In the Heart of the Castle

AN: This is a prequel to another story I'm writing, I wanted to share it :) Any tips to help out a new writer :,(
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In the heart of the castle, two princes sit, a fire crackling at the edge of a wall. Their fathers stood in front of them, arguing and threatening. They copied. Smacks and yells from the young boys, only 7 years old each of them was, small, weak, only kids imitating the pain and suffering of grown men.

A sword was drawn and the boys stop, they gasped and rushed over, both trying to drag the other’s dad away. “Mister McKay!” Screeched Theron, trying to pull the man away from his father while trying to grab at the sword. It bit his skin, tears stinged at his eyes, almost matching the pain of his now bloodied hand. Alistair noticed. He let go of Vance, the other boy’s father, and rushing over. He grabbed the boys wrist, Theron, he remembers the name the king had introduced him as. Staring up at the kings, still fighting and bashing, Alistair dragged Theron away, rushing off to his room. The white bedsheets got covered in the boys blood. Alistair didn’t care. He called for a nurse, that was delivered. He regularly got hurt so it wasn’t the first time. He was a proud boy, always running around for fun. Right now wasn’t the time. The nurse bandaged Theron’s hand, Alistair tightly gripping the other. “Are you okay…?” He asked quietly. “I’m sorry… daddy isn’t usually like that… Do you want some candy… Mom bought me some from Germany the other day…”

Theron stood and pulled from his grip. He stomped toward the door and glared daggers at the other prince on the bed. “I don’t need your stupid help! My Dad is so much cooler than yours- He calls you guys vipers, or like… vampires… cause you guys are no hearts! Hmph! And when I get home, daddy will get me all the candy I want! Which will be none from you!” Theron turned away and ran off, most likely back to the meeting room where the fathers still were. Alistair stared, then, his kind expression, the one with a soft frown and kind eyes, changed to one with a larger frown, sadness in his eyes. He sighed and hopped off the bed, then following down the hall.

Diary of a Middle School Prince

Log 1 of Theron’s Diary, The debates of the current world state.

Date: The Thirteenth Day of August

****Official Log: Today was the final debate on international trade laws. I argued that tariffs are a king's right and a powerful tool. If a rival kingdom disrespects you, why should you reward them with open trade? Let them learn to make their own goods. Prince McKay argued the other side, claiming it's unfair to punish a whole nation for the mistakes of its leaders. His points were... reasonable, I suppose. One could even say valid. However, my main concern was his appearance. He looked utterly exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and he kept yawning during my brilliant points. It was an unprofessional display. Honestly, I found it adorable. Weird. It was weird. To ensure the quality of our future debates isn't compromised by his lack of rest, I took action. I left a simple note in his room that read, "Rest better tonight. This should help." I included a book of calming poems and a silk sleep mask from my homeland, known for its quality. Later, I saw him in the library reading the book. Good. My diplomatic mission was a success.

Aug. 13th,

Commoner translation: Today was the world state debate of if tariffs are helpful now same as they were then. I, of course, was on the ‘yes’ side. They are very helpful! If a kingdom pisses you off why in the gods’ names would you allow them something they want! They can make it themselves! But, McKay was on the ‘no side’. He listed that people in the country should not have to suffer due to the actions of an idiot leader that they most likely didn’t want. His points, to be fair, were valid, in fact I do thing tariffs are very unfair now! However he seemed… tired. His eyes had bags under them and he kept yawning. Honestly, I found it adorable. weird. I left him a sticky note: “Rest better tonight, this should help.” with a poem book and a sleep mask from my home town. I saw him reading it in the library. The care package worked. I win.

Log 1 of Alistair’s Diary, Economics II

Date: The 17th of September

Official Log: An unforeseen diplomatic incident occurred prior to my economics seminar. In a bid to maintain a presentable appearance, I requested a common hair-fastening device from the daughter of a lesser noble house. The individual reacted with unacceptable prejudice and physical aggression, creating a significant breach of courtly decorum. The situation was swiftly neutralized by Prince Theron Blackwood, who, demonstrating a commendable, if unexpected, allegiance to the codes of chivalric conduct, intervened. He delivered a formal censure, citing the noble house's failure to instill proper respect for the crown, thereby stabilizing the immediate environment. He then approached my person to assess the lingering sartorial disarray. Noting the continued instability, he produced a silver hair-fastening implement of fine, non-alloyed craftsmanship. He secured the asset in place himself to ensure my presentation was returned to an appropriate standard of neatness, a necessary action for maintaining royal decorum. The maneuver was executed with efficient, if unorthodox, directness, including a firm grip on my chin to ensure precision. The remainder of the seminar was spent analyzing the complex socio-economic variables of the assigned module. While my overall performance was strong, my focus may have been marginally divided between the material and a subsequent analysis of the preceding event's geopolitical implications. I achieved a B+. It is worth noting that Prince Blackwood's own score, while exemplary, was an A-, not his customary A+, suggesting he, too, was conducting a similar, parallel analysis of the incident.

Sept. 17th,

Commoner translation: Today my hair was messy, and so I tried to keep it out my face. I asked a girl for a hair tie. She gasped, called me a gay, and slapped me. I was so confused and powered through. That is, until, Theron came. He stomped over, yelled at the girl for her homophobic yell and then he walked to me. He grabbed my chin and then put a silver hair clip into my hair! He fucking SQUEEZED MY CHIN and then walked away. I blushed and could NOT focus on my work. I got a B+. He got an A-. He was distracted too, that means.

Log 3 of Theron’s Diary, Hair clip

Date: the 17th-19th of September

Official log: Prince McKay has altered a loaned asset, repainting the silver hair fastener in a Lapis Lazuli pigment. The change is... noted. Its continued deployment is a significant variable. My ability to concentrate on my duties has been compromised as a direct result. Further analysis is required to determine the intent behind this modification and its strategic implications.

Sept. 17-19th,

Commoner translation: Shit fuck I can’t handle this anymore. A few days ago I gave Alistair a hair clip. He looks so cute in it. He’s been wearing it but… he painted it blue. Lapis. I can’t do this. I CAN’T. I need him. I love him. god.

Log 7 of Theron’s Diary, Resolved Conflict

No date was provided for this entry.

Official Log: I initiated a direct dialogue with Prince McKay today to address the recent tensions stemming from our library discourse. The exchange was emotionally charged but ultimately productive. I expressed sincere regret for my role in the conflict and sought clarification regarding his modification of the previously loaned asset. His reasoning was unexpectedly transparent: he stated a desire for public identification with the object's origin, describing a sense of personal affirmation from its display. The candid nature of his response was… overwhelming. I felt compelled to offer a physical gesture of gratitude for his honesty—a brief, platonic press of lips to his facial region—before a strategic withdrawal was necessary to process the interaction. The successful de-escalation has generated a significant surplus of mental energy, which I have since redirected into a new, private analytical project: the composition of a fictional narrative exploring similar diplomatic dynamics on a popular online literary platform. Five chapters have been drafted.

Nov. 12th, Commoner translation: Today, I went to Alistair. I snuffled and almost cried and hugged him. I begged him to forgive me about being an asshole and then actually asked what I wanted to. "Why'd you paint it". He said he wanted it to be know it was mine. Made him feel "marked". I... I couldn't. I kissed his cheek and ran off, huffing and wrote, oh I wrote so fucking much lol. I started this thing on this website called like wattpat, I can't remember but I started this story called "The royal's enemies to the kings loves." Or something like that. I wrote five damn chapters.

He feels marked. By my gift. I am going to spontaneously combust.

Log 12 of Alistair’s Diary, Lapis and Crimson

Commoner translation:The hair clip is blue now, and everyone sees it. People keep asking. I should care, but I don’t. I like it. Theron kissed my cheek yesterday. I still feel it. I want him to do it again. Gods, I’d let him do anything.

Log 1 of unknown film class student, permissional use of the below VHS was given. It shows the princes on the last day of their middle school years.

The ball was tonight. I was excited. I wore a tailored suit with a crimson tie. We had talked about it. He in my colors, a beautiful lapis tie around his slim, marked-up neck, and I, in his. I went to pick him up from his dorm. I knocked, which paused the giggling I heard, “McKay…” I whispered, making sure to sound upset in case it was someone we hadn’t… told.”Alistair. Come. We must be going.” A girl opened the door and tilted her head. “Theron? Hello… Me and Alistair were getting ready for our ball… please don’t fight with him.” I glanced inside and my eyes widened. He wore a pink suit with a red tie, matching the girls pink dress. I could see the Lapis one we agreed upon on the floor. Our eyes met and then he looked away. I clenched my fist and turned away “Whatever, McKay…” I muttered.I walked down the hall and slipped into my own room. I stared out the window for a minute before grabbing a plain black tie. I switch it with my crimson one from before, tossing that one into the firepit. I turn and walk out, making my way downstairs to the ball. I regret it. Couples. Disgusting couples. They're dancing and twirling. I sit and drink quietly. How dare

Lessons in restraint

The first day of high school. Hell. They were supposed to like it here? Yeah its fancy with the good food just like middle but… all of their classes were together. Every. Single. One. God they hated it! How dare the school torture Theron like this! Making him see his… what even were they.. Exes? Yeah, sure, exes.

Theron slipped into class, his dress shoes tapping the cold ground. His heart was pounding in his ears; he refused to act like it was. Weakness was never meant to be shown, especially not as a prince. Especially not when he was about to sit next to Alistair. He sat. Just a soft plop. Alistair glanced over then back down to his book. A lonely nerd. Of course he was. Alistair was, what? A weak dog compared to Theron. Always alone before he came, rejecting princesses and only spending time with himself. Guess hes reverted back to his old self