How To Train Royalty

Six

Erin watched with interest as Alaric sat up straight on the sofa, placed a napkin on his lap, placed the heated up convenience store-bought food on it, and ate like a goddamn prince. It was a sight to see, a grown man with strangely colored hair and eyes in a tunic and old leather boots, eating cheap food with such finesse while pretending to like it.

“Enjoying it, huh?’ Erin asked with a knowing smile, while she stared at him from her bed—which was just three steps away from the sofa.

Alaric swallowed his food, wipes his lips gently and answered, “Yes, it is very good. Thank you.” Erin snickered as she stood up and made her way to the drawer.

“I bet it is,” she muttered, knowing full well that the chicken was dry and the pasta was tasteless. “This guy,” she thought, “is too polite for this city.” She retrieved a change of clothes from the drawer and walked to the bathroom. Before going in, she called out, “Hey,” which made Alaric look in her direction.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Remember the rules. Don’t touch my s**t, got it? I’d know if you touch anything, trust me,” she warned before going in. As soon as she was out of sight, Alaric stopped pretending and spit out the half masticated chicken into a napkin.

“Horrible,” he muttered to himself. It was all simply horrible. The place was small, the food was disgusting, and the host wasn’t at all gracious or anything ladylike. It wasn’t as if he could just leave, either, especially with the strange new world around him that had death machines on wheels. Alaric sighed and placed the container on the sofa. He had no choice but to cling onto this barbaric, foul-mouthed woman who kept laughing at him. If only she knew how much power he actually held in his kingdom, she would completely cower.

Alaric stood up and took his food with him before walking around the poor excuse for a kitchen. Once he found a disposal bin, he threw the container in it, whispering, “Good riddance,” as he did so. He heard the sound of water running inside the bathroom, and decided to look around. The so-called apartment unit was small, but generally clean with very little personal items in it. In fact, aside from the shoes, and the cap and bag hanging on a rack by the door, there were barely any evidence that Erin lived there.

Back in Aurea, his bedroom had paintings, photographs, and books. Even some jewelries or memorabilia from his many travels. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was normal not to do the same in this world, or if the woman had only recently moved into the place.

Alaric looked around the kitchen. There was the machine that heated the food, the one where Erin placed their drinking glasses in, the one called a fridge where she got cold water from. Back at home, they had a similar device, only they called it a cooler, and it was solely for cooling certain desserts. He squatted down and opened the fridge that was half his height, only to see that it contained more containers of food like the one he just had. Aside from those, there was just a jug of water and—taking up more than half the space—cans of what he could only assume were drinks.

He closed the fridge and moved onto the cabinets above the sink. There was barely anything—not even vegetables or fruits or nuts. Nothing. This woman seemed to live on tasteless store-bought food. He wondered if that was a preference or out of convenience. He tutted as he moved back to the sofa.

In front of him and below the AC was what Erin had called a TV—another machine he found to be odd. He stood up and looked behind it. There were quite a number of cords attached to it going to a socket on the wall. Probably to get from an energy source, he reckoned. In Aurea, they had panels that gathered energy from the sun and mills from the wind. Those powered the devices and machinery they used, but he had yet to see a field of panels or mills in this world. It was quite bizarre how different yet somewhat similar this world was to theirs.

He took a small rectangular object on top of the TV and read the little labels on its buttons. “Power,” he read what the red button said before lightly pressing it. To his surprise, the TV lit up, showing moving pictures with loud sounds.

“Dear me,” he muttered in a panic as he pressed the button again, effectively turning it off. He breathed in relief as he placed the device back where he found it.

“Looks like someone's been busy,” Erin said, almost making Alaric jump in surprise. She stood right outside of the bathroom door, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. A damp towel was on her hands, drying her wet long black hair. Alaric quickly averted his eyes. He was definitely no stranger to women, but it seemed quite disrespectful for him to look at someone he had no romantic affiliations with so thinly dressed—and in Aurea, because of the cold weather, clothing that didn’t cover up the shoulders or clavicles was considered as such.

“Figured out how to work the remote, huh, Stone Age Man?” Erin lightly teased as she walked to her bed, causing Alaric to turn the other way.

“Are you—uh, is this—is what you are wearing a standard sleeping attire for your people?” he asked, pretending to be so interested in checking out the AC.

Erin looked at what she was wearing then at Alaric. “Yeah,” she said with a chuckle. “Chill out, dude. I’m not trying to seduce anyone here so relax. Some people even sleep naked.”

“In the nude?” Alaric gasped, turning to look at her, only to realize halfway that he shouldn’t so he ended up doing an awkward complete turn instead.

“Jesus Christ! Chill out!” Erin laughed as she collected a blanket and a pillow in her arms.

“Here, take this. You can sleep on the sofa,” she said, walking up to Alaric who was forced to look her way. “Do you snore?”

Alaric took the items from her, keeping his eyes from looking below her nose. It was probably because she wasn’t wearing a cap or had her hair tied back anymore, but her face seemed to look much kinder. Her eyes, he noticed, were of a dark brown—almost black, if it weren’t for the light hitting them—much like the ones that the common folk had in their land.

“I shouldn’t think so,” he answered.

“Do you talk in your sleep? Or wake up in the middle of the night to pee?”

He shook his head, albeit confused about the line of questioning.

“Good,” Erin said, then raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, man, the constant eye contact is creepy so stop being weirded out. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen a “lady's” skin before.”

“Of course, I have,” Alaric flatly answered, but still kept his eyes on Erin's as if he would turn to stone if he didn’t.

Erin rolled her eyes and sighed, then finally walked away. “You’re so weird,” she muttered, pulling the end of the foldable room divider to make a partition between the bed and the “living room.”

Alaric breathed out in relief and placed the pillow and blanket on the sofa. Erin turned the lights off, but didn’t close the curtains to let the moonlight illuminate the room.

“Don’t wake me up unless you’re dying or dead, got it?” he heard her say from behind the divider.

“I understand,” he answered, lying on the sofa. From where he laid, he could only see the bottom third of the bed where Erin's feet shifted under the covers. He stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, bent his knees so he would fit in the sofa, and prepared himself for an uncomfortable night’s sleep—preferably the last he would ever have to suffer through in this crazy, crazy world.