Let's see what I have," Jaspers soft voice trailed off as he turned towards his wardrobe. Opening it, Alan and Alastor could see the faintest glimpse of the extravagant coats the young prince was often seen wearing. Trims of red, gold, blue and silver, the soft silky fabric of exquisite attire. He looked like he had a more expensive wardrobe than the crown prince, whose clothes consisted mostly of linens he could get dirty.
"Here we go," Jasper grabbed something off a hook and pulled it out, revealing it to Alastor and servant.
It was a black suede vest with polished silver buttons, the house crest embroidered over the left breast. The waistline was tailored, pinched softly enough it was barely noticeable, but Alan was sure it would give him a perfect slim figure.
"I-I couldn't possibly," Alan tried to protest as Jasper tossed the vest towards him. Alan caught it if only to keep the expensive clothing from hitting the floor.
"Relax," Jasper's eyes rolled as he turned around and opened up a chest against the wall. "I haven't worn that in a long time." He assured, rummaging through the chest full of tunics, finally pulling out an ivory colored one that resembled the one Alan wore now. He handed it to Alan, and he struggled to hold onto the clothes while the prince pulled out slim black slacks. "And I'm not okay with you looking like that."
Alan blushes at Jaspers scrutinizing stare and looked down at the clothes he was handed. The tunic felt like soft silk in his hands, and the slacks were plush cotton.
"I don't know what Walter was thinking, letting you leave looking like that." Jasper crossed his arms over his chest, looking Alan over. "The uniform is important, especially for someone who is supposed to be serving the crown prince. We're doing you a favor, so hurry up and change."
"But Prince Jasper-"
"Seriously, just drop it and change." The young prince cut him off, grabbing Alastor by his forearm and pulling him out of the changing area. "It would be insulting for you not to accept a gift from a prince you know." He called out over his shoulder, causing the small servant boy to flush in embarrassment.
***
Damn that Prince Jasper.
He was a master manipulator, using his title to ensure I would do what he wanted. Staring down at his clothes I smiled to myself, shaking my head. For a boy who was coarse and curt in his mannerisms and the way he spoke, he seemed sweet and kind. In his own way at least.
I stepped behind the wooden partition, feeling relief when Jasper dragged his brother out. I definitely didn't feel comfortable changing in front of both boys. I unbuttoned the blue vest Walter had given me, folding the large material in half and setting it down on the bench behind me. Carefully, I pulled my tunic over my head, hissing as the wound in my back groaned with pain. The bandages kind of restricted my movement, but it was just enough I could pull the tunic off and onto the bench with the vest. Topless, I caught a glimpse of myself in Jasper's full-length mirror.
I looked thin, and frail in my reflection, dainty slim hips, slacks barely hanging on even with my leather belt keeping them up. There was only a slight pinch to my waistline, just enough to determine that I was in fact female. Little specks of copper-colored freckles dotted the pale canvas of my torso. Eyes traveling up, they settled on my bandage chest.
I was by no means a well-endowed woman. I never seemed to fully mature, as my breasts were small, easily concealed beneath baggy clothing. With the bandages around them, I was flat as a board, giving me the perfect illusion of a boys body. My shoulders were small, tapering down to thin wrists and slender fingers. Angry, red streaks lined my forearms, Some were faintly turning into a bluish purple as I began to bruise.
Marks from the head butler.
I quickly turned my gaze away from the mirror, and grabbed Jaspers tunic, carefully slipping the silk fabric over my head and letting it shimmy down my body. The end of the white top settled just below my bottom, and was just loose enough around my torso that it didn't give away my body frame too much. It was soft and smooth against my skin, and cool against the hot bruises on my arms.
Alastor seemed to have a good eye, he knew exactly who to go to for clothes that fit me. Jasper and I were around the same size and height, and though I've never seen the prince without proper attire on, we most likely had similar builds too.
I smiled at the consideration Alastor had given me, even if I was confused by the gesture, and pulled down my slacks. I grabbed the pair Jasper gave me and slipped them over my hips easily. The slim cut dropped down to my ankles, exposing the brown boots I always wore. The hem settled just over the boot itself. They made my legs look sleek and slender and in the mirror I almost didn't recognize myself.
I looked like a strapping young man that needed a hair cut.
I chuckled to myself and brushed back my bangs, a few loose strands falling back into place. I grabbed the vest and slipped it on, buttoning it in place as it hugged my body. With my attire fully put together, I grabbed my baggy clothes and went to meet Jasper and Alastor back in the main room.
***
"Okay, what's going on?" Jasper looked up at his brother, arms crossed over his chest. He had just pulled him away from Alan, so he could give him some privacy, but mostly the young prince had some questions for the future king.
"What?" The innocent tone in Alastor's voice had Jasper narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Don't look at me like that." The crown prince returned the glare but Jaspers held firm, not wavering as his glare could rival their mothers dismissive glower.
"You know exactly what, Alastor." Jasper started. "Yesterday you were grilling him about his motivation, now you're making sure he doesn't embarrass himself by dressing improperly."
Alastor's eyes rolled at his young brothers accusatory tone and looked away. He caught a brief glimpse of Alan's flat belly in the mirror while he slipped on Jasper's tunic. He was as thin as the crown prince had thought, his body smaller than he thought a man could be. The young prince clearing his throat drew Alastor's mind back to the conversation and he looked down at him.
"What? I don't want him walking around next to me looking like some kid wearing his dad's clothes." Alastor huffed, hating that he was being called out. Jasper was a bit too intuitive for his age, and the crown prince couldn't stand it. He could see through everyone. The perfect diplomat.
"You are so full of it," Jasper chastised. "You did something to him, or you feel guilty about being unnecessarily rude to him yesterday."
"There was nothing unnecessary about what I did yesterday, Jas." Alastor huffed.
"He saves you from being stabbed, potentially killed by some cursed whatever at the cost of his magic, and you basically accuse him of being some sort of spy or elaborate assassin. You and I both saw the way he looked when that knife struck him, and you and I both saw how he defended you from that attacker." Alastor hated how true his brothers words were. He had seen it. Alan struggled to defend himself and the prince against an assailant that not only was bigger than him, but had a weapon too. He may not have looked great doing it, but Alan did save his hide. Twice.
And the look Alan had when that knife went into him had been prepared. Scared, but prepared. He had fainted immediately upon being stabbed but he knew what would happen and he took it like any good warrior would have.
Alastor sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Alright, maybe I was a tad harsh on him yesterday." He admitted and Jasper shook his head.
"A tad is putting it lightly, Alastor. You didn't even thank him." Jasper pointed out and the crown prince bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from agreeing aloud.
He was grateful though when Alan finally came out, carrying the sagging clothes in one hand, and adjusting the vest over his wounded shoulder carefully.
"Wow, you look a lot better." Jasper didn't suppress his surprise at seeing Alan in clean clothes that fit him. He looked good. Even Alastor had to admit, he cleaned up nicely.
Dressed in the fine clothes, Alan actually looked older. The clothes accented a masculine figure and Alastor would never have known this was the same boy from yesterday he had thought was a girl.
Alan's cheeks turned pink, highlighting the copper freckles on his face. He tucked his bangs back behind his ears, only for most of the strands to fall back into his face. At the motion, Alastor could catch a glimmer of that feminine aura he had yesterday and narrowed his eyes a little.
"Right, Alastor?" Jasper's narrow elbow lodged itself into the crown prince's rib cage and he growled at the sharp pain, glaring down at him. Jasper's gaze was cold, eyes narrowing right back at him.
"Yeah," Alastor grumbled, rubbing his side and glancing at Alan for a moment. "A lot better." Alan's soft smile had Alastor glaring again and he turned away from the servant and towards the door. "I have things to do today." Was all he said as he quickly retreated, leaving prince and servant behind in confusion.
With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Jasper turned to admire the servant.
"Any idea why he brought you here? Because he certainly didn't tell me." Jasper motioned for Alan to sit in front of a glass mirror, taking a brush and very lightly combing back hair. The fringe of his hair mildly driving him mad. He handed him some hair oil and Alan stared, confusion on his face. "Put it in your hair, slick it back." The servant nodded slowly, and looked down at the amber bottle in his hand. He popped the top, and poured a small amount of oil to his hand. He rubbed them together, then combed his fingers through the scruff that was his hair. Once it was thoroughly rubbed through, Jasper returned to his light brushing.
"I don't really know, your highness." Alan answered honestly. "He peered down my shirt, then brought me here." He shrugged his petite shoulders.
"Why was he looking down your shirt?" The young prince, though dourer in expression, held the curiosity of a gentleman interested in a little gossip.
"He was saying my bandages was too excessive around my body. So I panicked and backed away, told him I don't like being touched and then he-" Clarity rose in Jasper's eyes and he immediately stopped brushing Alan's hair. "Your highness?"
"I didn't mean to touch you," Jasper backed up quickly, and Alan drowned, turning in his seat to look at the prince more clearly.
"Your highness, you merely touched my hair, I'm not offended. In fact I suppose I should be honored." Alan stood as Jasper sighed with relief.
"Okay, good," he gave a crooked smile to Alan, and for a brief moment the servant caught a crack in his persona. "I do not like being touched period." He revealed. "Alastor probably felt guilty because of that. He knows how I behave when I'm being physically touched. I don't even like anyone brushing my hair. And I dress myself I refuse to let a servant do it."
"Oh," it was all Alan could say.
***
I looked down at my clothes, feeling guilty. Jasper had tended to me, shared his clothes, even touched my hair. I knew how severe Haphephobia could be, and I felt awful for pretending that I had it, especially to someone so sneakily kind as the young prince. I looked up at him, he was smiling at me, a touched gleam in his eyes.
"I feel bad, forcing my clothes onto you like that now. Alastor doesn't understand that that kinda transfers to using someone else's clothes," he apologized, tucking his hands in front of him.
"It's... it's okay. For me it's... more about skin to skin contact." I rubbed my arm, flinching when I touched the marks there. I tried to hide it, but Jasper was quick to catch it and his expression hardened.
"Roll up your sleeves," he said. I would have protested but something in the tone of his voice told me not to. Reluctantly I complied, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt to expose the red lashings from this morning. They were bruising at the core of each line across my arm, the outer edge of the sores an angry red, slowly beginning to turn into an even harsher bruising. "Where did you get these?" Jasper asked, narrowing his eyes at me as if daring me to lie.
"F-from the head butler," I explained. "This morning when he was teaching me how to plate Alastors food. Any time I got something wrong he would hit my arm with a wooden spoon. It's alright though, it doesn't hurt much." Jasper rolled his eys, not believing me when I said it didn't hurt. "I've had far worse, remember? A knife in my back. A wooden spoon is nothing."
"Still, there's no excuse for abuse," Jasper shook his head. "You should say something to Alastor, and he'll set that bastard right." Jaspers soft eyes turned hard, as if remembering something that brought him anger and pain. He said nothing of it, and looked back at me.
"It was just because of a few mistakes, once I get more used to it, I'm sure it will stop." I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but frowned when Jasper didn't return it.
"If this keeps going, and you don't say something to Alastor, I will. It's unacceptable, abuse is not tolerated in this castle, no matter who is giving it or receiving it. You remind that head butler of it." His tone was firm, unwavering in his conviction. I slowly nodded my head in agreement, and Jasper eased up, taking a step back from me. "Good. Alastor should be in the courtyard with the knights, you should stick close to him from now on." Jasper said, quickly retreating out of his room before I could even utter a single word.
Frowning, I looked down at my bruises, brows twisting together in confusion and pain. Whatever was going on with Jasper and the butler must be something big. Big enough that the young prince's mask broke.