"And this will be the quarters for the incoming Princess, my liege. Is it satisfactory?" Polkos Manathias chuckled at Jervo's question, the former's broad shouldered frame crossing the thresh hold before letting out a slight whistle.
"I've never seen this guest room furnished so lavishly before. Lavender trimmed curtains, indigo bedding, the walls covered in all sorts of tapestries encouraging the person in here to almost worship our history..." He turned to face the head attendant of the Manathias clan with a smirk.
"I do believe you're trying to indoctrinate our Dasvrochian beauty into believing that her culture doesn't have the proud history ours does." Jervo took a sharp inhale, exhaling as his narrow lips pursed together before they opened with response:
"Prince Polkos, you know that I have decorated this area with the utmost care that both the King and Queen intended and-" Polkos waved his hand with a chuckle, strolling out of the room.
"Please, I know how much mother and father want their new future daughter-in-law to feel welcome, although I don't know how well she'll take to being in a guest quarter for a couple of weeks while the wedding preparations are being...prepared." The playful mirth that had usually bounced in his verdant irises disappeared, right hand rubbing the back of his neck, destroying whatever style the groomer had instilled to Polkos' ash brown hair.
"My liege, is anything the matter?" Hand returning to his side, Polkos turned his head, shoulders once more in their proud, erect position.
"Just realizing how...important this all is." Jervo walked to his side, placing a gentle hand on the Prince's arm.
"You will make a strong husband and an even more effective leader, my liege. Do not doubt yourself now."
"Always know what to say, don't you?" A slight smile.
"It IS my job to address the royal family's needs, is it not?" The duo proceeded from the end of the stone hallway(accentuated by a grand painting of the Rings of the Capital, of course) and marched down a spiral staircase, Jervo informing:
"You will need to put on your formal attire for the ceremony later tonight."
"I figured. Anything else my parents need to remind me of? To button my pants? To take the lady's hand and kiss it gently instead of slobbering over her upon first meeting?" Jervo clucked his tongue, shaking his head.
"The tribes have all sent their head leaders along with their Avatar. Please understand that your parents are fraught with ensuring every last detail goes well."
"Don't I know it." Entering a lower level hallway, they passed a bustling set of caters whizzing past them with trays stacked to the heavens with all kinds of foodstuffs that needed to be prepared.
"You do have some free time before the ceremony. I suggest you run through your speech one more time before presenting yourself."
"Don't worry, Jervo. I might have spent some time away, but I can still pull off the acceptance speech with a straight face." The main hall was where they found themselves, the cathedral high ceilings painted with an elaborate map of the Continent with various symbols representing historical events in the formation of Metaschi, the "Middle Kingdom", the "Rings of Peace", the "Unifying factor" for peace. Underneath the ostentatious display, banners were unfurling from the rafters, the main gate wide open for servants and other contributing members of the gala to make ready for one of the monumental events in history.
"Just be at your parent's side by seven o clock tonight."
"I'll be there."
"Please do."

________________

Garbed a dark purple tunic and black pants with gold trim, Polkos looked at himself in the full size mirror and snorted a laugh.
"To think this would be my fate." He muttered, adjusting the buttoned vest over the tunic, wincing at the slightly-too-tight fit that the tailor had made. He could only hope that his betrothed didn't see the discomfort in his face when they first met. Not that he was totally comfortable with the idea of being married to someone he had never seen. This idea was one he fought against upon being officially reinstated into the family, but he had signed up for this when he came back. He knew that.

Blowing out a sigh, he approached a nearby dresser, running his hand over the leather straps hanging pitifully off the hilt of a worn dagger. It hadn't been moved for ten months. He preferred it that way. To remind himself of the sweeping plains, the wind ruffling through his hair, the smell of copper and dirt and lilac and-

Something thumped against the door, a brow shooting upward as Polkos walked to the door, opening it to find the source of the disturbance.

Illyria's mind was pulled from daydreaming at the sight of the reception ahead of her. Behind her, in an intricately decorated carriage, Princess Maleea of Dasvrochi sat comfortably atop a pile of furs, surrounded by her ladies in waiting. Illyria, also one of her attendants, travelled ahead on horseback.

The men that traveled with them seemed to be just as impressed, whispering among each other like school children. Back home, such luxury would have been frowned upon on the best of days. Groups of people in beautifully crafted clothes stood waiting expectantly, stealing looks at the carriage in the hopes of catching a sight of their new Princess to be.

They came to a stand still and someone promptly took the reins of her horse. She dismounted and grabbed the stable boy's arm before her could escape.

"Give him some honeyed water, would you? It's been a long journey" she said as she patted the animal's neck. Weeks at sea and another two on the road had left everyone feeling weary, especially the animals.

Illyria felt as if all of them stood out from the royal beauty of Metaschi. She wore one of her best tunics, trimmed in a beautiful sapphire color that matched her dark brown hair and even darker eyes. But here in the middle of such wealth, she felt completely displaced.

Illy had been selected as a handmaid to the princess two years before, when she was only 18. Defiant to the bone on marriage, her mother and father had resigned themselves to providing the best possible option for an 18 year old woman that did not wish to be married. The other attendants to the princess were much younger, the oldest a mere 17, all with sparkling eyes and hopes of finding a husband from Metaschi. Illy, without really asking for it, seemed to have been put in charge of all the younger ones.

She turned to them now as they helped the princess from the carriage. Maleea had beautiful waist length blonde hair, a rare appearance for a Dasvrochian. Most had tan skin and dark hair, like Illyria. The princess had beautiful green eyes, and wore a golden gown adorned with hundreds of small gems. She truly looked worthy of a God. If only she had the temper to match it, Illyria thought sadly.

Gasps ensued as the procession marched forward, Maleea at the front escorted by her ladies. Before too much gossip could ensue they were shown to their quarters, beautifully decorated in Metaschi colors and emblems. As soon as instructions had been given for dinner and they had been left alone, Maleea's smile dropped and the handmaids looked sullen.

"Well he must be very rich, at least" Maleea said with an eye roll. She walked around touching everything as if to prove its quality.

"I hear he is very handsome as well, my lady. I am sure you will make a spectacular couple. Just imagine, everyone will want to be you!" one of the younger girls said.

Maleea looked at her and grunted dismissively.

"Whatever the case, get me out of these clothes. Annalise, read to me. Something less boring than usual. Marta, do my hair. Properly this time, if you don't mind" she waved at the two girls who set to their tasks.

A few hours went by as the women acquainted themselves with the quarters, delighting in the fragrances found inside the small drawers and chests. Maleea motioned for Illyria to come closer.

"I was told to let them know when we're ready. Go inform the master of ceremonies, would you" she said as she applied rouge to her cheeks. Illyria nodded and walked to the other room, adjusting her very unimpressive dress and hair. It also fell above her waist, but it was much curlier than Maleea's beautiful locks.

She walked through the corridors, following the directions given to her by a kitchenmaid but getting extremely lost in the process. An opulent looking door stood before her and she knocked, almost falling backwards when she was greeted by Prince Polkos face.

"Holy sh--" she said as she took a step backwards, and then remembered to finally curtsy and take a deep bow.

"Your highness, I very much apologize. I was told to find the Master of Ceremonies and I got lost." with her head bowed, she walked backwards until she hit the wall and cursed under her breath. She scurried away quickly, her face flushing. Hopefully Maleea would not hear of this.

--------

They walked into the hall, Maleea shining like a million stars at the front followed by the handmaids, Illyria at the back. Music stopped and people gasped as she walked past and was led to the top of the room to a massive wooden chair carved with rubies and emeralds. She sat down and offered a smile. Illyria and the handmaids sat to the side, near one of the further walls. Whatever they did, they wouldn't be noticed tonight. Not with Maleea shining her light all over the hall.

Polkos chuckled, returning the bow before examining the girl before him with an amused glance. She was Dasvrochian for sure. Her smooth gait, her dark irises, her brown hair...even the slight lilt he thought he heard in her voice gave her away. Most argued with him about the "Dasvrochian accent", but he felt that the way they strung words together was almost musical in nature, like they wanted to burst into song at any given moment. It was a joy to hear most of the time. The few occasions that he dreaded hearing it was during his time abroad when he became all too familiar with certain unsavory characters that broke off from the main tribes and hired themselves out as sellswords or joined up with bandits to raid villages along the coast.

But enough of that. As the assumed servant of his soon to be bride reminded him, he needed to be at the ceremony and quickly. He swiftly made his way down to the main hall, entering from the rear, which naturally hid his appearance due to the high stone facade that served as an elevated platform for his parents respective thrones. A few steps located on both sides allowed for quick entrance and exit of servants and others who waited on royalty. Taking the stairs on the left, he found the two thrones bedecked in the normal dazzling array of jewels, but this time there were two more, one stationed to the right, the other to the left. He had seen two of these ceremonies in the past when both his younger and twin sisters were married off within the span of a year, so he knew that his position would be...
"To the right, Polk." His father's booming voice commanded, a small smile on his wide, cherub like face.
"Of course, father." His mother entered from a door on the right side of the main hall, smiling and chatting with the growing crowd of nobility that was filtering in before the actual ceremony.
"I'm proud of you, son." Igni Manathias proclaimed, sitting on his normal throne, motioning for his son to join him.
"And why is that?"
"For everything. Your return to us, your willingness to participate in the making of history...and not putting up too much of a fuss." Polk laughed heartily as he responded:
"I wouldn't want to be too much of a bother, although you had it too easy with Kyla and Nubi. I needed to be the prodigal one to keep you on your toes."
"I wish that hadn't been the case, but alas, the Divines have a purpose for all things, do they not?" More nobility pushed their way onto both sides of the hall, necks craning to catch a glimpse of their future queen. Their present queen took her place next to her father, but not before kissing her son on the forehead and telling him how "wonderful it was" that he would be a "happily married man" in a few short weeks. Polkos shifted uneasily in the hard-backed throne, looking ahead to spot torch light from across the bridge. Mutters of expectation flitted through the crowd as the torches grew closer, their bearers walking ahead to guide the Dasvrochian princess(Maleea, right? Right. That was her name.), who was garbed in the most elaborate attire he had ever seen a Dasvrochian wear. She proceeded with her handmaidens flanking her, one of which Polkos recognized as the girl who had bumped into his door. She was much more composed now, which made her appearance seem just as regal as his future wife. Maleea had her girls trained well, it seemed.

After Maleea took her seat next to the Queen, who gave her a loving squeeze of the hand, prompting Igni to stand and proclaim:
"This, my fellow citizens, is a moment paramount in all of history. We have desired unity and peace for the entire Continent and have found it sorely lacking...until this day. This would not have been made possible by the gracious Avatar of the Dasvrochian people, the spokesperson for all the tribes. Please, step forward my friend and say a few words." Applause came as a lithe figure emerged from the left, his angular face and tanned skin complimenting his dark eyes and jet black hair. He nodded towards the King before addressing the crowd:
"Our tribes have agreed that we must consolidate our Kingdoms to ensure the good of all our people. After much deliberation and discussion, we join our hands with yours in an alliance that will last for an Eternity. May the Divines and the Earth on which we stand be glorified by our harmonious efforts." More applause and cheers whooped through the crowd, Polkos joining in it himself; after all, he had seen the devastation brought on by the all too recent border skirmishes between the two kingdoms. Tensions were running high over scarce resources that the other wanted, but instead of declaring war(like in the past), there would be this alliance. Maybe this marriage would be a worthy sacrifice...it didn't hurt Maleea was quite beautiful. He wanted to see whether or not that beauty was in her heart as well. He knew he would have a chance soon, which was vocalized by King Igni:
"Now, my friends, let us assemble in the Banquet hall for feasting, for dancing, for the first peaceful night of all eternity!" People knew the drill. With arranged marriages like this, a feast would be held in honor of the future marriage, but the bride and groom to be would have a chance to interact in the main hall by themselves to get acquainted before they had to make any public appearances together. Once all had vacated(except for the handmaidens...they seemed to always stay behind), Polkos rose and walked to Maleea, taking her hand and gently kissing it before telling her with a chuckle:
"Aren't you glad that's all over? we can at least get to talk for a few minutes before we get shoved into the public eye together." He adjusted his tunic before sitting next to her, casually folding a leg over the other.
"I honestly don't know what to say..." Another chuckle.
"Happy to make your acquaintance? I suppose that'll do." He sighed gently, then smiled genuinely.
"You look beautiful, Maleea. Some have described your beauty, but words can only do so much." Flattery should do the trick, right?

Illyria watched The exchange with eager eyes. It had been months of preparation for the moment they were watching unfold in front of them. Maleea flashed her delicate smile and brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking as doe eyed and charming as possible. The younger handmaids watched in anticipation, giddy with excitement.

"Very lovely to meet you as well, Prince Polkos. You are not so hard on the eyes either" Maleea said sweetly as she offered a small curtsy. It took all Illyria had in her to not roll her eyes and sigh.

Many moons ago, Maleea had been Illyria's closest friend. Her parents lived in the Dasvrochian capital and often traded with the Dome, Dasvrochi's principal building where the royals lived for most of the year. Her father had been a merchant, trading in foreign books and precious curiosities. Her mother, filled with adventure and fluent in many dialects, was the perfect fit for him. They raised Illyria among books, foreign spices, and entrancing music.

She uad developed a taste for horseback riding at a very young age, and had been enlisted in the Dome's academy for talented riders. That's where she had met Maleea, clumsy and sulking atop a beautiful black steed on their first day. Maleea had dropped out, but Illyria had continued her studies until her 18th birthday, and upon realizing she did not wish to get married, had been enlisted by the Queen herself, Maleea's mother, as an attendant.

As she watched Maleea use her quick charming sit, Illyria could only hope that her often sullen, picky princess would at least find happiness with someone.

Once acquaintances were made, the procession entered into the great hall where feasting seemed to be underway. Out of the corner of her eye, Illy spotted a tall young man covered in Metaschi colors, an elegant sword strapped onto his waist. He winked at her, and heat rose to her face.

What was she doing, mucking about with winking men? She shook her head and focused on finding their seats, as people formed patient lines to talk to greet Maleea.

"Oh goody, another handful of lovely uneducated people" Maleea whispered to Illy, still with a smile plastered on her face.

"Yes, your highness" Illy replied nonchalantly, tending to a loose strand of hair falling out from Maleea's pin up.

The greeting line was reserved exclusively for the party visiting, which would be Maleea and her party in this case. The Avatar, whose name Polkos nor anyone except probably his parents knew, stood close to the Princess and did his political duty of accepting whatever praise bestowed on Maleea as compliments towards the entire Dasvrochian government. Thankfully, Polk was freed to do as he pleased until the processional was over, which he assumed would take quite a while. Their first "official" appearance would feature the duo seated at the very northern end of the banquet hall, where a row of wooden tables stood decorated with food, drink and the most elaborate set of cutlery that the Metaschi empire could provide. He made small talk with a few nobles, but mainly watched the processional from a distance, his future bride maintaining her composure during the entire exchange. It was admirable to see. She seemed to be holding up rather well under the intense scrutiny that was occurring not only from the nobles in the line, but the other onlookers who were whispering in hushed tones about her "glimmering hair" or how lucky the Kingdom was to have such a "wonderful bearer of the bloodline". Allusions to children made Polk want to simultaneously laugh and sob...so, lob? Saugh? Children was an odd subject for him to consider. He had, after all, engaged in so much travel that thinking about becoming a family man was odd. But, he reminded himself, he knew this would happen. Every trot his horse took towards the Rings was one step closer to his subjugation to a realm of political nonsense that he had specifically wanted to leave behind. Speaking of political nonsense, he should probably be prepared to give a speech. Nobility liked speeches.

_______________________

Three. Hours.

Polk rushed into his personal quarters and nearly ripped the tunic he had on in half as he stripped himself of the royal attire, finding a loose fitting short sleeved shirt that was in a drawer and placed it on his upper half. Replacing his lower half attire with similarly fitting pants, he smiled in relief. The feast went well, but all of the consumption that he indulged in, the lengthy address he had to make to appease those who clamored for one and the vast amount of conversation he had with all sorts of people had made him frustratingly anxious. He wanted to be released from the shackles of royal clothing an hour ago...and now, finally, he had found his release.

Well, temporarily.

When the hall was emptied, his parents and the Avatar firmly reminded the two that the wedding ceremony would be in TWO weeks(emphasis on two) and that they were only to be in each other's company with the presence of attendants until after their marriage. Polk wanted to object, but then again, every movement they made would be closely scrutinized. There were also whispers of unrest from the Koufkelians about the union, which made both parents and Avatar insist that there were people presented around at all times while they were together. Assassination attempts were not to be taken lightly.

Another minor annoyance would be that he couldn't just walk over to the other end of the castle and have a conversation with his betrothed. She was going to be engaged in wedding preparations and as such would need as much time necessary. A servant was chosen to act as messenger between them, which was coincidentally the same girl that had bumped into his door. He requested for her presence after the feast to inquire about his future bride's personality, interests, and other little things he would like to know. It was admittedly a bit grade-school on his part, but he couldn't just walk into a marriage without knowing a LITTLE bit about his-

A knock came at the door.
"It's unlocked!"

Illyria was exhausted. She felt as if she had spent the entire night making useless small talk with nobles and high ranking courtesans, something she didn't have the stomach for on the best of days. To top it off, the other 4 girls had been so dazzled by the entire affair that they had barely performed their duties.

On their way back to Maleea's lavish quarters, the handsome man who had winked at her earlier tapped her on the arm and introduced himself.

"My name is Luka, I have been instructed to inform you that Prince Polkos requires your presence in an hour. He wishes to discuss his betrothed, and for you to be a kind of messenger between them" he said after he took a small bow. He had long black lashes and tan skin, much like Illyria. She could have sworn there was some Dasvrochian in him.

"Oh. Yes, certainly. Thank you." she said with a small curtsy back. She resumed her place ahead in the procession and followed Maleea and the girls back to her quarters. Once inside, the task of undressing and bathing Maleea, and sorting out all of her garments and jewels took a lot longer than she had expected. She would be late to the summoning if she didn't hurry.

"Princess, I have been summoned by one of the prince's men to serve as a messenger between the two of you. He would like me to meet him tonight. Am I allowed to go?" she asked, fearing the answer.

Maleea's head snapped and the mention of the sprint, causing the golden hairbrush to fall from Marta's hand.

"What does he want with you? Send one of the others" she said with a dismissive wave of the hand. Illyria sighed and prepared herself for what was to come. Many years ago, when they were both in their teens, Maleea had taken a fancy to the son of a very powerful merchant who attended the riding academy with them. His name was Marten, and he had been somewhat of an idol to Illy. He was a brilliant rider, wealthy, intelligent and kind. When Illy turned 18, and much to Maleea's dismay, Marten asked for her hand in marriage. Illy declined, but Maleea's already sour disposition grew even more resentful.

"Princess, he has asked for me because I am the eldest, I assume. It would be unwise to send and unseasoned girl to see him. You can trust me" she said as she adjusted her bodice.

"Yes we all know what happens when I trust you" Maleea said as she rubbed rose serum on her face. "Fine. You may go. But be quick about it, and don't give him any looks" she added.

Illy half sprinted out of the quarters, knowing she was well late for her meeting. She stopped in front of Polkos' door and adjusted her bodice while she tried to catch her breath.

The door open and she curtsied and looked down politely.

"Prince Polkos, Luka advised me that you sent for me. I will be happy to take your message for Maleea" she said politely.

"You know you can look me in the eye." Polk chuckled, motioning for her to follow him.
"There's a balcony out here that we can talk on. I much prefer to have a conversation out there with chairs rather than the two of us sitting awkwardly on the floor while I ask probing questions about your princess." He opened a set of wooden double doors that opened up to a stone balcony rounded off by a semi-circle barrier of about three feet, allowing for some protection from falling while giving the viewers the opportunity to view the illuminated capital city. An awning extended over the balcony, which protected the two chairs and one endtable between them from getting too exposed to the elements. Lanterns were posted on either side of the doorway to shed some warm lighting, which Polk used to find one of the two chairs that faced out towards the city.
"Come, sit. I'm sure you could use the rest. I saw you flitting about the expanse of the hall fetching this and that for Maleea today, so I assume you won't mind sitting for a bit. I know I want to." He sighed lightly, looking towards the Ringed City.
"You'll have to go into the city for some recreation when you have the time. The rings are a bit confusing to navigate, but once you get the hang of it, you'll know where to find your own piece of solitude." He reached under the endtable and retrieved two glasses he had placed there upon his arrival along with a bottle of cherry flavored whiskey. He poured a minimal amount in both glasses.
"Don't know if you drink, but this is rather good. I went to a distillery in Koukeli that was high in the mountains run by a bear of a man named Mansalvo. Turns out that Mansalvo's reputation for crafting some of the best liquor in the continent wasn't just hearsay. I don't care what either of our governments have to say about our neighbors to the north. They're good people...a bit hot-blooded, but very, very good people." He looked over at her with an apologetic smile.
"And I have rambled on without even asking for your name, dear. My apologies." He motioned to himself.
"Please call me Polk, by the way. Polkos is what my parents and royalty call me. I have no need of the formalities, personally." He leaned back in the chair, taking a sip of the whiskey, closing his eyes for a moment before swallowing.
"By the Divinities, that is good." He chuckled.
"Right, your name....while you're at it, tell me a bit about yourself. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next...well, a long time. Might as well know who I'll be talking to, right?"

Illy was startled by prince Polkos' casual nature. He seemed more like one of the members of court, than a highly respected Prince about to forge a long lasting relationship that would solidify the position of his nation with Illy's own.She gracefully accepted the drink he poured her, sitting down only after he had as a show of respect. If Maleea knew of his kindness towards her, she would surely forbid any future meetings.

"Thank you, your highness, you are most kind" she said as she bowed her head slightly and took a sip. Her mouth was filled with a warm kind of fire, peppered with spices and an after taste of wild berries. It was delicious.

"This is quite exquisite. Like drinking wild fire..." she added as she took one more sip, her shoulders finally falling as she attempted to relax. The whole setting was very cozy, and she found herself thinking of the times back home when she sat by the fireplace of her home with her various pets scattered around her in a hazy, warm slumber.

"My name is Illyria, the eldest daughter of House Everhart in Dasvrochi" she said as she lowered her cup. All the oldest families in Dasvrochi had House names resembling parts of nature, and hers was no different. Named after the everhart plant, a rare and expensive commodity in Dasvrochi, known to its people as the "twilight plant". Illyria had poured over old ancestry books growing up, taking in every word of her female ancestors who recorded instances of magic and animal control. Her mother had told her to put it from her mind, but she had often wondered how far her abilities would come in the matter. As if reminded of something she had seen in the past, but not quite sure of where she'd seen it, Illyria's hand wandered towards the bright amethyst pendant at her neck. Inside it lay a single everhart leaf, frozen in time.

"I have been a handmaid to Princess Maleea for a few years. She is most pleased to be marrying you, Prince" she said with a smile. It all still felt too formal to her, pretending like she wanted to be in a place where everything but the handsome stranger's glance in the hall earlier made her feel miserable.

"I was raised in the Dasvrochian tradition of animal handling, specifically horses. I attended Equus Primus, the capital's school for equitation skills. Maleea attended also, that is where we met. Our families forged an alliance years before, my dad as a trader and supplier to the royal family. My mother taught some of the royalty's children, and aided my father in his business" she added, trying to sound as interesting as a Dasvrochian handmaid could.

"I will be happy to serve you and Maleea to the best of my ability. Please always do let me know if there is something I can improve on...I tend to...ramble, maybe. My father always said "Illy, you talk to much, be quiet for a minute and listen to the leaves!", which i thought was comical really, because I didn't talk that much" she said as she realized she had been rambling while she said she didn't ramble at all. She chuckled and raised her hand to cover her eyes.

"I suppose he was right!" she said as she took another sip of the liquor. Her cheeks felt warm, as if the fire had come all the way up from her belly and reached her face. It was a delightful beverage, one she would have to make sure to mention on her next letter home.

Polk snickered, taking a sip of the beverage once more before answering:
"My dear Illyria, I don't think you ramble at all. In fact, it's quite refreshing to hear someone talk about themselves without couching their experience in some kind of tactful plea for royal assistance. When one is engaged in royal matters, it seems like all people care about is what they can extract from your legacy." Another chuckle and another sip came and went, Polk sighing contently as he looked from the city to his drinking companion, noting her soft, amber colored hair and rich, dark irises. They complimented her smooth, pleasant face and athletic(from what he could tell?) build(he thought he saw a bit of muscle protruding from her upper and lower half, but then again, dresses could make certain areas look distorted from his experience). No matter the build, she was still a beautiful Dasvrochian, which was a huge compliment considering how blasted attractive they seemingly ALL were. Ending his ruminations on her appearance, he commented:
"Equus primus? Really? That's quite an honor from what I understand. I won't pretend to know everything about your land, but I do know that Equus primus carries much prestige. Maybe you could ride with me sometime? I could use a riding companion in the mornings. My mare is a stubborn one and needs to have her energy expended as soon as possible or else she'll torment the stables with her constant desire to leave." He crossed a leg over the other as his gaze returned to the city.
"I doubt Maleea would be keen on getting up early in the morning to get dirty...doesn't seem like the type." He swirled the remaining whiskey in his glass, his jaw jutting out for a brief second before he added:
"I never expected to marry someone like her, you know. Not to say that she isn't a good person, but I..." He half-smiled, glancing over at Illy as he continued:
"Well, I won't bore you with the details, but it's no secret that I abandoned the royal family for a period of years. Being settled wasn't something I ever wanted until a chain of events occurred that made me realize just how important it was to stay close to home." He cleared his throat before taking another sip of whisky.
"Forgive my forwardness. I didn't call you here to listen to my blabbering. Tell me a bit more about Maleea. What is she like?"

"I would be my pleasure to ride out with you, your Highness. I mean--Prince Polkos." she corrected herself. She was unable to call him anything less formal, fearing what others would thing.

"The stubborn black undoubtedly giving the stable boys trouble, that's Amos. My father's gift to me a few years ago. Something to remind me of home" she said as she looked out at the flickering lights of the city. She felt as if she had been there for years, and it had only been a day. There was something familiar about the city seen from that angle, but she couldn't quite place it.

She finished her drink and felt it warm her insides as it trickled down her throat. She turned to face Polkos again, wondering how him and Maleea, two completely different people fro what she could tell, would fare after they were married. But her job was to honour her country through service to the Princess, and so she readied herself to paint a cheery picture.

"Princess Maleea is a very kindhearted, honourable woman. I believe she will make you quite happy, and provide you with beautiful children. It's my understanding that this was a very desired union for the benefit of both our nations. I have no doubts you will find her everything you expect a wife to be" she said with a smile. She realised how automated her response had sounded, but Polkos seemed like a genuine person, and for some reason she felt the need to see him happy. She kicked herself mentally at the thought and carried on.

"If you don't mind me asking...what happened? Why did you leave? Of course we heard of it in Dasvrochi, but it was all kept very secret" she said, hoping she wasn't overstepping her boundaries.

He laughed very briefly at the mention of children, fully aware that one of the biggest reasons for this unification was the desire to see an heir of mixed blood. While the marriage between Polk and Maleea was symbolic of a DESIRE for unification, both the Avatar and Igni had stressed in their conversations with him that an heir(a male, of course) would cement the treaty of peace between the two powers and eventually lead to a consolidation of nations. Polk hadn't mentioned his objections about bringing together two nations that had such differing political systems and cultural backgrounds, but maybe his silence was good. Maybe he was being too cynical about the entire prospect, that maybe Igni's desire for "One Continent, One Kingdom" would be realized. If that were the case, then Polk would gladly carry out the marriage with Maleea. Sacrificing for the good of others was another familiar sentiment he had given into during his travels. Speaking OF his travels, Illyria had just asked about them.
"Of course you heard about them. Gossip travels fast when it's about royalty." He bitterly proclaimed, finishing his whiskey off and setting the glass down on the endtable separating the conversation partners.
"I ah...well..." He looked into her curious, soft gaze and his inner gut feeling was that he would be able to trust her with a few details. A few. No one knew the whole story and it was going to stay that way until he died or he found someone willing to accept the deeds he had shamelessly committed.
"I was young, you see. Young, reckless, impulsive. I made my parents lives a nightmare by carousing at the local inns, taking a few bribes from palace guards to let their dalliances with ladies of the night not affect their status as royal protectors and...well, my theory is that if you give a nineteen year old that much power and expect him to wield it with responsibility, you're a moron. So I exploited my leverage as much as I could at any given opportunity for a couple of years, my sins being swept underneath the rug until I..." He cleared his throat again.
"Well, I was found in a very compromising situation with a few of the palace guard. We decided it would be a great idea to go outside the city and carouse with women of less than high morality. We were ambushed by a group of mercenaries who saw an opportunity to collect a bounty on a stupid prince(we all have bounties on our heads, you know that, don't you? Royalty I mean). I led those men out there and they all died save two, who were gravely wounded in the process of fighting the mercs off. It was then I realized that I...I wasn't fit to be in the position of power I occupied. So, with a crudely written note scribbled that night, I took off." His hands had begun to shake.
"And from there I wandered. Everywhere." He looked down at the shaking appendages, folding his hands together to try and stop the tremors as he added:
"Not as romantic as the stories they told at court, I'm sure." A smile came to his lips.
"But let's not end our night on such a dour note. Allow me to extend you a formal invitation to come riding with me at seven o clock. Meet me by the stables and we'll traipse around the estate for a while. I'd like to see that training you got in action."

While he explained his past, Illy couldn't help but feel as if she were a stranger intruding on someone's very personal affairs. The tales they had heard of Prince Polkos in Dasvrochi were highly inaccurate, if even a little spectacular.

"Well, back home we were told you had gone off to fight dragons...Dragons, can you believe it? Others believed you had run away with a young maiden, while some confessed they had seen you get on a boat by yourself holding a newborn babe. All very full of novelty, as I'm sure you can imagine" she said with a chuckle. That was the problem with royals, they got bored too easily and let their minds wander.

Illyria politely thanked Polkos for the spirits and conversation, and hurried away from his quarters and into her own. She opened the door to a room full of sleeping women, but knew Maleea was awake from the flickering light coming from her chamber. She entered quietly as to not wake the others.

"Where have you been? Over an hour has passed" Maleea said as she threw an ornate book mark between the pages of a shiny new book. She set it on her bedside table and rested her hands on her lap, on top of the thick wool blanket that covered her to her stomach.

"With Prince Polkos, Princess. He enquired about your likes and dislikes, and would like me to come riding with him in the morning. He is very eager to please you in every way" she said carefully. She knew one misstep and Maleea would go off into a rage.

"Very well. I am not fond of riding, you know this. You also know royalty likes to gossip. I would expect that you have enough common sense to maintain your absolute distance. I will not have rumours flying back to court and my parents." she said with a dismissive flicker of her wrist.

Illy bowed and retreated to her bed.

--------------

At 6:30 am, Illy made her way down to the stables. Amos was restless from sleeping in an unfamiliar place, and began kicking at the stall door as soon as she walked in.

"Shhh, shush my boy. You'll wake the whole estate" she said as she pet his shiny black coat. She slipped an apple from her riding coat pocket which she pushed in his eager mouth.

She began to remove her tack from the box next to his stall, putting on his pad and saddle before adjusting his bridle. It had one single moonstone across the nose-band, set on worn black leather. A present from her father when he had arranged for a mercenary to acquire Amos for her.

She dusted him off and removed her long coat, revealing a pair of tight fitting riding trousers and a fur trimmed vest. She knew Dasvrochian girls were often criticized for choosing to ride in breeches, but she found the restricting dresses too inconvenient.