After school, Evan walked around the city park, recollecting his thoughts on what had occurred in gym. He was actually...embraced by someone. The last one he remembered was when his parents were told to leave. Nothing could have been more important to him than that. Someone actually cared. That word rang unfamiliar in his head until he recalled how Allister took hold of him, squeezing him tight like his own security blanket. Who knew what his thoughts were, then.

Sooner than not, he caught a glimpse of Allister, who stood by the water fountain…staring straight at him. His ice blue eyes contrasted with the bright orange twilight. They seemed to crystallize. Evan walked up to him.

"How are you?" he asked, worrying that he was mentally traumatized forever. The prince sighed, and he told him quietly that he was in shock.

"You're stronger than you think you are, Evan. I was even alarmed when the knife was held to your throat. And at one point…I heard something off. It was right before I grabbed you from the coach."

Evan then raised an eyebrow. "What…did you hear?"

Allister placed his hand at his chest. "I thought I heard your heart racing. I'm sure it wasn't mine. It was too fast…too powerful. It's the sign of a noble."

"Noble?" Evan repeated. Allister explained that all nobles have a unique feature, audible or not. If a noble could hear one's heartbeat, the bearer of that heart had to be of a royal lineage. If the pulse was powerful to one's ears, the lineage had to be very strong, thus the person was a Knight, a Prince or a King. Evan took all of that in and shut his eyes.

"I remember asking my father if he was a King."

"The reason?"

"…The way he spoke and the way he fought. When I was ten, he told a story about how he and my mother were training for the competition in a faraway place. His brother brought out a mannequin like this shabby statue my aunt made. Of course, he destroyed it, spinning, jumping and crouching as he slashed his blade with swift force. I enjoyed seeing that, but my mother freaked out at the mess he made. She ordered him to clean it up. I wondered why he always told a story about swords and fighting."

Allister grinned. "…I heard the same thing from my own father. However, my mother paid no mind while she was caring for me. I was only two years old, yet I knew exactly what he was doing. Another difference is the fact that he ruined my grandfather's ice sculpture of himself."

The two laughed, and they started walking. Allister took out his blade, and he started narrating his own story.

"About a week ago, it was the night of the golden moon. I was of age to actually carry my rights as a noble. In order to gain them, I had to sacrifice my own strength against the dark priests of Veilithar. They were our enemy, although the relations with the nobles were knots and bows. Luckily, they did not leave a scar on me. The second task, I had to use my sword to open separate locks and damage the door to the Grand Hall. Thirdly, I went up against my own father. To his surprised, I surpassed him without much force. The fourth step was giving up one thing from my childhood. I gave up my security blanket."

Evan had to laugh, and he asked what color.

Allister continued. "It was like your eyes, Sir Veils. I do miss that, and I might stare at you like I do my blanket. Anyhow, my final step was the prayer of the nobility. My voice had to be deep, quiet, and like my father's. Though some said I sounded like my aunt, I went with it anyway. So…that's it. I don't remember the rest."

"I sound like my mother sometimes," Evan made fun of himself. "Either that or I sound like a Brit. The only time my father's voice appears is when I'm serious or angry. It's…rare."

"…I believe you sound more like your mother, no offense."

"Don't worry. I've been told that."

"It's a good thing."

Evan turned scarlet. What was Allister doing this time? At school, he was interested in him while he tried to protect him. Now, he was acting like a sort of boyfriend. That fact alone scared Evan…and he just met him at school. Allister still smiled. I wonder what he would do if I were to test him, he thought.

The prince then asked if he wanted to go to his mansion. "I'll introduce you to my parents. Maybe you can regain some memory."

"That sounds great, but I worry that my aunt will fume."

"Then, I can help you escape. Friday, then?"

"I promise."

They went out of the park, and by eight in the evening, they stopped in front of Evan's two-story house. After saying goodbye, Evan walked in. His aunt sat lazily by the fire in the living room. "Where did you go, Evan?" she asked, nearly wavering. Evan said he had to stay after school to catch up with English homework. Joyce stood, and grabbed her knife. "I want you to be near me, my nephew. I nearly had a heart-attack when you failed to return."

Evan knew what was going to happen. Joyce pulled him by his shirt and sliced his midsection. Then, she threw him down. "Go to…your room. Now!" her scream left Evan scrambling up the stairs and into his bedroom. His head became light when he realized that he was bleeding. His world went dark for a few hours. It seemed like eternity.