Moonmount Castle - LGBT, manXman

7

Lodareth

The hunt returned just as the dinner gong rang inside the castle. Isolde and Lady Sevaritza were talking happily as we trotted into the stable yard. Isolde had killed the first doe, I, the second hog that was spotted.

As we drew our horses to a halt, four boys from the kitchen came to take the carcasses away; the meat would be skinned, prepared and cooked for the feast tonight.

The guests handed over their horses to the stable boys and hurried up to the castle to change for dinner. After handing my horse over to Cassius, one of the more competent stable hands, I set off after them, but not before giving the stable another sweeping glance, hoping to see the new boy once more.

Seguin was already in my chambers when I arrived, my legs covered with mud, my hair windswept, and my overcoat shredded by the thick thorns of a hedgerow.

A warm bath was set ready in the bathroom that was connected to me large bedchamber.

I let Seguin take my overcoat and breeches, ignoring his gentle chiding about the state of my coat, and slid thankfully into the warm water. I quickly scrubbed off all the mud I could find, and washed my hair with a bar of perfumed soap.

By the time I had toweled myself dry, Seguin had laid out a new tunic, in a rather nice shade of red, clean breeches and a pair of low-heeled evening boots. I slipped the clothes on thankfully, feeling a chill creeping into the evening air.

"Light the fire in here tonight, will you, Seguin?" Pulling on my overcoat and straightening the sleeves and collar myself, I saw him nod before I left my chambers and headed down to the dining hall.

My father had, predictably, arranged for me to be seated next to Princess Isolde at dinner. Thankfully, we talked little, because she was seated next to Lady Sevaritza and the pair were great friends.

I listened to them chatter about the afternoon hunt with half an ear. Most of my mind was occupied with the stable boy.

Try as I might, I couldn't get those startling blue eyes out of my head. I had been trying hard for the past few years to quash these dangerous desires of mine, and I had thought, for the past year or so, that I had been successful. Those eyes, however, had lit a spark within me; a spark I couldn't seem to quash, no matter how I tried.

Thinking of my father, and his expectations of my marriage to Princess Isolde, and then of periwinkle blue eyes, did nothing to improve my already sour mood.

By the time dinner was over, I was in a worse temper than I'd been in for some time. My father, who had seen my gloomy expression, made his way over to me after dinner, most likely to berate me for not trying hard enough to win the attentions of Isolde.

Luckily, he was cornered by one of the visiting Lords, who wished to discuss various rises in taxes in his town, and he had no opportunity of speaking to me.

I took my chance and slipped quietly away, deciding to go down to the stables and collect my horse. When I'm in a particularly bad ire, as my mother used to put it, riding seems to be the only thing that calms me down.