Lovers End

Chapter Two: Part Four

The following two weeks crept by, the sudden onset of cold gradually subsiding, allowing the children to venture outside and play in the snow once again. The village had sufficient provisions to last until the upcoming hunting season, and life settled into a routine. While Aurora continued to care for her father, she kept her distance, giving him the cold shoulder since the night he told emeric no. Franklin, troubled by her silent treatment, found himself frustrated, but both were locked in a battle of stubbornness.

Theodore, making occasional visits to the tavern for water-fetching duties, soon found himself replaced by Emeric. The fire wood ran out quicker than thought, Emeric was there to chop more wood. The stables needed tending too, Emeric was there to switch out the hay and groom what horses were being stored. Candles needed replacing, Emeric showed up with a arm full the next day.

Emeric had made it impossible for Franklin to escape him, even when it came to his illness. Aurora didnt know how or where he had got them from but Emeric would show up with herbs and strange liquids for franklin to drink to help him. At first, Franklin vehemently rejected the concoctions. "I'm not putting that stuff anywhere near me!" he would protest, turning away from the spoonful of liquid Aurora offered.

Aurora, irritated by his resistance, scolded, "Stop being a baby and drink. You think he's going to poison you?" Reluctantly, Franklin would comply. The mysterious elixir, though unappetizing, proved effective. Within a few days of regular doses, Franklin's coughing and wheezing ceased. Despite the evident improvement, Franklin stubbornly stuck to his earlier stance. "This changes nothing. He can work until his hands bleed and cure me of a million diseases, my answer still stands," he declared, further fueling the tension. In response, Aurora chose to forgo sharing meals with her father, escalating the discord between them.

For Emeric, he understood that grand gestures were not what mattered to Franklin; it was about character. He worked tirelessly, taking care of the tavern, bringing supplies, and ensuring the people had warmth by lighting bonfires across the Kingdom. Balancing these tasks with his responsibilities at the castle was exhausting, yet Emeric persisted.

Returning to the castle that night, Emeric made it in time for dinner with his family, aware that his mother would be displeased if he failed to attend. "How was your day today?" Agatha, his mother inquired, but Emeric, who was almost falling asleep in his soup almost didnt hear her. "It was alright," he replied wearily, still managing a forced, gentle smile. Emeric's eyes shifted to the guard who approached his mother, whispering in her ear.

Agatha delicately wiped her mouth and stood up. "Excuse me, it seems the florists need me in the foyer." she explained respectfully, leaving the prince and the King alone. "What about the girl?" Jorah asked, as soon his wife left. Emeric chuckled softly, teasingly commenting, "These days I feel you ask more about her than about me," setting down his utensils for a moment. Jorah responded with a curious smile. "I only ask because I know you've been sneaking off," Jorah remarked, acknowledging Emeric's attempts to keep his visits to the tavern discreet.

"How is it going? Has Franklin gotten over himself?" Jorah inquired. Emeric's expression fell at the mention of Franklin's name. "He still hasn't spoken to me. He barely looks at me without a snare on his face...I just don't understand. I've never done him wrong, and he believes that I have some ulterior motive for wanting to marry her," Emeric expressed his frustrations. Jorah's expression changed to one of guilt.

Years had passed since Jorah last spoke to Franklin, relieving him of his duties to fulfill one final task—a task that appeared to be Franklin's overachievement. "Leave us," Jorah commanded, addressing the butlers standing ready for requests, Emerics Concern grew when his father requested the butlers to leave them—a rare occurrence reserved for serious matters. After the dining rooms doors were closed, Jorah sat up straighter in his chair, fixing his gaze on his son across the table.