"Prince Sov!" The voice echoed through the hallways, ripping Sov out of his sleep.
He muttered in disagreement and wondered if the servant would just go away again if he didn't reply. Whatever it was he wanted, it couldn't be good. It probably had something to do with his idiotic father.
"Prince Sov!" A knock came from his door.
No. I'm not here. Sov thought to himself, wrapping his huge, fluffy wings around himself tightly. Now go away.
"Prince Sov, your father has requested an audience."
Of course he has Sov thought bitterly.
"He has an announcement to make!" The messenger ended, his voice still muffled through the door.
Sov wondered what this announcement could be. Maybe it would be a public scolding again. Oh, oh! Maybe he'd tell everyone about ANOTHER thing Sov had done wrong! That would be a thrilling thing to sit through again.
"What announcement?" Sov snapped at the messenger, reluctantly pulling his head out of his wings.
"He didn't say," The messenger replied. "But it seems important."
Sov scoffed. Of course it seemed important. It was always important when his Excellency needs to say something, even if it was just talking about the weather.
"Fine," Sov finally replied. "I'll be there. Probably."
The messenger seemed to hover at his door for another moment but then just replied. "Very well, Prince Sov, I'll tell him." And then he heard hasty footsteps echo down the hallway again until they faded away.
Sov sighed deeply and buried his face in his pillow. "What a pain," He muttered.
He genuinely debated just staying in bed and not showing up, but the conversation THAT would cause with his father would probably worse than whatever was going to happen at this meeting.
Sov forced himself to get up, pulling his big, warm blankets off of himself and heaved himself out of his soft bed.
He walked over to closet, his claws making quiet clicking noises on the stone floor.
He opened it and pulled out his favourite robes and threw them on carelessly, before dragging himself over to his mirror.
"Hmpf," He grunted, looking at his messy reflection. His hair was all over the place, more so than usual, even his feather tufts were all disorganised.
"Well... I'll do what I can," Sov shrugged, grabbing a comb, attempting to tame his wavy hair.
His father always expected him to look perfect and presentable, and Sov did try to look at least decent, but it never seemed to be enough for him. Even when he tried to look perfect as his father had wanted him to, he'd always found something to complain about, so at some point Sov just stopped trying.
He dunked his fingers into a small water dish and ran them over his feather tufts, smoothing them out and bring them back into form. He dusted off his robes and made sure that they didn't look too crinkled and fell nicely.
Now it was time for accessories. Sov held in an annoyed groan just at the thought of it.
Personally, he would be just fine without having to put on a ton of glittering things and jingled on his body every time he moved, but according to his father it was royal etiquette and a demonstration of wealth and power Sov HAD to respect.
He begrudgingly reached out for his golden circlet that was adorned with rubies. He disliked this one particularly, it felt uncomfortable to constantly have something on your head, but it was his status symbol as the prince of their Parliament, so he definitely wouldn't get out of wearing this one.
He clipped a gold ear ring onto each of his ears, and then decided to also wear the one piece of jewelry he actually liked.
He lifted a silver necklace over his head and let it rest on his shoulders, looking at it in the mirror. A big, silver snowflake hung in the necklace, and two smaller ones flanked it to either side. A few diamonds and opals were worked into the snowflakes, making them catch the light beautifully.
He loved it for a multitude of reasons. One of them was because his father hated it. He always told him it clashed with his colours, and with the robes he usually wore and all the wonderful golden accessories he'd gotten him. Sov agreed that it did clash, it stood out for miles, and that's kind of why he liked it too.
He'd also bought it for himself. It wasn't just another piece of just some royal treasure, it was his. It was his spark of defiance and individuality again his father, and no matter what he said, he wouldn't be able to make him stop wearing it, ever.
Sov lastly decided to stick golden caps onto each of his talons, thinking that that's enough. He already looked bedazzled enough, anything more and he'd be seriously ridiculous.
He looked at himself in the mirror, and quickly groomed his wings a little, making them look more proper too, before finally opening his door and stepping out of his dark room into the blinding light of the palace hallways.
It was dark outside, only the moon was shining in though the big windows, but the walls of the royal wing of the palace were inlaid with a ridiculous amount of gems and crystals, making it shimmer even in just a sliver of moonlight.
Sov blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust and then hurried down the hallway, his wings swishing across the floor behind him.
As dreadful as the announcement may be, he had to admit that he was curious. Something in his mind told him that today was different. That today it wouldn't be about him at all, and it would actually be something interesting and not humiliating.
He stopped before the throne room, taking a deep breath to collect himself and then opened the door, stepping inside with as much grace as he could muster, even if it felt a bit theatrical.
"Ah," His father's voice echoed through the room. "There you are."
Sov looked up the steps that lead to the two thrones on the top. One was small, and silver, glittering with a few gems that were scattered over the throne like water droplets. It had purple, comfortable pillows, making it a bit more bearable to sit in it. The other throne beside him was huge, and golden, shining with rubies and diamonds. It had complex patterns reaching over it, most of them were war and victory themed.
His father towered on it, looking down at him with that same disapproving gaze as always. Sov knew that he was particularly glancing at his necklace again and he felt a pinch of triumph.
"Father," Sov bowed slightly and made his way over to his throne.
He felt someone else's gaze burn on him and he glanced towards them, despite already knowing who it was.
It was Ame, another royal, just beneath Soviet's ranking.
He had to squint slightly at the bright colours and insane amount of jewelry that covered the man. Sov always thought he looked like a clown who just stumbled into the palace and pretended to be a prince, but for some reason his father seemed more approving of Ame at times than he did of him. Which was fine obviously. If he had to dress like some clown who's outfit assaulted one's eyes then he wasn't sure if he really needed his approval after all.
Ame shot him one of his smug and snarky grins but Sov just rolled his eyes and looked away. His favourite activity appearently was to torment him, but thankfully he mostly left him alone when they were in public.
He made his way up the steps to his throne, focusing his attention back to the matters at hand and sat down.
He overlooked the entire room from up here. Marble coloums reached up from the floor to the ceiling, which was painted with scenes of his Parliament's victories and accomplishments. The plan was to always add another painting to it, but they'd run out of space a while back, so now they had a completely different building dedicated to it.
Sov always thought this was ridiculous and unnecessary boasting. Once he was king himself things would most definitely go a lot differently.
He glanced over to his father. If he'd ever be king. He wasn't quite sure if he'd ever actually let him.
His father clapped, turning the attention of the people in the throne room on him again, and it was only now that Sov noticed that most of the people here were part of the Glorykeepers, the Diamond Army and also the Royal Guard.
Confusion spread throughout his mind. Why would his father call all his different troop factions? Were they going to go to war? There had been peace for a few years now, and in Sov's opinion they had all they needed, besides, he was was sure he would've picked up on that before now.
He tilted his feather tufts forward, and perked up his ear feathers curiously. His instinct had been right, something was different today.
"You may remember that we've been having issues these past years with a thief that keeps coming here, robbing and tricking my people," His father started, his voice booming through the room. "They have also been causing troubles in the other Parliaments, but has been able to slip away every single time. This will end now, and our perfect Parliament will be the one to catch this good for nothing Thief and bring him to justice."
Sov blinked slowly. He did indeed remember a talk about a returning thief, and how he was like a shadow, slipping from Parliament to Parliament, stealing whatever he could.
"That's why I called out all here. I want you to tell each and every single if your men to look out for any suspicious individuals and bring them here," His father went on. "Appearently someone was sighted at the edge of our capital, so start searching the surrounding forest first. Be sure to have arms with you. We don't know how dangerous he is. Catch him by all means nessecary. He won't get away anymore."
The guards and officers nodded obediently.
Sov had wondered about the stranger every now and again, but he didn't think it had been such a big deal. Then again, he had heard of a lot of chaos erupting every time he showed up, so perhaps it was best to catch him after all.
It would be interesting to see who that criminal mastermind who'd managed to slip away each and every time actually was.
"Meeting dismissed," His father commanded, making a hand gesture, shooing everyone in the room out.
Sov was about to get up as well, feeling mildly disappointed that it hadn't been so interesting after all, but then his father grabbed onto his arm, slightly digging his talon into his skin, as he did so often. He said it was an accident every time Sov had confronted him about it, but he honestly had trouble believing that.
"Stay," His father muttered and Soviet reluctantly sat down.
They waited until everyone was gone, and then his father turned to him.
"I want you do stay in the palace until we've caught that trickster and thief," He hissed, his burning, golden eyes telling Sov to not argue with him, but he couldn't help the spark of annoyance.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because it might be dangerous," His father scoffed. "And you have plenty of things to do here, instead of wasting your time out there with the common folk."
Sov felt his irration grow. "I'm not wasting my time. And I can take care of myself you know! Some puny little thief can't do ANYTHING against me."
The grip on Sov's arms tightened and he bit back a whimper of pain as he felt how blood started to run down his skin. "You will stay here," His father ordered dangerously. "That is an order."
Sov glared at him, staring right back at him defiantly. It was bad enough that he kept ordering him around the whole time he was here, but now he wanted to take his one escape from him too? No way.
"I'm not a child anymore!" Sov snapped. "You can't make me stay in here! I'll go whenever I please!"
This time he couldn't hold back a yelp of pain when his father dug his talons deeply in his arm and yanked Sov towards him, twisting it uncomfortably. Blood started to drip onto the golden throne, like drops of ruby.
"What was that?" His father hissed close to his ear, making him wince. "Do you care to repeat that?"
Sov hated that he couldn't keep his body from shaking and his heart from racing. He swallowed heavily, trying to force out a response. He wanted to repeat it, he wanted to defy him, but his throat felt too tight and nothing but a breath came out of him.
"I thought so," His father cooed in a sickening, triumphant way. "So, you will stay here?"
Sov looked down at the puddle of blood that had formed on the arm rest of the throne and then slowly looked up at his father's talons that were still tightly buried in his arm. He closed his eyes, feeling his feather tufts droop in submission.
"Yes," He mumbled. "I will stay here."
"Marvellous," He father replied pleased and let go, making Sov bite back another whine of pain.
He quickly grabbed onto his arm, trying to stop the blood that immediantly started to well out of his wounds.
"Please make sure to not make too much of a mess," His father sighed, getting up, grabbing onto one of Sov's coats and wiping his blood off of his talons.
"I don't really appreciate messes you know," He pulled back, looking down at Sov disapprovingly and then turned around, his wings brushing against Sov. He made his way down the steps and then slipped through the big doors, into the royal wing.
Sov still looked down at his wounded arm. He knew he should be used to it by now, to all of it, but he wasn't.
He took a deep breath and sat up properly again, taking off his smaller top coat and wiped the blood puddle off of the throne before wrapping it around his arm.
At some point I'll be free of him He thought to himself as he got up, feeling his legs tremble under him. At some point he will be sorry.
Sov glared at the door his father had disappeared into. He knew he'd been lying. He'd escape this hell of a palace the first chance he got.
The way he knew his father he'd probably have him guarded most of the time to make sure that he wouldn't leave, but he'd learned ways to trick them and slip away from them. He couldn't keep him from this little bit of freedom, no matter what.
Sov made his way back into his room, where he cleaned his wounds and wrapped them up in proper bandages which he kept in a little chest in his closet.
He dragged himself to his bed and fell onto it with a deep sigh, pulling off all the jewelry except for his necklace and tossing them on the floor.
He starred at the ceiling for a long moment before he turned over and crawled to the window beside his bed, pulling away the curtains and looked outside, past the towers and spires of the palace to the glowing capital and the snowy tundra beyond it.
Sov sighed softly, thinking about the stranger again.
He wondered what it must be like to be on the run. He imagined it to be awful, and uncomfortable, not having a proper home or a sense of Security? Going around stealing things like some rat? It didn't sound great at all.
But on the other hand... he was free. Sov imagined himself straying through the streets, travelling the different Parliaments, travelling the world, with no one telling him what to do, with complete freedom at his talons.
He felt his wings twitch softly. He longed to fly, especially now after this meeting, but he could already hear shuffling in front of his door, and he knew he wouldn't be able to get out anymore today.
Sov stretched his wings out fully, filling out a big part of his room before he laid down, folding them around his body again. He pulled the blankets up to his face and buried himself in the layers of softness and warmth.
He slowly closed his eyes, and was pulled into dreams of an endless horizon, of freedom, and of a shadow grabbing onto him, pulling him with it into the sun with him.