Neighboring kingdoms, Magna Aurum and Perdita Bellicus, are headed into a new era. The presumed heirs to either throne are pushed together in an attempt to keep the country whole. Will they be able to keep it together or has everything already falle...
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The front door crept open and with backward steps, Prince exited the small, village house. He slowly led Denise out with him but she stopped just beyond the doorway before Prince could get her outside.
"Please come back." Denise pleaded with him, holding onto his hand.
"Of course, I'll come back," he said, lifting the woman's hand and placing a kiss on the back of it as his eyes drifted up to meet hers. "Wait up for me?"
Denise nodded. "I will." Her hand slipped out of his grasp and she stepped back into her house, shutting the door after her departure.
Prince shut his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. He fixed the collar of his shirt and straightened the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered and he exhaled, his lips parting and a grin spreading across his face.
"Wow..." A whisper floated from his mouth.
The man turned and Empress rose to her feet before him. He walked over to her side, grabbing onto the saddle on the mare's back and placing his foot into the stirrup. He pulled himself up and cast his other leg over Empress's back to her opposite side.
"I don't know what you're so mad about," he said, shifting into a comfortable spot on the horse's saddle, "I didn't take too long."
Empress raised her head to the sky and Prince's gaze followed. A soft blue with a few wisp clouds coated the sky above, a complete 180 from the dreary and storm-ridden night that Prince had left the mare in before.
Prince sighed. "Okay, okay. Maybe I did take a while but—" Empress kicked her foot against the ground and the petitely built man's body jolted, "at least I had fun."
He grasped the horse's reins and she whinnied, starting their newest journey. The duo trudged out of the back alleyway and into the main streets of the town. Empress's shoes clicked along the ground and some of the citizens on the streets stepped out of the way while others continued on their paths, by foot.
Prince was the only one to defy the rules. The rules that were drawn upon signs throughout the town square, the rules that his father— the king of Perdita Bellicus— had declared.
But this was expected.
King John knew full and well that his son would disobey him in public, as he often did in private, and this matter was certainly no different.
The throne's heir had been enamored by his black mare from the moment he'd first set eyes on her. Now, 10 years later, the twenty-something-year-old's relationship with his something-teen-year-old horse had not wavered a bit and he refused to give her up to walk himself around town.
