Chapter 38: Twelve Years Ago [III]

They walked side by side through the winding, trash-strewn paths leading away from the alley. The contrast between them was almost absurd. Basil walked with straight shoulders and effortless confidence, his expensive clothes untouched by the grime coating the neighborhood. Beside him, Darius looked like a stray dog someone had dragged out of a storm. His shirt was torn near the collar, dust clung to his knees, and one side of his face was already beginning to swell from the slap. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing sideways glances at Basil, fascinated by how the boy had effortlessly dismantled four older bullies without getting a single scratch on his pristine clothing.

A small knot of envy twisted in Darius’s chest. He wished with every fiber of his being that he could fight like that. If only he possessed that kind of strength, nobody would be able to steal his food or take his money. Nobody would shove him around whenever they felt like it.

"Why do you let them bully you?" Basil finally asked as they drew closer to the main road "There were four of them, sure, but you just stood there and let them take what was yours without putting up a fight."

Darius stopped walking, forcing Basil to stop as well. He didn’t know how to answer that.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t know what to say. In fact, he had plenty of answers. But every single one of them sounded like a pathetic excuse the moment he thought about saying it out loud.

Basil stared at him for a moment before speaking with cold, matter-of-fact certainty. "You do know that if you don’t start fighting back, they’ll never stop, right? People like that are always looking for easy targets. And it’s never a guarantee that someone will always be there to save you. That’s why you need to learn how to fight back and stop making it easy for them."

"You’re only saying that because you’re privileged enough to be born into a rich family and have parents who can afford to train you," Darius grumbled, fidgeting nervously as he stared at the ground. His fingers twisted together in front of him. "Not everyone has that."

Basil was quiet for a moment before speaking.

"If you had enough money to learn how to fight, would you promise me you’d never let anyone bully you like that again?" he asked, his tone completely serious.

Darius’s head snapped up in shock, his lips parting. "W-what are you saying?" he whispered.

"What I’m saying is that I’m willing to give you the money," Basil said, his voice earnest. "Enough money to register for whatever fighting classes you want. Are you going to accept it? Now you have the opportunity to train, learn how to fight, and stop your bullies. Will you take it?"

Darius stared at him, his mouth slightly right.

"Why... why would you do something like that for me?"

"Because I want you to come and protect me," Basil replied without hesitation. He stepped closer, looking straight into Darius’s eyes. "When you’re strong enough, I want you to come to the palace and protect me."

Darius blinked, stunned. "The... the palace?"

Basil nodded, standing a little straighter. "I’m Prince Basil, the Crown Prince of this kingdom."

Darius gasped, his eyes widening in sheer panic. He immediately stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet as he began to bend his knees. "Y-Your Majesty! I mean, Your Highness—"

Basil immediately reached out and grabbed his shoulder before he could bow. "No, don’t do that. I don’t need all that. Just keep calling me Basil. Besides, we’re friends now, right?"

Friends?

Darius had never had anything like that before. In the orphanage, everyone was too busy competing for the attention of potential adopters and fighting over whatever little they had. He had never really had a friend before, and now the Crown Prince was telling him they were already friends. How was that even possible?

Basil let go of his shoulder and offered him a gentle, hopeful smile. "So, Darius, will you promise me? That you’ll train very hard, learn how to fight, become strong enough, and come back to protect me in the palace?"

Darius felt his chest tighten. "Yes..." he blurted out. "I’ll do it." His voice grew firmer. "I’ll do anything for you, Your Highness."

Basil laughed, shaking his head. "Isn’t that too extreme? But alright." He glanced toward the main road. "Let’s just get back first."

They continued walking side by side. As the familiar orphanage building finally came into view, Darius spotted the charity workers Basil had arrived with earlier. They were still gathered in the courtyard, handing out supplies and speaking with the children.

Basil slowed his steps.

"Wait here. I’ll be right back." Before Darius could say another word, Basil turned and hurried toward the orphanage grounds, weaving through the crowd and disappearing into the middle of the charity workers.

Left standing alone, Darius fidgeted with his hands, his head spinning.

Is this some kind of prank on me?

He glanced toward the orphanage entrance, uncertainty gnawing at his stomach.

Should he just go inside?

Maybe he’d misunderstood everything.

Maybe the prince had only been joking. Just as he finally made up his mind to head inside, he heard quick footsteps racing toward him.

Darius looked up. Basil was running back toward him, slightly out of breath. The prince stopped in front of him and thrust out a hand.

A thick stack of crisp, neatly wrapped bills rested in his palm. "Here," Basil panted. "This should be enough, right?"

Darius shrank back slightly, terrified to even touch that much money. He stared at the stack, then up at Basil in total shock, his mind refusing to process what was happening.

"Go on, take it," Basil urged, taking Darius’s trembling hand and placing the stack firmly into his palm. "Just keep your promise, okay? Come to the palace and protect me."

Darius closed his fingers around the small fortune, clutching it tightly against his chest.

"Y-Yes, Your Highness," he whispered, his voice shaking.

"I’ll be waiting for you, Darius," Basil said with a bright nod. He turned and began walking back toward the charity workers, but after a few steps, he paused. Turning around, his eyes locked onto Darius with a warm spark. "Oh, and one more thing... happy birthday, Darius."

Darius froze, his heart skipping a beat.

"H-How do you know today’s my birthday?"

"I overheard one of the orphanage staff talking about it," Basil said with a soft laugh. "Today is my birthday too." His smile brightened.

"Really?"

"Yes. That’s why I came here today, to celebrate with the other kids. So, happy birthday, Darius."

A genuine smile broke through the grime and bruises on Darius’s face.

"Happy birthday to you too, Your Highness."

Basil’s eyes softened.

"You look handsome when you smile. So keep smiling, Darius. And never, ever give up, okay?"

Darius clutched the money tightly against his chest. "Okay."

Basil nodded once. With a final wave, he turned and started walking away. "And don’t keep me waiting too long," he called over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd of charity workers. Darius stood there for a long moment, holding the money tightly against his chest.

"I’ll definitely keep my promise," he vowed silently. "No matter what it takes."