A prince who is not the eldest or even the spare, just a youngest son who is left mostly to his own devices. He can basically go where he likes and doesn’t stay in the castle, preferring to wander near the barracks where the knights live.
He likes to watch them at their drills, sitting on the grass with a book and a glass of wine like he is at the opera. He doesn’t know how to fight but he likes to watch the bouts.
One day, a newer knight is brought low by the older knight instructing him, blood pouring out of his nose. The prince watches with fascination to see the older man pull him back up and have him turn his face up to stem the flow.
“There’s a lad,” he says with a surprising softness. “You won’t forget to block next time.”
“N-no sir,” the young man says, eyes wide, and stumbles out of the practice area.
The prince nearly forgets it, until he is wandering the gardens behind the barracks and finds the older knight with the young man bent over under him, thick cock dripping against his exposed ass. He gasps before he can stop himself, and they both look up, meeting his gaze.
"There you have it," the older knight says, grabbing the young man's hips. "At the very least you can give your prince a show."
