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“What about that one?” Cyril pointed at a triple-layered chocolate cake; the lowest layer was dark chocolate, then milk, and finally white. In the middle, three raspberries rested together, adorned with a little tuft of cream. Kids liked chocolate, right? And Rie had been a chocolate pocky stick, so surely he should like chocolate cake.

“No.” Rie gave a decisive shake of his head and pouted at Cyril, looking around the bakery critically. They’d been in there for half an hour already, Rie being his usual imperious self and refusing to settle for anything less than perfection. “That’s not fancy enough. Princes need fancy cakes! I want one with a crown, and gold flakes, and gold and silver balls. And it shouldn’t be that silly mousse stuff either.”

Cyril sighed. His original suggestion of having a custom cake be made had been accepted gleefully by Rie – until the baker told Rie that it would take at least two hours. The impatient pocky boy had then instantly announced that princes never had to wait for anything and two hours was completely unacceptable. Now, instead, Rie looked like he was going to take two hours checking out every cake in the shop until he found one that he wanted.

About to suggest that they ask for a custom cake and Cyril could take Rie out to a movie while it was made, Cyril instead discovered that Rie was missing.

Again.

He didn’t panic, by now used to his charge wandering off and expecting Cyril to magically find him, but he did give the baker an apologetic look, “I am very sorry about this. He’s very fussy.”

The woman smiled warmly at him, “It’s not a bit of trouble. Children are so cute at that age, don’t you think?”

She was rather puzzled as to the relationship between the teenager and the child. She would’ve normally assumed they were brothers but the two looked nothing alike. And she could’ve sworn that the little one had fangs.

“Only if you don’t have to take care of them.” Cyril replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets and feeling horribly out of place. Left to his own devices, he’d just buy cakes from the supermarket. These exclusive boutiques depressed him horribly, especially since Rie seemed to be only content with food from them.

Rie had actually gone outside, having spotted another child peering in and thinking that they might fare better for having a third opinion.

“You!” He greeted the other boy imperiously, tilting his head up so that the light shone more brightly off his gold circlet, “Which cake do you think is the best?”

Now, why hadn't Rie thought of that? Looking at the towering wedding cake, he had to admit that it was certainly fancy enough to qualify. It had multiple tiers, each bedecked with glittering ribbons and roses, and on top, two figures handpainted and made of china instead of the more common plastic.

"It is pretty." He gave the stranger that, looking at him for a moment instead of the cake, "But I need a royal cake. I'm a prince, you see. Just a normal wedding cake isn't good enough for me! It has to have crowns, and gold and silver balls, and maybe the two people on top could go away and be replaced by a dragon."

The other boy looked around his age, maybe. Rie had never seen anyone so pale before. Even Cyril had bright blue eyes; this boy was white and white and white, like a snow baby. It contrasted starkly with Rie's bright eyes and golden skin. At the moment, his horns were hidden by a little newsboy cap of black velvet, and his wings were trapped under his black jacket. Cyril insisted on Rie looking as normal as possible when going out.

That didn't do anything about the little fangs that flashed whenever he spoke, though, or the gold circlet that he refused to take off.

Remembering Cyril's insistence on manners, Rie held out a hand to the stranger regally, palm turned down. "You may kiss my hand and introduce yourself."

His fingers were bare of any rings, but his nails were a little longer than standard for a boy, filed into sharp tips. Perfect for scratching at anyone who got in his way. Rie wasn't some spoiled sissy of a prince, after all! He could take care of himself and his poor, helpless Guardian.

"Of course really. Cannot you see my crown?" Rie pointed up at his golden circlet. It was polished to a bright shine, a thin band of gold that had no ornamentation whatsoever but sat high on his brow and kept his hair from falling into his eyes. "It's actually just a circlet since I'm only a prince at the moment but once I get my kingdom back, I'll be a king and then it'll be a proper crown. With jewels and everything."

It pleased him that Ai greeted him with the proper respect. Rie tilted his little chin up and favored Ai with a regal smile of approval, "Yes, you can bow. And you may address me as Prince Rie, or Prince Rie of Arkonsel if you're introducing me to someone."

Ai was an unusual name to him. Rie, pronounced 'ree' to rhyme with 'bee' was short enough that it wasn't the single-syllable that was strange, but the fact that it sounded like a word in itself. He was sure that if Ai had a title, he would've introduced himself with it, but Rie decided to graciously overlook the fact that he was talking to a peasant boy. After all, without peasants, who would get stuff done for him? His Guardian was a peasant without a title but plenty of money and Rie planned to knight him later. Nobody should have that much money without being a noble, even if they were the child of a merchant family.

Maybe he could knight Ai too, if Ai kept behaving well.

Pleased with that thought, he gestured commandingly at the cake shop, "Come. You will escort me in and help me choose a cake, Ai."

Though located on a highly fashionable street, the boutique was quite large, catering mostly to high fashion parties, corporate events and weddings. Rie had been offered a drink and little slices of cake to taste as soon as he'd entered with Cyril, and there were little tables with old-fashioned padded chairs for the customers to sit at and sample the cakes. Ai could taste the cakes too to figure out what he thought was good.

Maybe Rie could name Ai his Royal Cake Chooser!

"I wanted a cake that was here so that I wouldn't have to wait around." Rie pouted, heading back into the store, confident that Ai would follow after him. He was a prince! Of course people would do whatever he wanted. Rie didn't notice if Ai was spending too much time staring at him. Whenever people saw his wings or antlers, they always stared at him and even though Cyril had made him cover them both up today, Rie still could feel them. The wings were like two extra arms, fluttering whenever he grew agitated, and the horns were like teeth. He could feel them as solid presences on top of his head, even with hair wrapped around him to conceal them.

"They gave us slices of cake to taste. So you'll have to taste them all too." Finding the delicate table with a single leg and marble-covered top, Rie scrambled up and pointed to the empty chair that Cyril had formerly occupied. "Here. You can sit there."

A woman in a pink apron bustled over with a smile, Cyril mere steps behind her. Before she could ask them what they wanted, Cyril started to scold Rie, or at least do his best imitation of it, "Rie! Where did you go? You can't just wander off like that."

"I wanted to get another opinion because you're useless at this." Rie explained calmly, and then gestured at Ai loftily, "That's Ai. He's my new official Cake Chooser."

Cyril looked at the white-haired boy, then back at his own charge, "..." Great. Rie had done it again. Choosing to leave Rie out of the conversation for the moment, he turned his attention to Ai, voice very gentle, "It's nice to meet you, Ai. But where are your parents? I'm sure they must be worried about you."

In the interests of diplomacy, the baker took a few steps back. She could get another tray of samples ready while her client dealt with his stubborn little brother.

"Of course! It can't just look good. It must taste good too. A prince would never eat something of substandard quality." Rie paused for a moment to make sure he'd pronounced 'substandard' correctly. He mouthed the word to himself, decided he'd got it right, then clapped his hands together, "Baker-lady! Cake samples, please."

The baker had already prepared a tray of small slices of cake, each delicately iced and placed on a rectangular saucer of the type that appetizers arrived on in Japanese restaurants. Now, she brought it over with a smile, setting it down on the table, and offered them each a little silver spoon. "Don't forget to clear your palate with water between slices, so that you'll know which kind you like best."

She poured out a glass of water for each of the two boys, then bowed and took her leave. Each cake slice had a piece of paper trapped under its dish that listed its type so that the boys could save whichever ones they liked best. Rie helped himself to a plate of swirled chocolate and green cake with a thin chocolate ganache coating and green piped leaves, and waited for Ai to take a slice before he tasted his.

Cyril smiled at Ai, thinking the blush was just because the boy was shy around strangers, "Enjoy the cake, Ai. If you don't mind, I'll go talk to your guardian."

Guardian, hm? Maybe the boy's parents were dead. Poor little orphan. It didn't occur to Cyril that Ai could also be a Pocky Boy. That would just be too big a coincidence.

Going over to the lady, he smiled at her a little shyly and apologized, "I'm sorry about Rie, ma'am. He gets very easily carried away and forgets that not everyone wants to get dragged into his games."