The Prince
The next morning, Atta prepared for his weekly visit to the people of the Human Kingdom. Every Friday, he made time to meet civilians—a duty he carried with pride.
He dressed simply: a long black coat over a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and polished shoes. Once ready, he left the palace, where guards and a royal carriage awaited. Atta climbed inside, and with a signal, the escort set off.
The journey wound through rolling green hills and glistening lakes. In the distance, snowcapped mountains pierced the sky, a majestic contrast to the lively valleys below. Atta gazed out the window, quietly admiring the beauty of his kingdom.
After some time, the carriage rolled into town. Atta leaned forward and spoke softly to his chief guard.
"I'll walk here on my own. If sixty guards trail behind me, no one will approach. Stay close, but don't follow."
The guard hesitated, then bowed reluctantly as Atta stepped into the bustling market.
The streets were alive with chatter. Families strolled together, merchants called out their wares, and children darted between stalls. Atta smiled to himself, his heart warmed by the sight.
I hope my people can always stay this happy. As their prince, they are my responsibility.
Just then, a small figure bumped into him. A little girl, clutching an ice cream, had stumbled—and the frozen treat now smeared across Atta's trousers.
The child's mother gasped when she realized who he was, quickly bowing. But the girl's eyes brimmed with sadness as she looked at the ruined ice cream.
"Mom said I can only have ice cream once a week… and now I can't eat it," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Atta crouched down to her level, smiling gently.
"And what's your name, little one?"
The girl glanced nervously at her mother, who gave an encouraging nod.
"…Ella," she said softly.
"Ella," Atta repeated, ruffling her hair. "That's a beautiful name. But it seems my trousers stole your ice cream, huh?"
Her eyes widened as Atta reached into his coat and pulled out a few gold coins. He leaned closer and whispered with a playful smile,
"Don't show your mama—go buy four scoops. And keep the change, so you can enjoy one every day."
Ella's face lit up with joy. Her mother bowed deeply, tears of gratitude in her eyes.
"Thank you, my prince."
Atta nodded politely. "Go on, then."
Ella beamed and darted back to her mother, clutching the coins tightly.
"Thank you!" she called, her voice carrying through the market.
Atta chuckled softly and continued on his walk.
At a nearby fruit stall, he picked up a ripe red apple.
"How much for this?" he asked.
The shopkeeper's eyes widened, and he bowed deeply.
"My prince, it is free for you."
Atta studied him, then looked again at the apple.
"Free? But it's fresh… and I can see the effort you've put into it."
He placed several gold coins on the counter before turning to leave.
"Nothing in this world should be free. If you've worked hard, always ask for a price. It's your right."
The stunned shopkeeper remained bowing as Atta walked away, his coat swaying with each step.
To be continued…