Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Here he was, the future king, walking in proudly, with a smirk that showed his excitement. Unlike everyone who dressed in ceremonial outfits, his was an intricate armor of bronze with gold chasing that glittered under the sun's light seeping in through the large windows. His face and silver hair, were stained with dust and blood, even his armor was covered in the stain of blood.

"Forgive me good lords and nobel ladies, some men in the city needed reminding why the king's knights should be feared" Lauryn said daunty but with a cheerful smile. Some lords cheered, lifting their cups to him, and then the ladies began their whispers in hush tunes, giving him ogling eyes.

Three fellow knights walked in behind him, also stained in mud and blood. Sir Rowry was amongst them, but the only knight dressed in black armor. The knights must be returning from taking down the large bandits who raided the city last night, Viera thought. She had heard her father discuss it earlier before the feast.

"Beer" Lauryn called out, staggering a little to the royal table. He felt almost drained out in exhaustion from the long fight, and needed urgently a drink. A serving boy rushed to him with a filled goblet and the prince yanked it from his hand, and drank instantly. 

Refreshed, the knightly prince, proceeded to his seat, bowing first before king Raides. 

"Are you alright princess?" Ross asked, realising she was still staring at the prince.

She looked at him, and offered a pretentious smile. "Thank you for the dance my lord" she said instead, feeling she had danced enough, and then turned away to leave the dance floor.

Ross called after her, pulling her back into his arms. The strength of his pull brought her chest slamming into his, and their faces a kissing distance close. For a moment Viera felt captivated, almost getting aroused by this man. The lord was dreadfully handsome, no denial in that, but she refused to be swoon over by him. 

If it wasn't for his wealth and influence across the continent, she was certain her father would never had chosen him to wed his only daughter. A man who couldn't resist anything that moved in skirt, with lovers and whores in large numbers at his castle. It was no secret to anyone, and Ross seemed proud of it.

"The dance is not yet over" the lord smirked.

"I do not wish to continue" Viera resisted his gaze, but Ross still held her in his arm. "I believe you do not desire to hold the princess against her will" she questioned with a threatening look.

The lord gave a slight nod in agreement, gently releasing her from his soft grip. "My apologies, princess" He said, but she ignored him, and strolled away.

She walked up to Sir Rowry standing at a corner with a goblet. He had a few ladies around him, but he seemed unfazed to their flirtatious act.

"You have quite the number of admirers" Viera said smiling. The knight bowed with a knee down, and the ladies gave their courtsey. "Leave us" she told and the ladies obeyed without a fuss.

She traced his forehead with her fingers, noticing the cut above his right brow. "You're wounded" 

"It's not too serious, princess" Rowry assured, his voice, deep and calm. It was a light cut that was sure to heal soon. "I've had wounds much worse" he smirked. 

"I'm sure you have" The princess returned his smile and then a young bard began playing his lute, singing tales of her uncle's glorious fights. The boy was twenty, but with the face of a ten year old. Garth the humble bard, people called him.

Viera looked away from the singer, distasteful. It wasn't the boy who provoked her, but his song, which she knew were mostly lies. Lauryn had never fought in any real wars, only ever battling bandits and rebellious groups. The prince was a man too self centered and aggravating, most lords disliked him, least of all, the princess. The men only wore pretentious smiles around him, and for the ladies, all they wanted was to be queen even if it meant tolerating the obnoxious prince.

And here the bard was, singing praises for the man, with every one cheering.

"I wish he could just choke on his tongue" Viera exclaimed unintentional, irritated as the bard went on.

"I could have it cut out right now if the princess commands" 

A smile escaped her lips. Rowry knew his ways with words, and she couldn't help think that he meant it.

"The princess would rather you keep your head Sir Rowry" she said almost joking, knowing if he did as he said, the king would have his head. The twenty year old bard was her father's favorite, and she couldn't blame the king, the bard's voice was a sweet melody, and no bard praises men like he did. 

From where lord Ross stood, she caught him flirting with a blonde haired serving lady at a partially enclosed corner. It shouldn't bother her, but it did. The man had no regard for their betrothal, he was already at his wits to bed a new lady, mocking her before those who saw him.

A few ladies stared her way gossiping, and she left the hall hastily, feeling her anger swell inside her. Rowry followed in a heartbeat, joining her walk through the hall way. "Is something wrong, princess?" 

"I needed to take a break" she said, slowing down her pace. "Tell me Sir Rowry, have you ever been betroth?"

The question caught him by surprise. "No I haven't, princess."

"Well, have you ever been in love?"

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He looked at her, reluctant to answer. "Once" he replied, going silent for a moment as if drowning in his thoughts. "Before I joined the knight's call."

"What happened?" She let free her curiosity. 

"Like all pirates, she chose the sea instead" he told and then offered a faint smile, wanting to say no more.

They stopped shortly at the large opened balcony overlooking the castle's main courtyard. The noon was still fresh, and the wind soothing. The voices from the grand hall could still be heard from where they stood, and prince Lauryn's laughter was the loudest.

"I wonder what it's like" her eyes gazed down at the servants watering the flowers of the courtyard. "I've read it's beautiful when you fall in love, sadly I fear I might never truly know"

"Lord Ross is quite the charmer, I'm sure you'll learn to love him, princess"

She looked at him as if to bark at his statement, but she said nothing and turned back to stare at the servants.

"I will never love that man" she said with utmost certainty, turning away from the balcony, and making her way back to the grand hall.

She met Garth still singing. His song had fourty verses, but she returned when he was only at the twenty seventh. It felt like a hundred verses to the princess, as she eagerly waited for the song to be over, drinking her way through the last five, which seemed as though it would never end.

Soon it was over, and the princess was glad. Prince Odis had been seated besides her, but she hadn't notice his presence until he called upon a serving boy to refill his cup. They never got along, and just like she and her father, he had red hair as well, which he kept short. The man was often quite, but despite his gentle nature, he was as much of a tyrant as Lauryn, even more cruel some had whispered.

"Which do you prefer?"

"Excuse me?" Viera asked confused.

"The verses" Odis told, "which did you prefer?" 

"None frankly speaking" she confessed, taking down a sip of her wine.

"Me neither" He gave a smile, raising his cup to her, and then went back to being silent. 

The seventh meal course came in, as the main entertainment trooped into the hall. Juggling dancers, pyromacers and jugglers flowed to the dance floor as the dishes were being served— Boiled crabs draped in delightful western spice, roasted turkey, sweetened in peach sauce, and brown pies with more ale and wine filled their tables as the previous dishes were being taken away. 

The dancers performed their acts, juggling with swords, as the pyromacers conjured up animals and beasts from flames. 

Lauryn cheered, flooding his throat with more wine. "My lady" he yelled, noticing his wife's plate had not been touched. "Is the meal not to your liking?" 

She replied putting on a smile."I'm saving the appetite, there are more courses to be served" 

"You would want to taste the crabs, it's delicious I tell you" he told her, slowly beginning to cough.

He swallowed in more wine, and kept on eating, until it became more profound, and then he began patting his chest, in attempts to sooth the cough.

"Are you alright uncle?" Viera asked.

"Yes......dear.....niece" he coughed between each word. He hurriedly drank the wine yet again, but the cough only got worse and his face slowly turned pale. The goblet dropped from his hand, as his fingers clawed around his neck. "He's choking" Viera told worried, as everyone turned instantly to the prince.

Lauryn rose from his seat, as blood began splashing out with every cough.

"I...can't... breath" he squealed with all effort, and then fell to his back. 

Lady Irene his wife, went on her knees beside him, confused and scared for her husband. Lauryn's eyes met Viera's, and it made her shiver. He was dying, and she could only stand in shock, staring frozen at the man. 

Everyone stood up worried, slowly approaching their table. Viera turned around and made a hasty walk to the door. Her heart pounded, her fingers trembled, she feared for her uncle's life but she could not bare to watch.

As she neared the door she heard Irene's scream, and came to an abrupt stop. Prince Lauryn was dead.

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