A black haired woman sat atop a chestnut horse, dressed in a red gown and her hair braided in the front, ribbons tying up her hair in the back. A decorated cap kept her hair covered. Next to her on a spotted horse was a slightly heavyset man with brown hair, clothed in a cream colored doublet and a matching cap. Rustling could be heard from the nearby brush, and the woman raised her stonebow. A hare came running out of the undergrowth of the forest, and the woman pulled the trigger. Without a look at the hare or what happened to it, the man spoke up, “Abigail! Have you ever even hunted before? Your aim needs improvement!” He chuckled, under the assumption that Abigail had missed her target. 

She smugly pointed at the corpse of the hare. “More than you have, Edwynn. Why, you didn’t even look before you passed your judgement.” A few courtiers that were behind the pair chortled quietly. Edwynn looked back and glared, causing the courtiers to quiet themselves. He wouldn’t be shown up by a woman. “The day is young, and a hare is only a small amount of meat. By the end of it all I’ll have much more than you!” Edwynn proclaimed, certain that he would best her.

Edwynn sat on a bench in the palace gardens, staring at a nearby fountain, his mind elsewhere. What year did that happen? It was before they had children, he was certain of that much. Maybe it was 1553, or 1554, he couldn’t quite recall. The elderly monarch stayed still, thinking about his wife and their relationship before she passed into the halls of the saints. He would meet her soon, he was sure of it. She was one of his only true companions in a mass of people who followed the crown, that same mass caring little for him as a person.

That’s why he was here! His mind focused back to what he was supposed to be doing next. His daughter was to see him. He was going to tell her the good news about her marriage. How it would shape the relationship between Reheba and Vohemia. “You wished to see me, father?” A soft voice from behind him spoke. Edwynn turned his head around, his attention focused on Greta. Edwynn nearly choked up at seeing her. It was as if someone had carved out an exact likeness of Abigail, save for the one feature he had given her; his nose. “Come, sit next to me.” Greta complied, and sat next to her father on the stone bench.

 “Greta. You have been talking about me finding you a suitable husband for quite some time,” He began. She interrupted him by asking a barrage of questions, her neutral demeanor transforming into one of glee. “Who is he, father? Is he tall? Is he a prince, or a duke? How old is he? Where does he come from? Is-“ Edwynn raised his hand, “Still your tongue, girl.” Greta quieted herself, a smile still on her lips. Edwynn continued with a hint of amusement in his eyes, “According to what I have been told, he has black hair, and is fourteen. I don’t know if he is tall, or any of his other physical attributes. He’s from Vohemia. I’m sure you’ve heard of Prince Stepan before.”

Greta’s smile turned into a frown, “Fourteen? Does he have pimples? I bet he has pimples! Being that age he’ll probably be grabby too!” Greta exclaimed. Edwynn sighed and rubbed his forehead, “Greta.  You won’t be marrying him now. You’re just betrothed to him. The wedding will happen in two years.” The princess’ voice dripped with sarcasm, “Two years! I’m sure all of the pimples and the lecherous attitude will be gone by then!” Edwynn remembered one of the reasons why he wanted to marry off Greta. Sarcastic comments were alright every now and then, but with the frequency that his daughter fired them from her mouth he was afraid that it would jam. 

“Greta,” He started, “Neither you nor I have met Prince Stepan. I’m certain he’s a wonderful lad, and will be an even greater man in two years. I’m sure the pimples will clear away with time as well.” Greta looked about ready to say something else, but Edwynn spoke before she could, “Greta, your comments will be your downfall if you keep them up. Curb this attitude you have and accept your betrothal. He was the best option that we had!” Edwynn almost shouted.

Greta opened her mouth to speak, but her father glared at her, as if daring her to say another comment. She decided not to speak, and instead went inside the palace in a huff. “We have two years to turn her into a respectable lady and convince her that this decision was the proper one,” Edwynn thought aloud, “Good. Ample time to at least stop her from making her damnable comments.” The elderly king shook his head, and then bowed it in prayer.

[hider=Summary]
[list]
[*]The king sits on a bench in the palace garden, reminiscing about his wife.
[*]The monarch recalls why he was sitting there in the first place; he had called his daughter to talk about her betrothal.
[*]Greta, his daughter shows up.
[*]The king tells her about her betrothal to Prince Stepan.
[*]She is not pleased, but only manages to make one sarcastic remark.
[*]Edwynn is sure that he can convince Greta to more fully accept the betrothal, and bows his head in prayer.
[/list]
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