"The younger brother desired to meet the princess again,
and thus snuck out every night to see her,
ignoring the fact that he was breaking the rules."

・ ・ ・

I made a friend.

Storm lay on his bed, contemplating. The dim, yellow light of his table lamp cast shadows around the room, and he stared at them. He raised his hand, and saw its shadow on the wall opposite him.

It'd been a week since their outing, yet he couldn't stop thinking about that day.

I made a friend.

Tesarah Starrod.

He could remember her features vividly, as if he had just seen her the day before. Her face smudged with dirt, dress soiled and ragged, shoes worn out. And yet, she was dainty, petite, beautiful.

Graceful, with the elegance of a swan.

Ravishing.

"I made a friend," he whispered to himself.

My first friend.

He could remember how pure her hair had been. The colour of the purest snow.

And her eyes.

They were the most brilliant turquoise he'd ever seen. It was like staring into the depths of the ocean when he gazed at her.

He wondered why he was thinking about her so much.

And why the roller coaster from before had returned to his stomach to torment him with its gut-wrenching loops.

His parents had been happy for him, but Xenor hadn't believed him when he had said that he'd made a friend. That was to be expected, really, considering his brother had told him before the outing that he could not make any friends.

But Storm did, and his first friend was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen.

Great Guardian Spirit, I'm going mad.

He covered his face with his hands, groaning, as his thoughts rampaged in his mind, nearly untameable.

He wanted to go out of the Palace again.

He wanted to see Argon's beauty again.

He wanted to see Tesarah again.

The desire was almost unbearable.

Sighing, Storm turned, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. It didn't help that he wasn't tired at all.

I need to sleep. Silix is giving us a test tomorrow, he reminded himself, and closed his eyes.

Yet, in his mind, he could only see the sights of Argon, and Tesarah's smiling face.

I want to be free.

Storm threw back his covers and got out of bed, stuffing his feet into his bedroom slippers. He headed for the door, and cracked it open, peering around to see if there were any guards around the corner.

Sudden footsteps. Clinking armour.

He quickly shut the door and stood there with his breath held, his ear against the wood, as he waited for the guard to walk past. The footsteps stopped in front of his door, and he grumbled inwardly.

"Did you hear? One of the new recruits cut General Flamestar," came a deep voice.

"Eh? Who's the lad who did tha'?" replied another voice with a slightly higher pitch.

Right, the guards patrolled in pairs.

"It was just an accident, really. Although General Flamestar got mad at the poor guy."

Storm scowled and waited impatiently for the guards to finish their gossip.

"An' 'ere me thought we got ourselves a prodigy, like 'Is 'Ighness Xenor."

There was a scoff.

"His Highness Xenor's standards are almost unreachable. No one can compare to him. It's a wonder how he's managed to become so strong, and at such a young age!"

"Tis' why 'e's called a prodigy, ye dumbass. Know what I mean?"

Storm wondered what 'dumbass' meant. It sounded like a bad thing. Though, he had to agree with the guards. Xenor was undeniably powerful.

"Hey, we shouldn't be making so much noise here. This is His Highness Storm's room." The voice had dropped to a low whisper.

"Aye, right ye are. An' so we shouldn't be standin' 'ere gossipin' like a bunch o' kids, innit."

The footsteps started again, and slowly faded into the distance. Storm breathed out, relieved, and opened the door once more. Cautiously, he stepped out, then quickly made his way to the stairs.

Gingerly, he descended, a particular destination in mind. Perhaps he would be able to clear his thoughts there.

After some minutes, fortunately without getting caught by any patrolling guards, Storm reached his destination.

The Royal Gardens.

He remembered the first time he'd visited the gardens, when he'd been three. His mother had shown him all sorts of flowers and plants, with all sorts of big names. The weather had been bright, the sunlight strong, and the gardens had been beautiful.

Every flower and plant was unique, with no two looking exactly the same. Much like snowflakes, except with more vibrant colours.

Storm stared around the gardens as he made his way to one of the benches, feeling his heart twist as he noticed the emptiness around him.

All he saw was darkness.

The lively hues of reds, blues, greens, yellows and other colours were all gone.

All drenched in the dullness of night, their beauty faded.

As he settled down, he noticed that a cloud had blocked the moon, hiding its glow and thus casting a shadow over everything. The stars glittered, and he gazed up at them. Glittering little lights in a sea of endless black.

A bird soared past, flapping its wings through the open sky. Storm stared after it wistfully.

The bird looked free. Happy. It flew, as if it had nothing to worry about in the world. As if it could do whatever it wanted.

Unlike him.

Storm was a prince. He could not do what he wanted. He could not leave his worries behind.

He could not be free.

I am a prince.

I want to be free.

His title was important, sure, but it brought with it chains, dragging him down. He could not escape from his duty, no matter how hard he tried. Argon needed him, even if he was not the chosen heir in the end.

The Palace's walls loomed in the distance; a hulking silhouette blocking him from the outside world.

Caging him. Imprisoning him.

Keeping him away from the rest of the world's wonders.

Away from Tesarah.

Storm felt mocked.

He sighed, slumping on the bench.

Freedom was so far away.

It was then he heard a rustle, breaking the silence of the gardens. He started, glancing around with wide eyes, and heard it again. It seemed to be coming from the holly bushes lining the Palace walls, planted there for the sake of decorating the place.

He scrutinised the bushes, puzzled as to why they were making so much noise all of a sudden. Was there something in them?

Another shake of leaves, only far more vigorously than before.

Storm stood, and slowly crept toward the bushes, clenching his fists. He peered at the branches, and saw a flash of white.

White?

There was the sound of scrapes, and a soft hiss. More crazy shaking, and the white was a lot more visible. It almost looked like there was snow in the bushes.

He moved closer, intrigued, and gingerly parted the branches... only to have a hand flash out and claw at his slippers.

Mother of Argon—

Storm let out a terrified yelp and tumbled back, scrabbling away from the hand, which was digging into the dirt.

Another hand appeared, slowly followed by a head, a torso, then legs.

A person had emerged from the holly bushes.

He gaped at the figure before him, who had stood up and was dusting the dirt off her dress and picking out broken twigs from her hair. Her snow white hair. She turned to him, and it was then he finally recognised who it was.

"Tesarah?" Storm croaked out, completely aware of the amount of disbelief in his voice.

The white-haired girl blinked at him, then gasped. "Storm?" she cried incredulously, her turquoise eyes rounding in shock.

A sudden fear appeared in their oceanic depths.

"What are you doing here?" Storm gasped, staggering to his feet awkwardly. He shook his head. "And more importantly, how did you get in here? This is Palace grounds! If a guard spots you, it'll be the end for you."

Tesarah fidgeted, bowing her head and chewing on her lip. She seemed guilty, her gaze on the ground. "I-I can explain..." she stammered. Her hands shook, and she clasped her fingers together.

Storm shook his head again. "No, you have to leave. It's too risky for you to be here," he said firmly. Tesarah seemed to deflate, a pleading look on her face.

"P-please, at least let me stay for a while longer, and then I'll leave. Before midnight," she begged.

Storm was about to refuse, even though midnight was only a few minutes away, when a small voice spoke in his head.

You wanted to see her again.

He paused, and pondered on it.

You've wanted this for so long.

Glancing at Teasarah, he realised that the girl was looking at him with a mixed expression of hope and misery. He felt himself begin to relax, his gaze softening.

Just make use of this miracle, idiot.

"... Okay," he relented, and the girl brightened, her eyes shining joyously.

"Thank you, Storm!" she squealed, and he flushed, scratching the back of his head.

"Sorry about just now. I was... worried," he muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Tesarah returned a shy smile.

"It's okay," she responded, eyelids fluttering.

Storm led her to the bench that he'd been sitting on earlier, and they both sat. "So, mind telling me just how you came in here?" he questioned. It was a rather serious matter, as there might be a breach in the Palace walls.

Tesarah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She cleared her throat, eyes darting around nervously. "T-there's actually a small hole in the Palace walls. I was out looking for food one day, and I tripped, landing near the walls. As I was getting up, I spotted the hole, half-hidden behind some crates," she said softly, and gazed up at the sky. "I crawled through it, wondering where it led, and I emerged here."

"A hole? In the Palace walls?" Storm choked, and eyeballed the girl.

So there was a breach.

"I... I have to tell Father. This is too serious of a matter to ignore," he speculated, running a hand through his hair.

Tesarah suddenly gripped his arm, panic flaring in her eyes. "No, please don't!" she pleaded, staring at him desperately. Storm blinked at her, bewildered.

"I... I like it here," she began, gazing around the gardens. "It's a beautiful place."

"It's more beautiful in the morning," Storm argued, but faltered when she stood up and walked over to one of the patches of flowers. She crouched there, gently touching the petals of the flowers.

"When moonlight falls on these flowers," Tesarah spoke, like he hadn't said anything, "their petals glow, like silver and gold. The dew on them glitter like gemstones. It makes them look..." she trailed off, brows furrowing in thought.

"Ethereal?" Storm supplied, and she nodded, giving him a grateful smile.

"It makes them look ethereal." The girl stared down admiringly at the plants. "I've always liked plants, and this place is the only place where I can actually be myself. Everyday, I have to take care of the other children. I have to wash and clean up after them. It's tiring, but this places makes me feel alive again. It's... it's special to me." She glanced at him. "Even though it is the Palace gardens."

A sudden beam of moonlight shone down on Tesarah as the clouds moved away from the moon, and Storm felt a shiver run up his spine as he stared at her.

She seemed to glow, under the silvery light. Her hair lit up, turning an almost ghostly white, and when she looked up and smiled at him, her turquoise eyes glittered, as though there were stars in them.

The flowers beside her did look ethereal.

But she gave off an empyreal radiance.

She was so beautiful.

"Okay," he murmured, tearing his gaze away from her and looking at the plants, trying to distract himself from her. "I won't tell."

Tesarah beamed. "Thank you so much, Storm," she breathed out. Storm stood, kneeling down beside her, and watched as she tended to a few flowers which were drooping.

He found himself talking, about life in the Palace, his parents, Xenor. And in response, Tesarah told him about life outside the Palace, about how noisy it was everyday, how difficult it was to survive without the proper daily necessities.

Storm realised how differently Tesarah viewed the world.

He saw adventure.

She saw hardships.

Palace life was dull to him, but interesting to her.

But both of them agreed that they could only have 'freedom' when they were free from their responsibilities. Free from the title of prince. Free from taking care of a group of orphans.

I want to be free.

It was only when the sky started turning light did Storm realise how long they'd been talking. It was imperative that he returned to his chambers before anyone found him missing.

Tesarah had to return, too.

"I'll... see you tomorrow night?" she said, looking at him hopefully. Storm hesitated. He wanted to agree, but it felt... wrong.

I want to meet her again.

I can't, it's against the rules.

He met her turquoise gaze.

But I've already broken the rules by sneaking out tonight. A few more times wouldn't hurt...

"Alright. I'll wait for you," he said, nodding eagerly. Tesarah relaxed, looking delighted.

"See you soon, Storm," she whispered, giving him a final smile, before leaving through the hole she came in from, hidden behind the holly bushes.

Storm was almost tempted to follow after her. With the hole in the Palace walls, he could leave whenever he wanted. No one would know.

Then he shook himself, turning away.

He'd already broken enough rules— he didn't need to add more to the list.

He recalled what Tesarah said, about freedom. When he'd been talking to her, he felt his worries melt away, his frustration leave his mind. It'd been calming. Soothing.

Blissful.

Storm wondered if that was what freedom was like.

One day, he vowed, clenching his fists.

One day, we'll be free together, Tesarah. I promise.