On the other side of the Kingdom, a boy, no, a man, had also awoken from his night's sleep. Jayden had only recently reached the age of manhood, seventeen. Now he had more responsibilities, and things regarding him were taken in a much more serious light. No longer could he act without thinking and have it blamed on being a child. Knowing this, he had his manservant wake a good half hour before he was due at arrive at breakfast.
Jayden rose out of his bed, looking at his surroundings. Having reached the age of manhood, all of his seemingly childish possessions had been removed. In a way, the room looked very bare now. It lacked any source of natural light, save for a small half-circle window positioned high on his wall. However, that wasn't to say the room was dark in any way. Small but exceedingly bright lights were mounted in all four corners of his room, which lit the entire space, even with its extra-large size. The lights revealed almost no shadows, as there wasn't much of anything in the boy's room to cast shadows. His crimson colored king-sized bed was in one corner of his room, and there wasn't anything else of interest throughout the room, save for two doors. One led to a hallway, and the other to his walk-in closet.
Jayden stepped into his closet, which was big enough to put a whole other bedroom inside. His clothes had already been chosen and laid out for him, and he made no argument as he put them on. He wore a plain black shirt underneath a red jacket which came across as rather royal looking, along with black slacks. To match, he slipped on a pair of black socks and shoes.
Also in his closet was a small vanity, which held only a few objects. Aside from the large mirror that was carved into it, there was only a matching comb and brush, a few ponytails, and some hair-gel, which Jayden only bothered wearing to formal events. He took the comb, which was red of course, and ran it through his sleek black hair twice before putting it back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His hair was only just long enough for this look, his ponytail only being about two inches long.
Jayden's parents had always seemed fancy him in the color red, and bought him little else. They'd even gone so far as to name him 'little fire', which he found to be downright silly. He'd never tell them so, but thought of it often.
Having finished, and only having used ten of his thirty minutes, Jayden headed down for breakfast. As he did so, he looked carefully around him. Since he'd come of age, everything seemed to be so much different. The tapestries hanging along the walls suddenly told an old story of war instead of simply being colorful pictures. The red carpets reminded him of pools of blood on the battlefield. Unfortunately, he'd already been exposed to that sight. The day of his seventeenth birthday his father had taken him out to the battlefield so he could understand the true intensity of the war. The sight had made Jayden's stomach churn, and he wished he'd never have to see such a display of 'heroics' again, though he knew such views were just wishful thinking.
Jayden made it down to the dinning room with another fifteen minutes until breakfast would be served. In his eyes, this was right on time. His father had always chastised him, saying, 'If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, it's unacceptable.' Being so, Jayden had learned about punctuality at an early age, seeing as timing was everything in war, and his father knew nothing else.
Jayden took his seat at the table, which was on the opposite side from his father, who'd already taken his seat. To Jayden, it always seemed like his father was miles away at the other end of the table, which made speech between the two near impossible. Time to eat was time to be quiet and sort threw one's thoughts, or so his father'd always said when Jayden tried to pressure him into answering questions.
Farrell Parrish, Jayden's father, was served first as a sign of respect. The man had once shared Jayden's raven black hair, though it was now tinted with streaks of silver. However, their eyes were still the same color, a brilliant shade of deep chocolate brown. Farrell's face was plastered in wrinkles that weren't often found in men his age. After all, he'd only just reached thirty-five. It was clearly the face of a man who'd seen more than his share of the world's cruelties, and lost more than most.
Jayden's memory of the moment was faded, as he'd only been five at the time, but he could still remember having his mother and her unborn child, his would-be sister, assassinated before his very eyes. It hadn't concerned Jayden much, as he was too young to understand the intensity of the situation, but it had nearly killed his father, mentally at least. Jayden often wondered what his life would be like if his mother had survived, seeing as she was not in favor of the war. Maybe she'd have already convinced his father to put a stop to the fighting, just maybe.
"Good morning father," Jayden spoke simply before touching his food. He tucked his napkin into the collar of his shirt, and then began to eat what had been placed before him. This morning there was sausage and an assortment of fruits, which Jayden would happily eat. He enjoyed the meat and fruit equally, being one of few who were fond of the natural sweetness of fruit.
"Indeed," was all his father said in reply. However, Jayden could hear much more. The unspoken words rang throughout his mind, 'Indeed. It's a good morning since I don't hear any gunfire yet.'
The two finished their meals in silence, at nearly the same time.
"I shall be going to the market today to see how our people are faring," Jayden spoke only loud enough for his father to hear across the table. "I'll have Christopher with me, so you needn't worry," he added quickly, knowing him being by himself worried his father. Any good father was always worried about his son's welfare during that time.
King Parrish nodded. "Alright, just remember to be back before sunset."
Jayden nodded, forcing his smile to wait until he'd left his father's presence to appear. Christopher was Jayden's greatest friend, and also a caretaker of sorts. No one knew and was trusted with more of Jayden's secrets than him. However, he was not smiling to have a chance to be with his friend, he was smiling for a very different reason; the chance to not be with his friend.
Jayden walked down to the palace's entrance, where he met Christopher.
"Good morning, your highness," Chris greeted with a smirk. It was a sort of joke between the two of them. Christopher always greeted Jayden formally around others, but when they were alone the two were just teenaged boys unlike any other.
"Same to you, Chris," Jayden grinned in response. If only everything could have been as simple as their friendship. The two were an obvious match, and did most everything together.
Christopher had brown eyes, same as Jayden, though his were a much brighter color. His hair was a dirty blonde color, and reminded Jayden of wet sand. Both boys were well-built; as they had been designed to one day enter the battlefield. Chris was twenty, three years older than Jayden, which made perfect sense since Christopher was meant to be a care-taker for Jayden. However, the two would never view each other as master and servant, but rather as brothers.
The two headed for the market, as Jayden had promised his father, then began to slow until they blended in with the rest of the crowd. Away from the watchful eyes of the guards, the men slipped away from the throng of people and into the nearby bushes. Out of sight, they slipped even further into the forest.