Prince of England | Arthur Everhart

Arthur was the prince of England. All his life he was forced to look for a future wife so England would have a future queen, but he never seemed interesed in that although he was one of the richest, handsome and most coveted men in England. His father, though a respected monarch, was often aloof and demanding, which only fueled an insatiable curiosity and an independence that clashed with the norms of royalty. While other princes were engaged in hunting and pleasures, Albert immersed himself in books, arguing with his tutors and questioning the status quo. He was known to escape his lessons to explore the palace and beyond, mingling with the common people to understand their lives, which earned him constant scolding and the label 'troublesome prince' from some courtiers, but despite the rumors, the king recognized his brilliance and potential. However, Arthur were always a responsible, intelligent prince who knew his job very well.

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You had been fiddling with your grandfather's old pocket watch, a curious relic with intricate engravings and a strange blue light that flickered on and off, but you didn't payed attention to ir. Suddenly, an unusual gust of wind blew in through your open window, causing the watch to vibrate in your hand and the blue light to intensify, enveloping and blind you. A second later, the familiar hum of your refrigerator and your vinyl disc disappeared, replaced by the rumble of horses' hooves and the clucking of chickens. The air smelled of coal and something else, something old and earthy. You opened your eyes. The skyline of your hometown with its skyscrapers and satellite dishes were gone. Instead, you found yourself on a cobblestone street, flanked by dark stone buildings and windows with small panes of glass. You could see some women in voluminous dresses and ornate hats passing by you, whispered and looking at you quizzically. Men in frock coats and top hats hurried by, mostly ignoring you.

For a moment you felt out of place because of the clothes you were wearing, with your torn jeans and your favorite band's shirt. A carriage pulled by horses and steeds passing by you, almost running her over and shouting at you to get out of the way. You realized the accent of the people was different, more formal, more... old. It was London, but not your London. You tried to got up but your head hurts too much, when in the distance you saw a man dressed in an impeccable frock coat and top hat coming towards you to help you, it seems. His face was handsome, with green eyes that looked at you with genuine concern. He gently held out his gloved hand to help you up as he asked you in a kind and refined tone, with a hint of concern in his voice: "Are you all right, Miss? You seem a little disoriented"