....
"Young master, what are you reading?"
Lucien asked.
"A book, Lucien," Arthur deadpanned. "Seriously, I thought you were better than this."
The boy's expression didn't change in the slightest.
"I meant the subject."
"Oh, you should've just said that. I'm reading random bits of everything; I'm just learning the bare minimum of everything I can."
Arthur explained.
"So, you're just trying to cram as much as you can before the entrance exams."
"Bingo."
Arthur turned the page of the notebook without looking up.
It wasn't a textbook, rather, it was a notebook Art had picked up while they were in the limo.
Of course, he couldn't bring all the books for which the questions were for, so he opted to search the internet. He compiled everything he could find into the notebook and began reading it.
Lucien stood there, studying for a moment.
"It's time for training."
He spoke.
"Isn't that in an hour?"
Arthur asked.
"No, it's now."
Arthur sighed, slipping a pen into place before closing the notebook.
"Let's get this over with."
He followed Lucien into the spacious lounge.
The private jet was large.
It was something that only high-ranking nobles could afford to travel in.
"Young master, I suggest that you put in more effort in training today."
"And why is that?"
Arthur asked as he pushed the plush sofas to the side.
"Your brother officially posted on his blog that he will be taking the entrance exam for the academy."
Lucien said.
Arthur paused, then turned his head in Lucien's direction.
"Which one?"
"Lavender Academy, the one you aim to attend."
"Fuck."
Arthur cursed.
'How could I have forgotten?'
It had completely slipped his mind.
The fourth prince was attending the academy, along with the first princess.
The fourth prince happened to be his brother, Arthur's adoptive brother. Though the boy was adopted, he happened to have talent that was only second to the current heir, who also happened to the first princess.
"Do you think he'll take the jet away?"
Arthur asked anxiously.
Lucien did not answer.
He just stared blankly.
"If you're done, let's begin."
He finally said.
The fourth prince also happened to be the person who gifted him this very jet as a parting gift.
"Okay." Arthur said, rolling up his sleeves. "Is it the same as yesterday?"
Lucien ignored him.
"Get into the stance—keep your knees bent and your weight balanced."
Lucien ordered.
Arthur did as he was told.
"No, no. You keep on leaning too heavily on your lead foot, fix that."
Arthur then dropped into a guarded stance.
'In the game, I didn't run into my brother.'
'I need to avoid him here, if he does, there's no telling what might happen.'
The fourth prince—his brother, was someone who thrived in chaos. Not the real chaos where thousands died each second, no, it was the little things.
He was mischievous.
His brother hadn't given him the gift out of kindness, rather, it was because it was his perfect chance to cause trouble.
In a handwritten letter, his brother had explained that it was a late parting gift, and that he shouldn't worry because he had made sure it would seem like it was the second prince that sent it.
"Now—move!"
Lucien barked.
Art spent the next hour doing the most basic drills—footwork patterns, short sprints, evasive steps, guard transitions.
Lucien corrected Arthur's whenever it slipped, and sometimes, even helped him by using a practice sword to adjust his posture.
"See? I'm not completely hopeless."
"Whatever you say."
Lucien said, tossing him a flask of water.
Arthur caught it, then took it in a long gulp.
"I'll assume we're done for today."
"Yes."
Arthur rearranged the sofas.
"Bring a change of clothes and a cold drink to my room, I'll be in the shower if you need me."
....
"Alcohol? What am I supposed to do with this?"
Lucien would, of course, know that while Arthur was studying, he wouldn't dare drink.
'But he did it anyway.'
Art shook his head, putting the bottle of alcohol away, before continuing his reading session.
Minutes turned into hours, and before Art knew it, it was already past twelve.
"Young Master."
Lucien voice came through the door.
"Yes?"
"We're almost at the border."
"And so?"
"They'll require identification before they allow us to go through."
"I miss the point of why you called me, just give them our Ids yourself."
Arthur was annoyed—the kind of annoyance that came from lack of sleep.
"You're required to be there, since you're the one that's enrolling."
For a moment, there was silence, then Arthur stood up and walked towards the door before opening it.
"Let's go."
Arthur said.
A slight smile played at Lucien's lips upon seeing Arthur's condition.
"What's so funny?"
"You look like you haven't slept for days."
Arthur stared at Lucien expressionlessly.
Then, he went back into his room and brought back the notebook he was reading.
"Here, I'm sure you'll love reading this."
He handed the book over to Lucien.
And went in the direction of the lounge.
"This is the book you were reading."
"Yes, do whatever you want with it, I don't care at all."
He said, waving dismissively from behind.
In the lounge, he sat on a sofa.
Almost immediately, a gruff voice crackled through the jet's speakers, demanding that he showed identification.
"Lucien, come do it."
Arthur yelled for the boy.
Lucien came into the lounge, holding the notebook Arthur had given him in his arm.
"Young master, I can't do that, I don't have access— "
Arthur cut Lucien off before he could finish his words.
"Lucien, I know that you know the passwords of each and every one of everything I own, and you're pretending not to know since you thought you knew I did not know that you knew the passwords."
Arthur said.
There was no grin on his face as he said that.
"I know."
Arthur finished.
Then, he got up, heading back to his room.
"So, you better upload our Ids before they open fire, because if I don't get the chance to lay down on my bed before they gun us down...."
He stopped and looked over his shoulder.
".... Or you better hope we don't end up in hell together."