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"Just tell them I'm sick! I got food poisoning and can't leave my chambers! Or... Or I got kidnapped! I'll disappear for a few hours, then return and tell everyone that I beat up all the bandits! What do you think, Feng Xi- Ouch!"
"I told you to stop moving!" Mu Qing promptly removed the sewing pin from Xie Lian's leg, cursing under his breath. "And we're not covering for you! You ran away from the last banquet too! They're going to suspect that you're avoiding them on purpose!"
"Well, last time I was simply too busy! But today... Ah..." The crown Prince of Xianle childishly pouted as he looked at his other friend with perfectly trained puppy eyes. "Feng Xin.. Please."
The guard only sighed as he lifted his gaze from his blade. He's been cleaning and polishing it out of boredom for almost two hours now. Really, did the fittings have to take so damn long?! "Apologies, your Highness, but Mu Qing is right. You can't avoid those meetings forever... Besides, I've met the lady myself. She seems nice. And the matchmaker said your birthcharts align well. Maybe you'll really like her?"
Xie Lian stomped his foot lightly, fixing some beads that were starting to painfully dig into his chest. Those robes were so uncomfortable, he couldn't wait to change into something less constricting. "I don't want to like her! I want to go back to the temple and focus on my training!" He continued his theatrics as he sat on the bed and popped a few stitches in his attire, causing Mu Qing to curse even more. "I already told you, the cultivation path I chose is against marriage!" He blushed, averting his gaze. "And... Other things it entails!"
Mu Qing rolled his eyes as he packed his sewing kit. Trying to fix those robes now was useless anyway, with Xie Lian flailing so wildly. "As if his majesty would ever agree to this... The kingdom expects an heir, you know?"
"I could adopt!"
"This bloodline is centuries old and you're an only child. You can't just end it..."
"...I also have a cousin!"
The two exchanged exasperated looks. Then, Feng Xin rubbed his temple. "Your Highness... Do you really think Qi Rong is a viable candidate?"
The Prince sighed as he scratched his head in deep thought. Just imagining Qi Rong on the throne made him shudder. "Maybe... He can provide the heir...?"
"Ooor..." Mu Qing said, growing more and more agitated. "Just go to the damn banquet, make the girl hate you, and leave."
Feng Xin wanted to correct him and say that hating Xie Lian was physically impossible, but he held his tongue.
The prince flailed his arms in wild gesticulation, the glass beads on his sleeves clinking against each other quite dangerously. Mu Qing prayed they wouldn't shatter. Replacing them would be a drag. "I don't even know how to talk to girls! How am I supposed to make her hate me?"
Mu Qing narrowed his eyes, a devious idea already sprouting in his mind. "Spill something on her dress 'by accident'."
"I don't want to spill anything on a nice lady's dress! That's mean!"
"Then-! What the hell do you expect us to do?! You dispute every solution we provide!"
Xie Lian batted his eyelashes at him, giving him the best puppy look he could muster up. They were well aware of what he was expecting from them. But they were so used to those types of scenarios they simply refused to budge.
Well, Mu Qing did anyway. Feng Xin looked close to snapping, already clearing his throat to agree to his prince's demands. Mu Qing was so done with their shit. Dumbass Prince and his dumbass guard dog.
Ignoring his pleading looks, he simply dragged Feng Xin out of the room as he berated Xie Lian. "I'll be back soon, we will finish that robe, and then you're going to impress the lady. Like a good prince."
Before Xie Lian could protest, he slammed the door.
The Prince fell to his back, groaning on the bed.
The two attendants leaned against the wall of the corridor, sighing deeply.
Mu Qing rubbed his temples in exasperation. "Horse or sword?"
"That's too obvious. He will flee on his feet. Probably to the city."
"Of course he will. I just hope he changes before he does. I don't want to stitch those fucking robes up again... "
Feng Xin scoffed softly. His foul language has been slowly rubbing off on his friend. He silently prayed the Prince wouldn't fall into his steps as well.