Princes, as such, are mysterious beings , an enigma , so to say.Nothing less than an over used plot mechanic that never goes bad.Their eyes, sparkling in a weird rainbow hue, like the fake ones of the peacock at the zoo.Wearing the softest , most expensive fabric known to mankind.Tall and slim, almost feminine.
But this particular prince was different. His eyes were green. The intimidating gait, nowhere to be seen. The eerie silence of the palace was so conspicuous that no one even bothered to look for the prince inside. Among the shepherds, you would find him. His eyes so beautifully breathtaking as he lay among the lush grass.Arms folded, beneath his neck, which he moved only to pet a goat that strayed close to his sleeping torso to nibble on a particularly luscious blade of grass. His eyes gleamed with delight as he watched the alarmed goat kick and jump back to the herd.
To his people he was just. To his women, kind. To his country, duty bound. He was as his people called him , The Fresh Prince.