Every second of his life, Tony practically could hear the time passin. He could feel it on his skin, he could see himself walking slowly closer to death.
By being stuck in the palace, he was used to do almost nothing, only reading and learning since he was a child. He had the impression, however, of knowing nothing. He felt that the whole world was covered with an immaculate veil too big for himself to remove entirely.
He knew that he would never have a chance to really see the world entirely. That he could never see the world as he really is.
Becausse Tony saw the world in black and white.
It would be nice for him if it were only a metaphor to describe monotony, a routine from which he can not escape.
But no. It wasn't.
He saw the whole world in black and white.
He knew, however, that some people saw colors. He knew that his sister, for example, can.
As a child, he wasn't interested in tcolors. Because he didn't miss seeing colors. After all, you can not miss something you've never seen, huh ?
Yet, now, he missed them terribly. Because the gods know that he had read books about colors. Speaking of how they appeared, why they appeared.
So now, yes, it would be lying to say that he didn't miss the colors.
Now he felt like they were missing.
He felt she was missing.
His half. The person who completed his world, who brought an interest to live, to breathe. His soulmate.
Oh, yes, he read a ton of books on the subject. All talked of the itrrational sensation happiness that was the first look, the appearance of colors, the warm feeling that took place in the heart.
Tony wanted that. A selfish pleasure, his mother told him. But Tony wanted that.
Because the colors would come when his eyes met those of his half. He knew it, everyone knew it, everyone was waiting for the day they would meet their half.
When he brought the subject into a discussion, he was often told that he had to give up. That a king did not need to see the colors to rule. That a king did not need anyone to rule.
But Tony, as a person, needed it.
Because his world was bland. And the more time passed, the less he wanted to continue living in a world like this.
The more the time passed, the more Tony lose his interrest in life.
The only thing that allowed him to really continue was the idea, the possibility, that he could meet her eyes. He sometimes thought about it, imagined that day. He knew he could never know the real sensation until he lived it, but that was all he had. The idea of being happy, of making leave the void growing in his mind.
Tony needed it badly.
But for the moment he was stuck in the castle, waiting for his 18th birthday and take the throne, taking the place of his father. The day he will see the world forever in two colors.
Because yes, a king can not meet his soul mate after his coronation, it is the curse on his life, on his family.
The origin was unknown, but many liked to think that it was the gods who cursed them.
Tony thought, no, knew it was there because her family did not give colors the importance they deserved.
It was on this thought that Tony let out a growl of anger. His sister then gave him a look of disapproval before sighing and coming to sit in front of him.
"You did not listen to me, did you ? His little brother turned his head a little and he felt warmth on his cheeks. Tony, what were you thinking about? "
Silence answered her question and she ran a hand over her face. Natasha opened her mouth a little before closing it and getting up, then she took one last glance at her brother and pulled his arm to lead him to another room, full of paintings. Her brother, accustomed to this mania that she had to take him to this room every time he zoned-out, already knew what she was going to do. A small smile drew on his lips and he sat cross-legged on an chair, waiting patiently for his sister to choose a painting.
She finally came to rest in front of him after a few minutes, and smiled at him.
Her hand was put on a line, which she traced with the tip of her index finger as she began to describe the colors, explaining when they were hot or cold, what the painter wanted to do behind that.
After almost an hour of her describing another work of her collection, someone came to tell them to come for diner. The two of them were looking at each other, knowing that they had - again - both lost track of time.
He walked hand-in-hand into the dining room, and Tony looked at his smiling sister, walking with confidence to their parents.
His sister was actually the only person who understood him.
She had the chance to inadvertently meet her soul mate, but he had gone to another kingdom without ever coming back, leaving to her just the memory of his beautiful brown eyes as she told him. His sister was strong, and he knew it. He admired her. But he especially knew that once he was on the throne she would have to marry a prince or princess from another country, leaving him alone with the only memory of her description of the world and its beauty .
A slight smile landed on his face and Tony gently kissed his sister's cheek, and in return she did the same, squeezing her brother's hand a little more.
They both entered a large room, watched by probably a dozen people, and sat on the seats in front of their parents. Natasha just waved her head while Tony remained neutral.
He winced in pain as his sister poked him, and he nodded slowly in the direction of his father and then his mother, still remaining neutral.
A small smile came to rest on his lips when, of cours not in purpose, he quietly punched his sister's foot under the table. She glanced at him, and whispered in his ear something like "You're going to regret," and, oh gods, he knew he was going to regret one day or another but it was so satisfying.
The rest of the meal was in a pleasant silence for his parents and just embarrassing for Tony. He left the table as soon as his father gave him the permission, walking immediately to his room. He knew he would not see his sister again until the next day, since the afternoon rhymes with learning-to-be-married-with-someone for her, lessons setting up by the queen.
He picked a random book from the library, knowing in advance that he had probably already read it, and started flipping through it.
The more he advanced in his reading, the more he frowned. He was sure he had read everything, so why did this book seemed so new to him?
He turned his book so he could take a look at the cover and read the title.
"Gods of colors"
The title looked like several books he had already read, but he knew he had never had a book in his possession with this title.
He wondered if anyone had put it here.
The idea of asking if someone had entered his room in his absence came to him but he decided instead to continue his reading.
The words slipped past his eyes, and he renregistred in his head all the new information he found. He straightened his back several times, bending little by little as he read.
Each chapter came back to the same idea, his soul mate was born the same day as him, in the same place. His soul mate was always close to him.
He had to find her.
The idea that his half moved in another counry did not even cross his mind, too much concerned about all the information that had arrived. He had just learned that he was more likely to meet her than he believed.
He had to find her.
He finished reading the last line of his book and closed it brutally, his head was invaded by thousands of theory, and he weighed the pros and cons of them.
But all these theories were useless, because if he did not do anything, they had no interest. He sat on his bed and ran a hand through his hair and he knew, he knew that to find her he had to look for her.
But his parents would never allow it. He knew he was the only one able to engage his story, their story.
His breath seemed heavier, he stamped with impatience at the thought of meeting his soul mate, but he was also afraid. Afraid of what he was going to do.
He looked for a sheet in his desk drawer and started writing letters to his family, apologizing for his sudden departure explaining that he needed to see her, describing his desire to see the colors.
His wrist began to hurt but he wrote again and again, each letter containing several pages of excuses.
He put them in a pile on his desk and he began to think of a plan of escape. Should he wait until tomorrow ? Do it today ? Within a week ? A month ?
He did not think he would be able to wait. No. He just couldn't wait.
He took the most discret bag he had and put the necessary things there, that's mean books, clothes and a picture of him and his sister.
He knew the castle like his pocket, and he knew there were places where he could escape more easily than others.
It was the night, it was easier. He would be more discreet.
His heart squeezed and he opened his window to breathe. He pulled his bag over his shoulders and put the letters on the bed before starting his departure, letting his crown in his room.
It was time for him to leave.
Then he walked as quietly as he could in the castle, to what he knew to be the simplest way out, dodging guards and servants.
He finally climbed to a window, his last obstacle, when his arm was firmly gripped by one hand.
"Wait, Tony. The trembling voice of his sister reached his ear. Wait. "
The silence took place a few seconds then she took out a cap that seemed old.
"Good luck"
At these words, he grabbed what his sister handed him and jumped out the window, clutching the nearest tree.
He gave her one last look and began to run, feelings mixed between pain and joy. He smiles. He cried. But he kept running.
And it was only when he passed, for real, outside the castle that he left a little cry of joy, silently thanking his sister.