a/n; remember to comment! commenting really boosts my motivation & that means faster updates! don't be a silent reader!

—

Three years had been a horrendously long period of time peppered with bitterness. You grew up quickly, with your height inching close to your mother's head. You were tall for your age, and you often towered over your cousins.

Those three years had been nothing short of brutal. You felt unbearably lonely confined within the four walls of your house, like there was a quiet echo following behind you, like there was a prison ball chained to your ankle. In those three years, you found that you had never looked forward to anything. Apart from the small moments in which you would bake blueberry pies and make dried mangoes with your mother, everything was pure pain.

You had to keep reminding yourself that all of this suffering was to serve Silas. To serve the future Emperor. This fact should have caused you to be resentful of him, but instead, it did the very opposite. You liked having a purpose. You liked knowing you were of use to someone.

Silas's face had started to blur in your head, and you would reread your own journal entries to remember the affection you had for him. It was hard loving someone whom you had not seen for three years, but it was also easy, for at times, you could still think of his rare laugh, bright and fond — you could still think of the fun the two of you had together.

You wondered if you were foolish to believe that things would remain the same. Would it be easy to slide into the roles that the two of you had assumed before? To ease into the notion of being friends with him again? You wondered how much you had changed. Apart from getting various skills drilled into you, apart from growing taller and sturdier — had your heart changed either? What about your soul? Would Silas still remember the moments you shared, or had they been tossed away?

You had thought about Silas for these three years. You hoped Silas had done the same. To move from seven years old to ten was a big jump — would he have cut his shoulder length hair by now, or had it grown much longer?

Today was the day you would meet him again. You were excited beyond belief, and yet worry seeped into your bones. You wanted desperately to have the same sort of relationship that you had shared with him before, but what if he would choose to ignore you? What if training had hardened Silas until he was a nothing but a shell of the person he was before?

All these questions, and yet you wouldn't get the answers until later. You had spent the whole morning antsy and jittery until your mother had finally walked into your room and told you to get ready. Your bones and muscles were aching and yet relieved to have been granted a day's rest from the three years of non stop consecutive training.

I can't wait to show off everything I've learned! You thought excitedly, let's see... I've learned poison resistance, I've learned healing, mana casting Tier Five, and...

The list went on. You were definitely qualified to directly serve the Emperor. Your father had been satisfied with your progress, and had imparted a few words of praise towards you. You glowed under his sweet words and withered under your deteriorating relationship with your mother.

Did relationships have an expiry date? Because it sure seemed like your relationship with your mother was slowly nearing expiration. Inwardly, you were both aware of your love for each other, but it was getting harder and harder to show it. You had been her dear child once, and yet now as you moved on into your teenage years, she recoiled from you.

("The prince will be ten," you said idly, "I can't wait to see what he'll be like!"

"Ten..." your mother murmured. "And you're unofficially turning twelve this year, aren't you? You're sure growing up fast.")

If there was another person who seemed to be as terrified of growing up as you, it would be your mother. She looked for small pieces of your adolescence — she traced the height markings you had made when you were young, she looked for every crevice and gap that told her of your childhood. Your mother missed who you were, and yet you were heartily confused: were you not the same person? And now would be the last time you would see her for a very long time. It was strange to think of how you were going to be reunited with Silas and yet separated from your mother at the same time. You promised to write her letters.

"Ready?" Your father glanced at you, "remember what I've told you. Be proper and polite to His Highness. Don't overstep boundaries. And I know that you and him were once friends —"

"We are friends," you corrected him with a stubborn jut of your chin.

"Right," your father said carelessly, "but yes, even if you two are friends, you can never account for how much he would have changed in these past three years."

You mulled over this. "Daddy, have I changed?"

"Of course you have. Everyone changes." Your father's words were drenched in bitterness, but not directed at you. "Even people who you originally trusted can turn out to be vicious and dangerous. And of course, people change due to circumstances."

You didn't like that. You didn't like change, not one bit. You would have liked it if everything remained the same. That would make life so much easier.

"I don't want to change."

"You'll have to mature, Y/n," your father said in exasperation, "well, you've grown quieter, so that's good."

Quieter? You wondered if you had truly grown quieter. It was more like you had no one to talk to for these years. You had suppressed hundreds and thousands of conversations and had swallowed them down your throat painfully because you had simply no one to speak to. No one to say nonsense to. So in the presence of absence, you died a little.

"Okay," you said meekly. "I've grown taller too, haven't I?"

Your father's eyes softened. It was at these times you would start to hope again — you would start to think that perhaps a happy family would be possible. But in the end, those wishes never came true.

The fighting had ceased. Icy silence had replaced it instead, and the air in your house was frigid with tension. Everyone went about their own day mechanically, and you found yourself missing the old days of yelling. At least then, you would know that your parents felt emotions towards each other, whether it was negative or positive.

"You have." Your father tore his eyes away from you. "You certainly have."

You cheered up a little. One aspect you did like about growing up was getting taller.

—

"Wow, this hasn't changed at all..." you said in awe, glancing around the palace. "I see some new paintings, but overall, it looks pretty much the same."

"Go along now. I'll have to fill in the necessary documentation on your behalf," your father looked at you, forehead creasing, "remember, Y/n: you are the prince's new butler from now. Officially. Keep in mind everything I've taught you and make sure nothing goes to waste. There will be eyes on you, for you will be the future Emperor's right hand man. I'll allow you to fool around for your first reunion with your — friend — but if you play around like you used to, you'll find yourself in serious situations."

"Yes, Daddy," you said quietly. Some mirth had left your tone.

"You're twelve now. The palace isn't a playground anymore."

"I know." You deflated a little. Did this mean you wouldn't be able to at least stroll in the gardens? Wade in the lake? How dismal. Then what exactly would you be doing? Well, technically you would be babysitting Silas, which you had already been doing initially, but now...

Official Butler. Official. That was such a ferocious word. You shuddered. But yes, you were twelve now. Another year, and you would be a teenager. Time sure flew by.

"I have matters to do. Knowing that you've already memorized the interior layout of the palace, it should be easier for you to await His Highness at the hall." With this, your father walked away briskly. You noted how busy he always seemed to be — and you wondered if you too, would be as tired looking as he was. You secretly hoped not.

Left to your own devices, you started to walk aimlessly through the palace. You looked at paintings on the wall and remembered the old ones that used to be there, now replaced. You looked at the maids milling about and gossiping, seeing how some of them looked more tired, whilst the others were fresh faces. There were murmurs as you strolled along.

"That's the..."

"I pity him. His Highness is spiraling out of control — how can that poor boy possibly keep him in line?"

"Did you not hear the rumors? Apparently, they were friends before."

"But look. The Emperor and Butler were also — wait! He's looking our way!"

You didn't pay them any mind. After all, you had gotten used to them before. They could speculate all they wanted. Nothing they said held an element of truth — or at least, you assumed it was all mindless gossip.

Your father had told you to wait for Silas in the palace hall. And yet you couldn't help but wonder if Silas would be in the palace gardens, anticipating your arrival. After all, that was where you two had always played together, right?

The rational part of your brain told you to abide by your father's orders. But soon, you found yourself abandoning decorum and quickly running towards the direction of the palace gardens, heart beating erratically against your chest. Your legs thudded against the floor as you realized how much faster you had gotten since three years ago. The training had made you fit and healthy.

I'm meeting Silas, the words sank into your brain. It hadn't quite processed yet. You had already known that you were meeting Silas, but now that you knew that you were really going to see him face to face — it sent tingles down your spine. You would be able to talk to him and hug him joyfully.

And Elias, of course. Your beloved little pet.

You found yourself in the palace gardens, feet treading on soft grass. You swallowed as you saw a patch of wilted daffodils. Three years ago, Silas and you had prided yourselves on being the only ones to enter the secret hideout you two had found. But now it seemed that Silas hadn't visited it either, for everything was all gloomy and dead.

Your heart fell. Was your father right? Had Silas changed? It seemed the prince hadn't even bothered to visit your favorite haunt. How upsetting.

You walked a little further in. You looked at the soft moss that you and Silas used to lay on. You looked at the apple tree that you two used to steal from. You looked at the swings, the lake, the...

The initials. You suddenly remembered them. You walked some more, this time more briefly. Your eyes caught the sight of the piles of wood you two had collected in bid to make the treehouse. Those were sweet, sweet memories — would they elude you, or would you be able to create better ones with Silas?

You soon grew frustrated. Just where was the tree that you two had carved into? Just where —

That frustration turned into frantic motions as you started to circle around the same spot.

"I could have sworn it was here," you whispered feverishly, "I could have sworn it —"

You felt Silas before you saw him. Arms enveloped you and a weight pushed you down, sending you toppling over to the ground. It was simply a mess of limbs tangled together: you blinked your eyes as the sight of gleaming golden hair made your heart race.

For the first time in a very long while, it felt your soul had finally been opened. It felt like there was warm sunshine streaming through you, dripping into consciousness, pulling sunsets and stars over you. You leaned into Silas' touches and returned the hug, breathless.

"Silas," you breathed out. "Oh, Silas," you said shakily, eyes shining with joy, "It's been so terribly long since I last saw you." You found his name slipping from your lips instead of his title, but at this moment, you couldn't care less. Not about him being your master, not about you being his servant — right now, your universe simply centred around your pure relationship with him.

You imagined writing this day down onto your journal with not one exclamation mark, not two exclamation marks, but three. That was how over the moon you were.

Purple eyes met yours and they were glittering. You marveled at how tall Silas had gotten. You were still slightly taller than him, but he was very tall for his age. His hair had gotten much longer. He had certainly become much stronger too, but his hug had knocked the wind out of you.

"Y/n," he spoke your name like a prayer, arms wrapped around you. "Three years, Y/n. I was so lonely without you."

You giggled, ruffling his hair. Or at least, you attempted to, with him encasing you in such a tight hold. "I know!" You said merrily, your heart singing tunes of joy. "I've missed you so much. There hasn't been a day that has gone without me thinking of you. Your speech is all refined now!"

Your father was wrong. Silas and you were still friends, after all! Silas had not forgotten you. You felt like you were dancing amongst clouds, your limbs soft and floating. It felt like there was a surreal feeling permeating your senses and tickling your ear. You grinned widely at Silas and sat up, pushing him off gently so you could see his face.

Silas had grown slightly into his features. You could tell he would be a heartbreaker in the future. He still had a few years left to hold onto his baby features.

"How have you been?" You said cheerfully. "Oh, do you know where the tree with our initials went? I couldn't —"

"I cut it down." Silas said flatly.

"Oh, you —" then his words registered in your brain. "You what?"

"At one point of time, I wasn't allowed to go into the gardens. In fact, I was banned from it because I was supposed to be studying," Silas murmured, "but I wanted a reminder of you, so I decided to sneak out one day to slice off the bark with our initials on it."

"But then —" you continued to sputter. "But the whole tree disappeared!"

"Well, yes," Silas shrugged. "I changed my mind and decided that I wanted the whole tree. It's in my bedroom now."

"There's a whole tree in your bedroom?" You said, aghast. "And how did you cut down a whole tree?"

Silas shrugged again. "I just used magic."

You were once again reminded of how formidable Silas was. Of how powerful he was. You smiled, amused, and propped yourself up with your elbow, belly against the grass. "Let's update each other on what happened," you told him. "Then I wanna see the tree in your bedroom. Was it a big tree?"

"Not that big," Silas said after a while. "Maybe we thought it was big because we were a lot shorter then. It can fit into my room."

"Maybe your room is just really big. I mean, you're the prince. You're bound to have a gigantic room." You looked around. You had just remembered  about your dearly beloved bird. "Oh, and where is Elias?"

"In a cage. Also in my room."

You slapped Silas lightly on the arm. "Hey." You accused him. "Don't confine him there!"

"He didn't want to do anything without you," Silas defended himself, "and I thought that if he went out looking for you, he would get himself killed."

"Fair point," you huffed. "I can't wait to see him again. Is he fat now?"

"No, not really. He doesn't eat much."

"Aw," you said, disappointed, "I thought he had a really good appetite. He used to love the peaches I brought."

"Something tells me he'll start eating a lot now that you're back," Silas said wryly.

"Do you think he'll be happy to see me?" You asked Silas quizzically. "He will be, right?"

"Definitely," Silas murmured. He studied you. You were as radiant as he had remembered — no, you seemed even brighter, even more beautiful than when he had last seen you. Your smile was wide and charming, your grin was toothy and messy, and your words were as light and gentle as ever. Your touch was still as warm as ever. You were quieter than last time, with slightly less enthusiasm within you, but you were still you. You still had the same essence that had gotten Silas to decide to become your friend.

"So," Silas said. "What was your training like? You used to dread it. But now it's over."

"It's over, huh?" You said wistfully. "Those years, I felt like I was living in hell. But now I feel accomplished. You know that feeling? When you thought something was so miserable, but now that it's over, you start to wonder if it was really that bad? Or maybe I'm just so happy right now that it's starting to affect all my negative memories." You giggled again. "But my training wasn't too special. Normal ones, I suppose. What about you?"

Silas had a distasteful expression on his face. "Swordsmanship lessons. Mana lessons. Etiquette lessons. It was all the same things."

"You didn't get into any trouble, right?"

"No." Silas lied.

He had gotten into a lot of trouble. You didn't need to know that.

"Nice," you said, satisfied. You extended an arm towards Silas, slowly getting up. "I wanna see Elias. We can come back here later and do what we used to do. We can bring snacks along too, of course. And then I can see my room. I'll be staying here from now on, after all!"

Silas took your hand and stood up. If he had his way, he would have gone wandering about the gardens with you like he had before. But still, he followed you out and into the palace halls, where you two were supposed to be.

"I knew you would come to the gardens," you said conversationally, "I just knew. It was like a small secret we had."

Silas knew, too. The servants and knights had repeatedly told him to wait in the hall, but he couldn't be bothered. He had slipped off to the gardens by himself. After all, who were they to instruct him?

"Me too," Silas whispered.

"Some of the staff here are replaced, huh?" You looked around.

"My father replaced them. He replaces them occasionally, except for the ones who are extremely loyal to him. That's why your father is still around. Well, butlers are always going to be present." Silas glanced at you.

"Oh." That made sense.

You were trailing after him until you caught sight of a gardener crouched in the corner, seemingly wincing. You frowned — your father often said kindness was foolish, but you simply hated seeing anyone in pain.

"Give me a moment, Silas," you said hurriedly, briskly walking towards the gardener. He had given himself a nasty cut with the tools he had, and was currently trying to bandage it to no avail.

"Oh dear," you said anxiously, "you're bleeding."

"Ah — the young butler! Oh, it's fine," the gardener assured you, "His Highness might not be too happy if you leave him."

"Oh, don't talk nonsense," you said lightly, "Silas is very understanding."

The gardener's eyes widened at you calling him by his name. You hastily corrected yourself. "His Highness won't mind."

The gardener looked very doubtful. "His Highness seems to be glaring at me."

"Don't be ridiculous." You turned around. Silas was now offering you a small smile. You turned back, and shook your head. "Don't worry. I promise you that His Highness really doesn't mind. See? He smiled! Now, I'm just going to use some things I learnt during my training..." you trailed off, scrunching your nose.

Healing magic was something useful you had learned. You watched eagerly as you imparted the blue light from your fingers to the gardener's wound. The wound slowly recovered, and the cut disappeared like it had never existed. The gardener looked at it in awe. "Young Sir, you really are splendid."

You smiled at him. "You're alright now, I hope?"

"Yes. It's all thanks to you," the gardener said gratefully, "I—" then he jumped visibly and pointed shakily behind you. You frowned in confusion.

"His Highness — His Highness is bleeding!" The gardener managed out.

What?

You turned around immediately, and there was the sight of Silas bleeding heavily, a knife lodged into his abdomen.

Your jaw dropped. Where had the knife even come from?

The gardener's sharp eyes landed on the royal insignia on the knife. It was the prince's own.

The situation started to sink into the gardener's head. The mad crown prince had stabbed himself just because he was jealous. And the crown prince was only ten — there was no telling what else he would do once he grew older. The gardener didn't know whether to be terrified or amused, but decided it was better to simply cast that information out of his mind.

The gardener decided there and then to leave his job. He scurried away immediately.

Silas watched the gardener leave, pleased. He turned to you, smiling sweetly. "I'm bleeding too, Y/n."

"Was it some assassin? But that's such a peculiar situation. That's — nevermind — I'll heal you," you said anxiously, starting to panic. "You really get hurt too often. You're ten, and you're still being so careless with yourself. How did a knife even come out here?"

Silas looked at your hand on his wound as you desperately tried to heal it. It was cute, he found, watching you worry about him. You were now his butler, were you not? It wouldn't make sense for your attention to be elsewhere. Yes, he did like how you helped others — your genuine selflessness was a trait he admired — but weren't you supposed to serve solely him? For a year, you had been Silas's only friend. And Silas had been your only friend.

It wouldn't do anyone good for you to get another one, when Silas was only going to stick to you.

"Silas?" You frowned. Silas hasn't answered your question yet. "I'm asking you just how you managed to get a stab wound to your chest in the middle of nowhere!"

"Must be magic by assassins," Silas told you, contented with what he thought was a brilliant — but insidious — plan. All he had done was simply pluck the knife from his magic inventory. Besides, the pain was fine — he had endured worse. "I suppose you'll have to stick by my side at all times so I won't get hurt, right?"

You were too upset by his wound, and too happy that you had been reunited with him.

"Okay," you readily agreed.

—

haha silas is crazy lol

he's probably the craziest yandere while anton is the worst yandere lol... again, silas is a blend of anton + dion and dion is a pretty big green flag so

this chapter felt a little weird to be ngl 😣😣 idk why

regardless I hope u enjoyed! remember to add to your library + vote!

how was it?