A/N: Ahhh I love writing this! So I'm back with another chapter! Just letting all of you guys know, the names of the towns and kingdoms are completely made up, and I truly have no idea where they came from. So now, with that said, I hope you enjoy!

Narrator

The prince rarely thought in third person, but because he would forever look back at that night as the night he fell in love with the baker's son, he refused to call himself anything but the prince. He wondered how self-centered that was of him, but continued to think it regardless. It's not like anyone would be looking into his thoughts.

He also pondered on what the baker's son would think of his glasses. As member of the royal family, he had access to a variety of custom glasses. Before leaving the castle earlier that day, he carefully set his glasses into their silk-lined case and tucked them away in one of his bedside tables. And he had never, ever worn his glasses in public, so Dan had absolutely no way of knowing the perfect prince had horrible eyesight.

Usually he just went through his day half-blind, and didn't let the fuzziness affect him.

Lying awake on Dan's chair swathed in soft pelts and propped up with a few handmade feather pillows before the sun had even risen, Phil couldn't help but wonder what he didn't know about Dan yet. Dan certainly didn't know much of anything about him. Phil glanced at him as he slumbered peacefully, and went over everything he knew about the sleeping boy.

He knew Dan could probably bake, and he had a fondness for black. He knew he had warm brown eyes and soft (or at least soft-looking) hair. He knew he had adorable dimples a mile deep when he smiled one of his rare, gorgeous smiles. He knew Dan was ever so slightly embarrassed by his jovial father, and something had happened to his mother when he was young. He was casual about the fact that Phil was the son of the most powerful couple in the entire kingdom, and didn't look at him with emotions like awe or wonderment. And he seemed to care enough about Phil to want him to stay out of the semi-dangerous woods at night.

Phil, of course, wanted to know everything he could about him, but, growing up a prince with just tutors and maids to keep him company, he had no idea how to simply be someone's friend. He figured he had been rather forward the day before by declaring that he was to be Dan's friend, but wasn't sure how to go about it any other way. Not to mention he didn't want to be just friends.

Phil knew his father would be furious for escaping away the day before, but only if he found out. It's not like the king paid particularly close attention to his youngest son anyway. Phil estimated he had until around midday before anyone would get suspicious. Members of his personal staff were used to his unplanned escapades, so there wasn't a problem there. The only one he was unsure of was Melody.

Melody had seemed amazed and maybe even humbled to actually talk to the prince, but her infatuation with Dan was evident. She had given Phil a slightly uneasy feeling with all that staring when he left the kitchen the morning before, and he truly wasn't sure what a lovesick teenage girl would do upon finding out someone else had stayed the night with the boy of her desires.

Phil blinked and shook himself out of his thoughtful daze when he thought this, realizing it was kind of an odd thought.

Phil knew the sun would most likely awaken the young baker, so he took one long look at Dan before leaning back and closing his eyes. Dan being awake would probably bring breakfast, so at least Phil now had something to look forward to. He had slept fitfully all night, waking up once every thirty minutes, and the idea of attempting to sleep once again was not particularly appealing. He adjusted his head on the chair. Then, with what he thought was going to be a quick power nap, he fell into a better sleep than anything that had occurred during the night.

Dan awoke a few hours after Phil fell back asleep. Dan sat awake in his bed for approximately four minutes before his father poked his head in to check that Dan and the boy from a supposedly "well off" family were still alive. Content with their status of living, Mr. Howell gave a brief nod and a small smile before ducking out again. As a baker, he had plenty to do in the mornings, and since they lived in the woods, he had quite a commute. That morning, however, he left actually later than usual. Dan silently questioned why.

Finally deciding to start his day, Dan swung his legs over the side of the bed and hopped up. Despite his love for sleep and hatred for getting up, he forced the grogginess away and yanked up the blankets of his bed with a strong sense of purpose. He had things to do.

Dan's POV

The prince looked so very real while he slept. His striking features were stripped of his permanent pleasant expression and made him look less like some sort of painfully beautiful creature created by the gods, put solely on this earth to cause me immense confusion and longing, and instead more like a human. Not that I minded his godlike looks. If anything, the contented naturalness of him made him all the more gorgeous in my eyes.

Rolling my eyes at my own thoughts, I crept through the room, careful not to wake Phil. Why would I ever want to disturb such a beautiful boy? I softly shut the door behind me upon exiting my bedroom, and meandered into the kitchen.

I began to look in cupboards for something to eat. I typically loved having my room next to the kitchen, but now, if I tried to make breakfast I would disturb Phil. Imagine that: waking the prince up from his precious beauty rest.

I snorted as I pulled open different cabinets. In reality, I doubted the prince would care much if I woke him up. He seemed to really like food, and he was such a pleasant boy. Not boy, I corrected myself. Man. Anyway, Phil was probably too courteous to comment on getting awoken. I glanced around the kitchen, and my eyes fell on a scrap of paper on the table. Even from the small distance, I could see my father's crooked scrawl similar to my own scribbled across the note.

I shuffled over and picked up the short note.

Daniel. Didn't wake up on time so won't be home 'til late. Might stay the night at the bakery for prep. No need to come in today; there is extra staff. Get that nice friend of yours home safely.

I squinted at the paper, wondering what my father had against using words like "I". I tossed the note back down on the table and looked around the kitchen again. Many cabinet doors swung freely, forgotten in my hurry to find something to eat. The fireplace was filled with ashes and quieted embers. I could hear Phil's soft snoring through my slightly ajar bedroom door. I remembered shutting it; the lock had probably loosened again.

I considered shutting the door again, but decided against it when I realized the sounds of another human, no matter how quiet, were actually quite soothing. How I survived the first seventeen years of my life alone in the house while my parents were at the bakery, I'll never know.

After standing in the middle of the kitchen, pondering on breakfast options, for five minutes, I decided to just grab some leftovers from the market the day before and hope Phil didn't mind when he woke up. I finally made my way to the cabinet housing the baked goods, closing the cupboard doors on my way.

I pulled out bread and muffins and pastries, among other carbohydrates, and arranged them in what I thought was an appealing way on the table. I crumpled up the paper from my father, slightly irritated he didn't stay. I felt guilty as soon as I thought it. After all, I was used to him leaving for the bakery bright and early nearly every day for the majority of my life. Still, a twinge of annoyance shot through me as I adjusted a loaf of bread. He could have at least stayed to say goodbye to Phil.

My bitter thoughts were interrupted by a sneeze. I jumped and whipped around, terrified of whoever was in my house, before dumbly realizing it had been Phil. I padded over to my bedroom and opened the door a crack more. Phil was still sleeping contentedly on the chair, wrapped up and cozy.

Somehow the sight of him like that made me blush profusely, and I looked away. My eyes fell on my newly made bed. It was probably still warm…

My feet somehow dragged me through the room and back under the blankets. My typical sleep schedule the night before had been interrupted by the whole Phil situation, so I rationalized the quick nap and closed my eyes. Within minutes, I was asleep, my mind full of the boy who rested on the chair not even four feet away.

Phil's POV

For the second time in two days, the first thing on my mind was food. I stretched from my position on the chair; my legs were starting to cramp up. I glanced over to the bed, where Dan lay curled underneath crumpled blankets.

I stood and stretched more, wondering how long it would take for my father to send out soldiers to search for me. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened, after all.

I attempted to fold the blankets up, failing horribly, then walked softly to the kitchen. I was careful not to wake Dan up, and pushed open the bedroom door quietly. I smile upon arriving into the kitchen.

Set neatly on the table were a variety of breads and bakery delicacies, and my stomach rumbles approvingly. I padded over to the table and picked up a muffin. I had had a similar one the day before, and it tasted just as good. I smiled as I chewed, relishing the baked good, but I noticed bright lights making their way into the kitchen through a window.

I made my way over to the window and stared out it, muffin still in hand. The sun was a lot higher than I thought it would be. I didn't see any clocks, but had a feeling it would soon be actually lunchtime in the castle. Anxiety rises in my gut.

I shoved the rest of the muffin in my mouth and began to scramble about, gathering my shoes while simultaneously searching for paper to write Dan a not with. I slept in my own clothing, so all I had to worry about were wrinkles, but I still felt horrifically frazzled.

I finally found a wrinkled piece of paper with writing on one side, and then began a hunt for a writing utensil. Once I found a pen of some sort, I quickly wrote Dan a note.

Dan, thank you so much for everything! I best be getting back to the castle, though. See you sometime?

I smoothed out the paper and left it next to the breads. On a second thought, I grabbed a hunk of bread for my trek through the forest.

I hurried through the house and pushed out the front door. The sun was blinding as it made its way through the trees and into the clearing. I began to jog down the path, already regretting my choice to leave. There was something about Dan. I didn't know what it was or why he had this effect on me, but I longed to be back inside the cottage with him, laughing and talking again.

However, I was terrified of what my father might do if he found out a measly baker had housed his son for a night, so I carried on through the woods. I didn't remember much about getting through the forest, but it couldn't be that hard.

Right?

Later on, that night…

Dan's POV

I was eating a solitary meal of leftover soup and bread at the table when a persistent knocking began at the door of the cottage. I jumped up, hoping it was Phil. I had been incredibly disappointed when I woke up to his absence and his note earlier that morning, and he hadn't returned all day.

The knocking continued. I hurried to the door and pulled it open, a smile already on my face. It faded immediately when I found myself face to face with half a dozen grim-faced royal soldiers. I could feel the color draining from my face.

"Can, um, can I help you?" I croaked, fear making its way into my voice. What happened? Had something happened to Phil? I then noticed my father standing towards the back of the men, hands clasped behind him with soldiers tightly holding his arms on either side.

"Where is the prince?" the solider in charge demanded, angry and cold. "Where is he?"

A/N: Dun dun dun! Philip never made it back to the castle… I do wonder what has happened to him…