6. Ace in the Hole

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Iker rolled his shoulders as his duties was now put to an end. The Prince was making his duty as his personal servant quite difficult. It wasn't an increase in chores or shining his boots. Prince Cormac would never let Iker do any extra work than he should. That was what bothered Iker. The Prince would rather not have him work than work. To serve the Prince was his main duty, be at his beck and call to his every needs.

Today exhausted Iker. The Prince had panicked saying something was wrong with his wardrobe. Iker had rushed from his duty of doing the laundry, clouds of soap on his hands as he rushed towards the Prince's quarters. Frowning when he saw the prince smiling at him, hands on his chin as he stood before his wardrobe.

"Is something wrong your highness?" He felt the need to ask even though the sight before him proved nothing to be wrong, wiping his hands along his trousers.

The Prince pressed a hand to his forehead, shaking his head in disagreement. He opened the oak doors to his wardrobe, looking at Iker with mischief written on his face. "I don't think these will fit me anymore. Don't you think I've gain some pounds?" The prince outstretched his arms to the side to let Iker examine him, "I want to remove the ones that can fit from those that cannot."

Iker kept his thoughts at bay, not wanting to be rude to the Prince. The Prince was as fine as any other day. His love for food and his sword training with Commander Amir kept him in tip top shape. Iker knew that and so did the Prince. What is he up to?, Iker thought.

The Prince for some reason had the need to provoke Iker. The thought of them being friends was deemed impossible, Cormac was the future King and Iker was just another servant that could be replaced. The first time Prince Cormac utter the word friend to Iker, he thought he was running a joke. As days turned into years, Iker knew it wasn't a joke. The saddened look in his eyes when Iker refused a friendly relationship with the Prince.

He's already received the cold shoulders of many other servants. Saying he was kissing the bum of the Prince, receiving special treatment from the Prince himself. Iker ignored it, knowing he was only doing his job, not kissing the Prince's bum.

"I need you to try these on so I can separate them." Prince Cormac said, pulling out his personal tailored outfits. "We're the same size so it shouldn't be a problem."

Iker remained in his spot. His built was much smaller than the Prince's. With no constant physical training his muscles were not present, with no board shoulders and taller frame. They were no where near the same size. "Don't stand over there, I can't do this all by myself." Cormac waved him over. "I'm already tired as it is to try them on myself."

Iker proceeded over, not feeling comfortable with what the Prince was doing. His clothes were tailored by the best tailor in the Kingdom, made from the finest of materials. The Prince got a new fitting each month, this was unlike him to do. Prince Cormac pulled on Iker's shirt, pulling it up to reveal his smooth skin. Iker panicked, slapping away the Prince's hand as he backed away, his cheeks burning with red.

"Iker..." Prince Cormac trailed.

Iker bowed his head in apology, "I'm sorry your highness. I don't expect for you to pardon my rudeness, if anyone had seen us they would think that you're-- they would think something vile." Iker kept his head low, his hands shaking as he gripped his trousers. "I'm beyond sorry Prince Cormac."

"They would think I'm what?" Prince Cormac asked, his mind only fixated only on that rather than Iker's apology. He made way towards Iker, startling him with each step. "They'll think I'm what?" His voice rose startling Iker more.

"I'm sorry but I can't say." Iker replied. "It was a slip of the tongue, your highness."

Cormac sighed, turning back to his wardrobe. "Raise your head Iker. I shouldn't have done that, I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry Iker." the Prince beat Iker before he could say anything. "I don't want to hear it. Let's try these on."

As such the Prince had Iker tried on all the clothes he owned. Ending up with a basket filled with clothes the Prince gave him. It was only then that Iker realized the Prince's goal. The other servants will surely add to the list of things they already called him. Iker's room was void of his roommate when he pushed the door opened, the hinges squeaking, signalling his arrival. Iker settled the box on his bed, looking at the clothes inside. He feared wearing them would draw too many attention.

Iker allowed his hair to fall just above his shoulders. Holding his brown hair between his finger, he knew he need a haircut. Iker decided to inform Dash, his roommate to give him a haircut. A swift use of the scissors and he'll feel brand new. Iker chuckled at the rumbling of his belly. After a bath he would head to the dinning hall for the servants. Hoping they caught something well and delicious for dinner. The door to his bedroom swung open, a worrisome Dash came in.

He ran towards Iker, holding him by the shoulders as he shook him, "The King is coming." he said.

Iker's eyes widen, why would the king venture to the lowest level of the castle?. Dash paced back and forth, rubbing his forehead. "What did we do?"

"We didn't do anything. The king might just want to tell us something." Iker assured him, not too convinced himself.

"He could just send a servant or a guard to do that." Dash spoke, stopping when he heard the squeaking of numerous doors along the corridor. They looked at each other before heading out of the room.

The king walked the halls with his head held high in confidence. His aura depicting one of true power. The servants bowed their heads, a few shaking as he walked by. The King was an admirable man for many, his firm hold on the Kingdom keeping it together. Iker knew the man was a devil behind his mask, a man he could never defy.

The King stopped before Iker, "Come with me." he ordered, leaving as soon as he spoke the words.

Iker looked up at his retreating back, all eyes on him. Dash gave him a thumbs up before he left. Iker knew not as to why the King wanted to speak with him. Did he got word of him hitting the Prince? Iker ascended the stairs, silently following the King as he chewed on his bottom lip. Iker noticed that they were heading to the King's working quarters. He stood with his hands crossed in front. The King had his back turned, looking at a large flag on the wall with the Seridina's crest. The golden wings that Iker knew nothing of.

"How close are you with my son?" The King finally spoke.

Iker was confused by the question, answering was the best option. "I'm nothing but his servant."

King Rhett let out a deep laugh, frightening Iker. He didn't say anything after, lifting the Flag that hung on the wall. He pressed a section, the brick sinking into the wall as it slowly slid across. A stairway leading into the darkness revealed itself, a single lit torch to the side, "Follow me."

Iker swallowed his fears and followed King Rhett. The spiral stairs seemed to have no end. Iker slipping a few times as they descended. King Rhett placed the torch to the side. Iker bubbled with fear when he saw a cell, a man sitting inside. It was hard to tell if he was alive or dead, or even who it was. The torch only provided so much light. King Rhett walked towards Iker, taking ahold of his hands as he bind them to cuffs that hung from the wall.

"W-What are you doing?" Iker stuttered.

"I won't kill you. Commander Amir is a dear friend of mine, he thinks of you as his own. I'll only allow this much." King Rhett spoke.

"W-Why? I'm sorry for what I did to Prince Cormac." Iker cried, pulling the cuffs that rubbed against his skin.

"Indeed you are." King Rhett chuckled. "I'm doing this to protect my son. I'll punish you with my own two hands." he took up a whip, testing its strength. "You should've kept your mouth shut about Garrett District. I'll punish you before you say anything about Area Fifteen."

"I didn't say anything." Iker lied, unable to stop himself from crying. He was tricked and scared.

"Don't lie to me!" King Rhett roared, hitting Iker across his bare chest. A painful cry left his lips, blood dripping to the ground from his fresh wound. "You won't taint my son. I'll protect him from the sinners of this Kingdom." With each word he hit Iker harder and harder.

Iker cried, hoping someone would help him. The Prince's smile flashed in his mind, his words of friendship beginning to fade. "I'm sorry." Iker muttered before everything he believed upon till now dwindled.

The man in the cell bit on his nail down to the flesh. The screams of the young man haunting him along with King Rhett's words. He closed his eyes, his hand tracing along the scar on his chest. He needed to escape the cell and Seridina. He needed to speak with the King of Laqum.

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Present day, Friday.

Prince Cormac kept staring at his bedroom door, awaiting the arrival of Iker. He was anxious to see Iker in the clothes he gave him. The Prince had seen him sewn back together his clothing more times than he could count. Prince Cormac couldn't help but frown when Iker was late. The early bird was never late in waking the prince.

Cormac had a few plans of his own on this very day. He ran towards his balcony, his robe becoming undone. A wide grin took form on his lips as he looked at Area Fifteen. "I'll see what you hold inside." he jutted his index finger out at the Fortress.

The opening of his bedroom door caught his attention. In came Iker, the basket of clothes Cormac gave him in hand. "Someone slept late." the prince said, crossing his arms.

His hands fell to the side when Iker turned to face him. His breath caught in is throat. Iker avoided the Prince's gaze, his eyes evident that he was crying and his face pale.

"What happened to you Iker?" The prince ran towards Iker, holding him by the arms. Iker winced from pain, his whole body swore.

"I can't accept these." Iker said, his voice was breaking, his throat sore from all the crying.

"I don't care about the clothes," Cormac took the basket from Iker and threw it to the side. "What happened to you?"

Iker pushed pass the Prince, taking up the fallen clothes and placing them back in the basket. "I'm sorry for being late your highness." Iker spoke, ignoring the sharp pains whenever he moved.

Prince Cormac hit the vase off the table from anger. Iker flinched as it collided with the floor. "You can talk to me Iker, aren't we friends?"

"No," Iker denied. "We aren't."

Prince Cormac didn't know how to respond. Iker knew the moment that the whip collided with his body that he could never be friends with the Prince. That they stood on different levels, King Rhett made that very clear. Iker held back the need to cry, "Please refrain from saying that we're friends, and also asking questions that don't involve my duties."

King Rhett made it clear, his son, Prince Cormac was set to be the future king. Iker was just a lowly servant who should keep his mouth shut.

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