When a capable guard's daughter feels so demanding...
When a concerned friend feels so intrusive...
Why does the one who tries to kill him feel most like a friend?
The answer lies in the forgotten weeks.
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Vayne Terrencus felt somebody dragging him away from the center of the dust cloud, even though that person was moving in spurts, probably choking as well.
He tried to move his tail, not wanting to be dead weight when this person was probably suffering as well.
Vayne lifted his head slightly, still choking on the water, to see the billowing pink hair and long black horns of his friend Amerle Roserech.
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By the time they got out of the thick of the dust it was settling anyway.
Vayne's coughs were subsiding. He carefully pulled water into his mouth and out his gills, making sure he could speak.
"Thank you, Amerle."
Amerle gave a strained smile, nervously tugging on their gold tunic with a bluish white hand, the usual color of merfolk skin in the kingdom of Fres.
"Are you okay, prince?" a stressed voice asked.
It was Tyris Elysen, a high guard's daughter.
"Did you see what set off that dust explosion?" another voice asked, this time an important guard.
"It was a dark haired boy! I'm sorry, I wasn't able to stop him, and to make things worse he got away in the confusion." Tyris said, hanging her head.
"It wasn't your responsibility. You did well spotting him. I or one of the other guards should have seen him. We've failed you, prince." the guard said.
"Not at all." Vayne said.
What motive could the boy have had for ruining the coronation? The next in line for the throne was Vayne's aunt on his mother's side, a green haired woman named Srilla with a soft temperament. Vayne couldn't imagine her doing this.
And what was the boy going to do now? Clearly they could just hold another coronation ceremony- unless something happened before then.
"Sir Frenz, check if the royal octopus is safe! And you, Lady Kuril, check on lady Srilla!" Tyris said.
