“You requested my service, your highness?” Eliqinor said after knocking on the door he heard the grunt of his prince come from the other side. He himself had his duties to attend to as a knight, and the Crown Prince had interrupted his morning training routine. A maid came to see the fair-haired knight in a tizzy, as if Eliqinor was the young prince's keeper. They had tasked her with dressing the spoiled prince and he threw a fit. 

This was a common dance between the help and the prince. Shafir almost did nothing himself and he wouldn't even dare let the help service him. The bratty man always had to request Eliqinor's help, no matter if the other was busy or not. Eliqinor wondered if he was actually an over-glorified manservant for the prince and not a knight in service of the royal family. If the crown prince heard the knight was busy, he would throw a fit until they gave him what he wanted. Sometimes it felt like he was a doll that a small child felt comfortable with. Seeing the prince in such a way could lead to complications, but he knew how the other worked. They had been together for a very long time. 

"Just a minute!" The sound of things falling and crashing to the ground had Eliqinor feeling antsy as he waited behind the door. To say the crown prince was a klutz was an understatement. It seemed no matter where he went or what he did, he had the most awful luck. 

Eliqinor heard whispers of the servants saying that the prince must have been cursed, for there was no reason for him to be so clumsy. Little did they know how correct they were, Eliqinor assumed that was why the little prince had always been wary of the help. Afraid they may tell someone of the mark on his body and cause problems for the royal family. The only one who knew was Eliqinor, and it wasn’t as if he wanted to know. He did his best to hide the fact that he knew to ease the crown prince’s worries. Though he was sure that the prince already knew and thus why he seemed fine with Eliqinor serving him. How could Eliqinor not know? The prince and he had known each other since their youth. Happening upon Shafir being cursed had been an accident and if he hadn’t, Eliqinor wouldn’t have known. The prince wasn’t one to confide in others. 

The doors opened, and a messily dressed prince stood in front of Eliqinor. The knight sighed loudly and pushed the prince back into the room, quickly closing the doors behind them. As usual, he had to be the one to put the broken prince back together; he was the only one who could. Shafir knew this and danced around this issue every morning, letting Eliqinor push him into the chair in front of the vanity. A content sigh came from Shafir as his terribly tight and messy braid came undone by Eliqinor’s hands. His fingers ran through the sliver-white hair and undid the knots as he did so. Eliqinor knew Shafir was bad at almost anything he didn’t have an interest in, and he was even worse at taking care of himself. Of all the things Eliqinor did for the young prince, he was surprised that scrubbing his back in the bath wasn’t one of them. Not that the knight would’ve minded. 

He had feelings for the prince, after all. He could say it was more akin to love, but he had worked hard on not letting his emotions progress any farther than that. It would be bad to sully the prince's image for his own pleasure. The idolization he held for the prince would be frowned upon, even if he was from a high-ranking noble family. 

"You know I am a knight, not your personal servant," Eliqinor said as he did the prince's hair up into a ponytail. He didn't know how to do all that fancy stuff like the maids did and opted for something even Shafir could be happy with. His fingers tied a beat bow with a ribbon and his fingers lingered slightly as he touched the dark elf's beautiful nape. "You have lessons today." 

Shafir grunted and shifted in the chair, showing his displeasure at the mention of lessons. If he could, he would kiss Shafir's neck reassuringly to let him know it would be alright. Even if he hated his lessons. Perhaps Eliqinor needed lessons as well. Lessons in discipline. He needed to control himself and his wandering thoughts. It was only a thing in storybooks and he had to accept that. A prince falling for his knight? The fact that Shafir treated him more like a manservant helped dim those fantasies of Eliqinor's. 

"You know I hate lessons. Can't I just spend the day with you?" Shafir looked up at Eliqinor, who stood stiffly behind him. The prince's eyes were as purple as ever and they pulled at the knight's heart. He could dream though, with little consequence, he guessed, perhaps one day Shafir would see through him. If he could finally confess, that would make Eliqinor all the happier. Today was not that day. "I like it when we spar. It's much more entertaining than major trade and proper conduct with neighboring countries." Once again Eliqinor could feel those eyes, pleading, pulling him in, but he shook his head and closed his eyes. There was no way he could let the prince's beauty sway his judgment. 

"You know I can't allow you to miss your lessons. One day you will be the King. You do not want to put me or your loyal subjects in danger, do you?" Eliqinor peeked his eyes open to see the youthful elf slumped in his chair, and he groaned loudly. The prince loved having a sword in his hand more than some quill or stamp. Not only that, he dreaded sitting for long periods of time, but he had to persuade him to do his duties. Much like Eliqinor had to convince himself of the same and not look at the prince as anything more than his boss. Of course, it was difficult to do as he also really wanted to spar with Shafir. 

This sadly caused the knight to hold back in more than one way when fighting the young prince. His strength and speed could easily overpower the less skilled prince and that would lead to something worse. Eliqinor's thoughts were often loudest when Shafir was panting, his face dripping with swea- Eliqinor cleared his throat and flicked Shafir in the forehead. 

"Proper posture or you'll get a hump in your back." 

"I'll have you know! Anything I learn in that class will not be useful in the slightest!!" This was how the spoiled prince always acted when Eliqinor tried to talk some sense into him. He couldn't do much more than gently suggest that he go to lessons. While Eliqinor would feel the same way about such classes. He knew that Shafir would have to take up the mantle and put those lessons to good use. So it had to be done. Shafir quickly stood from his chair and faced Eliqinor. His hands fidgeted with the prince's collar of his shirt and felt his hands burn with desire. The gentle slope of Shafir's neck drew his blue eyes, and he had to use all his training from snapping. He really needed to find a maid to handle this, as his strength to resist was wearing thin. 

"My Prince. I think a high-collared shirt would be the most suitable for today's activities." While he didn't like to watch Shafir undress in front of him, it was better than being distraught all day with the prince's beauty on display. There was a whine from Shafir and he kicked his foot out to nail Eliqinor in the shin. A soft thud resounded when the prince's shoe met the leather armor that protected the knight. 

Eliqinor was used to it. It was a habit that Shafir had when he was frustrated or just tired. The manner had carried over from when they were young and the prince seemed to find comfort in making contact with the knight, even if it wasn't in the most polite manner. 

"Isn't it going to be especially hot out today?! What are you going to do? Fan me all day?" Shafir chuckled. Of course, he would think he was hilarious. There was no way a knight like Eliqinor would demean himself to a simple fan holder to cool Shafir off. As if he didn't already act as a manservant for the prince. Eliqinor would, though. If Shafir commanded anything from his knight, he would do everything in his power to fulfill his prince's wishes. He would even quarter himself and kneel at Shafir's feet. 

Eliqinor just wanted his prince to be as happy as possible. When he didn't answer, Shafir sighed and parted his beautiful lips, "Fine. I'll wear a high collar. Go pick out my outfit for today."

"As you wish, my Prince."