Through His Eyes
Chapter One
~Dublin, Ireland – May 21st, 1513~
‘’Niall, son, you need to get ready for the ball tonight. Me having to tell you over and over is really exhausting me.’’ Father says as he stares at me, stern and unappealing like always. It was a struggle to be in such a high honor of society, because I hardly ever get to pretend to be a normal person.
‘’I am, Father, I just have to take care of some minor things first.’’ I assure him. ‘’Well, you better hurry on upstairs. We don’t have all day to be lagging around, now go.’’ He demands as he points towards the dining hall door. ‘’Yes, Sir.’’ I nod lightly as I stand from my seat and begin the walk back to my room.
As I was excelling up the broad stair case, I passed one of my father’s servants. The way my father treated these poor, innocent people hurt me. As for a small hand full of them, however, he treated perfectly fine. But only because he thought they were worthy of it, and the others weren’t.
‘’Good afternoon, Master Horan.’’ He mumbles nervously as I stop mid step. ‘’Good afternoon.’’ I say in return, but he doesn’t do anything but stand there in a still. Shaking lightly and nervously as his eyes stare ahead, not directly looking at me, just like my father taught them to do.
‘’D-do you need any-anything d-done f-for you, sir?’’ He asks as his bottom lip quivers. ‘’No, but thank you. Now, you go along now, go get you some refreshments before continuing.’’ I say, knowing that he would listen to what I say. Besides, my father taught them to do that too. Any one of high honor in the entire country, they had to obey.
‘’But sir, with all due respect, your father informed me to-‘’ I sigh, cutting him off right in the middle of his reply. ‘’Well, I’m telling you to do this, so do it. If he asks why, then tell him that I assigned you a small rest. If he has any problems with it, he can run through me. So please, do as I ask, and take a rest for yourself.’’ I say with a convincing tone.
He nods nervously as he glances at me for a slight half second, not very long at all. ‘’Ye-yes, Sir.’’ He mumbles. I sigh gently to myself before continuing up the stairs, almost to the next floor, even though I still have more floors to go.
Most of the time I would leave my father’s servants to him, and not say anything to them that was demanding, or in this case, helpful. But at times it really gets to me, it burns me up inside. I hate seeing them like that.
Torn clothes that were hardly enough to allow them to survive during the cold winters. Dirt and sweat dried on their face year-round. The way that they would shake when some one very important would pass by always had me curious of their thoughts.
My father always tells me to get the best out of the worst. But in this reality, he was turning the best into the worst. Because almost all of the workers here are malnourished, very, very slim, and have either a reading or speaking defect.
Their education process was hardly advised, because my father always assumed that if they knew less important things and information, they could focus more on a simple task. But yet, I know that’s a fib, and so does he, he just refuses to admit to it all.
Just last month, a very important person came from England, the queen herself. My father had all the stocks drown out for this visit, it was perhaps the most important one we’ve had since I was born, unaware of past events.
And this is the week that he worked them to the hardest, to their breaking points. Two of my father’s dining workers had a heat stroke, because he kept the kitchen so hot and never opened the windows for any reason at all.
However, he thinks it was just their fault, and not his. But of course, it was. The day after the Queen left, my father raised Hell onto the entire estate. Blaming everyone from the tailors to the garden workers, who were people that didn’t even do a thing, for causing the worst environment for the Queen at the time.
But, I knew for sure that it wasn’t their fault. These people were taking his orders, doing what he demanded, and never getting any type of reward at all. Not even a simple ‘thank you’ from him, or hardly a glance at all.
As for me, on the other hand, I tend to treat them like the human they are. They deserve a thank you every once and a while. They need a smile, just to keep their day enjoyable and to have them assuring that at least one person in the entire world appreciates what they do.
I reach my room, which was on the seventeenth level of the palace. I was so deep into my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed I had made it this far. I sighed once more to myself as I opened my door and stepped into the cold, candle lite room.
As I look near my wardrobe, I see tonight’s attire awaiting on a hook for me. I shake my head shamefully, gently. My father goes all out for these type of things, thinking that I’ll find my Princess, literally.
But as always, I’d rather be the pathetic, lonely, horrible excuse for a Prince, than to pretend to be happy.
‘’Niall, son, you need to get ready for the ball tonight. Me having to tell you over and over is really exhausting me.’’ Father says as he stares at me, stern and unappealing like always. It was a struggle to be in such a high honor of society, because I hardly ever get to pretend to be a normal person.
‘’I am, Father, I just have to take care of some minor things first.’’ I assure him. ‘’Well, you better hurry on upstairs. We don’t have all day to be lagging around, now go.’’ He demands as he points towards the dining hall door. ‘’Yes, Sir.’’ I nod lightly as I stand from my seat and begin the walk back to my room.
As I was excelling up the broad stair case, I passed one of my father’s servants. The way my father treated these poor, innocent people hurt me. As for a small hand full of them, however, he treated perfectly fine. But only because he thought they were worthy of it, and the others weren’t.
‘’Good afternoon, Master Horan.’’ He mumbles nervously as I stop mid step. ‘’Good afternoon.’’ I say in return, but he doesn’t do anything but stand there in a still. Shaking lightly and nervously as his eyes stare ahead, not directly looking at me, just like my father taught them to do.
‘’D-do you need any-anything d-done f-for you, sir?’’ He asks as his bottom lip quivers. ‘’No, but thank you. Now, you go along now, go get you some refreshments before continuing.’’ I say, knowing that he would listen to what I say. Besides, my father taught them to do that too. Any one of high honor in the entire country, they had to obey.
‘’But sir, with all due respect, your father informed me to-‘’ I sigh, cutting him off right in the middle of his reply. ‘’Well, I’m telling you to do this, so do it. If he asks why, then tell him that I assigned you a small rest. If he has any problems with it, he can run through me. So please, do as I ask, and take a rest for yourself.’’ I say with a convincing tone.
He nods nervously as he glances at me for a slight half second, not very long at all. ‘’Ye-yes, Sir.’’ He mumbles. I sigh gently to myself before continuing up the stairs, almost to the next floor, even though I still have more floors to go.
Most of the time I would leave my father’s servants to him, and not say anything to them that was demanding, or in this case, helpful. But at times it really gets to me, it burns me up inside. I hate seeing them like that.
Torn clothes that were hardly enough to allow them to survive during the cold winters. Dirt and sweat dried on their face year-round. The way that they would shake when some one very important would pass by always had me curious of their thoughts.
My father always tells me to get the best out of the worst. But in this reality, he was turning the best into the worst. Because almost all of the workers here are malnourished, very, very slim, and have either a reading or speaking defect.
Their education process was hardly advised, because my father always assumed that if they knew less important things and information, they could focus more on a simple task. But yet, I know that’s a fib, and so does he, he just refuses to admit to it all.
Just last month, a very important person came from England, the queen herself. My father had all the stocks drown out for this visit, it was perhaps the most important one we’ve had since I was born, unaware of past events.
And this is the week that he worked them to the hardest, to their breaking points. Two of my father’s dining workers had a heat stroke, because he kept the kitchen so hot and never opened the windows for any reason at all.
However, he thinks it was just their fault, and not his. But of course, it was. The day after the Queen left, my father raised Hell onto the entire estate. Blaming everyone from the tailors to the garden workers, who were people that didn’t even do a thing, for causing the worst environment for the Queen at the time.
But, I knew for sure that it wasn’t their fault. These people were taking his orders, doing what he demanded, and never getting any type of reward at all. Not even a simple ‘thank you’ from him, or hardly a glance at all.
As for me, on the other hand, I tend to treat them like the human they are. They deserve a thank you every once and a while. They need a smile, just to keep their day enjoyable and to have them assuring that at least one person in the entire world appreciates what they do.
I reach my room, which was on the seventeenth level of the palace. I was so deep into my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed I had made it this far. I sighed once more to myself as I opened my door and stepped into the cold, candle lite room.
As I look near my wardrobe, I see tonight’s attire awaiting on a hook for me. I shake my head shamefully, gently. My father goes all out for these type of things, thinking that I’ll find my Princess, literally.
But as always, I’d rather be the pathetic, lonely, horrible excuse for a Prince, than to pretend to be happy.
Notes
So, keep or delete? This is going to be very different, and I hope you guys like so much. Please comment your thoughts if you have any, or your lovely opinions. I ♥ you, thanks for reading it so far! Hope you get attached! xx
--B
Loving it so far! :)
7/27/15