A Tale of Crowns and Stars

Gifts & Weddings

The group met at the stables the next morning, Cyra dressed in her hand-me-down gown, and Halewijn head-to-toe in a black riding ensemble. His horse was white with golden hair and barely moved as they waited for everyone to arrive. He sat upon his horse - already mounted - looking down at Cyra from his sitting position with a smile.

"Green is one of your many flattering colors, Princess," Hal called out to her, allowing everyone else to hear him. Cyra blushed and tucked her crop under her armpit, smiling her thanks at the prince.

"Black isn't one of your favorites, I imagine. I've never seen you wear it." The golden sun brooch on his shoulder glinted in the sunlight as he made his way to her, his horse moving slowly, systemically.

"No. I prefer brighter colors. But since we are going for an extended ride today, I would assume black would be more fitting than bright orange attire." Wyndemere appeared to help her onto the brown mare, holding onto her waist as she hoisted herself up onto the saddle. When she was settled, she looked over to Halewijn, who guided his horse alongside hers. It took the white-haired twins mere moments to climb upon their black horses, their swift movements practiced and methodical. 

"Are you ready?" Alorha called over his shoulder.

"Ready," Halewijn replied, and they took off in the direction of the palace gates. The first leg of the trip was silent as they passed the inner gates into the outer courtyard. When they reached the entrance to the city, Wyndemere and Alorha adjusted their weapons - small but deadly daggers - so that they were visible in the sunlight. Cyra hated the display of potential for violence, but it was necessary for those who would seek to take advantage of two royals on an excursion.

Halewijn turned to her as soon as they crossed into the city, passing by the city dwellers' homes. "I hope you don't mind... I brought some things for the children in the square." She then noticed a small coin purse tucked halfway into his pocket: that, and a bag attached to his mare.

"I don't mind at all. I'm sure your generosity will go far." The thought of Halewijn being generous with those who were not yet his subjects made her feel some warmth towards him. Her days had been filled with little discoveries about Halewijn, but now... now she anticipated seeing him as a High Prince, and not just a suitor.

The road to the square, paved with cobblestones, was littered with common folk doing their daily work. None of this surprised the royals, and neither did their presence surprise the commoners. A few children did point and marvel at the beautifully dressed man and woman on their high beasts, though. Cyra smiled at whoever she could, hoping someone might smile back. A few did, but most bowed or curtsied as they passed, avoiding eye contact.

The square wasn't far from the gates. When they arrived, they dismounted, and the royal guard took their horses to find water. Cyra turned to look at Halewijn, who shouldered the bag from his horse's back. He began to walk toward the fountain and, along the way, gathered a following of young children. Some played about Cyra's skirts as they walked, not speaking to her, but all clamored to shout welcomes to the High Prince. Hal laughed and replied to everyone, sitting on the fountain's broad edge before removing his bag.

"I had requests from many of you last time, so let's see what I brought..." The children crowded around him, each eager to see if their request had been answered. Halewijn rustled around in his bag dramatically before bringing out a small doll, the kind of toy a young girl would ask for. He whispered in the doll's nonexistent ear before putting it up to his ear as if it could talk.

"This doll says it belongs to Ulana... Ulana, is that true?" A girl with two blonde braids in her hair bounced forward, eagerly taking the doll from him before whispering her thanks and skipping off. And so for the majority of the time spent there, Hal gave away presents to the gathered children, from little trinkets to a new coat for the coming winter. When the bag was empty, only a young boy was left, his face expressionless. He approached Halewijn silently and sat next to him, his fingers dirty and shoes worn thin.