The Fourth Fort was like a maze.
Though the man has brought Cleus to a place far from paradise and what seems to be the most dangerous area of the capital, the boy held on and still chose to trust the man. Following him through the tight alleyways.
During their walk, Cleus was made witness of the dark side of the capital. In the books, Dhara was like a paradise. A place of opportunity. Yet the place he was standing on showed a contrast of the flowery words in the books he read.
To think that people were lucky enough to live in dilapidated houses since there were people who were poorer than them—people who were forced to settle on the side of the roads with nothing in their pockets, dragging sacks so that they'd have something to lie on.
"People would trade places to live the life I deem to be like hell."
"Your highness…"
"Yes?"
"You don't have to feel guilty. Yes, nobody deserves such an unfortunate life, but you didn't deserve to live in that kind of life as well."
Cleus never knew he needed those words. A wave of relief washed away from his shoulders.
But still, he couldn't brush off the uneasy feeling. As someone from royalty—even if he didn't choose to be one—he felt responsible.
"Just through this alleyway, your highness. Just one last alleyway.", Pieter spoke, gesturing toward an even narrower space. "We could go through the other way but… this path is better."
The two had to walk sideways through the alley, with Pieter leading, of course.
The other end seemed brighter and noisier. Somehow, it was filled with laughter, making Cleus wonder what kind of place was on the other side.
When the two finally got out, Cleus had yet again found himself in a place he had never ever seen nor heard of.
There were men laughing with their faces flushed. Their arms were around a woman or two who were also laughing beside them. The women wore clothes that he's never seen.
Sleeves that barely cover their shoulders. Their bosoms were exaggeratedly pushed up. Corsets that were supposed to be inside their torsos were outside instead. This sight was a stranger to the boy. Despite not knowing so well, he knew that he was not supposed to be there.
"What kind of place have you brought me?", Cleus spoke, his eyes looking at Pieter suspiciously.
"Ah… Uhm… Welcome to the Red District.", the man replied nervously.
The boy started to doubt if this was a place where one could actually eat a hearty meal. It seems another kind of 'meal' is famous here.
But then again, the smell of food is present in the air.
"We won't be frolicking around these shops. Our destination's at the end of the road."
Pieter led the young prince through the wild crowd, his hand covering the boy's eyes and ears when needed—but most of the time, he mostly shielded the child's hearing. In contrast to the place where they arrived, the road was filled with people. Though there were still people of poverty lying on the streets. There were business stalls. It was hard to believe that this was still the Fourth Fort. Compared to what he saw on the other side, this side was lively. Most people had smiles on their faces.
But the boy could see through their smiles.
"They're fake… They may be smiling ear to ear, but their eyes were uncomfortable."
"Pieter? Why do they smile when they are clearly not happy?", the young prince asked, tugging the mage's cape.
The man looked at the boy and sighed. A child's curiosity is limitless, and as much as possible, their curiosity should be fed. But something like this is too early for a little boy to know. But considering what kind of child Cleus was, the man has no choice but to be honest.
"Because they have to live. You see, one has to hide their true feelings in order to go through life.. Life can be so hard, and some people have no choice but to smile through it."
"Can we help them in any way?"
The man patted the boy's head and let out a slight chuckle.
"You are very kind, your highness. I bet there are no other children who are as kind as you.", Pieter spoke, his eyes softened as he looked down at the boy. "Oh, we're here."
At the end of the road, stood a quiet tavern—too quiet that Cleus could not hear anything inside. An unusual encounter for the boy.
"Pieter, did you still cover my ears with your… what do you call it again? Mana?"
The man's eyes widened upon hearing the boy's question.
"How'd you know I was covering your ears with my mana?", the man asked, perplexed.
"Hm? Anyone would feel that if something like that was very close to them.", Cleus scoffed, unaware of what he did.
"That was suppressed mana… Even more, it was MY suppressed mana. Nobody would be able to feel that even if they tried!", Pieter kept to himself.
"Is the child sensitive to mana? That's a good ability to have but that is if he trained to be one. I don't think this child trained though; he barely even remembers the name 'mana'. Being sensitive to mana… isn't always a good thing."
While Pieter was busy overthinking, Cleus's eyes toured the entire exterior of the place. A plain building made with sturdy wood. Windows that were slightly blurry. Its signage creaked as it lightly swayed because of the wind.
The sign had a white rose painted on it. No words written. Just a simple painting of a rose.
"Anyway, why did you cover my ears with your mana? Is there something I should not be hearing?", the boy asked so innocently, looking genuinely curious.
"There… are sounds in this area better left unheard. Anyway! Are you not starving? Let's go in!", Pieter spoke, wrapping up the topic hastily.
A bell rang from above when they opened the door. The place was not well-lit, but that did not hide the face of the person who was standing behind the wooden counter.
It was a beautiful woman. Whose red locks draped over her shoulders. She was more beautiful than the entertainers outside. Her skin reminded the boy of the warm milk tea he made secretly in the kitchen. She was wiping a glass, but soon halted her actions when she heard them enter.
"Welcome to the White Rose! How may I-… Pieter.", the woman uttered, her eyes meeting Pieter's before shifting to Cleus.
Cleus shyly looked down when they looked at each other.
"Hello, Ava. Looking lovely as always.", Pieter greeted.
The woman came out from behind the counter and walked towards them. She lowered herself to the child's level and looked at the boy with a soft smile.
"Hello. I'm Ava. Ava Wolfe. Pieter never mentioned your name to me. What's your name, little fella?", she asked, her tone so accommodating.
The boy looked at Pieter, wondering if he should tell her. In response, the man merely nodded with a smile. It wasn't really clear what Pieter wanted, but Cleus knew what he was going to say.
After a year of planning to leave the palace, Cleus had already planned how he would live his life outside—even his name.
"Clay. My name is Clay.", the boy replied, his voice almost like a whisper.
"Well… It's nice to meet you, Clay.", she spoke, standing up, her eyes now directed at Pieter's. "You should've told me you were coming. Good thing I had no customers here."
The woman passed by the two, locked the door, and went behind the counter, brushing aside the curtains that led to the kitchen.
"Go sit at any table you want!", she told them.
The two sat at the table closest to the counter. As Pieter settled in casually, he noticed the child struggling to climb onto his seat. This was a bar, after all — a place meant for adults. The sight reminded Pieter, once again, just how small Cleus really was.
"Do you need help?", Pieter asked, trying his best to hold his laughter.
"N-no! I can manage!", Cleus declined, obviously having a hard time.
The man stood up, lifted the child, and gently settled him into his seat.
"Uhm… Thank you."
The man returned to his seat and looked at the boy, resting his cheek against his palm.
"So why Clay?"
"Shush! She'll hear!", the child whispered loudly, his face panicked.
"She won't. Don't worry.", Pieter spoke.
And he was telling the truth. Cleus had felt something heavy for a while. It turns out the Pieter has set up something around him. Like a barrier of some sort.
"So why Clay?", the man asked again.
Cleus looked down, his hands fidgeting under the table. Not that the reason was something to hide for, but it was something that only he and his mother knew about. Therefore, a secret he held preciously.
"My father was the one who named me Cleus. It meant "a future set in stone". It's not a bad name—honestly, from someone who barely cares about me, it was very generous of him to think out a great name. However, I disliked it.
It's like a name that tied me down.
My mother, to comfort me, called me Clay from then on. The name literally meant the earthen material people would use to make pots; the clay people molded. With that name, she says, my future is not something set in stone anymore but rather something I would mold.
The maids thought that was just a shortcut of my name, so no rumors went around. It is disrespectful to change the name the emperor chose for you.
Even if one is his wife or the mother of his child…"
The man leaned back slightly, the answer to the question he had asked so suddenly had so much depth than he had expected.
"Your mother… has a knack for changing names.", Pieter said after a pause, his voice quieter now. "It suits you."
The boy offered a shy smile, but it quickly faded as the sound of approaching footsteps reached the kitchen entrance.
It was Ava, carrying a tray of delicious food, walking towards their table with glee.
Pieter hastily dissipated the barrier and acted as if he did nothing unnatural, his hands interlocked together on top of the table.
"Food's here!", she announced, serving the plates one by one in front of them.
Cleus's eyes sparkled as he watched the food being laid on the table. It was as if they were glistening. All of them looked scrumptious.
"How could a tavern that serves such delicious food be so empty?", he wondered.
"Dig in!", the woman invited, sitting beside them.
Ava took the child's plate and scooped some food before giving it back to the boy. Cleus, though he looked ready to partake, found it difficult to eat.
In the palace, his food always looked scrumptious, but all of them were poisoned. He was forced to puke everything out in the end in secret and sneak into the garden to chew the flowers to neutralize the poison. Over time, even the sight of food has come to fill him with dread.
Suddenly, Pieter leaned over and scooped a bite from the boy's plate.
"Oh, this is delicious!", Pieter spoke, his mouth full.
"Pieter! You have your own plate!", the woman yelled, hitting the mage's shoulder.
"Ow! It's just that I had to eat the food you personally served!", the man pouted.
While the two bickered, Pieter looked at the boy and winked at him.
The boy noticed and mouthed the words, thank you, happily taking a bite.
While the three enjoyed their meals, Ava leaned sideways to Pieter and whispered in his ears.
"Does he already know?"
Unbeknownst to Ava, Cleus heard every word she said but chose to play the fool, continuing to eat his meal.
"No, not yet…"
"Eh?", Ava spoke, leaning back, her face confused as she faced Pieter.
The woman peeled her attention away from the mage and looked at the little boy with a smile.
"How do you like the food?", she asked.
The boy swallowed the food inside his mouth before making his reply.
"I've never tasted food so delicious. I can't believe this place is empty when this place serves good food."
The woman laughed when he heard the boy's reply, then placed her elbows on the table—her chin rested on top of her interlaced fingers.
"Anyway, how old are you right now?", she asked.
"I will be nine on the 21st day of the Second Season."
"That date's approaching very nearly. How exciting—a birthday coming so soon!", She smiled. "Would you like to spend your birthdays here? Of course, we won't force you."
Cleus was not one to think he would mistake a word he heard. But for some reason, one word struck him strangely.
"Pardon… Birthdays? Days?", the child questioned, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion.
Pieter let out a forced cough, set down his utensils, and looked at the boy with sudden seriousness.
"We were wondering if you'd like to live here from now on."
The question stunned Cleus into silence. His heart has never pounded so fast before—his face frozen in surprise.
"Pardon?"
.
.
.
[The White Rose, year 289]