Chapter 3 (1/2)

This was the last night he could stay in the palace of the Crown Prince. Tomorrow, he would have to leave the palace.

He had lived in this palace ever since he was born. Ernst was the firstborn child of the King. Of the various women the King had held, Ernst’s mother was the first to become pregnant, and she spent the last month of her pregnancy within the palace. His mother safely gave birth, and a few days later, was sent out of the palace; thus, Ernst had no memories of spending time with his mother. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that all he knew about her was her name.

From the time he was born, he was now 60 years old. That seemed like a long time, didn’t it?

But, if you think about it, the people of Kleber lived for 200 years. If he lived properly, Ernst would have spent less than half of his lifetime in the royal palace. Thinking about it that way, the time he spent in the royal palace was actually short.

He didn’t really have much luggage. A few pieces of clothing and several books. No one would be coming with him. He wasn’t foolish enough to ask if anyone would be following him. No matter who it was, they would rather serve the next King rather than Ernst, who had become just another noble. He had briskly packed away all of his sixty years of life in two small clothing boxes.

In the bathing chamber, as usual, the large man kneeled with his head down to receive Ernst. Even though he knew that this man would be here as always, Ernst had still held some anxiety deep inside his heart somewhere. Today, his dinner had been forgotten.

Every minute of Ernst’s time had been scheduled with things to do. There was his morning walk time, his meal time, his studying time, his bathing time, and his sleeping time. These were the primary duties of the Crown Prince, and unless his body suffered in a way that prevented him from completing his schedule, the schedule was something that couldn’t be broken. If Ernst broke his schedule on a whim, the butlers, maids, and cooks who served him would all be thrown into confusion. Ernst was never allowed to choose what to do with his own time.

But today, though the time for dinner passed, no food ever came. The cooks had misunderstood and thought that Ernst had already left the palace today. For the first time in Ernst’s life, the last meal of the day in the palace didn’t come at a fixed and determined time. It was delightful. To be able to move around without having all of his actions decided for him was delightful. When Ernst finally left the palace, he would be able to eat as he pleased and sleep as he pleased, he thought.

As usual, the servant washed him carefully. He covered Ernst’s shoulders in a plentiful amount of foam, and slowly and gently washed his back. His large hands sometimes rubbed against Ernst’s skin. The hands washed him as if checking each and every part of his spine, and Ernst held his breath as if trying to keep the servant unaware. The thick fingers washed Ernst’s thin neck, and slowly traveled down to his chest. He then washed Ernst’s small nipples, holding them between his index finger and the meat of his thumb.

He touched Ernst’s knee, and Ernst stood. As the servant rubbed Ernst’s soft and white thighs as if gently caressing them, a strange and unfamiliar feeling that Ernst wasn’t sure how to describe – almost ticklish, but not quite – flooded his body.

Was this, perhaps, what something sexual felt like?

Once he understood that despite being a man, he wasn’t able to make ‘it’ stand, he threw himself as if obsessed into reading books, books, and more books. What manner of state was sexual arousal? What kind of state was being erect, and what kinds of feelings did one experience then? He wanted to know more about these feelings that he would never be able to have.

But the understanding he could glean from theories was limited. There were things beyond what could be communicated through words which Ernst knew nothing of.

As the servant washed behind his knees, Ernst gazed down at his head of curly brown hair. Large fingers moved back and forth through the crevice of his small ass. A rough-skinned fingertip slipped into his narrow entrance and gingerly washed there. Ernst felt the tips of his toes spark with an electrifying feeling. So this, too, could feel this way, huh?