This is set in a royalty AU, just to give you guys context (though you could probably guess from the title).
***
"Hi, my name's Palette, what's yours?"
Goth looked up from his breakfast. A boy with a stain on his right cheek grinned back at him while holding a tray of food.
They looked a bit taller than him and had drab clothing similar to his own, a dirty hat, an off-white dirt-smudged shirt, brown pants, and scuffed brown shoes. They were probably hand-me-downs from the orphanage director, much like Goth's hooded white shoulder cape, grey shirt, brown pants, and brown shoes.
The red scarf around his neck was the only article Goth laid claim to, being a memento from his deceased mother.
The boy tilted their head slightly. As if he was waiting for something.
Right, he asked a question...
"It's Goth... I don't remember seeing you around here. Are you new?" the hooded monster questioned. He heard that a new kid had arrived two weeks ago, but had pushed the thought from his mind when no new faces had appeared.
"Yeah! The nice lady said I was living here now since I can't remember anything besides my name! She said it had something to do with the crack in my skull." Palette chirped, placing down his tray and lifting his hat to show off a jagged mark the size of the smaller's pinky on the right side of his skull.
Can't remember anything? Like amnesia?
"... Does it bother you? Not being able to remember anything, I mean," Goth quickly added, looking away in shame.
Palette quirked his mouth for a moment before shaking his head, "Nah, everyone seems really nice, so I don't mind being here!"
The small skeleton didn't expect that kind of response, gaping at the taller before chuckling.
Well, at least he's optimistic.
"Sorry," Goth took a breath, "you surprised me. Most monsters would be upset about not remembering their past, but you're going along with it as if nothing's wrong."
Palette let out a laugh, wrapping an arm around the smaller, "You're funny, I have a feeling we're going to get along great! We'll be best friends!"
Goth flushed at the comment.
This kid called me their best friend? He barely even knows me! Well... having a friend for once would be nice... most of the other kids avoided me anyway, so I suppose I could try it.
---
From that day on, the pair had become nearly inseparable, doing almost everything together.
From what Palette told Goth, he'd been found unconscious near the smoldering remains of a burned-out carriage, probably the result of bandits. He'd spent the first two weeks of his stay in the sick bay recovering from his injuries.
When it had been assessed that he had no memories to aid them in returning him to any remaining family, it had been decided he would stay at the orphanage instead.
Palette seemed to adjust well to life in the orphanage, the month passing by in a flash. The pair were currently in the dormitories on the bottom bunk of their bed drawing.
He also had a flair for making art and became excited to pursue the talent upon discovering it. Since the smaller didn't have the soul to suggest anything else, they had managed to scrounge up some paper and crayons to make a picture. Goth was drawing a butterfly while Palette was putting windows on a castle.
Goth was a bit thankful for the circumstances that brought his new friend to the orphanage, even if that made him a jerk.
I like spending time with Palette. Whenever he's near, my soul gets this fluttery feeling. I feel special around him...
"The king's here!"
Goth looked up at the shout as a group of kids raced by. Footsteps thundered down the hallway and the stairs.
The king? Why?
"King? Who's that?" Palette asked, looking up from his drawing.
Oh, he wouldn't know about the king...
"It's probably King Ink. He's the guy that rules over our country...," Goth supplied, pausing to contemplate the reason, "he usually doesn't travel this far out, though. I wonder if he's looking for servants or something."
The idea of adoption sounds nice, but if only one of them is picked...
"Come on, let's go see!" the taller skeleton pulled at Goth's sleeve, dragging him off the bed and down the stairs. A crowd of children was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. As the pair got to the last step, a regal figure stepped through the doorway...
King Ink.
He cut an imposing silhouette against the row of guards at his back, his cape's gold embroidery shining in the sunlight. His gaze swept over the crowd of murmuring children in silence. He looked like he was searching for something.
Seriously? Is he actually looking for a servant? But if that's the case, why isn't he saying anything, or asking questions? To find a proper servant, he would need to look for certain personality traits.
Goth couldn't help flinching when the king's eye lights roved over him. They stopped, seemingly surprised. Stepping forward, the adult made his way through the crowd towards him. He stopped in front of the small skeleton.
No way... is he actually... but I can't... Palette...
The king kneeled... pulling Pallete, who was next to him, into a hug.
His friend appeared shell-shocked as well as the older monster rumbled out, "My son. I thought I had lost you along with your mother. But here you are, alive and well."
Son!?
The king pulled away from the hug, his tearful smile falling at the look of confusion on Palette's face.
As King Ink was pulled aside by the director to have the situation explained to him, Palette turned to Goth, "He called me son... he's a king, does that mean I'm a prince?"
"I guess so...," the smaller mused, his mood and face slowly crumbling as the implications hit him, "I guess this also means... you'll being leaving... con.. congratulations."
Goth hid his face in his sleeves as his sockets began watering, not wanting to make a scene.
I should be happy! My best friend found his family... so why do I have to cry and ruin it for him?
Palette pulled him into a hug, pressing their foreheads together and looking him in the socket, "It's okay Goth, don't cry! I'll make sure to visit you every day!"
"That will not be possible, Palette," The king boomed, his eye lights shifting shape and color, "There is much to do once we return home to remedy the situation, and the trip here would be much too long to make on a daily basis."
Goth stared, his tears now falling freely at the news. He choked back a sob, burying his face into his friend's chest.
Palette... it's not fair...
Palette balked at the information and his friend's distress, squeezing them tighter, "But... but I can't leave Goth... he's my best friend! Nobody else will play with him, he'll be lonely!"
The information hurt to hear aloud, especially in front of a crowd, but Goth couldn't refute it.
It makes sense... I'm pretty quiet by nature, I don't really like any of the louder games the other kids like, so they call me boring, and they're nervous around me since I'm a skeleton monster.
"I'm sorry Palette, but-"
"No! I'm not leaving Goth!" the boy interrupted with a shout, glaring at his father while maintaining a solid grip on his friend. The small skeleton went silent, staring at his friend in shock at their bold declaration.
Palette's yelling at The King. The stars-loving King! Surely, they won't-
"It can't be helped, then," King Ink huffed, turning to the director, "how do I go about adopting this one?"
The king was gesturing to Goth.
Wait, what? Did he...?
The small skeleton was jarred from his thoughts as Palette picked him up and swung him around, cheering, "We're going to live in a castle together, Goth! Isn't that great?!"
Goth latched onto the hug for fear of being dropped, but couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face at the news.
As long as I can be with Palette, I don't care where I go.
***
Word Count: 1,359