"I can't believe we're actually in Rome!" Ana exclaims, near-skipping through the Fiumicino airport doors towards the taxi rank, "There's so much to do - oh! Can we please have pizza for dinner tonight? I've always wanted to try authentic Italian pizza!"
"Say cheese," Allen interjects; Ana strikes a cute pose with her supposedly-secret-boyfriend, Blake. He looks tired, but smiles with a peace sign towards Allen's phone anyway.
Allen takes the picture.
"Pizza sounds good to me - what do you think?" He replies.
"Eh, I'm in more of a seafood mood," Jenna says with a shrug of her shoulders, "Which reminds me," she smacks her fist against her palm, spinning to face Ana, "Ana! You, me, pepper spray, c'mon!"
"Wh-?"
"How the hell did seafood remind you of pepper spray?" Blake balks; Jenna sticks her tongue out at him as she steals Allen's little sister away, "Hey-!"
"You boys wouldn't understand, but a woman needs her protection-"
"Jenna, I'm fine, please, I don't need pepper spray-"
"And as such it's my responsibility to ensure that Allen's itty-witty-baby sister," Jenna pinches Ana's cheek for dramatic effect, her other arm slung around her shoulder, "Is protected. Ciao!"
"Ah!"
"What do you mean ciao? Hey- Hey, get back here!" Blake shouts, "What about your bags?!"
"Put them in the cab for me!"
"Put your own bags in the-! God damn it," Blake growls in frustration, dragging his hands down his face—he turns to Allen, "You could have anyone in the world as your best friend, man. Anyone. Why her?!"
Allen hums and takes a photo of the young man now glowering at him in front of the taxi rank. He looks rather dramatic, with his overpriced tan coat floating about in the wind behind him. Allen feels the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. Blake and Jenna really do look the most alike when they're having a sulk.
He has to resist the urge to point it out - Blake deserves to get a little rest in first before Allen teases him too much. It was a long flight.
He then tells Blake to go flag down a taxi willing to wait for a bit while he wrangles the bags. No point standing around and doing nothing – knowing Jenna's shopping habits, they've got time.
───※ ·❆· ※───
The taxi driver pulls the rolling door shut, before he slips back into the driver's seat and asks where they're going in heavily-accented English. Ana leans forward to give him the address of their hotel while Allen relaxes back into his uncomfortable third-row seat.
Allen closes his eyes; he's content to let his little sister take charge of this one.
"Tired?"
Allen hums, hearing the telltale click of the seatbelt to his left – Jenna's finally buckled in. He cracks open an eye to see her fiddling with her purse, before he closes it again. She's probably just trying to unearth her phone or something.
He half-listens to the excited chatter of the group as the taxi pulls away from the curb. Ana and Blake sound particularly excited about visiting the Colosseum. Jenna does as well, if her constant interjections of 'cool gladiator facts' have anything to say.
Allen smiles to himself. Next to their upcoming Dolomites day hike (that he's not looking forward to), she seems the most excited about the Colosseum. He finds himself looking forward to it too.
Hopefully he'll be able to get some nice photos for their holiday album.
Time passes as the taxi weaves throughout the city and the chatter begins to die down. Ana and Blake become engaged in a hushed conversation of their own as Jenna sprawls out in the car seat behind them, fingers tapping away at her phone.
Allen yawns, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
His head lulls to the side.
He absentmindedly watches Jenna play her gem-matching game for a few rounds, feeling more and more amused with every missed timer—she's not very good at it. He waits until she's given up on the game and returned to mindlessly scrolling through her social media feed before he interrupts her.
"Thank you, by the way," he says, resisting the urge to laugh when she startles mid-scroll.
"Huh?"
"For the trip," he elaborates, turning his gaze toward the window, "I forgot to say it on the plane."
She barks out an amused laugh, reaching over to ruffle his hair—he bats her hand away and tells her to stop it. She cackles and withdraws her hand with a wolfish grin.
"Don't sweat it, seriously," Jenna says, absentmindedly taking a picture of a cheese shop as they pass by, "Just think of it as a week away from our dogshit parents, or a well-earned vacation to celebrate you never having to see your piece of shit mum ever again. The possibilities are endless."
"Mm," he hums, " Just don't forget to tell me how much everything costs so I can pay you back."
Jenna snorts.
"Yeah, sure," she replies, clearly intending to do the exact opposite.
"Jenna–"
"Ah-bah-bah-bah—Sorry, I can't hear you over all the fun we're going to have," she interrupts, pretending to plug her ears; she grins, "My money, my rules, buddy. You can pay me back by having the time of your life."
Allen groans, failing to suppress a smile of his own. He rolls his eyes and tells her to put that ridiculous smile away. Their taxi has finally come to a stop in front of their hotel.
───※ ·❆· ※───
Thwack!
"Go! Go! Go!"
The rounded stone soars through the sky as Godien stabs his blade into the soil and runs. His gilded boots slam against the dirt pentagram drawn into the soil as he races past the first, the second, the third base—arm outstretched as he finally approaches the second to last–
"You're out!"
"Blast it!" Godien curses, his toe making contact with the fourth base mere seconds after the stone-keep catches the rounded stone in his mitt.
The knight laughs, "Apologies, your highness!"
"Liar," Godien retorts, tone sharp despite the grin tearing his cheeks asunder. He does a cursory stretch before jogging back towards his teammates, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't fibbing a sin, Sir Diarmad–?"
"Prince Godien dir Fearg Impireal!"
Every knighted man, woman, and daemon in-between either freeze, or startle.
Godien stumbles over a rock and falls face-first into the dirt—it's almost a miracle that he doesn't end up eating it too.
He feels the shadow of his younger cousin envelop him as he pulls himself to his knees, throat suddenly drier than the Scorchlands on a hot summer's day. He can't help but notice the entire courtyard has gone silent.
He tries not to gulp too loudly.
"Your highness."
Against every fiber of his better judgement begging him not to, Godien looks up—he blanches. Wow, his cousin's eyes are certainly... red right now. Who knew a little natural back-lighting would be all Iarlaith needs to make those fluffy purple locks look absolutely freaking terrifying–
"Iarlaith, hey, haha... fancy seeing you out here–"
"Get up."
Godien scrambles to his feet.
"Oh, wow, would you look at the time," Godien laughs a little too hard, turning to face the knights with a strained grin, "That's a game, set and match for me, I'm afraid. Sincerest appreciations to each and every one of you for indulging me in this wonderous experience–"
"Godien."
"Thanks for the great game; would love to play again sometime—eek!" Godien backwards walk-jog-runs towards the palace entrance, hands nervously flailing about as Iarlaith herds him out like a prized cattle to the slaughter, "Remember me fondly. May the lord-and-lady-be-with-you-bye!"
The second the heel of his boot touches the marble floor of the palace hallway, he spins on his heel and bolts.
Maybe if he runs fast enough, Iarlaith will forgive him.
───※ ·❆· ※───
Iarlaith hasn't forgiven him.
"Your sword."
"Hey-!"
"Your pin."
"Ow-!"
"Your cape—stop," Iarlaith uses his arm to block Godien's path, halting him in place. His red eyes glower with the promise of Godien's imminent demise as he pointedly pins his royal capelet to his left shoulder—Godien winces; "Don't be an infant."
"I'm not being an–" Godien cuts himself off, staring up at the hallway's ornate ceiling in resignation, "We both know I don't need to go to this meeting; why am I even here—ow! Iarlaith!"
"My apologies," Iarlaith replies without a single crumb of remorse; "Need I remind you that you are a Prince? Or were you hit in the head with a few too many stones while playing 'sword ball' with the knights?"
Godien frowns, eyes darting to the marble tile below.
Iarlaith sighs.
"You're not a child anymore, your highness," he says; Godien glances up to see his cousin watching him with an almost pitiful gaze, "These games need to stop, or at the very least mature above 'damaging the knight's equipment just for fun'. Alright?"
Godien stares into Iarlaith's eyes for a long beat, before looking away with a defeated sigh of his own.
He then straightens his back and fixes his patented People's Prince Smile right into place.
"After you, milord," he replies, performing a dramatic bow.
Iarlaith sighs again, deeper this time, "There will be a single sun in the sky on the day you learn how to address people properly."
Godien laughs, the two resuming their original pace towards the Minister's Court.
"Well if you must play the technicality game, you are a High Lord so–"
Iarlaith pulls out his own papers from under his arm, flicking through them as they round the final corner towards the Minister's Court; "I am not playing the technicality game—I am on duty. I am not a High Lord while I am on duty."
"I don't believe that's how it works–"
"You believed it would be a good idea to use sword flats to smack stones around the Knight's Courtyard while running around on a dirt pentagram," Iarlaith pauses, palms flat against the ornate dark wooden doors leading into the Minister's Court, "Forgive me for not taking your royal words for the infinite depths of wisdom that they are."
Godien's jaw drops in a dramatic show of offence.
Iarlaith's mouth twitches into a brief smirk. He then pushes open the doors before Godien has a chance to respond, his expression reverting back into that of a stone-cold professional as he gestures for the Speaker to announce their entrance into the room.
"His Royal Highness, Second Prince Godien of Fearg Impireal and his Grace, High Lord Iarlaith of Rosenbreck have arrived."
The two perform the High King's Salute—a hand over the heart and a mild bow of the head—before making their way towards the Imperial Stand.
Godien can feel his older sister glaring daggers at him as he crosses the room, her gaze setting fire to his dark blue hair from above. He tries not to react as he takes his seat beside the High Queen, Iarlaith taking position behind him – as is standard for a Royal Adviser. He's certainly not glancing in that direction for the rest of the afternoon...
Eilis might decide to burn him to death with her retina the second they make eye contact.
───※ ·❆· ※───
Click–
"Wh- Jenna, come on," Allen gives Jenna a look as he lowers his phone – this being the third photo in a row flubbed by her silly expressions; "One nice photo per location. You promised."
"Boo, fine," Jenna monotones, her expression quickly bouncing back into a sharp grin as Allen resets and reraises the phone into the air.
"Thank you—Say cheese!"
"Cheese!"
Click.
"You're insufferable."
"You love me," She sing-songs back.
Allen rolls his eyes with an amused smile. He opens his Photo Gallery app just to make sure she hasn't tried to hide another pair of 'bunny ears' behind her little brother's head. The foot of difference between the two has never seemed to put a stop on her determination to do it in every single group photo he tries to take. It's always annoying in the moment, but he can never quite bring himself to delete the photos either.
He pulls up the photo in question—his smile softens. Not a pair of bunny ears to be found.
Blake stands to the right, his brown hair fluttering in the wind as his hazel eyes gaze at the camera. He's partially bent over to better stay in frame, his signature tan coat flapping about behind him. He's not at all dressed for a hike up the Dolomites, but at least he came in a pair of relatively sensible shoes.
Allen might've had a heart attack if he'd decided to rock up in the red-soled ones.
Allen's little sister stands in the middle of the group, her black hair held in place by an adorable green headband tied into an asymmetrical bow. Donned in a matching green pinafore skirt and a pair of light brown hiking boots, Ana seems more prepared for the trip than both Park siblings combined.
Her smile is bright and wide—Allen's heart aches. To think there was a time where she could never smile at all. He's so proud of her.
Jenna stands to Ana's left, her purple-tipped auburn hair whipping in the wind as she joyously pumps her fist into the air. Her smile is as electric as the purple and black rock-inspired outfit she's put on for the day, spiked cuffs and all.
The purple platform boots are certainly a choice, but he gave up on that argument hours ago. Beauty is pain, apparently. He's not going to pretend he gets it, but as long as she doesn't roll an ankle climbing up or down the mountainous terrain...
He'd packed a first aid kit, just in case.
Finally, Allen's own black-haired mop is staring back at him from the bottom left of the screen, the sun doing nothing to hide the dark rings under his eyes from yet another sleepless night. He's wearing a smile of his own as he does his best to stay out of the shot while still technically being in it.
He's never been a big fan of standing in front of the camera–
"Allen!"
"Ah-!" Allen startles, fumbling his phone—almost dropping it; "Ana!"
She giggles, her bright blue eyes twinkling in the sun; "You coming?"
Allen stares at her for a long beat. He then sighs, nods and slips his phone back into his right pocket – though not before he sets that group photo as his lock screen wallpaper, replacing the ridiculous photo they took inside the Colosseum earlier that week.
He accepts his hiking pack back from Blake and pulls it on over the blue of his short-sleeved sweater.
"Thanks."
Blake gives him a thumbs up as he pulls on his own pack, Ana taking off to catch up to Jenna as she stands roughly twenty feet ahead, engrossed in reading the signpost.
Allen's eyes follow the narrow gravel path behind her as it leads up past a grassy plain, dotted with the occasional hiker. It briefly disappears into a sparse spruce forest before finally reemerging at the foot of the towering Dolomites range behind it.
Allen finds himself turning a little paler than usual.
He's suddenly not so sure that this hiking trip is a good idea.