“Hoppy!” A high, winey voice echoes through the young prince's room suite, “I need of you!” This is accompanied by an incessant ringing as Prince Fir tugs on the summoning bell.

“Hoppy! I require you! Come hither!” His voice rings out high and clear, and so too does the bell.

Fir hearing the pattering of paws outside his doorway nods in satisfaction, it seemed that the old butler was still able to service him adequately. Fir had needs, and those needs must be attended too, though he had recently been trying to get rid of the Gerbil, the reason being that he lacked the poise needed to be able to represent Fir when he was at social events, often leading to embarrassment in front of his peers.

A knock and Fir looks down at his timepiece, ten seconds late! Shame! A butler must always be on time! If he hadn’t served the family for three generations then he would have been sacked by now! A disappointing disgrace, and after the fifteen seconds of leeway that he had allowed! Fir shakes his head, and mutters, “Disappointing, disappointing.”

“Come in Hoppy!” The door opens and in enters, an old Gerbil hunched from age and struggling to carry to the platter of food that was currently balanced precariously upon his wrinkled forearms.

Hoppy went to place the platter in front of the young prince but was quick to wave it away, “For coming ten seconds late, you must stand there for a hundred.” The prince's curls his lips in disdain.

Commoner probably doesn’t even know how to read a clock! A disgrace of a butler!

On the butlers part though, he looked at the prince askance! He has served the Royal Family for over ten years now! Serving three generations of young princes!

Propriety though, demands that he stands still, and so he stands, arms shaking, and breathing heavy.

Ten seconds pass by…. The poor Gerbil can feel his arthritis flare up and the plates start to shake ominously.

Twenty seconds pass by…. Prince Fir looks on, nothing but contempt can be seen in his eyes, as he looks at the struggling Gerbil.

Forty seconds…. Hoppy looks pleadingly at the young prince, begging for release, for mercy, but as he looked into those arrogant eyes he knew that none is forthcoming.

Fifty seconds…. Prince Fir’s stomach growls. He looks up and glowers at the Butler. The Butler is barely holding on, drawing on the reserves of willpower that he had managed to cultivate through his long years of service to the royal family, tears started forming within his eyes, tears which are also just being held back by the reserves of will that he had managed to call upon.

Fifty-five seconds…”Hopkins! That is enough! I am hungry and require sustenance!” Hoppy hearing the word “enough” rushes over to the prince and drops the plates solidly upon the young aristocrats' lap before he dashes away into the corner to catch his breath and work out the aches and pains that had suddenly start to assault him. He would need to ask the Innkeeper for that medicine again, the one that eased the pain and took the stress away, Boor, Bear, or something along those lines he thought it was called, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember the exact word for it, and at the moment he had more pressing problems.

The Prince sends a scathing look the Butlers way, thinking about punishing him once again, but looking at the food thinks better of a decision for his stomach starts to moan and ache, letting its opinions be known. Thus he dug in and ate his fill relegating Hoppy to the corner, before falling into a food-induced coma, his chest beginning rise and fall slowly.

Hoppy also slowly walks toward the princelings bed, taking the food platter and removing it carefully from the young mouse’s chest, before stepping away quickly and letting out a sigh of profound relief. Summarily he stalks out the door and shuts it quietly behind him, careful not to make too much noise lest he wakes the young princeling from his slumber.

Now in the hallway, he looks around at the winding oak hallways and sighs happily, the palace always did bring him feelings of comfort, it is located at the centre of the Evertree and is regarded as the most beautiful critter-made thing in existence. It is the centre of the Kingdom of Everdell and was and still is, a beacon of peace, built right after the Great Rodent-Critter wars of the first FE (Founding of Everdell.) It was a sign of peace and triumph over evil.

He walks back to his humble room near Their Majesties Suites. He continues to think about all sorts of things, his mind wandering from topic to topic, he thinks about his sister up in Acornsville, and his poor nephew currently being sent from Lefton down here to the capital, may the Great Critter rest his poor soul.

In no time he finds himself at the door leading to his room, and so he reaches out and opens up the old oaken entryway and prepares to use some of the other medicine the Innkeeper recommended him called whiskey. To be taken in small doses the Innkeeper said, one small cup should be enough to take the edge off of whatever was bothering him, and more should be taken if he wanted to forget all.

So focused was he that he didn’t even notice the two figures that were sitting by his fireplace waiting for him notice them.

Going for his cupboard he prepares to reach inside and withdraw the small glass that the innkeeper had given him, only to feel a sudden prickling, a feeling that he associates as a Butler's sixth sense, being able to tell when the nobility was close by, or when a bell was rung.

Thus, he, turning around he gasps in surprise. “Majesties! Forgive me!” He throws his hands up in a panic, before saying hurriedly, his expression one of worry; “Perhaps a cup of herbal tea or maybe a pie?” He starts to bustle around his little kitchenette, “Forgive me from not noticing the bells ringing I was occupied with the pri-“

“Hoppy! Hoppy! calm down!” The King raises his hand his eyes twinkling with amusement, “Don’t worry! We didn’t ring at all!” The King quickly starts to comfort the poor thing.

“Oh! Thank the Evertree!” Hoppy putting his hands over his mouth, gasps in horror, “Oh! Forgive my blasphemy! I am just tad distraught after serving the young Prince.” He once again starts to bustle around his kitchenette trying to get something ready and suppress his feelings of embarrassment.

The King shares a glance with the Queen, and the amusement disappears and is replaced with something… Darker. “Yes… Yes... The Prince…. Sit down, Hopkins. Please. We have much to talk about.”

Hoppy stops, straightens, and takes a deep breath, he isn't so far past his prime to not notice that something is wrong. “At once.” He takes a seat by the fireplace, noting that another chair had been added to the usual two chairs set up.

The Majesties seem to be lost in thought for a while, before, sighing, the Queen says, “We have noticed that you have started to drink Hopkins. We would like to know why.”

“Drinking? What’s that?” Hopkins looks at the Queen in confusion.

The King looked at him askance, his expression was almost identical to his sons. “You do not know what drinking is?”

“Indeed. I have never heard of it!” Hoppy looks at the Majesties a mystified expression adorning his face, and he waits for an explanation.

The Queen starts speaking, “Drinking is commonly defined as the consumption of liquor, or in your case, Beer and Whiskey.”

Understanding dawns upon him, “Do you mean the medicine that the Innkeeper recommended?”

She speaks again, her nose twitching, “The Innkeeper recommended it? And why did you ask for medicine in the first place? Why not go to the doctor?”

“Oh, no, no, no! It just came up in conversation when I was going into the market! I just mentioned that I was a little stressed and he recommended those medicines! Said that they helped many a person drown out their pain and stress. That is all! I obviously took it, and it worked spectacularly! Though as the innkeeper said it does have some serious side effects, after all, it is still a relatively new invention.” The old Gerbil is quick to explain, barely taking a breath, his tail twitching nervously.

The King rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on, “Sometimes I can’t believe..” He shakes his head and starts again, “Why do you feel stressed? The Queen and I try to keep our demands to a minimum and usually ask other servants to do most of the menial work.” The King and the Queen had talked beforehand and had come to suspect their son, they were just seeking confirmation.

“Oh, no, no, no! Not your Majesties!, Never your Majesties!”

“The who?!” The King raises his voice, “Speak Hopkins! Speak!” The Butler seems to deflate a little, his shoulders slumping lower, his voice a little quieter, and mutters, “It is the Princeling.”

The Highnesses share a glance before the Queen lashing her tail sighs. “As suspected. What as he been doing Hopkins?”

He told them.

It took a while but he told them.

“It seems that he must be taught the same lesson I was all those years ago.” The King mutters, stroking his whiskers.

“We must send him to the Everguard.”