Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Chapter 1

Walking to work was always difficult for Arlen. People on the street would whistle at him or make sexual remarks. It made him want to throw up. During this time of the year, the air was cold and bitter, the chill clinging to his body. He couldn't afford much, and his simple sweater wasn't enough. The job he kept at the bakery barely paid the rent and taxes. Let alone clothes. But, he got free food there and it was warm inside, so he kept working there. He got to decorate the cakes. They were luxuries he couldn't afford, but he loved looking at them and licking the sweet frosting off his gloves once he was done. He was known for his pleasant smile as he greeted customers and often received tips for his service. But of course, his boss took his tips instead. Arlen didn't mind much. His boss had a family to care for and probably needed it more than he did. Arlen lived alone. His parents had both died of illness when he was 16 so he's been fending for himself since. He's now 19.

A short man, dressed up in rich furs that Arlen's body craved stood in the center of the street, on top of a box, announcing orders. Arlen sighed at the sight, thinking the new king was raising the taxes once more. He thought it was bad with the old king, but in the first several months of the new king, there have already been 3 uppings in the taxes. Stopping to listen in, he's shocked.

"Hear, hear! The king has an announcement! His majesty himself is coming into the town! Clean up your shops! Only the best for his majesty!" The town crier shouted. Arlen's eyes widened. The king? Oh wow! I've got to prepare some cakes! Arlen thought as he broke into a run, ignoring the town crier as he announced daily news. He reached the bakery, seeing a note left on the counter.

"Arlen, I'm going to be out for several days. Please take care of the bakery for me. I will pay you a bit extra if you do well! - Mikros" Arlen sighed. If only Mrkros was here now, he'd be hustling around trying to clean stuff, getting ready for the king. But, of course, the royal family was far better than the old bakery. Then again, that didn't stop Arlen from getting his hopes up. He decorated cakes in a hurry, not even stopping to lick the frosting.

The whole day was very quiet. Only a few customers dropped in, but only to buy some bread. Arlen spent his time putting cakes on display and cleaning every inch of the shop. By the time it was closing, he was proud of himself. "I would be a good maid" He chuckled to himself, as he started preparing to close. Out through the window, the winter's night was quite beautiful. Especially from a fire-lit building. But Arlen dreaded the thought of walking home in that, only to be cold inside his unheated house. Questioning it, he decided he could just stay in the bakery for the night.

He pulled cushions from the soft chairs and went to the storage room to grab an old flour sack. To Arlen, this was a luxury. He never had a soft bed, and his blanket was thin and worn. He laid down, facing the fireplace, as he drifted off to the crackling sound.

The next morning, he woke up feeling well-rested. The fire had burnt out and he stood up, unruffling his clothes, running his hand through his hair. He then picked up his makeshift bed, placing the items where they went.

The king is coming today!

The thought burst into his mind as he remembered. His stomach felt full of butterflies as his mind filled up with worries. He fiddled with his hand and paced the room. Finally, he decided to step outside. The streets were crowded. All staring at a carriage. It was drawn by two white horses and had the royal emblem on the side. The king's carriage! It finally pulled to a stop near the bakery. A well-dressed man opened the door, and stepped out of the carriage, lowering the stairs, laying down some sort of mat afterward. Arlen stared at the sight, confused. Another man stepped out, wearing a fur cape on top of a simple shirt, but the material looked expensive to Arlen. Looking around, he realized everybody was bowing, and quickly followed suit.

That's the king? Why isn't he all dressed up fancy? Where's his crown? Arlen thought, not realizing that everyone had stopped bowing. He stood up straight, watching as the young king walked into the clothing store across the street with a facial expression of boredom.

The king had light skin with a slight tan. His hair was dark brown and laid at his shoulders. His eyes were an orangish-red, and they bore into anything he looked at. Meanwhile, Arlen had a much softer look. He had pale skin, but not pale enough to make him look sick. His hair was blonde and went to his shoulders as well, but he put it up in a bun. His eyes were a grey-blue and gave off the feeling of patience and kindness. The main difference between the two boys was their race. Arlen was an elf. The king was human.

As an elf, Arlen was petite. He had been mistaken for a girl more times than he could count. His ears were long, but unlike most elves, his ears didn't point straight up. They were kind of tilted up and to the side. His ears expressed his emotions as an animal would. They would perk up if he was excited. The king, on the other hand, whose name Arlen didn't know, was quite tall, with a strong build. It was intimidating.

Once the king and the well-dressed man, who Arlen supposed was his servant, disappeared inside the store, he went inside, comforted by the warmth. He stood behind the counter, hoping he would get the chance to meet the king. While waiting, he started mixing batter for a cake. After setting it in the oven, he washed his hands. He heard the door open and froze in his steps. A bored voice commanded,

"I want a cake. You, elf, serve me." Arlen turned around and his jaw dropped. The king was in his store with his servant. Up close, he was even more extreme. It made Arlen feel like his eyes could turn him to stone. Scrambling to figure out how to react, Arlen bowed, before standing up straight.

"I- Your Majesty! Yes, of course! W-What would you like?" Arlen stuttered out, fumbling with his hands. The king looked at him with an amused expression.

"Stop stuttering. Speak clearly. I want your finest cake." He said, still sounding annoyed. Arlen's face turned bright red as he nodded, bending down and opening the display case that held the cakes. He grabbed the most expensive cake he saw and took it out. It had iced flowers lining the sides and had lavender vines reaching across. It was two-tiered. He set it on the counter.

"T-This is our finest cake, your majesty. Would you like this one?" He looked up at the king, but instead of looking at the cake, he was looking at Arlen with an unreadable expression.