Once again, all the Hetalian personifications are Himapapas, and I apologize for the inevitable OOCness I'm trying to emphasize :'D

Cannon fire.

That was what I heard each day as I awoke. My eyes were tired, but I forced them open. Who knows what that madman of a father would do to me if he, somehow, found out about the lethargic nature of my eyes? The sun hadn't even risen above the horizon, my mind still unclear as to what time it was, but I was already seething with anger for him. A shadow passed as the blinds were drawn.

"Now, now my prince. You know what your father says about dawdling in bed."

"I know what my father says about dawdling with anything…" The grogginess leftover from the previous night's sleep seemed to have left me quite irritably impaired in my speech. The words came out a little too spiteful, as justified as it was. I mean, the idiot did outlaw standing idle on the streets.

"Oh my. Somebody doesn't seem very happy today. Another dream?" I hated how he could read me so well. Of course, I wouldn't let him know that, so I put up my most convincing smile.

"I'm not a child anymore, Gil. I don't have nightmares like Augustus does. Why don't you go check on him instead? I promise I'll get changed myself and say my prayers." Once he was out, I'd be able to practice the flute without worrying about my-

"You know the King wants me here. After all, you are the crown prince, Fritz. Not your brother." It was always the King this, the King that.

"Why not Augustus? What about Wilhelmina? Even the Holy Roman Emperor is choosing one of his daughters to be his successor, and my father is always trying to get on his good side."

"The Emperor may produce a male heir in the future, Fritz. I'm certain he has not yet given up. Your grandfather was worried about not having a grandson, and look how you still came along. It's only a matter of time, my prince. Anyhow, you need not worry about other families. Just concentrate on your studies for now, and we will worry about who succeeds the King later."

"And what if he doesn't have a son before he dies? Won't Maria Theresa become the empress anyway? Can't we just do the same with Wilhelmina? Oh Gil, she'd make the best Queen! Everyone would love her and-"

"Even if she succeeded him, not that the situation would occur, she would still get married, and I'm quite sure her husband would become the Emperor."

I got up from the bed to allow him easier access to the mechanisms which held together my nightclothes. is mouth was shaped by an arrogant smirk, and the crimson eyes which had haunted me since my childhood seemed to sparkle, quite pretentiously, over his hypothetical victory. Think, Frederick, think. There had to be some sort of argument that would get me out of being-

"There is no argument, my prince, that will get you out of your eventual succession into the throne. No argument that will convince me of your ineptness, because I know that you would be a prodigy underneath this façade if you were not so lazy."

"Did I say that out loud?", I enquired, feeling the heat creep to my cheeks. How embarrassing that would be.

"No Fritz. But I have known you since you were but an infant. It's expected I'd be able to read you." He had been getting much more perceptive these past few months. He'd found me quite easily each time father had chased me away, as if he could predict where I would be next. As much as I do enjoy Gilbert's company, it was beginning to hinder the efforts I make of causing my father enough trouble to get me out of my predicament as crown prince.

The smirk reappeared, as if he had, once again, known what I was thinking. He finished tying the lace on my other shoe. "I'm going to go say my prayers now Gil. Can you leave while I do so?"

"Yes, of course. Just remember you can't just ask God to change the fate which awaits you." I knew it was a joke. I did. I'm not stupid. But I wondered…why was it me that got chosen, of all people? Why was I born to Frederick William I of all people, tyrannical as a King and even more so as a father? My mother hardly ever gave me the comfort I needed either, as much as I loved her and her me. Why could Augustus have not come earlier?

I knelt down, my elbows resting on the covers of my bed. I closed my eyes.

What kind of twisted God did such a thing? I was not meant to be a King. I was not meant for Prussia. I am doing everyone, Wilhelmina, mother and even Gilbert, a great disservice by being the crown prince. Perhaps it'd be easier to just kill myself…

"Escaping this world is not a way out either, in case you are thinking that Frederick. It is a dangerous way of thinking." How had he known…?

I stayed silent. Who needed prayer anyway? I'd given up doing it years ago, discovering the meaninglessness of asking an entity which very well may not have existed for wishes which would probably never come to fruition, only locking myself in the room in what they saw as reverence to appease my father. If it weren't for that man, my life would be so much more different. I wouldn't have had to learn to ride horses. I wouldn't have had to waste my time studying religions, of all things, or out-dated tactics which I would probably never even survive to use. Why wouldn't he ever let me study anything I liked? Why German, and not Latin? It sounded sluggish in my ears, and the way in which one had to pile parenthesis upon parenthesis only to find the verb upon which the entire sentence depended was just plain annoying. Why the battles fought in the war in the north, and not the legendary battles fought by the Greeks and Romans? Why could I not have something as simple as gloves, when it is so damned cold so often in these parts of Prussia?

It was about time they'd expect me to finish my prayers. I opened the door. "Your father has sent the food. It's the same as yesterday. After you've finished eating, do send for me to get Herr Duhan."

"Monsieur Duhan." He ignored me.

"It will be the usual after that. Just report to your father, have supper and sleep. Be glad he isn't punishing you even more, Fritz."

I looked down at the unappetizing cut of meat in front of me. I was getting so tired of roast.

"I'm a prince Gil. Can't I eat anything else?"

"Your father is doing what's best for you. This way, you won't end up spoilt like your grandfather and hopefully you'll learn to appreciate the wealth your father has so painstakingly accumulated for you."

"What wealth? He spends every thaler on the army…" I prodded the food with my fork. May as well eat. It seems Gil wasn't going to be on my side today, so I may as well just get to Monsieur Duhan as quick as I could.

"And rightfully so. We already talked about this yesterday, Fritz." I flinched. The talk yesterday was quite disgraceful, but I wasn't about to admit defeat in the face of this man.

"Well, since he spends so much on raising his men, I guess it proves my point about his not caring about us".

I was met with a long silence.

Finally. Victory was mine.

A smile crept on my face. It was a rare moment, at least for me. Winning against Gil wasn't exactly an easy feat. I looked up- wait…what was with the look with which he met my face? His eyes, glimmering only in the morning, were downcast. Had I disappointed him so much as to have created such an expression? No, that couldn't be it. Gil wouldn't let something so small get to him…or would he? Perhaps I should apologize- "I will go get Duhan now." He turned and left.

Even his words were heavy with disappointment. Why did I sympathize with him anyway? He was but a mere servant…yes, he was much older than the others, and he had watched grow God knows how many of my ancestors, but I had no need to feel guilt toward the awkward atmosphere created through my words. The door closed behind him.

It would, however, be much easier to just apologize later. It wasn't because I was sorry. It was because I needed him for my plan to lose the crown. Yes, yes, that was it. I didn't feel anything for the man. I finished the last of the meat and headed outside. I shall have to remember to apologize later.