Orchid
Orchids symbolize rare and delicate beauty. The ancient Greeks favored them to show masculinity, but now they have changed to more feminine.
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Regulus was awakened by the unfamiliar sound of the piano. It wasn’t like he didn't know what it sounded like. It was about the melody that was currently being played on it. For a moment, he wondered if it was definitely not a dream but after rubbing his eyes with his bony fists and a slight pinch in his arm, it came to him that this beautiful sound was actually real and not imaginary.
Since the castle pianist had been hired, he has played the same songs over and over again so they have became quite boring and monotonous after few weeks. The boy slowly stood up trying to make as little noise as possible to not wake anyone up. He decided to check who, and for what reason was playing the previously unknown for him songs.
He got out of his room and headed towards the richly decorated door. After crossing the threshold of his chamber, his feet began to tread on perfectly cleaned corridor tiles. He tried not to fall into any precious wailing, and when he thought about which different parts of the world they came from, his head began to hurt. He traveled even further away from his chamber, and the sound of the soft music became even louder.
The closer he was to the melody, the cooler the air was. He didn't think about putting anything on his bony shoulders, obscured only by a thin silk robe that stretched back to his milky white ankles. If father saw what he was dressed in, the boy would probably get thrown into the dingy palace dungeons.
The night shirt belonged to his brother, it was one of the few items he managed to keep after his disappearance, everything else was burned by his father less than 3 years ago. The Prince remembered his brother way too well, at least he thought so before the whole sudden leaving situation. He knew that it was because of that, that the King considered him unworthy of taking over the throne of England.
The wind insanely falling into the stone hallways caused goose bumps to appear on Duke's forearms. The crystals on the chandeliers hang around each other creating an irritating screech, contrasting with the pleasant sound of the piano.
Curtains flew on various sides showing how strong the blast was on the royal manor. The window was completely exposed, the Prince’s face completely turned to the full Moon. Regulus stood there stunned for a moment and slowly began to lose himself in its' incredible beauty. After a few minutes of pointless protruding, he shook it off and started taking steps on painfully cold stone stairs. He went down the stairs, drawing patterns on a thick, icy railing with his delicate fingertips, moving them to the rhythm of music stuck in his head.
He reached the end of the stairs and turned toward the music hall. He stopped in front of the huge glass gates, five meters long, and then opened them to a minimum width, so as not to be noticed, but so as to be able to enter the spatial room.
The walls reflected an echo, carrying with successive gusts of wind a melody that slightly tugged the hall. The walls of the chamber were immaculately polished and decorated with portraits of the most talented composers. He scanned the room with his cold eyes. Each wink caused memories to struck him along with the moonlight falling through the rounded window frames. He closed his eyelids to get rid of the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
When he opened them, the air momentarily left his lungs.
At the instrument did not sit a well-known pianist in his fifties, but a young, well-built man. It seemed that the said man wasn’t aware of the presence of the Duke in the room, because he did not stop tapping the keys with his sun-kissed fingers, while slightly picking up the pace. The boy allowed himself to examine the new - as he thought – pianist with his stern gaze.
He was a man - it's certain, a little older than him, with a caramel skin tone. No, not caramel. He looked as if all the brightest rays of the sun had blended into his smooth, flower-like skin, and he spread them around him like a smaller version of the sun. Black messy fringe fell on his forehead and slightly obscured his eyes that were closed, which made it impossible to tell what colour they were. The eyebrows of the pianist were slightly wrinkled, which added seriousness to the action performed by the stranger.
Regulus did not seem to notice that he had approached the piano taking small steps. It came to him when his hip collided with the instrument and the music died down.
"Hey" said the confused - probably no less than Regulus himself - man. He noticed that the boy was staring at him with anxiety written in the eyes in the most enchanting shade of brown, adored by long eyelashes that shimmered in the light of candles in the Hall. The Duke reciprocated his gaze and, out of nervousness, pushed his dark hair out of his face "I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to wake you up kid" the pianist explained with an incredibly soft, sweet and ear-pleasing voice.
"There is nothing to apologise for, my sleep has been shallow for a long time, after a while I would wake up myself. And do not call me ’kid’, my name is Regulus.”
"It would be a bit immoral for me to call you by your name, don't you think prince?" the man mocked him and his face no longer showed shock or anxiety, but amusement.
"It's immoral for you to ignore my request" he growled under his nose, breaking the eye contact with a newly discovered man. “Could I know who you are and why are you playing the piano at such a late time?" he raised an eyebrow having no idea where so much self-confidence came from, he felt somehow comfortable with this stranger.
"I’m James, it was the first time i played this" he spoke, pride easy to hear in his voice.
"James" the Prince whispered to himself, frowning slightly, "Did you compose it yourself?" Regulus asked much more loudly this time. It was impossible not to detect the admiration and slight excitement in his speech.
"Obviously. I only play my music, how else should I express myself, Prince? Through songs that every other man in England has already heard? It would be unoriginal" said James with a hint of amusement.
"You're right, it wouldn't be original.”
"If I'm allowed to ask... what are you wearing Reg?"
"You are not allowed to ask and don't call me ‘Reg’ i do not like it" he scoffed and raised his eyebrows.
"All right, there's nothing to be upset about. This outfit, although unusual, fits you exceptionally. It emphasizes your delicacy" James shook his head with a slight smile painted on his face.
"What's the title of your song?" Regulus changed the subject, tilting his head slightly to the side, which caused a few unruly curls to enter his field of view.
The pretty boy answered him with silence, but after a while he pushed the lose strand of Regulus’ hair from his forehead.
"I haven't named it yet" The Prince watched him in focus with his eyes wide open. Oddly enough, Regulus wasn't mad at him, and he didn't tolerate it when someone touched his hair.
With James it was different. His touch was gentle, and as he rubbed his fingers against his cheek, as he raved his hair from his forehead, Regulus got a strange feeling in his stomach. Something he could describe as a herd of butterflies fluttering in different colored wings in the royal gardens.
"Don't you feel cold? You're barefoot" continued James after seeing the bare feet of the curly-haired man, and Regulus could only afford a slight nod, as at that point he was looking at the pianist's immaculately marked cheekbones. They associated him with the spikes of the rose, added sharpness to the whole character owning them, but somehow the character remained delicate, light and beautiful in all possible ways. Everything remained in harmonious peace. The Prince frowned in thoughtfulness. How could he compare James to a rose? After all, at first glance it was evident that the creature standing in front of him was quite unique, if not extraordinary, while roses... There were plenty of roses, although you will not find two identical flowers, these will always look the same as the rest. You can call them flowers that symbolise love, but everyone knows how overrated they are.
"Follow me. I'll take you somewhere where I get my inspiration from. Maybe you can come up with the title for your song" Regulus offered insecurely, but when he saw a smile appearing on James' face and how his eyes shimmered like the truest stars, he felt that the corner of his mouth had lifted upwards.
"Lead the way, Prince.”