Chapter 7: The Prince
Prince Merrlonstrap sighed as he looked at his reflection. His father was going to his brother's kingdom to try to make peace for something. As Lionzo's son and heir, he had to go along and right now he was getting fitted for new court clothes.
The tailor took his shoulders and pulled them back. "Your Highness, I cannot fulfill my duties if you insist on hunching. These clothes need to be ready by tomorrow morning." He bent down to finish his work.
Merrlonstrap groaned and stood up straight.
This would be just another show of the royalty and a pointless procession in his opinion. While he was glad that he was the Prince most of the time, he hated affairs of state. And in his opinion, there had been far too many as of late. He would rather hawk or ride. He had just received a new stallion from his father and wanted to try him out. The present was one of his two main things that made him happy right now. The other was Jallima, his twin.
Lightspur was stunning. Standing at 16.5 hands, the well-muscled mahogany horse was exquisite. He had a white star and white socks on his front legs. He was still young and Merrlonstrap wanted to be the one who would solely train him.
On top of everything, his father had taken the advice of Desmond and now he was betrothed to Princess Marianne of the kingdom Karthage. Marianne was a pain in the ass. She was staying with them and he couldn't stand it. She would rather sit inside and embroider or gossip or fuss over him. Her manners were too perfect. In fact everything about her was too perfect. Outside she was everything a well-bred tom could want. Her dark blue fur was always brushed and her clothes immaculate. She was soft spoken, sweet tempered (most of the time), and well mannered. But on the inside, she was a bitch. While, she was never blatantly mean, she still seemed to offend him with everything she said. Her light blue eyes were cold and almost stared right through him. She tended to obsess about things. Lately, her obsession was centered on him. She seemed to think it was her duty to properly educate him in everything she thought he lacked.
Princess Jallima and the rest of the court seemed to be immune to what he saw. While he had been brought up to be courteous to all queens and never offend them; what he really wanted to do was slap her.
In all reality, Marianne was the second choice. Desmond's first choice had been the princess of Mycelia, Diianna. But she had been catnapped several years ago and there was no ransom note, therefore nobody knew where she was. He remembered her slightly. He had played with her long ago at one of the fancy balls his father used to go to. He didn't remember too much about her except her sparkly blue eyes.
He didn't understand why he had to choose a queen. He wasn't even 18. He had three more years and then he would have to take Marianne as his mate. Three more years, then he'd be in hell. Sometimes he wished he was a queen. His twin sister, Jallima, didn't have to worry about being mated against her will. She would be able to choose her own mate when she turned 18.
He sighed as the tailor finally finished.
"Your Highness," he bowed. "I have finished fixing your clothes. You'll need to send someone to fetch them around noon tomorrow."
"Thank you again." Merrlonstrap said as cheerfully as he could. After the tailor left, he shrugged out of the formal clothes he was wearing. He put on his riding habit, grabbed his gloves and left. As he made his way out of the castle's inner halls, he saw Marianne talking to Jallima. He felt rather sorry for his sister, but he'd be damned if he went to relieve her. He was starting to get a headache just by thinking about her. Sometimes he hated himself. As a prince, he was supposed to be all smiles and charm. Not impatient and uncaring. He wished that he could just run away, but knew that he couldn't. It would put the kingdom in chaos. As much as he hated his life, he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing.
As he neared the stables, he heard the snorting of horses in an outdoor pen. As he walked up to them, he gave a low whistle. Three pairs of ears turned towards him. Two geldings and a mare trotted over to him. He held out his hand and a velvety muzzle lipped at the sugar there. A chestnut head thrust itself under his arm and he felt calm infiltrate into his mind. He patted them goodbye and went into the barn.
He heard the sound of hooves stomping and followed it to the end of the walkway, ignoring the heads looking at him. When he reached the last stall he looked in. there he was: the most magnificent horse in the world. Merrlonstrap could tell he was agitated by the light sheen of sweat covering the reddish-brown coat. His eyes were wild with fire, his nostrils flared and his hooves stomped the lush bedding below him. Merrlonstrap let himself in the stall and put a calm hand on the stallion's nose. He could see that Lightspur was starting to relax. "My thoughts exactly. Let's get out of here." He murmured as he hurriedly groomed and tacked him.
He led his horse to the mounting block and got up. As he settled himself into the saddle, he felt the powerful muscles beneath his thighs bunch up. He was raring to go. Well, go they would. The prince didn't have to be anywhere until later tonight for dinner.
He left his cares at the barn as he spurred Lightspur into a gallop. He felt the air rushing across his face. He felt his mount settle into a steady rhythm. Ba-da-dum, ba-da-dum, ba-da-dum. He moved with it and as they raced towards the horizon, he finally felt at peace with himself. His status didn't matter; Marianne didn't matter; nothing mattered at all right now. He was free!
