Princessa

The Messenger

A soft tap lilted the door. " who is it?" I answered. "The messenger your grace. He has returned from his mission and wishes your audience" "let him in" I say.
The door etches forward and a young man enters wearing dirty trousers and dirt stained vest. "Sire, the Lord of Gasberg will arrive tomorrow, I have done what you have asked and requested that you wish to speak with him regarding the situation with the barbarians." "Excellent" I say and wave him away with the flick of my hand, he bows and backs into the hallway and the guard closes the door. "excellent" I say again to myselflf as a slight smile lilts my face and I twirl my pen betweens my fingers. Pondering tomorrows meeting I get up and step to the window behind my desk. The window is wide and stretches across most of the back wall. Outside it is autumn, the whole forest beneath my view is covered in leaves of red fire. I call the kitchen master into my study and tell him to prepare a fantastic meal for tomorrow's guests. No doubt the Lord of Gasberg will have assembled an entourage of guards and aides. With the dinner planned I dismiss the kitchen master and call in the court jester, telling him that tomorrow he shall put on a special performance. The jester bows deep and retreats into the hallway. Having felt accomplished and ready for our hosts I head over to the book shelf, searching for the journal that I now write in. I started this book before I was king , before the coup , before I was ever a common name upon the peasants. I started this book when I was a messenger not wholy different from the young man who walked into my study with dirty dressing. I had been a royal messenger to the throne, a position obtained due to fact of my father being the king's advisor on matters of civil interest. I used to carry a leather bag around, worn from the long rides that were requested of me as part of my station, weathered by the snow and rain. I carried that bag everywhere I went, and I still have it to this day, although it no longer carries important messages to and from kings, it sits in the back of my chair here in my study, it's strap draped along the back. When I was a young man I admired the written word and spent many a hour studying books that flitted my fancy, and writing letters of a personal and business related matter. I spent many a day alone, not that I trust friends anyways, being a part of the court taught me that friends do not exist except as part of a naive persons hope. I saw too many personal afflictions stab holes into so called friends backs, too many wives bedding supposed friends. When your a low ranking official it is important to keep your mouth shut when you observe matters that might cause punishment to the offenders, because unless the offender is punished by death he or she will surely find out the who's mouth their secrets were wrought from. I did not learn this first hand, but instead witnessed on multiple occasions.