A Royal Pain

CHAPTER TWO

"Didn't I tell you that snacks this late aren't good for you?" she'd reprimanded, suddenly appearing with a torch in hand. He and Phil had screamed in surprise the first couple of times it'd happened, but had learned she wasn't actually there to send them back to bed soon after. She'd simply rolled her eyes when they insisted they needed a snack and then made them one herself, a platter of fruit or a warm cake. Dan had forgotten about her, he realized, as he hadn't been to the kitchens in so long. He didn't even know if she was still working here.

He shrugged off his anxiety with a shake of his head as he pushed open the kitchen door. Even if she was still here, she wouldn't be working at this time anyway.

There was a ton of activity in the kitchen, people bustling all over the place and shouting questions over the heads of their companions to someone else across the room. They held pots and pans and moved quickly and surely, absolutely skilled and assured in their actions. All of it paused when Dan arrived in the doorway, silence quickly falling upon the staff—a wary, nervous sort of quiet. Dan felt himself scowl. They didn't need to stop just because he was here.

"What can I help you with, Your Highness?" the head cook (presumably) asked, having snaked his way through the abundance of people.

"I just wanted to get breakfast for my—friend," Dan replied. Though he realized now that there wasn't really any room for him in here, and he didn't exactly know how to make anything anyway.

"What would they like?" the cook asked, and slowly the work in the kitchen resumed, though muted.

"Um. Pancakes," Dan decided. "And eggs. And bacon." The cook looked up at him as if making sure the order was done. "Please."

A blink of surprise. And then, "Of course, Your Highness. You can wait in here if you would like, or we could deliver it ourselves."

"I'll wait," Dan said quickly. He glanced around again, re-noticing the awkward atmosphere that had fallen as a result of his presence. "Out there," he added, gesturing through the door. And with that he disappeared back through the doors, retreating to the other side of the corridor. He slid onto the low windowsill, his back pressed against the cool glass, and waited. God, Phil was going to owe him after this. Dan was never going to go into the kitchens again.

Soon the cook emerged with a tray piled with food. Dan shouldered the tray, much heavier than he was expecting, and continued back the way he came. He felt irrationally embarrassed, doing the work of a servant, but he figured it was worth it once he was arriving at Phil's door, pausing before his guards.

"I got Phil breakfast," Dan said to them in explanation. They were both burly and scary looking, their faces set in glares. Dan glared back after a moment, neither of them having responded to him. They shouldn't be glaring at a prince!

"Let me in," he commanded.

"The Prince has not requested your presence," one of the guards answered.

"Then knock," Dan said. "Tell him I'm here."

"The Prince has not yet woken," the second guard answered. Dan had to resist snarling at them, his temper instantly flaring.

"Phil!" he yelled. "Let me in!" He kicked the door between the guards, making it thud loudly, before one of them shoved him roughly backwards. He stumbled, barely managing to keep hold of his tray as his head clunked into the wall behind him. He hissed as pain flared in his head, before rage flooded through his body.

"GUARDS!" he yelled, and he heard the footsteps of his guards running towards him; they were just around the corner, guarding his own rooms.

"What's wrong, Prince?" one guard demanded as he skidded around the corner, his eyes wide with worry. The man in front of Phil's room let in a small intake of breath.