a/n; remember to comment as commenting always gives me a lot of motivation! vote too and don't be a silent reader!

—

After the whole ordeal was over, you finally managed to visit Silas's room. You had wanted to rest for a little while, for every time you healed people, you tended to get a little giddy. Thankfully, Silas's wound was a lot less serious than it had looked. It was mostly surface level, and it only took a little mana to fully heal his wound.

And now, as Silas opened his room doors — doors! Could you believe that? —  you let out a sharp gasp.

No fair, you thought in awe, his room is so big!

Silas's room was obscenely huge. With a bathroom so big it rivaled the size of your cottage, along with the tree that was implanted right in the middle of the room — it was certainly a bedroom befitting of a prince. Hanging off one of the branches was a golden cage, and you gave an excited squeal as you rushed towards it.

Elias chirped and danced merrily as he caught sight of you. Silas unlocked the cage as you scooped Elias up into your arms, cooing gently at him. The bird was warm and feathery in your hands.

"Long time no see, Elias!" You said excitedly, kissing his feathers. "Aren't you glad I'm back?"

Elias pecked the palm of your hand affectionately, flying towards your shoulder to perch on it. He nuzzled his beak into your neck, taking delight in finally standing on his rightful place.

You sat down on the room floor as you glanced around. There was luxurious furniture littered everywhere, as well as large, framed windows — but apart from them all, Silas's room was devoid of personal touch. There were no little drawings hung up on the walls — there was simply nothing that showed an indication of Silas's interests and likes.

"Your room is really...bare," you said finally, "I mean, it has a bed, a desk, and it has chairs, but..."

"What does your room look like?" Silas asked curiously. He wondered if he would ever get the chance to peek into the house you lived in. He imagined it to be surrounded by flora and fauna, for you seemed incredibly well-versed in things relating to nature.

"Oh," you said, pleased that he asked that question. "For starters, I have all my favorite books kept in one bookshelf. Sometimes, when I really like a book, I save up and buy two copies of it. That way, I can annotate one."

"Annotate?" Silas furrowed his eyebrows, "you mean you collect textbooks?"

"No!" You laughed, "I collect storybooks."

"Why would you want to annotate on a storybook, then? It only makes sense if you write in a textbook."

"When I find really pretty words and sentences, I underline them to make it easier to find in the future," you explained, "and I write my own thoughts by the side. This way, I can truly pen down everything I'm thinking. And besides, next time, when I want to reread the story, I'll be able to see what past-me thought of the book."

"I see," Silas mulled this over. "You wrote a lot in your journal too, didn't you? You must really love reading and writing."

"I do," you flushed, "but well, I don't write in my journal anymore."

"What? Why?" Silas frowned. Hearing that you no longer journaled was odd to him. You had told him numerous times in the past that journaling was an activity that you would always do, and that it was something that brought much relaxation to you. So why would you stop now? It just didn't make sense to him.

"I just didn't have the time to do it anymore," you shrugged, "I still have some new entries, if you want to read them. I stopped last year, so there's still two years worth of stuff inside. It's in the pile of stuff that I brought here. See?" You rummaged through the satchel that you had lugged up to his room, fetching the journal out of the bag.

Silas took it from you and flipped through it. The first thing he noticed was that your handwriting had gotten a lot neater, and that you wrote less and less.

"There's barely anything here." Silas said at last.

"Well, nothing really happened in my life without you. It was boring," you murmured tonelessly. "I'm glad I'm here now. Maybe I'll resume journaling, if I have the time."

The other thing Silas had noticed was the lack of exclamation marks. Which was a pity, for he had liked your habit of putting two exclamation marks whenever you were especially joyful. You had just stated that your life in those three years had been boring, but from the looks of it, it had also been horrid and dismal. Well, the good thing was that his letter in your journal still remained, and a bookmark was neatly slotted between the pages that contained it. It was clear you cherished it.

But there was another aspect to it that Silas couldn't help but be nitpicky about.

"...It seems like my name appears less and less," Silas muttered under his breath as he flipped through the pages of your journal. In the earlier entries, Silas's name had been written everywhere. But later, it had winded down.

Silas didn't quite like that.

"I mean, that's expected, isn't it?" Your sharp ears had heard his comment. "I didn't spend time with you for three years. But..." you glanced at him. "I was always thinking of you, Silas. Always."

Silas's breath hitched. "You were?"

"Yeah, I'm not lying." You grinned at him. "Like — I would be eating a fruit, and I would go: I wonder what Silas's reaction would be if he tried this new fruit? Would it be sour to him? Or I would be lounging around in my backyard and I would think: if Silas was here, would he think that the cloud over there was funnily shaped? You were everywhere I went. I looked for parts of you in everything, and eventually, I didn't even need to look for you in things. I simply saw you in them."

"...Me too," Silas admitted. He reached for your hand and squeezed it tight, his fingers interlacing with yours. It was one of the few times he initiated touch. "I felt the same. It was the only way I could keep myself sane."

"Only way you could keep yourself sane?" You teased him. "Hah, that sounds like I'm really important to you. What a strong choice of words."

"You are, Y/n. You are the most important person in my life. You're really precious to me," Silas said honestly.

Your cheeks glowed and your eyes were twinkling. You reddened at his excessive praise. "I really like you too, Silas. No — I love you," you told him. "I love you a lot."

Your mother had told you before that I love you didn't need to be used just between family. It could simply be said to someone whom you cherished and adored. Someone who you liked more than anyone else in the world. And Silas was that person for you.

"I love you too," Silas mumbled. No one had ever said those words to him. In fact, he didn't quite know the meaning of them, but it was fine. Just like how you had taught him the meaning of those flowers and how to cut those rabbit shaped apple slices, you would teach him this too.

Silas was holding your hand, and he found that it was always warm and comforting. His free hand traced the part of his stomach that had been stabbed earlier. It had stung, but for that glorious second, your eyes had moved from the gardener's to his. In that moment, Silas was able to see that you prioritized him. That you were infinitely loyal to him. That now you would serve him well, and always remain by his side.

It was nice, being someone's first choice.

"Well, I'm glad you're my master. This way, it won't be loyalty borne out of necessity, but loyalty borne out of willingness." You spoke up. "Hey, Silas, maybe next time we should doodle little drawings of each other and paste them on the walls of your room. Then it'll be filled up, and your room won't look so empty."

Silas wrinkled his nose. "That means I'll have those childish drawings on the walls of my room even when I'm an adult."

"Childish?" You narrowed your eyes and looked at him indignantly. "You're ten. What do you mean childish? You are a child. And besides, you'll probably move into another room when you're an adult and when you're going to become the next Emperor. So this doesn't matter especially when you're a child now."

"And you aren't a child?" Silas retorted.

"I'll have you know that next year, I'll be a teenager!"

Silas fell silent. "By next year, I would have known you for five years."

"Well, not really. I mean, we didn't see each other for three years, right?"

"But we thought about each other," Silas corrected.

"That's why having these drawings are important! This way, when you're a teenager and in a particularly spiteful mood, you'll see the pictures and calm down. And maybe you'll mature and stop getting into trouble like you are now," you added as an afterthought.

"But you'll heal me."

"Hey, who do you think I am?"

Silas tilted his head. "My butler."

You scowled. "Wrong. I'm your friend." Well, Silas was right. You were his butler.

"Can't you be both?"

"No, don't be greedy, Silas," you placed your hands on your hips. "Let me teach you an important life lesson. You can't be greedy in life. You have to make wise choices and—"

Silas reached over and pinched your nose. You rubbed it. "Ow. What was that for?"

"You're twelve. Don't try and go spouting philosophical bullshit. I don't give a fuck about those."

"Silas!" Your jaw dropped before you quickly hushed him, "hey, language. Are you trying to get me fired?"

"No," Silas said innocently. "I'm not."

"Who even taught you those words?" You said, aghast, "you know, one of my jobs as Butler is replacing the servants who cuss so openly in front of the prince."

"Right before their deaths, people tend to swear," Silas offered cheerfully. "That's how I learn."

"Very funny. What storybook did you pull that from?"

"Can't remember," Silas lied. "Anyway, it's the afternoon now. The maids are supposed to be serving us tea. Are they late?"

Tea.. didn't one of your duties involve serving the afternoon tea to the prince?

"Oh shoot," you panicked, "wait, I'm the one who's supposed to be serving you tea. Daddy is totally going to kill me! I'll be right back!"

Before Silas could say anything, you zoomed out of his room and started to run as fast as you could towards the kitchen. Then you remembered your manners, and decided to walk very briskly. You gave a sigh of relief as you caught the sight of the head chef placing the last of desserts onto a cart with goodies laden on it. Thankfully, you knew all of the main, irreplaceable staff by name — as well as their personalities. This was the Head Chef, Kate, who was known to be sweet and kind. She was plump, with her apron loose around her waist.

"Ah, young Y/n," she beamed at you. You wondered if all of the main staff had also been told to learn your face and name, for she instantly recognised you despite the two of you being strangers. "A little late, aren't you? But just in time — the pie has just been finished."

"Pie?" You said excitedly.

"Blueberry. With whipped cream," she winked. "I know His Highness likes it."

You remembered introducing that particular dessert to him three years ago. Hadn't Silas mentioned to you before that the people in the palace detested him and refused to give him food? You supposed that after Silas had grown older, he had somehow earned himself grudging respect. And that, in turn, had led people within the palace to treat Silas the way his title demanded him to be treated.

"Oh yeah, he does." You nodded your head.

"People always say His Highness is scary, but really..." Kate cupped her cheek with her hand, giving a sigh. "He has child-like tastebuds. He has a sweet tooth, I can tell. He is a child, but people in the palace don't look too kindly on him. Only after that incident did people start treating him well."

You were confused. Silas said he never made any trouble. "What incident?"

Kate looked at your face. "You're young, aren't you? You'll learn when you get older. It's not anything a small child like you should learn."

Now you grew even more curious. But before you could press further, another cook came and slapped Kate on the arm. "What are you gossiping about with the young butler? Hey, that mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day."

Kate had the decency to look sheepish. She took two forks and passed them to you. "Forget what I said. You eat too, okay? I made a lot."

You were practically salivating. "Okay!"

Your father mentioned before that you were not supposed to eat with the prince, because of the hierarchical differences. But he wasn't here, was he? So you didn't care.

You pushed the cart along the hallway, pondering over what Kate said. Silas had claimed he hadn't caused any trouble, but here the head chef was, saying that some incident involving him had happened that had allowed Silas to reclaim the treatment he deserved.

And well, Silas had lied to you before. But it had been a white lie! But still, you didn't want Silas to lie to you...

Hm. Maybe the incident didn't necessarily mean trouble. The incident must have been good for Silas to earn respect from others, right? Maybe you were thinking too negatively. After all, Silas wasn't that kind of person.

Unbeknownst to you, you were viewing Silas with rose-tinted glasses.

"Ah, Y/n." A voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, turning around. You were expecting to see another maid or servant, but —

— "Your Majesty!" You bowed profusely towards the Emperor, "my greetings to the Sun of the Empire."

The Emperor waved his hand so as to allow you to rise. You did so, looking at the Emperor with uncertainty. You had never spoken personally to him before, but his presence sent unpleasant jolts down your spine. Both Silas and your father had always spoken poorly of him, and the Emperor was also a constant topic in arguments between your parents. Simply put, there was nothing good that could come out from talking with him.

The Emperor chuckled. "You don't have to be so much on the edge."

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty..."

The Emperor seemed to be studying your features. "As expected, you don't look like your father."

"Oh," you scratched the back of your neck, one hand still on the cart. "Yes, Your Majesty. People tend to tell me that I resemble my mother."

"...Yes. I see that too." The Emperor gave you an empty smile. "But you act just like your father. Or at least, you act just like your father when he was young."

You act just like your father. Had the Emperor been observing you?

You didn't reply, and the Emperor moved on. "Seems like the head chef gave you two forks."

"Oh, I can return one of them," you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth inelegantly, "I—"

"Eat with Silas. It's a foolish rule, anyway." The Emperor dismissed your words with a careless wave. Then he smiled again, this time more wistfully. "Your father and I used to do the same."

Your heart beat fast against your chest. "You two did?"

"Yes."

"Oh. You two were friends, then. That's nice, Your Majesty." You said after a pause. The air between you two was stifling — you felt suffocated beyond belief.

"Hah," The Emperor started to laugh softly, "as expected — Ralph talks poorly of me, doesn't he? To the extent his child thinks we're no longer friends. Stay naive, Y/n. You might end up like the two of us."

You were starting to feel pissed. You felt brave, all of a sudden, and you spoke before your brain fully registered it.

"We won't."

Your father and the Emperor always looked so oddly miserable and yet content with each other. You and Silas would never turn out like that.

"Huh," The Emperor said slowly, "you certainly have Ralph's ability to talk back. And Silas...where do I even start with that problem child? He's simply evil, Y/n. And he's born wrong. If I loved my wife, I would have tried for another child. But I don't, and so Silas is my only child. My only heir. But in other circumstances, he would have been discarded."

What a horrible father. No wonder Silas had been so lonely and had even killed when you first met him.

"Well, I don't want to waste your time." The Emperor said tonelessly. "Have fun at your little tea party."

He sauntered away, leaving you glaring daggers behind his back. Gah. What an unpleasant man he was. Silas? Evil? What — bullshit. There. Such an ugly word suited the Emperor's heart.

You gave a sigh and continued to wheel the cart to Silas's room.

—

"I liked the ones that your mother made more," Silas said after he bit into the blueberry pie. "This is pretty nice, but I remember the ones you brought being exceptional."

"Really?" You continued to munch onto the pie. "Tastes about the same. In fact, this one tastes more expensive."

Silas did agree that this pie seemed to be made up of higher quality ingredients, but he sorely missed the distinct sweetness and tartness that had lingered on his taste buds after he had eaten your mother's pie. "Yeah. Do you know your mother's recipe?"

You thought for a while. "I think so. We haven't made it in a long time. Haven't spoken properly to her in a while, actually."

You and Silas were now lounging on the floor, trying the different desserts. Occasionally, your mind wandered to the conversation you had shared with the Emperor. You decided to tell Silas about it. It involved him, after all.

"I talked with your father." You brought the topic up casually.

You didn't notice Silas stiffen.

"You did?" The prince's words were light and airy, like he was on alert. He stabbed a piece of cake with his fork, but with more force than necessary.

"Yeah," you shoveled another spoonful of meringue tarts into your mouth and chewed on it. You waited a little while before you swallowed. "He's not like you at all. He's nowhere near you in terms of positive traits. He's...odd." You had a funny expression on your face. "Maybe it's just grown up things. Don't turn out like him, please."

"What did he say exactly?"

You hesitated. "You don't need to worry about that. He's a big fat liar."

"Just tell me, Y/n," Silas tilted his head at you, lips tugging up into an innocent smile. "Please? My feelings won't get hurt. I don't get offended easily."

Gah, you really couldn't resist. "It wasn't pretty. He said that you're evil, he said that you're a problem child...all lies, if you ask me."

Well, that was the usual things people tended to say. What Silas really cared about was your reception to his father's words. "And what do you think?"

"About what His Majesty said?"

"Yes."

"I told you already. I think he's spouting lies," you stated your opinion plainly like it was a fact. "So don't worry about it, Silas."

Silas liked your answer, but he wanted a confirmation. He wanted something that would effectively cement this fact — the fact that you believed he was good. That he wasn't evil. Because deep down, Silas knew some part of him was twisted and warped beyond belief, and that his father's words were true. Silas knew that even if he stopped killing now, his hands would still be matted with blood and lives.

And so Silas gave you one of those dazzling, charming smiles that he so rarely used. You were the only person that he showed it to. "In the future," Silas said slowly, " if someone talks about me in the same way that my father did, would you believe them?"

"No," you said fervently, clasping his hands. "I won't, Silas. Trust me. I will always believe you — promise." You looped his pinky finger.

Silas's smile grew wider as he practically beamed at you. You blinked, but was pleasantly surprised at how delighted he seemed. Perhaps poor Silas simply needed someone to believe in him this whole time.

And you would be that person for him.

"I take your word for it, Y/n." Silas told you, eyes glittering. "I trust that you'll honor that promise."

"I will!" You exclaimed, grinning. "Who do you take me for?"

You did not see the amount of trouble that this particular promise would bring you.

—

late update because there's a lizard in my room and I'm currently lowkey sick

but anyways I have mixed feelings about this chapter hahahahhaha idk bear w me guys... bear w me i promise things r gonna be interesting

hope everyone enjoyed! remember to add into your library!

how was it?