As she took the grand stairs leading into the courtyard from her tower, she noticed how unusually empty the ground was compared to a perfectly normal day. The princess looked down at her four-legged friend who gave a little whine but continued to follow her down the stairs. "I wonder what could be happening." Looking back up the young woman shrugged her shoulders and continued to make her way to the weapons room where her duelling partner, Sir Walter, awaited.
The walk to her father's prized weapons room was one that was all too familiar. She had been going to the room since before she could remember. In fact, she was sure it was where she was born (or so she liked to think). It was one of the only places she could still feel her father's presence after 7 brutal years without him and though she dreaded the treacherous training she was subjected to, she loved being in the room. Much like the library, it was one of the few places the princess tended to hide herself away in.
Nevertheless, the walk finally ended and she was standing in front of the weapons room; her loyal companion sat firmly at her side. Reaching for the knob of the door she gripped the brass fixture tightly and gave it a weak push. Sir Walter stood with his back to the door, a long sword in his rather large hands. The princess smiled at one of the three men she could trust with her life, memories of her father and Walter bickering filled her head. After a few minutes, the young woman cleared her throat in a feeble attempt to get the older male's attention.
"Ah, good." Walter said turning around to face the young woman, "You're here and it's about time too. Grab a sword and we'll get started." He walked over to the centre of the room and waited for the brunette to join him and when she finally did, they began to spar.
"Walter, do you remember what happened to my mother?" She asked after she had successfully knocked the steel sword from said male's hands. "I often find myself wondering what really did happen." She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, "I can not remember her face or voice on the best of days."
"It is probably not wise to bring up the past." He said before sitting down on one of the chairs in the corners of the large room. "In many ways, you are like your mother; noble and compassionate. You even share her love of fiction." At this the young woman smiled and looked down at the sleeping collie at her feet. "However, you are much like your father too; strong willed, stubborn, and dedicated." Walter reached down and gave a rough scratch to the sleeping dog's head. "Your mother was the love of your father's life, and it destroyed him when he lost her, Logan too. But you, you were the light of your mother's eye, the little girl she had always dreamed of. She had high expectations for you and it is a shame she never had the chance to see you grow and become the beautiful, strong woman you are today." He looked at the brunette, "She would be incredibly proud of you and that's all you should need to know, her and your father."
Not knowing what she should say, the princess simply nodded and looked down at the dog, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. After a few moments of silence she said, "Thank-you Walter. I think they would be too." She looked up and smiled at the greying man before standing from the chair she had plopped herself down after the duel. Dusting off her clothes, the young woman made her way to the large doors; the dog stirred awake by her sudden movement and sauntered beside her. "It was fun today, I think I'm making progress." She said over her shoulder not waiting for a reply before she exited the weapons room.
As the princess walked back down the corridor that lead to and from the weapons room, she stretched her arms out in front of her and closed her eyes a bit, letting out a small yawn. Beside the young woman came a growl, and it as one that she was all too familiar with. Opening her eyes, the princess noticed that she had now entered the main hall. Looking for the reason the loyal dog beside her continued to give her warning growls, the young woman spotted the raven haired male making his way up the steps of the castle. He looked elegant, as per usual, and much more smug. Puckering her soft lips the princess took a deep breath and held her ground, making eye contact with the tall, pale male. Smirking, Reaver continued walking, making his way to the throne room, no doubt meeting with her brother yet again.
"What on Earth could Logan have more to discuss with him?" She said under her breath, motioning for the collie to stand down and follow her to the gardens. She looked away from the moving business man, taking long deliberate strides towards the kitchen and back gardens.
Eye contact having been broken, the lanky, raven haired male looked over his shoulder at the retreating young princess, the smirk never leaving his face. He would have given her a snarky remark if he wasn't already wasting time with her witless brother. If he had to spend anymore time in this inferior castle he might as well take up residency and be crowned king. Reaver was sure he'd make a much better king than Logan, the creature could have the people of Albion for all he cared, as long as he was making money, he was happy, or relatively pleased. As he entered the throne room, Reaver took off his top hat and lazily bowed in front of the king. "Your royal highness." His tone of voice was something the court had come to deal with, knowing that it would never change. King Logan gave the tycoon a look before standing and asking the rest of the patrons to leave them, only keeping a few guards for safe measures. Behind the rather large group of people, the large, heavy doors closed, leaving the king and his "trusty" adviser alone.
The princess could spend the entirety of a day just walking through the gardens, tossing a ball carelessly for her faithful companion. The young woman could not imagine a more comfortable place for her to be. That was excluding the arms of her lover. She smiled as the large tomb of her father and mother came into view. It was just one of many places she could truly escape and be physically close to her parents again. Taking the ball from the mouth of the collie, the princess gave the ball a hard toss through the garden, knowing that the dog would be able to find the small object with no hesitation or hassle. She sat on one of the many benches and gazed at the tomb. The young woman inhaled slightly and closed her eyes, picturing her father sitting beside her, telling tales of his adventures and the people he had met on them. She smiled at the thought of the not so long ago past. Nothing could have ruined her afternoon.
Hearing a whine from her feet, she looked down, a smile still graced her lips, "Oh, alright! But this is the last one, it's almost time for tea." She said to her wide eyed friend, picking up the saliva covered ball which he had gently placed on the grass at her feet. Giving the dog a look, the princess tossed her arm back and gave the ball a hard toss, harder than the one before. In a blink of an eye, the collie had took off after the red object. The woman laughed and began to stand, wiping her clothes of dirt. She walked over to the side of the tomb and placed her hand against the cold stone. "I'll see you guys later." She whispered closing her eyes and leaning her head down ever so slightly.
"Well, isn't this a heart wrenching scene! Well, it would be if I had one." The princess looked up at the source of the voice, confused and a bit startled. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, ma petite, I would have never guessed that the Princess of Albion was so sensitive. No. Not sensitive, perturbed over the loss of her parents when it is obvious her older, wiser, brother simply does not care." Reaver cocked an eyebrow, "Or so it would seem."
Becoming enraged, the princess dropped her hand from the side of her parents final resting place and turned to face the male fully. "You cold hearted, arrogant bastard! You haven't the foggiest idea of what my brother feels towards the loss of my parents! You don't know anything!" She said in a venomous tone, her grace and teachings momentarily forgotten in her rage. The young brunette stormed towards the older, taller male, her face the colour of the ripest apple. She stopped in front of him, her hands balled into fists; nails digging into the callused palms of her hands. "I would suggest you kindly leave, as I am assuming that my brother and your King is finished with you."
"I do not believe I will take my leave." The placid male said, a growing smirk taking it's place upon his lips. "I am rather intrigued by your sudden rage. It is quite fetching. Red is incredibly becoming on you, might I add." The raven haired male leaned on his ever present cane and with a gloved hand, began to reach for the young woman's lips. "Especially here. Oh the connotations that would come with it! A site I would, regrettably, pay to see." He let out a slight chuckle, "Ma petite's lips, puckered and stained with red." Reaver gave a fake sigh at the thought.
Utterly appalled, the Princess smacked his hand away and pushed past him. What could she say, she was much too disgusted to think of a witty comeback. As she made her way up the garden's central staircase, she could not shake the feeling of his piercing gaze on her back. She shivered in revulsion not noticing the loping animal coming towards her. When the animal was close enough, his ears flattened against his head and a growl was expelled from his throat. "Please," She whispered to the collie, "let's just get inside." With a look to his master, the dog followed the fast walking young woman into the kitchen of the castle. She paused for a moment to let one of the kitchen staff know that she would be taking tea in the library. With a nod to the princess, the woman began to prepare the brunette's afternoon tea. Without a glance over her shoulder, the princess made her way to the castle library, her pace never slowing. It wasn't until she was leaning against the hard wood of the now closed doors that she finally let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding.
There came a gentle knock to the doors of the only place she could faintly remember her mother. Looking up from the book she was numbly reading, the princess answered it with a 'please come in'. The older woman, who could be recognized as the smaller woman in the kitchen the princess asked to bring her tea, slipped through the large doors and closed them behind her. Making her way over to the lounge the young woman was resting on, the kitchen hand placed the tray of tea, milk, and sugar onto the table to the left of the princess. "Is there anything else I can do for you my lady?" The older woman asked giving a quick bow.
Looking down to the drowsy animal beside her, the princess smiled and then nodded, "Please, if you wouldn't mind, could you retrieve a lamb's bone from the stew pot?" With a nod, the kitchen maid bowed and then left the room, making sure to close the door behind her. With a sigh, the young woman wrapped her fingers around the handle of the tea pot, lifting it so the spout was over the bone china cup, spilling amber liquid into it. Two lumps of sugar and a dash of milk later, the princess sat with the warm cup in her hand, the book she was once reading discarded beside her. She closed her eyes and let the heat emanating from the cup warm her hands and spread up her arms. Lifting the china cup to her lips, the princess took a quick sip. Again there came a knock at the door and she opened her eyes, giving permission for the other party to enter the room. Again the older woman slipped through the door, platter in hand. On the silver platter, there was a bowl and a rather large chunk of lamb and bone inside. "Thank-you." The brunette said as the other woman placed the platter on the nearest table. "That will be all."