The day was hot, as it gets in the midst of late spring. The midday sun shone through the stained glass of the peaked windows, lighting the room around the finely dressed young man who stood in its wake. A murmuring filled the air from the people who passed by on the cobblestone paths below. His solemn eyes went unnoticed, as they always had, by the passersby as he watched them from his lofty place. Solitude was his constant companion.

His golden hair shimmered in the colored rays as he shook his head, ridding his mind of the dark cloud that haunted his thoughts. This would be a good day to walk in the sun. Perhaps its light could do away with this perpetual melancholy. Perhaps this day his father would grant him permission to leave the keep.

Speaking with his father had always been difficult. The two men could not have been more different of mind. However, since his father had assumed the throne, speaking to the man had become nearly impossible.

The golden-haired boy tugged at the hem of his tunic rubbing the silk between his fingers nervously. He stood before the entrance to the throne room, where his father was sure to be seated, but his anxious mind and trembling knees stalled him at the threshold. Taking a breath to steady himself, he pushed through the door with his head held high and his anxiety tucked well away. Any sign of weakness was an unforgivable sin against his father's name.

There he sat like a regal vulture peering down upon a rancid carcass. The severity of his father's features punctuated the cold within his eyes and was more than enough to chill any room into an icy silence. Yet, as the boy looked up to meet his father's gaze, he noticed a most off-putting grin.

Anyone who didn't know the man might have thought he was welcoming them into the room, greeting them with a smile. The boy knew better. To him, the smile upon his father's face was only devious and calculating. He knew what the boy wanted before he had even said a word. He held his father's gaze as he walked confidently forward. Coming to a halt several paces from the foot of the throne, he waited to be addressed.

"You wish to go outside again today?" the man's baritone voice purred like a hungry lion. The chill that ran down the boy's spine caught his breath in his throat for a moment. "Tell me, boy, why is it you always wish to leave the safety of the keep? Do you not know your place? The only place you will ever belong is here with me. The people out there bear no love for a French bastard such as you. I am all you have. Enlighten me as to what could entice you so, that you would wish to leave such comfort and safety? Have I not provided for you everything that you desire?"

"My King Gabriel," his words stuck like honey to his dry mouth but their urgency was not diminished by it. "I would never wish to leave this place. You are a good and wise king and you have provided me with comforts I would have never known otherwise." He paused to take a much-needed breath. "My only request is that you grant me permission to take a walk around the ward. The day is beautiful and I believe it would serve me well to walk in the light."

"Such a lovely construct," the King mused, leaning back on his throne and pressing the tips of his fingers together in a contemplative gesture. "I believe it would do everyone well to walk in the light... very well, Prince Adrien, You may have your walk in the light."

Overjoyed at his good fortune Adrien bowed his head to his father, making certain to keep his features straight that they would not give him away.

The light breeze ruffled his airy tunic and cooled his skin. Adrien was permitted to leave the keep so seldom it was all he could do to keep himself from running through the gardens and rolling down the grassy knoll as he would have done as a young boy. Such an act now might get him beaten for being an embarrassment. The thought passed through him leaving a sour taste in its wake.

The dark fog shrouding his mind shrank away in the truth of the light. Turning his face to the sun, Adrien closed his eyes and listened.

The inner ward held its silence gently, allowing Adrien to breathe at ease. It was a silence that could easily be overlooked by one too busy to take notice, yet it held great peace for those who took the time necessary to hear it.

Most days Adrien felt as though he were a foreigner. A captive within his skin, he was living a life that was not his to live. One day he was a Prince, the next he was not a Prince. Another day he was his father's son, then he was not his father's son. Adrien was not his own, his life and worth waxing and waning as often as the phases of the moon. He was not free in any sense, except within his own mind; even that, however, had its limitations.

It was in that moment Adrien determined that this day would be his. The King could not take away the sun that came every day just as he could not stop the wind. Gabriel was, after all, only a man. Small truths to some perhaps, yet they cradled within them all the strength Adrien would ever need.