"Don't look at me like I'm doing something forbidden. I'm just changing my clothes," Prince Meeka explained to his deputy, who stared at him in stunned silence, her eyes and mouth wide open.
Come on, don't exaggerate like that, the prince thought, mentally rolling his eyes. After all, he still wore his trousers. He had only taken off the long impractical gowns.
"So many men bathe in the city's rivers when it's hot. Surely you don't think it's scandalous when you see them without a shirt on," Meeka continued while he got up and went to his closet. The prince halted shortly, contemplating which shirt he should pick.
Truthfully, there wasn't much variety in his everyday clothes.
His shirts all possessed the same fit, as all of them were a few numbers too big for him, which made them look quite baggy when worn. In color, they ranged from a very bright white to a muted beige.
For a moment, Meeka wondered what Einar's private clothes looked like. He doubted they would be as casual as his. Probably they are just as maximalist as his official gowns- and as expensive, too.
Meeka shook his head slightly, trying not to think too much of Einar.
He quickly picked the next best shirt and threw it over his head.
"Better?", he asked, but his deputy's facial expression didn't change.
The prince shrugged. "It's more comfortable for me anyway."
He went back to his bed and let himself fall onto it again. "I already feel like shit, so I figured at least my clothes should feel confortable."
"And by the way, I think it's stupid that we have to cover our faces. So expect me not to be covered when you talk to me privately."
His deputy didn't answer immediately. For a few moments, her mouth only opened and closed as she seemingly struggled to find the right words, before she finally managed to order her thoughts and form a coherent answer. "But- but its tradition! No one should see your face. I- I- I could be killed if someone finds out I know your face!"
Meeka gave her a reassuring glanze. "Relax, no one will know. That's the advantage of having one's chambers underground."
His attempt at loosening the tense atmosphere failed. When he looked at his deputy again, she still seemed uncomfortable. She clearly didn't know if she could look at him or if she should keep her eyes down or if she should turn her head completely away- maybe even her whole body.
Her reaction didn't truly surprise Meeka, he had expected nothing less, since no one in his family showed themselves so freely as he did. If they see what I do, how I'm taking my veil off infront of other people- they would probably disown me right there and then; not that I would complain about it.
Since they all take these traditions way too seriously, and people like my deputy expect the same from me, I should probably just give her time to adjust to my antics.
So the prince decided to ask his deputy if she actually knew the reason behind the tradition of royalty covering themselves completely and sentencing those to death who happen to see their faces.
She hesitantly offered a few possibilities, like royalty being too beautiful or other people's station being too low to gaze upon royalty. But Meeka shook his head at each option.
"It's just another thing- ritual?- to show our relationship with the gods", he admitted. "To demonstrate that they are our ancestors. Of course, we have no real proof for such a claim. So we try to imitate the gods as much as possible- in a way that's our proof of our ancestry. In my opinion, it's no proof, only a cheap imitation, if anything."
The prince wrinkled his eyebrows in disgust.
"It is said no mortal can look a god straight into the eyes. If they do so, they turn mad, experience pain, explode- well, whatever the exact consequences, the human dies. So we pay homage to that by covering our face, and sentencing anyone to death who sees our face. In reality, I think most of my relatives- especially my father- they are just bitter that they don't have the same powers as the gods. So they have to imitate the gods' powers with human means. It's perverse, but whatever."
"In the end, it's a stupid coping mechanism to boost my family's ego. When you truly think about it, it's pathetic.
He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, even though he felt like throwing up- like every time he talked about his family's traditions. "Their practices are evil and perverse. But oh well, that's my family, I guess."
Meeka shook his head in dejection. By now, the prince had half forgotten he was talking to his deputy. He just continued to ramble on.
"Covering your face is already a stupid tradition, but killing your siblings is even more stupid. I mean the whole belief is so flawed: The larger the selection pool, the more likely it is that you will find the most suitable successor. And in order to prepare said successor, they have to kill everyone who stands in their way. Otherwise, they would be seen as weak and incompetent. Only one who can overcome every human emotion and is able to rule with icy judgement and ruthlessness is worthy? Truly, it gives me a headache. If you ask me, there should be no monarchy. Instead, the best-suited should be elected by the public. But what do I know? My family doesn't want to hear it. A thousand times have i braught up the issue, but either they call me a pussy or they throw me out to the room altogether. It even got to a point my father banned me from attending official meetings, because 'my opinions are not appropriate'."
„Wait, so you're not staying out of politics because you want to but because your father commands so?", Meeka's deputy, who seemed to have regained her composure, asked, interrupting his outburst of emotions. The prince flinched as if brought back to reality and only now remembering that he wasn't alone in the room.
"Technically, I'm allowed to do so, if I change my opinion or at least keep my mouth shut. But since I'm not willing to do either, yes, I'm not allowed to attend political gatherings."
Meeka smiled humorlessly while his deputy tried to make sense of it all. In the end, she looked at Meeka with an expression resembling exhaustion. "Well, I guess it's inappropriate that you share all this information with me, my prince. But I appreciate how much you're willing to open up to me. I will not share what you've just told me, nor will I talk about any conversation between us. I respect your privacy fully, I promise." She bowed as if she wanted to underline her words, and Meeka thanked her, though he mentally noted that while she didn't criticize his opinion, she didn't consent to it either. Smart, he thought.
Meeka got up and went to the window-well, since he lived in the basement, he should rather call it a shaft window.
Although the view from it was not nearly as spectacular as that from the palace's normal windows, Meeka still found it interesting. He liked to watch the snails, worms, and spiders that inhabited this place. They were calming. Much more so than seeing all the hectic people of the capital.
And right now, it helped Meeka calm his nerves. Compared to his family, they were peaceful. They were happy living in the small space between his window and the surface. They didn't need more, unlike his family, whose greed knew no bounds.
"Again, I really appreciate how you make me feel more like your friend rather than your servant, but you still haven't answered my original question?"
The curious voice of his deputy rang out.
Meeka furrowed his brows and turned around, facing his deputy again. He tried to remember what she wanted to know.
"What did Einar tell you that got you so flustered, my prince?", she reminded him.
Right, now onto the even more uncomfortable part, Meeka thought.