Hi, folks! What I have here is not the next chapter that I've promised before, but I can explain that.

I had been using my father's computer to write my chapters, but recently, he left for a business trip, taking his computer and unknowingly the next chapter of this story with him. The next chapter is finished, but now I can't post it because it's halfway across the world. :/

So, to compensate, I have written this bonus chapter. This bonus chapter was not planned and had not been in my original storyline, but I didn't want to make you all wait until my father gets back.

So with that said, enjoy! Think of it as a deleted scene that's been revived. XD

The Prince and His Valet

iv. – bonus

The Prince stared idly into the blaze burning in the fireplace. In his hands was an item he had picked up from the ball room floor, when chaos overtook the place as he volunteered to carry an unconscious Donald away from the scene and to the doctor.

He shifted his eyes to the figure now lying on the bed, more bandages than he would've liked seeing covering the duck. It was the next day of the dreadful incident (or the next night, if you want to be specific), and there was still no sign of his valet's awakening, despite the Prince having spent the entire day by his bedside.

It wasn't that he was worried, as much Horace seemed to think so with the small smile he allowed himself when he thought the Prince wasn't looking. It was just that he wanted to know when his most usable subject was going to wake up so he'd continue to have someone to blame his pranks on and order around.

At the very least, that was what he had been telling himself.

Lightning flashed outside as thunder roared and more rain fell. The Prince took one glance out the window, cursed the English weather, and was glad that the entire storm was blocked outside the castle wall. Warm and dry by the fireplace, he pitied whoever that had no choice but to go out in this condition.

Suddenly there was a small groan, making the Prince snap his eyes back to the bed. He watched as the duck's eyes fluttered open, blinking a few time as if to make out where he was. He saw the shoulders tense up, then loosen again, obviously remembering the entire ordeal the night before. It would seem that Donald had come to the conclusion that he wasn't in any danger.

Good. The Prince really didn't feel like dealing with a terror-stricken Donald at the moment.

He noticed a second too late that the duck was feeling around his chest with his good hand, and he only noticed it when Donald began attempting to sit up in panic.

It took him all of two seconds to realize what it was that the other teen was searching for.

"It's on the drawer next to your bed."

The movement stopped as the one addressed quickly glanced to his right, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the silver casted locket exactly where he was informed of.

"See it? Good. Now lie still before you hurt yourself even more."

His half order was met with a groan as the duck did just that, falling back into the bed. The Prince took the opportunity to move from his seat in front of the fireplace to right by his valet's bed. He smirked a little when he saw that Donald was stubbornly refusing to look at him. "Didn't know you cared that much about my present."

"Horace's present. And Benjamin's, if you really thought about it." Donald corrected almost instantly. "The only reason I accepted it from you, Your Highness."

"Sarcasm never fails you, you old duck." The Prince picked his words carefully, wanting to push the right buttons without setting the duck off too much. "And here I thought that the reason you accepted it is because it's the last thing you have to remember your mother."

He said it in a tone that was difficult to decipher if it was intended as an offending comment or not. The comment gave the desired effect, making Donald finally look at him in a heated glare.

"If you don't have anything better to do than to insult my mother, Your Highness, then may I strongly suggest that you-" The argument died on his beak when he finally saw what the Prince was holding in his hand.

While it was true that the Prince enjoyed putting his valet on edge, and he loved seeing the duck flustered and frantic because of his pranks, but he would never be able to get used to seeing that pure, overwhelming fear that clouded his eyes when faced with the reminder of his childhood trauma. Even now, as Donald stared at the porcelain mask in his hands, the Prince wanted nothing more than to wipe that fear away and retrieve the usual fire and spunk that he had gotten so used to seeing in those blue eyes.

Calm down. He told himself. You'll get to do it soon enough.

Both waited in silence, one never taking his eyes off the mask and the other never taking his eyes off the duck. Finally, Donald took a shallow breath and croaked, "Why do you have that?"

"If you think I kept it to mock you whenever I felt like it, then you can sigh in relief. I'm not that cruel." The Prince wasn't sure if he felt hurt or not when Donald visibly relaxed, however slightly. "The next thing I'm going to do, I reckoned that you would like, no, that you would need to see me do it."

He ignored that duck's confused expression and turned towards the fireplace he had been facing a few moments ago. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, had one last argument in his head to convince himself of his plan, and opened his eyes in determination and flung.

The mask flew across the room and crashed in the flames, making the formerly calming embers grow into a burning inferno, the fire dancing wildly as it tried to wolf down the new source of energy. Its tongue reached out of the fireplace, as if looking for more to feed on (but it won't; the Prince had poured water on the lush carpet around it beforehand to prevent just that). The porcelain pieces crackled in the intense heat, headed with a small explosion that was loud enough to garner the attention of the people outside.

The boys watched the flame, neither, bound by pride, daring to look at each other with more than out the corner of their eyes as the hallways outside began to fill up with concerned voices and footsteps.

And then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Donald, though still staring ahead into the fire, mouth a small phrase.

Thank you.

The Prince smirked and gave a small informal wave, knowing that the duck would have seen it.

And as Horace rushed into the room with the usual questions, neither of them said anything. The Prince just calmly walked out the room, leaving behind a perplexed tutor and a silent servant.

After all, none of it ever happened.

To be continued…

There you go! I don't think it's my best work, but I like this chapter well enough.

This was written to compensate for the temporarily lost chapter and because I realized that I totally forgot about the mask. XDD

Also, it was my first try at writing in the Prince's POV. It was insanely difficult, for reasons that I can't really put my fingers on. I think it has to do with him being the uppity tsundere royalty that he is. XD

The next chapter should come along quickly. Be sure to tune in then! X3

~ruth~