"You're a fool."
"You're an oaf."
"Minx!"
"Blunderer!"
"GIRLS! GIRLS! We have company!" Areida soft tones admonished her daughters' bickering.
"Oh Areida, I am no more company than a strange great-aunt." Delilah said, grinning. It always felt like she was one of their family.
"Oh not strange at all, Delilah, my dear." Areida ushered Symone and Lilian out of the dining room, still quietly fighting.
"My sisters are the bravest wenches in Ayortha. To talk to such a noble Kyrrian in such a way." Fenric, the eldest son, joked.
"Oh, not so noble, Fenric, for just yesterday, I was not a noble at all, but a mere gardener, scurrying about the hedges of my master's menagerie, succeeding in ripping my dress beyond repair." Just to listen to a stranger sing.
"Well, I don't doubt it Delilah. You always did have a green thumb."
"And a pair of clumsy feet." Everyone laughed goodheartedly.
"Dinner is served." Areida smiled pleasantly at her dinner guest.
"So, Delilah," Bevaun, the second eldest son, spoke through an extra helping of mashed potatoes, "How fares your visit in Ayortha?"
"Well, quite truthfully, I miss Kyrria, but I'm so excited to go to one of your sings! Isn't the next one coming up soon?"
"The next one is tomorrow night I thought." Lola, the youngest girl replied, her voice squeaking with excitement.
"I believe, Lola. And it's not tomorrow, but the day after tomorrow." Symone replied, having finished her feud with Lilian.
"Would you like to come with us, Delilah?" Cyril, Areida's husband, requested, his eyes shining.
"YE- I mean, I believe that would be lovely." Delilah put on a silly face for them, making fun of her royal politeness.
Bevaun snorted into his cup of juice and the table roared with laughter.
One more day till the sing. I can make it till then. Although tried as she might, she could not help being boring during another Ayorthaian court session.
"The number of cows producing milk in Ayortha has grown steadily throughout the years..." Delilah noticed something fluttering across the hall. It had to be more interesting than this court.
"Pardon, your Majesty." Delilah excused herself from the court and strolled towards the corridor. A brightly colored piece of parchment skittered down the hall. Delilah followed it as it blew through the halls by the gusty fall wind, though she knew that she should be listening to the court's issues. A sudden violent burst of wind whipped her dark hair from the bun that held it, and blew the parchment through an open window. Delilah leaned out of the window to catch it, but it only persistently avoided her.
"May I help you, Your Highness?" Delilah turned and was met with a sneering face.
"Breck. How unlikely that you would find me here. Did you walk all the way from Jenn to scorn me?" He merely smirked, his curly blonde hair caught in the wind, making him look like some dangerous war hero.
"Of course not, Your Highness. I have royal affairs to attend to."
Liar.
"With Ayortha?"
"Royal affairs with a Kyrrian princess in an Ayorthaian court." Delilah sighed and Breck grinned, a smile that would weaken the knees of any maiden that didn't know better.
Unfortunately Delilah wasn't one of those maidens.
"Oh, how your charm has just captured me, Breck, but I must return to court. The Ayorthaian nobles must be looking for me." Delilah turned, but Breck grabbed her arm.
"You know as well as I do that the court will not miss you, Princess. Come with me."
"It would do you much better to release me, Breck." Her green eyes shot daggers at him and Breck loosed his grip for a moment, in shock. He returned his fierce grip when Delilah tried to turn away.
"Is there a problem here?" The singing stranger! Delilah quickly slipped out of Breck's grip.
"Why, Sir Alaric! I thought that must be you. I was thinking that we must discuss the Ayorthaian rule on traditional apparel in the court. Have you seen what High Chancellor Aymon used to wear? Ridiculous!" Delilah linked arms with the bewildered stranger and strode down the hall, only to hear Breck remark-
"We shall meet again, Your Highness." And with a bow, he was gone.
"Sir Alaric?" The singing stranger whispered.
"First name I thought of." Delilah smiled, "Thank you for helping me. What is your name, Sir Alaric?"
"I am Sir Emlyn of Bast, and who might you be? You do not look Ayorthaian."
"I am Princess Delilah of Kyrria."
"Your Highness." He bowed politely, and she curtsied, though she made a funny face. He didn't seem to notice.
"Please, don't bother with all those fancy titles. Call me Delilah, Sir Emlyn."
"Well then call me Emlyn. What are you doing wandering the corridors at this hour? Isn't court in session?"
"Perhaps it is." Delilah was getting bored with the conversation.
"Perhaps you would like for Sir Alaric to escort you out of here and away from these boring court sessions?" Delilah laughed, surprised.
"Lead the way, Noble Alaric."