The sun was starting to dip below the horizon now, casting eerie shadows upon the cobblestone streets of Dondor’s back alleys. 

"Laurence!" A familiar voice echoed through the air, causing both the prince and his self-proclaimed knight to stop in their tracks. 

Barton came barreling around the corner from where the sounds of celebration had begun trickling back in, relief washing over his broad face as soon as he spotted his missing charge.

Ponytail immediately dropped Laurence’s wrist and took several steps back just as the older guard skidded to a halt, sweeping Laurence up into a protective embrace. 

"Thank the empire you're alright," Barton whispered into Laurence's ear, his breath ragged from the weight of his relief. "I've been searching everywhere for you! How could you run off alone so foolishly?"

"Sorry, Barton," Laurence mumbled, his cheeks flushing with guilt and mild embarrassment. "I just couldn't stand by and do nothing when I saw that woman get robbed." 

He glanced at Ponytail who stood silently, watching the exchange with an unreadable expression.

Barton stepped back with a sigh, clasping his hands tightly on Laurence’s shoulders as if resisting the urge to shake him. “I suppose that just because you’ve now reached the age of majority, it doesn’t mean your self preservation has risen with it,” he bemoaned.

It was a gentle admonishment, all things considered, but Laurence couldn’t help the urge to defend his maturity. 

"The robbery happened right in front of me!" Laurence insisted. “Of course I had to-”

Barton abruptly gave up on holding back and started shaking his stubborn royal charge back and forth in exasperation. “You let me handle it!” He retorted. “I was right there, Laurence! I would’ve apprehended them myself or reported them at the nearest guard station!”

Laurence snapped his jaw shut and stared ahead mulishly. Even as he was unable to come up with a proper retort, rebellion emanated from every pore of his body.

Barton shook his head at his prince’s stubbornness. "I'm just glad you're safe," he sighed, releasing Laurence from his grip. “What happened after you left my sight?”

Though still feeling petulant, the prince turned to introduce Barton to the one who saved him. However, he was shocked to realize Ponytail had vanished in the short time Laurence had been distracted. 

At first, confusion swirled within him from the man’s sudden disappearance, but it was quickly replaced by further frustration. 

Despite having barely spent any time with the enigmatic stranger, Laurence got the impression it was somehow in character for the blonde to depart without a word.

"Laurence?" Barton asked, following his gaze toward the space the young prince was currently glaring at as if the empty air had personally offended him. 

"I’ll explain later," Laurence replied hastily, turning back to the guard and holding up the retrieved coin purse. “For now, let’s give this back and return to the palace before it gets too late.”

*****

None were the wiser about the less than permitted foray into town.

Standing in the middle of his bedchamber, Laurence found himself surrounded by an entourage of servants. They fussed over him excessively as they prepared him for the night's more official celebration of his birthday.

Though he tried not to, Laurence’s thoughts kept drifting back to his irritatingly mysterious savior. 

It wasn't just Ponytail’s more cryptic behavior that lingered in his mind; it was the subtle yet persistent challenge to Laurence's beliefs that grated on his nerves. The memory of that smug smile and teasing tone made the prince clench his jaw in frustration.

Yet, despite the level of irritation the man stirred within him, Laurence found himself torn. Beneath his annoyance lay a flicker of curiosity, a silent tug towards the unraveling of a new enigma. There was a part of him that longed to peel back the layers, to uncover what hid behind that deceptively charismatic demeanor. 

"Stand still, please, Your Highness," one of the servants chided as they smoothed out the tailored jacket adorned with intricate silver stitching that hugged Laurence's frame. The rich navy fabric contrasted elegantly against the opulent silver embroidery that depicted Loros’ signature diamond crest in swirling patterns that shimmered under the soft glow of the palace lights.

"Apologies," Laurence murmured, bringing his attention back to the present.

As the final touches were being made to his attire, the wide doors to his chambers abruptly swung open.

King Alphedor barged into the room without a second thought, his domineering presence filling every inch of space. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed off the walls as he strode in with purpose, disregarding any need for formalities like knocking.

The servants immediately bowed and stepped aside, allowing the king to approach his son.

With a deep, resonant voice that filled the room effortlessly, King Alphedor addressed Laurence. "You look every inch the prince you are."

"Thank you, Father," Laurence replied, trying to stand taller under the man’s towering scrutiny.

With a nod, King Alphedor took the royal cape and crown from the hands of a waiting servant. He dismissed everyone with a mere gesture of his head, and all the servants dutifully marched out into the hallway, pulling the doors closed behind them to give the father and son privacy.

Alphedor lifted the crown up first, affectionately tucking a few strands of Laurence’s carefully styled hair behind his ear before placing it on his head. The king then swept around his son, draping the glittering floor length cape around his shoulders and clasping it closed in the front. 

Laurence felt the weight of the regalia pressing down on him, both physically and symbolically, as he thought about the new duties that awaited him.

"I believe now is a good time to introduce you to your coming of age gift," Alphedor announced, stepping back to appraise Laurence now that he was fully adorned in royal finery.

"Introduce?" Laurence echoed, perplexed by the wording. "What sort of gift is it, Father?"

The king did not respond, merely turning to look toward the entrance of the room. 

Most definitely on some sort of cue, the doors were dramatically thrown open once again as a very familiar stranger strutted inside.

The prince's breath caught in his throat; he was close to choking on his own saliva in shock as he struggled to maintain his composure.

No longer wearing the unique bodysuit from before, Ponytail was clad in the full white-gold and lilac accented palace knight uniform, complete with the traditional cape and cap only worn for ceremonial occasions. 

He exuded utter confidence and grace, standing there as if he owned Laurence’s personal bedchambers. 

"Ah, there you are," King Alphedor affirmed, gesturing toward the new arrival. "Come here and greet my son properly."

Gliding over smoothly, Ponytail took Laurence's hand and bowed deeply, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. Laurence repressed the strangled outrage that wanted to bubble up from his throat, squinting down at the blonde-haired knight as if he swallowed something sour.

"Your Highness, it is an honor to serve you," Ponytail stated, his amethyst eyes twinkling as he offered the prince a wide grin and a daring little wink.

Attempting not to betray any recognition of their earlier encounter, Laurence asked, “...And you are?”

"Avril, Your Highness," the knight replied, still grinning as he released the prince’s hand and returned to his full height. 

When the man did not elaborate further, Laurence turned to his father for a better explanation.

"On this momentous occasion of your coming of age, I have chosen a personal knight to accompany you on your upcoming journey. Avril has been trained for years in the art of protection and combat for the sole purpose of ensuring your safety at every turn.”

So Laurence’s birthday gift was a person? 

The realization that this mysterious man—this Avril—would be by his side for the most important adventure of his life unnerved Laurence greatly.

King Alphedor turned his attention back to Avril. “For tonight, your orders are to simply accompany my son to the banquet and serve as his guard.”

"As you command, Your Majesty," Avril replied mildly.

Apparently having conveyed all he planned to say, the King turned and left the room without another word to his flabbergasted son. 

Now that Laurence and Avril were alone, the atmosphere shifted. 

Seemingly no longer caring for formality, Avril dropped his decorum and leaned closer to Laurence, a mischievous glint in his gaze.

"Your Highness," Avril intoned, a hint of mockery lacing his words. "You must’ve gotten quite the thrill this afternoon, sneaking off to mingle with the common folk and chasing down thieves like a storybook vigilante.” The blonde snickered behind his hand. “I’m sure your complete lack of sensible judgment is just what your kingdom is expecting from its prince, newly come of age.”

Laurence bristled at the words, clenching his fists. "I will not tolerate wrongdoing in my kingdom," he retorted, his voice firm and unwavering. "If my actions came off as ill-advised, then so be it. I will prove my judgment is correct through how I lead in the future."

Avril's laughter burst through the room like a discordant bell, his eyes narrowing at the prince even as his smile stretched so far across his face it appeared painful. "Oh, Your Highness," he began, every word dripping with derision. "You're so concerned with injustice in town, yet you seem to be blind to what happens right under your very roof."

The air grew thick as Laurence's anger simmered, his hands trembling by his sides. "What is that supposed to mean?" He demanded. 

Ruby and amethyst pierced through each other, locked in a fierce battle of wills, until Avril broke their short staring contest first. 

"Nothing, nothing," he replied breezily, waving away Laurence's question. "So serious! I was only teasing, Your Highness." 

Laurence could feel his outrage building like a storm within him, but he caged it in. He spun away from Avril, no longer able to tolerate the sight of him. "I want Barton as my guard," he declared, his voice cracking with emotion. "He would never speak to me in such a way."

"So your criteria for a proper guard involves how respectfully they speak to you?" Avril mused, crossing his arms over his chest. "You truly trust him to protect you after the poor showing he gave this afternoon? Have you ever even seen your Barton in true combat, or are you merely content with the comforting illusion of his strength?"

The words sliced through Laurence like a newly sharpened blade. He had always relied on Barton, trusted him implicitly, but how much did he really know about the man's abilities?

"Enough!" Laurence snapped, his patience worn thin.

"Very well, Your Highness," Avril conceded, bowing low in mock deference. "As you wish."