Celouise was given the traditional twenty heartbeats in which to have them beheaded – even though this entire tradition had fallen out of favour centuries ago – and silence filled the courtyard as everyone present took note of the honour and respect he showed her before Jarhine had risen to his feet again, looking down into her face.
Celouise's breath stopped as she looked up into his face. Although it did bear a passing resemblance to the portrait she had received previously, it could just have easily been a different man.
There was no trace of cruelty in his eyes, not a trace of the sneer which had marred the painting and his high cheekbones, when seen in person, served to make him a beautiful man rather than feminine.
"My lady," Jarhine took her fingers gently and brought them to his lips. "I have done you a great disservice in delaying my arrival. For this I offer my profuse apologies. If it please you, could we be presented to your father as soon as we have changed from our travel clothes?"
Celouise was at a complete loss, the image she had formed of an overbearing, foppish dandy who would march into her father's modest castle and demand the best of everything had been shattered in the space of around five minutes.
Suddenly self-conscious as she had dressed in simple clothing, not expecting him to arrive without ceremony, Celouise curtseyed.
"Your highness," she began, releasing his fingers. "We did not expect your arrival and are unprepared for your entourage as yet."
Jarhine looked puzzled.
"Entourage?" He muttered, while his brothers exchanged smiles behind his back. "I do not quite underst...oh! Oh, no. There are merely the three of us," he smiled almost shyly and her stomach twisted. "No, ah, entourage."
"In that case, highness, allow me to show you to a suite where you may refresh yourselves."
"Please."
Less than an hour later, Jarhine and his brothers had washed, changed and groomed themselves into a state where they were presentable to the king.
Suitable fanfares and introductions were made as the trio made their way down the stone stairs leading to the throne room.
Again Celouise was surprised as all three wore normal clothing. Well made certainly but tailored modestly and in dark or neutral colours.
Jarhine himself sported a dark green tunic and trews in the same materials, a simple embroidery of his coat of arms the only sign he had any status at all.
Grethron wore simple brown and black while Malthrom favoured black from head to toe.
"The kingdom of Smidlania is proud to greet their Royal Highnesses Prince Jarhine, Prince Grethron and Prince Malthrom from the kingdom of Rothmury," the steward announced loudly.
King Ranatil had stood and opened his arms as his guests were announced.
Once more, all three princes knelt and offered their necks in respect to the king, to the gathered surprise of the few courtiers and merchants who had managed to appear in the throne room.
"We are overjoyed to be in the presence of the most majestic King Ranatil and his family. My father sends his heartfelt greetings to his brother king," Jarhine said.
Speeches followed, one from her father and one from Jarhine on behalf of his.
One of the self-important merchants present managed to gain the floor in an attempt to promote his own interests. Jarhine spent the time he droned on, looking around the throne room, eventually bringing his gaze to Celouise.
She had changed into a light green, silken dress, her hair had been piled atop her head leaving her neck and shoulders bare, the expanse of pale skin drawing his eyes.
They lingered a little too long and she blushed under the intensity of his gaze, bringing a smile to his lips.
Eventually the official duties drew to a close and Celouise's father invited the three princes to dine with his family after they had declined the offer of a banquet.
They joined Ranatil and Celouise along with her younger brother, Kalabar who made it clear he would rather be anywhere else, in a comfortable room her father used for entertaining.
The two brothers, Grethron and Malthrom seemed to be anticipating something and kept nudging Jarhine who was pretending not to know what they were after. Eventually relenting, Jarhine asked King Ranatil.
"Your majesty, my little brothers," he grinned as they protested. "Would greatly appreciate the opportunity to visit your library at some point convenient to you."
Ranatil noticed the two young men could barely contain themselves and smiled too.
"Of course Prince Jarhine, I am sure we can arrange a visit in the next few days," the disappointment on their faces was comical and even Celouise chuckled at the joke. "Please, go and enjoy yourselves, highnesses. I have long heard of the thirst for knowledge endured by Grethron and Malthrom."
The two younger princes had left wordlessly, only really seeming to speak to each other at any length.
"Come, highness, and be seated." Ranatil invited and Jarhine strode across to seat himself near to Celouise but facing her father.
"Should we dispense with the formalities, sire?" he asked King Ranatil.
"Oh for the love of Dawa, please do," her father replied. "If there is one thing which drives me to distraction, Jarhine, it is all the flowery speech and titles we have to use."
Silence fell over the room, only broken by the bored sighing coming from Prince Kalabar who sulked in a corner. Jarhine smiled at Celouise.
"So, Kalabar, how are your studies going?" Jarhine asked.
"Well enough, I suppose," came the curt reply.
Jarhine nodded.
"And your swordsmanship?"
Kalabar looked sharply at the older prince.
"Why? What have you heard?"
Jarhine frowned.
"I have heard nothing, how could I?"
Kalabar shook his head.
"I have yet the strength to wield one of the swords our people use," he admitted shyly. Jarhine nodded this time.
"A common problem, have you tried a Northland sword? They are much lighter and well balanced too."
"Of course not, where would I obtain one?" The young prince demanded, clearly irate.
"Kalabar!" Celouise snapped. "Be polite."
"Would you like one?" Jarhine asked, ignoring his remark.
The young prince stared at him in wonder.
"I would, highness," Kalabar replied in a much more respectful tone, his face alight with interest.
Jarhine stood and began to unbuckle the sword he wore at his hip. Kalabar's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he took the sheathed weapon.
"But...this is yours," he stated. Saying the obvious with a nervous look on his face as if he thought he was being tricked.
"It was mine," Prince Jarhine told him. "Now it is yours. Yet there is one promise I ask of you as you accept this sword," he looked gravely into the young prince's eyes. "Never use it against the people who created it."
Prince Kalabar nodded.
"Northlanders? I promise." He made to draw the sword but Jarhine's hand shot out and stopped him, nodding towards King Ranatil.
"Never inside the house of a king," the older prince released the younger, who swallowed and nodded before asking his father's permission to leave.
"What was the purpose of that little conversation, Jarhine?" The king asked once he had gone.
Jarhine looked from Celouise to her father and back again.
"My brothers and I have been in the Northlands," he began to their obvious shock. "This is the reason I was delayed in coming to you, my princess."
Celouise's heart beat a little faster when he claimed her with those words.
"But the Northlanders are barbarians and would..." Jarhine held his hand up, stopping the king in his own house.
"Majesty, forgive me but the Northlanders are only slightly different to us."
Celouise held a hand to her mouth and Ranatil shook his head in denial.
"They eat food as we do, they need shelter as we do, love their children as we do..."
The king cut him off then, his voice echoing his negative feelings about his ancient foes.
"They kill their children and that is nothing like us!" Ranatil growled.
Celouise had been watching the prince to whom she had been betrothed and saw the sadness and horror write itself across his face.
"You are correct Ranatil, they do kill their children. Yet not in sacrifice to some heathen God as we have all been led to believe," he swallowed and his voice betrayed the hurt he was feeling. "They do so as it is a kinder alternative to watching them starve," Jarhine was trying to keep his emotions in check as he added. "Have you watched a baby starve to death?"
His tortured eyes cut deep into Celouise's soul and in that moment feelings of warmth and concern for Jarhine rushed her. Her only wish being that she could take the pain he was feeling and crush it to nothing.
King Ranatil had gone pale.
"Why is this happening then, son?" He asked willing to accept Jarhine's words.