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There was one thing that even Marco knew, the King is untouchable. It was that simple. No one, absolutely no one, could be as great as he was, is, and ever will be. King Valentino Rossi is the greatest King of all time. That's a fact, that even little Marco knew, without any school.
The 5 year old boy also knew that he would never ever meet the King. He was just a little peasant boy, an orphan child, that was made to work at the Royal Palace. It really didn't matter if he worked at the Palace, the chances were basically zero that he would even see the King. All he did was help the maids get the heavy bags of flour, help clean the kitchens, and sometimes help the lower ranking maids with the peeling of potatoes. Nothing grand at all, but still better than living on the streets.
“What are you doing there? We aren't paying you for being lazy, go and bring this to the stables.” A very angry cook shouted at Marco, as he was about to sit down for a minute. His body hurt, the bags of flour were very heavy for him, and his stomach made loud hungry noises. Because he needed a second to process the yelling, the cook got even more angry. He hit him on the back of his head. “Are you deaf? I SAID GO AND BRING THIS TO THE STABLE MASTER!” The angry cook put a basket in front of Marco, and the young boy hurried to get away. As he was out of the kitchen, he heard the cook say, “Useless, that boy is so useless.”
That was something that Marco heard nearly every day, multiple times. A lot of people thought he was very useless. The angry cook, the maids, the older boys and the man with whom he shared a room. He was useless, stupid, slow and lazy. It made him miss his parents. They never called him that, they called him their precious boy. But it's not like he would see them ever again. They are dead, they died because of a sickness. He is completely alone now.
Feeling extra sad and hurt now, Marco made his way to the stables with the basket. He could smell that there was something good inside. Definitely freshly cooked food. It smelled so good, and made Marco even more hungry, and the growl of his stomach got louder. But he knew that if he dared to touch that food he would be severely punished.
Like the very brave boy he was, he went to the stables, ignoring the hunger and the hurt. The horses there were very big and imposing. While they were very pretty, he was also a bit scared of them. The horses looked down at him, sometimes made noises and little Marco didn't know if they were friendly noises, or mean noises. One of the horses moved its head near Marco, which made him jump to the side out of fear. “He can't get out of his box, don't be scared.” A kind voice said.
Marco looked at the source of the voice, it was a boy, most likely a few years older than him. The boy was dressed in a clean linen shirt, and brown, good fitting, trousers. This meant that he had a way higher standing than Marco. Which meant Marco needed to show respect, so he bowed slightly. “That's awkward, don't do that again.” The boy said. “I’m Pecco by the way, what's your name? I have never seen you here before.” Pecco asked.
Marco gulped, “I’m Marco, normally I work in the kitchens. But I'm supposed to deliver this basket to the stable master." Pecco looked at him bewildered, as if Marco had just grown a third arm. “Work? But you are a child, why are you working? You have to go to school, and play. How can you do that when you are working?”
It nearly made Marco laugh, but he could contain himself. It would be very rude if he would do that, Pecco is obviously a higher ranking member of the court. “I don't go to school, I don't have time to play. I need to work, so I can get food.”
“Don't your parents give you food?” Pecco was definitely a son of a high official. Higher than the cook at the kitchens, higher than the stable master, probably a son of the chief of guards. School, playing, parents and food were obviously for privileged children. Marco might be young, but he already knew that.
“I don't have parents anymore.” Marco said quietly. Now that made Pecco look a little guilty, “Oh, I’m sorry.” It's not like it's his fault, so Marco didn't quite get why he was saying sorry. In general, he didn't understand why people kept telling him ‘sorry’. It's not their fault, it's the fault of the sickness that took them away from him. The sickness should be sorry.
“I’ve got an idea. I help you deliver that basket, and then the both of us can play, yes?” Pecco sounded so excited, Marco really hated that he had to burst his bubble. “No, I can't. I have to work, if I'm not immediately back in the kitchens, the cook will be mad at me.” No one wanted the cook to be mad. He was scary, even scarier than those horses. He was mean, and would hit you with his wooden spoons, sometimes even until you bleed. Then he would make you clean up the mess. And Marco didn't want to bleed, or clean, or hurt more.
“I will tell him to let you play, he has to listen to me. I’ll just tell the stable master to say to the cook that you have to play with me, I demanded it.” Marco was really sceptical of this plan. He understood that Pecco was someone from high status, but giving the stable master orders, or even the cook, sounded really scary for him. But then again, if he could just do that, Marco had to play with Pecco. He can't upset a son from a high ranking official.
“Okay, if you say so. But you are sure the cook will not be mad?” He had to check, he really needed to know that the cook wasn't going to be angry with him. Well, even more angry with him than he normally was. Pecco shook his head, “No, I’ll tell him not to.”
Because it was just that easy for Pecco. He can tell the cook to not be angry. Marco sighed and nodded. Together they delivered the basket to the stable master, who gave it immediately back to Pecco. “Here is your food, Young Master. Why didn't the servant give you the basket immediately? Do I need to punish him?” Oh, Marco did not like this. Not at all. “No, we didn't know it was for me. Marco only knew it was supposed to be for the stable master. Also, I want you to tell the cook that Marco will be occupied. He has to play with me.” Pecco said, his voice full of authority. Marco could only look down to the ground, but he felt the stares of the stable master on him.
“But Young Master, don't you want someone from a higher standing to play with you? Someone more appropriate? I can fetch someone.” The stable master sounded nervous. “No. I want to play with Marco! And the cook isn't allowed to get mad at him for that.” Pecco now sounded a little frustrated, he stomped his foot on the ground. “Of course, of course. I’ll send a servant to inform the cook.”
The two boys sat together on a green field. Pecco was busy eating some of the food from the basket. “Aren't you hungry too? You can have some of my food. It feels weird to be the only one eating.”
With big eyes the younger boy looked up to Pecco. “Really? I’m allowed to eat something?” The last time he had eaten something was yesterday morning, the older boys at his room had stolen his rations again, so that he couldn't eat yesterday evening, or this morning. It happens regularly, it doesn't matter how good Marco hides his food, they always find it anyway. “Of course, it's more than enough for both of us.”
Marco looked in the basket and found a little cake. He took that out and gave one last look to the older boy, who just gave him a nod. Then he started to eat the small cake. An explosion of taste happened in his mouth. So sweet, so tasty, definitely the best thing he had ever eaten in his entire short life. “Wow, so good.” He mumbled.
After they were done with snacking, they decided to play hide and seek. And Marco had actually won a few rounds. Pecco had complained that it was because he is smaller, so he can hide better in the grass and behind trees.
Sadly though, at some point a servant came to fetch Pecco for his riding lessons. Back in the stables, Pecco said something to the stable master, something that Marco couldn't believe. “I want to play with Marco again. I want him here again tomorrow. I need to win against him in hide and seek.” The stable master nodded, “Yes, of course. The servant boy will be here again tomorrow.”
It felt like a dream, Pecco wanted to play with him again. Those few hours they had spent together felt like a lifetime for Marco. He hadn't had that much fun since his parents had died. Normally he needed to peel potatoes, or clean vegetables at this time. But not today, seemingly also not tomorrow. He can only hope that the cook and the maids weren't too mad and angry with him.
Back in the kitchens, everything was normal again. He helped clean the dishes, he helped prepare some stuff for tomorrow morning. The maids ordered him around, the cook yelled. Nothing out of the ordinary.
However, no one said something about his missing presence today. Only when everyone was about to retire to bed late in the evening, the cook ordered Marco to stay for a bit more. “Tomorrow you are going to the stables again. The stable master has already informed me about your little adventure. You will be on your best behavior, you will be clean, you will not talk bad about me or anymore here. And, most importantly, you will be grateful that I don't punish you for today. Understood?”
The young boy nodded, “Yes, I understand.”
With that Marco retired to his room.
The next day, right before he was supposed to leave for the stables, the cook ordered him to clean himself up. With a bucket of cold water, Marco did exactly that. He cleaned himself with ice cold water, and went to the stables shivering. Luckily it wasn't that cold today, and with a little bit of sun he warmed up quickly enough.
“Marco!” Pecco exclaimed excitedly. “I found some new hiding spots, so this time I’m gonna win!” Marco smiled at the older boy, “Let's see.”
In the end, Pecco won a single round of Hide and Seek. The others were all won by Marco.
“Tomorrow we're going to play something different. I’m done with Hide and Seek.” Pecco huffed as they went back to the stables together.
The next day, Marco went back to the stables. At the order of the cook, he brought another basket with him. It was for Pecco again, maybe if Pecco was nice again he also would be allowed to eat.
Just like the day before, Pecco was waiting for him. “We are going to play with the ball.” The older boy informed him.
After Marco had spent the rest of the day running around with Pecco on the fields, eating tiny cakes and bread, he was exhausted. But sadly, the cook was extra annoyed today, and he made him sweep the entire kitchen on his own. It took him hours, until it was well past midnight.
It went on like this for quite some time. In the morning Marco had to work in the kitchens, in the afternoon he got to play with Pecco, and in the evening he had to clean the kitchens on his own. He was pretty tired, he really wanted to sleep a little more, and the only source of food he got recently was the food that Pecco shared with him. He knew he wasn't allowed to complain, the cook would get very angry and he would probably not be able to play with Pecco anymore. He can't disappoint Pecco. Pecco is his best friend. Well, he is his only friend. So there was no sleeping, and no food then.
One day, Pecco brought with him a surprise. “Ciao Marco, today we are going to play with my older brother Franky. Papa said I had to bring him, because he is annoying.”
The other boy clearly didn't like that he was called annoying. “I’m not annoying. Papa just said that you need to share your friends, and I was bored.” Pecco shrugged, “Whatever.”
Franky turned out to be fine. He explained a lot of stuff about the animals around them to Marco. Which in return annoyed Pecco, because he hadn't had the entire attention of Marco on him. That nearly sent Marco in a panic attack, he can't have the older boy angry with him. If Pecco would get angry with him, the cook would know, and if the cook knew, he would be done for.
Luckily Franky had it under control. He made both of them feel included.
The weather had been bad for days. It has gotten colder, and it started to rain a lot. Marco didn't feel so good, but he couldn't get sick. Sickness meant no food, no food means death. Well, sickness in general means death for him. So he can't be sick. He can't die, he wants to be able to play more with Pecco, and even with Franky.
“No playing at the stables today, the weather is too bad. They asked me to send you to the library, so you have to be extra clean today. I don't want you to dirty the floors there!” The cook said angrily, and put a bucket of water in front of little Marco. “Put on something nicer, and wash yourself!”
Marco sighed, he doesn't have that many clothes. Especially not something nice enough for a library. But that was a problem for later. He washed himself with the cold water, then looked in the sack he had for some clothes. In his little sack was everything he owned. Most of the stuff in there had already been stolen by other boys. But he did still have some stuff in there. He found a clean shirt and trousers, and put them on.
One of the maids waited for him, he had never been to the real palace before. Only the kitchens, the pantry, and the stables. So this was exciting for little Marco. Too bad that he didn't feel good at all. His head was really dizzy, his legs and arms felt heavy, and he was out of breath.
The maid gave him to a different, more fancy dressed maid. “That's the boy? Oh dear Lord, he looks like a homeless person.” The new Maid said. Marco tried to ignore her, deep down he knew that it was true. Next to Pecco and Franky he looked very filthy.
The new maid led him to the library, where Pecco and Franky were already waiting for him. “Marco!” Pecco ran to hug him, and accidentally tipped both of them over. Marco didn't have a chance to stay standing, his muscles felt way too weak to support the hug-attack from his friend. “Oh, sorry.” Pecco mumbled and helped him up again.
The three of them sat down in a corner of the library. It was a cushioned seating bench and it was so soft, Marco hadn't felt anything like that ever. Nothing his parents had ever owned was this soft. Sleeping on this bench would be a dream. In the room with the others, he only had a blanket and hay to protect him from the hard, cold stone floor. Maybe if he could close his eyes just for a single second, he would feel better. In the distance he heard someone shout his name.
“Marco? Marco? Franky, I think something is wrong with him.”
He felt a light touch in his forehead, and then even more words that didn't make any sense to him. “Shit, he is burning up, he has a fever. Stay with him, I’m going to get Papa, he knows what to do.”
“Marco, please, please, please open your eyes.”
No, Marco didn't want that. He wanted to sleep on this soft bench.
Valentino didn't know what happened when he saw his oldest child running to him, shouting his name. “Papa! Papa fast, something is wrong with Marco.” Franco cried. Valentino needed a moment to understand who Marco was again. Then he remembered the boy that was playing with Francesco and Franco. The boy that had made Francesco come out of his shell, and finally find someone to play with.
“What's wrong with him?” Valentino asked his son. “He is in the library and I think he has a fever, and he can't open his eyes, and he is so pale, and-” Before the 10 year old boy could finish his sentence, Valentino shouted at one of his servants, “Get a doctor to the library, immediately!”
He wasn't going to leave that boy sick, especially since the boy had worked miracles on Francesco. His youngest finally had started to open up again, to talk, to become more lively again.
“Let's go to the library.” He told his son, took his hand and walked away. Leaving his servants to scramble behind him.
In the library he heard a crying Francesco. “Papa, I don't want him to die.” Valentino gave the boy a reassuring smile, “The doctor is coming, I promise you he will get the best care. He isn't going to die.” Then he looked at the unconscious boy, laying next to his crying son. He looked really sick, way too thin, and also quite young. “Where are his parents? We need to inform them that their son is sick.” He asked his two sons. But Francesco only shook his head, “They are dead. Marco works in the kitchens.”
Oh, now this explained the way this boy looked. No parent would let their child go and play looking that sick. Before he could say anything about that, a doctor and a nurse came rushing to them. The both of them bowed deep to Valentino and his sons, “Your highness, how can I help you?” The doctor asked. “The boy, Marco, he is sick.” He pointed to the sleeping boy on the bench.
The doctor went straight to work. “He is burning up, he has a pretty high fever. I need to bring him to the hospital.” Francesco looked up to his father, “Is he going to survive?”
“I’ll give my best, your majesty. He shall survive this fever.” The doctor said, picked the boy up, and rushed away with the nurse.
“I hope Marco is going to be better soon. He is like a little brother to me, you know, he is really funny. I just hope the cook will not be too mad at him for being sick. Marco always tells me how angry the cook gets when he does something wrong.” Francesco whispers, as he takes Valentino’s hand.
“How about we go and look at the new puppies that some of the guard dogs had. I’ve heard that they're really cute. Maybe this will cheer you up a bit.” He really hopes that this will work, Valentino doesn't want two sad kids right now. But puppies make everything better, right?
After he had put his sons to bed, he went to the palace hospital to check up on the boy.
A nurse immediately rushed to him when she saw him. “My King, how can we help you?” She said, after she bowed to him. “I want to see Marco, and make sure that he is treated well for his sickness.”
The nurses nodded, and led him to the bed of the small boy. “His fever went down a bit, he woke up and drank some water and took his medicine. The doctor said that he is going to be better, but he needs a lot of rest, and good food. He is very malnourished.” She told him, as they both stood in front of the bed.
“Good, I want him up and well again. Treat him with the best care, and give him food, so that he can grow strong. Also, tell the doctor that I want to talk to him tomorrow morning.” The nurses nodded again and rushed away to tell the doctor what the King had said.
Now alone at the bed of the boy, Valentino grimaced. Marco was so small, he looked so pale and thin. He wondered if a breeze would throw him over his feet, he definitely looked like it.
Then his mind went back to something Francesco had said. Like a brother. Marco was like a brother to him, and most likely to Franco too.
Like a brother. Marco doesn't have any family left. Valentino had checked with the head of servants of the kitchens earlier. The boy was completely alone in the world.
Like a brother.
Valentino sighed, “You are lucky that Francesco likes you, and that you look cute.”
Maybe he needs another son. One more couldn't hurt, right?
Marco woke up feeling disorientated. He didn't know where he was, but he knew that he slept way too long. The sun was already up, he should have been at the kitchens already. When he tried to get up, someone gently pressed him down into the soft mattress again.
That was weird, he didn't have a mattress.
“Don't get up, Young Master. Please stay in bed, the doctors said that you are too weak for that.” A soft voice said. Young Master. The voice must be talking to Pecco. He was no Young Master. He tried to get up again, the sun was too bright, he couldn't see, so he closed his eyes again. “No, lay back down Marco. Please sleep some more.” Someone else said.
Yes, sleeping some more sounded good to him.
The next time he woke up again, he opened his eyes to someone sitting next to the bed he was laying on. “Marco, you are awake!” It was Pecco. A very excited Pecco. “We were all so worried about you. You got sick, but now you are better again. The doctors healed you.”
He got sick, yes, he remembers that. But no memory of doctors treating him. “Papa said that you will stay with us from now on. You don't have to go to the kitchens and work anymore. Papa allowed me to decorate your room, you're gonna love it.”
That was too much information for his still foggy brain. What did Pecco mean with staying with him, and room, and not work? It made zero sense to Marco.
“My Prince, please don't overwhelm the Young Master, he needs to rest a bit more.” Said a person dressed in white. Definitely a doctor. But who was ‘My Prince’? Was one of the Prince's here? Marco didn't see anyone else here. Only Pecco and the doctor.
Oh. Oh shit. Something in Marco's brain just clicked. The Prince was Pecco. Pecco is the Prince of Italy, the son of the King. “Please, Young Master, calm down. Everything is fine, you are good now. Only a little more resting for you and then you can run around with the Prince again.”
That didn't calm him down at all. “Marco, it's okay, everything is fine, I promise you. You don't have to worry about anything anymore.” Pecco tried his best to calm his new little brother down. It helped a bit when he took the younger boy's hand and gently pressed it. “Everything will be fine.”
Yeah, Marco hopes so. He really hopes that the trouble he is in will not be too bad in the end.
After a few more days at the hospital, Marco was brought to his own room. The words sounded ridiculous to him. His own room. Two weeks ago he had slept in a room with more than 20 boys and men. Now he has his own room, which was bigger than the room he had to share. The bed was even softer than the hospital bed. He didn't know that something like that was possible.
The entire day had been so extremely overwhelming. First, there was his move to that new room, which was his alone. Second, the fact that a tailor came to him and measured him for new clothes. Third, he had no clue how to address Pecco and Franky now. Is it Your Majesty? Your Highness? My Prince? Your Royal Highness? The both of them kept telling him to just talk to them normally, but it felt somewhat wrong. Fourth, the King.
In a few minutes he was supposed to have dinner with Pecco, Franky and their father. Only that their father was the King. King Valentino.
“Don't be nervous, trust me, Papa is really nice. You are his kid now too.” Pecco said, as he was leading Marco to the Dining Hall.
When they arrived the Dining Hall was still empty, only Franky was there. “Look, this is your new chair, Papa has told the servants to bring it in just for you.” Pecco pointed to a chair. The chair was exactly like the other three, who Marco assumed belonged to the Royal Family. Those chairs looked more sturdy, and were yellow. All the other chairs didn't look so grand, and they weren't yellow.
Marco went to the chair, and sat down. Nervously looking down to his feet that were hanging in the air. Pecco was sitting next to him, and on the other side was Franky. The chair on the head of the table was obviously reserved for the King.
The King he would soon meet.
Marco’s hands started to shake a bit. The door to the dining hall opened, and a man in a suit stepped in. The King.
King Valentino.
Shit.
Marco wanted to get up to bow to him. To show respect to the King. But Pecco took his hand, and shook his head. He mouthed, “Sit down.” Marco, however, didn't want to sit down. He didn't want to get in trouble. He didn't want to be punished. The punishment for disrespecting the King was brutal. Franky and Pecco are the sons of the King, the princes, they didn't need to show the respect like Marco needed.
The boy got up from the chair and bowed to the King. “Good evening your Highness. Thank you for allowing me to be here.” King Valentino raised an eyebrow, “Get up, Marco. Please sit down again. Also, you don't need to address me like that, okay? Valentino is just good enough.” Marco looked up, nodded and hurried back to the chair.
When the King sat down on his seat, the servants started to bring in the food. Some of them looked very familiar to Marco. He had seen them in the Kitchens, in hallways and in the shared room. Those servants starred and Marco might be often a little slow, but he knew that those starres weren't meant nicely.
Food was placed in front of them, he got a broth with some vegetables in it. Way better than anything he ever had in the kitchens. “Why does Marco only get some broth?” Pecco asked. “Because the doctors said that we can't give him something too sweet, or something with too much fat. His stomach can't handle that.” The King explained to his son. But Marco was more than happy with the broth. It smelled so good.
“Broth is boring.” Pecco said, as he started to eat his own food. It looked way more creamy than Marco's.
After dinner, the King told him to follow him. The both of them went to something that looked like a living room. “Sit down Marco.” King Valentino gestured to the big sofas in the room. Nervously Marco did just that. He sat down on the expansive looking sofa, and waited for what was to come. The King sat down next to him. “You know, I want to thank you first. Because of you Francesco started to be more open again, and to be more happy. So, thank you Marco, thank you for being nice to him, for playing with him, and for being like a brother to him.”
Marco couldn't believe what he just had heard. The King was thanking him. HIM. For being nice. “Of course, your Highness.” Marco replied. King Valentino made a hand gesture, “Eh, none of that. I told you I’m just Valentino for you, okay?”
He could do that, even if everything in his body was against talking so casually with the King. Marco nodded, “Yes, Valentino.” in the he
“Eh, a bit better, we’ll work on that.” Valentino shrugged. “Allora, we need to talk about your life now. You are my ward now. That means school for you, learning etiquette, and the boring political stuff. You are not going to work anymore, you get treated with respect. Francesco told me that he has already shown you your new room. Is that to your liking?”
“Yes, the room is so big. Bigger than the room that I shared with the others.” In his opinion the room was huge, even if Franky and Pecco said something different.
“Good. I want you to know that you can always come to me if you want something, or someone gives you trouble, okay?” Marco nodded understandingly, he could do that. The next good question would be if he would do it. That's a different thing. “Okay, fine.”
“Anyway, it's late. Children your age should be in bed soon.” Now that was weird. The last few weeks he didn't go to bed before midnight at all. And even before that, he had to work until the sun already had set. It wasn't completely dark outside just yet. There was still a little bit of daylight left. The King seemed to notice the confusion. “When did you normally go to bed?” He asked.
“Uh, it depends on the day. Normally around midnight, or after.” Marco explained. Valentino inhaled sharply. “You are five years old. You should be fast asleep at that time. When did you wake up?”
Marco bit his lip, he had obviously upset the King. “Normally before sunrise. Early enough to help bake the bread.” Now that got another reaction out of Valentino. “No, you are going to bed right now. If there is one thing I’ve learned as a father, it is that children need their sleep. If they don't get enough of it, there will be crying, tantrums and health issues.”
Without any warning, Valentino picked him up and carried him to his room. The adult dropped him in the large bed. “You go and change into your night clothes. I’ll go and get the other two.” With that, the King left the room. Marco scrambled to search for the clothes and changed as fast as possible into them.
It didn't take long for Valentino to come back. He carried a book with him, and behind him came Pecco and Franky. “Under the blanket, Marco.”
The little boy crawled under the blanket and waited patiently for what would happen next. Franky and Pecco sat on the bed right next to him. Valentino sat down on a chair next to the bed and opened the book. Then he began to read, “Once upon a time there was a Prince…”