The little Prince was the heir of a kingdom. A kingdom of snow, of sun, of leaves, of flowers. But the Prince was never allowed outside. There were two places he could go to: his cold, cold room, or the garden.
The little Prince loved the garden. It was sunny and lush, with flowers and leaves. The garden soon became his home of sorts. It was here that he started imagining. Imagining a life where his mother smiled lovingly at him, and his father laughed heartily at the dinner table. Where his room was crimson and full of sun, and treasures his parents brought from their visits to foreign places. Lingering above this all was the smell of cinnamon, a scent that had come to represent dreams, fantasies, longings, of the little Ice Prince.
One day, the little Prince was called to the throned room to interview the serfs for the little prince's caretaking. This was the King and Queen's job, but they were never around.
The little Prince saw the same serfs every year, the big-nosed boy, the lanky boy, the apathetic boy, the mocking boy, the silent boy. The apathetic boy he always chose to be his personal servant for the year, so that no pity would be shed upon him. But this year was different.
The little Prince was still a child, but his loneliness was unbearable. He stared down his long nose at the crimson doors that blocked him from the outside world. Suddenly they opened, and the Prince strained his eyes for the speck of sunlight that would always come streaming through, just for a second.
But his sight was immediately taken away by the red that appeared. Red that was a boy. A boy with dark hair and golden eyes.
"Nihao," the boy said shyly. "Are you the Prince?"
The little Prince smiled, the first time in years. "Yes." And he felt obliged to add, "And who are you, sunflower?"
The boy looked a bit surprised. "Er… My name is Yao Wang, Your Majesty. I hail from the East." He bowed again.
Ivan's curiosity was suddenly perked by a red carnation in the boy's hair. "Yao, why is there a flower in your hair?"
Yao blushed. "Um, it's a red carnation that my brother gave me. It symbolizes pride and admiration, for you of course."
"I like you. You will become my personal servant, da?" The little Prince smiled shyly to try to lessen the scary aura he always seemed to have around him. The boy didn't seem to be affected though, not quaking in fear at the sight of the prince.
At Ivan's proposal, Yao smiled slightly and bowed. "Thank you, Your Majest-."
The little Prince interrupted him. "No, don't call me that, Yao-Yao." Yao blinked at the nickname. "My name is… Ivan."