The Crown Prince's Most Disrespectful Attendant

Ch8: A Prince And A Problem

The man stood in the sunlight like the world had arranged itself for his convenience.

Wind tugged lightly at his cloak. Silver thread gleamed across the royal crest on his chest. His horse stamped once behind him, impatient and elegant, much like its owner.

“We meet again,” he said.

Albert remained crouched in the grass, calmly picking another roseberry.

He dropped it into the basket.

Then another.

Only after a full, disrespectful pause did he look up.

“I’m afraid not.”

The man’s brow lifted.

Albert rose slowly to his feet, basket tucked under one arm.

“A noble as yourself,” he said with dry politeness, “would never stoop low enough to know a commoner like me. You must be mistaken.”

For a second, silence held the meadow.

Then the stranger let out a short laugh.

“Still insolent.”

“Still forgettable.”

The blue-eyed man stepped closer.

There was amusement on his face, but it no longer hid the sharp edge beneath. He carried himself with the ease of someone obeyed since childhood.

He spoke clearly, voice ringing with practiced authority.

“I am Crown Prince Cassian Valmere, heir to the throne of the Valmere Empire.”

He lifted his chin slightly.

“The future sovereign of this land.”

The moment seemed built for awe.

Sunlight brightened behind him.

The wind stirred dramatically.

Even the horse looked proud.

Albert blinked once.

Then said, in the flattest voice possible:

“And so?”

The silence that followed was profound.

A bird changed direction mid-flight.

One of the distant hunting dogs stopped barking.

Cassian stared at him.

“…And so?”

Albert nodded.

“Yes. I heard the words. I’m asking what they are meant to do.”

The prince’s jaw tightened.

“You stand before the future ruler of this empire.”

Albert shifted the basket to his other arm.

“And I stand before a man interrupting berry collection.”

Cassian’s expression darkened.

“You truly have no sense of fear.”

Albert considered it.

“No, I have excellent sense. I simply reserve fear for meaningful things.”

“Meaningful things?”

“Floods. Fire. Tax collectors. Mold.”

Cassian took one deliberate step forward.

“I could have your shop burned to ash.”

Albert shrugged.

“Then you’d save me the trouble of closing it.”

The prince blinked.

Albert continued thoughtfully.

“I’ve been considering a new profession. Something far away from people like you.”

He looked toward the horizon.

“Maybe fishing.”

A vein near Cassian’s temple visibly objected.

“You mock me.”

“You make it easy.”

Before Cassian could answer, hoofbeats approached.

Several mounted guards rode over the hill and dismounted quickly, armor clinking as they rushed forward.

They bowed at once.

“Your Highness!”

Their relief was obvious. One looked moments away from tears.

Cassian did not look at them.

Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Albert.

Then slowly, a smirk curved his mouth.

It was not a pleasant smirk.

“Tell me,” he said lightly, “why was a civilian allowed inside the royal hunting grounds?”

The guards froze.

One swallowed hard.

“Your Highness, we… we did not know he had entered.”

“We can remove him immediately,” another said quickly.

Cassian folded his arms.

“And what is the usual consequence for civilians trespassing in a restricted hunting zone?”

The men glanced at one another.

Finally, an older knight answered carefully.

“They are escorted out, Your Highness.”

Cassian nodded once.

Then pointed at Albert.

“Throw him in jail.”

Every person in the meadow froze.

Even Albert.

“…What?”

The guards looked horrified.

The older knight cautiously cleared his throat.

“Your Highness… jail?”

Cassian’s smile widened.

“Yes. Jail.”

Albert stared at him in open disbelief.

“I did nothing wrong!”

“You trespassed.”

“You just heard the punishment is being escorted out!”

“I am improving policy.”

“That is not how laws work!”

“It is today.”

The guards looked as if they wished lightning would solve the situation.

Albert’s face twisted.

Inside his mind, old annoyance rose like smoke.

Crown princes.

Always aloof.

Always convinced the sky personally opened for them.

And if this generation was any indication, they had only become more spoiled.

Two guards approached nervously.

“Sir… please come quietly.”

Albert stepped back.

“No.”

“Sir…”

“No.”

They reached for his arms.

Albert jerked away and pointed at Cassian.

“You’re sentencing me because your arrogance couldn’t survive being insulted!”

Several guards inhaled sharply.

One muttered a prayer.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Careful.”

“Or what? More berry-related tyranny?”

“Watch your tongue.”

“You first.”

The older knight looked ready to faint.

Cassian turned smoothly and mounted his horse in one practiced motion. He gathered the reins, cloak settling behind him like dark water.

Then he looked down at Albert.

“Take him,” he said coldly. “He can await judgment.”

The horse turned.

The guards moved again.

This time, Albert went still.

Very still.

The kind of stillness that often came before regrettable decisions.

Then he chuckled.

Softly at first.

Then once more, louder.

“Hey.”

The two guards grabbing for him suddenly cried out.

One flew sideways into the grass.

The other stumbled backward so hard he rolled down the slight hill.

Albert stood straight, brushing dust from his sleeves.

The basket of roseberries remained upright.

A miracle.

The meadow had gone silent.

Cassian turned his horse back slowly.

Albert lifted his head.

Gone was the lazy merchant expression.

Gone was the bored sarcasm.

For the first time, something old and dangerous looked through his eyes.

He fixed the prince with a deadly stare.

“Do I,” Albert asked quietly, “look like a pushover to you?”

No one moved.

The wind passed through the tall grass in a long whisper.

Even the horses seemed uncertain.

Cassian studied him with renewed interest.

Not anger now.

Not amusement.

Something sharper.

Recognition.

The guards, shaken and pale, did not know whether to draw swords or apologize to everyone present.

Albert adjusted the basket under his arm.

“Good,” he said when no one answered.

Then he bent, picked one last roseberry from the bush beside him, and dropped it into the basket.

“Now,” he added, looking at Cassian, “escort me out like the law says.”