Nikkol didn't feel better in the morning.

The woman the night before didn't satisfy him as much as he needed.

Or maybe it was the wrong kind of satisfaction.

He was upset and disappointed and he went with sex as a release.

He should've went with something a little less intimate, more aggressive. Like fighting.

Or drinking until he blacked out, but that probably would've led him to the same place he ended up with the addition of a big headache, so probably a good thing he avoided that.

So, he used the remainder of that energy during training.

He could feel himself running faster than normal, lifting more than normal, swinging his sword better and faster.

He still wasn't the best performer, but it was a definite improvement over his normal.

Yet the energy he had thought was gone seemed to build right back up as soon as he was back on post, his body itching to move around while he forced himself to stay still and perfectly upright.

He didn't know where all the energy came from. It wasn't like the prince hadn't taken him to bed and ignored him after for the first time, it was kind of their regular. What made that time so different?

With all the time that he was forced to stand there, Nikkol came up with a theory.

The night before last, S-the prince had let him, or more like forced him, to speak his mind. He had talked freely and without consequence. Well, it seems the consequence just brought itself up hours later with all the energy inside him. He had spoken freely and not been punished. And perhaps that was what he was craving, what would relive him of the energy. To have the weight of the law off his shoulders once more, the be with the prince once again.

But there was a problem with that.

The prince was currently ignoring him and probably would until he felt the need rise up again. There was a pretty good chance that he'd grab him again today if history held true, but no guarantees. Nikkol was on the prince's schedule.

And, probably a much bigger problem, he wasn't allowed to speak like that again. In his realization he had forgotten Prince Setial's conditions. 'Only for tonight'. Even if he did take him again, he wouldn't be able to speak freely anyways, if that's even what the energy was about. Nikkol was really at a loss.

Perhaps he had to live with this restless energy for a while.

The thought made him very upset.

His job was to stand impossibly still for hours on end. They got no breaks and couldn't even let their eyes move.

He really hoped Prince Setial would come and relieve him of his duty.

If he didn't, he just might have to quit.

The thought made his stomach turn in excitement.

To quit and be free of his stance. To be able to leave and do what he wanted when he wanted. To work with his hands and create and destroy instead of having them hold stiff at his sides.

He squished that idea down, knowing it was foolish.

He was lucky to have the job he did.

The castle took care of its staff and he got paid a very generous amount. He was surrounded by his friends all the time. Plus, Herval probably wouldn't let him. Training guards took a while so they were very determined to keep the ones they had.

Maybe Avaviles or Caeviya would come and invade sometime soon.

That would make things so much more interesting.

Despite all his training and all the years he had been in service of the castle as a guard, Nikkol had never really fought anyone, never killed anyone.

Once more, he wished for noble blood. If he was a knight he'd be able to have experienced all of this instead of almost wishing for a disastrous move in the war.

He heard footsteps walking his way from the throne room.

He knew it wasn't Setial, he didn't see him walk that way.

He assumed it was knights or servants, possibly even a rare glimpse of the king.

When the footsteps passed, Nikkol got a quick view of King Pythal. He'd only seen the King a handful of times.

He had been there when they were sworn in to protect the castle. And he looked very similar to Setial. They had the same dark hair and grey eyes, except his hair had streaks of grey and he had facial hair coating his chin while Setial-the prince, kept his face cleanly shaved.

It wasn't rare, more uncommon, for the King to pass this way. Not much was there for him on the side of the castle.

What perhaps made the event slightly more unusual was there was a person next to him.

Again, not that rare for somebody to walk with the King.

What made this person different, was the golden hair on his head.

Nikkol couldn't help but let his eyes trail after their retreating backs, fascinated.

Light hair wasn't something that Nikkol had ever thought of before because it was only heard of much more south.

Nobody had light hair in Takkoria. Everyone's was somewhere between brown and black. Not even close to yellow.

There was no doubt in Nikkol's mind who he was looking at.

Ezorah, the bastard son of the King.

A few months ago several knights had left for some secret mission and recently came back with him.

Despite being a bastard, the King seemed to greatly favor him over Setial.

And they were headed to Setial's room.

Nikkol knew this could only mean disaster.

Despite the daunting realization, he couldn't help the flutter of hope and anticipation in his gut.

They would get him mad.

He'd want to get back at them.

And it was likely he'd use Nikkol to get it.

The energy he'd been suffering with all day got much worse at the thought, Nikkol straining himself to keep himself still, mind focused completely on holding those hands still, but still couldn't stop the slight tap of the pad of his middle finger against his armor.

He waited, listened for footsteps.

He thought he heard some, but they belonged to a servant.

Several times he got excited then disappointed as nobody of concern passed his view.

Until the King walked back, his face a flash of annoyance.

Nikkol's ears must have had super hearing by now, the constant alertness for quite some time not something that should've been possible.

Without much time passing, Ezorah appeared again, walking after his father wearing an unreadable expression.

And Nikkol waited, excited to be able to move freely.

To speak freely.

To ignore his duty and be with the prince.

To be filled with excitement.

To have a change.

And he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited some more, the excitement boiling down.

The restless energy slowly extinguishing itself as his extra efforts started to wear on him.

It wasn't close to the end of his shift, but Nikkol found himself suddenly exhausted.

All of that waiting, all of that hope, all of that strain for nothing. He hadn't even seen Setial that day.

Perhaps he had overestimated himself, as he had before with his abilities as a boy and with his skill as a guard during training. Both had ended with him hurt, as this would end too.

He should've predicted this, should've been aware.

He was nothing but a tool for the prince to relieve his frustrations.

Setial didn't see him as another human.

Sure, he admittedly enjoyed getting used, but it wasn't up to him when that'd happen.

Everything about whatever was going on with them was up to Setial.

Nikkol needed to remember his place.

But Setial was only using him to get the King mad.

If the King got mad, Nikkol knew he would likely take it out on him.

He would die if the prince had his way.

Perhaps it was a good thing the prince didn't see him today.

Perhaps it would be a good thing if he forgot Nikkol existed at all.

Nikkol didn't like his life, but didn't want it to end just yet.

He maybe even valued it more than the excitement that he got when being with the prince.

Maybe.