Queen mother Elizabeth was pleased with the news Percival gave her this afternoon. The grand queen was yet to recover from her illness.
"I can't believe that she allowed the engagement news get to her. I wonder what she will do if she finds out the party tomorrow," she took the cup of wine on the table and sipped.
"You are too much, your highness," Percival praised the queen. She was good at these games. What surprised him was the king's decision. He agreed to marry the princess without much effort. Nobody saw that coming.
"I deserve it, Percival," queen Elizabeth placed the cup on the table. "I have worked really hard to see my son get marry. And that dream of mine is finally coming to reality. I won't let my enemies take a step ahead of me."
Speaking of enemies, Percival knew that the queen had too many of them. It was as the result of the late king's access love for her "Rosalind won't give up. She will look for a way to cancel this alliance."
"I know that's why I chose Arabella to the queen."
"I doubt if the princess is fit for this task you have given to her," he lowered his voice so as not to alert outsiders. "You have not told her what is ahead."
The queen's face went dull. Percival was right. What if she was the princess was not what they said she was. It will be a huge disaster for them "We are gambling with this. I hope my assumptions are right."
He drank from his cup and stood up. It was time to return to the fields. The king was there, taking care of his horses. However, Percival did not fail to tell the queen mother, his favorite quote about assumptions "Assumption is mother of all fuck ups, your highness."
"Percival!" the queen screamed his name.
**
As I walked through the regal gates of the royal estate, I found myself immersed in the splendor of a vast, manicured field that stretched out before me. The expanse was adorned with vibrant green grass, meticulously trimmed to perfection, as if each blade had been carefully tended to by a devoted army of gardeners. The air carried a hint of freshly cut hay, intermingled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers from the surrounding gardens.
To my left stood the grand stable, an architectural masterpiece crafted with precision and elegance. Its imposing facade boasted a symmetrical arrangement of arched doorways, adorned with ornate carvings and intricate details that spoke of the rich history within its walls. The stone exterior, weathered by time, exuded a sense of timeless majesty, complementing the grandeur of the field.
Approaching the stable, I could hear the rhythmic symphony of hooves gently echoing from within. The melodious sound carried an air of familiarity, as if the horses recognized the place they called home. As I stepped inside, I was greeted by the warm scent of hay and the soft nickers of the magnificent creatures that resided within.
The stable's interior was a haven of comfort and luxury for the royal steeds. The spacious stalls, lined with soft straw bedding, provided a sanctuary for each horse, their individual names etched elegantly above each door. Sunlight poured through large windows, casting a gentle glow on the polished wooden floors and gleaming brass fixtures that adorned the stable.
The dedicated grooms moved gracefully through the stable, their familiarity with each horse evident in their every action. Attentively grooming and caring for the animals, they spoke to them in hushed tones, forming a bond that went beyond mere duty. The atmosphere was one of tranquility, where the noble creatures and their caretakers shared a mutual respect and understanding.
Beyond the stalls, a spacious riding arena awaited, a place where the royal family members refined their equestrian skills and indulged in the joys of horseback riding. The sound of hooves striking the sandy ground filled the air, blending harmoniously with the occasional laughter and playful banter that resonated throughout the arena.
As I stood there, in the heart of this royal field, I couldn't help but be captivated by the timeless beauty and noble heritage that enveloped the space. It was a testament to the harmonious relationship between man and horse, a symbol of the enduring connection that had graced the kingdom of Aerendia for centuries. And in that moment, I felt a deep appreciation for the regal traditions that had shaped this extraordinary world I was privileged to witness.
On the other end of the fields stood the king of kings, Alistair. He did not changed his clothes except for the boot he was wearing now. Percival and Roland were behind him with some guards.
With my hands holding tightly to my dress, I began to walk to where they were. There was a black mare in front of them. King Alistair fed it as they spoke.
Soft laughter filled the air when Percival made a joke. The king seemed to enjoy their company.
I went closed and let go of my dress. Roland was the first to sight me. He had a shocking look on his face. I knew the questions he was going to ask. Before, he could take steps forward…
"Princess Arabella?" the king called. He left what he was doing and came to me. I was glad he did so because I could barely walk further with this heavy metal-like fabric called a dress.
"Your majesty," I bowed and looked up quickly. He had a smile that sent shiver down my spine.
"I'm surprise to see you here" King Alistair said, with his gaze shifting to the girls behind me. "Are you bored. Are they not keeping you?"
"Oh, not that…" I turned and looked at the girls. None of their heads were up. "I wanted to come here and talk to you about something."
"Another discussion?"
There he go again, making it about him. Alistair was not going to change. When he behaved properly this morning, I thought for a second that he was going to be different from the man I knew back then but it was impossible.
"Are you still talking about…" I did not finish when he cut me off. It was bad. No gentleman will do that to a lady.
"It was no discussion in the morning, I forgot," he placed a hand on his forehead and smiled mischievously "You barely say a word at the table. What are you going to say to me now?"
"Stop it, Alistair," my face went red. I did not want to fight in public. "You are beginning to annoy me."
Roland and Percival moved backward, giving us space. At this point, I realized that my tone was harsh enough to alert anyone that I was angry.
Quickly, I lowered my voice and apologized "Forgive me, your highness. I did not mean to raise my voice at you."