Lawrence frowned as he made his way to the prince's bedroom. Stupid, irresponsible waste of air, Naveen was. Always mucking about with this girl and that, in no way reverent of his title. If Maldonia was going to be ruled by this prince, Lawrence would be shipping out and laughing as the island sank à la Atlantis. He composed himself, trying to, if not smile, then not glower, as he opened the door.
"Sire? It's morning, you need to get up," he said, trying to sound friendly as he looked at the lump on the bed with a foot in the air.
"Non, non…porfavo, mesdonnas…" Naveen, still asleep, murmured in Maldonian. Try as he might, Lawrence could never quite master the language. Luckily, the royal household spoke English, as well as French, Spanish, Italian, and even a little Portuguese, in His Majesty's case. Lawrence cleared his throat loudly.
"It's morning, sire," he said, louder than the throat-clearing. Naveen slept on. "Useless mass of partying and irresponsibility…" he muttered as he pulled the cord that rang the bell above the doorway (placed at Her Majesty's insistance).
"Faldi faldonza!" Naveen cried, jumping up in bed. His wavy hair fell over his eyes. He brushed it away and laughed as he saw Lawrence. "Lawrence! I did not expect to see you tonight!" he said, switching easily to English.
"Morning," Lawrence said flatly.
"What?"
"Morning. It's morning, sire."
"Oh?" Naveen jumped out of bed and opened his curtains. He squinted and laughed as sunshine spilled through. "So it is! Achedanza, what a night last night! Music, dancing, girls…"
"Bills…" Lawrence finished dryly.
Naveen, who had walked over to his stack of records, looked over his shoulder. "What?"
"Bills," Lawrence repeated. "About 1,200 lyons-worth."
"Oh…" Naveen rubbed his neck, embarrassed. "Well…that is not so bad…500 less than last time…"
"Oh, you'll make up for that next time, I'm sure," Lawrence muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" The prince looked over his shoulder, and Lawrence forced a smile.
"Nothing, sire." He groaned as Naveen placed a record onto the record player and started turning the crank. "You're not playing that racket again, are you, sire?"
"It is not racket. It is jazz," Naveen said with a smile. "It is, how you say…all the rage in the States." He flopped on his bed, staring dreamily at the ceiling while he listened to the music. "Ah, Lawrence, do you know what I would give to go to New Orleans? That is where it started, you know. Jazz, I mean."
Lawrence cleared his throat. "All daydreaming aside, sire, you need to get dressed and ready."
"All right, all right," Naveen said, waving a hand as he got up off the bed. He strode into the closet and looked at the racks upon racks of trousers and shirts and vests and jackets.
"If I may suggest, sire…" Lawrence said, squeezing his bulk inside the closet.
"You may not, but I know you will anyway," Naveen murmured.
"How about this?" The manservant held up a crisp white shirt, a showy jacket, and red slacks. Naveen wrinkled his nose.
"No, no, no, that will not do," he said. "It is too…prunto charmonte…and, either way, the weather is too hot for those kind of clothes." He tapped a finger to his lips in thought, then smiled. "I'll wear that, that, and that."
Lawrence drew out what Naveen had suggested: a fairly worn white shirt, dark green knit vest, and plain brown slacks. He barely held back from smacking the prince upside his royal head.
"But…it's so very…common…" he said.
"I know. That is what makes it perfect."
"At least wear your crown, sire…"
"No, too heavy. I wear my cap."
"That mangy old thing? But sire…"
"No buts. That ends that."
-------
About an hour later, when Lawrence had finally given in and stopped fussing over him, Naveen burst from his room, ready to face the day. He slid down the stair banister into the hall, then walked toward the kitchen, where he had last left his ukulele.
"Buono dios, Thalia!" he said light-heartedly to the cook—a woman nearing her sixties—lifting his hat in greeting.
"Oh!" Thalia fumbled the carrot she had been chopping, and, as a result, nearly cut her finger off. "Buonos dios, Highness," she said, turning around to face him. "Can I interest you in some breakfast?"
"No, no, it is all right. I will get something to eat in town. But…" He eyed a freshly baked scone and scooped one up. "Your scones, je les adore." He gave a swift kiss to her cheek, then scooped up his ukulele. "Abinaza!"
"Abinaza, you silly boy," she said with a laugh.
The scone was quickly consumed in two bites, and Naveen tuned his ukulele as he walked through the halls. He looked up and noticed his little brother walking, most likely to one of his lessons. Grinning, he placed his ukulele on a nearby antique chair, then rushed from behind and scooped the little boy up so he was riding on his broad shoulders. The boy let out a shriek of delight.
"Let me down, Naveen!" he cried in a way that clearly meant he did not want to be let down.
"Scream all you want, Ravi, I'm not letting you down until you say good morning to me!" Naveen threatened playfully.
"Bu…buono dios, fromanno!" Ravi said breathlessly, laughing.
"Buono dios, Ravi!" Naveen said, grinning up at his little brother. "So, what is it you have planned today, little brother?"
Ravi stuck out his tongue. "I have lessons all day. All day, Naveen!
"All day? Faldi faldonza!" Naveen cried in mock-horror, then winked. "I'll see what I can do to help you out, fromanni. But no telling Mother and Father…"
"No telling us what, Naveen?"
Naveen looked up and saw his parents, King Maneesh and Queen Luzia, looking at him suspiciously. He shot them his famous grin.
"We were discussing what to give you two for your anniversary. It's coming up soon, no?"
"No," Queen Luzia said flatly.
"Naveen, we would like to have a word," King Maneesh said, looking at him scornfully.
"Madri, Papi, can I come, too?" Ravi asked. Naveen lowered him from his shoulders.
"Not now, Ravi," he said. "I'll come see you later, d'escha?"
Ravi pouted. "D'escha…" he said balefully, walking toward the stairs.
Naveen watched after him, then swallowed and looked back toward his parents. Queen Luzia motioned for him to follow, and the three walked silently to the king's study. King Maneesh closed the door behind them. Naveen bit his lip and took off his hat. The only reason they would meet like this was if something bad was going on.
"So…um…why did you want to see me?" he asked timidly.
The king and queen looked at each other, then looked at him.
"Naveen, are you aware of how many lyons you've spent in this month alone?" Queen Luzia asked. Naveen rubbed his neck awkwardly.
"Ah…one, maybe two thousand?" he asked.
"Eleven thousand."
He stared at her for a moment, then managed a weak smile. "Luckily for us, we are a wealthy kingdom. And, after all, what good is wealth if you do not spend a little?"
King Maneesh banged a fist on his desk. "You're missing the point, Naveen! Your lifestyle is not befitting of a future king!"
"You are hale as any man, Father. I've got a good many years before I have to be king. Just give me time to live a little."
"We've given you almost twenty years to 'live a little'! And how have you repaid us? By making a mockery of our family name! People dread the thought of you coming to the throne, Naveen!"
Naveen's eyes widened. "But…but…"
"Naveen," Queen Luzia said, her voice firm, "your father and I have decided that, until you can prove that you can show discipline and responsibility, you are cut off from all funding from the royal family."
Naveen's knees went weak, and he collapsed into the chair beside him. "Cut…cut off? Mother, Father, I…"
"It will be a good experience for you, Naveen," the king said, his anger from earlier subsided.
"But…but who is next to the throne, then? Ravi? He's only a little boy!"
"Like you said, I am a hale man," King Maneesh said, smiling at his son. "You have some time, I think, to learn some discipline before you are king."
-------
Naveen trudged from the study, hat still in his hand. Hopeless, absolutely hopeless! How was he supposed to live if he was cut off?
"Chie pelize…" he swore under his breath.
As he walked slowly through the hall, Ravi soon ran up to him.
"What did Madri and Papi want to talk to you about, fromanno?" he asked.
"Not now, Ravi…" Naveen muttered, his face in his hand.
"No secrets, fromanno! You said that you would tell me anything that…"
"Not now!" Naveen snapped. Ravi stopped, staring up at his older brother, looking a little scared. Naveen's eyes widened, and he sighed as he sank down onto the marble steps. "Faldi faldonza…" he murmured as he hid his face in his hands.
"I…I'm sorry for…" Ravi started, but Naveen interrupted him.
"No, no, I should be sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just…things are complicated now."
"What do you mean?" Ravi asked, sitting beside his big brother. Naveen ran a hand through his dark hair as he looked up.
"Well…to put it simply…ah…" He bit his lip and rubbed his neck. "Mother and Father…ah…have decided that…they will not give me an allowance."
"Allowance?" Ravi asked.
"Money they allow me to spend," he explained.
"Why?"
"Because…because I have spent more than they have allowed me to. So…it's punishment."
"Oh…that's not good…"
"No…" Naveen sighed, resting his chin in his palm. "It's not."
A rare silence passed between the two brothers, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Ravi dug in his pocket.
"Naveen?"
"Yes, fromanni?" He looked over and saw Ravi holding up a coin.
"Will this help?" he asked. Naveen looked at the coin, which Ravi more or less shoved toward him, and smiled.
"Yes, fromanni," he said, taking the coin. "It'll help a lot."
(A/N—If any of you caught it, Lawrence and Naveen's opening dialogue is almost straight out of Code of the Woosters. Naveen just strikes me as a bit like Bertie. XP And, as for why Naveen uses contractions in this, it's because he speaks Maldonian to his family, so he would be more familiar with it. I know I put random Maldonian in there, but it works, right? …right?)