingly out the window as knights spar down below, hands grabbing waists and patting backs, tousling hair and catching shoulders. That ease of contact. He misses it more than he cares to admit. Misses the casual affection back home, where there were no rules of status or propriety, just people seeking comfort in one another’s embrace
Perhaps that’s why when he’s assigned a personal knight, all he can think of is clawing through the metal exterior and sinking his teeth into the flesh
And unfortunately for the poor knight, the prince has learned little restraint in his time here
