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Fairytales always make It seem like being born a prince was the best fate one could have: beautiful and grand parties organized for your every whim, loads of free time to wander the royal gardens, an army of servants ready to fufill anything you might ask of them, and a future already guaranteed to be bright.
Felix Arc Riddil's life was anything but.
For as long as he could remember, he knew his life's purpose was to be a puppet, a tool at his grandfather's disposal, only good to strenghten the Duke's already strong grip on the kingdom's politics.
So It wasn't a surprise that, the day before he went off to study at the Academy, he was presented with a letter full of orders to follow and expectations to live up to.
And that was how his first year of school begun, his possibilities to freely meddle with others his age shut down before the could even bloom. All that he had to do was study, keep up his perfect image, and smile.
He just had to smile.
G̶o̶d̶,̶ ̶I̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶n̶f̶u̶l̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶m̶i̶l̶e̶.̶
After all, he was Felix Arc Riddil, second prince of the Kingdom of Riddil.
He could be nothing less than perfect. Any crack in his facáde, even the smallest gap of his true self, was a gaping wound his opponents could use to their advantage.
So he just had to keep smiling, smiling, smiling.
W̶h̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶k̶e̶e̶p̶ ̶s̶m̶i̶l̶i̶n̶g̶?̶ ̶W̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶?̶
W̶h̶y̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶e̶?̶
P̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶,̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶I̶s̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶ ̶G̶o̶d̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶,̶ ̶s̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶g̶e̶l̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶f̶r̶e̶e̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶n̶.̶
His life was monotonous. Every day was the same, every moment adhering to his grandfather's script on how it should be.
A perfect cycle of waking up, attending classes, socializing, and keeping up his persona.
Until a boy with blue eyes and cold hands broke It.
It wasn't anything big or spectacular, no grabbing the prince's hand and running away with him into their happily ever after.
No, he just tapped his shoulder after class and asked him for help with their homework.
Honestly, the Prince didn't care, but what other choice did he have if not to smile and agree to help this guy whose name he couldn't even bother to remember?
That's how It started.
A routine, at first, of simply heading to the library togheder once or twice a week to study or do their homework.
But, slowly, something shifted:
Maybe It happened on that night, the day before and exams, when Felix heard a knock on his door, opening It to reveal none other than his f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ c̶o̶m̶p̶a̶n̶i̶o̶n̶ s̶t̶u̶d̶y̶ ̶m̶a̶t̶e̶ classmate, whose name he learned was Cyril Ashley, holding various books in his arms; who, as soon as he noticed the prince's questioning gaze, grabbed his wrist (still managing to hold up all the books) and dragged him to his desk while telling him that they weren't prepared enough and that they'd pull an all-nighter, and Felix couldn't bring himself to say no;
Maybe It was when miss Greyham, who the prince had known for the majority of his life (although they weren't really friends, they were probably close acquaintances at best) pointed out that these days he was never seen without marquess Ashley and that they were always togheder, no matter when or where, and Felix honestly didn't care, because Cyril was his friend, his only true friend, and he made his monotonous world so much brighter;
Maybe It was the clear night Felix found himself knocking on Cyril's door, when he finally allowed himself a moment of vulnerability and hugged his friend, held him like a lifeline, because he didn't know what could happen to him if he lost the only person that stuck around and cared enough to see who Felix Arc Riddil trurly was; and Cyril hugged back, no questions asked.
And before he could realize It, the perfect mask known as the second crown prince of the kingdom of Riddil had been shattered, ripped away to reveal something raw and human.
Something real.
Too real for someone -something?- like him.
He had to pull away. There was no other choice.
This boy was to dangerous for him. If he was able to rip apart the only thing that kept him safe for all his life, then what else could he do? Felix didn't want to find out.
But...
A small, selfish part of him didn't want to. He'd gotten attached to Cyril, to his feigned coldness, his own special kind of hidden care, his beautiful eyes and cold hands and soft heart hidden beneath layers of frost, and the way his heart fluttered every time they were togheder and he felt like he could be himself and not a stupid facáde, almost like lov-
No.
He didn't have the liberty to choose.
Lapdogs such as himself should follow their owner's orders, not choose for themselves.
And a disobedient dog deserves to be disciplined.
He didn't want to be disciplined.
But that also meant that he had to pull away and leave that beautiful feeling behind.
He had to leave Cyril behind.
All the quiet moments of understanding, all the silent gestures, and all the times their hand brushed in the hallways and he could feel his skin getting warmer; thrown away because he made the mistake of flying too close to the sun like a messed-up Icarus who just wanted control over his own life.
He just wanted something to hold onto, and now he'd hurt both himself and the only person he'd trurly gotten close to.
God, Felix hated himself.
***
Distancing himself hurt so much.
He knew It would be bad, that It would be painful, but he didn't expect this.
Every time he passed by Cyril in an hallway or caught his gaze in class, it felt like a thousand knives stabbed into his back.
And to make everything worse, the other probably thought the prince had just been playing with him like a toy, and that he'd been throw away after the royal lost interest like the spoiled kid Cyril likely believed he was.
He desperatly wanted to explain, to hug him tightly and apologize over and over and over until his throat was sore and his eyes dry of tears.
But what could he even say? "Sorry i suddently started avoiding you, i accidentally let my guard down and allowed myself to be and actual human being instead of a fake mask and i'm not actually allowed to be anything more than a political tool for my manipulative grandfather so i ran away like a coward instead of telling you everything because i'm too scared that something might go wrong"? No, that was too pathetic even for him.
So, he just had to keep suffering, smiling as if nothing happened and hope that Cyril would grow to hate him, because hating someone was easier than loving them despite everything, and he didn't want his f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ former friend to be in more pain.
And Just like that he was back in his personal hell of waking up, attending classes, socializing and smiling, smiling, smiling.
But now that he'd gotten a taste of freedom It was even more painful.
Because he knew what It felt like to be someone other than the perfect second Prince, and those memories were as sweet as they were painful.
So much so that he'd often find himself wandering around the halls at night looking for a distraction from his own mind, avoiding that specific dorm that he'd rather not think about (lest he start tormenting himself about how much he hurt Cyril), and insead sneaking into unlocked rooms with balconies, Just so that he could look down and fantasize about what would happen if he let himself fall.
No. He couldn't do that.
He didn't want to pass down in history as a spoiled brat who had everything and threw It away.
It was on one of these nights he was looking down at the garden below when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder.
Too cold.
Too familiar.
He knew who It belonged to, and he hated that he did.
But the only thing he could do was to take a Deep breath and put the mask back on.
He just had to smile.
"Marquess Ashley," he muttered, trying to be as quiet as possible, "what a coincidence. Can't sleep?"
But Cyril didn't seem to be falling for any of that. Figures, anyone would notice something was wrong after seeing him so vulnerable.
"...Why?"
Of course he'd ask that. Of course.
Maybe he could Just act dumb?
"What do you mean?"
But, of course, all that he recieved was an icy glare. Of course that wouldn't work.
He was really starting to feel bad. Well, he constantly did, but he just suppressed the feeling when he could.
"...I'm sorry," he whispered, almost too quiet to hear, "I'm so sorry."
The grip on his shoulder tightened.
"That's not and explanation." Felix said, not minding the volume of his own voice. "Why did you suddently start avoiding me? Did i do something wrong?"
"No, It's just-"
"Please." At this point, Cyril sounded desperate. "Please Just tell me if i did something wrong."
Felix really hated himself right now.
He took a Deep breath.
"Look," he begun, "you did nothing wrong. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gotten close to you to begin with. I'm the crown prince, i can't allow myself to be vulnerable. So, I'm sorry if i got you involved in this. Please Just forget about me."
How he managed to Say that with a smile was a miracle. Or maybe he just desensitized himself to the thought so much that It didn't hurt anymore.
(Of course It hurt. He was just good at hiding the pain, wasn't he?)
But, no matter how much he might make It sound normal, such a depressing thing was still concerning to say. Hell, he probably made It worse.
The grip on his shoulder tightened even more, almost making him wince.
"That's nonsense. Stop saying nonsense. You're a human being, of course you're going to have feelings."
He, a human being. Now that was funny.
Felix turned around, a sad smile grazing his lips.
"I'm not a human being. I'm the second crown prince. I'm not allowed to have things like feelings-"
He couldn't even finish his sentence before the strong arms of the person he loved most were wrapped around him.
"Stop saying things like that. You're as human as anyone else." Cyril whispered, only for him to hear.
And only right there, on the balcony of some random unused classroom, did he finally allow himself to be fully vulnerable in years, breaking down into a mess of muffled sobs and whispered apologies.
***
During their third year at the Academy, a rumor started to bloom.
"Hey, did you know...."
"I Heard the prince and marquess Ashley are secretly dating...."
"Really? I didn't think the price would be into men...."
"Nah, It's Just a stupid rumor, i bet It's just because of those Mlms or whatever they're called gaining more popularity recently...."
"What does multi level marketing have to do with any of this?"
"That's not what i- Nevermind."
"I mean, have you seen the way they look at each other? There's definetly something up with them...."
Felix felt a cold hand on his shoulder, and turned around to see a very embarassed Cyril Ashley.
"Should we... Stop them?" He mumbled, looking down at the floor.
"Nah, that would probably Just make the rumors worse. Plus," he smiled "I like seeing you flustered, my dear."
And, well...
If Monica Norton happened to see what came after that, she'd Just have to keep It to herself and hope that Lana Colette wouldn't notice the look in her eyes that said "i just witnessed something that i did not want to see", or that she'd at least ignore It.
(She didn't ignore It. And Monica accidentally spilled the beans, and the rumors got way worse.)