[color=bc8dbf]"It cannot be...  it cannot be."[/color]  Lethonel gasped as his brother handed him a small beige-colored pouch that flopped softly in his hand.  The smell alone was sign enough for the confection-craving prince that his older brother had been paying attention to his recent fancy when it came to sweets.  A delicious blend of bananas, sugars, dough, and more presented itself through a generous and alluring scent that Lethonel inhaled quite greedily.  These confections were his instant favorite once he tasted them sometime before when he left the castle walls to survey the kingdom's wells and water supplies.  Lethonel reminisces back to when his nose caught wind of something illegally-delicious smelling.  By the gods, who would have thought that the masses were able to produce such a masterpiece?!  Thus, the sickly prince pursued that scent until he saw a small confectionery where these small cakes were being sold for a few pieces of copper.  Lethonel bought a few, but within a span of a few...  hours...  he had already finished everything, and since he was already inside the castle by that time, the prince knew that he couldn't leave without a line of knights escorting him.  Hence, his sweet days ended, and he had been pining to taste the ambrosia that were those small cakes in the outer ring of the kingdom.  For his brother to have taken note of his secret cravings was beyond endearing, and Lethonel uttered not a word.  There were no words, and there would never be any words sufficient enough to describe his gratitude and euphoria at receiving quite a simple yet delicious present.  As what Lethonel was taught, actions speak louder than words.  This propelled the prince to timidly approach his brother, and awkwardly smash his forehead softly against the taller man's abdomen.  A wide, goofy smile snaked its way around Lethonel's face as his lips quivered in joy.  

Then, he looked up at Alistair as he took a step back.  As was tradition among males, Lethonel placed his right hand on the left side of his chest-- just above his heart.  Then, he extended it towards Alistair, directing his fingers to point towards his brother-- a common replacement for the words 'I love you' when translated in words.  Of course, it was awkward for males to say it openly, thus, that kind of non-verbal communication was born.  Personally, Lethonel believes that that gesture was more meaningful than words; after all, the heart is more involved than when one speaks.  Other than that, actions do speak louder than words, and besides, words failed to convey his real gratitude.  Then, as he heard his parents' approach, Lethonel quickly spun around and tucked the mini-cake into his pocket before standing at attention beside the crown-prince.  

Lo, and behold, the bearers of the sun and moon strode into the room, only for the curtain of twilight to immediately fall as Rida's bucket and prank fell into place.  The room fell silent as the only sounds came from the maids who vehemently tried to assess the injuries from the prank-- which there were none, fortunately.  Olive-green eyes traced the queen's graceful steps as she uttered not a word of disdain against the princess.  Instead, his mother, as expected, remained as dignified and elegant as a monarch should be without even trying.  The young prince had never seen his mother lose control of her emotions; her demeanor was cold as ice, but her heart remained warm and caring for them.  Even if the sun rose at twilight, and the moon rose at dusk, there would be no worthier mother than queen Lucinda.  He could only sigh in disappointment at himself at being born as a liability to such a perfect dualism of parenthood.  As he looked at his parents, a glum feeling gripped at his heart.  It would seem that his father was the moon, bringing light and hope to the eternal night.  His mother was the sun, spreading life and warmth wherever she went.  Alistair was personified as the sky, laying the foundation for the light and hope to pass through; and Rida was personified as the falling stars, inconsistent, but pure delight to whoever witnesses her.

And, here he was.  So bound to the earth, so limited, and so chained.  While his family soared and waltzed upon the cosmos, he was on Earth-- looking and observing them, only wishing to be able to fly as high as them.  However, these negative thoughts were erased almost instantly as his mother approached him with a loving gaze in her eyes.  Yes, Lucinda's stares could incite so many emotions in any individual, and in this case, it was affection.  The prince leaned unto his mother's kiss, closing his eyes as he relished the care in her voice, and the gentleness of her touch.  Then, his mother gave him a flask with golden liquid cascading within it.  The prince remembered such a concoction-- it was used to alleviate his condition when the disease proved too much to bear.  At one point, he had to drink two flasks to fully suppress a rather extreme attack from his lungs, causing immense pain to Lethonel whenever he coughed for three days.  In other words, he only drank this medicine when there was something major or important event that was going to happen.  It would seem that Lethonel would be joining such a meeting after all.

The prince lifted the brew to his lips, drinking it slowly until the contained was emptied.  The weird taste caused Lethonel to shake his head softly before he began feeling such a strange lightness in his breathing.  He raised the palms of his hands near his face, noticing how the paleness of them began to vanish and a new shade of a healthier color took residence.  Lethonel could feel a strange strength in his muscles and bones, which produced a myriad of cracking sounds as he tested his limits.  Finally, Lethonel released a contented sigh as he looked at his mother with such love and gratefulness.  [color=bc8dbf]"Thank you, mother.  It is always rare for me to feel [i]this[/i] good."[/color]  Lethonel remarked as he bowed his head in respect before noticing how his mother looked at Alistair-- almost as if she's afraid that something terrible might happen to the crown-prince.  Still, as the greetings were done, Lethonel moved towards the grand table, motioning for his brother to follow.

Then, as he sat upon the chair, strange clicking sounds were heard as his vision was painted in black.  A bucket had fallen straight upon his head, jolting the prince into hyper awareness.  After a few seconds of motionlessness, Lethonel peeked from under the bucket as he burst out into a series of laughs that he could only perform when he had taken the medicine.  [color=bc8dbf]"I do pray that this is not the same bucket I used when I threw up a few weeks ago, sister!"[/color]  the prince heartily chuckled before he wiped the tears from his eyes as he removed the bucket from his head.  [color=bc8dbf]"I'm sorry for my laugh,"[/color] the prince remarked, placing the bucket near his chair.  [color=bc8dbf]"... it's just that...  we have never become this informal as of late."[/color]