"That sounds like a deal," Callum said. He sat there and made some small talk for a few minutes before leaving the room. Walking towards the door, he dropped the small wooden case on the table. It would of been too weird if he had outright given to him. He might of got the wrong message. What message was Callum giving him anyways? He wasn't really sure at this point. The man felt almost like a sort of project, but at the same time he felt like he was slowly becoming a friend. At least that's what Callum thought, he wasn't really sure how friendships worked. He had a few friends growing up. Mostly servants children that had no choice but to play with him. But he mostly just clung around his brothers. He doubted any of the kids he knew befriended him of their own will, he was anything but nice growing up. An adult friendship was entirely foreign to him. 

That night he opted out of dinner with his parents, instead going to his study. He finished up some reports he had neglected to go chat with the pirate. He came across his report, which now had some things written into. Mostly feed times and the like. Callum glanced at the top of the page, where a name should be. Prince William of the Golden Threads, was written in quotations. In the quiet of his study, Callum burst out laughing. Stopping when his side began to ache. That was definitely not his real name. It then occurred to the young prince that he didn't know his name. He made a mental note to ask next time he saw him.

It was another week yet before the prince had a chance to go to the dungeons. His parents insisted on visiting his brothers, they would of visited his sister too but she lived quite far. All in all it was fun, when they weren't picking on him at least. His mother decided to share her suspicions of him having a secret lover. A conclusion she came to when he bought the shave-knifes. "Shave what exactly? He's as bald as the day of his birth!" His eldest brother had laughed, the other two joining in quickly much to Callums embarrassment. That's what older brothers were for though, Callum thought. When they returned back home, he spent the remainder of the week shopping with his mother. His second brothers wife was expecting. It would be his parents first grandchild, and ofcourse it would make him an uncle. Honestly, he looked forward to it. It meant he'd get to go visit them more as he knew his mother would want to spoil the tyke. They had bought mountains of clothes, of either gender, to be sent up to them. Not to mention the rattles and playthings. One night he walked in to his mother writing furiously, looking tired beyond reason. "Stocking up, mama?" He asked, pointing at her pile of papers. She turned in her seat and chuckled, patting next to her indicating he should join. Callum sat down and began reading a few of the letters. They were all tutorials; How to swaddle, feed, change and burp the infant. Some mentioned losing the baby fat and how to fit a corset to hold a growing belly. "Don't trust her or something?" He joked, nudging her. The Queen smiled as her quill hit another page, "They're just things that might help her, having a child is a scary journey." She stopped and wrapped one arm around him, "Whether it's your first or your fifth." Callum just leaned against her and sighed, it wasn't often he got to share such tender moments with her anymore. He was often regarded as too old for such things, but in the privacy of night age meant nothing.

The next morning, Callum woke up feeling oddly somber. Rolling out of bed he put some of his older, shambled clothes. He looked more like a peasant than a prince. If it wasn't for the crown he sported one might mistake him for it. Meandering down the halls he went into his study, skipping out on breakfast. He immediately began scouring through his bookshelves, until he came to one section in particular. Several dozen books sat on it, majority of them were dusty from disuse. Grabbing a small handful he looked at the covers, faded and tattered. They were childrens books, all well used and well loved. Putting them in a sack, he walked briskly to the dungeons, almost giddily. Going in he passed all of the cells, heading directly to one in particular. With a nod to the guards, he went inside.

His gaze immediately went to the strange man on the bed. "What happened? Last week there was a furry beast in this cell, but today theres a man? Explain this witchcraft," Callum spoke jokingly as he assumed his spot on the bench. "I have returned, and I have brought books. Better books." Opening his pack he started laying them out on the table, most were basic learning books they rest were story-telling. He said each's title as he put it down, "'The Girl in the Shard.', 'The Prince of Crying.', 'Years of Ice.', 'Seventh Husband.' and 'A Pirates Scorn.' These were some of my favourites as a child, still are really. Some of them are a little advanced, but I'm sure you can get there. You seem smart enough at least." He added, almost eager to teach the older man. It was break between his otherwise mundane schedule.