Zorian could see the high towers of the castle ahead, and the lights of the festival. He approached the gates, two guards were stationed, they looked up to Zorian lazily not taking much care to who he was and why he was so late. Zorian traveled down the long pathway to the castle, it was lined with servants holding up flamed torches for light. Zorian made it to castle steps jumping off his steep. “Alright, pirate,” he said to the horse, “it is now or never.” He led the horse to green, cautioning him to stay, he knew he would for he was not a troublesome horse, and would be more than content to stay and graze on the grass.
Zorian looked up to the looming white steps, seeming to be thousands of them. He took a deep breath, then proceeded up, he was almost out of breath as he climbed the last step. He took a moment, his hands leaning on his thighs, he could hear the music playing up on higher level, the strumming of lutes and herpes, he walked up another flight of steps, the doors to the hall that held the festivities was guards by two men, wearing gold painted armor, and swords at their sides. “Evening,” Zorian spoke to the two men, in a forced fake smile.
The men looked at Zorian, “your a bit late, aren’t you?” one said,
“Well funny story there i had no horses and no-” the other men opened the doors as the booming sounds of laughter, chatter and music flooded to him,
“You haven’t missed much,” the other man spoke,
“Just old fools getting drunk,” the other sniggered,
Zorian didn’t say another word to the two men as he walked in, taking in the sight of everything, the first thing he spotted was the feast table lined luxuriously with all types of meat, cake, fruit and vegetable. He saw the circling rotation of servants pouring jugs of wine into peoples glasses, and then saw in the corner of his eyes his stepmother and sister, who stood at the edge of the dancing seemingly searching for someone that he knew full heartedly was the prince.
Zorian found his way down to the hall, heading to the feast table, licking his lips trying to rid them of the drool escaping his mouth. He hungrily drove into the line of food, devouring all he could hold. He noticed people looking his away and thought perhaps it was his bad manners of eating, but he heard whispers soon, and began to stop eating moving away from the tables, he grabbed a glass and had a servant pour him enough wine to grim to the top of the cup.
He took sips and he made his way around the hall, he saw his stepbrother Rob talking with a few ladies and some men too, looking to be having fun, Zorian hardly noticed he had begun to smile at the view. He avoided his stepmother and sister, though at times it was hard to spot them with all masks that the lords and ladies wore. There was a throne at the end of the hall where a man sat, he was old, and gluten, with grey hair, and a round face, he wore a mask akin to a lion, matching his golden clothes. Zorian was distracted by the displeasured expression on the king's face, so much so, Zorianed bumped into someone spilling his wine on them, “gods,” exclaimed, “i was not looking where i was going,” Zorian apologized roughly, looking to seeped red that was soaking into the boys white clothing, “terrible time to decide to wear only white,” Zorian muttered snarkily.
The boy chuckled, “indeed,” he flicked his arms getting rid of any moisture though it had already deeply stained his clothes, the boy looked up to Zorian his smile faded, the boy wore a white mask that covered nearly all his face except for his chin and mouth. “Um-er-” the boy began to stutter, Zorian creased his brows, “A dance!” the boy practically yelled, jolting Zorian a bit,
“A dance?” he questioned,
“Yes, would you like to dance with you,” he managed out awkwardly with a light chuckle.
Zorian smirked, “with me?” he asked in a laugh, looking about seeing eyes still on him,
“you are the most stunning of all here.” the boy said.
Zorian looked to his side, “now i know that isn’t true,” he grumbled, the boy took Zorians hand,
“One, that is all i am asking.”
Zorian sighed, “fine, one.” he told the boy firmly, the boy smiled blazingly, his grin something that left Zorian unsteady. He led Zorian to the many who were dancing, joining in the dance steps, as a new song began to play,
“Do you come to court often?” the boy asked,
“No, and think this will be my last.” Zorian said.
“I hope not,” the boy said softly, “there are still two more days left of the festival.”
Zorian snorted, “I am only here for the wine and food.”
“A fine reason,” the boy smirked. “If you do not come to court then what do you do?”
“Work,” Zorian grumbled out,
“What? Only work?”
“Well i do, do other things,” Zoriain relented, “i go to the tavern mostly with my friend,” he chuckled “and if i have a spare moment then i like sit out on the fields and read, and maybe even go for a ride on my horse.”
“The boy smiled, do you often get drunk?”
“Often,” Zorian smirked, “but most of the time I have to drag and carry my friend back to his loggings before I can really have my way with the ale.”
It was quiet for the moment as they lifted their arms up for the couples to dance their through the arm made archway. “What of you?” Zorian asked the boy, “Do you spend most of your time at court?”
“Most of my time,” the boy sighed, “i actually somewhat live here,”
“Really?” Zorian spoke a bit of interest.
“Yes, I apprenticed, you could say.”
“Doing what?” Zorian asked,
“Um, well i-i-am a-a-squire,” finished, “yes a squire.”
Zorian creased his brows again, “are you sure? Don’t sound certain,”
“Well i squire in a way, i do practice with a sword a lot.”
Zorian snorted, “you don’t mean in brothels do you?” he joked,
“No!” the boy jumped, “no,” he said more gently, “i meant with knights and guards, my swordplay is rather bad.” he admitted.
“I’m no good either,” Zorian said, “my father never taught me.”
“I have feeling if you had, you be a fine swordsmen,”
Zorian scoffed, “that will never happen.” the dance came to an end as each partner bowed to one another,
“May i show you the gardens?” the boy asked,
Zorian shrugged, “is there much else to do?”
“No,” the boy chuckled, taking hold of Zorians wrist guiding him through the crowd and out to the vast gardens.
Zorian looked up to the sky full of stars, he smiled, “I will miss this sky, it was always a nice welcome when coming out of the tavern.”
The boy turned to Zorian, “are planning to go somewhere?”
“Not i,” Zorian sighed, moving past the boy and down the path, “you have nice roses,” he commented, stopping to look at the rose bush, “much like the ones i have at home.”
“The gardens were a favorite of my mother.”
“I can see why,” Zorian smirked, his eyes wondering over the many shrubs, hedges, trees, and flowers. “It’s beautiful,”
“Not as much as you.” Zorian turned back to the boy, swallowing down a lump growing his throat, the boy took hold of Zorians hand, his thumb rubbing over his swollen knuckles. “By far the most handsome in all the hall,” he spoke tenderly,
Zorian looked away, “i am sure that is not true, i had seen lady Gwyneth in there, she is far more pleasing than i.”
“Lady Gwyneth has already all the suitors any could wish for. Besides, had you not noticed how everyone stared as you entered?”
“Perhaps i just look a bit out of place,” he surged sternly,
“No, only in the best way possible.” The boy still held Zorians hand, Zorian turned back to the boy's face, he was about to say something to him, but his eyes caught sight of his step family making their way out the hall.
“Fuck,” he muttered, “fuck, fuck, fuck, their leaving,” he pulled his hand away from the boy quickly, racing through back the gardens, “shit, shit, their leaving!” he yelled,
“Wait!” the boy called behind him, but Zorian ignored the boy running back into the hall, and shoving past the many distracted people, sprinting up the steps and and down the stairs again, passing the two guards, he heaved and huffed as he ran down the steep steps to the green, spotting that Pirate had stayed where he left him. He could see his step family climbing into their cart, as it began to move along the large pathway to the gates.
Zorian rushed to his horse, saddling up, and urged the creature to move as fast it could, they took over the cart and sprinted past the gates. Zorian looked back to the castle with a smirk, fully admitting to himself that he enjoyed his time that night, as he moved through the darkened wood back to Harwood.
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