It was a shame, really. The fruit was meant to make the eater's hair turn a bright pink for three days or so. He had learned about it when one the maids claimed she ate one once. However, they only grew in the tropics outside the kingdom's boarders, making the fruit rare. It was said to be extremely sweet and soft. But the strange layer of hair on the square fruit turned most people off. Frey had taken it from the kitchen. He had really wondered what the rare 'Kinp' fruit was doing in the castle kitchen. Not to feed anyone, hopefully. 

At any rate, the prince was breathing at a fast pace as Aren cleaned his bloody hand. He didn't want the other male to make a mistake. The rag awas a little damp, and not rough at all. The prince couldn't help but tense up. He wasn't used to being so cooperative, and he didn't like the submissive feeling. Nevertheless, he was determined to make his hand feel better. "Be careful, Aren. This is my hand, after all. I want to be able to use it." He piped in while the boy worked. 

Smiling broadly as he saw that Aren had cleaned his flesh successfully, he chuckled. "Remember," He said sternly, "Not a word of this to anyone! Or I'll get you!" He threatened. Sighing in relief, the prince wiggled his fingers. Good. They all looked fine. "But you did well, Aren. I thank you." He then swung his legs over the edge of the window so he was back on the floor of his bedroom. The walls were painted a plain white color. "What happened, huh? Let's say... I smashed your head into the glass! Yeah!" Frey declared proudly. His normal malice was back. "Oh, but you don't have a mark on your forehead. Come on, let's fix that...."