"There you are!" Another man rushed up to Arthur when he saw him loitering about one of the servants' rooms. "Why, in blinken heavens, are you in this part of the castle?"

  The other man's eyes narrowed. "Oi. You're not thinking about shirking your duties and trying to hide from your father."

  Arthur awkwardly laughed. "Of course not, Galahad. Because that would earn me one of your lectures about superficial royalty who will one day face the revolution of the suppressed, hardworking commoner and the scheming Man."

  He slapped the broad back of his best friend.

  Galahad had, indeed, the charm of an old man at the start of his youth. Only just turning twenty, the same age as Arthur, he was already talking like someone at the end of their age group.

  "Honestly, Arthur. Do you not see the seeding of peoples' suppression arising from the conditions of these quarters?" Galahad scolded Arthur for something else.

  He was referring to the mold on the drapes and dirt patches on the stone floor, which could obviously be cleaned after the royal quarters were looking sparkly. But the royal quarters always needed to look sparkly, so the lower-class areas were neglected most of the time.

  Arthur stared about the area, appreciating his good friend's well-meaning comments with vague understanding. Galahad groaned.

  "Fine! Hurry up and follow me to the Great Hall." He added.

  Arthur followed his friend out of the servant's quarters. Of course, seeing the two handsome royals in the dirtiest part of the castle made the passing maids squeal, panic and snap to bows before them.

  "Oh, Sir. Galahad, thank you for your help with the door the other day." A comely woman in a servant's dress stopped Galahad in his tracks.

  Arthur smirked and folded his arms as he watched his good friend deal with the attention. The man was indeed fair looking in a brown tunic, trousers, and boots; fine black hair, cropped short and with a soft fringe crossing over his forehead, round blue eyes, and a lean and toned body.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  He wasn't the greatest with a sword, but he was fast and agile with a bow and daggers. Because of this, he complimented him in battle. He also wasn't the greatest at noticing suggestive hints from women, either.

  "Well, if we had royalty that would distribute funds better for the upkeep of the castle, especially the fortification of the battlements..." As Galahad continued to serenade the girl with his lectures on the wise use of capital funding, Arthur made his escape.

  He power-walked up a flight of winding stone stairs and entered the main castle corridors. And he was blocked.

  "Brat. Time in the cells didn't make you pronto."

  Noel Pentaghast stomped his way towards him. His armored boots made clanking noises that rebounded down the corridor.

  The eldest half brother by ten years. He was a formidable bear of a man with a short blond beard, shaved head, and bushy brows set over steely blue eyes. His square jaw was rarely lifted with a smile.

  An unmissable beefy, muscly, large body and especially large hands that carried threats of hand-smash-head-to-pulp strength. His impression of authority was more so, with the royal crest on his red tunic over a brown shirt, pants and black boots. One arm was covered in steel plate armor of rerebrace and vambrace, with the White Lily emblem on the couters at his elbow.

  His gauntlet hands rested on the pommel of his sheathed sword at his hip when he stood before his younger brother.

  Arthur awkwardly greeted him.

  "Don't hide, whelp." His deep voice gave some grit to his warning.

  Arthur gulped and nodded. "Let me get changed first."

  Noel let Arthur scurry away like a little mouse. His lips betrayed a slight grin and was deadpan again before others could see. He followed Arthur to make sure he wasn't going to escape.