Hi people! I'm here to bring the next chapter! I've gained a few more readers since last chapter, and I want to thank FrittzyCrazy, Mighty Agamemnon, and AlmDelis for reviewing on the last chapter! X3

Also a small notice before this chapter, my family is going to be moving in the next few days, so I probably won't have the time to type up the next chapter as fast as I would like. I ask you all to bear with me and have a little patience! I'll work on it as soon as I have the time! ^_^

Without any further ado, enjoy!

The Prince and His Valet

v. – part 2

They stood there for a few more seconds, each deep in their thoughts what was yet to come.

"Well," Horace finally broke the silence, "I'm off to see to it that the young sire does his royal duties. You're welcome to come along if you want."

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" Donald replied with genuine glee as he rubbed his hands together. He was up for anything that would put the Prince in torment. If Horace knew of the mallard's true intentions, he pretended not to notice.

As they entered the room after several failed attempts at knocking in hopes that His Highness would answer, Donald had to roll his eyes at the sight of the Prince standing proudly in front of the mirror. Such a show-off.

And he had to try and stifle his laughter when His Highness stared in dread from under the scroll of royal duties. But at the same time, he felt that something was…off with the Prince. Maybe it was the way he actually apologized before untangling himself from the scroll, or maybe it was the fact that it wasn't really dread that Donald saw in the teenage mouse's eyes. It was more like…bewilderment?

Nah, maybe it was just his imagination.

But as the day wore on, he became more and more aware of the little things that just felt wrong when the Prince performed them. For one thing, he never called Donald by name, which was absolutely bewildering because the last time he checked, His Highness loved ordering him around, especially during his less-than-good moods when studying.

Another thing that struck the mallard as odd was how the older teen was actually nervous when faced with falconry. He still remembered the two hour rant the Prince had thrown at him about how he enjoyed falconry the most out of all the royal duties because he was actually able to do something aside from sitting behind a desk and listen to Horace ramble on about things he didn't want to know. Still, Donald got a good laugh out of it watching the falcon chase His Highness around the courtyard, so he didn't think too much of it.

Yet another mystery stared him in the face when the Prince's face lit up at the mention of alchemy. For all he knew, his master hated alchemy. "A waste of perfectly good material that could have been used on more productive activities, like molded into weapons, for instance." His Highness had once told him. So naturally, he was suspicious when the mouse before him began happily mixing the powders and elements told to him by Horace. He cast a worried look at Horace to see if he picked up on any of the changes in their prince, but was blatantly ignored. However, with the approving nod that the advisor gave the Prince when he eagerly showed him his work, the teenage duck knew that it was safe to assume that his caretaker had noticed, but wasn't alarmed. In fact, he seemed rather pleased by the Prince's change.

Well, if the Prince really did change, then maybe he won't have to put up with all his pranks and attitude anymore-

He really should have seen it coming when the concoction the Prince brewed blew up in his face. Donald glared at the royal mouse through the soot falling in front of his vision. And the slightly older boy had the nerve to look at him sheepishly and-

Wait just a second. When had His Highness ever felt guilty or sheepish for putting the duck in misery? Something screwy's going on here.

His suspicions and doubts were raised with every royal duty they went through. It was just…wrong. The Prince didn't act like that. The Prince didn't apologize for every mistake that he made. The Prince didn't shy away from the opportunity to show off his skills to the entire castle. The Prince didn't light up at the mention of food. The Prince didn't stare absentmindedly into the palace (he usually stared out the window). The Prince didn't pass up any chance to get Donald in trouble (there were plenty). Everything the Prince did today was just something the Prince he knew would. Not. Do.

At lunch, he tried to consult Horace about this, but the man just gave him a silent look that clearly said, "The Prince is changing for the better. Don't call on him for that." So Donald was left to quietly sulk from the sidelines as he watched His Highness continue doing things he wouldn't normally do.

It was the fencing lessons that finally pushed the duck into action.

While the Prince may act like he didn't care, Donald knew how much the older teen enjoyed fencing. It was during one of these lessons that the valet was able to see him genuinely smile. And he was good at it, too. They both were.

Both of them knew the significance of the sparring sessions. Even before the Ball Room Incident, they had found solace in the one thing that they could be equal in, where the Prince didn't need to resort to petty tricks and pranks to get the better of Donald, and Donald could fight back with as much vigor as he wanted without worrying about the status quo. It was the only time and place where they could put everything aside and let their own skills determine the victor. Sometimes one won, sometimes the other. You can never be sure until they poured everything into it without holding back. It was…soothing.

So now, to see the Prince fumbling with the sword in front him, Donald wasn't just annoyed and suspicious. No, he was angry. And right then and there, he knew what was wrong. He knew that the teen standing before him was not the prince. His Highness may be a jerk, but he would never mock the ground where they both found equality. No, that wasn't the Prince pretending to forget how to hold a sword. That was someone else, a prince look-alike that had somehow gotten into the palace and replaced the one he knew. He didn't care that the boy in front of him looked and talked just like the prince. It wasn't him.

He waited until Horace called stop for tea and the only ones felt on the training ground were him and a disheartened impostor.

"Your Highness." He called casually, picking up a sword as he stepped forward. "Care to spar with me?"

"Oh, hi…uh…Donald (this was the first time he called him by name today)." The Not-Prince smiled awkwardly at him. "I'll have to pass on that, I don't really feel up to it-"

"En-garde!" The duck shouted without letting the Prince (no, not the Prince) finish and charged.

It was over within a second. The impostor was on the ground, looking up in wide-eyed terror at the blade pointed at his face.

"The prince…the real prince, would have been able to block that and retaliate tenfold." Donald glared down at the trembling teen. "Who are you, and what have you done to the Prince?"

To be continued…

Cliffhanger! Well, actually no, because we all know the answer to the last sentence of this chapter. XD

And yes, I am obsessed with the idea that Donald actually knew about the switch. It would explain a few things, I think, and I will point them out in the following chapters. And making it so that Donald was able to tell if the Prince was fake or not really says something about their relationship. X3

Also, the fact that I tweaked in the last chapter was that in the original short movie, when the Prince led Mickey into his room, they never closed the door. It was left wide open. But that wouldn't work with my plot, so I had them close the door instead.

Found out! What is the impostor going to do?

~ruth~