Belle drew her coat tighter, her footsteps hesitant. Eliott did his best to stay calm even though fear and doubt crashed against his sternum like a tidal wave. Shadows from the tall buildings of the town of Rosewall fell over them, shielding the sun's early rays and preventing most of them from stinging their eyes.

Despite everything, excitement played at the base of Eliott's gut.

It took a lot to convince Belle to come with him to the ground, to explore the city. It had happened a week ago, when he felt the need to escape once more and wandered off to the belltower. Belle had found him there again and they just talked. About the silliest of things. About everything and nothing at all.

Then, Belle sighed wistfully just as Eliott was talking about riding horses or eating dessert in a dark alley. "I wish I could experience that," she said back then, looking at the expanse of the town with such sadness in her eyes. "But I cannot go to the city."

Eliott, being ignorant about the fae experience most of the time, had knitted his eyebrows and turned to her. "Why not?"

"Too dangerous," Belle jerked her chin to her splendid brown wings folded behind her. "One look at these and the humans would run away screaming and make a scene."

Eliott inclined his head to one side. "Can you show your wings at home?" he asked. "Or at least in whatever place you're staying in right now?"

Belle bobbed her head, her wild red locks had been let loose in fiery shades cascading down her shoulders. "Madam doesn't mind," she replied. Her hands ran down the length of her arms once more. Today, she thought it was wiser to wear a long-sleeved blouse. "She had grown up surrounded by fae with her house in the forest. I was lucky enough to start working for her. She's senile too so can't really tell the difference between a human and a fae. I don't think she even knows I have wings," she gave a small chuckle at that. "Or horns."

Eliott had breathed a sigh of relief back then. It's really lucky Belle hasn't been with a murderous psycopath who thought of fae as moving targets to shoot at. But...what about thousands or millions others who weren't as fortunate?

"Do you still want to go to the city?" Eliott dared to ask aloud. Belle turned away from the sky and faced him. She had a bemused look on her face, telling Eliott she was listening. He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, I think I know of a way to get you there."

Belle raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

Eliott raised a finger to the air, wagging it towards somewhere behind Belle. "Hiding your wings," he said. "We can stuff them in a satchel or something. Then, you can roam the town without having to worry about them being seen."

She wrinkled her nose at the thought. "Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?" she leaned against the sill and propped her hin on her palm. "I certainly don't like walking around with my wings bouncing behind me like a swinging ball."

So...scratch that plan.

But Belle had smiled back then. "I would love to try a pastry from Rosewall. Would want to buy it for myself like you humans do," she said. Her tone told Eliott she thought nothing of it as a fever dream with no chance of coming true. "But I don't have the copper for it and I couldn't even step foot inside the town without stirring trouble. Fae aren't allowed in unless they're there for slavery."

Eliott licked his chapped lips. It's been a while since he last drank something from the palace. The stark winds blowing through the open room of the tower didn't help either. "What if they won't know you're fae?"

Belle blinked and Eliott had felt hope growing at his gut, gnawing the traces of logic and practicality in his system. And so, he began to formulate his plan.

That's how they ended up in the streets of Rosewall with Belle wearing an oversized coat fit for the bulkiest man in the Empire's army. Eliott pilfered it from one of the coat hangers scattered around the palace. It might have belonged to some duke or marquess visiting his father for an audience. He didn't particularly care.

He threw it over Belle, all the while telling her to fold her wings around herself like a makeshift corset. She didn't sound so thrilled as it was far from the usual form she was used to keeping her wings but she gave it a try.

And now, Eliott had learned to smuggle her past the checkpoints in Rosewall, the ones leading to the busier parts of the town. Eliott had never been a good liar but if it meant Belle getting a taste of the pastry she was talking about, then it's worth it.

Somehow, without meaning to or even knowing about it, Belle made him want to give only the best for her. It could be because of her honesty and her nonchalance when she's around him. With her, he didn't have to think about her motives or whether she was scheming to achieve an end. With her, he didn't have to exercise his brain to the point of thinking of quips and verbal saves for up to four or five exchanges ahead.

Through the rare moments such as those he spent with Belle, he could shed the mantle he had borne upon himself and just be the purest he could be. Minus the crown, the formalities, the servants flitting around him, and the importance placed upon his ancestry and bloodline, he was just a boy with a dream to make the world a better place. He was just Eliott. Not a je Clair. Not even anyone worth people's dimes.

He found these moments quite...freeing.

So, as a human would, he would fight to keep this ridiculous balance he found. Up to the end of days.

"Hey, are we really heading the right way?" Belle said from the side of her teeth. Eliott had to crane his ears towards her to be able to hear her question over the noise of horses cantering and people chattering. "We have been going down this road forever."

"Relax," Eliott replied despite him being anything but. "We're just going to where my friend was selling the pastry you wanted and more. They have this delicious frozen milk there. I hear it's a hit since they came up with it."

Belle's eyebrows creased. Her hands played absently against the hem of the coat thrown over her wings. They have been walking for quite some time and no one has noticed or even looked at them strangely. Things were going well.

"Frozen milk?" she clarified, scratching the side of her face. "It's hard to produce cold when it's not winter. How do they do it?"

Eliott shrugged. If anything, in a heat like this in the middle of Lezeris summer, it was almost as if there was magic being worked inside his friend's shop. One glance at Belle and he could tell she was thinking the same thing.

When the alleys became familiar, Eliott felt his steps quickening. Belle started lengthening her strides to stay beside him. Waves of caution rolled off her entire stance after he told her to stay close to him at all costs. "Nothing will happen as long as I'm with you," he assured her before they departed the belltower where they agreed to meet.

The recognizable tavern owned by the Winglass crawled closer and closer. A stately brick building painted green, it was easily the only splash of nature in this rigid block. Flowers with white petals, who grew in single blossoms, peppered the front yard, flanking the meager steps leading to the single, wooden door punched into the facade.

A glass-paned window had frosted long ago, blocking most of the view from the inside. Knowing Hopper, Eliott could guess the boy wanted it to be like that in the first place. That boy couldn't be bothered to clean anything meticulously for all his life.

Eliott gave Belle a quick nod before cranking the handle replacing traditional knobs by the door. Then, he swung the door inside. Instantly, the smell of freshly-baked bread and newly-set coffee smacked him in the face. A lazy smile spread from his lips. Without even glancing at Belle, he knew she was finding it delightful too.

Neat arrays of chairs and tables with a maximum of four chairs passed them by as they trudged towards the single counter in the whole room. Their footsteps creaked against the popping floorboards, earning several odd stares from the people already lunching inside. A bit early for that, wasn't it?

"Hey, Hopper," Eliott dropped into the single stool next to the counter. A few steps from him lay a glass-paned cabinet displaying the famed pastries. "Long time."

A lanky boy dressed in a simple tunic and loose trousers turned from wiping the tables behind the counter. His face brightened when his eyes landed on Eliott. "Hey, you," he said in a too-casual tone unfit for a conversation with a royal. "What brings you here, man?"

Eliott chuckled and jerked his chin at Belle who had already crouched in front of the cabinet, ogling slack-jawed at the delectables behind the glass. "Help her to some of those?" he turned back to his friend who had begun rounding the counter. The leaf of his apron bounced against his legs with every leaping bounds he took.

After a few strides, he reached the cabinet and crouched by Belle. With a reflex fit for a spooked animal, Belle scrambled away from Hopper. Eliott lurched to his feet and took Belle's shoulders. "It's alright," he muttered under his breath so only Belle could hear. "He's a friend. He's going to get you those pastries. Which one do you want to try?"

Belle's throat bobbed as she gulped whatever dread she was feeling. Without a word, she drew away from Eliott and pointed at the pastry with pink jam oozing from it. "How much for that?" she asked, her voice hoarse for some reason.

Hopper stood up and grabbed a porcelain plate from a stack slated atop the counter. He scooped Belle's request and laid it on the counter. Eliott invited her to settle into a stool beside him as he retook his seat.

Eliott was about to say he was going to pay for it when Belle sank her teeth into the bread. He blinked. Okay, nevermind. She's lost in her own world judging from the haze of fulfillment clouding her features.

A chuckle took his attention away from the fae and back to his friend. Hopper had braced the counter, his fingers tapping an inconsistent rhythm against the wood. "Bit strange to come here with a woman," he said. "Where'd you find her?"

Eliott drew circles on the wooden surface with his own fingers. "Would you believe it when I say she found me?" he smiled at the confused look on his friend's face. No matter how much Eliott explained it, he wouldn't get it anyway. So, Eliott left it at that. "She's a friend. A dear one."

Hopper smirked. "What, they're that rare to you?"

"Try growing up in a place where everyone is out for your throat," Eliott said, barely biting back a retort that would expose him having grown up in none other than the Rosewall Palace.

Hopper seemed to sense Eliott's shift as well because he chuckled and said, "Can't relate," he said. "Wasn't born with a steel spoon in my mouth."

"I'm Belle," a hand flitted past Eliott's periphery, extending towards his friend. He turned to find her already finished with her first pastry and smiling. She had never looked so human at that moment. "What's your name?"

The boy blinked, his gaze flickering ever so slightly in Eliott's direction. Then, he took Belle's hand and shook it. "Hopper," he said in reply. "Hopper Winglass."

Belle bobbed her head. "That's a pretty name," she said. Her old humor and quirkiness were returning. "You own this place?"

Hopper rolled his shoulders. "Will own," he corrected. "After my parents pass on, or something. For now, I'm just the unpaid laborer."

To that, Belle laughed. It wasn't a dainty chuckle hidden behind a cupped fist. It was an unhindered display of amusement. A guffaw, at best. "You have no idea how much I relate to that," she said. "It's life, isn't it?"

Hopper snorted. "You tell me," he said. "What else would you like?"

The sparkle in Belle's eyes couldn't have burned brighter than it did that moment.

When the door to Hopper's tavern closed behind them, Belle tucked her coat around herself once more. She was filled to the brim with all the sweet treats she had stuffed herself with and Eliott was several pounds lighter with all the copper he paid Hopper. Sir Geoffer wasn't kidding when he advised Eliott to bring more bags of coins before he went out. Eliott ended up needing them for real.

Eliott glanced at Belle. A satisfied smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "So, how was the experience?" he asked.

"Everything I have dreamed of and more," she replied. "Thanks for that. I will never forget this day."

From the corner of his eye, Eliott saw a few children whizz through the road in a set of pure glee. Peals of laughter and carefree footsteps rang across the slightly dim alley. All around them, humans dressed in plain clothes milled about. Some bought from markets and stalls while others straddled horses or loaded crates to the back of open carts. It was a normal day for most of them.

"Will we get to do this again?" Eliott craned his neck to the sky despite it being crowded with rows of red shingles and brick walls. "Maybe we'll get to try the frozen milk too."

Belle wrinkled her nose. "Wasn't too hung up about that though," she said. There will be more times like this because it's fun."

Eliott dared to blurt, "Was it because of the food or because I paid for everything?"

"Both," Belle quipped back. "Although, for the record, you offered. I would have paid for it with my own coppers. Someday."

Eliott tucked his hands into his pockets. "When you're with me, you don't need to pay for anything," he said. "Is that okay?"

Belle opened her mouth to reply but she was thrown backwards before she could. A child had barrelled straight to her and sent her to the ground. She stopped her fall by letting go of her coat and catching her weight with her wrists. Eliott whipped towards her, to check for injuries or something, when his eyes landed on her body.

To his horror, the brown feathers wrapped around her chest were in full view. The child, a small boy of about five, stared at them with wonder. Then, someone screamed behind Eliott.

"Fae!" a frayed voice of a man floated in the air and stirred the rest of the passers-by into action. Feet flitted around Eliott, too fast for him to make sense of what's going on. Rocks arced towards him, finding their target somewhere on his feet. Wait—

He looked down to find Belle hunkered into herself. Her head was inside the protection of her arms. A delicate whimper bled from her lips. Her hands scrambled to draw the coat tighter around herself. Eliott Gritted his teeth. A shadow whizzed past his periphery and his reflexes caught up. His hand slapped a tomato out of its trajectory—one that's supposed to end on Belle.

"Wait—" he tried again, aloud, this time.

Voices overlapped each other as panic rose to a peak. Mothers cradled their children close. Men forgot about their horses and crates, rushing to protect other people from a non-existent threat. Eliott knelt beside Belle and used his body to shield her from the physical tirades. He would give anything to be able to protect her from the verbal and emotional tirades too.

As it was, he couldn't do anything.

"Somebody call the soldiers!" a woman's voice speared to his ears. Eliott's blood drained from his face. Not the soldiers. Not them.

Eliott gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on Belle's shoulder, so much that his nails started digging against her skin. He had to do something. Anything. She didn't deserve this. It was his fault she was here. He brought her here, straight into the lions' den. He pushed her here.

It was his fault and he should own up to it. No matter the consequences.

So, he paused his desperate huddle to lead Belle away from the crowd and raised his head. "No one is going to call anyone," he declared in the voice he only used when giving out orders. "I forbid it."

"Yeah? And who are you, boy?" a man with a pitchfork screamed from the rim of the crowd. "Whose name do you carry to be able to tell us what to do?"

Eliott leveled his gaze at the man's straw hat. "I am Eliott je Clair, Crown Prince of the Lezeris Empire, heir to the Rosewall Throne," he said, barely thinking of the words pouring out of his mouth. "If I say you are mute, you are mute. If I tell you to cut off your arm, you will. And I say there is no fae in your midst today. I say you're to never breathe a word of this to your peers, your families, and to any soul who didn't know."

Eliott stepped forward and he swore that the first line of people stepped back. "I am always watching. If I know you've disobeyed me, if I found out you've never honored my decree," he growled. "I'll make you pay. A thousand-fold of what's due you."

He only meant it as a threat but looking at how Belle shook against his body, he found that he meant it. For real.

And for once, having that murderous rage, that primal urge inside him...it didn't scare him at all. Rather, he embraced it. There's something in him that wanted to burn the world until it ran red if it meant being able to start anew and better.

As long as it was better than this.