They say love fuels the soul in such a manner one needs no other sustenance. 

I was putting this theory to the test by foregoing all meals that were offered to me. Not to the account of my curiosity about the veracity of the narrative, but because my stomach was filled to the brim with nerves and could not hold anything else. Something I hadn’t experienced in years.

Edmund had tried to force nourishment upon me multiple times, yet succeeded only once. The triumphant pea soup however, fed me for the whole of three minutes, after which it had overstayed its welcome and was evicted the way it had entered.

Ed wasn’t so gallant as to hold my hair as I stood heaving on the terrace. He did pat me on the back affectionately, which made me feel at least a little compassion from my solemn friend. And for a second, I got this warm feeling that he actually cared for my wellbeing. But I was swiftly returned to the cruel reality.

“Let’s walk around back, we don’t want word to spread that you’re ill.” He told me.

I glared at him through my thick coils of soiled black hair. “No, we wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize your anticipated income, now would we?” I bit.

“Viv, please. I AM concerned about your health. I hate it that you’re sick and all, but I’m trying to damage control here. You pay me to be your manager, so I’m managing. Doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.”

“You didn’t even hold my hair…” I lamented.

Edmund replied with a sigh. “Viv… You’re my client, my companion and my friend. But you’re a grown man, and I’m not holding your hair when you puke like you’re my pregnant girlfriend.”

“As if you’d even have a pregnant girlfriend.” I grumbled, not seeing why friends can’t help each other out when they need it.

“Not with you stealing all the viable women, I won’t.” He joked.

“So, this is your revenge, is it? You leave me to vomit all over my beautiful hair, so that you can get the ladies?” I chuckled, feeling a bit lighter.

Ed squeezed my shoulder and hummed his acknowledgement, smiling back at me.

“After tonight I will be off the market, and all the pretty damsels will be yours for eternity, I promise.” I told him.

“Careful, or I’ll hold you to it.”

“I sure hope those ladies like aging bald men with beer bellies.” I grinned at him. Edmund rolled his eyes and smirked back at me.

“I’m not that old, you jerk. Also, I’m sure a slightly retreating hairline is still sexier than dried regurgitated pea soup.”

I had to acknowledge the probability of truth in that statement. So, when I had taken a couple of deep breaths and was sure my stomach was either completely empty, or satisfied with the remaining contents, I went back inside to have a bath drawn.

Baths were truly one of mankind’s best inventions. After fire obviously, for a cold bath was just like sitting still in a very small lake.

The luxurious pampered feeling of sitting in a hot bath, washing one’s hair with fragrant and slightly expensive soaps, would never cease to amaze me. I remember the awe of the first such a bath that I had taken. And, while I was not by myself that first time, nor floating in such a relaxing manner, I had recognised the effect it had on my entire being. It had become my guilty pleasure ever since.

While I would not refuse any pretty lady or handsome lad that offered me a shared bath, I actually preferred to bathe alone. Floating in warmth, eyes closed and ears under the water to dull the senses, only focussing om the strong flowery scents and the feelings on one’s skin. Those moments I felt truly free. Free of the judging eyes of others. Free from expectations. Free from my stage persona.

Sometimes, when I lay in that slowly cooling water, I completely forgot about Prince Vivace and dreamed up an entirely different person instead. Just for a second. Then the water would get uncomfortable, and I’d call a maid and ask for more hot water. Thereby realising that the only reason I could, was the fact that I am, indeed, Prince Vivace. And that maybe it’s not so bad being me.

Today my bath was a little cramped, and slightly colder than I preferred. But as soon as I sunk my head under the water, my thick hair floating outwards like huge black tentacles, my nerves calmed, and I felt at peace again.

I washed myself thoroughly with the primrose soap I bought on the market we crossed last month. People normally assumed I bought soaps for either a girlfriend or wife, as if men were supposed to reek of sweat. But this saleswoman had taken one look at my hair and recommended a complimentary oil that would work wonders to tame the frizz that came with the autumn weather. I used it only for the lower half now, fearing using it near the scalp would make my hair look greasy, but it was very effective in rendering my extensive mane silky smooth.

As the water cooled, I felt reborn. Not in a sense that encouraged me to experiment with nutrition in any sort of way, but certainly invigorated. I dried myself carefully, then applied the oil to my locks. I wiped the remaining residue on my legs, figuring there was nothing wrong with silky smooth leg hair. The sensation lingered on my skin for a moment and made me smile.

Clad in a towel, my soiled clothes dropped in the bin for the washing lady, I left the bathroom to return to the room that was reserved for me. I passed two giggling maids in the hall, whose blushing stares I returned with a cheeky wink. Force of habit.

In the comfort of my own room, I turned over my wardrobe, to check which outfit would be most suitable for tonight. Just as I was pondering the line between alluring and racy, I heard a polite knock on my door.

I raised an eyebrow in slight surprise. Edmund never knocked like that. He’d just bang the door once and yell something. Hope welled in my chest, and, before my reason could catch up to me, I opened the door to let in my heart’s desire.

To my utter disappointment, it was only one of the maids from before. She stood there, blushing, swaying slightly on her feet, her hands clenched together like a shy maiden. Her gaze demurely fell down to the floor as soon as our eyes met, but the time they took traveling back upwards over my still mostly naked body was clue enough as to betray her true intent.

“Can I maybe help you with anything?” She asked, innuendo audible in her voice, before her gaze landed on my eyes. She had the audacity to bite her lip.

Now, I wouldn’t pretend to be immune to such charm. And the girl was fair, with a curved bosom and a slender neck, luscious blonde hair tied in a thick braid and large brown doe eyes. Her pouty lip bite did have its own attraction on top. And even though she was interrupting my sacred pre-show routine, in any regular situation I would probably have thought of something that required her immediate assistance.

Not today though.

Enticing as the young woman might be, her beauty was bleak compared to the sight I could not get out of my mind, her pretty eyes empty next to the charged gaze of my beloved. The appeal of her shapely body was nowhere strong enough to attract me now my heart was taken.

The realisation hit me square across the jaw. My mother hadn’t ‘saved herself’ for my father. There was just no way one could give themselves to another, once their soul had found its home.

“I do not require any assistance at the moment, thank you.” I told her politely, before closing the door.

Still a little shaken by this revelation, it also dawned on me that, if my beloved failed to show, I was completely done for.