This is an edit of an old story that I decided to pick up again :) I've given both Norway and Denmark different names than I originally had, as I'm going with what I've heard they are! So Lukas is Norway, Mathias is Denmark, and Erick is Iceland! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it~

Standing by the pond, the wind ripped through my jacket, tearing at my skin, lifting my scarf from my face. I felt the icy burn creeping up my spine, my body crying at me to move, to escape this desolate emptiness…too many shades of gray, white snow falling all around me, gently riding the wind before coming to a peaceful stop beneath my unmoving feet. Carefully, I lifted a hand and caught the nearest flake, bringing it to my face to examine it before it melted away, its crystalline form a fleeting, mysterious beauty.

Through a child's eyes, there was nothing more fantastic than the first snowfall of the year.

Breathing in the frigid air deeply, I turned from my reflection on the iced surface of the water to the dark sky, watching the clouds shift and reform themselves. My mind failed to make the shapes it used to find carelessly; I now had to think to see the pictures. Somewhere behind this dreary wall of gray, I knew there shined an inextinguishable light, and yet it remained invisible, hiding, continuously striving to break through…

"Prince Lukas, please return to the palace. Your father is waiting for you."

The voice penetrated through the silent air, a cacophony to my unsuspecting ears. Disturbed, I found myself turning, gripping my jacket closer to myself. "I will. When I feel like it," I said simply, looking into the concerned eyes of my maid.

She gave me a submissive curtsy, ducking her head. "But your father insists, Your Majesty. He demanded to see you at once."

Sighing, my breath puffing out curiously, I gave my haven one last glance before trudging back through the snow, the maid not far behind. As I stepped in the door, another servant removed my winter clothing and boots delicately, being careful not to touch a single part of my body, just as my father had ordered him.

I gave him a nod, padding gently across the wooden floor of the entrance way in my sock feet to where my father sat, relaxing in his chair by the fireplace. Respectfully, I bowed before him, the way that had been drilled into my head since I'd been old enough to stand. I could feel his cold blue eyes watching my every movement judgmentally, even as I stood up straight and took a seat next to him. I didn't dare look him in the face.

"Lukas," he grumbled solemnly, his voice unusually calm.

Was he…not angry with me? Pensively, I glanced over at his expression, only to find his eyes filled to the brim not with the usual hatred, but with something close to unease.

"Father?"

I waited patiently as he collected his thoughts, scratching his long, coarse beard and gazing over me as if I weren't there. "Lukas, I have received word from a reliable source that our family is being targeted. An antimonarchy group has sent out several assassins to destroy the royal family and all its members. As a result of this, your ridiculous sneaking out will no longer be tolerated as some childish game. For the safety of you, the Prince of Norway, you will be spending all your time in your bedroom, with meals being the only exception." I opened my mouth in furious protest, but he silenced me with a glare. "There will be no arguments! You will do what I say, or you will be punished!"

I gazed at him evenly, livid under his control. "Yes, Father." The words tasted like poison.

"Another result…" he began, clearing his throat and looking uncertain yet again. "Each member of the family will be receiving a bodyguard. I have personally selected the most elite of the academy and assigned you a guard based on his physical strength and dedication."

Surprised, I looked to the door, hearing hushed speaking. "Father, isn't the academy in Denmark? How am I to understand this man if he speaks Danish?"

He followed my eyes to the door. "It will not be an issue; he is all but fluent in Norwegian. But you will see that for yourself …Mathias! You may enter!"

Curious, I watched as a tall boy entered the room, seemingly confident in himself. His blond hair was spiked up haphazardly, with a strange hat perched at the top, and his smile was incredible. Dressed in all black, his muscles bulged under the tight restraints of his shirt as he bowed to my father, his voice shockingly cheerfully as he said, "Your Majesty," and kissed his hand.

Immediately, I understood my father's apparent concern. This was a teenager; not just that, but one with an obviously agreeable disposition. How could such a man become the heartless bodyguard my father intended for me to have?

"Mathias, you will bow before your prince as well."

Mathias bobbed his head in a clumsy nod, turning to face me. Getting down again, he reached in to take my hand, but I pulled away quickly, unwilling to be touched. Shocked, he stumbled over his lines for just a moment before grinning and whispering, "Hello, My Prince."

I shivered at his tone, unsure whether to be disgusted or aroused by his flirtatious demeanor.

"You may call me Prince Lukas," I told him, hating the way his grin widened. "Nothing else."

My father cleared his throat forcefully, clearly uncomfortable that Mathias existed. "You will absolutely give yourself to my son's desires. You will protect him with your life and you will never leave him for a second, is that clear, child? You have been made a bed beside his so that you may be with him day and night. And," he added, his voice taking on a threatening pitch. "If something happens…it will be your head. Now take him to his room; it is time for him to study his lessons."

Mathias, with another over-the-top flourish, left the room, gently gesturing for me to go ahead of him. I let him lead me to my room, watching as he became abruptly serious, his formerly somewhat childish nature gone as he began his job of protecting me. Even when we made it to my bedroom, he didn't let down his guard, making sure I was in his line of sight every second. Only when I'd sat down at my desk and pulled out a worksheet did he begin to even remotely relax.

"What're you working on?" he asked, sauntering up beside me, his grin back in place.

I ignored him coldly, choosing instead to stare out the frosty panes of my bay window longingly. To be by my pond again, gazing into the cool, frozen ripples….my haven…

"What're you working on?" he asked again, breaking my concentration.

I turned to him. "Please refrain from speaking to me," I answered in annoyance, watching his face fall. "Unless a situation requires it. Other than that, I expect you to be quiet."

He frowned, but muttered, "Yes, Prince Lukas," and entertained himself by playing with something he pulled out of his pocket.

I tried to ignore the pangs of curiosity surging through me as I worked, but in the end, they refused to be sated. I looked over at Mathias; in his hands he held a simple, multicolored ball of string. It amazed me how any man could be so entirely enthralled in something so mundane…yet he seemed to be having a great time, figuring out how to untangle it and then threading it around his fingers. I watched tersely as he continued, until he noticed me staring.

Realizing it would be futile to act as if he hadn't seen me watching, I simply narrowed my eyes and asked, my voice monotone, "Why are you playing with string?"

He grinned, his brow furrowing as he came across a difficult knot. "Well, Prince Lukas, if I can't talk to you, what am I supposed to do?"

Calculating, I spotted his trouble spot in releasing the knot, yet he didn't seem to notice it in the least. He seemed to be just tugging and pulling aimlessly… "You'll never get anywhere like that," I scolded, stealing the ball from him and untangling it. "You can't just pull at it if you want to get the knot out." Satisfied with my work, I handed the yarn back to him and turned back to my math work.

He blinked, dumbfounded. "You can actually see how to untangle knots?"

Without turning, I mumbled, "Yes. And so could you if you weren't a Danish halfwit."

Just as he was about to speak again, a soft knock came from the door. Mathias, being the brave, strong bodyguard he thought he was, offered to get it, in case it might be an assassin.

"What kind of dumbass assassin knocks on my bedroom door before shooting me to death?" I asked, but he went and answered it anyway.

"State your name and purpose," he growled, trying to sound tough.

I swiveled around in my chair to find my younger brother standing at the door, looking indifferently past Mathias to where I sat. "Father says dinner will be at 6:30 tonight and not to be late."

"Father…oh!" Mathias gasped. "You're Prince Erick!"

Erick scowled at him, but said nothing else before turning and strutting away, obviously disturbed that I had let my bodyguard speak for me. He'd never been a fan of owning a staff period, not to mention hiring bodyguards. He wouldn't even let our maids set the table for him.

I rolled my eyes and pretended to focus on my homework. "You forgot I had a younger brother?"

Mathias just chuckled, sitting back down to mess with his yarn ball. "Well maybe if you two actually looked somewhat related, it wouldn't have been so confusing…"

"He takes after our mother. I take after our father. As I was saying, it doesn't take a genius. However, you clearly aren't one. You're quite the simpleton, really."

Getting stuck on another knot, he abandoned the string and came over to stand behind me, staring down at my calculus in amazement. "So….how old are you exactly, Prince Nickolai?"

"As of today, I am sixteen," I answered simply, solving a complex word problem with ease.

"And you're doing THIS?! I'm seventeen and I don't even know what half of the stuff you're writing means!" he said, his light blue eyes widening. Then his shock turned into a shifty, somewhat promiscuous grin. "But that's because you're so incredible, Lukas!"

I could tell he was attempting to butter me up, but it didn't slip past my mind that he'd called me only "Lukas." With malice, I pushed away from my desk. "You will refer to me as PRINCE Lukas! And I do believe I told you I would not be speaking to you unless it was absolutely necessary. You are my bodyguard and are paid to be such; you will not be my friend. I don't do such nonsense."

"I apologize, PRINCE Lukas, but-"

I turned a sharp glare toward him. "No buts. You will speak only when spoken to and I will not be your friend. There's no such thing as a bodyguard and a royal prince becoming friends."

He looked down, my orders weighing on him. "Yes, Prince Lukas…I just wanted to say Happy Birthday."

Surprised, I couldn't help but study Mathias for another minute. "Thank you," I said after a long pause, "but we don't celebrate birthdays in the palace. Despite it being my sixteenth, there will be nothing. At least since my mother passed away."

His eyes softened, taking on a gentle look. "May I speak?"

I nodded curtly.

"What if you and I celebrated it together? I could get the cook to bake you a cake! And we could invite all your friends over to your room and throw a mini-ball type thing!"

His idea surprised me and the image in my mind was amusing at the very least, but…the guests had no faces…"Who would I invite? I have no friends; I've never been outside the castle grounds in my life."

"For real?! You're like some type of Disney princess! Do you sneak out sometimes and sing to the creatures of the forest, too?" he joked, clearly amused.

I, however, failed to see the humor. "No. I don't sing and if I could, I wouldn't waste my time singing to dirty woodland creatures. I might get rabies."

He laughed, as if I had told some sort of joke. "So you aren't up to date on your shots?"

"Humans don't get rabies shots until after contracting the disease," I informed him, crossing my arms.

Lazily, he gave a shrug and stretched out on his bed. "Is that so…Hey, didn't your dad say 6:30 for dinner?" he asked, staring at the grandfather clock in the corner.

I turned to look as well, astonished to see that it was already 6:28. "We can be late. It'll do that man some good to be disobeyed for once," I told Mathias, though inside I was nervous.

Disobeying my father had never ended well before.

Recalling all the other times I'd defied his authority, I decided it was better to not anger him further. Hurriedly, I pulled on my slippers and ran a brush through my hair, glancing back to find Mathias standing by the door, holding it open for me in a gentlemanly fashion. Scoffing in embarrassment, I stalked past him and down the hall, not bothering to look to see if he'd followed. Of course he had.

By the time we actually entered the dining hall, I was five minutes late. Unsurprisingly, my father threw a fit, but for once, it didn't involve physical violence. Possibly because he was trying to act calm and collected in front of our new guards. If he ruined his image of the graceful king, he would have no choice but to end his life, as he'd told me once when I was a young child.

"And then you'd be the king," he'd informed me, petting my hair.

I scowled in his direction now, remembering how cheerfully he'd said such a thing to me. Erick, seeing the seething hatred in my eyes, elbowed me gently and shook his head. He'd never understood my disgust toward Father…clearly he wasn't about to start now. But he'd never been struck by a single person in his life. He didn't know the feeling of a belt ripping across the bare skin of his butt and the shame of having such a humiliating thing done in front of the whole lot of our servants. He didn't realize how painful Father's hand across my face was.

"So, why is that when I set a time for our meal, Erick always shows up perfectly on time, and you do not, Lukas?" father growled, cutting his steak with delicacy. "Are you set upon shaming this family? Perhaps I should make Erick my successor instead?"

I wanted to tell him how much I didn't care, that he could give Erick the kingdom, the monarchy, the title, everything and I wouldn't suffer. In fact, I would be happy for once in my life without this responsibility chaining me to the massive walls of this prison. But I couldn't let him know, couldn't let him sense this weakness. I couldn't let him know that I planned on ditching my title after he passed away.

"No, Father. I apologize for my disobedience."

His eyes hardened as he glared across the table at me, reading my eyes like a novel; it was obvious my true feelings weren't hidden deep enough by the way his wizened face wrinkled up even more in fury. "Yes…Lukas, you are to come visit me after we're through with supper." Noting the way Mathias tensed up, he added, "Alone. Without your bodyguard."

This proved to be too much for the hyperactive idiot. "But, Your Majesty," Mathias said, his voice taking on a persuasive salesman pitch, "I must protect him. It was your orders, My King, that I not leave his side."

"Silence!" Father ordered. "Do not speak directly to me unless addressed. You will remain in Lukas's room until he returns."

Mathias, sighing, gave my father another bow. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Watching him forced to the ground by authority, I couldn't help but grit my teeth, my blood boiling again. Who was he to order MY bodyguard around? As a prince, I was sure I had authority over Matthias as well. So when he got back up from the floor and sat down next to me, I leaned over and, making sure my father wasn't watching, whispered into his ear, "Stand outside the door."

He gave a subtle nod, a promise that he wouldn't completely abandon me to my father's will.

After our dinner ended, I was summoned to my father's quarters, a wing on the other side of the castle where he lived alone since the death of my mother. Standing outside the door, I could hear that he was already conferring with another, so I took a seat on a bench, fiddling my fingers nervously. Would Mathias show, or would he leave me to face the wrath of my father alone? I peered into the dark shadows, trying to decipher his shape, but found nothing but blackness staring back at me. With a nervous shiver, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall.

"And this will do the trick?"

I jumped, astonished that I could hear my father talking so clearly through the wall.

"Majesty, I would not give you anything less than the best," a sinister voice sneered.

"How long will it take to come into effect? A few days?"

Intrigued, I listened closer.

The voice chuckled, sending goosebumps across my arms. "Oh, much less than that. In fact, I have no doubt that he will be writhing in pain within hours."

My father gave a demented, twisted laugh, his malevolence sending my heart flying in panic. "Perfect," he said. "This should teach him a lesson."

"Undoubtedly," the other man agreed.

The door creaked open and, suddenly terrified for my life, I hid in the shadows, clenching my hands into fists.