He sighed.

"Sure is a beautiful day out there..."

Eofyn’s eyes froze on the page. He knew that tone. Pyram was going to get him into trouble with the staff again.

He glanced up from his book to see Pyram sitting on the windowsill, gazing out at the pristine and winding streets of Gelyfed with an exaggerated amount of longing. Pyram was aware that he was being watched, and he was playing the game.

"Pyram, do you realize the kind scolding we'll get if we sneak out again?"

Pyram's eyes were trained on the ceiling, asking of it to please give him strength, and then they drifted downward to silently criticize Eofyn's terribly sheltered perspective of the world.

"Who says they have to know?" Pyram asked with a careless air. "They didn't figure it out last time until you blurted it out in front of your father at dinner..." That last bit was muttered accusingly at the glass of the window, but Pyram was aware that Eofyn caught every word.

The prince in the room heaved a sigh that frequented many of their conversations. "You know I can't lie to my father. He asked what we'd been up to that day. I'm sure he somehow already knew. It wasn't worth the trouble of lying."

"And, if you recall," Pyram pointed out with a winning smirk, "King Arisan was just fine with it all. It was that insufferable nurse that had such a fit about it. She babies you, you know."

Eofyn managed a light scoff as he shifted his eyes from Pyram, brushing off his untamable advisor's comment. "Griselde was simply concerned for my safety, Pyram."

Pyram's arm abruptly slipped from his knee as if pushed by some unseen spirit of disbelief, and his shoulders turned to face his prince head on. "Safety? Really? What sort of threat do you imagine is lurking out there, Fyn?" His brows had made the journey to his hairline as he gestured to the ever-peaceful kingdom outside, begging for Eofyn to attempt a viable answer.

"You mean now that you've been contained?" Eofyn quipped, just one eyebrow aloft. But Pyram was only too willing to agree with him.

Truly, in his youth, Pyram had been Gelyfed's greatest threat and the sharpest thorn in the kingdom's side. He was an orphan who'd managed to balk the system in favor of managing his own affairs. Even as a boy, Pyram could not be contained, so he called the alleys home and found food when and where he could. With the Fyre-given gift of very keen wits coupled with a bit of street sense, Pyram was almost built for such a deviant lifestyle.

Stealth, however, had never been included in his short list of cares. If spotted, Pyram would simply laugh and wave as he disappeared down the serpentine streets that he knew far too well. His arrogance quickly earned him a reputation, and he was absolutely thrilled by it.

It was perfect, in Pyram's opinion, until the unfathomable day that he was caught. On that fateful day, a fruit vendor, who'd fallen victim to Pyram's sticky fingers too many times, hired a few guards, including a man with a poor temper and a crystal that gave him eyes in the back of his head to resolve the issue. When Pyram attempted to steal from the guards' pockets, the man saw Pyram coming and the rest was meant to be history.

But on this day, the good King of Gelyfed, King Arisan, saw fit to clear his schedule and spend time among his people. Accompanied only by his closest advisor, Darian, a jovial and kind man himself, the king witnessed Pyram's downfall, and that it did not come without an impressive struggle, and he saw potential there. He'd heard of the cunning lad who'd managed to raise himself on the streets for nearly two years and realized that two needs could be filled that day.

Pyram was saved from the clutches of the scorned vendor and taken to the castle in the company of the king himself (not without first attempting another escape, because why should he believe that the very King of Gelyfed would not want to punish him and return him to the suffocation of the orphanage?). But then he was led through the polished halls to an extravagant playroom and another little boy who was being entertained by an overbidding nurse. The maid clapped and praised every move the boy made. And that was the first of many times that Pyram would roll his eyes at Eofyn.

"Exactly." Pyram gave a proud nod at the memories of his previous life. "What big, bad villain could possibly be out there, especially with me walking right next to you?" Pyram's arms were crossed now, and he wore that look, that specific expression that told Eofyn that another of Pyram's lessons in life was about to come crashing down on him.

Eofyn opened his mouth to protest, but more than ten years of knowing Pyram had left him with much knowledge, most importantly that it was pointless to argue with Pyram when he was feeling claustrophobic and itching for the unbound freedom of the streets.

Pyram could see his victory in Eofyn's frown. Shadows from the afternoon sun danced across his face as his crystal began to take on its characteristic red hue. He gave the glass on the window a light push, having unlatched it before they'd even begun their ritual interchange, and swung his legs over the edge, looking back at Eofyn with a nearly wicked grin.

Eofyn eyed the eerily glowing charm around the other's neck, knowing, as he always did, that he would regret this.

"Sunlight is good for you, Fyn. You need to get out more," Pyram said as he stretched his arms. 

"Would you stop?" Eofyn said with laughter in his voice. His hand shot up to catch Pyram's arm, putting a stop to his dramatic display. "It's not like your arms are actually tied in the castle."

"Feels like it sometimes." Pyram shrugged and set his eyes to the city. The streets and canals stretched for the walls, just as eager to run as he was. He inhaled deeply and released a contented sigh. Oh, but this was just the beginning.

"Where to first?" That was really more of a rhetorical question at a time like this. Eofyn only ever followed close to Pyram's heels and asked when they were finally going to return to the castle. One day, though, Pyram was sure that the prince would finally venture out of his own accord, and when that happened, Pyram desperately wanted to be sure he was there to witness it.

Eofyn was regarding Pyram with an impatient and expectant look. Today would not be the day.

"Just a stroll then," Pyram decided for them. "Let's head for the city center. There's always something interesting there. Who knows what talent is throwing a fair this time of year. I once saw a whole troupe of people with a knack for swallowing fire. That was the greatest day of my life." His eyes took on a shine at the memory and Eofyn could nearly see the flames dancing in them still. "Not really sure what they do with that when they're at home, but it was fun enough to watch. Their crystals even flickered red with yellow at the center, like the fire was in their hearts, too."

"Sounds interesting," Eofyn said, but his voice portrayed less enthusiasm than his words implied. His eyes had wandered to the various stands that had begun to line the streets as they drew nearer to the center of town. Venders of all talents had come out to profit from today's exhibition of talent, but, as the circular plaza came into view, it was not fire-eaters that graced the stage. In fact, the stage itself was empty. Instead, the scene was dominated by people wearing pale blue robes, silver sashes, and unusually kind faces, one of which stuck out to Eofyn like a diamond among a sheet of coal. 

Eofyn could feel his jaw slacken as he absently put his hand out to lean against a wooden sign that told of the day's events. He leaned heavily on it so as not to be overthrown by the sight before him.

She was beautiful. Blonde hair literally cascaded past her shoulders with the grace of a summer breeze. Her skin was only barely kissed by the sun, as if not even it was worthy of gazing upon her radiance for too long. She was tall for a girl, but still a few inches shorter than Eofyn. Her shoulders were held back with poise and humble confidence, but her eyes...

The sky would weep.

"Healers," he heard Pyram casually read over his shoulder, but the voice was muffled, like listening through a pillow. 

Who listens through pillows? Eofyn criticized himself, but only for a moment because she was moving - no - she was gliding. He couldn't believe it. Surely she was a creature born straight from the finest souls of Bryta. Or perhaps she was simply a specter, because no one else seemed to notice her brilliance quite as he had. 

"Not exactly the entertainment I was hoping for, but still, it's interesting enough. That's a unique shade of blue they've got in their crystals."

Crystals, Eofyn laughed inwardly. Her eyes are crystals enough.

"Fyn?"

The girl was smiling now. There was really nothing to compare it to.

"Eofyn."

He was beginning to register Pyram's voice now. He could feel Pyram's presence drawing into his personal space. Years of experience warned him to withdraw from his thoughts before - 

"Eofyn!" Right next to his ear too.

Eofyn involuntarily jumped and his hand lost its purchase on the poorly smoothed wooden sign, managing to catch a loose splinter as it went.

The prince hissed as blood began to seep from the small wound. It was nothing major, but it would make for an annoying sting whenever he would close his hand for the next few days.

"Yes, Pyram?" Eofyn responded with too much haste. He straightened himself, brushing imaginary dust from his lower sleeves and looking up at Pyram to hear what their next uncomfortable stop would be.

Pyram was already laughing. 

"Glad you came along now?" he asked with a knowing smile. "I saw her, Fyn. She's pretty." His tone sounded like he was trying to offer Eofyn justification. 

"Sure," was all Eofyn could manage while carefully folding away his embarrassment. He mentally shook himself, bringing his focus back to reality and where he was. "What was it that you wanted to do, again?" 

"My job, of course," Pyram said with a wide smile. A hand slapped heavily on Eofyn's back as Pyram guided him through the crowd. The coming speech was one that Eofyn knew too well. "Your father took me in so that I could be a positive example for you." His brow furrowed and he lowered both his chin and his voice to deliver the next, well-rehearsed line. "'The prince needs someone who can be a role model and a guide, but someone who isn't too concerned with being his friend to show him what is and what isn't in this world,' that's what he said." Pyram's face became his own again and he shook his head a bit at the vagueness of his own words. "Now, some of it is a bit open to interpretation, but he must have known how I'd choose to take it, so allow me to show you a bit of ‘what is.’" 

He hooked his arm around Eofyn's as the prince glanced down at his new cut for a distraction, trying to make it obvious that he was, in fact, ignoring Pyram's pretentious efforts at playing mentor. 

It worked well enough until Pyram's guiding hand led him straight into someone else. Feeling the jolt, Eofyn immediately looked up to begin a profuse apology, but he found that surprise had stolen his breath away from him.

The girl, the healer, was right in front of him, looking ready to apologize herself until her eyes flitted to his neck and took fearful notice of the absence of a crystal there. Her gaze shot back up to him and her eyes were so wide that he could see himself in them.

"I'm very sorry," Eofyn managed to say. He could see the recognition in her face, so he quickly caught her elbows before the girl could even think of kneeling. "Please don't," he begged her with a cringe on his face. He abhorred the tradition of kneeling before royals as much as his father did, but the people wouldn't hear of revoking it.

The poor girl took a moment to look confused before she quickly righted herself and bowed only her head. 

"I'm sorry, my prince," she said softly, but Eofyn could only hear singing. 

"Really, it's nothing," he said as he slowly withdrew his hands from her arms.

The girl nervously averted her eyes and tightly clasped her hands in front of her, her shoulders and arms stiff, and that's when Eofyn saw what he'd done.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, sighing in frustration as he glared at his offending hand. "I..." His eyes shut tightly so he wouldn't have to see hers when he confessed. "I seem to have stained your sleeve." 

The girl looked surprised and glanced down at her elbow, seeing the small blood stain there. She frowned, as if skimming a large list in her mind.

"Are you injured?" she asked, but her voice was more confident now. This was, quite literally, her element. Work needed to be done and she would see it through.

Eofyn laughed softly. "Hardly," he replied, holding out his hand for her to see and hopefully dismiss. The wound had already begun to heal. The stain on her sleeve was likely to be the last of the evidence. How fitting of his luck that it would find its way to her robe.

His hand was quickly wrapped in delicate fingers, and the soft blue of her crystal lit the girl's face. Her skin seemed to glow and Eofyn’s suddenly felt like he’d swallowed sand.

Sensing a bit of awkwardness in the royal in front of her, the girl glanced up with a quirked smile. "My name is Lissa, my prince," she offered. 

"Lissa," Eofyn repeated lamely. "That's a...a very lovely name."

She laughed. He could have cried. 

"Thank you," she said as roses kissed her cheeks. 

He envied them.

"Eofyn!" another voice called joyously from behind him as a firm arm squeezed him by the shoulders just enough to jolt him.

Lissa laughed again. It was worth the embarrassment. 

Eofyn didn't really have to say it, but he did anyway. "Pyram. There you are." A soft, sidelong glare followed.

Pyram ignored it, instead shifting a glistening gaze toward the healer among them who still held Eofyn's hand in hers. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend, Fyn? Don't be rude in front of a lady."

Eofyn blanched at that, his stately upbringing kicking in, as Pyram knew it would. He'd never seen his friend's face so red. That would be a useful image to recall later.

"Of course," Eofyn quickly responded, though not all of the malice had faded. He gestured his free hand to his friend. "Miss Lissa," the girl blushed again at that, so Eofyn smiled more gently, "this is Pyram. And Pryam," Eofyn cast a glance to his so-called advisor, "this is Miss Lissa. She's one of the healers of today's fair, as you can see."

"I can see," Pyram confirmed with a grin. "Thanks for taking care of the prince, Miss Lissa." His eyes shifted downward pointedly. "I see your crystal has stopped glowing."

"Hm?" Lissa hummed, craning her neck slightly toward him as his message processed. Then she looked down and saw her crystal hanging lifelessly around her neck. The wound had healed. 

Eofyn had noticed as well, though he wasn't about to point it out.

Lissa immediately dropped his hand and bowed her head again, and Pyram just waited, hoping the prince would make him proud.

Eofyn blinked at the girl in front of him, wondering why she would be ashamed, but a soft elbow to his side jolted him back to attention. 

Without really thinking it through, like he normally would, Eofyn decided that something here was not right and, as the prince, he had the responsibility to mend it. Thus, he gently lifted Lissa's chin with two fingers that made no demands of her. Her eyes met his through her lashes before her face had fully risen. They looked curious, but not frightened in the least. He was glad of that. 

"I can't imagine why you'd bow," Eofyn laughed smoothly. "You're doing far more for the betterment of this kingdom than I could dream of doing. It is I who should bow to you." And he made to do so.

"Oh no, my prince!" Lissa gasped, grabbing his wrist with one hand and attempting to cover the heat of her face with the other.

Pyram noted the twitch of a grin at the edge of Eofyn's mouth with pride. Very smooth, Fyn.

Eofyn's smile broadened as he looked at Lissa with the confidence of a king. Her eyes grew as she saw something new in him.

Pyram shook his head at the other two, but soon had to look twice at who was making her way toward them through the crowd.

"Sweet Bryta, how did she find us so quickly?" he muttered to himself. It was a new record. Part of him had to admit, he was impressed, but this didn’t bode well for him. His hand came down hard on Eofyn's shoulder. "Pardon, Fyn, but we've got some business to attend to." Two jerks of his head told Eofyn everything he needed to know.

Eofyn's face fell without him even having to look. He actually looked disappointed. That was new. Normally, the interruption of Griselde made him glad to have to turn back. 

"Really?" His voice was laced with disdain and incredulity. Pyram's high eyebrows and thin lips responded with a sense of urgency. "Oh, fine then." He turned back to Lissa and took up her hand in his freshly healed one. "My lady, it was an honor to meet you, and I thank you for your kind services. It seems I have to leave in a bit of a hurry. My apologies..."

"A little more quickly, please."

Eofyn glared at his friend, but his expression softened as soon as he turned back to Lissa. "I would love to pay you for your efforts, but..."

"Oh, sir, please, you don't have to..."

He caught her other hand and stopped her heart.

"You know where to find me." There was laughter dancing in his eyes as he leaned in to her ear. Her searching eyes found Pyram over the prince's shoulder, and she could only take comfort in the sly stare and short nod that Pyram gave her. Then a whisper took her attention away again. "Please do not hesitate to find me there." 

Their eyes met one more time for a moment that knew no measure.

And Pyram had had enough. 

Griselde was mere feet away. It was time to move. He grabbed Eofyn by the collar and dragged the prince away, apologizing with a shout as they began to run.

As Lissa watched the prince of Gelyfed stumble away under the persistent tugging of his guard, she heard another voice above the buzz of the fair.

"Pyram! You foul child, if there is so much as one hair missing from his head, I swear by the souls of Bryta, I'll have you locked in your quarters for a month!"

Lissa could see the stout and angry woman trying to weave through the throng with much more effort than it had taken the prince and Pyram to navigate away from her. They would be fine for now, but, as the prince had pointed out to her, he wasn't a difficult person to find. That woman would catch up with them eventually. 

Imagining that particular moment, Lissa couldn't hope to stifle her laughter at the men's assured fate once they had run out of places to hide.

He was trying to glance behind him in an effort to memorize the streets that would take him back to the plaza, but even that was foolish. There would be a different fair tomorrow.

"Would you focus, Fyn?" Pyram seethed with a tug of Eofyn’s collar.

Eofyn caught his feet as he turned back to the path in front of them. Pyram knew where they were going but Eofyn was just following blindly, as usual. He glanced up to meet Pyram's slightly scolding gaze, but it was more sinister than normal. And then Eofyn knew why. He frowned at the reddish hue of Pyram's crystal. It hadn't glowed in warning of Griselde, so why now?

The irony of the proceeding moment almost found Eofyn bursting with laughter. 

In his determination to call Eofyn back to their current predicament, Pyram had failed to notice a man stepping into his path from a narrow alley and had crashed right into him. In a jarring halt, Pyram fell backward to be caught by Eofyn, but the other wasn't so fortunate. Flashes of red rained down around them and bounced on the cobblestone, framing the man on the ground and accenting the anger that flushed his face. 

The poor man's apples were everywhere and were surely bruised beyond sale now.

Eofyn stepped around a silent and casual Pyram, who simply looked down at the man with a blank stare as he waited for Eofyn to take the lead. This was where Eofyn would come to Pyram's aid, as was their understood way of life. Whoever caused the trouble often had to be saved by the other.

Eofyn put on his most regal smile and offered his hand to the fallen vendor. "It was entirely our fault, sir. I apologize," he began.

The man glared at Eofyn's hand, trailing his eyes upward, most likely to spit in the arrogant boy's face, until he noticed the very thing that had made Lissa take pause before. No crystal. His reaction was somewhat different, however. Eofyn watched it all flash across his face: anger, then fury, then a flash of eager smugness that soon fell into shock, comprehension, disappointment, the swallowing of pride, and, finally, a practiced and unwilling sense of reverence. He begrudgingly accepted Eofyn's extension of remorse and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, but he refused to meet the prince's eye, choosing to cast his eyes to the stones instead. 

It was while they lingered on the ancient pebbles that the man's eyes expressed surprise for the second time. The fierce glare returned and was directed past Eofyn's right ear, aiming to kill.

"Good gracious, he did the math," Eofyn heard Pyram say with a sigh and just a pinch of amusement. Eofyn pivoted to ask his silent question, but Pyram wasn't looking at him. The glint had returned to Pyram's eyes and he rocked on his heels in anticipation.

The other man audibly growled.

"Wylf!" Pyram all but chirped. "My, it's been some time, hasn't it? And haven't you..." his eyes scanned Wylf, but a shrug revealed that their search came up with nothing of use, "...aged well?" In fact, the man’s skin looked like dried leather, but Pyram had little else to work with.

Pyram reveled in watching Wylf visibly make the choice between throttling him or respecting the presence of his future king. It was quite the display of inner turmoil, and Pyram had the pleasure of knowing that he was untouchable, because, despite the constant arguing and incredulous glances, Eofyn liked Pyram. So did the king, for that matter.

But it was that cockiness that quickly made up Wylf's mind. 

Eofyn tensed in confusion as Wylf's hand curled around his shoulder. He looked up at the man with a mildly frantic question in his eyes but was met with no response as he was pushed to the side, tripping just once before recovering in time to turn and watch for Wylf's next move.

Pyram's blazing crystal bounced against his chest as he was shoved against the nearest building, letting out more of an impressed laugh than a cry. 

Eofyn was quick to worm his way into the gap between the two men as Wylf pushed his right sleeved to his elbow.

"Sir, really, we'll pay you for the damage. This isn't necessary."

"An attitude like that is more suited for a Gaernod, wouldn't you say, Wylf?" Pyram goaded brazenly from behind the prince.

Eofyn turned his head to insist that Pyram really wasn’t helping the matter, but turned back to be met with three knuckles firmly planted beneath his left eye. He reeled backward into Pyram and felt his head collide just briefly with the stone wall.

For the next few moments everything went black, so Eofyn depended entirely on his hearing to gauge what was happening around him. There were several sharp intakes of breath, followed by a shrill scream and a loud cry of "What do you think you're doing?" and a more masculine command of "You just stay down!" before light began to bleed back into colors and shapes. And then it was Eofyn's turn to gasp. 

Griselde had found them. Wylf was on the ground where Pyram had apparently thrown him, and Griselde was smacking him across the shoulder left and right and demanding who he thought he was to raise his fist to the prince of Gelyfed. Wylf never did get a word in, and Pyram's shoulders were bobbing with his stifled laughter.

Once Griselde had vented the last of her frustrations onto Wylf, she spun on the other two, her eyes seeking Eofyn before anything else. She went from rage to ruin in seconds at the sight of her beloved prince, and Pryam simply stepped aside to give her a clear path. Eofyn was soon bent in half by the arms that were thrown around his neck. Griselde hugged him tightly until she composed herself enough to bring him to arms' length and bare the sight of his swollen and purple eye. He tried to smile, but it didn't make much of a difference. He winced when she tried to lovingly cradle his face in her hands, and, suddenly, she remembered the true villain. 

She turned toward Pyram at a hauntingly slow pace and stalked up to him, grabbing his ear to drag him down to her level. And then she said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. Eyes narrow, brow low, jaw set, Griselde accented the point of her finger with a stomp of her foot and the message was received. 

Pyram put an arm out for Eofyn, who quickly stepped up to it. Pyram moved the prince in front of him and kept a protective hand on his shoulder for the entire walk back to the castle under the heated glare of Griselde.

"You can't just take him out whenever you have the whim, Pyram!" Griselde scolded him when, at last, they entered through the door. Both boys were in the hall with her, but only one was at fault as far as she was concerned. "You just wait till the king hears of this. If I were him, I'd have a heart attack. Taking him to that fair in the first place..." She was too angry to finish.

"They were healers, Griselde. What possible harm could they have done?" No semblance of respect was given.

"And you knew that's what they'd be, did you?"

"Not at all. I had no idea."

Griselde stood her ground and brought up what they'd been waiting for. "And that man in the street? Was he harmful enough?" She emphasized her indisputable point with a wave to Eofyn, who had just received a cloth full of ice from a maid and pressed it to his eye.

Pyram had a response about life being unpredictable and castles being cages, but he knew that it would get him nowhere and that Eofyn wouldn't approve, so he kept quiet and waited for the nurse to finish.

"You should apologize."

Pyram's hooded and disinterested eyes turned to Eofyn. He bit his tongue to stop himself from smiling at the sight of Eofyn looking like a bewildered cyclops. "I'm sorry you had such a wonderful time at the fair today, Fyn. I'll try to make life a little more droll from now on." He turned back to Griselde with a challenge written on his face.

The fuming woman had some choice words of her own in mind, to be sure, but the innocent ears of the other boy kept them at bay. "I deeply apologize, my prince," she said with a quick bow. "I'll try to keep a better eye on you from now on." She made to leave but turned back on an afterthought. "You've had a trying day, sir. You should retire early, if you don't mind me saying so." Her face revealed that she only really wanted Eofyn to remove himself from his poor choice of company. Pyram narrowed his eyes at her.

"Right," Eofyn donated his first word to the conversation. "Thank you, Griselde." 

Then she left.

The two boys looked at each other with three flat eyes. One shrugged while the other tiredly shook his head, and they, too, left.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

Pyram had already propped his feet up on his desk.

"Thrilling," Eofyn agreed absently as he toyed with the random objects within the reach of his unoccupied arm. He was perched on the corner of the desk.

"Want to go out again tomorrow?"

Eofyn's head shot up; hope touched his eyes. He quickly reined it in.

"I suppose it wouldn't be terrible to venture out while the weather is still warm."

"Uh huh..." Pyram nodded slowly. "The weather. Right. It's very important."

"So you said earlier."

Pyram laughed. "I did, didn't I?"

There was a pause.

"You know, I can think of a certain healer that might be able to help you with that." He nodded to the ice over Eofyn's eye. "We can find her when we go out tomorrow. If you want to, that is. I'm sure she'll be very impressed to hear of the prince who valiantly took a punch for his steward."

That made it sound a bit more gallant than it had felt from Eofyn's perspective, but the prince could only laugh at Pyram's typical attempt to make something bad into something useful. He took in a deep breath and stood, the humor still with him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Pyram." He turned for the door, ignoring the knowing look on his friend's face.

Pyram knew exactly why his friend was leaving so abruptly.

"Think you'll dream of her?" he jibed as Eofyn made it to the hall.

A glare as the door closed was his only reply.

Wearing a smug grin, Pyram reached below his desk for the note that he knew would be tacked there. Not disappointed, he tugged it free and lifted it to the fading light.

Thank you for your efforts at the fair today. Although, perhaps you could avoid street fights from now on? Keep up the good work.

Pyram regarded the note as he would the man who had written it. 

"Don't worry, Your Highness," he said with a smile. "It shall be done.”