Hari put on his clothes, awkwardly reminded of the man that sat before him as he wrapped his arms into the sleeves and feeling his pants snap around his waist. Hari took a moment to look at the boy who sat with his back to him. The first thing Hari noticed was that he wore a crown; a stunningly crafted piece of jewelry that shone in golden flashes. 

The small details of its engravings were shown in great detail in the mass of his dark locks. Its glimmer gave him a start of an unjustified nostalgia- he noticed the jewels were the same colors of red, yellow, and white of the flowers that used to grow when he first arrived in the forest. He didn't know why he was drawn to this intruder, but that didn't stop him from taking a step forward.

The man's ears poked from the side of his head, dark and round, and as his eye ran down his neck, he found a red formal shirt with a white cape that flowed from his neck just over the golden plates and tassels that cupped on top of his broad shoulders. There was a pattern on his cape that was hidden from the wrinkles in its folded state on the ground. The thought of dirt against this white, beautiful fabric made Hari concerned whether he would need to reimburse him for ruined garments. 

He had almost literally nothing in his ownership, so it made his mind race in panic. The mysterious boy's white elbow length gloves wrapped around his whole arm, and his boots did the same at the knees over dark pants, truly the garments of a man who had the world at his fingertips, a man who promised to take him away from here.

This boy clearly knew Hari was here, but he seemed too charming and important to be here for no reason. His apprehension was only kept in check from the bird who now bobbed about as carefree as always on the perch of his hand, chirping a lullaby as they both waited for him to dress. He knew the boy was being particularly gentle and nurturing by the way he naively sat waiting, playing with a bird as he did so. He was very charming and innocent, Hari admitted. But it was a charm and an act that demanded so obviously a search for something he needed that Hari supposedly had.

Of course he couldn't imagine what use he could be to him, but he was alluring nonetheless- maybe it was the fact he hadn't seen another person since Nanny vanished. She would have disapproved of Hari talking to this boy, and he knew why. Hari, unused to company, let alone that of an important man, decided to continue carefully in case the bird's judgement of good character was misplaced.

He was about to tell him that he was clear to turn around, but Simba spoke first.

"Are you ready, Princess? I would love to properly meet you."

He let out a little chuckle as the bird jumped from his hand back to his head, and looked back at Hari in anticipation.

Princess.

The word rang about in his head. This boy thought he was a woman, and his whole purpose was to rescue him from the forest. Of course Hari knew there was no princess here, and the likelihood of there ever being one was low enough to be a laughable suggestion, so he likely has the wrong place. But he would be done with him if he knew the truth, so he wouldn't tell him. He just had to keep him facing the way he was.

"Before we meet, I need to know who you are and why you're here." Hari said shakily, unsure of a better excuse to keep him turned. "You trespass here into my home and I want to know why."

He tried to sound feminine while out of the immediate mask of the waterfall, but it truthfully sounded like he had never spoke before in his life while trying to maintain a certain pitch. His cheeks turned red. He knew he sounded so stupid.

"You have fair demands," the boy said in a strong yet gentle voice. There was an accent in his speech, but he couldn't place it other than the fact it was insatiably smooth escaping his lips.

"To make sure there is no peeking, keeping our backs to each other seems fair too." He patted the ground behind him as a gesture to join him. The bird sang. Hari, cautious of turning his back to a complete stranger, inched forward until he lowered to the ground and felt his back rest against his. The boy then tilted his head back to gently rest against his own. Hari paused, scared of touching his skin, but realized their hair blocked direct skin contact. He leaned into him. He felt warm.

The boy had a steady voice that was soft still that Hari couldn't help but admire.

"My name is Simba Adofo, Prince of Sanitatem." The forest shook with his booming words, roaring proud and fierce from where he sat, yet the bird still sat peacefully at the crest of his head.

"I came here to take you away from this place, and bring you home to my father to make you the Queen of the kingdom. I know that seems like a lot, but in my family's tradition, it is customary to take up a bride of our King's choice before the crown is transferred over. He requested you."

"Why would he request me?"

"He chose you because he thought I needed to prove my worth to my kingdom. If I succeeded in rescuing you, I could then be given the throne. And by how much this little guy likes you, I'm sure my father has good taste."

Darwin jumped from shoulder to shoulder, waiting for Hari to reply.

"His name is Darwin," Hari said smiling.

"Well I like him. And I like you. May I escort you to your new home?"

"I am not in need of rescuing. Nothing has happened here for years."

"If nothing has happened here, why do you stay?"

Hari looked up to the sky through the leaves of the trees, not sure how to answer such a question. The pegs, the forest, the daily routine meant nothing to anyone but him. How was he going to communicate such an invalid imprisonment to someone like Simba without incriminating himself? Hari hadn't a clue.

"Fair is fair," Simba prodded. "I told you why I'm here, I would love to know the same for you. Its bound to be far more interesting."

Hari took in a deep breath. The bird scampered over his shoulder and gave a supportive bob.

"I.. I'm-"

"Simba look out!"

From the side of the forest came clanking of metaled suits, flashing glimmering swords and crests that bared the resemblance of a golden lion on a field of red, with two crossed spears behind it. "He's cursed!"

Hari got up in a panic, seeing units of silver close in around him. He backed away from Simba, watching him rise from the place he sat slowly, the river of white flowing from his shoulders unfolding out of its jumbled pile of cloth into a smooth curtain that outlined the strong stature Simba hid under his slouched position. As he rose and the cape dangled clear without obstruction, he could see a red lion on a field of white showcasing valiantly and boastfully the same crest as the soldiers that now collected to his side as a united front in Hari's direction.

"He?"

Simba asked slowly under his breath, barely heard over the roaring falls, piercingly loud now in this terrifying silence. The charming softness of his accent turned vicious and Hari recalled the image of the forest as a graveyard. He always knew he would be it's final victim.

Simba turned to face Hari. The Prince was radiant with rich skin, with dark and bold eyebrows that hung low over his eyes that glowed like fire, angry and wild. His face was broad, a jawline as fierce as his face. His lips curled into a snarl, bringing to life the beast on his back with a ferocious growl, claws out and ready to shred.

Darwin was gone now. He must have feared the lion. Hari should have listened to Nanna. Instead, he was forced to the ground, limbs bound together, and a sac placed over his head paired with a rope tied around his neck, coarse and dry against his skin.

"It was disgusting. It came so close to touching me" Hari heard Simba scowl through the darkness. "Tie it up. We will dispose of it so it can't fool anyone else."

Hari heard footsteps fade slowly.

"I shouldn't have let it play with me. Those gloves are all the proof I need to have it's head on a stake"

Hari was left in silence and blackness on the ground. The faint clanking of the metaled generals were the only indication he was being surveyed and that was enough to keep him on the ground. Motionless with tears staining the big fiber sac, he stayed still waiting for the inevitable. He should have known better than to trust the Prince. The bird clearly had poor judgement to behave so vulnerable to a lion who has no business affiliating himself with such a lowlife. He sat waiting for who-knows-what to happen to him, but it wasn't an account of so much of what, but when.

"The King was right about the boy." said one of the generals, accompanied by metal sounds as he moved slightly. "Hes exactly where he said he would be."

"Now we just need to convince Simba to save his execution for the city. That's the only way we can get him back to his father in one piece." There was a brief, deep chuckle from him.

Hari didn't understand what they were talking about, nor did he really care. He just sat there until the footsteps returned.

"Let's get this over with so we can return to the castle and tell my father of his mistake." Simba's voice growled, still low with anger. "I can't believe I wasted all this time coming here, doing this mission to execute a cursed freak," he rambled. "We have these at home. I could have just took one from prison and did this at the castle. My father better have a second marriage option or I'm taking his crown myself."

There was a sound of a sword exiting it's sheath. "Place his neck on the fireplace ledge so I have a clear swing. We will bring his head back as a token of the mission's success." Hari felt a wall of tears as they filled his eyes, but he didn't know whether he was sad or overjoyed. No more forest. No more pegs. No more tower. His routine would end, but he rued the way he would leave; at the hands of someone who hated his guts.

"But the King stated returning home empty handed is not an option if you want to succeed him." said one of the generals, almost too quickly. Hari noticed it was stale and hollow of authenticity. It was a practiced sentence. That detail brought Hari out of his crying enough to pay attention to the conversation. Even with limited human interaction, he lied enough to Nanna when he was younger about the journal and various other deviations from his routine. He knew what falsehoods sounded like.

"Won't the head do? Its enough to show it was far from a Princess."

"A live specimen may be more of a reciprocation of the mission," the soldier spoke again too quickly.

"Then what do you suppose we do with it?" Simba insisted, annoyance on the verge of his voice. "We can have it roaming around spreading it's illness."

"We should return to the castle with it and have a public execution," said the other, more convincing than his counterpart. "Your devotion to your father's cleansing will surely name you King of Sanitatem."

There was a pause, briefly followed by the sound of steel scraping as he put away his sword.

"Fine. Keep it tied up and put it in the carriage. That carriage was made for a worthy presence, but it's all we have. We will just burn it afterwards. What a waste of money. And make sure not to touch it's skin. I would hate to put down a trusted squad because of a mistake."

Hari was violently brought to his feet, and guided down the path he could almost envision through the sac over his eyes from traveling it everyday. He was hoisted aggressively into the wagon, surprisingly soft and comfortable. He scooted himself to the corner like a scared and injured animal, which he might have well been, and heard the wagon door slam shut. Outside, he heard the faint preparations of the squadron under his heavy breathing.

He was going to die from a different source of his imaging. The forest was his projected grim reaper, but instead this "Simba", a previously unknown man, would be taking the breath from his lungs. Simba seemed like such a docile man away from his comrades and his castle. He genuinely seems to enjoy the forest. Too bad that delight didn't carry on towards Hari.

Hari suddenly wished he was the Princess Simba sought. Living a lavish life in a castle with a prince seemed far better than dying at his hands. He could imagine their wedding; soft formal clothes against colorful roses bound around an arch they would say their vows under. A man and a woman, living their days caring for their sole heir child, watching them take their first steps, hearing their first words, growing old and passing the kingdom on with a warm smile and tear of pride. What a life a Prince would lead. Simple and safe.

His daydream ended as a hand suddenly ripped the sac from his face violently, the harsh fabric stinging his skin as it filed off his head in a quick snap of a wrist. Hari's surprise was mostly due to the fact that he thought he was alone in the wagon. Once his eyes adjusted to the wagon's light, he saw Simba sitting before him with dark brows furrowed over angry eyes. Hari recoiled against the wall, slinking as far from his future executioner as possible. Simba looked amused from his fear.

"It doesn't matter what happens now. You have nowhere to go." His voice was low and eerie. Hari stared at him, face frozen in an anxious tension. "I enjoyed our little chat. Too bad we got cut short before you could tell me anything useful."

Despite the dark shadows of the wagon oozing over his face, Hari could still see a spark of warmth in his eyes. It was distracting to his otherwise terrifying demeanor.

"Maybe if you spill the information I need, we will feed you a nice meal before we use your head as a spike warmer."

Hari paused, his panicked heaving against the thick air was too much to handle alone.

"Maybe you need some... motivation?"

A crooked smile broke over his face as the gleam of a small dagger flashed as it was placed at his throat. "I don't care if my father doesn't have your whole body. Your head will do just fine in my books."

The blade's edge was cold, as if he could feel the icy finger of death itself. Hari felt a bead of sweat fall down the side of his head.

"What do you need to know?" Hari whimpered.