The Prince was walking his riding horse at a trot, scanning up and down the line of his bodyguard, and the line of the march. He gave smiles, waved his hands at friends in the ranks, and reared his horse. In the prideful display, the dragon priests of the Nine Dragon Gods looked downcast. They despised sin, pride and arrogance chiefly amongst them. Yarogeth had no care for them.
He beckoned to Thressa, who was talking to her ladies in the march. She came to him at a canter. Her horse was lathered already with sweat, but the canter was flawless. She kicked her spurs into its sides and let it gallop up the lush, green meadow to him.
Thressa slowed a few horse lengths away, and then lined up next to him. "My Prince?" she asked, and leant across to plant a kiss on his cheek.
He was ecstatic, and completely overjoyed because of the march. "Is this not a thing of wonder, my love? All this will one day be mine. A large host, loyal subjects," he snorted, "and a loving wife," he described vividly whilst glancing at her. "Would that not be a thing of wonder, my Lady?"
"It is, my lord. Though I suspect that something is amiss. You have an absent look in your eyes ..." she cocked her head, and looked him straight into his bright, brown eyes. So beautiful, he pondered.
"You look most beautiful when you do that, Thressa. But yes, you are right, something is troubling me. Kalagarr wanted me to perform castings on my own, and pushes me beyond my limit. I end up exhausted, over-tired, and weak in the knees. It is not fair." He sat back, and pouted.
"Life is unfair, my Prince."
"You're mean," he teased. "Do you know what I do to mean people?"
"I do not know, what do you do to them?" She was taking this seriously, but the Prince did not realise.
"Have a guess," he smirked, surveying the armour and banners of many Frisian knights.
"A normal man would not talk to them, but you are not normal, my sweet. You are the Prince and far above any normal man. That is my answer. The others I shall keep in my head, as there are unseemly and unfit for a woman to utter."
He stopped looking at the army, and turned in the saddle to look at her. That was no mean feat caked, as he was, cap a pied, in armour. "Tell me these others answers," he responded flatly.
"I'd rather not say what you can do to mean people. And by extension ..... me."
"Hypothetically speaking then. What do you think I could do, if let's say, that person was you?"
"You could kill me. Of course you wouldn't do that." She said that shakily, but her voice was level. If it came to your life over the welfare of the Realm, my sweet, I do not know what I would do. "You would have to find a suitable punishment for my station in life."
"How can I punish such splendor and beauty?"
"Many ways, my lord. You could indeed be punishing me right now. With all your teasing."
"In what specific way?" He was enjoying the debate. Not one lover ever having such a deepened discussion with him. He was loving it.
"Are you going to keep asking questions?" she snapped.
"Of course," he replied non-chalantly, and with a flourish of his hand. "I do love questions."
"My Prince, if you'll permit me, I'll tell you some advice my Father had given me." He nodded. "He had said, 'If you have to ask, you’ll never know. If you know, you need only ask.' I hope you can understand it better than myself."
He laughed loudly. "If ever I heard a circle argument before, it is right there. And therefore, contradictory."
She looked sullen. "I've always been trying to understand it."
YOU ARE READING
A Tale of Two Realms: Written in the Hand of your Servant. Part 2:
Historical Fiction"The boy has powers, I'll give you that. But what can he give to my realm?" said the King. "Everything," replied William, with flat eyes. "More than you could ever give." "Burn him," commanded the King. A boy is born with extraordinary powers in the...
