Trace stood in the corner of the room, his mind wandering as yet another suitor paid court to the princess.
She seemed less averse to this man than the others, though her sharp tongue was not easily controlled. Today's suitor was taking it in stride, meeting her slightly acidic words with clever, understated retorts. It pulled the bodyguard from his reverie and made him begin to pay more attention to the conversation of those far above his station.
"It pains me to learn you find Thoroughbreds lacking," He was saying, though he did not sound particularly pained. "My family has bred them as a hobby for several generations."
"Not lacking," Sapphira corrected as she gently swirled the tea in her cup. "I simply prefer my quarter horse for her agility and beauty."
"I heard rumors she is a fine Palomino," The suitor nodded, "though an unusually spoiled one."
