II.
The Silver Princess
Redcliffe castle lounged ahead, the afternoon sun bursting past the tall towers which glinted, the shiny tiles reflecting the sun's brilliance on this hot summer's day. The castle sprawled over the cliff top magnificently, larger than any other Arling's abode, the castle had stood for hundreds of years, since the days of King Calenhad and possibly beyond. Redcliffe was a quaint little fishing port, one of the bigger settlements north of Ostagar.
Heat hung heavily, intensifying the already pungent stench of fish and brine and children ran, gleeful in their nakedness, into the sparkling shallows of Lake Calenhad. Utterly ignoring the sign which read 'no swimming' even the guards turned a blind eye to the children's frivolities in the sweltering heat. Mothers watched anxiously and fathers cuffed their sons who wanted to abandon their work and join the water festivities. The shore was a commotion of delighted squeals, agitated barks and eager hollers carrying over from the merchants selling their wares in the small square. Summer had come to Ferelden early this year and everybody was enjoying the fair weather.
Banners streamed lazily in the airless breeze, the King's own standard fluttering proudly from the castle's flag pole, signalling that the King of Ferelden, the hero of the land, Maric Theirin was inside. There was laughter and a lightness that energized the small village nestled in amongst the Frostback Mountains and Lake Calenhad, Redcliffe's royal visitors had drawn a slew of merchants and entertainers. Anybody who was willing to make the travel to try and catch the royal eye at a more intimate distance than in Denerim was here, baying for either the coin trail which the King left in his wake, or His Majesty's attention.
"Wines! Wines for sale! All the way from Val Royeaux, the city of your Arlessa's birth! Come, have a taste!"
Bryce Cousland put a shielding hand on his daughter's slight shoulder whilst slinging another over his eldest, his son, Fergus. "Father?" Began Fergus, the boy's bright blue eyes dancing and his dark chestnut hair shifting in the wind, Bryce eyed his son fondly, knowing what he'd ask before he did;
"May I go down to the lake?" He asked eagerly, his eyes big and pleading.
"I want to go too, Father! If Fergus can go, can I go with him?!" His daughter, Melody, piped.
"Children," He chuckled, "I'm sorry but I can't have you both wandering off. If I lose you here your mother would have my head mounted and served to the King for his supper. I'm sorry, lad, lass; maybe another time." Fergus pouted, surely, and shrugged off his father's arm and marched on ahead, ignoring them in his mood.
Bryce sighed and his broad shoulders sagged, the heat was intense and he peeped down at his hip and hoisted his little daughter up and placed her on his shoulders; "Can't have you falling from heat, can we, Pup?!" Melody laughed and embedded her small hands in her father's dark locks which were threaded with grey.
"Look!" Bryce exclaimed and pointed his finger towards the hilltop which Redcliffe castle stood on; Melody followed his finger and let out a gasp of delight; coming downwards from the castle was the King, the Arl and a whole entourage at his back. Melody squirmed on her father's shoulders and bobbed up and down causing him to laugh and tell her to be still lest she fall from his shoulders; "Look at them all, Father! There's hundreds!"
"Aye, that there is, Pup...where- Where's your brother?"
Melody sobered and peered around the full marketplace and shook her head, "I don't know...he was here a minute ago."
"Maker!" Bryce growled and gently lifted Melody from his shoulders and placed her down. His dazzling blue eyes narrowed as he spotted his son; laughing with some other boys, he looked to be heading down to the lake. Bryce sucked in a breath and exhaled, more from relief, but there was a good measure of exasperation in there too.
"Wait here, Pup. I'll be back in a moment." He said to his daughter and strode off purposely with the intention of apprehending his son. Melody stood motionless, amidst the waves of people, all milling around in excitement at the sight of the Arl's company approaching the town.
"Wine! Come and have a taste of wine! You there, lovely girl; would you have some wine?"
Melody turned, her dark green eyes entranced by the wine merchant. He was a lovely thing, young and sleek-skinned, he was of a dark complexion and his accent was strange, twanged so that each of his words rolled off his tongue and floated to the ears. His dark eyes gleamed as bright as a beetle's back as he beckoned the young girl over; she stood before his stall as he presented her with a beautifully ornate bottle with some red liquid inside.
"Will the little lady have a taste? The first is free," He said smoothly with a wry grin which made her blush.
"I...can't." She stammered sheepishly. Melody was usually shy and the man's face was causing an unexpected wave of bashfulness. She felt rather silly standing there but she drew herself up and politely declined when he made a pained face, his knees bending a little, he mock-pleaded;
"Oh, but it is only a taste, lovely girl. Won't you try some of Antiva's finest? Made by the brothers of the Antivan Chantry and aged in a delightfully dark cellar for nigh on ten years!"
"You're from Antiva?" Melody chirped and a delightfully roguish smile decorated the merchant's lovely features;
"Si, mi querida; the most beautiful city in Thedas! With even better wine, I might add. Please, have a taste."
Melody almost felt bullied by his charm and relented, reaching out her hand she took the bottle and sniffed it as the merchant turned and with a flourish and produced an equally as ornate glass, he took the bottle and poured the girl a half glass and motioned for her to drink. The wine tasted fruity, with a blast of zesty bitterness which was not altogether unpleasant; Melody smiled and had another sip before nodding her dark head and returning the glass daintily;
"It tastes lovely, thank you."
"So, mi novio; will you buy a casket, only twenty silvers and it is yours."
His bright pearly teeth illuminated his face again as he beamed down on her; Melody was at a loss for words, and gaped like a fool before she shrugged her shoulders and grasped for words;
"I-uh, well..."
"What's going on here, Pup?"
Bryce Cousland's stormy face almost dimmed the sun. Melody whipped around quickly and ducked her head; Fergus was by their father's side looking just as aggravated as his father. They must have had words, Melody deduced. "This man is a wine merchant from Antiva, Father. Did you know that it is the acolytes of the Chantry that make the wine there?" Bryce's brow furrowed, but a smirk tugged at his lips.
"Oh really, Daughter? And what does a thirteen-year-old girl know about Antivan wines?" He directed his sentence at the wine merchant whose eyes widened when he heard how old the girl was and that the big man with the gleaming rapier at his hip was her father. Melody flushed and squeaked;
"Only that one thing, Father."
"Precisely." His gaze slid from his daughter to the merchant and he nodded his head, "Any good?"
The merchant brightened and gave the glass to Bryce, pouring the man a glass he said; "Only the best." With a downturned mouth, Bryce took a sip and then bobbed his head again before taking another experimental sip.
Turning to his daughter, he asked; "Did you like this, Pup?" Melody nodded her head and smiled pleasantly as Bryce smiled warmly and ducked his head, "So do I." He said in an almost confessional tone before laughing loudly; "Alright then, merchant. A cask of your Antivan red, it tastes too fruity to do any real damage to my pup."
"Ah, excellent, caballero! Your daughter is a spoiled princess, no?"
"She's not a princess, merchant..." Bryce turned slightly and drew the girl into his flank affectionately and winked down at her before saying firmly; "She's my princess. Thank you."
"A good day to you and yours may the Maker smile fortune on you!"
With that Bryce nodded and hefted the casket under his arm, "Right, come away you two. We must go and meet your mother; she'll be in the retinue with the Arlessa no doubt."
They began to make their way through the press of villagers with Fergus throwing longing looks over towards the lake where the other boys and girls were playing; clenching his fist he sighed as Melody came up alongside him and pressed her shoulder into his arm. "What's wrong?" She asked quietly. Fergus didn't answer; he just let out another sigh and shook his head,
"It's nothing, little sister. Don't concern yourself."
"You might as well tell me...I won't tell Father." At that the sixteen-year-old boy laughed and ruffled her hair. "I'm not concerned about you telling Father, Mel. It's just...I sometimes wish I wasn't...y'know me."
"You?" Melody's brow creased and then she laughed, "Why wouldn't you want to be you?!" Her brother's boyish shoulders sagged and fell as he let out another breath; "If we weren't Father's children we could play in the lake. We could have some fun. Some real adventure." Melody nodded her head ponderously before pointing out happily, "But none of the boys down by the lake know how to swing a sword. How can you go on real adventures with boys who can't fight?" Fergus smiled then, dourly, but he was smiling which made Melody laugh.
"See? It's good being our father's children. And you get to ride, learn a joust, all that. It isn't so bad, Fergus. At least you don't have to sing and dance, sew and learn how to play the lute..." Melody shuddered, "I hate that bloody thing. The strings hurt my fingers!" Fergus's laugh boomed out above her and she giggled when she felt his arm come around her shoulders playfully rough;
"So you want to fight, eh; Lady Cousland?!"
"Don't call me that! I'm not 'Lady' anything yet! Now, get off!"
Fergus chuckled, "I thought my lady wanted to learn to fight!" Melody grunted, trying to dislodge herself from her brother's firm grip and twisted, "I don't with you! You're too rough!"
"Oh, you think the Orlesians Father fought were all soft and nice to him? Your enemies won't treat you delicately, Sister! Come on, put them up!" With another grunt, Melody giggled giddily and managed to twirl herself out from under her brother's arm and elbow him indiscreetly in the gut. He doubled over winded and peered up from behind the hank of hair which covered his eyes and spluttered;
"Aye, but Sister; you never fight fair."
Melody's smart response was cut off. Before she could speak, another said smoothly and grandly; "We are women, Son. Nothing comes to us fairly. Now, if you two are quite finished brawling in the streets like urchins, come and greet your dear mother."
Fergus got up and turned, before he could even smile he heard Melody shriek delightedly; "Mother!" Shoving her brother back – not unkindly - Melody bounded towards her and flung herself at her mother while Fergus trailed along behind alongside his father, absently rubbing his tummy where the pain of his sister's underhanded attack still dwelt.
"Greetings, my love."
Bryce said fondly, his smile tender as he leaned over Melody's head and pressed an affectionate kiss against his wife's cheek, the casket of wine still under his arm. Lady Eleanor's lively green eyes glittered and softened as she gazed up at her husband, one hand rested on her daughter's dark brow and another on her husband's chest, she looked over grandly at her boy; Fergus stopped a few feet from her and bowed impeccably, flanked as his mother was by the King's court along with Arl Eamon's to boot.
Fergus gave his mother a lopsided grin which was ghosted with grief; Lady Eleanor's too mirrored her son's sadness, she wanted nothing more than a hug from her boy, but he was sixteen now; almost a man, and court protocol had to be followed to the letter.
She gave him a sweet smile and stepped around her daughter, leaving her with her father; she placed a hand on her son's shoulder and said softly, "And a very good day to you, my son. I trust you are well?" Fergus tensed and nodded rigidly, but his voice lacked its edge; "Yes, Mother. I am very well, thank you."
"Beating up your sister?" Lady Eleanor enquired playfully, a twinkle in her eye. "Me?! She's got a better sword arm than Father, she does!" Fergus complained, still rubbing his sore flesh. His mother laughed, a lovely sound; a trill almost, and she turned away and said to her husband;
"Well, it seems we are a family of warriors; what shall become of us?"
-ooo-
Dinner that night was merry, the Prince's eighteenth birthday was at hand and the King toasted his son and very generously granted him prestigious titles and land, a new hunter, a dozen hawks – hoods, pedestals and gloves and all – about twenty dogs to hunt with and two new golden wrought swords.
Cailan stood and solemnly accepted his father's gifts with a great show of grace. The young man then turned and bestowed upon his betrothed, Anora, one of the beautiful hawks. It was stark white, peering indignantly and sharply from its cage; great golden eyes blazed underneath its little hood. Anora – who seemed mildly satisfied with the gift – took the creature and accepted the toast which her young husband-to-be gave to her.
Melody thought that the caged hawk with the keen eyes, seeing everything and anything reminded her of the Princess herself, but she kept that to herself and clapped with everyone else when the gifts were given.
After an evening of dancing and festivities the night began to wind down with the recently-birthed Arlessa bidding her husband goodnight. Melody's mother left with the unburdened woman and kissed her children goodnight and urged Bryce to get them to bed within the hour. The Teyrn smiled warmly up at his wife, gently caressing her hand which was on one of his shoulders; he touched her cheek and promised tenderly that she need not fear. With an affectionate smile and a loving kiss, the Teyrna was abed.
Melody could barely contain her excitement, dressed in a butter-yellow gown made of light satin, pearls dripped from her earlobes a little chain circlet of gold and emeralds rested upon her brow making her green eyes shine brightly. Her father eyed her rather closely and when she caught him doing so; Melody smiled daintily and gave him a little wave as she sat at the wall on the bench alongside other unmarried maids. Bryce smiled warmly and returned the wave; his lament at his daughter's growing up lessening so at the sight of her vulnerability.
The hall was well lit, candles flickered as ladies and maids were tossed delicately by gentlemen as they danced. Hair unbound, the maids all dressed in mild girlish colours, pinks, baby blues and butter yellows; like tantalizing little butterflies they fluttered and flitted around the room; they had golden circlets encrusted with precious stones on their brows and woven into their long locks. The married ladies all had their hair bound with ribbons and gold threaded into their thick shiny braids. Melody sat between Delilah Howe and another noble girl whom Melody did not know. She sat with her hands clasped and her eyes on the dancing, unlike the other girls who sat with their heads croqueted, demure and eyes downcast like they had no idea how pretty they looked in their dresses.
Melody noticing this, gasped, and tried to copy the other girls – although, to her own annoyance.
What was the point of keeping one's head bowed? How did the other girls expect to watch the dancing? How would they know when somebody might come over and ask them to dance? Melody pondered these questions so hard that she did not see a pair of fine boots before her for a good moment.
When she did, she frowned and her head bobbed up; before her was stood a lean young man with flaming red hair and an almost pained expression on his adolescent face. Melody knew him right away; he was Teagan, Arl Eamon's much younger brother. He was friends with Fergus and she had spoken to him on occasion when he warded at her father's castle the year before. Melody cracked an inviting smile and exclaimed without thinking;
"Teagan! It's been ages, how are you?!"
At the sound of her voice coupled with her genuine joy of seeing him, Teagan let out a breath and sighed before chuckling. The nineteen-year-old sobered and bowed with a small smile; "Hello, Melody. I am well and it is wonderful to see you here. Would you like to dance?" Melody beamed again, getting to her feet; she felt Delilah Howe's hatred for her simply radiate from behind her and nodded at Teagan, not caring for Delilah's scorn.
"I would love to."
It seemed that Melody's father would be getting a talking to when he finally made his children retire; he sent Melody and Fergus to their chambers much later than the hour as he had promised his fiery wife, but Melody knew the look which her mother had given her father. She knew the Teyrn would get away with it tonight.
"Did you enjoy yourself tonight, my sister? Teagan could barely take his eyes off you; it took the Arl and Father twenty minutes of bullying to make him ask you to dance."
Melody laughed and her eyes widened; "Really? I always liked Teagan...he's nice. But he's not the King." At that it was Fergus' turn to laugh as he flung an arm around his sister's shoulders; "Nobody's the King! I thought you would have grown out of that by now." Melody sighed and shrugged her brother off and cast her eyes downward,
"I know it's silly, Fergus...But I just think he's wonderful and nobody can live up to him. Not Teagan. Not Thomas. Not even Cailan...They're all boys."
Fergus' laughter boomed; "And you want a man. Dear sister, you're young...You'll find your Maric soon, I'm sure." He trailed off before adding playfully; "Or our dear sweet mother will choose you one!"
"Oh, shut up!" Melody said, whacking his arm lightly; "I know she will...but I don't think-"
She cut herself off quickly not wanting to divulge her heart's desire to Fergus; brother or not, he would not understand her love of the King – it sounded too strange, even to herself. But she did, she loved him from afar at every joust, every meeting of the Landsmeet, every trip and every feast she would gaze at him and grow to love him with more and more fervour. Finally she shrugged and sighed sadly,
"It doesn't matter. Good night, Brother." She said sadly and kissed his cheek, leaving him alone outside her door.
-ooo-
The next day began boringly; rain plummeted from the skies and the court was house-bound and agitated. So much for summer one noble complained until another one pointed out that summer rains in Ferelden were a natural accordance. A natural annoyance, Melody thought. It meant that all the noisy nobles and their noisy wives were inside the castle right along with their noisy children. All that coupled with the noisy servants made for a bad reading environment. Melody cursed and made her way down to the Arl's vast library and bumped into a familiar, beautiful face; the Princess eyed her coldly as though she were nought but an ant come before her and said coolly,
"Ah, see here; if it isn't the Fool Girl from Denerim. How fares it, fool? Have you fallen today?"
Melody's eyes immediately hit the floor in reverence of the Princess. Anora was beautiful, regal...cold. Like a lovingly made marble statue, she embodied the chill of the wind outside as she eyed the young Cousland up and down as though she were a peasant walked in from the middens and not a noble of more substance than herself.
"N-no, my lady..." Melody whispered and Anora laughed a brittle chuckle; around her were her usual accomplices, the ladies-in-waiting who were there to guard the Princess's virtue. Like Cailan ever thought of bedding his ice-princess before shooting a bow. The thought nearly made Melody laugh and the Princess demanded sharply; "Is there something funny, fool?!"
Melody's eyes widened and she gaped, "No. But I was just thinking that if you put more effort into your marital prospects as you do slandering me, then you may actually get somewhere, my lady."
Anora's colour rose so quickly, her hands were like talons and Melody thought that the older woman might claw at her. She spat coldly, "What did you just say, you blighted fool-girl?!"
"Nothing. Nothing, my lady...I didn't mean-"
"Ladies?" The voice commanded respect and order; the scene obviously needed some.
Anora was bent over the smaller girl, her hands outstretched and hostile; bearing down on the child like a slavering wolf. King Maric stepped forward and placed a hand on his friend's daughter's shoulder and said lightly;
"Why not head upstairs to your chamber, Anora and dress for dinner." The girl's blue eyes did not leave Melody as she replied to the King, her lips barely moving; "Yes, Uncle. Of course, right away." With that she spun on her heel and marched off with as much grace as she could salvage, with her entourage of idiots fluttering her along.
Melody's head felt sore, her throat closing, she eyed the King and curtsied demurely and tried to dash off but the King stopped her and said kindly;
"You will have to excuse Anora. She has not yet grasped the grace of entitlement enough to not flaunt it in others faces yet I fear. Are you needed down in the kitchens, girl?"
"The kitchens, Sire?"
"Yes..." The King said, now looking at her. His unbearably clear eyes narrowed on Melody making her blush and squirm; her belly completely aflutter with nerves, she peeped up with genuine modesty and the King took a breath and a smile broke along his exquisite face; "Aha!" He exclaimed;
"I do know you, child. My little friend from Denerim; have you mastered those damned heels yet?"
Melody gaped. She would never have expected the King to remember her. "Yes...Yes, Your Majesty."
"Aye, I remember my Rowan in those blighted things...she always complained of them, she did."
"The Queen was a warrior was she not, Sire?" The King nodded, leaning up against the windowsill and peered out of the window. Rain cascaded down the window; bright overcast clouds illuminated his handsome face, Melody, unable to look away listened as the King's voice became morose for the first time in her hearing;
"Aye, she was. My Rowan was an amazing woman...Did you know she fought through an entire company to get to me? She was my comrade, my Queen, and my wife. A soldier without equal and so loyal..."
"You miss her very much, Your Grace?" Melody squeaked, unexplainably hurt by his admiration of the Queen.
At that he turned his attention back to her and eyed her closely; "Yes, girl. I do miss her." He responded tartly making Melody back away; he noticed and softened. "My apologies for the mix up, you do not dress as the other maids do." He said, changing the subject.
"Well," Melody began, pawing her plain dress; "Why wear something fine on a day like this?"
"Well said," The King chuckled and started down the corridor. "Farewell, little soldier; whatever transgression you offended Anora with – I'd keep out of her way for a bit." Melody nodded, smiling; "Thank you, Sire."
"Unless you wish to prove to her that you are the fool she named you."
-ooo-
"Ten silvers on you backing out, Cousland!"
Prince Cailan laughed and threw down the shiny coins before Fergus; the younger man chuckled and matched the bet and said confidently; "No fear, I'll do it." There was a clamour as the other young men raised their tankards and drank on the bet made. The Prince smiled roguishly and said in a hushed tone to Fergus and the others, "We must keep this quiet, though."
Fergus nodded; "Agreed, my mother would have a fit if she found out." Some of the others nodded.
"Then it's settled; it shall be between us five and we'll do it today; while my father and the Arl are out hunting."
The boys all hit their tankards together in their pact. Melody came up alongside her brother and queried curiously, her features laughing. Fergus turned away from the others, pulling his sister aside so that they could not leer at her; he lowered his head so that he could hear her voice;
"How goes it? What's the venture? What's between you five?" She asked quickly smiling.
"Did you hear everything?!" Fergus demanded and Melody laughed, "Not everything – but enough. Tell me!"
"I can't, Sister. It's not for you to know. Now, you should get back to the bench." He said sternly making Melody curl her nose and complain; "Oh, I hate sitting on that thing – if Delilah sneers at me one more time I'll scream!"
"Is that not the way of you women, Sister? Sneer and hiss at each other until you both stop envying one another?" Melody frowned up at him and said blandly; "No. And you really have no idea. Come on, Fergus; what's the thing?! I won't tell anybody I promise-"
"Fergus?"
It was Prince Cailan who came up behind Melody and jerked his head at the older Cousland; "We're heading now, I'm telling my father that we're not riding today...Are you coming?" He added with a dark grin. Fergus returned the smile with a twinkle in his eye and Melody eyed them both suspiciously. Nudging her brother she hissed; "Are you doing something dangerous?" Fergus laughed and ruffled her hair making her shriek;
"Nay, Sister. Stay here and eat your breakfast – we'll be back soon." With that he kissed her forehead and departed with the group of young men lead by the Prince leaving Melody to ponder what they were up to.
"I don't suppose you'll be sitting with us, fool? Or would you rather gallivant with the boys?"
It was Anora. Slowly Melody turned and eyed the Princess; she looked radiant today in a dress of pure white as if to boast her chastity and commitment to her vow as Cailan's untouched betrothed. She quite put Melody to shame who was dressed in a dark green gown of silk.
It seemed that Delilah had joined the Princess's putrid gang, standing at the back being overshadowed by one of the prettier ones. Melody shook her head and politely declined the Princess's barbed invitation, citing that she wished to sit with her mother and the ladies instead of the maids.
"Hmph, suit yourself; but you really should make friends, fool. It's wise if you have...foes."
"I'll keep that in mind, my lady." Melody returned and watched as she turned and left, her minions in tow.
It was late afternoon when Melody managed to excuse herself from her mother's company as she wished to rest before dinner. Melody made her excuses and set off outside. Pulling on a pair of leather boots over some old crimson leggings she had found, she pulled a ratty old cloak around her shoulders and sneaked out of the large doors which lead out into the castle's courtyard and made her way down into the town of Redcliffe.
The rain, heels and hooves had churned the lanes into slippery mulch and Melody picked her way down them carefully. She followed a guard's direction to the cliffs which overlooked the town and peered over the side down into the grey waves which battered the cliff face.
Suddenly there was a gleeful whoop from her left, her head twisted round and her eyes widened; standing bolt upright, shirtless and trembling at the side of the bluff was Fergus. Slowly Melody pushed herself from the wall and stepped towards her brother just as he took a step off the cliff she screamed his name so loudly she was sure he could hear her over the waves.
Fergus turned his head and looked straight at her but it was too late; he was over the edge and falling. Without thinking, Melody ran forward and called his name. Somebody grabbed her around the waist as she made towards where her brother stood; the girl struggled and battled against the strong arms which held her in their tight grasp.
"Enough, girl!"
Cried a voice and when Melody turned and eyed her occupier she gasped, the Prince was standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her back from the edge. The young man's expression was irritated until his blue eyes fixated on the girl's face and he saw panic-induced tears had sprung to her green eyes and were now spilling over and running down her cheeks. "My brother..." She started breathlessly and the Prince nodded behind her; Melody turned and frantically followed his gaze and saw her brother climbing back up a shallow hill. They had been jumping from the cliffs for amusement she realised.
Melody felt like a fool but did not care as she threw off the Prince's warm arms and ran towards her barely-clothed brother and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his bare chest she hiccupped,
"I thought...I thought! I didn't know what I thought, you idiot!"
With that she began to batter her little fist off his chest, relief and anxiety all muddled up; he held her as she wept until she composed herself. When she had; she looked around at all the boys; they were just as shirtless as Fergus and all eyeing her as thought she were mad. It was the Prince who spoke first; now with his clothes back on, he instructed the others to get themselves ready to go back to the castle, but not before he pleaded with Melody in a quiet voice;
"My lady, I am sorry for the...distress we caused you. But please do not mention this to anybody up at the castle."
Tears still stained her cheeks as Melody nodded vacantly and pressed into her brother's side; painfully shy and embarrassed by the scene she had caused, she blushed from behind her brother's shoulder and mumbled;
"I won't, Your Grace. I was a fool to get so worked up. I shan't tell anyone I swear."
"Thank you," The Prince said with a kind smile.