“Papa papa! Tell us a bedtime story!” two young children in their nightgowns run into their father’s study.

“Now, now, you know papa’s busy, why don’t you ask mom-”

“Mommy’s stories are always boring, papa always has the best stories” one of the children interrupts. The pleading eyes of the children gazing upon the tall stature of their father were enough to make anyone’s heart melt.

Their father can’t help but grin at their admiration, satisfied that his children’s love for him might just be greater than his wife’s. “Well if you put it like that, I guess I have no choice.” He perched the two children onto his lap, they were oozing with excitement. 

“Let me tell you a story about a young boy...”

Running down the unpaved sand, weaving in between crowds and hiding in alleys. It was clear that this young boy with golden blonde hair was an escapee. 

“There he is! Don’t let him escape!”  Royal guards stomping the ground, clouds of sand following behind them. Being more agile than fully uniformed guards, the young boy quickly jumped over walls and fences, leaving the guards to be left astray. He hastily took clothes that were left to dry in an attempt to blend in but a small voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Excuse me, I’m afraid you may have taken the wrong clothes, I’m certain those are mine,” A young brunet appeared from the shadows. His sunken eyes were paired with a pale complexion, deprived of a good night’s rest. His shirt had patches of mismatched colors, while his shoes did not seem to serve their purpose. 

The golden-haired boy was stunned. He stood so still one might mistake him for a statue. Will this boy turn him into the royal guards for a hefty sum of gold that he desperately needs?

“I-I just thought how fancy this clothing looked, yo-you know, all these different colors make it interesting” Just as he finished his sentence, the clothing split into two and fell out of his hand. “Se-see? I-It even transforms into so-something new,” A smile filled with anxiety was plastered on his face. The brief silence after didn’t help the situation any better. 

“Fancy clothes?” the brunet was trying his best to hide his laughter. “If you want one, I have more at home. It isn’t far away. Although, they don’t transform like that” he chuckled as he signaled at the two pieces of cloth on the ground. Unsure of what’s become of the situation, the blond agreed to follow the boy back home.

“Wait for me here, I’ll bring the clothes out” 

His home looked similar to his clothing, holes in the wall were covered by random pieces of wood with just a simple cloth to be named a door. Green glass bottles lined up at the window sills, covering the floor with a cool green hue.

The brunet reappeared with clothes similar to his in hand, with a difference in the number of clashing colored patches. The blond boy swiftly changes into the clothes given, leaving his own aside. 

It was at this moment, he realized something was amiss. The boy did not once question his identity nor his purpose of changing from silks into rags. Royal guards were questioning people on the road, looking for an escapee, he must have heard all the ruckus. Despite all this, he still offered his hospitality even when he wasn't in the most favorable position to do so. Then, a loud rumbling interrupted his thoughts.

“You haven’t eaten? It’s far past noon already”

The brunet was looking away while his ears glowed a bright red. “I already ate,” he muttered. Another loud rumble came from him. 

“Thieves! Don’t let them get away!” The overweight baker was huffing and puffing, straying further and further, he was no match for two young kids. The poor man had to let go of a few loaves of bread.

“What are you doing? I told you I wasn't hungry!” The brunet was being dragged behind the blond. “Tell that to your growling stomach!” he yelled back. The brunet’s cheeks turned a pink tint.

They finally stopped at a hill with a big tree at the top of it. It had a slight breeze and it was quite a distance from the market. The whole town was painted in golden-orange color from the setting sun. It was certainly a magnificent view.

“I’m not eating stolen bread.” the brunet said between pants. 

“Well too late”

The blond was aggressively stuffing the poor brunet’s mouth with bread. 

“Fine! I’ll eat it!” he managed to squeeze out a few words before a whole hand reaches into his stomach. A series of munches filled the air until the blond spoke.

“Hey, you know, I’m the prince of this kingdom.” The blond confesses.

“I know”

The blond snapped his head towards the brunet.

“Why didn’t you say or ask for anything?” he was dumbfounded. He knew all this time but chose not to say anything? He could’ve asked for gold, jewels, anything to turn this life around as a gift for his hospitality.

The brunet, not breaking eye contact from his bread replied, “Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable if I were to address you as Your Highness? After all, the reason you are sitting beside me eating stolen bread was to escape from all the titles, isn’t it?”

A smile spread across the blond’s face. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow, same time,” he stood up, dusting his pants. “And be prepared for a feast” he grinned.

“And that, kids, is how I met- oh, they’ve fallen asleep.” 

“Your Majesty, was it necessary to use an incident of our past as a bedtime story?” A tall brunet appears.

“Why, Minister of Finance, the brunet in the story, are you perhaps shy about your past?” the King teases.

“Certainly not”