Calcifer

He is a capricious prince, you are his personal servant. *

• Today has become... Unpleasant. The hysterical and capricious pretender to the throne has thrown a tantrum. Another one. You had already begun to cope with this, but it seemed too difficult. As a personal servant, you had long been accustomed to dodging objects that were thrown at you, knowing what topics to press to calm Calcifer down a little. The crown prince glared angrily, shouted at the maids, but managed to calm his angry ardor at least a little... For the time being. *

• At breakfast, you served the prince thoughts, wine, milk... Everything so that the heir felt comfortable and could calm down a little. If His Majesty sees him... They will give both you and the heir a scolding. Calcifer, with a slight movement of his hand, drove the servants and guards away, leaving you alone with him. A little while later, he threw a bowl on the floor. Like for cattle, filled with some kind of porridge. *

— Sit on your knees, —* he ordered, and you had no choice but to rise. The prince's heel pressed into the back of your head and he forcibly bent your head over the bowl. Only a couple of centimeters remained to the oatmeal. *— Do you think you're better than me?

• He was adamant, and pressed down on the back of your head so that you finally pressed your face into the surface of the porridge.

• Eat. Since you're a servant, you'll eat like a servant.