Loathing, Unadulterated Loathing
~This excerpt takes place in the year 599~
“Young Prince? Your father wishes for you to join him in his study, he has things he would like to discuss with you.” A nervous looking servant stood in the frame of Grian’s door, large beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Really, I never would have guessed with how the last four guys came in here telling me the same thing,” The younger Grian shot back from where he laid on top of his bed’s canopy, head lolled over the side while he laid on his back so he was looking at the servant man upside down.
“Young prince if I could be quite transparent with you…” The servant man sighed as he wrung his hands, “The king has offered a substantial bonus to whomever brings you to him, and it would mean the world to my family and I if we had the funds to send our daughter to school.” As hard as he tried to be aloof and uncaring, Grian’s heart pained for the man, and even if he didn’t trust his father to follow through on his promise, he swung back down onto his bed. Landing with a soft grunt before popping up and straightening up his clothes, looking to the man for further direction.
“Alright then,” The man smiled softly at him before turning to lead Grian to his father’s study. Of course Grian knew how to get there on his own, but how else would his father know who to give his reward to if Grian came on his own?
“Grian, it’s about time, did the other servants get lost on their way to collect you?” His father asked tightly, waving off the servant man as soon as he made eye contact with his son. Grian just shrugged in response, his own eyes fixed on the dark haired boy standing next to his father.
“They must have,” The king rolled his eyes and sighed.
“You’re becoming a man now, and as you are set to inherit the kingdom when I become unable to rule any longer I believe it’s time for you to get an advisor of your own, someone to keep you in check so you get a better grasp upon what your future is to be.” The king explained.
“So a glorified butler?” Grian asked. His father ignored him.
“This is the son of Duke Jade, Mumbo. The top of all of his classes and well versed in economic and political matters, I believe he will be a good fit as your advisor, someone who knows what they’re doing, and a good influence.” His father explained dryly, gesturing to the red eyed boy who looked half ready to jump out of his own skin. He was taller than Grian by a good deal, but he was thin and bony, which was odd as Duke Jade was one of the wealthiest in the kingdom.
“I can’t pick my own advisor?” Grian noted curiously.
“You’re still a child,” The king pointed out.
“I thought you said I was becoming a man?” Grian retorted snarkily. His father chose to ignore him once again.
“Mumbo is smarter than you, so I would advise that you listen to his words.” Mumbo tensed as the king spoke, “That is all for now, you two are both dismissed, Grian behave, and Mumbo, remember your role.” Mumbo nodded firmly despite his hands shaking horribly.
“Of course your majesty.” Mumbo followed Grian out of the room, jogging a bit to keep up with him while Grian tried to speed walk away from the inevitable conversation, “Your highness! A word with you if I could? Please?”
“We can talk in my room.” Grian shrugged, fully intending to lock the younger boy out of his room as soon as he could get a little distance between them again. Mumbo nodded and followed back to Grian’s room silently. He kept a reasonable distance so it wasn’t hard for Grian to invision taking a few fast steps to seperate them, but when they got to his room, Mumbo jammed his foot in the doorway. He made a noise between a grunt and a squeak as Grain closed the door hard on his foot, but he just pushed the door open again and took a seat in one of the many chairs of his room.
“I see you're not that open to talking.” Mumbo noted.
“What gave that away?” The prince sighed as he closed the door behind him before scuttling back up to his perch on the canopy of his bead to try to regain some height on the much taller advisor. “How much is my father paying you?”
“I’m not being paid your highness, I am doing this in exchange for room and board here,” Mumbo explained.
“Why would you do that?” Grian asked, “Duke Jade has a large manor as far as I remember, surely you have an entire wing there for yourself,” He assumed.
“I used to… my step-mother isn’t the biggest fan on mine though,” Mumbo sighed before regaining his composure, “But that’s really not important, let’s go over your schedule for tomorrow shall we? Your father has several meetings with some directors of the kingdom he would like you to sit in on, and you have dinner scheduled with the daughter of Duke Mallure as your father thinks she would make for a good queen.” Mumbo explained casually.
“Well you can tell my father that my schedule is all booked up tomorrow so I will be unable to attend the meetings.”
“All booked up then? Could you tell me what you’re doing so I can offer my assistance then?” Mumbo offered.
“I am fully booked up hiding from my father, from dawn to lunch in the gardens, then I move to the library until I sneak dinner in the servant’s quarters and hide on the roof until the old bastard falls asleep and I can rest.” Grian explained.
“I’m sure that can all be rescheduled, I shall inform your father that you will be in attendance for the meetings.” Mumbo stood up to leave and Grian rolled his eyes.
“If choosing an annoying bitch like you was my father’s way of trying to curb my homosexual tendencies,” Grian noted, putting finger quotes around the words: homosexual tendencies, “Then I may actually have to congratulate him for finally doing something relatively smart.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, your highness,” Mumbo shot back dryly, closing the door sharply behind him.
“Yeah we’ll see about that.”
“Is the prince ready for breakfast?” Mumbo asked as he made eye contact with the short governess who opened Grian’s door when he knocked on it.
“I’m afraid not sir, he’s still dead asleep, I can’t do a damn thing to get him up.” The woman’s words were punctuated by a loud snore from Grian, only accentuating her point.
“Thank you for your attempts ma’am, I will handle the prince from here if you could prepare us some tea?” He asked, to which the woman’s eyebrows shot upwards.
“Earl grey?” She asked, sounding stunned.
“That will be just fine.” Mumbo nodded. He stepped to the side to let her pass before letting himself into Grian’s room. The prince was sprawled out in all directions on his bed, tangled up in the sheets with drool dripping out of his wide open mouth and prominent dark rings under his eyes.
Mumbo tugged the sheets out from under him, sending the sleeping prince crashing to the floor and waking with a jolt.
“What the hell?!” Grian snapped, rubbing his eyes, “Mumbo if you did this I swear I will have you fired.”
“Take that up with your father later, right now he has a meeting with the captain of the royal guard he expects you to attend. Breakfast will have to wait until later since you decided to sleep in, but I have the governess bringing us tea.” Mumbo explained dryly, “Now get dressed will you?”
“What if I’d rather not?” Grian shot back.
“Then I’ll have to dress you myself and we’ll see really how good I am at repressing your homosexual tendencies.” Grian’s face went pale as he stood up, “Good, now the governess already had clothes set out for you so hurry up and get those on yeah?”
“Grian, you’re dismissed for lunch, Mumbo, if you could stay back for a moment?” The first meeting with the head of the guard ran long so it flowed into the second meeting with one of the king’s accountants, and Grian was quick to bolt out of the room as soon as the meetings were over.
“Of course your majesty, what do you need?” He asked.
“You did well this morning,” The king noted bluntly, “Flawless even, but I need one more thing from you.”
“Anything you need, your majesty.” Mumbo nodded.
“I need you to find out why his face was a bloody mess this morning. It’s unbecoming of a future king and while I would like to believe that my son is up studying, we both know that’s not the case. Report back to me as always, you are dismissed now.” The king waved him off, and despite the nerves pricking up Mumbo’s spine he left and began walking towards the main dining hall so he could get some of his own food before the next meeting.
Managing a rebellious prince he could deal with, but following him around when he thinks he’s safe from his father’s prying eyes? The idea didn’t sit right with Mambo no matter what way he tried to spin it.
Still… he couldn’t say no to the king.
It wasn’t hard to follow Grian when he snuck out, mostly because he wasn’t very keen on hiding it in the first place. It made Mumbo mentally curse the king for tasking him with following the prince when any old guard could have done it, but he followed the red cloaked prince into town nonetheless, following him all the way to a rickety old bar on the firsthest edge of the capital city.
“Hold it!” A burly man put a hand on Mumbo’s chest, blocking him from following Grian into the bar. “You need coin to get into this bar, boy, show me what you have.” While one hand darted to his face to make sure his sweat wasn’t messing up the stupid fake mustache Mumbo had inked on to try to make himself look older, his other hand darted to his coin purse which he pulled open and emptied for the man to see. It wasn’t all that much since he had been more or less hung out to try by his step-mother, but it was enough to get him inside and seated at a booth in the corner, with a view of Grian at one of the center tables putting away a glass of wine while surrounded by bar goers.
Grian made loud and boisterous conversation with them for some time before stumbling his way to the band at the head of the bar after what had to be half a dozen glasses of wine.
“Can I sing somethin?” He slurred to the lead singer.
“Of course my prince, be my guest.” When the singer addressed him as the prince Mumbo watched in mild horror as a group or rougher looking men in the corner opposite him seemed to hone in on Grian as he stumbled through a rendition of an old drinking song a prince who had never been to knight school had no business knowing.
It was nearly dawn when Grian started dragging himself back towards the castle. He was practically asleep on his feet but the men with their eyes locked on him were frighteningly awake. Mumbo positioned himself behind them as they stalked Grian back to the castle, making sure he could react if they tried to pull anything.
And of course they did.
The smallest one of the group pulled out a blow dart and aimed it at the prince’s back, and it was like adrenaline was pumped full speed into Mumbo’s veins as he rushed forward to slap the tube out of the man’s hand before grabbing Grian and running. The men shouted as they chased after them but Mumbo was quick to dodge and weave through the crowded town center enough to lose them, ending with him and Grian panting for breath in a somewhat secluded alleyway off of the main road.
“Are you alright?” Mumbo asked.
“Why wouldn’ I be?” Grian slurred sleepily.
“Those men back there tried to shoot you! You need to be more careful, the town isn’t safe for a prince!” Mumbo snapped.
“You’re kinda cute,” Grian giggled, ignoring every word Mumbo was saying, “I like the mustache, how long did it take you to grow that?” He asked.
“Your highness we need to get you back to the castle!” Mumbo insisted as he grabbed Grian by the shoulders.
Much to his surprise, Grian grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so he could press a kiss to Mumbo’s lips.
“Why did you do that?” Mumbo whispered softly.
“A tank you, for savin me,” Grian explained.
“How am I meant to explain this?”
Back in the room both were quick to crash. Mumbo slumping Grian down on his bed before sitting in one of the chairs across the room and promptly drifting off himself.
It was Grian who eventually woke up first, mildly hungover and unsure of how he even got home until he saw Mumbo slumped over infront of him, stupid fake mustache bathed in the light of the sun, and he knew in his bones that he fucked up in a way he might not recover from.
“Mumbo?” His question was softer than expected as he slid out of bed and softly walked over to shake his advisor’s shoulder. Mumbo awoke with a jolt and for a moment he looked at Grian with the same fear in his eyes that Grian felt in his bones, before his eyes softened.
“Oh your highness, did you sleep well?” He asked.
“What happened last night?” Grian insisted, “W..what did you tell my father?!”
“I thought you weren’t scared of him?” Mumbo noted.
“What did you tell him?!” Grian repeated.
“Nothing! Not yet anyway,” Mumbo sighed, “I was out all night watching you so I crashed as soon as I carried you back here, I haven’t had a chance to speak to your father yet.”
“Please don’t tell him! He’ll have me locked in!”
“I was getting to that, I think we can make a deal.” Mumbo noted, putting a hand on Grian’s shoulder in an attempt to ground the shaking prince. “You do as I say during the day, play pretend and act like a well behaved prince whose ready to take over the kingdom, and in exchange I won’t tell your father what you get up to in your free time.”
“What good does that do for you?” Grian noted.
“I need this job, and I don’t get to keep this job if you refuse to follow my recommendations.” Mumbo sighed, “I’ll give you a minute to think it over, I need to scrub this stupid ink off of my face before someone respectable sees this.”
Grian say back on his bed while Mumbo ducked into the attached bathroom, furiously scrubbing at his face with an old basin of cold water and chalky soap. He didn’t like the idea of playing nice, even if it wasn't real it would make his father believe he had won, that he had somehow ‘fixed’ his son and maybe he would try to fix Pearl too… But Mumbo seemed kind enough, for all Grian had done to him, all the hell he tried to put him through…
And it would be kinda nice, having someone he could talk to without fear of repercussions.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.