"Hi, my name's Palette; what's yours?"

Goth looked up from his breakfast; a boy with a colorful stain on their right cheek grinned back at him while holding a tray of food. The young skeleton looked a bit taller than him and had plain clothing similar to his own: a dirty hat, an off-white dirt-smudged shirt, brown pants, and scuffed brown shoes; likely hand-me-downs from the orphanage director, much like his hooded off-white shoulder cape, grey shirt, brown pants, and brown shoes. The red scarf draped around his neck was the only colorful article he laid claim to; a memento from his deceased mother.

The boy tilted their head slightly, as if waiting for something... right, they had asked a question.

"It's Goth... I don't remember seeing you around here, are you new?" the smaller questioned. He heard that a new kid had arrived two weeks ago but had pushed the thought from his mind when no new faces had appeared.

"Yeah! The nice lady said I was living here now since I can't remember anything besides my name; she said it had something to do with the crack in my skull," Palette chirped, placing down his tray and lifting his hat to show off a jagged mark the size of the smaller's pinky on the right side of his skull. He couldn't remember anything... did that mean he had amnesia?

"Does it bother you? Not being able to remember anything, I mean," Goth quickly added, looking away in shame.

Palette quirked his mouth for a moment before shaking his skull, "Nah, everyone's really nice here and someone who knows me will find me eventually, so worrying about what I can't remember seems silly!"

Goth didn't expect that kind of response, gaping at the taller for a moment before stifling laughter. At least the new guy was optimistic. "Sorry," he took a breath, "you surprised me. Most people would be upset about not remembering their family or their past, but you're choosing to enjoy what's in front of you instead of dwelling on what you lost. Honestly, I'm impressed; I'm not sure if I could do the same in your situation."

Palette let out a chuckle, wrapping an arm around the smaller, "You're funny; I have a feeling we're going to get along great! We'll be best friends!"

Goth flushed at the statement; this kid seriously called him their best friend when they barely even knew him! On the other hand, having a friend for once would be pretty nice; most of the other kids ignored or avoided him. Figuring the worst Palette could do was start ignoring him like everyone else, he didn't see the harm in humoring the monster until they got bored of him.

---

Contrary to his initial expectations, Palette never got bored or tired of him; in fact, the pair had become nearly inseparable from each other.

From what he told Goth, Palette had been found unconscious near the smoldering remains of a burnt-out carriage; the caretakers guessed it was the result of bandits. He had spent the first two weeks of his stay in the sickbay recovering from his injuries and when it had been assessed that he had no memories to aid them in returning him to any remaining family, it had been decided he would stay at the orphanage instead.

Palette seemed to adjust well to life in the orphanage; the month passed by in a flash with the skeleton making many friends, but always spending the majority of his time with Goth. The pair were currently in the dormitories on the bottom bunk of their bed drawing since the taller skeleton had recently discovered his proficiency for art and was excited to pursue it. Since the smaller monster didn't mind what they did as long as they got to spend time together, he had managed to scrounge up some paper and crayons so they could make pictures together; he was drawing butterflies in a meadow while his companion was putting windows on a castle.

Truth be told, Goth was secretly thankful for the circumstances that brought his new friend to the orphanage, even if it made him a jerk; he really liked spending time with Palette. Whenever they were together, a fluttery warmth filled his soul that made him feel so special, even though he was just some scrawny orphaned monster in everyone else's eyes.

"The King's here!"

Goth looked up at the shout as a group of kids raced past the doorway; their footsteps thundered down the hallway and the stairs.

"King? Who's that?" Palette asked, looking up from his drawing. Goth blinked at the monster, quickly brushing off his surprise; it only made sense they didn't know who the king was given their missing memories.

"It's probably King Ink; he's the guy that rules over our country...," Goth supplied, pausing to contemplate the reason, "he usually doesn't travel this far out, though... I wonder if he's looking for servants or something."

"Come on, let's go see!" the taller skeleton tugged at Goth's sleeve, dragging him off the bed and down the stairs. A crowd of children was already waiting at the bottom and a moment of apprehension seized him as they descended. The chance of being adopted into the service of royalty sounded nice, but there was also the possibility of only one of them being picked; if that happened, they would probably never see each other again.

As the pair got to the last step, a regal figure stepped through the doorway. King Ink cut an imposing silhouette against the row of guards at his back, his cape's gold embroidery shining in the sunlight. The older monster's gaze swept over the crowd of murmuring children in silence... he looked like he was searching for something.

Goth's sockets widened; was the king actually looking for a servant? But if that was the case, why wasn't he saying anything or asking questions? To find a proper servant, wouldn't he need to look for certain personality traits?

The young monster couldn't help flinching when the king's gaze roved over him; their eye lights changed shapes, seemingly surprised. Stepping forward, the adult made their way through the crowd towards him and stopped in front of the small skeleton. No way... was he actually- but he couldn't! Palette-

The king kneeled... and pulled Palette, who was standing next to him, into a hug. His friend appeared shell-shocked as well as the older monster rumbled out, "My son, I thought I had lost you along with your mother. Yet here you are, alive and well."

Goth was still trying to process the exchange as the king pulled away from the impromptu hug with his son; their tearful smile fell at the look of confusion on Palette's face. As King Ink was pulled aside by the director to have the situation explained to him, the taller skeleton mumbled, "He called me son... hey, you said he's a king, right? Does that mean I'm a prince?"

"I guess so...," the smaller mused... then his mood and face slowly crumbled as the implications hit him, "I guess this also means... you'll be leaving. C-congratulations... you...," Goth hid his face in his sleeves as his sockets began watering, not wanting to make a scene as he forced out, "you'll get to go home now."

He hated this; he should be happy his best friend had found their family... so why did he have to cry and ruin it for them?

He felt himself being pulled into a hug, feeling their forehead pressed against his own as he opened his sockets to see Palette's gradient stars staring back at him, "It'll be okay, don't cry! I'll make sure to visit you every day!"

"That will not be possible," the king interjected, his eye lights shifting shape and color, "There is much to do once we return home to remedy the situation and the trip here would be much too long to make on a daily basis."

Goth bowed his skull, his tears now falling freely at the news. Choking back a sob, he buried his face into his friend's chest to hide his misery... it wasn't fair...

Palette balked at the information and his friend's distress, squeezing them tighter, "But... no, I can't leave Goth; he's my best friend! Everyone else ignores him... he'll be lonely!"

The information stung to hear aloud, especially in front of a crowd, but Goth couldn't refute it. He was quiet by nature and didn't really like any of the louder and rougher games the other kids played; he preferred to sit and do quiet activities, so they called him boring. Being a skeleton monster didn't help matters either and often got him labeled as creepy or weird.

"Do not be stubborn, Palette. You-"

"No! I'm not leaving him!" the boy interrupted with a shout, glaring at his father while maintaining a solid grip on his friend. The bold declaration had Goth staring up at his friend in shock... Palette had yelled at the king; the gods-loving king! Surely, a royal of such bearing wouldn't-

"It cannot be helped, then," King Ink huffed, turning to the director, "how would I go about adopting this one?" He was gesturing to Goth... wait, did he-

Goth was jarred from his thoughts as Palette picked him up and swung him around, cheering, "We're going to live in a castle together! Isn't that great?!" The smaller monster latched onto their arms for fear of being dropped... but he couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face at the news.

As long as he could be with Palette, he didn't care where he ended up.

***

Word Count: 1,616