The Kingdom

[SplendaWeReGoingDown]

The sun was peaking through the buildings as Lorna walked ahead in her heavy armor. It was a cool morning, signs of the first frost in the air as her breath billowed before her before dissipating. The town was quiet at this time of day, the gangs, mercs and drunks of the lower town have retired from their nightly activities and the merchants and tradesmen have yet to set up shop for the day.


The stillness was quite peaceful, and the armor Lorna wore, which could at times become stifling, was now keeping her body heat contained. She did this trip every morning, from the Seven Stars Tavern where she lived up to the castle.


On many occasions, Lorna had been offered a room within the castle itself. One that would provide better protection for the prince she was assigned to guard should he need it, or even a simple bunk within the barracks. But Lorna refused each offer.


Perhaps the young knight wished to cling onto her roots in some way, perhaps she dreaded what the gangs would do without the presence of a knight guarding the lower town, or perhaps she enjoyed the independence of living away from the castle which at times could feel stifling. Either way, Lorna adamantly stuck to her routine, making the trip to and from the lower village each morning and night, and crashing in the barracks' bunks with the other soldiers of the Royal Army when her training took too much out of her.


It was not a long trip, a simple walk, really. But the drastic changes in scenery as she left the impoverished outer district of the capital city of Esteos and went further towards the palace were still quite shocking. Shacks and old buildings were replaced by elegance and architectural masterpieces.


Lorna recalled her first time walking through this part of the city as she headed for training. The sheer elaborateness of some of these structures amazed her to no end -- her gaze traveled from building to building, person to person, admiring their fineries and elegance. Now she was quite used to it all, although was still amazed and annoyed her nonetheless. The sheer excess and ignorance with which the higher townsfolk lived was both impressive and disconcerting, considering how the city contained so many of those that were starving (herself included).


The young knight shook herself from her thoughts as she approached the gates of the castle. The guards that were posted nodded at her in recognition and the gates opened before her. Silently, she made her way through the courtyard and past the gardens that made the front entrance, before heading towards the training grounds where she would do practice drills until the prince was up and about and she could attend to her duties for the day.

 

[cellar.]

It seemed as if spring had crept in quietly over night. Although a thin layer of frost stretched icy spider webs across the windows, the sun streamed bright and warm and brilliant. Fionnbharr pressed his forehead on the cool glass, glancing down below at the gardens; the green leaves of trees were budding in, and rows of Azalea bushes peeked pink at the tips. He had always liked this season of growing and the certain

newness

that came with April. Spring was the time for better things to come.


Spring was

also

the time for unwarranted optimism and unrealistic resolutions.

Oh well.


Finn pulled himself – and his thoughts – away from the windows, letting the curtains drape back into place. With a sigh, he spun around and collapsed onto his bed, his eyes locked onto the ceiling as some sort of distraction to the brewing unease he felt. His stomach was knotted up with the anticipation of the reception that was to come later in the evening. It was important, he knew, to create armistice with Orova out of the brief cease-fire that had just ensued. Thus, it was also important that he didn’t mess up this meeting. Yet the thought of having to speak in front of so many significant people…It was already enough to make Finn stumble and trip and stutter over his words.




‘The crown prince wouldn’t bite off his own tongue trying to speak,’

Finn thought bitterly.


But Fionnbharr would. Inadequate, incompetent, useless Fionnbharr. He buried his face in his hands.


After a few more minutes of listlessness, he gradually rolled himself out of bed. There was no point in trying to hide in his room forever (despite how much he wanted to just curl up into himself and disappear.) But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter in the first place. If he missed breakfast, then somebody,

god forbid his own father

, would come searching for him in an instant. It was suffocating maybe, but Finn had long gotten used to breathing with only one lung.


Carefully, he checked his reflection in the brass mirror hanging beside the armoire. Finn brushed his wavy hair back into place and smoothed out his clothes. He had to look presentable before heading down to the sunroom. If he couldn’t play the part well enough, he could at least look it.




‘Smiles up Finn,’

he thought, glancing at his reflection,

‘you don’t want to disappoint.’

 

[SplendaWeReGoingDown]

The sun's rays were beginning to peak over the horizon as Lorna was in the training grounds, warming her cheeks that were red with exertion, and causing her to break into even more of a sweat than before. Her large, two-handed sword was in a tight grip between her fingers as she attacked the practice dummy before her, going through basic forms and drills.


Her form lacked finesse, as it always had. Most of her fellow knights had been trained in grace when it came to swordsmanship, the sport being seen just as that, a sport. But Lorna's fighting had always been for survival so it was to be expected that she lacked the flowery flourishes and movements that came along with many knights. Her fighting was crude, but effective. Although she still practiced sword forms when she could. After all, Lorna was not naive nor condescending at those who lived differently than she (at least most of the time). She knew that sword forms and proper posture can make a huge difference when it comes to the effectiveness of your strikes and your speed, so she tried to get better at these almost dance-like forms that came when using a sword.


Although she has gotten better, she was far from "graceful" when it came to sword fighting. It was as if, despite the many years and the long days of training, there was still a part of Lorna that was back in that old marketplace, fighting to get a decent meal for the night.


--


Lorna shook off the dark turn her thoughts took and decided it was time to go visit the prince in his chambers as the sun was now fully risen. Strapping her sword to her back, Lorna walked through the castle gates and into the familiar halls of the palace. Her eyes still strayed to the ornate decorations and expensive portraits and vases that lined the walls as she made her way through, still not used to such extravagance even after so many years of walking through these very halls. The beauty was just astounding and a stark contrast to the dull greys and browns and simplistic buildings and shacks of the lower village in which she grew up.


The young knight walked up to the large door that she recognized as Prince Fionnbharr and she waved off the guards stationed outside as she moved forward to knock on the door. "It is time to start the day, Your Majesty," she said from outside.

 

[cellar.]

A knock came from the door.


With a slight jump, Finn whipped his head around to look at the source of the noise. The pace of his heart had picked up speed in one swift moment of hand-wringing trepidation. As the gears of his heart shifted one way, his mind went the other – hastily scrambling to make up plausible excuses.

(‘The door was stuck…?’

– Oh my. He could already hear his father starting a lecture on

the importance of punctuality

. However, a glance at the longcase clock perched in the corner of the room told him that he was

indeed

late.) But then a voice sounded out, cutting through the cloud of panic in his thoughts. Although it was slightly muffled through the heavy wooden doors, it was enough for him to reassure him that he was in no trouble…yet. It was only Lorna.


Finn took in a deep breath; inhaling

(‘I’ll be okay’)

, and exhaling deeply

(‘well I

have

to be okay.’)


He had to just pull himself together for the evening…And then he could go back to being the

falling-apart-barely-competent thing

he usually was.


Walking out of the room and into the hall, he shut the door behind him softly. The guards were still stationed outside his chambers like stone statues, only shifting a few inches to let Lorna through. In truth, they made Finn nervous in ways he couldn’t really understand – it was something about the fact that they were entire mysteries, people he saw everyday in his life and yet never spoke once to. It was a disconcerting thought in his mind, but he never quite had the kind of intrepidity it took to start conversations with those

marble creatures



(it was a secret name invented some years ago out of timid curiosity. It stuck in his head. So did the unease.)

Finally, his eyes traveled away from the stationed guards, and then fell upon Lorna. There was a discomfited pause before Finn remembered that he was supposed to speak.


“Mmm…Morning,” he mumbled tersely, before turning away to walk towards the east sunroom. Perhaps he could’ve been more polite or eloquent in his greeting, but he was in no kind of mood to maintain the pretense of graciousness and sociability this early in the morning with the knight. Finn picked up his stride, hoping to make it to breakfast (

without being scolded before noon,

) and was vaguely aware that Lorna was still watching him. He had his own personal guard maybe. Yet most of the time, it just seemed like he had his own personal

babysitter

, hired to cage him in from dawn to dusk, all year around. But if freedom was the price he had to pay for safety,

then so be it.



...Not that he had much of a choice in the matter in the first place.

 

[SplendaWeReGoingDown]

Lorna waited patiently outside of the prince's chambers for him to come out. No doubt His Majesty the King would be angry about their lack of punctuality, and inwardly, Lorna chastised herself for not having come earlier to make sure the man was on time. Though she told herself that every time she and Prince Fionnbharr showed up late to any sort of meeting or gathering or duty of some kind , however, never really bothered to act on it.


After all, Lorna was a guard, not a nanny and she took her job quite literally. She was to protect the prince from harm, not make sure he was on time for breakfast. So, Lorna would sleep in a few extra minutes or get some time for training before appearing before the prince's chambers to escort him to whatever duties he needed to attend to in the morning.


The guards moved aside as the door to the chambers opened and Lorna was greeted with a terse 'Morning' from His Majesty before walking off. She didn't respond to the greeting, other than a minor grunt of acknowledgment. It was not an action of distaste or malice, but rather, Lorna was not a woman of many words, and if she could avoid saying them entirely and communicating with the end of her sword instead, she would do so in a second. Unfortunately, that was not the way the world worked.


She knew not where they were headed, but did not inquire to the prince and simply followed behind him.

 

[cellar.]

“You’re late again, Finny. Aw, do you need me to wake you up next time?”


Fionnbharr had expected to be greeted by the harsh voice of his father, scolding and exasperated. He had certainly tried to brace himself for it – even mentally preparing an apology to stutter out as he walked through the halls and down the stairs. However, when he arrived at the sunroom, all he got was his brother sipping tea from a china cup, lounging lazily in his seat. The

semi-affectionate

and

wholly mocking

tone coming from Sevan only served to make Finn even more annoyed with himself for being late once again. Yet, the feeling was only a miniscule annoyance compared to the huge wave of relief that washed over him upon that realization that both his mother and father were absent from the table.


“Thank you Sey, I really appreciate that,” Finn replied snappishly. Nevertheless, he pulled up a seat beside his brother. No sooner had he sat down, did a servant arrive with a platter of breakfast pastries and condiments, setting it at their circular table. The man poured him a cup of bush tea – the colour a startling orangey-red against the blue and white china.

(And it was pretty, Finn thought, how the drink bled into the intricate flower vines. He liked the contrast of liquid and solid, warm and cold, orange and blue. The sunlight pouring through the glass walls played off of the cup strikingly. Steam rose and evaporated seamlessly into the air.)


“You’re ever so lucky that father’s busy with preparations for the dinner, or he would’ve gone on with some tedious lecture again… Although, I did think that’s what

she

was for,” Sevan said, indicating towards Lorna, “More of a personal clock than a personal knight.” He turned his head slightly to look at her, eyes traversing briefly over her features once before his gaze returned to Finn. “Well, it doesn’t seem like your

nanny’s

doing much of a good job, is she?”


Finn inhaled sharply, but otherwise chose not to react to the comment. “Don’t…” He started before trailing off entirely.


“…Sure, sure, say what you want like,” he mumbled instead.



But he had the strongest urge to pick up the cup of tea and throw it at his brother’s face.




“Oh lighten up. Don’t you know a joke when you hear one?” Sevan answered with a smirk.

 

[SplendaWeReGoingDown]

As Prince Fionnbharr pulled up a seat at the dining table, Lorna took her position at his back towards the entrance in which they had just arrived. The servants shut the door behind them after they dropped off the food, served on a china so fine that the tea cup alone likely cost more than her entire set of armor. Yet, it would be nothing compared to the extravagance that would surely accompany tonight's banquet with Orova.


The Royal Family would surely spare no expense tonight. Of that, she was certain. When she first witnessed one of these such events years before, she was struck dumb by the sheer excess and brilliance of it all. She thought it unnecessary at first, was almost insulted when she first witnessed it. However, the years have taught her that not all was as it appeared on the surface. The show of wealth served a purpose, one that went over the former street rat when she first enlisted. For as she soon learned, the political arena was as much a battlefield as any on the frontlines, but with higher stakes. Wealth was a sign of power as well. It was a pissing contest of sorts, but with more elegance and passive aggressive commentary involved.


Speaking of passive aggressive commentary, Lorna thought ironically as she turned her attention to Prince Sevan, Fionnbharr's brother. Her lip curled up in distaste at his comment about her being a nanny, but she otherwise refrained from speaking and quickly schooled her expression to something more neutral as she trained her eyes forward.


It irked her, when she was referred to such. She had battled and trained endlessly for this position, it had been bestowed upon her with honor and she tried every day to live up to such an honor only to have her duties consist of making sure that His Majesty was not late for breakfast again. Lorna knew that she shouldn't be bothered by it as much as she was. A knight with nothing to fight was a good thing for it meant that they were in times of peace. If there were something that the personal knight of the prince himself needed to fight, then that would surely mean that the whole kingdom was in grave danger.


Deep down she knew that. Still, it didn't mean she still didn't get pissed off when someone referred to her as a glorified babysitter.

 

[cellar.]

He quietly busied himself with breakfast, filling his plate with some food

(that he was undoubtedly not going eat, but was definitely going pick over for the next thirty minutes before letting his knotted stomach simply be.)

He took the cutlery into his hands, stabbing his butter knife into a croissant with deliberate force. Despite that singular reaction, Finn worked hard to keep the annoyance off his face. Of all the people in the world, Sey had the

miraculous talent

of getting under his skin the most. They were too different, yet they were too similar, and that was certainly enough ammo for Sey to pick nerves with.


“Well, I’m off,” Sevan announced a few moment later, sliding out of his seat at the table. “Make sure you put miss

personal clock

to good use, and don’t arrive late tonight. Else father will skin you alive…not that it wouldn’t be something funny to watch,” he added with a laugh. Once again, Sevan glanced at Finn with a contemptuous smirk – as if his tone hadn’t been condescending enough alone. With a lazy wave over his shoulder, he pulled open the doors and left the sunroom.






(Red was the colour that Finn’s cheeks were turning from a mix of irritation and embarrassment.




Red was the colour of the scaldingly hot tea that he so very badly wanted to throw at his brother.




Red was the colour of

grow a goddamn backbone

as he stayed silent once more against Sey’s remarks.)







He finished the rest of breakfast in this silence, destroying the croissant on his plate into an unrecognizable pile of broken crumbs with his knife and fork. Occasionally, he glanced up to look at the windows, desperately craving the scenic surroundings of the gardens outside. The sunbeams that poured through the glass were having some sort of gravitational pull on him. If he could just abandon the schedule set out for him, if he could watch spring flower before his eyes, if he could do nothing…




Wishful thinking.


Lorna’s presence shadowed across his mind, aware that she was standing behind him.

And god

, he didn’t feel safe – he felt absolutely imprisoned. A guard,

but a guard for whom?

Not for him, but for the rest of his family. No, he couldn’t be trusted to keep himself safe; he couldn’t be trusted to do things properly. Out of a slowly boiling annoyance, Finn turned to her. “Don’t you ever get bored of just following me?”

 

[SplendaWeReGoingDown]

Lorna had tuned out the conversation, thinking it better for her own temper and sanity that she not listen to the other prince's teasing. Nobility often liked to make jokes at the expense of others, it was something she was still not used to. In the lower towns, there was a larger community, a need to rely on your neighbors, (there was jest, but it was of a different sort). In the high class, however, things were so utterly different.


Even after all of these years, the knight would never get used to the way things ran. A part of her wondered if she ever would (likely not). The extravagance, the passive agressiveness, the sheer politics of it all was still so foreign to her. It hardly shocked her anymore, certainly, for she had long been desensitized by her surroundings, but it did still make her feel as if she were a fish out of water -- Lorna would never belong in this society. But that was alright, because she was there as a soldier, and not nobility. And being a soldier? That was a role she fit into perfectly.


She had been so lost in these thoughts that it took her a second to realize that Prince Sevan was no longer in the room, and Prince Fionnbharr was addressing her. The words took a second to register and she settled her eyes on him from where he sat.


Don't you ever get bored of just following me?





Lorna paused, considering her words carefully. After a few moments, she rested her eyes on him once more. "All the time," she replied honestly, like it was nothing. Perhaps she was out of line in saying so, but Lorna was always the brash and honest sort. "But," she added, "when you've lived a life such as mine, you learn to take pleasure in the mundane." Dull as it was, she'd take the boredom that came with being a personal knight over the excitement of being a gang mercenary any day.