Merlin’s name wasn’t actually Merlin, at least not to some people. At the palace he was Kenta Kenjiya. (In Kuroba where the last name is recited first, it would be Kenjiya Kenta). He was the one and only. 

“You actually took your days of leniency off!” the prince exclaimed with foolhardy excitement as he plopped onto a sofa in the lounge and disgracefully kicked off his slippers. Kenta, as Merlin would be called within the palace, was sitting on that exact same sofa so it was quite uncomfortable.

“Please lower your legs,” Kenta said. He was eyeing the pink flesh of the prince’s exposed toes in disgust as he said this. 

“Where’d you go?” the prince asked, ignoring him. “Did you finally get yourself a girlfriend?” Then he gasped, jumping into a proper sitting position, body leaning forwards towards Kenta. He was ignoring the fact that Kenta was busy filing paperwork that the prince should have finished two days ago. “Is it that girl!?” the prince asked.

“Which one?”

The prince gasped once more, this time, more genuine. 

Kenta risked a sideways glance and broke his serious mask with a smirk. “I’m kidding.” He set the paperwork down and folded his arms, turning his full body towards the prince. “You were spying on me instead of doing your work again, weren’t you?” 

“No,” but the prince wasn’t even trying to hide his widening grin. 

Kenta scoffed. “When I’m around, you run off to play with girls or frolic in the woods with your bow and arrows. When I’m not around, you go poking your nose looking for me.” Kenta shook his head. “I don’t understand you.” 

“Well I understand you.” The prince leaned in, forcing Kenta to lean back. A lock of the prince’s raven-black hair fell over his eye, casting a shadow over the prince’s playful expression like a limp, squid-ink noodle. 

“Listen up, future shogun,” chortled the prince. 

Kenta sighed and folded his arms. 

At Kenta’s unimpressed expression, the prince’s stern brows furrowed deeper. “You’re better than any of the shogun’s real sons, so get used to these speeches of mine,” scolded the prince as if he weren’t acting like a child earlier. 

When he spoke of the shogun’s current sons, the prince was referring to the sons of the current head of the Kenjiya family. The Kenjiya family shogun, bearing the symbol of a sword and snake, was one of two shogunates appointed by the crown. The title of the shogun was passed down each generation in the family to the succeeding head of the family. The shogun was generally the eldest son, but the title favored whoever wielded their weapon the best. Although adopted, and not a blood relative to the shogun, Kenta was a likely candidate. 

The prince rolled his eyes at Kenta’s disapproving stare. “Okay, if not the shogun, then Wannabe Apprentice.” 

Kenta’s frown deepened. “When did I ever say I wanted to be an apprentice? 

The prince huffed. “Ever since you caught my mother’s attention, she’s been plotting your career as a scholar. Your statement on the economic decline in Hikizu village was phenomenal,” the prince simpered.

Kenta fell back against the hood of the couch. “Is that so?”

“Well, you’ve also written all the other things that I was supposed to write,” the prince added. 

“Then why are you sulking as if it were my fault?” demanded Kenta as he began picking at the stack of paper before him. 

The prince wrapped an arm around Kenta’s shoulder. “Because I get sad when all my friend does is work like a robot.” He shed a fake tear. “So sad.”

“As your bodyguard,” Kenta said with emphasis as he removed the prince’s arm from around his shoulders. “What I find most sad is the fact that you still think I’m here because I want to.” 

The prince poked him playfully, wiggling his eyebrows. “You didn’t deny being my friend!” 

Kenta grimaced. “You know what, your highness?” He picked up the stack of paperwork and placed it on the prince’s lap. “You can think whatever you want as long as you let me do my job,” he stood up, “and you do yours.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prince Saihi, his full name being Saihi Seihi, wasn’t always a lazy jerk. Or so Kenta’s fuzzy memories claimed it to be. His brain tended to retain random moments rather than important qualities, like the fact that the prince and Kenta had first bonded over their aspiration to become pirates. It wasn’t their aspiration when they had first met; the prince was already sixteen years old and Kenta was thirteen, but when their conversation rounded to the past, the prince asked Kenta if he would be his best mate. Kenta had said, “yes”.

Now Kenta was having second thoughts about that simple vow. Saihi was turning into his worst princely self. Between skipping board meetings and partying all night, even when the prince was becoming twenty-one this year, he still acted like a wild runt. 

Leaving the prince alone in the parlor except for the dozen bodyguards stationed around that very room, Kenta headed towards the training room to practice his sword. A pair of maids passed him, heads bent, whispering. Kenta could make out the words “his highness”, “celebration”, and “gay”. Kenta felt his temples throb. Kenta had been trying to forget the one rumor that spun within the palace. The rumor that the prince liked men. 

Kenta personally had nothing against the idea of the prince pursuing that sort of relationship. But he did not like how the rumors involved himself. Nor did he like the fact that the queen had personally requested him to her side just to tell him to watch over the prince to make sure he fell in love with a respectable woman. To Kenta’s great annoyance, the queen had performed an excellent speech over the prince’s responsibilities to producing the next crown heir. Finding a wife for the crown prince shouldn’t be the responsibility of a samurai.

Kenta hurried away into the courtyard and drew a wooden sword that he’d picked from the training bin. He’ll practice his swing and forget all nonsense. 

Unwittingly, Kenta’s mind wandered to the prince’s upcoming birthday celebration next week. He wondered if Odilia would show up at all. Unlikely, he thought, since she’d just have left for home. Kenta paused midswing. What did Odilia’s attendance mean to him anyways?