Fantasy On Inglemere's Sunny Shores

[Kekse]

Spring had blossomed over the rocky crags and wave-beaten shores of Inglemere practically overnight. Lillies and heather blossoms brightened the sweeping green plains, which stood in stark contrast to the shimmering azure of the ocean below. From the castle parapets one could see the ships coming and going at the port city of Reef to the south and the spires of the university in Briarhaven to the north.

Sir Edelvard Van Melo stood on said southern parapet, watching as the foreign flags fluttered in the sea breeze. He had counted no fewer than six different nation ships sailing around the Valerian Archipelago and into the bay before they disappeared from view. This spring's festival promised to be the best their generation had ever seen, and he could feel the excitement roiling in his belly just thinking about it. With the sheer number of nations sailing in, the offerings of goods should be more exorbitant than anything he had previously experienced.

And with the festival came the tournament. The foreign food and goods were exciting, but the chance to unhorse new and unsuspecting opponents brought a smile to his youthful face. And surely the princess would be at such an important tournament! It was true that such tournaments were plentiful on these shores, but not every day were there new challengers. Perhaps he would even find a true challenge!

The best part? The next full moon was not for a full three weeks. Edelvard's hand went subconsciously to the scar hidden on his shoulder beneath the tunic he wore, his constant reminder of what had happened to him while he was in training. "Sir? The queen would have audience with you now." The voice startled the knight, who dropped his hand quickly and turned on his heel to look at the servant, who watched him expectantly. "Are you ready? I would take you to her now."

"Yes, lead the way." Edelvard straightened his shoulders and followed the young man into the castle proper, a million thoughts racing in his head. This was why he had returned, but he couldn't help feeling a little nervous. Would the princess recognize him? Would she still...care about him? It had been many years since they had been pulled away from their childhood games of pulling sticks and building mud castles to become proper adults. But the king and queen had asked specifically for him to become the princess's champion now that she had come of age, and it was an honor he was willing to bear.

 

[Zubyn]

Within the great dome of the royal palace, a lone woman lie in wait. Perched upon the great throne beside two others was a tan-skinned woman with long, dark hair. Her dress free-flowing to adhere to her more voluptuous, filled body, as always. She drummed fingers, well, save the stubbed index upon the arm of the lavish seat. With an eager smile upon her lips, she glanced up to the great stained-glass window above, beyond the iron-cast crest of sword and rivets of water. Even through the countless colors casting their rainbow down upon the hall, she could tell it wouldn't be long before her company was here. How long had it been since there had been proper knighthood within these towering walls of wood and marble? She couldn't remember.

The middle-aged queen chuckled as she remembered the conversation she had just finished with her youngest daughter. Despite her lack of enthusiasm with the social season, she was sure today would be a day her daughter would finally wear that sharp-toothed smile of hers. She knew where her daughter's heart truly lay. There would be no long faces during the upcoming festivities, and, in her opinion, the far more important celebration, she would be sure of it. No matter what her iron rod of a husband had to say about it. As her youngest had so eloquently put it: "I'm sure a half-starved bear has more sense of humor than he does."

With another earthy, airy breath of amusement, she focused her gaze back upon the great, dark metal gates that were sure to open any moment now. Still, she knew she'd made the right call by holding off on the audience with her daughter in attendance. It had gotten later than intended as it is and didn't need her youngest restlessly pacing the hall the entire time. Besides, it was supposed to be a surprise gift.

 

[Kekse]

Edelvard entered the familiar throne room and found a bright smile crossing his features. The sheer amount of memories he had in this room swirled around in his brain like the colorful kaleidoscope of the past. He stopped in front of the queen and bowed deeply, the tip of his sword reaching nearly a 90 degree angle with the floor. "I am grateful for the trust that you are placing on me, your highness. Has the princess been informed yet of the arrangement?"

Truly, the knight hoped that this was all going to be a surprise. It would so perfectly mirror the relationship the pair had as children. They would constantly jump out and startle each other or bring homemade gifts of carved sticks or drawings as a surprise. This would definitely be the ultimate surprise, in his eyes. But...would the princess be excited? Would she even remember him? He looked very little like the scraggly and scrawny blonde boy of his youth. His chest and arms had filled out and grown hard through hours of physical exertion and his chiseled chin sported a well-kept hint of a short beard.

 

[Zubyn]

The queen beckoned the knight with her hand to stride forward. "Come, boy. We are not strangers. Let me look at you," Her smile grew as she looked upon him. "As for your question, no, she has not. I figured you both would be pleased with the...surprise. I admit that this is the entire reason I had the date of this year's festival pushed back. This—" She paused, a somewhat mischievous glint in her eyes as she gestured a hand to his form, "—well, rather, you, will make an excellent birthday present, don't you think?" Her lips pursed as her smile grew. She couldn't wait to see the look on her daughter's face when she would see in just a couple of moments.

"Tell me, what are you feeling right now? Excitement? Nervousness, perhaps?" She looked down at Edelvard as if teasing one of her own. To her, he always was. No matter how much her husband disapproved. It brought her just as much joy to see him grown as it did for her own daughters. "I imagine Katærine's feelings would reflect with your own had I told her beforehand. I think we both can agree we'd favor her surprise over her anxiety, though." She cast a glance to a door upon the adjacent wall to the thrones' pedestals. She was no fool. She knew her daughter well. "How long should we wait, do you think?" Her teeth began to show into a sly, amused grin lightly.

 

[Kekse]

Edelvard broke into an easy laughter, growing more comfortable in the presence of the queen when she lightened up the atmosphere with familiarity. "Well, I can't say I've ever been given as a gift, but at the risk of sounding too pompous...I do agree that I make a rather excellent birthday present." He gave a confident wink and rested his weight on his back foot, crossing his arms over his chest and considering the queen's question. How /did/ he feel, when he really thought about it? "Definitely excitement. I suppose there might be a little bit of nervousness, but at the same time, it's not like I'm meeting a stranger."

He shifted his weight a little, continuing to make eye contact with the queen. "If she is anything like the princess I knew when we were children, she would already be planning out how to boss me around. Not that I ever minded." He gave Morgana a cheeky grin and brushed his hand through his short, blonde hair. "I think it would be fun for me to stand with the regular guards during the feast, to leave her wondering just a little longer what her birthday gift will be. Perhaps I could even stand at my soon position at her right hand during the meal. I would find it quite amusing for her to find out that I'd been there the entire time." The guards always kept their helms on during ceremonial or celebratory gatherings, after all, and such a thing would allow him to keep his identity hidden until the proper moment.

 

[Zubyn]

Queen Morgana's chest flexed with a bark of a laugh. "It would appear you've been putting much thought into this! Hah, I've expected as much." Her hands clasped together, fingers locking. She looked to be just as excited, perhaps even more so. Even she couldn't hide how giddy she'd felt about imagining how everything was going to play out. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a second to calm her previously elevated, borderline-shaky voice. Thank goodness she hadn't brought her husband in. He would've had a royalty-class fit, she was sure. "That's a wonderful idea. I was also thinking about reserving it until then. Though, you may be ending up closer than what would be considered...formal."

She paused for a moment, her choice of words clearly a euphemism. With now serious, borderline peeved eyes, she continued, "My...intelligent husband has decided to push the opening ceremony and the name day feast into the same occasion. While I question the supposed practical liberty he's taking with such a grand arrangement; I admit it provides for an excellent opportunity for our little...surprise." Her serious demeanor faded away back into her motherly softness, a gentle smile upon her lips. "A bit unorthodox, but you are expected to be... 'with' the family. Byron, as restless as he already is, has been eagerly awaiting your arrival as well." Morgana gauged Edelvard's reaction. She knew she'd almost choked back on her wine when he'd blurted out the announcement near first thing in the morning.

 

[Kekse]

The euphemism brought a blush to the knight's cheeks, less because of the thought of what the queen was suggesting and more because he had definitely been thinking about what the queen was insinuating. It disappeared nearly immediately as the queen continued. His brows furrowed and he felt a sigh building in his chest. "Whatever the king deems fit," he finally replied, trying his best to remain unfazed by the announcement. He couldn't stop his eyes from betraying his surprise, however. "Just lead me where you need me to be, and explain what you want me to do. I am unwaveringly at the service of the royal family."

And he meant it. Edelvard stood more fully at attention and waited for the queen to give him his instructions. As the shock wore off, the excitement of seeing his childhood playmate again began to seep into the cracks of his being. Would things go as well as he and the queen hoped? The only way to find out was to let the situation play out, he supposed, so with a sigh he attempted to dispel any nerves and allow the excitement to take the forefront.

 

[Zubyn]

The Queen's look reflected an equal amount of perplexion. Drumming her fingers against her cheek for a moment, she recalled the specifications of the occasion. Or, in this case, the near-complete lack thereof. "Which leads me to my next point," She began with a mildly exasperated breath. Sometimes, she wondered how that man ran his own country without her. "Byron...has been especially lacking in this year's preparation. Many would refer to it as an announcement, but I think a blurt of breezed thought is more accurate. How imperative of him to make arrangements so late..." She brought up a hand to pinch her nose. It took a moment for her to regain a more calmed composure, a sigh escaping her nose to refresh herself. "Truthfully, we've had less than three days to prepare for tomorrow. As a result, the entire arrangement's nature is hidden to my daughters. You may choose to take your place at the foot announcement pedestal or aside Katærine's side at the feast. Consider this choice personal compensation from me for the suddenness of the change." Truthfully, she felt her heart tug with guilt. The opening ceremony would become a tad convoluted this year and had been a burden upon nearly all of their shoulders. She hoped Edelvard could keep his conviction in the face of it.

"For today, though, I give you the liberty to do what you'd like. With the suddenness of all of this and on account of your long travel, I imagine you're going to need your rest. The coming days are going to be busy for us all." Finally, her eyes softened, airing themselves of the doubtless stress she'd been feeling preparing everything so last-minute. "Trust in me. Whatever it is you decide, you have the freedom from the entire Royal Family to do so." That mischievous glint in her eyes returned. "Perhaps take a peek at the one you've been so eager to see?"

 

[Kekse]

Edelvard nodded and a sigh escaped from his lips. This was all so much in so little time. However, he put on his winning smile and did his best to think logically. "I think I should be in my appointed place at the foot of the pedestal. I must not start my appointment with a lack of duty, after all."

He honestly felt better with the decision being made, but that did not relieve the fatigue of travel. "If you don't mind, I feel that a warm bath and a long rest would be in my best interest. I should forbear from sneaking peeks until the given time." He said the words with conviction, but that didn't mean he didn't silently hope that the pair of them might accidentally collide sometime that evening.

 

[Zubyn]

Queen Morgana dipped her head, both a motion of confirmation and approval. "Of course. Should the curiosity ebb away at you," She gestured to the side door, where the maze of great polished hallways lie beyond. "Feel free to make yourself at home again. It might as well be, soon." Her eyes twinkled with a certain gentleness, a kind only a mother could possess. Her gaze lingered upon the knight as if she wished to say more. Instead, her lips raised into a pressed smile, warm and welcoming.

After a moment, her gaze shifted to the door as she brought her hands together. The sound that resonated through the room was sharp and purposeful. The door of wrought wood, framed within dark iron, swung open, and in came a tall man. His stature was lean-muscled, though not quite lanky. His face was angular with a sharp-cutting jaw, and no marks marred his face. His golden eyes were sharp, as piercing as steel. He appeared to be quite young, though the sharp, long tips of his ears indicated possible decades a man's senior, if not the centuries equal to the queen herself. He was clad in what seemed to be a strange mix of nobleman's attire mixed with a typical servant's coat.

His cold gaze briefly flicked over to the Queen before settling onto Edelvard's person. Or more accurately, through him, as if he were trying to cut away all armor and clothing, even flesh. To stare him down to his very core, to judge whatever he saw within. The stereotypical face of an unwelcoming Elf, he didn't appear to approve of whatever he saw.

"Megor will show you to the bathhouse of our halls and your quarters. If there are any immediate concerns you may have about anything, he's the man to ask. While all of us will be busy in the upcoming week, he'll be readily available," she explained. As Morgana lowered her hands to rest idly in front of her chest, Megor bent forward into a stiff, curt bow, lids closed for a moment, a brief respite from his not quite glare. A gesture only made clearly out of obligation. When he straightened, his brows lifted into an expectant look. It had a certain edge to it, almost patronizing as he gestured out with long, thin fingers.

"Sir knight, if you would. This way."

 

[Kekse]

Edelvard chose to keep his mouth closed, simply nodding and following Megor out of the room. They passed through the very familiar surroundings at a meaningful pace, passing the tapestries of the court's history and the armory where the suits of armor owned by past heroes stood sentinel. The knight couldn't help but feel like he was walking through a dream. Some things he was positive he had only dreamed actually did exist exactly where the back of his memory told him they should be, which brought him more comfort than he expected. Megor, as expected, did not make any idle conversation. He simply flitted down the hallways toward the bath houses.

They stopped outside the southern bath house and the elf gestured inside. "Thank you," Edelvard replied, tipping his head slightly out of respect and stepping into the steamy room. The sloping ceiling flew high above him and occasionally dripped from the condensation gathering and cooling sufficiently against the stone. In the center of the room was the source of the humidity: A large pool of water, heated naturally by a volcanic vein deep in the earth. Towels sat on a nearby stand, along with flakes of soap and robes. The knight sighed happily and began to strip from his travel-stained clothing.

His chain mail clattered on the stone, echoing in the chamber as if chastising him for treating it poorly. "Sorry," he muttered to nobody in particular, pulling the shirt over his back and dropping it in the pile. His breeches and underclothes came next, leaving him bare and ready for his swim. He placed his toes carefully in the edge of the water, finding it quite pleasurable to the touch. A shiver raced up and down his spine and it activated his smile when it reached his head. "A warm bath...it's been years." The knight slipped quietly into the bath, burying himself in the water up to his chin. Another ripple of pleasure rumbled his nervous system and he closed his eyes, leaning against the bath wall. A sigh slipped through his lips and he pulled in a deep breath laced with steam before slipping down beneath the surface of the water.

 

[Zubyn]

Queen Morgana sighed at the Magor's usual disposition after the two had cleared from the main audience room. "My goodness. What am I going to do with you..." She trailed off, muttering to nothing. With a shake of her head and as her long, dark reddish-brown locks waved behind her, she exited the room herself.

---

Down the cascading hallways of polished marble, past the arching windows dyed with oranges and yellows, stood a lone woman. Currently standing in a dress coat and fine trousers, a pair of dark, normally wide eyes narrowed at the scene below the castle walls, outside the window. Her hair was dark, much darker than the Queen's. A stark black that only colored brown in the brightest of sunlight. Her slim fingers drummed against the frame of the window, an idle, moderately agitated tick. Outside, the subject of her fixed glare was the ships that had come in for the festival. A spring festival, which, by extension, was held in her honor. Especially this year. Why her father had insisted on merging the Nameday celebration and traditional spring festival into one occasion was beyond her. "Ridiculous," her normally light voice dripped with contempt.

Despite her words, she was looking forward to it. She always did. Her lids eased their assault over her dark brown orbs as she thought of the bulk of this year's festivities. Goods, food, and commerce, yes, but more importantly, the tournaments. Finally, after a year of waiting, she'd be able to look upon the knights. Oh, how she longed to look upon those sets of literal shining armor, and oh, how beautiful those blades in their hands were. The princess's lips turned up into an unrestrained smile at the thought. They're always so beautiful..., She thought to herself. In recent years, she'd found herself becoming fixated with the dance of the noble knights. Yes, she knew it was all the same to them. Maybe all they cared about was the money or beating the sense out of their rival's heirs and now grown squires. Whatever the men's squalls, she didn't pay any mind. The opportunity to hear the keens of steel in her ears was enough. Enough to endure the lessons in etiquette, the feigned everyday courtesies, and the dreaded social season.

Her own thoughts sent a shudder through her shoulders, the reminding claws of the season making her back stiff. The season. The absolute worst thing about being anywhere close to the social hierarchy, in her opinion. The countless sea of suitors that cared only for deals, advantage, or in the worst cases, a woman to squeeze in his hands. Another shudder racked her, crawling its scratchy legs up to the nape of her neck, making her hairs stand up. She brought up a hand to smack at the back of her skin as if a spider really were crawling up her spine. "At least it's over...for now," she both tried to assure herself and begrudgingly admitted. Everything this year seemed early. Usually starting this month, April, the season had instead been in swing for nearly two months already. She was more than thankful to have a break. Her stomach threatened a churn at the very thought of having to allow another pair of lips upon her small hands. It was both unwanted and embarrassing.

"Katærine," A warning voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Exasperated, as if having tried to get the young woman's attention for a good while.

The Princess whipped her head around with her eyes momentarily squeezed shut as she yelped, startled out of her brooding. "Ah! Wh-... O-Oh, mother. S-Sorry, I was..." She trailed off as she repeatedly stumbled over her words, not expecting her mother to be right there in her face.

"I know full well what you were doing. Don't burden the poor window with your grumblings." Morgana crossed her arms; an amused brow quirked down at her youngest daughter. Though her tone was initially impatient, it carried a more mischievous air.

"I wasn't-" At another raise of her mother's brows, Katærine sighed. She couldn't hide it from her, she knew. She was right there, apparently. "I'm sorry. I just...I don't understand why father decided to squish everything together. It's idiotic," Katærine grumbled with a mild frown, her lips slanted to almost appear into a pout.

"Neither do I," Her Elvish mother admitted. "However, either way, the celebrations begin tomorrow. You need to get your rest."

Katærine lowered her head slightly as her eyes grew droopy with guilt. She knew what the emphasis there meant. It was true; she knew she was the star of the event and all. Even if that part completely evaded her comprehension. "I know, I know..." She sounded effectively reprimanded as if she were still the younger girl getting scolded for swiping Smallcakes. A brief moment of silence, and she spoke up again. "...Can you at least tell me what it is?"

"What what is?"

Another sigh from the Princess. "You know what. You've been so...secretive and wispy these past few weeks. It's about the present, isn't it?" Katærine's tone shifted from exasperated to genuinely inquisitive.

"Now, now, you know everything is meant to be a surprise. You've gifts from your father as well, you know."

Katærine's shoulders hunched into a slouch. Yep, she figured. There was no budging from her mother. "Ugh, fine... You better not make it weird, at least..." Her eyes lifted to her mother's face with defeated disgruntlement. Morgana met her expression with a sly, smug one. Eyes narrowed and canines showing through a grin. She's definitely made it weird. That's the only time she ever looks at me like that...

"I'd never dream of it. Now, off to bed. I'm turning in as well," Morgana gently gave Katærine a nudge with fingers to her tiny shoulders. With a silent nod as her reply, Katærine paced off down the hallway. Slowly, of course. She was going to bed, but that didn't mean she couldn't take her time.

Liar. Though, if you're going to bed already, then there's already nothing I can do... I guess I'll have to do my best to survive tomorrow, She grumbled in her head.