Amadeus

Long live princess Rovira

There was something to that second princess, the shine of her long dark hair, midnight black eyes — the gentleness in her voice to the curves of her pink lips.

She was curvy, womanhood impersonated in the lines of her body.

She was ripe, ready to be plucked, and now there was nothing left of her.

Not even the aroma of roses that often followed her.

"If you being silent would cost me your life, I'll confess to choosing the silence," Amadeus says, eyes bright and full even in the warming, spring night.

"You were the only one who ever tasted her, and yet you refuse to tell us what we so desperately want to hear," Alexander says, and the knights beside him jostled him.

Amadeus places a hand over his eyes.

It was not abnormal or extraordinary for these warriors to sit around and talk about their softer conquest Particularly when the sores of war began to burn.

They'd tell each other stories, to remind themselves that they were fighting for something.

"It was quite some time ago; I do not recall," Amadeus said, his long black hair being pushed into his face by the wind.

"how do you make such a claim? We aren't of high blood moving from brothels to brothels with a dozen wives at home. What could've filled such a memory in your mind?" Alexander asked, appearing genuinely bewildered.

"plans on how to keep you all alive takes up most of my mind. I lack freedom of thought."

Amadeus lied, he remembers the night he bed the princess.

He doubts if it'd be an exciting story to tell.

" Every time we ask you something, you defer it by saying you're thinking about keeping us alive," Ali said besides Alexander putting more wood into the fire.

"A world where I worry more about women than I do the state of our kingdom is a world where the earth shall burn in everlasting flames while I drink with two whores," Amadeus said before standing. His sizable muscular body towers everyone else's.

"I'll be in my tent for the rest of the night. Keep the fire." He says before walking away.

The knights whisper amongst themselves in his absence.

"Do you think we're going to find her?" Stanford asked Alexander.

"I heard one of the maids saying she doesn't want to be found that she ran off with an elven boy," Ali replied.

Alexander frowned.

"All of that matters not; I trust that we will find her and drag her ass back home."

The morning sun rose with Amadeus already on his horse. He was traveling east from the base where all the other knights lay asleep, Awaiting his call.

There was burning under his skin, something that left him restless all night. He encouraged his hounds to go faster, but they seemed to be at a loss for direction themselves.

Just as they'd been the night before.

He slows down, stepping down from his horse to bring articles of Rovira's clothes for the hounds to smell. They smell the clothes and turn around sniffing in all directions, coming back to their owner as if to say their efforts were for naught.

He brings down the dog food and places it in bowls for the four dogs to eat. Leaving out water as he does.

He feeds his horse too, as they all ate he sits, back pressed against the tree. Eyes closed, listening to his surroundings.