The first prince had always been something of an elusive figure in high society.
Very few people could claim to know him well and not one person could claim to be his friend.
Even within the royal palace, he had his own manor, cut away from the main buildings, that even the King did not intrude upon without good reason. Even the servants of the manor only ever served within that manor.
For the rest of the servants of the royal palace, it was a somewhat enviable position. For those who weren’t from noble families or here to make connections, working in the manor meant a peaceful life of serving only one master. There was no need to run around the entire palace, going wherever they may be needed to make sure every task was completed to perfection.
The first prince’s figure could only be seen at the main palace through portraits from important events which depicted him as a sombre, straight-faced yet beautiful child.
His looks became something of a topic of conversation among those who had the privilege of seeing a portrait. Everyone knew he was a yellow-haired, blue-eyed child – a colouring that was rare in their northern kingdom. He looked more like the golden-locked southerners from where his maternal family hailed.
Some speculated that the reason for his inactivity was due to the suppression from the new Queen.
It had been a topic of great attention that the King had remarried less than a month after the death of the first Queen. Many considered that the woman he had married may have been his mistress even when the Queen had been alive – despite the stories of their harmonious and loving marriage.
The poor boy had only been 7 at the time and the new Queen’s ambitions weren’t a secret. Perhaps the pitiful young prince, who had just lost his mother, had been locked away by his stepmother who so fiercely wanted her own children to sit on the throne.
Whispers and rumours spread quickly and became more and more exaggerated. It was more a testament to the reputation of the first Queen, who had served her people so faithfully, that even now, they could only view her son in the sympathetic light with little to no evidence of his actual personality.
But the reality of things was slightly different.
The first prince the people imagine, a beautiful and delicate boy, fragile and in need of protection, elegant and kind but unable to hold his head high – a fairy-tale prince locked in a tower – didn’t exist.
Rhydian Lomisa Vallan had only ever been a cowardly boy.
Unlike the southern looks he had inherited from his mother, his personality was timid and this thoughts narrow.
He played the victim, frustrated by the circumstances that surround him and yet unwilling to learn, or work and put any measurable effort in to come out of this frustrating helplessness.
Despite being the first prince – the first in line to inherit the throne – he sent away all of his tutors and only learned what he wanted to learn.
Literature, horticulture, art, music – things of no use to a prince whose power had been threatened.
Ryan stared into eyes that were bluer than the summer sky and sighed.
The body was weak without an ounce of muscle.
The face wasn’t bad, but it was pale to the point of being sickly and the purple bags under his eyes along with the sunken cheeks took away from any handsomeness this face might have possessed.
He sighed and pulled on his shirt. He had a vague understanding of the situation – as much as anyone familiar with pop culture might.
And he wasn’t the type to dwell on things he couldn’t change or control.
He had no idea why it had to be him who had ended up in the body of some young prince but he could piece together his current circumstances pretty well from this prince’s memories.
A timid bookworm who had buried his head into the sand the minute things had stopped going his way.
A head crammed full of useless knowledge and no real skills or talent to speak of.
What a waste of taxpayers’ money.
I’ve tweaked some things like the character’s personalities to make things a little bit more interesting! Let me know what you think!