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In the training grounds, the prince laughs with his friends— silly banter as the metal of their swords clash. While the prince is preoccupied with his training, Charlie has snuck away to get on with his other servantly chores— laundry; the prince has so many clothes (obviously, he is a royal) and goes through them faster than Charlie goes through his much smaller closet. The prince has the tendency to wear multiple outfits a day: night clothes, breakfast, morning classes, lunch, training, afternoon classes, dinner, night lounge, and night clothes— the cycle repeating every day— changing clothes to sleep in and for training makes sense, but all the other activities can be a single outfit. Charlie has no say in the matter as it is the prince's choice, and he must oblige. Though, Charlie would prefer not to have to do laundry so often as it is such a tedious chore and a time consumer— having to wash the training clothes is the worst— in Charlie's opinion, the prince sweats too much. Half the time the prince throws away the clothes, because of the impossible to remove sweat stains that are gained after a few uses. With the amount of money the prince has, the case of buying new clothes is like pocket change. Even now, as Charlie is elbow deep in soapy water, scrubbing the prince's clothes against the washboard, he wishes to be anywhere else.  A pretty place would be a field full of wildflowers— it would probably smell better too. Charlie has contemplated way too many times to steal a peg from the line to clip over his nose; The smell makes Charlie hate having to do laundry even more-- some people have decent-smelling sweat, like the kind you can smell but does not make your eyes water... Well, the prince sure does not have that. For someone who seems so perfect at times, Charlie questions how he has a crush on the prince at times like these.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I?" A voice comes into earshot as they walk closer to the individual sitting on a stool, whose tears are adding to the water in the tub between their legs.

Charlie lifts his head, and instantly the rest of his body follows to a stand, grabbing the towel by his side to dry his hands and cheeks. "Ah no-no, your highness, of course not. I-is everything okay?" Only servants are allowed in this part of the castle grounds as it is seen as unclean for royalty— even though it is literally where things get cleaned. "Why are you here?" Charlie says after a moment of the two staring at one another without a single word muttered, not even a sound or movement.

"Yes," The male says with a deep inhale as if sucking his soul back into his body. "I just wanted to see you."

"...But shouldn't you be in the training grounds, you know... training? You are on your probation period, so it wouldn't be good to go around missing." Charlie stands with his hands by his sides, fingers twiddling at the edges of the pockets on his trousers. He is not sure what to do as he usually doesn't discuss with the other princes often, definitely not out of the company of prince Nicholas.

"I suppose you are right." There is a slight sadness in the prince's words, almost as if he is disappointed with the outcome of the conversation. "I just wanted to say, thank you for getting me this opportunity." The prince runs a hand through his hair as he smiles shyly at the ground by Charlie's feet— his fingers glide smoothly through his soft, silky hair-- even from afar, you can tell that the prince takes good care of his hair; a handsome face framed by beautiful hair.

Charlie is feeling it again, the feeling he had when he first met the prince on the castle steps, the feelings he has experienced multiple times with prince Nicholas. Out of all the people Charlie could gain feeling for, it has to go and be another person of royalty who is way out of his league. "You don't need to thank me." As strong as the butterflies in Charlie's stomach are already, it only grows stronger as the prince thanks him. Charlie has been thanked before but by family and friends, not people who usually don't give him a second glance if they even gave him one in the first place— especially not with the same sincerity he is getting now. Prince Nicholas has said "thank you" to Charlie many times, though Charlie can most likely count on one hand the number of times they have had the same meaning as now.

The atmosphere becomes awkward again as the two say nothing, staring at the ground between them as it is uncomfortable to make eye contact. "I should um... I should get to my training now." The prince points with his thumb to the emptiness over his shoulder as he takes steps backwards, not ready to turn around as if there is something else he wants to say— the words stuck on the tip of his tongue, his mind stopping his mouth from opening.

"Your highness—" Charlie shouts as he reaches forwards to try and grab the prince before he trips over a washing tub— Charlie seems to have misjudged the force of his body as he only makes things worse; instead of saving the prince, he goes and pushes the prince down with his whole body.

The two groan as their bodies crash into the solid ground, and the knocked tub rolls in a sort-of semicircle before spinning on its base and standing back up, still. Charlie turns his attention away from the tub and back to the male underneath him.

"Um.." The prince moves his hands very awkwardly around Charlie's torso— unsure where to grab and if it's okay— until taking hold of Charlie's shoulders and gently shoving him onto the empty space of grass beside them. The prince clears his throat as he stands, brushing the dust and dirt from his clothes. "I should get to training and... what I wanted to say was that you don't need to keep saying, your highness. You can just call me Prince Benjamin; no need to be overly formal." The words come racing out of the prince's mouth as fast as his heart is beating.

"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" A third voice comes into the conversation.

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