The prince knew where he wanted to visit, but was sure he did not want his bodyguard to know where he was going.
So he snuck out. Large windows, sturdy shrubs, a nearly moonless night, and subtly encouraging his guards to indulge all came together in a flawless plan that had him on the streets with no one in the palace taking notes.
He knew his freedom was only temporary, so he wanted to make the most of it well he could.
The neighborhood of negotiable affection was only a short walk away, something that the nobility all publicly decried, but the prince suspected many of them privately took advantage. Five minutes after scaling his wall, he was strolling along the street.
Many opportunities were dangling bits of their bodies out of windows in various stages of undress. But the prince has a specific destination in mind. To keep up appearances, he didn’t avoid the chance to window-shop, of course. His cover would be blown badly if he were recognized, and he might even be in danger from some hooligan with a political message to send. So he gawked at the windows just as any young buck fresh to town would do.
He quickly found his way to Zoot’s, easily recognized by the very oddly shaped lamp hanging in a window. Once there, he was discretely recognized because Madame is no fool, but also not acknowledged because, again, Madame is no fool. He was ushered into a private room where eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between sixteen and nineteen and a half, took turns caring for his every need.
Before anything too untoward could happen his guard turned up, and after a certain amount of good natured banter with Zoot and the girls, returned him to his rooms at the palace.