********* Dear Readers, this is the promised excerpt from the past. Our normal story line is paused for a couple days to bring you this. I am having writer's block on the main story but I still wanted to post something this week.********
The horses neighed and tossed their mains as they came back to the city of their birth. The soldiers had been at battle for five years. They had been tirelessly defending the border, and pushing back the scourge at the edge of the desert sands. Damar pat Sylo's neck gently and the old tan stallion tossed his mane. The scars on the horse's neck were marks from this warr, and the eyepatch over one once sapphire blue eye was another marr to the perfect creature.
Happy and smiling faces, children cheering the return of the soldiers, and their fathers made him think. Damar remembered the day he married her. Five years… he had been married five years and his wife had been alone for all but one day of it. He couldn't help but sigh and rub the back of his neck.
Damar could imagine the hell fire that awaited him. She would no doubt feel she was scorned, and wronged. Then again, he could not really blame her for feeling that way. She had been a rose in her youth, barely fifteen when they had wed, and had only met twice for tea before that. She had been alone and the gods only knew what his family had done to her. He had left Ben to protect her. He was a good man, good at handling mother and keeping eyes on servants. Hopefully he had been able to protect her. Her…. By gods he couldn't remember her name.
This thought lingered in his mind, almost hauntingly. There was a sensation of guilt as he passed into the courtyard. How had he forgotten her name? While he mentally berated himself he road into the palace yard he didn't expect to be greeted by any but his stable hands. He stopped the horse and jumped down rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at the steps.
The courtyard was well kept, and it seemed most of the servants were about their daily duties. He couldn't be too upset, after all he had been gone so long they weren't expecting him for at least another week.
He handed the reins to the man next to him. "I need to go greet my wife. Can you settle the men?" He asked Fior his second in command. The young man chuckled and nodded.
"You mean meet your bride?" He asked hoping to keep it light but the look on his captain's face stopped any further words in his throat. Damar sighed and looked away but pressure on his shoulder drew his eyes back.
"Even from the darkest soil the most beautiful of rose can grow." He advised Damar and the Third Prince just shook his head.
"We will see." Damar replied before turning to walk inside. He proceeded to the central garden, a beautiful space with open air surrounded by the pristine walls of the palace. The fines were well groomed to his preferences and every plant, tree, and flower was expertly tended. Overall it was as though he had never left.
As he passed through besides the familiar pond he saw a woman there kneeling at the water's edge. Long dark hair pulled back into a long braid down her back. She was dressed simply and beautifully. The perfect servant drawing water from the pond.
"Miss, where is the lady of the house?" He asked her. The moment the words left his lips and she looked up at him he wished he could take the words back. There, kneeling at the water's edge was his wife. Those beautiful eyes… the only thing he had remembered the long nights away. Her expression was saddened but he knew she remembered him. The heat of embarrassment traveled up his spine with a vengeance. He coughed slightly, awkwardly as his lady wife stood from the pond. She smoothed her dress and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
She greeted him without hesitation. A curtsey and soft smile before taking his hand. Her fingers were delicate and warm as they held his calloused palm lightly. It was a simple form of contact, the most formal of the greetings between a husband and wife. It stung a little but he accepted it and took her hand, raising it to place a kiss to the back of it. Her scent replaced the blood and dirt of the battlefield. "Melania." He whispered, remembering her name and she offered a smile.
"Damar." She replied in the same hushed tone. "Welcome home, and congratulations on your Victory, My Prince."
The guilt was there again. This was their home, and yet she had lived here alone. The kindness in her eyes wasn't fake, he had spent enough time with people who hid their true intentions to be fooled. This woman truly cared for him. How, he had no idea.