So. I loved Mirror Mirror but I didn't think there was much about the relationship between the Prince and Renbock. So here you go. I know it's not very good and short but there we are. Reviews are love. And nothing is mine, of course.
He had been summoned. Again. It's not that he was surprised, but he was also not averse to a life of luxury which was certainly provided in Valencia. He just often forgot that his role was as valet, not friend. He had been the Prince's valet and companion since they were both very young and as a result, though not actually directed at or for him, he had had a small taste of the high life. And the Prince did like to spoil him; he knew it was to stop him complaining but he didn't mind.
He walked down the rich, red corridor until he was stopped outside of the Prince's chambers. Checking himself in the mirror on the table outside, he brushed his hair into place and straightened his jacket before knocking on the big oak door and entering.
'Renbock,' the Prince called though he was nowhere to be seen.
'Yes, Sire?' came Charles' curt reply.
'I need you to have some things pressed for me. I looked for them myself as I didn't want to trouble you, but it seems they have not yet come back from the laundry. Would you be a chap and see if they're ready and fetch them?'
As always, Charles was a step ahead; he knew the Prince's favourite choice when it came to riding attire and had already fetched them to avoid the hassle.
'I have them here Sire,' Charles smiled, pleased at himself.
'Oh Renbock you are a treasure,' Prince Alcott called before appearing around the corner of his changing quarters 'what would I do without you?' He turned to face his valet. 'Good heaves what's the matter? You've turned as red as your hair!'
Charles tried to answer but instead his throat made a strange gargle and he had to cough to regain his composure. He had never seen anything so muscular. And smooth. When had this happened? The Prince and always been so bony and lean before.
'Yes. Yes I'm fine. Sorry, Sire. I just, I just had a funny turn.'
'Are you certain? You can retire to your room if you wish?'
'No, no. As I said, I'm quite well.'
'Well that's a relief, these buttons are far to fiddly and for my big hands.' The Prince laughed pointing at the clothes in his valet's hands. Renbock grimaced, trying to imagine other things.
There was a silent pause. The Prince raised his eyebrows expectantly.
'Turn around then and I'll help you into it.'
The Prince got himself into the shirt, and Charles began to pull it tighter so as to do up the buttons, starting at the torso. He was on the last button when his hand lightly brushed the Prince's chest. It was indeed smooth, with the smallest tuft of dark hair. He coughed uncomfortably, shifting from foot to booted foot.
'For God's sake Renbock,' the Prince exclaimed. 'Your normally as pale as snow but now I fear that your face is stealing the colour from your hair. Go to bed and rest! I'll come up and check up on you later.'
'No. I insist. After my ride I'll come up and check on you as I said. Let us hope I won't be too sweaty and dirty as is often the case after riding!'
Reviews are love. A.