Family comes Fifth

1: The baker

Once upon a time, there was a prince who claimed family should always come first, but failed to prove it with his actions.

The biggest indicator of that was his tricky situation: he stood in front of a little cottage that belonged to his oldest son whom he hadn't seen in years, disguised as a beggar.

After taking a deep breath, knocking gently three times and waiting for three minutes, the wooden door slided open, revealing a little girl who cautiously peeked through the narrow crack. "Hello, sir. What is the purpose of your visit?"

The elderly prince could feel a smile creeping up to his lips at the sight of his eldest grandchild. "Hello, Adela, my dear."

The girl's eyes widened with mixture of fear and confusion. "How ... How do you know my name? Are you a wizard?"

He laughed. "No, darling, I'm something much, much better. I'm your..."

"Nothing is better than a wizard!" she said stubbornly.

His laughter became louder. "Well, yes, I must agree. But, still, hear me out. I know you probably don't remember me, but I'm your grandpa."

"Mommy!" Adela cried. His words were way too incredible to be the truth and she was taught to report any liar right to her mother. A woman with the same wavy brown hair as hers approached the entrance.

"What are you screaming for?" she inquired, but her voice got stuck in her throath when she noticed the familiar face at the door.
"Arthur!?" her call flew to the back of the house while the panic tiptoed into her mind.

Just a moment later, there he stood: a prince hidden under the mask of a town baker. His beard had grown longer and his eyes had fallen deeper into the sockets, but to the old prince he looked the same. With a bright blond hair, the distinctive strong jaw and the sapphire blue irises, he bore a strong resemblance to his father.

The ironic part was that the baker hadn't seen his father for so long he had completely forgotten all about his appearance or any similarity between them.

"Dad?" he said puzzledly while staring at the old beggar in awe. "Is... is that really you?"
The beggar took off his coat to reveal the gray hair and wrinkled skin that belonged to the elderly prince.

"It ... it is? Hello, father, no, dad. Hello, dad," Arthur began softly. "So, how are you? Are you okay? Come in, please, come in. Sit and relax and-"

"You might want to sit down for this."

It only took half a minute for the entire family to gather in the living room. Exactly opposite of the prince sat Arthur surrounded by his wife and their four small children. Only Adela paid close attention to an adult's conversation while the others fooled around playing nameless games.

"I'll get straight to the point, any kind of a procrastination could only deepen the pain..." he said.

"Your Queen, my wife and your mother, Arthur, passed away three days ago."

At first, Arthur's eyes filled with shock and disbelief, but then his emotions pushed the boundaries and slithered down his cheeks.

"Excuse me," he muttered, his voice shaking. With that, he slipped off the armchair and limply found the way to his room. His wife rushed after him and quicky asked her strange father-in-law to entertain the children.

Four pairs of curious eyes filled with fantasy and fairies instead of tears and long years looked at him in anticipation. He couldn't let them down.

Firstly, he pulled out two completely ordinary knitting needles that were special to him in all the ways possible.

They were hers.