Herman and Vincent

1

A fine autumn day and the campus bloomed with delightful anticipation, many snaps of camera sounded and youthful faces gleamed with sweat and pleasure as they heaved down their bulky boxes or rolled along with their big suitcases. 

It was a fairly agreeable sight to see, especially if one were a senior, for they have long forgotten the feeling of such innocence and youth, and the simple act of witnessing it reminded them of the taste of such particular bliss. 

In the midst of the campus teeming with first years and their families, a few loners could be seen- too obviously a first year, for none other than first years walked in such careful strides. Perhaps they arrived a few days earlier with family and boxes, and now were taking a solitary tour around the campus. 

It was then Herman noticed one such boy who had a paper map clutched in his hand, so very plainly lost as his eyes, with the same rhythmical pattern, went down and up, comparing his map to the sight that stood in front of him. 

As Herman went closer, he realized he knew this boy. Herman didn’t need an introduction even to know that the pale boy was a Prince. He couldn’t recall exactly where he had met the boy but he recognized the face. Perhaps it was from photos or was it from family meetings? 

“I think I can help you with that.”

Herman didn’t hesitate to approach this beautiful boy. But even if he wasn’t a Prince, Herman was the kind of person to help out anyone in need of assistance. Besides, he was the student president and his duty was to help out the first years for a couple weeks. 

Meanwhile, Vincent hadn’t noticed anybody approaching until he saw fine leather Oxfords stop in front of him and thus startled a little - inwardly of course- he rarely displayed such raw emotions. For he was committed to a scrupulous study of his paper map, not that he gained anything from it which was rather evident from that creased piece of paper. He had been folding and unfolding it multiple times, pulling it out of his pocket when stumped then back in again after internally memorizing the route. 

“..?”

Vincent looked up, then arched his neck a little to check the face of the speaker.

 

Herman smiled at Vincent as he repeated, “I believe I could be of assistance, if you don’t mind.”

Vincent’s eyes politely returned to this friendly stranger’s once he noticed the “student president” pin hanging on his right lapel. 

When Vincent looked back up, he realized that the stranger had been watching Vincent inspect his suit. Vincent flushed a bit as he responded to Herman’s question.  

“Pardon me, I’d be much obliged.” 

Herman, with a soft murmur of “May I,” asked for the paper map with swift motion which Vincent handed over that was followed by the rather hopeless attempt to straighten it out a bit.  

“To the —, hm? I assume you’re a literature major then.”

“.. I thought I was on the right track but I can’t seem to find my building.”

Vincent was soft-spoken which suited his soothing silvery tone. His refined English accent added to his courtly manner. Herman instantly liked the boy even better. For though this boy’s nobility -a Prince- was enough to prove his worth, instances in which young noblities revealed their sad want of proper manners were surprisingly many. 

Herman chuckled.  

“Yes, this part is one of the well known labyrinths here.”

Herman jesticulated to the right direction as he began walking. 

“Just to make it clear, however, I believe I know you. Prince, I believe?”

Vincent didn’t seem to know whether to be confused or mortified. 

“..I am a Prince, yes…Vincent Prince. Do forgive me if we have met previously.” 

Herman shook his head reassuringly as he smiled inwardly at Vincent’s flushed cheeks- though it didn’t appear uncontrolled, for Vincent looked much better with the pink hue. He felt slightly guilty for beginning the conversation that was prone for misunderstanding. Perhaps he assumed the boy- Vincent- would also know him. 

“No need to ask for forgiveness. We haven’t met- not in person, as far as I can recall.” 

“Then how..?” Vincent seemed instantly relieved. It wasn’t an evident shift but the slight flushed pink hue had now gone away. 

“Sorry for the late introduction- I’m Herman Rosier. Do call me Herman.” 

And the name “Rosier” seemed to answer everything. 

Vincent nodded as if he now finally understood. 

For the Rosiers knew all the nobilities. Possibly because they hosted many meetings and gatherings with others. 

Herman continued. 

“And I believe I have seen you in one of the photos... or perhaps it was your father, I cannot be entirely certain. But to be fair, the Prince hairdo is hard to go unnoticed.” 

Herman explained as he deliberately shifted his gaze towards Vincent’s hair. 

Vincent let out a small laugh, one just enough to work as a polite response. 

Herman glanced at the boy next to him. He was of a slender figure, about a head shorter than himself, but there weren’t too many who were as tall or taller than Herman anyway. The boy’s raven black hair was indeed eye-catching, partly because it was rather long for a male but mostly because it was the signature feature of the noble Prince. The two piercing emeralds seemed to be hidden in between his long lashes which gave him a mystic air, especially with his aristocratic lips. Each feature added to accentuate his elegance. 

“Here we are. The easiest way to remember is the flag up there.” 

Herman pointed towards somewhere on the stone wall. A purple flag. 

Vincent breathed out with delight as he faced the majestic building. It was made of stone just like the other major colleges but it had something special to it. Was it the marvelous pear tree next to it, Vincent wondered. 

The pear tree was wide and tall, blazing with red as if on fire. One didn’t need to see the fruit to know instantly it bore pears, for they had something very distinct about it. It was indeed most curious how nearly everyone simply knew it was a pear tree and not, say, an apple tree. 

Herman noticed Vincent’s gaze towards the pear tree. It always succeeded to catch the interest of first years. 

“You must try the pears once it’s ready for harvest. It’s one of the traditions for the literature college.”

Vincent breathed out a soft laugh, murmuring something like “That’d be most delightful..”

Vincent didn’t say anything nor move for a fair while, simply letting the autumn breeze flow through his hair and lungs, smelling and hearing everything from his new world. 

Herman quietly watched Vincent. He was beautiful. 

Herman scarcely minded beauty too much, for he wasn’t in want of it himself. 

And yet, this Vincent boy managed to captivate him simply by standing, and breathing. 

Later when Herman noticed Vincent had returned to the present, by the slight shift of his back, he smiled. 

“Welcome to —-, Prince.”

Vincent turned to Herman. His eyes curved, the emerald light shining through the beautiful rift. 

“Thanks, Herman. And please, call me Vincent.”