"Young Lord, it's time to wake up," a pleasant voice sang before quite rudely ripping open his drapes and letting all the blasted morning light in.
"Ughh," Boruto groaned as he rolled over and shoved his face into one of his dozen pillows. The servants always woke him up so damn early.
"Master Konohamaru will be waiting for you out in the garden to begin your training session. Please don't make him wait."
The door closed a few moments later to offer him some privacy to get dressed. Knowing she would return if he went back to sleep, a reluctant Boruto pushed himself up to sit. He combed his fingers through his unruly blonde hair and mentally reviewed the day's schedule.
After his daily training and breakfast with his family, he would prepare for his mandatory etiquette lesson. Though he didn't need such instruction — proper manners had been drilled into him his whole life having grown up royal — it was a requirement for those wishing to participate in the debutante ball.
The ball was sure to be the event of the season, well attended by everybody who was anybody in the underworld. It was a way for prominent families to introduce their newly adult children into high society. And having turned eighteen roughly six months before meant Boruto would finally get his moment in the spotlight.
The etiquette then dance lessons that preceded the ball not only acted as a primer for one's behavior at the event but also served as a social gathering where those who were to debut mingle and determine who they would escort.
A wicked smirk stretched across his lips. As the demon prince of the underworld, Boruto knew he would be the most sought-after escort. He couldn't wait to relish in the attention of all his female peers.
Would they fawn over him? Fight over him?!
At that titillating thought, Boruto pulled himself out of bed. The day was teeing up to be quite interesting, indeed. He dressed in his training clothes and slipped out the back door to the open field of grass in his family's stately garden.
"Young Lord," Konohamaru bowed in greeting. "It's nice to see you this morning, I've only been waiting a century."
"Yeah, yeah," Boruto scoffed playfully in reply.
When Boruto returned to his bed chambers, he peeled off his shirt, soiled with dirt and sweat from a vigorous spar. There was unlikely to ever be a threat to the kingdom that would require him to fight, but his disciplined training certainly had other benefits.
He carelessly dropped the garment on the floor as he admired the swell of his muscles in the nearest mirror. He flexed his arm, pleased by the increasing definition.
But it was only a moment before the sound of running water and the clean smell of soap pulled Boruto's attention from his reflection toward the bathroom.
He was reminded that the results of his training were appreciated by more than just himself when he found a young, female servant drawing him a hot bath. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes lingered on his bare chest for a moment too long.
"My apologies, Young Lord," she squeaked as she tore her gaze away. She twisted the knobs to turn off the flowing water. "Your bath is ready."
"Thank you, that will be all," Boruto replied, resisting the self-satisfied grin playing at his lips.
"You didn't need any help?" she asked meekly as she dried her hands on a small towel.
"Why? Were you hoping to bathe me?" he asked with a blonde brow lifted. The question caused the furious blush of her cheeks to spread across the young servant's entire face.
"If that's all you need, I'll be going now!" she declared and hastily scurried out the door.
He couldn't help the snicker that escaped his lips as he finished undressing and stepped into the porcelain tub full of fragrant, steaming water. Boruto didn't necessarily make it a habit to mess with the help, but a little teasing never hurt anybody.
He was a demon after all, impish by nature.
Back in his youth, Boruto had been boldly defiant of his father's wishes simply for the sake of rebelling, but now he knew by playing his part of the well-mannered prince, he was able to get away with much more mischief.
After a relaxing bath and dressing himself in an outfit sure to impress, Boruto made his way to the formal dining room to join his family for breakfast. A servant pulled out his chair beside his mother as another set a plate before him.
Hinata lifted her napkin to dab her lips before offering him a warm smile. "Good morning, dear."
"Good morning, mother," Boruto replied before turning to his younger sister with a nod of acknowledgment. "Himawari."
"You just missed father," Himawari told him. "He wishes you well at your etiquette lesson today."
"You must be on your best behavior today," Hinata warned with a pointed look. "Or else none of the young ladies will want to be escorted by you."
Boruto filled his plate with a humorous chuckle. Both he and his mother knew that was not true. The young ladies attending these classes will most certainly be vying for his arm. To be escorted by the prince of the underworld would be an honor for her clan.
"Worry not mother, I wouldn't dream of behaving any less than my very best."
After being greeted by a servant at the door, Boruto was escorted to the Aburame's parlor where his peers waited for their etiquette lesson to begin. Tall windows dressed in thick green drapes illuminated the room and soft classical music accompanied their chatter.
"Young Lord," the day's instructor, Shino greeted him with a humble bow. "I have you seated at the head of the table."
"Excellent," he grinned as his blue eyes surveyed the room.
The others were gathered around the long tables lined with triple-tiered plates overflowing with delectable pastries and biscuits. Before each place setting was a porcelain plate and matching teacup with delicately painted flowers and various insects.
Boruto waited a moment for others to take notice of him, and yet they seemed too preoccupied with their own conversations. He couldn't imagine what was more interesting than his arrival.
But curiosity eventually overtook his pride and he approached a few old friends. "What are we all talking about?"
"Oh, Young Lord," Shikadai began with a polite nod. "It seems we have quite the unexpected debutant this year."
Blue eyes followed his friend's gaze at the place card beside them that read 'Miss Sarada Uchiha'.
His brow furrowed. "As in Sir Sasuke Uchiha?"
"I've heard rumors before about Sasuke having a secret heir. I had thought it was rubbish until now," ChoCho added in a hushed whisper.
It was rubbish, Boruto had never heard of some secret heir. Sasuke Uchiha was the last of his clan. Everyone knew that.
The small side conversations scattered across the room grew quiet as Shino welcomed an unfamiliar, raven-haired girl into the parlor. Boruto found himself a touch irked that she received the attention he expected to get himself, but he wrote it off as her novelty.
With her dark eyes and pale skin, she could certainly pass for Sasuke's daughter. She was dressed quite fashionably, wearing a vermilion gown with short poofy sleeves and a pair of elbow-length gloves.
It seemed everyone was stealing glances but hesitating to approach her. Their eyes appeared to make her quite nervous, she kept tugging on her gloves and smoothing out the front of her dress as if she was unsure of her choice of outfit.
She clearly was out of place, so he might as well introduce her to the most important person in the room. When Boruto sauntered across the parlor toward her, others moved out of his way.
With his most charming smile, he reached out to her. Whether out of shyness or uncertainty, it took her a moment to place her hand in his. Boruto lifted their joint hands, allowing his gaze to meet hers before he gingerly brushed his lips against her knuckles.
A satisfied smirk curved up the corner of his lips at the blush that colored her cheeks. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss?"
"Uchiha," she supplied.
"Ahh yes, the long-lost heir of Sir Sasuke Uchiha?" he hummed as if he hadn't just barely heard of her existence. "How intriguing. What brings you here today?"
"You forgot to tell me your name."
His smile faltered as he blinked at her silently for a moment, wondering if she was serious. "Boruto Uzumaki. Demon Prince of the Underworld."
"Oh," her dark brows rose. "That's cool."
His eye nearly twitched. Cool? Cool?!
He knew he wasn't crazy because the quiet onlookers of their exchange seemed equally baffled by her nonchalance. "Indeed. It is quite cool."
Boruto couldn't help but assume she grew up tucked away in the countryside. The way she seemed uncomfortable in her clothes and her obliviousness to the manners and hierarchy of high society was quite telling.
Then again, he could have some fun with that.
He allowed her hand to fall from his lips but didn't let go. "Say, why don't you sit next to me? I think we ought to get better acquainted."
Her dark eyes scanned over the table before looking down at their joined hands. "I think there's assigned seats."
"No bother, we'll switch so that you can sit by me."
He plucked her name card up and walked toward the head of the table changing the seat beside his to her name without care. Boruto sat down at the head of the table and gestured for her to sit beside him.
A hint of hesitancy pinched her features before she ultimately pulled out the chair. But just as she was about to sit down, their instructor scurried over. "Miss Uchiha, there are assigned seats, you should be —"
"I want her to sit by me," Boruto interjected.
Shino looked flustered for a moment before nodding, "of course, Young Lord. We can make the adjustment."
"See, it's not a problem," he grinned at her.
Others began finding their seats as Sarada finally sat down beside him. Her eyes studied the intricate place setting before her with uncertainty. His smile grew wider when she peeked at him through dark lashes, clearly having sensed him watching her.
"If you could have rearranged the whole table and the instructor would have agreed, why did you want to sit by me?"
"You're quite obviously new to town, I'd hate for you to not have anyone to converse with. Plus you seem a bit unfamiliar with the expected etiquette, so just ask me if you have any questions at all," he told her before placing his hand on top of hers.
Sarada was reeling.
She kept pinching herself, trying to wake up because this all felt like such a fever dream. Dressed like this at a tea party with some handsome, self-proclaimed prince lavishing her with his attention.
Attention that seemed to be rather coveted, given the snide looks she was receiving from a few of the other girls. Or maybe it was just because she was the new person and got to sit so close to the head of the table.
Either way, it was a bit overwhelming.
A half dozen servants circled the table, pouring a blend of sweet afternoon tea into everyone's cups. There were the most delicious looking pastries in a tiered tray before her, but Sarada waited for someone else to grab one first.
This was supposed to be an etiquette class and yet she seemed to be the only one who actually needed instruction. She had never been to a formal tea party before, let alone one in the underworld, where the conventions could be different than she would assume.
Dark eyes slyly wandered to her left and to her right. Tentatively adding sugar cubes to her tea as the others did.
The haughty prince beside seemed to pick up on her ignorance because he pointed to one of the smaller spoons in his place setting. Sarada nodded gratefully before she picked up her own and stirred her tea.
It was only a few moments before she heard the grating sound of the instructor clearing his throat behind her. "Miss Uchiha, I ask that you please use your teaspoon, rather than your dessert spoon, to stir your drink. Thank you."
She glanced over to Boruto finding him chatting with the person seated on his other side and using a different spoon to stir his tea than he told her to use.
Unless she was confused by his instruction? Or did she pick up the wrong one by mistake? They all looked very much the same.
"My apologies," Sarada whispered before trading her spoon with the correct one. But she nearly dropped the utensil in surprise when a warm hand glided over her knee.
The prince leaned in and lowered his voice. "Don't worry about him. Everyone is still learning, this is a class, isn't it?"
She nodded her head, not sure whether she felt reassured by his words or nervous from his touch. Sarada swallowed anxiously as his blue eyes gave her a quick once over. "I like your hair by the way. If only I could see it down, I imagine it looks even more lovely."
Sarada unconsciously reached up, making sure her chignon was still intact. "Truthfully, I prefer to wear my hair down most of the time. I mean, I wouldn't mind if you saw it."
An amused smile curled up the corner of his lips. "My, my Miss Uchiha. We've only just met and you're already inviting me into your bedroom?"
"What?!" Her face flushed bright pink. Did she say something suggestive?!
Thankfully he waved her off with a chuckle like he knew that wasn't actually what she meant.
"I'm sure you already know this," Boruto began as he picked up his teacup. "But you're supposed to slurp your tea to show that you enjoy it."
Sarada slowly nodded. She had heard of something similar before, but only when it came to eating noodles. She glanced down, wrapping both hands around her teacup before bringing it to her lips. She certainly didn't want to be perceived as rude by their host, so she slurped her tea as she took a drink.
But when she set her cup back down on its saucer, everyone around her was giving her the most horrified looks.
When Boruto slapped a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter was when she finally realized he was messing with her.
This polite gentleman persona was all just some charade! Sarada grit her teeth, seething knowing that that self-important, pretty boy prince was snickering at her expense.
She turned away with an angry huff, giving her back to him as she tried to strike up a conversation with the person sitting on her other side. She listened as they told her about themselves, but anger continued to fester inside her.
After several minutes of ignoring the prince's prompts for her attention, he excused himself from the table. Dark eyes followed him out of the parlor, realizing this may be her only opportunity to confront that snob privately.
Sarada excused herself from the table and hurried out the door he left just in time to catch him slipping into the powder room down the hall. She waited outside, but the moment he opened the door she shoved him back into the small room, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket in angry fists.
"If you want me to escort you to the ball, there are better ways to ask than accosting me in the bathroom," Boruto chuckled, completely unintimidated by her dark glare.
Her eyes narrowed. "What is your problem?"
"Me? I don't have a problem," he replied innocently. But then his lips stretched into a wicked smile that made her stomach do an unexpected somersault. "You, though, your problem may be that you're terribly naive. Wherever in the underworld did Sasuke find such an ignorant, unmannered girl?"
The reminder that her behavior here was a direct reflection on her father made her cheeks flush, but also made her all the more furious that this pompous asshole would try to tarnish her fragile, new reputation.
"Why you little…!" Sarada growled, shoving him harder against the wall.
The shift in his demeanor was abrupt, from taunting to terrified in a split second. His body was stiff under her hold.
"You didn't mention you had his eyes," Boruto muttered, suddenly refusing to meet her gaze. Any doubt he had about her being Sasuke's legitimate daughter was now shattered.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, unsure what he meant. But when Sarada turned to look in the mirror mounted to the wall, she found that her usually deep, charcoal eyes had morphed into a glowing scarlet.
She blinked at her reflection several times in disbelief, and they reverted back to normal.
What that was, she had no clue. But one thing was for sure, Boruto's response to her red eyes meant it was a power he feared.
"Yeah, I do. So don't mess with me again or you'll regret it," she bluffed.
But it seemed the moment her eyes returned to normal, so did Boruto.
He let out an amused snicker at her words before he flipped their position with ease. A gasp escaped her lips as he forcefully pressed her back against the wall, one hand wrapped around her wrist while the other covered her eyes.
"You don't even know what that means, do you?" he taunted in a hushed whisper, so close their noses nearly touched. Sarada could feel the heat of his body seeping into her clothes and making her skin flush. But she was frozen with fear she was too proud to acknowledge. "You better think twice before threatening me with a power you can't even control."
But the way he purposefully covered her eyes proved he wasn't 100% confident that she couldn't use whatever power her eyes possessed.
"Try not to sound too scared," she mocked between panting breaths. Sarada was reluctant to admit she never had the upper hand in this confrontation. He had tolerated her shoving and ire knowing he could turn the tables in a blink of an eye. Dammit, how embarrassing.
"Hn," he huffed. "All this bravado is comical in such a fragile little package… I'm really not someone you want as an enemy. But I'm generous, so I'll forget your threats if you beg for forgiveness."
"Go fuck yourself."
"So impudent," he tsked. The amusement laced in his voice was only making her more angry.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, but she loathed his arrogance so much she couldn't keep her mouth shut. "You know you're not as hot as you think you are."
She inhaled a shuddering breath as his nose brushed against hers. Her mind was reeling, wondering what his next move would be. There was no way he would kiss her. That would be ridiculous! Uncalled for! Totally repulsive!
And yet even as she shouted those things in her brain, her imagination supplied her with images of his lips pressed against hers in a passionate, fiery kiss. His hands all over her eliciting sighs of pleasure.
His grip tightened on her wrist. "I think we can agree, I'm exactly as hot as you think I am."
"Wh-What?" she sputtered, struggling to think straight with his breath ghosting over her lips.
Just as Sarada was searching for something more intelligent to say, the sound of the doorknob twisting broke their trance.
One of the Aburame servants — thankfully not one of the other debutants — pushed open the door to find them in a rather compromising position.
"Oops!" she squeaked, her cheeks blushing with assumption. "I didn't mean to interrupt, my lord."
Dark eyes fluttered open as Boruto released his hold on her and took a step back. "Oh, no apologies needed, I was done here," he declared before marching out of the bathroom.
Legs trembling, Sarada leaned back against the wall to steady herself. Even after he was out the door, she couldn't seem to calm her heart with his breath still haunting her lips.