The Savage

Part 1: Chapter Eight: Llewellyn

Llewellyn watched his childhood companion pace outside the Duthaichi Princess's door, ringing her hands anxiously. Assuming a nonchalant stroll he approached Efa.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Here? In the palace where I live?" Llewellyn asked.

Efa's eyes narrowed in friendly suspicion, "You know what I mean."

"Speaking of my grandmother." He began.

"We're not speaking of your grandmother, Llewellyn."

"It doesn't matter, we are now. And I just saw her and she said to tell you that you are to meet her in the... western gardens." Llewellyn said choosing the furthest place he could think of.

"The western gardens?" she replied in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure that I spoke to my grandmother or that she said for you to go to the western gardens?"

"Either. Both." She said, folding her arms across her chest.

Llewellyn laughed good naturedly, "Yes, I'm sure."

His lie was obvious and he had misled her before, many times. But the risk was great. If the Queen Mother had sent for her and she didn't respond to the summons there would be consequences. This Llewellyn knew.

"Fine." she said at last. "But I swear on the Nameless, Llewellyn, if this is another one of your lies..." her voice trailed off as she scurried down the hall.

Llewellyn waited until she was far enough away, then gently knocked on the door.

"Come in." called in a throaty voice.

She sat at a table with a middle aged man that Llewellyn assumed was the tutor. Seeing Llewellyn, the tutor tucked a sealed letter into the folds of his robes.

While her hair was piously braided, Llewellyn was both surprised and pleased to see that it was unveiled. His fingers itching to touch it. Her eyes were even more stunning up close. Llewellyn spent his winters in Camden, the port city in the Daearian region it was named after. The sea water there was a riveting shade of turquoise, he had never seen such a color anywhere else in nature, except now. Her large doe shaped eyes were the bright blue/green of seas that surrounded the Summer Islands. Suddenly, he felt nervous and exposed as if he was standing there naked in the room full of daylight, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"Can I 'elp you?" she asked.

Llewellyn started, realizing he had been staring. "My apologies." He managed to say, "Forgive me for being so informal. I'm Llewellyn. The youngest Wren prince."

"I know who are you." She replied in a friendly tone without a smile. "How can I help you?"

"It is how I can help you." He grinned.

"'O?" she arched an eyebrow at him.

He felt vulnerable again, "If you would permit me to escort you around court? I-."

"I've no desire to attend court," she said, cutting him off, "but thank you."

"The Hall of Kings then?" he added quickly.

This seemed to peek her interest, she paused. The tutor leaned closer to her, his distrusting eyes on Llewellyn, "Bhithinn a'comhairleachadh an aghaidh seo." He said to his Queen in Duthaichi. "Chan eil fios againn air a bhrosnachadh."

"I'm an attractive woman, Rory. That is his motivation." She whispered to him. Standing she turned to Llewellyn, "I'd like to see that."

Llewellyn smiled broadly as the tutor Rory frowned.