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The Royal Prisoner
Chapter 5
A servant entered the bedroom that was plunged into darkness. She opened the curtain one by one. Slowly Victor was emerging from his dreams.
"Good morning your highness!" said the servant.
"Hmm ..." moaned the prince while stretching. He was not sure why he was being waked up every day at nine by servants. There was really nothing to wake up for. The fight in the study was the last time Hadrien and him really spoke to one another. After that he was given his own apartments in the west wing of the palace, remote from the rest of the palace. When, occasionally, they bumped into each other, they greeted politely and that was about it. Victor felt a twitch in his heart every single time, but there was not much he could do. At several occasion he wanted to storm in the general's bedroom or study and beg him to be his boy again. He did not though. Only a few weeks after the argument the general left for war. The prince was now under the supervision of Major Graziani, the highest ranked military officer left in the palace. The Major introduced himself to the prince and they did not meet since. It has been four weeks.
After the prince woke up, he washed in his bathroom. He then had breakfast in his own private lounge. He took a book from the palace library, read it in his private study. He then walked in the large palace's garden. Had lunch served outside. Then went back in his apartments and read some more. He was granted the authorization to train with the soldiers twice a week to maintain physical activity. He thought this could be an occasion to bound a little. It was not. The soldiers treated him like the most delicate flower. They dared not joke, fight, or even truly train with him. The whole experiment was terribly frustrating.
The only pleasant moment since Hadrien left for war was the visit of the Prince Heir of the Saudi Califate. Prince Muhammad Al Saoud was a pleasant guest during his stay. Despite his approximative master of the French language he was very funny and smart. He chatted with Victor as equal and for the first time since the general someone was paying attention to him. He wished prince Muhammad could stay but when his short stay came to an end everything went back to boring normal.
Victor was lying in the sofa in his private lounge. Looking straight at the ceiling, thinking about how he could keep himself busy. He tried keeping a diary, but he did not know what to write. He tried painting, learning Arabic from his servants, gardening. He felt nothing. He was just lonely, he wanted someone to talk to. He missed his brother, he missed his friends, he missed his late father. He missed Hadrien. The unmistakable whirring of armored vehicle interrupted Victor's thinking. He jumped out of the sofa and ran to the balcony. Several cars and trucks were parking in the street in front of the palace. The prince was excited, his mind was racing. He was trying to think about the most natural and suitable way for him to sneak around the right wing of the palace. Where he could "accidentally" bump into the general. He was not sure what to say if that was to happen still. It was almost six in the afternoon and he felt that he could just wait diner and have it in the dining room. He usually had diner in his private apartments but occasionally he did show up in the great dining room. So that would not be too unusual of him he thought to himself.
Before diner Victor had a bath. He wanted to wear his formal uniform, but without any official reason he had second thoughts. He wanted to avoid betraying his own excitement. His plan was to get the general to notice him, however one does not want to look desperate. He specifically asked his servant to call him for diner when it was served for the military officials too. It was almost eight when he left his apartments and made his way to the dining room.
"His imperial highness Prince Victor" announced the guard when he was about to enter the dining room. As usual everyone stood up when he entered the room and the officers went quiet. It was customary for the first chair in the end of the table to be empty, reserved only for the prince. The chair at the other end of the table was reserved for whoever was the highest ranked officer in the palace. Someone was sitting in that chair, but this was not Hadrien. the deception could most likely be read on the prince's face. The general was not back in the palace. The diner was awful for Victor. He wanted to cry out of frustration, but he had to keep his composure. It is a strange feeling to be in a room full of people but to feel so lonely regardless. No one was talking to him, no one was paying attention to him. He sat silently and ate his diner. Staring at his plate with despair and sadness.
After diner, the prince went back to his apartments and directly sunk into his bed. Maybe the general would not come back after all. Maybe his headquarters were somewhere else now? Something could have happened to him during battle. He might be injured, or worse? The prince thought that he most likely would have been warned. But no one speaks to him in this palace. Surely, he would have overheard it during diner thought. He could not think straight, he started to divagate, and slowly fell asleep.
Several days had gone by, nothing had changed. Victor was coming to terms with the eventuality that the general would not come back to Jerash. He kept taking Arabic lessons, reading books, and exercising with the soldiers. He took the use of having diner at the garden's lookout and watch the golden sunset over the ancient city. His days were filled with melancholy and dreams for a better future.
Victor was reading in his study, it was late in the evening, but he was not sleeping yet. The golden dim light of his desk lamp allowing the prince to take yet another journey through literature. The palace was silent. You could hear the wind through the branches in the garden. Victor was absently reading; his eyes were browsing the heavy paragraphs, but his mind was elsewhere.
One knock at his study door was heard. The prince startled surprised. A guard came in, he was alone.
"Your highness" he said bowing "you need to follow me"
"What is happening? Why do you need me so late?" asked the prince genuinely surprised. The guard did not answer, he was obviously uncomfortable. Victor was getting worried, being dragged out of his private apartments at this hour, by only one guard, meant trouble. The prince stood up and nodded to the guard that he would follow him.
A million thoughts crossed his mind. Perhaps the prince was transferred in another place, in another city. Maybe he was going to be interrogated for information the rebels thought he had. Then the idea hit him, that could be the end. He was to meet his ultimate demise, being executed in the middle of the night. When this crossed his mind his heart was heavy, but he was resigned. If this was to be the end, then he would die with dignity, like his father did, like his brother would like him to do. He would not cry, nor beg or plead. As he walked the long palace's corridors, he slowly accepted his fate.
When the guard finally halted, they had reached the library's entrance. the guard opened the door.
"Your highness" he said while signalling him to enter the library. When Victor entered, the room was plunged into obscurity and only a feeble light was allowing the prince to know where he stepped. Transcended by curiosity he walked shyly amongst the large wooden bookshelf. He had been here countless times before. Something was different tonight. Perhaps the moonlight atmosphere, or the thrill of the unknown. Then he noticed it, by the window. He slowly approached it. A large mahogany piano was standing there, majestically. The reddish wood delicately polished shined in the dim light. Golden leaves ornaments were engraved on its sides and legs. Laid on the closed fall board a letter was disposed. Victor was unsure that was meant for him to read, but his curiosity took over and he grabbed it.
"Victor, I had the most amazing chat with prince Mohammad Al Saoud about you. He told me you missed playing music amongst a great many number of things. I hope this gift will relieve you of some of the nostalgy you might endure. Hadrien"
The prince's heart could have jumped from his chest. Ten minutes ago, he thought he was about to be executed, and now he was tearing up reading the general's kind words. He sat on the piano bench stunned from the emotional roller-coaster. After several minutes sitting there, enjoying the first true joy he felt for weeks, the prince stood up and went back to his apartments. Once in his bedroom he negligently tossed his clothes aside and, naked, slipped in his sheets.
He laid on his back and closed his eyes. Thinking about Hadrien's firm and gentle hand he rubbed his own all over his smooth belly and around his bellybutton. His cock was slowly erecting as his fingertips browsed the delicate skin from his belly to his dark blond pubic hair. He thought about Hadrien's strong arm, embracing his body. He smelled his own armpits thinking about the manly smell of his master. His right hand now stroking his cock, imagining this was not his own but the one of the man he worshiped. His left hand fondled his ball-sack, and then explored further down. His fingers now at the entrance of his cherry. Reminiscing the feeling that came from being penetrated. Being owned, feeling vulnerable yet protected. The pleasure radiating from inside his cherry through all his body. Victor was now fingering his hole steadily and moaning. He wanted to feel his veiny cock filling him, he felt empty without his master to worship. He desired him more than he had desired anything else. Serving Hadrien was not his choice, it was his duty.
Heavy streams of cum splattered his face, chest, and belly as he reached the paroxysm of pleasure. "Gosh I really miss him" he thought to himself before falling asleep, still covered in his own semen.