Cinderfall

Sable

Sable arrived just in time for the evening meal, the cat nearly nipping at his heels. He hadn't realized how long the lesson had ran. It had felt so short in the moment. He wasn't certain that he had wanted it to end at all. He hadn't gotten Ashford out of his shell. He hadn't even managed to get him to say Sable's name. Oh well, the next session was in three days' time, he'd try again.

The king eyed him as he came in. "You look like you lost a fight with a wild cat."

Sable grinned broadly, "I did."

"My son lost? Pray tell which brutish clout had the honor of smacking you about? I would pay ever so dearly to see it done again." The light voice sent a shudder down his spine and on instinct he straightened up as far as possible. His eyes grew wide as her small figure stepped elegantly through the door.

"Mother!" Sable nearly choked.

The woman raised her dark eyebrow into a perfect arch. "Have you been slacking of recent? When last I came home there were tales that my son was unbeatable in all combat." A sweet little joking smile grew over her mouth.

Sable rushed over and embraced her. She accepted it with an embrace of her own and a light pat on her son's back.

"How did you manage to arrive so quickly?" Sable asked as the two separated. "Your last message stated that we wouldn't expect you for at least two more days."

"Oh you know, our party was just so very dull, and the messengers had gotten back to us last night within the day. I figured a small little excursion wouldn't do anyone any harm. The king - your uncle had enough babysitters as it was. I doubt I was missed at all." The sly tone refuted her words even as she spoke them, but Sable was beyond caring.

"You snuck out?" He asked, both worried and excited at the same time. "By yourself?"

She nodded. The throaty chuckle of the king punctuating her own amused look. "I can handle a horse just as easily as any of the lads you know, and I must say I look quite striking in a heralds uniform."

Sable gave her a look.

"I do," she stated, meeting his look with one of her own, "If those creamy pants weren't quite as constricting as you men make them, I think I would even consider them for daily wear."

Sable eyed his mother with more than a little skepticism. She wore a dress of several cascading bits of gossamer thin silks. The near transparent shades of pale blue and lilac cloth overlaid into dark indigo. The whole effect made it look like a waterfall was dripping from her chest to her toes yet somehow was very graceful. The severe cut of the bodice and the carefully stitched rouging at the hips and waist made for a pleasant figure, but there wasn't a stitch of give in the whole design. He'd take pants every day over that torture device.

" Well anyway, with the correct garb and a tight little cap for my hair there was no differentiating me from any of the other heralds." His mother continued. " We have a couple smaller boys in training and I wasn't any smaller than them. I took the spare map and removed some of the haughtier tact from my mare and set off. Made it here only an hour ago." She beamed and gently touched her son's face. " Now I come back to see my son has been beaten by some unknown man... Or maybe a woman?" She furrowed her brows with a subtlety eyebrows should not have.

Sable flushed, " Mother, how could you think I let a woman beat me up?"

" I did not mean to hurt your ego." She chuckled, her hand held his chin place as she inspected him. " I just don't know a man who wouldn't aim for the face if the choice arose. Your face doesn't even have a freckle out of place even if the rest of you looks as if you were rolling in the mud with a boar. I'm glad they kept you so pretty, it's useful for your diplomatic appeal. It was very thoughtful of them."