Stood up on the castle turrets, there was nobody to interfere – no nobles, no administrators, no Laren Mapstone breathing disapprovingly down his neck. Zachary found it slightly annoying, and not a little ironic, that the only refuge he could find within his own walls was the roof.
He sighed, looking out over the city, so small and untroubled by the politics that so caged him. They were probably all looking forward to the royal wedding that would take place in just a few short days. The entire kingdom would take a day's holiday in celebration of the event, and the peasantry always did love an excuse to have a party. It was a shame their king wasn't in so jubilant a mood.
Was it really to be so soon? Zachary could see all along the Winding Way garlands of flowers and decorations being lined for the procession that would meander its way to the heart of the city. In the castle, every corridor was permeated with the smells of cooking and crowded with pages scurrying here and there on final, last minute errands.
The Weapon, Willis, shifted slightly in the shadow he was occupying. The King turned back to his view.
Beyond the city, already being encircled by a newly commissioned wall (D'yer work, of course), lay the Green Cloak, stretching as far as the horizon, and many horizons beyond, containing so many unseen hazards: brigands, wild beasts, members of Second Empire. The thought of such shadows made him tremble.
Karigan was out there, delivering messages penned by him or at least on his orders. Every day he came up here, just for a few moments, to get away from the court, to feel the breeze in his hair, but most importantly to scan the treeline for her figure emerging along the road. And every day he left with a burdened heart, because he couldn't stand not knowing how she was, and every day she didn't return was another day that he might have killed her. The woman he loved.
These were not thoughts a king should be having before his wedding.
Movement on the edge of the Green Cloak caught his attention. A figure in green, riding an ungainly animal at an easy canter, came into the sunlight. Zachary pulled out his telescope from a pocket and focussed it on the Rider. Thank the Gods, it was Karigan, none the worse for wear save a little bit muddy and tired. His heart leapt to see her face.
He turned away with reluctance. That far off glimpse would probably be the last time he would see his love's face before his wedding. It wouldn't do to dwell. He was the King, and his duty lay to his kingdom, even if he had to sacrifice his heart for that ideal.
"Come, Willis, we will return to the vultures," the King sighed, descending the steps to the apartments below. As he walked, the feelings that were so much a part of him sloughed off his back like plumage plucked from an eagle; they had no place in the life he was about to enter into.
