[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/H2Xwjg4.png[/img]
[I] “[b]T[/b]his is not the duty of a noble. I should still be in bed right now.”[/i]
[h3][color=lightblue]S A E .[/color][/h3][/center]

	[b]A[/b]s much as he wanted to say help had been delivered, Saewine just knew that Dorran had not paid much attention to them. The egotistical arsehole had shooed them away no quicker than his last words had touched the air. What a way to go! He had wanted, if only marginally, for his words to have reached the Prince. For a letter or order for him to be sent back home but none of that came. 

	[b]S[/b]aewine waited with his arms folded over his chest and his back leaning on the cold stone of the castle. His agitation was obvious but for what reason he was sure no one could guess. He let his brows frown as Dorran's self-praise slipped through the cracks of the wall. [color=lightblue][i][b]I[/b] wish I was a King. Not even noble power can grant me the reigns of destiny.[/i][/color] He reflected. 

	[b]A[/b]s soon as Terryn was dismissed, the man's heavy footfalls approached quickly. Once outside the door, a quiet flow of curses flew out. All of which was pointed towards Dorran. Saewine found his eyes wide with awe and a small smirk on his lips from the similar feelings. He just wouldn't have used such crude words ... in such a manner. Afterwards, the three of them marched through the dimly lit castle, always being greeted by the fiery shade of a burning torch. 

	[b]S[/b]aewine walked silently. He had neither the will or want to discuss his duties. The others were strong warriors and while he felt safe, he also knew there was a possibility that he'd be alone. Passing by the dark scenery with indifference, he felt rage course through him. Before long, Terryn sent them off on their own. He fixed his face to be some-what pleasant as he paused amongst Warren and Laurence. 

	[b]T[/b]he dark haired youth mentally reached out for Laurence or Warren but pulled himself back. No. He felt exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. That had become the norm for him now-a-days. With a single-hand he waved them good-night and strode back towards the Black Shields barracks. Ready to lay his weary head to rest. 

	[b]H[/b]e awoke heavy-lidded and drowsy. Sleep had not come easy—he had caught but two hours of it—and now he rebuked Terryn with a wrath unseen. Garbed in Black Shield attire, shortsword on his hip, and heater shield latched to his arm; Saewine found an empty table and while pretending to inspect it, found himself seated. His head lolled as he fought the heavy grip of the sandman.  

	[b]D[/b]arkness took over as a blink became a three minute blackout. When he awoke again, he stood to his feet and rubbed his head furiously, his black eyes nothing but dull and heavy lead. [color=lightblue] “[b]T[/b]his is not the duty of a noble. I should still be asleep right now.”[/color] He muttered before cluelessly trailing away from his station. 

	While walking he paused at a beautiful portrait of Princess Erica. He instantly remembered that she was to be betrothed to a suitor that had not been found yet. He imagined it being himself. [color=lightblue][i][b]I[/b]f I married Princess Erica than I could be free from this nonsense. I could return home and feel the breeze of my land's summer; the courtyard's dried leaves on my bare feet … The safety of Bloodworth Keep, not to mention the crown.[/i][/color]

	A still figure in the hall, Saewine found himself hypnotized by the image.  [color=lightblue] “[b]S[/b]he's beautiful. I wouldn't mind dying for [i]her[/i] … I suppose.”[/color]  

	[color=lightblue][i][b]F[/b]atigue must be rambling my thoughts.[/i][/color]  He chuckled weakly.