Trigger warning (Please check the first part of the book for more info)

Virgil sat his face on his hands that were currently resting on a table. His eyes stayed fixed on the flame that moved on top of the candle. 18. He was (almost) 18. It was surreal. That meant it had been 8 years since Damien had taken over, 8 years since his parents had become prisoners.

Vigil eyes flicked to the door at a creak but sighed a little when the kitchen stayed still. Eyes moving back to the candle, Virgil sat. Watching, never acting. That sentence seemed to sum up his life. Watching, listening, obeying, but never acting, not on his own. Not when it came to anything significant, that is.

Virgil huffed quietly, blowing out the candle before he got lost in his head. He ate the cupcake quickly, not bothering to savor it. The only reason he had done this much to celebrate his birthday had been for his parents. They hadn't wanted him to be miserable on his eighteenth birthday. Now he was slightly less miserable, extremely on edge, and a little less hungry.

Removing all proof that he had been in the kitchen at 1 a.m., Virgil clicked the lights off and walked to his tower, carefully avoiding the guards following the rotation Virgil knew like the back of his hand.

After climbing up the (many) stairs, Virgil collapsed onto his bed. Rolling to his side, he let out a half-hearted chuckle at the time on the clock. 2:06 a.m. Rolling onto his back, Virgil blinked back the tears in his eyes, "Happy birthday to me,"

----

When Damien had summoned Virgil to his private office the following morning, Virgil had been worried, to say the least. They had already discussed all the details of Virgil's birthday ball and his performance (which were really just excuses for Damien to throw another party and show Virgil and his abilities off) so there should have been no reason for Virgil to have seen Damien until later tonight.

"Your Majesty?" Virgil asked, entering Damien's study, the guard closing the door behind him with a resounding slam.

Virgil could hear the smirk in Damien's voice as he turned his chair to face the boy, "Ah, Virgil, please have a seat," he said, pointing to the small couch that sat across from the king. Virgil, albeit reluctantly, sat himself on the couch, staying rigid and alert.

It was silent for a few more seconds as Damien finished whatever he had been working on previously before he turned to Virgil, "I wanted to discuss the ball tonight..." he trailed off and Virgil resisted the urge to groan. Why couldn't he just get to the point?

"You see, I have been discussing with the visiting diplomats and some have expressed their interest in a... special performance of sorts,"

"What do you mean?" Virgil asked, feeling the anxiety settle in the pit of his stomach.

"It's simple really; you would sing to those who are interested, in the same way you do for Remus and me occasionally," Virgil stopped breathing; Damien meant that kind of singing. The kind that, once Virgil had turned 16, Damien and Remus took advantage of regularly. But this was new. Virgil had never done it for anybody besides the two Kings. Damien and Remus were... possessive, Virgil supposed. So why would they be willing to share him now?

Virgil couldn't refuse. He had never been able to refuse. But, he could negotiate, "What do I get from this?" He questioned, clenching his jaw.

Damien laughed daintily, before resting his chin on crossed fingers, "Well Songbird," Virgil resisted the urge to shiver, "You and your parents shall continue to live,"

Virgil laughed dryly, hiding his shaking hands under the desk, "Nice try. I haven't fallen for that since I was twelve. You kill my parents, you have no leverage to make me sing. You kill me, you lose me and my voice. Regardless, you lose your precious Songbird, and you wouldn't dare risk that, would you Damien?"

The King rolled his eyes, moving back to his desk, "Yes, what a shame that would be," He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. However, It was obvious that Virgil had won the argument. The prince gasped when Damien turned back around, the key to his parents' room held in his hand. Before he could think to stop himself, Virgil reached for the key, letting out a childish whine when it was pulled away from him. Damien just smirked, moving the key from one hand to the other.

"If you do as I instruct, cooperating fully, you will have complete access to your parents' room," Damien said, holding the key in front of Virgil to affirm his point.

Virgil's eyes looked between the key and Damien, trying to gauge if he was lying, "Any time I want?" Virgil asked, voice nearly silent.

Damien heard him anyways, "Any time you would like. Granted, the guards will be informing me of when you are visiting, and you will only have access as long as you continue to obey but..." Virgil couldn't say no. How could he? Complete access to his parents' room; how could he ever say no to that offer.

"I'll do it," Virgil said quietly, reaching for the key. Damien pulled it away.

"Oh, Songbird, what makes you think I should give this to you now?" It was a test, and Virgil knew it.

It was a way for Damien to get Virgil to acknowledge the power Damien had over him, "If you give it to me now, then you can take it back if I fail to comply and I will be more than willing to put an effort into tonight."

The King pretended to muse over the thought before nodding his head. Virgil slumped in relief. He reached for the key once more and had almost left the room when Damien spoke again, "Oh, and Virgil?" The prince turned around, heart hammering in his chest, "The main ballroom will need to be cleaned before our party tonight. Somehow, none of the servants are available to do it. It will need to be clean by 5:00 PM sharp,"

Virgil swallowed, "Understood, your majesty," he said before tapping on the door to notify the guard he was done. As Virgil clutched the key to his chest, he checked his watch, "I have time," He thought, switching to walk towards his parents' room.

----

"Papa? Dad?" Virgil called as he walked into his parents' apartment. It was quiet for a moment before a door to his right opened and Emile and Remy ran out, clearly haven just woken up.

"Virgil?" Emile asked, putting on his glasses, "What are you doing here?"

"Does it really matter?" Virgil gave a half-hearted chuckle, skillfully avoiding the question, "Just hug me already," His parents didn't hesitate to do so, scooping up Virgil in their arms. They soon sank to the floor, crying.

This seemed to happen every time Virgil visited. They would cry and hug for an unreasonable amount of time ("You can never hug someone for too long, Virgil!" is what Emile claimed but, Virgil wasn't sure he believed that.) Before catching up with each other, acting like they were any regular family. They weren't. And that fact never escaped Virgil; it always lingered in the back of his mind that, no matter how much time he could spend with his parents, they would still be prisoners and he would still be the King's Songbird.

"I want to show you guys something," Virgil started, pulling away from their pile of limbs on the floor, before holding out the key. Seeing their confused expressions, he started to explain, "It's the key to your guys' apartment... it's mine now,"

"Oh!" Emile exclaimed, understanding what Virgil was getting at, "Does that mean you can visit more often?" Virgil could see the hope sparkling in both his parents' eyes. For once he wouldn't have to disappoint them.

"Whenever I want," Virgil said happily, not bothering to mention the obligations that had come with the key.

"That's amazing honey!" Remy yelled, scooping up his family again.

Virgil looked at his watch, frowning when he saw he would need to leave if he wanted to clean the ballroom in time for the ball, "I've... I've got to go but, I'll come visit you as soon as I can! I love you guys,"

Stumbling out of the cuddle pile, Virgil smiled at his parents, who smiled back, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

----

Virgil glared at the dirtied ballroom floor in hopes of scaring it into cleaning itself. When nothing happened, he sighed and resigned himself to his fate. He had been nearly done with the ballroom, only for some of the guards to come in and track mud all over the newly-cleaned floor. Virgil knew the guard rotations by heart, and none of them required trekking through the ballroom. Damien was just an asshole.

Looking at all the entrances and making sure no one was around, Virgil took a deep breath and quietly began to sing, "Oh sing, sweet nightingale, sing, sweet nightingale, high... oh, sing, sweet nightingale," He had only seen Walt Disney's Cinderella once, on accident, but it was one of his favorite movies.

Virgil related to Cinderella a lot, except for the fact that there was no handsome prince coming to rescue him, "sing sweet... nightingale, oh, sing, sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale..." He trailed off, trying to ignore the tears in his eyes.

"Why ever did you stop?" Virgil whipped around, fearing that he would find Remus or Damien, only to see a man he didn't know.

Virgil knew everyone who lived, worked, and resided in or near the castle, and this man was certainly not one of them. That, along with his clean white suit, red sash, and crest on his shoulder, had Virgil knowing he was some sort of royalty, most likely visiting for the ball.

"I apologize if I disturbed you sire, it will not not happen again,"

"Disturbed me?" The man exclaimed, "Quite the opposite actually, that was very lovely!"

Virgil blushed at the praise, scratching the back of his neck as he replied, "I... thank you," Expecting the man to go back to wherever he had come from, Virgil turned his attention to the (muddy, muddy) floors.

"What are you doing?" Virgil jumped, turning around. The man was still there, albeit closer this time, surveying Virgil's work over his shoulders.

"I, um-" Virgil stuttered, confused as to why the man was still here, "Cleaning?" It sounded more like a question than an answer, but the man didn't seem to care.

"All by yourself?" he asked, "Surely there must be someone else who can help you?"

Virgil winced, looking at the remainder of the ballroom that remained dirty, "Nope," he said, popping the P, "Just me..."

Again, he expected the man to leave, but he didn't. Instead, he looked at Virgil for a moment before kneeled down beside him.

"Sire!" Virgil cried, scrambling to help the man up, or to... do something!

"What's wrong?" The man asked softly, baffled by the exclamation.

"You, you should not be kneeling by me, on my level! You are royalty! What if someone sees?"

"Let them," The man said, flashing a dazzling smile, "Where I'm from, everybody are equals. I am a royal, and thus have power, but that would be useless without my citizens, would it not?" That sounded... wonderful. To be equal regardless of your status. Virgil wasn't royalty. No, he lost the title of Prince the day Damien took over. He was now the King's thing, hsi property, his Songbird, and had a status lower than that of any servant in this kingdom or the next. Damien would kill Virgil (or, more likely, seriously injure his parents) if he were to see this.

"You are not in your kingdom, Sire. Things work differently here. Please go, before we are seen." It hurt to send away one of the first people to have shown him kindness in years, but it had to be done.

"Let me help you! If anybody sees us, I will tell them it was my idea entirely, and that you are not to blame for this persistent Prince!" So he's a Prince then, Virgil thought.

"I... we don't even know each other..." Virgil stated meekly, resolve wavering. To Virgil's surprise, the Prince's smile only grew.

"Of course, I forgot to introduce myself!" The man exclaimed, before thrusting his hands up dramatically. It wasn't an invitation, Virgil thought bitterly.

"I am Roman, crown Prince of the Sanders Kingdom! My favorite color is either red or gold, and I have two boyfriends who I love very much!" Virgil raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, "Oh come on my Gloomy Gus, I don't even get a name?"

Virgil huffed, blowing his bangs out of his face, and mumbled, "You can call me... V,"

Despite not getting a full name, Roman beamed. He softly grabbed Virgil's hand and placed a delicate kiss there, causing Virgil's face to burn, "Well then, V. Let get started!"

Yayyy! We've met Roman! Can you guess who his two boyfriends are? (Probably, that was kinda the point)