66 Fortune Favours the Brave

Wilfred POV. 

Wilfred is a 35-year-old man with many talents, so much so that he has become the go-to guy in their small city in South England. 

"Edward… is there something wrong?" I asked as he put my towel on my shoulder while reclining on my wooden door frame. I have been friends with Edward since Friends, though he usually doesn't come to my house this late. 

"No, no, not at all, well… I don't know how you look at it." Edward said as he looked to the sides before talking in a moderate voice: "You know that the Imperial Prince of the Colombian Empire has docked here, right? It was about a broken mast."

"Yeh, it is all my wife talked about when she came home." Sigh… Felipe, the owner of Golden Globe editorial… "The genius kid became a prince... what a story, heh."

"Indeed, make you think there is a possibility for anyone," Edward said, making me laugh. 

"No, don't you remember? Their family is De Aragon… their family is Palaiologos, the last Roman Emperor Constantine the 11th is his great-great…" Before I finished, I was interrupted by Edward; well, I sometimes get carried away with history. 

"I know, I know, you talk a lot about him. You are more fan of him than of your own King." Edward said, clearly annoyed by my rambling. Hehe, anyone who tries is better than our obese King. 

"Not really his fan, I admire what he creates… I will stop talking." I shut up, seeing his annoyance with me. 

"The prince told me to fetch him a guy to groom his hair and beard before he departs to meet the king in London," Edward said as he looked at me; there was no reason for him to keep going. I understand what he wants, yet I want to be clear. 

"What you want then? You want me to cut Royal's hair?" Yikes, the responsibility makes me shiver just thinking about it. 

"Well, you are the one that cuts children's hair." 

"I am not a hair cutter; I am a tailor."

"Part-time doctor and Sheep sheerer; you are the only one qualified for this job. Plus, he is nice somehow." Edward seems worried but not in a fearful way, but more afraid to let the prince down.

"Nice, somehow?" I am rather curious what a genius looks like. Maybe I should go. Miranda would be very excited about it. 

"I need an answer now; he told me to bring you there," Edward said in a hurry. Fuck it, I am also interested in him. "Okay, okay. I will do it." I conceded, not knowing what to do actually. 

"Then prepare; if this goes south, it is my neck." Idiot! What about MY neck?

He leaves, and I close the door. 

"Miranda, Honey!" I call my wife to share the news. 

"Yes? Who was at the door?" She answered with a question like always. 

"It was Edward."

"What he wanted?" Hehe, she is always answering with more questions.

"You know the prince? It is here."

"Yeh, something happened to him?" 

"No, nothing. Edward asked me if I wanted to cut his hair and groom his beard."

"… Are you for real? Are you serious? You are going to meet him?"

"Yeah, cut his hair in the morning," I said with a huge smile as Miranda put her hands on her open mouth, quite impressed. 

"Oh lord, what am I going to do? I must cook something, some cake?"

"I think he would have enough to eat." It is impossible that he can't get decent food where he is staying.

"Who knows… I will start preparing something."

"…" 

--

3rd POV.

Wilfred arrived at the Inn and looked at the sign at the top of the building, 'Not a place worthy for a future emperor, but beggars can not choosers, even at the highest level.'

The Inn was not of the highest quality; at least it was painted and the outside walls clean from mud and horseshit. 

"Erhhh. Hello… I am here to cut hair for Prince Phil…. Felipe?" Wilfred said to the two guards standing inside the Inn who came to the door after they saw Wilfred approach. 

"…" Wilfred gave in his two bags as the soldiers made the gesture. One was a box, and the other was basked with a cloth for a lining. 

"Cookies… my wife made them," Wilfred said as the two soldiers opened both containers to check what was inside each. They saw combs, scissors, blades and other miscellaneous stuff.

"Should we eat one?" One soldier asked the other in Spanish. 

"… They are for his majesty." The other one said.

"They might be with poison. I better eat one."

"I think I should eat one too." 

Both started to argue as they realized what they were speaking of. "He will get mad, won't he?"

"Bah, we ate crocodile in the middle of nowhere." The second soldier said. 

"You should not get familiar with it. We are just but soldiers."

"…" the second soldier thought for a second before nodding.

They both moved to the side and gave his two bags to the Tailor.

"Second floor." One of the soldiers said with a heavy accent. 

"…Thank…. Thank you." After Wildref arrived on the second floor, he looked at the few rooms, but only one had its door open. 

"What have I gotten myself into?" Wilfred murmured and slowly walked himself to the open door. 

"Hi?"

There, he saw the waist-up naked Miguel, who was whipping himself after he had somewhat bathed himself; his long hair was feral, and his beard was long enough to make him look like a caveman. 

"Are you the barber?" Felipe asked, very happy as he was rather tired. He could cut himself, but the times he has done it, he has truly messed the back of his head. 

"Ah! Yes… you…. Your majesty?"

"Yes, please enter. I am rather anxious for a fresh cut."

"Fresh?"

"New, new," Felipe said as he smiled, already bringing lingo from his past life. 

"Ah, I see." Wilfred looked at Felipe as he did not enter the room and looked at Felipe with astonishment as he knew him very well. His body was everything but the body of a 16-year-old teenager. 

The muscle weight was large enough to make each of his small steps feel like an entire elephant was passing by. 

"Please, enter. I do not bite, I promise." Felipe chuckled as he moved to the door. He received the Tailor's baggage and brought them in. 

"Oh… cookies? Your wife?" Felipe said as his curiosity made him open the basket first. 

"Ah!? Yes, yes indeed. How did you know?" Wilfred asked as he found himself entering the room. 

"Guessed, you don't seem like the type of guy with cooking prowess; it was your wife, your daughter or both… and looking at the odds, it was most possible for your wife to do so. Plus, you are a well-put man with ironed clothes, a well-groomed face and places men would not normally don't look at." Felipe said as he put one inside his mouth and closed his eyes to savour it. 

"Raisins." Felipe smiled as he tasted the concentrated fruit. He has been in the sea for almost a month. He was just happy to taste something sweet. 

Felipe had eaten something from the Inn last night, yet he enjoyed just some porridge as much as the cookie in his hand. 

"I see… But… I am a tailor... that is my main profession… but, yes indeed, it was my wife."

"These are great. Hopefully, I was not disrespectful."

"Oh, no… those were indeed for you. Please eat as many as you want." Wilfred said. 

"Then I will not be polite." Felipe quickly took another and ate it in a few bites. After swallowing, he looked back at Wilfred and quickly apologized. "I will eat them after… please help cut my hair," Miguel said as he brought up his box of barber equipment. 

"If you don't mind helping me with it." He took out a mechanic clipper and showed it to the Tailor. "I want you to use this… invention of mine… only the high-end barbers of my empire have them; we are trying to design mass production… sadly for this guy, that attention has been put to other inventions."

"What is it?"

"Clippers! Small scissors. It is for a very close cut to the skin… right… here… I want this." Felipe said as he gave the Tailor the sketch of what he wanted. 

"… This…."

"I do not know if you might get it, so I will do one side, and you do the rest because I have problems with it." Felipe quickly took out his scissors, comb, and the water he had prepared to wet his hair.

Wilfred looked at him perplexed and noticed how the machine resembling a futuristic scissor made cutting very short and uniformly easy. He was surprised by how many chunks of hair fell to the ground, and Felipe changed his looks permanently. 

"This is…"

"Now, please, could you help me on the other side and the back… then cut on the top? Please."

"Yes… I can do that… I would like to take my time mirroring on the other side first."

"Go for it. I am in no hurry." Felipe said as he took the newspaper and opened it. It was an edition of his newspaper! The golden globe. 

"Please don't be shy about instructing me. My ego is not important here but my ego." Felipe chuckled. 

"Yes of course… please lean left a bit…" The Tailor said patiently as he looked for the reference and levelled perfectly with the other side. He made the fade fade and left a nice transition between the top part and the right side.

"Perfect," Felipe said as he looked at the small mirror. "Now, why did I ask for you? Please do the back."

"I also have problems with the back when I do it myself… my wife has to help me." The Tailor said as he slowly leaned Felipe's head forward. 

"What is your name, by the way."

"Wilfred Anderson, sir."

"Ah, I see… Wilfred… what do you think about the Golden Globe?" Felipe asked as he had finished reading it.

"I read it every time it comes out… it is great to keep up with the world news. Informatve and interesting." 

"I see…"

"I am quite a big fan of your articles… though I do not condone violence, you write in a way that inspires me to pick up a musket."

"Then you will have to stop reading it… the revenue of the sales of that paper directly funded a war that has lasted well over a decade. I suppose you use my matches as well?"

"Yes… quite expensive."

"They are… they and this paper have kept me in the power of my country… that requires blood… deaths… massacres," Felipe said as he smiled, looking at the Tailor cut his hair with the utmost detail. 

"Like any other product, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but the company's profit pays for those taxes that would go to war; in mine, everything is sent to war. I have never seen a shilling from that."

"Yet you are next to be emperor… a Gran Duke according to that editorial," Wilfred said as he looked at the headline visible.

"Right... I left before the information about this was known to me… I learned about it this very morning. It is annoying the fact that it is one week old… I spent too much at sea."

"Indeed, especially it has been a dry year in land… that means that the currents of air in the coasts and need in the ocean are normally strong enough to sink ships."

"… I count myself as a lucky miracle… I guess there is truth to that."

"Or you are unlucky for finding such bad weather."

"…Indeed." Felipe chuckled. 

"… Sorry for asking, but are you looking to fight the Ottomans?" Wilfred asked as he continued fading the back side. 

"I would do anything to get my ancestor's glory, even to go against Britain," Felipe said, smiling. "Constantinople shall be liberated from its captors, and my biggest weapon is my pen. I am just using it." Felipe said very satisfied with the Tailor. 

"As a good Christian, I can only hope you succeed."

"… That is my duty… to wash the mistakes of my ancestors… rather my duty… purpose if you will," Felipe said as he remained as still as possible. 

"Purpose. If yours is to wage a crusade against the, then the purpose of people like me is to die for the people destined to greatness." The barber said as he skillfully cut his client's back hair to his specifications.

"People like you… normal?"

"Yes… basically." He continued cutting. 

"I was destined to be the son of a former noble living in the UK. I probably go to fancy parties and blow all my generational wealth gambling or on food. I was fated to die at birth; I should have died at that battle in Venezuela… heh… trying to meet death, yet I have realized that its will doesn't want me." 

"Fortune favours the brave, sir… your majesty." Wilfred panicked as he forgot how to address him. 

"If it does, why you don't do the same?" 

"What? Conquer Constantinople? I am afraid even if I had the will to do so, I don't have any claim to it."

"No… Delusion is a dangerous thing… but aspiration is not… your wife makes delicious cookies." Miguel said, "I might be too biased due to my hunger… but it was delicious indeed. Make a shop… a business… make it big… think with the interests of owning your galleys to ship them to Europe even."

"Fortune favours the brave, huh."

"I am not qualified to tell you what to do with your life… but I refuse to be ordinary… I will die in doing so… even if it costs everything." Miguel said as he felt Wilfred's delicate hands leave his skull.

"I thought the only reason you could reach the level you are right now was your genius," Wilfred said as he compelled Felipe's top hair, looked at the sketch the prince had given him, and began to cut away. "It seems it is not; your bravery it is."

"…" Felipe said nothing and let him cut his golden hair. 

After a while of the sounds of the scissors dominating the room, Felipe once again talked, looking very pleased with the finished service he was given. "Your wife's cookies… I want enough to feed my men… They are not many."

"… Oh…"

"If I am hungry for something other than bread to the point where I don't care as long as it is different, they will be even more knowing most of them spent the entire trip vomiting," Felipe said as he chuckled. 

"…"

"Please, try to do so. I will pay for them."

"… I will tell her… But I can not promise anything." He said humbly. 

"Fortune favours the brave, Wilfred."

"… Right."