Chapter One-Party

Banners and festoons traversed the ornate walls of the Royal Palace in London, to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of the king's only child. The grand square was littered with admirers, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person in the carriage, which would soon be rounding the corner. Everybody was itching to see Prince Edward, the next in line to the throne of Britain, and by far the most attractive man on the island, according to the London Times, at least. After a few minutes of agonising anticipation, horses' hooves could be heard coming from the archway-gate, then the sound of wooden wheels speeding over the finely scrubbed cobbles. In a moment, the carriage was within their eye line and then it was gone, vanishing behind the walls of the palace's gardens. Still, the entire crowd was screaming with excitement, overjoyed that they saw Prince Edward himself. He was even more lovely than they'd heard, in his elegant attire and paper-white periwig.
But to the crowd, he was solely a prince, with no true existence or tale. He was made to please the populace, and when he wasn't in their presence, he didn't exist. That really wasn't the case; he is a human like us all, and thus has his own intricate story, and so does his servant, Jacob, who now stands at the main entrance of the palace, awaiting his master.
Edward alighted the carriage and breathed in the air of London, as if he'd not inhaled its perfume-purged winds in an age. He sauntered over to Jacob, who was dressed in formal clothing out of respect; as was the reason for the trumpets' bellowing over the crowd's. "Good day, your highness, a very happy birthday. I pray your sojourn to the Chatsworth House was pleasurable," Said Jacob, entering the palace with the aristocrat. The fine, crimson carpet beneath their feet and the brilliant portraits on the corridor's walls were no real change to Edward's visit to the northern manor. "How I've missed you, Jacob," He replied quietly, seeming to ignore the slave's comments. Jacob tried to stifle his smile, "Thank you, m'lord. I have felt an ache at your absence, also."
Edward winked at his companion, causing Jacob's cheeks to blush, clashing with his tanned tone. However, there was no secret reason to Edward's wink; he and Jacob had engaged in no acts of lechery at all, for such an occasion was the darkest sin!
"Will you be attending the revelry tonight?" Enquired Edward, feeling a rose blossom in his heart for the thought of Jacob's presence at the party of his eighteenth June.
"I shall, but not as a reveler , as a servant, as my job's name implies," Jacob's wit didn't hurt Edward; the fact that he would be there banished any thought of his bosom's flower to wither.

"Very good," Edward said coolly, and bid his farewell to the slave; their ways must part now: Edward will head to his father, and Jacob, to the servants' quarters. Yet before they drifted away, the prince did his usual light tap on Jacob's behind, looking around for prying eyes firstly; the latter found it adorable, and thanked him for it. Edward grinned rakishly, and adjusted the contents of his crotch with perfect subterfuge.

:::::::

The party was in full swing; all the rich aristocrats of London were there, wishing Prince Edward many more years to come. The orchestra which was hired played a lively Mozart Piano Concerto, the third movement of his seventeenth, and this paved the way to a gallant dance between the people. Edward weaved himself through the crowd, preferring to dance with the men, but maintaining a flow which made his actions undetectable to the average observer.
Jacob watched from the wall, a silver platter held in his left hand as an offer of the rich wines imported from the fields of Spain. He was bored out of his mind; the hall was crammed with pretentious piles of posh. People never thanked him for the beverages which he offered, nor did they desire to cease in scowling at his evidently foreign roots. As his eyes stayed in their usual tired expression, he saw a women watching him from the far wall. She had lengthy hair, the colour of the sun, and a beautiful face. When he blinked as a way of studying her more thoroughly, she was gone. He blamed it on how sleepy he was, or maybe it was somebody who could move very quickly. Either way, the woman was pushed from his mind when he was ordered to get more wine.
Eventually, the party was over. Edward had a fantastic time, and received many arse strokes from mischievous men. Yes, the fun was now over, and he was to head to bed, for a peaceful slumber after a day of doing no work. Jacob, a few minutes before the party was terminated, was asked to clean a corridor after most of the portraits were made crooked by some very drunk drones. Straightening the paintings of pretty monarchs, he was alarmed to hear footsteps behind him. Before he could turn, two hands covered his eyes. "Guess who."
Jacob recognised the voice instantly, and he was lifted from his monotonous chore. "Hello, Edward. Sorry, I mean, your highness," His sight was given back to him, and he cursed himself at his lack of tact. He thanked God that no one else was on the corridor to whip him for addressing on first name basis to a higher.
"Fear not; call me Edward when we're alone. I prefer it," His tone was still melodic, even though he was slightly intoxicated.
"I shall, but are you sure you won't mind?"
"Very sure," He smiled.
"How was your party? I saw you were having many spits of laughter with some men at the billiard table. I would have came over with the wine, but-" Jacob was cut short by Edward's pale finger touching his lips. The tip of his finger was cold, and his lips were warm, a perfect contrast.
"Night," Edward said, walking away, his gait one of masculinity. But Jacob was completely enamoured; his lips tingled, and his throat was endowed with a large lump. He felt happy.