𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄

18

Bridget sprang from her bed, already awake. She didn't need a clock to know it was time.

She poured steaming water from a pitcher into her small tub, added a splash of rosewater for scent, and slipped in with a contented sigh.

A soft smile played on her lips as she sank into the warm water, humming a tune under her breath.

After her bath, she towelled off quickly, donning her simple maid's uniform.

She finished tying her apron strings just as a rooster crowed in the distance, signaling the start of a new day.

She paused for a moment, hands resting on the cool stone sill of her window, gazing out at the kingdom beginning to stir beneath the fading stars.

Before the first light of dawn, the woman slipped out. She moved, her breath misting slightly in the chill morning air. The palace was still mostly asleep, only a few early risers like herself stirring about.

She padded towards the hallway that would take her towards the royal family's chambers. Along the way, she passed a few fellow servants hurrying about their tasks.

Bridget spotted a maid carrying a golden plate bearing a jug and glass. She approached her and said, "Oh, is that for the Grand Prince? Let me take it from here. I'll handle it, thank you."

The maid eyed her strangely as if in judgement. She stated, "The Grand Prince isn’t even in the palace...And this..." she gestured to the tray with a jerk of her head, "is for Her Majesty."

A chuckle escaped the woman's lips as she asked, " Ohh, right right? The Grand Prince must be with the Prince Christopher."

"No, he's on a hunt with Master Wesley, and don't waste my time," the maid rolled her eyes and shook her head before walking away.

"A hunt," Bridget smirked before walking off.

✮✮✮

"Your Highness seems rather... distracted this morning. The royal duties in the castle not meeting your expectations?" - Master Wesley, with a teasing glint in his eye.

Adjusting his gloves, the Grand Prince straightened in his saddle, a faint blush touching his cheeks as he met Wesley's teasing gaze with a wry smile.

"Hardly, Wesley. It's just that certain matters back at the palace require... delicate attention. But enough of that. Today we hunt."

Wesley chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, "Indeed, Your Highness. Today we hunt."

The Grand Prince, Vincent, suddenly stilled, his head snapping to the side as an unfamiliar sensation washed over him. A faint, musky scent carried on the breeze, setting his senses on high alert.

Wesley followed Vincent's gaze, seeing the Prince slowly turn his horse's reins towards the dense thicket. He drew his hunting horn to his lips, signaling the other huntsmen to hold their positions. "Your Highness?"

Vincent silently reached behind his back, drawing his recurve bow and knocking an arrow. He pointed at a particularly dense tree, his eyes locked on the spot where he sensed movement.

Suddenly, with a thunderous roar that shook the very leaves from the trees, a lion emerged from its hiding spot, its golden mane glinting in the dappled sunlight. The massive beast paused, nostrils flaring as it caught the scent of the hunters.

The lion's muscular body tensed, ready to pounce, its amber eyes fixed on Vincent sitting atop his horse. Wesley drew his sword, ready to intervene, but Vincent held up a gloved hand, signaling him to wait.