Chapter Text
Tommy wasn't lying when he said that palace life wasn't as good as it might have seemed. When he was younger, he'd told friends about the treatment he faced behind the closed palace gates and the royal doors. He'd described the cruel servants who insulted and degraded him, his family who stayed willingly ignorant to the abuse that Tommy experienced. Those friends had then pushed him away, perhaps because they thought he was just a prince playing tricks on him, or perhaps because they were frightened of being friends with someone who openly insulted the royal family.
He hadn't been trying to insult them, really. He had just wanted someone to know that he was struggling. It seemed like no one cared.
It was one ordinary morning after a particularly bad day when everything changed. The day before had bought a new tutor. Tommy - poor, naive Tommy - had been hoping that this new tutor would be nice, patient, and understanding that Tommy wasn't the smartest but he was trying really really hard in lessons.
He'd been wrong.
His new tutor was mean, possibly even the meanest tutor he'd ever had. She'd demand answers of him, never accepting an "I don't know", instead yelling over and over again for him to answer the question, even though it was complicated and he couldn't get his head around algebra or calculus or whatever subject it was.The lesson had ended with Tommy confined to his bedroom, sobbing his eyes out.
His bedroom, or bedchamber as some of the more higher status servants liked to call it, was sparsely decorated, with a few furnishings like a bed, a wardrobe, a chair and a desk that he rarely used. There used to be a bookshelf, filled with fantastical books with dragons and magic and protagonists who got a happy ending. He'd grown up though, and the fairy tales had been taken away, probably to use for kindling for a fire. His bookshelf had sat there for a few more years, gathering dust, until it had also been thrown away.
The fires of the castle had burned particularly bright that night, and the cold didn't seep into the walls like it usually did. Tommy, with his bedroom that didn't even have a fireplace, was unable to appreciate the warmth that his bookshelf had provided to the hearths. He'd been lying there, shaking underneath a blanket that was a flimsy protector against the winter temperatures.
There was distant screaming in the palace. Tommy woke up, startled awake, and rolled off the bed with a thump. He had been warned (or rather, told threatening stories) of something like this happening - told of his family's enemies, of people who would kill Tommy on sight for being a member of the royal family, even though he was just an honorary member at best, not one who was even necessary when his mother and father already had enough heirs to the throne.
Tommy had been told enough threatening stories that he'd made himself a plan of what to do if the occasion ever actually arose. The plan was to hide in the wardrobe, so he did.
He scrambled towards it, opened its door as quietly as it could because it had been creaking ever since he was a little kid. And he sat. And he waited.
At points he could barely even hear screams and there was just silence. Silence that wrapped itself around Tommy and gave him a sense of security, though he didn't trust it. He could just tell that it wasn't over yet. He wasn't safe.
It was in one of these long moments of silence that Tommy felt exhaustion begin to permeate into his very soul. He'd woken in the dead of night and he could only guess what time it was now, sitting in the darkness in that wooden wardrobe that boxed him in. A shelter, a prison - he wasn't too sure. Maybe running had been a safer bet, maybe he could have made his way out of the palace by now. Maybe running would have gotten him killed. He didn't know.
Eventually, sleep grasped him and he fell into dreams of hiding from monsters with big teeth and demonic eyes.
Thud.
Tommy woke up for the second time to a sound that filled him with terror.
Someone was in the room. He looked out of the crack in the door to see a tall man wearing a guard's uniform. A blue guard's uniform. This was a member of the Antarctic Empire - one of his family's most dangerous enemies, whose army could crush their snowy kingdom with ease.
Tommy covered his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle the sound of his panicked breaths. If he was seen, he was dead. There was no doubt about it. This could be his very last day and he hadn't even accomplished anything in his life.
The man rattled through the drawers of Tommy's desk, rifling through the scribbles of his lessons with his tutors. Tommy had no idea what he was looking for. He doubted that the guard was particularly interested in his calculus lessons though.
Then the man ruffled through Tommy's bed. He bought the singular blanket to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling heavily as though he was smelling it. What for, Tommy had no idea. He continued peering through the crack, watching the stranger intently.
The man froze. His eyes re-opened, red irises blinking in the daylight - and they met Tommy's.
Tommy scrambled backwards, trying to submerge himself within the pile of threadbare clothes, praying to Prime herself that he'd be perceived as a coat or something, just so he could stay alive. In a moment of pure delirium, filled with fright, he figured that he'd make a good coat. He was good at clinging onto things - he'd grown up being pushed by his brothers and sometimes he was just a bit too close to a window so he'd fallen out of a good few - and he was great at conserving heat after all the years of living in the sad, cold kingdom that he called his home.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of the man's heavy footsteps approached him and Tommy had no defence when the doors of the wardrobe were thrown open. He kept his head down, trying not to shake like a leaf in the wind, despite the fear and the chill that ran through his blood.
There was nothing for a moment. No movement, no noises, just the man standing in front of him. In fact, there was silence for so long that Tommy thought that the man had left and he just hadn't noticed. He hoped with all of his might that the stillness in the air would remain - that the man was gone.
Then Tommy sneezed.
It was just a quiet sound, but of course, with Tommy's luck, it was enough to prove that somebody was there in that sad little wardrobe. The guard rustled through the pile and Tommy, though he hid to the best of the ability, was discovered.