Thread: The Urchin and the Prince [Ava & Eyesoffire]

He watched his breath rise up into the dark sky, it was as if his soul was escaping. Nevertheless, Crispin looked on. His left hand rested on the hilt of a sword resting upon his hip. The blade was strong and sharp, its hilt, grip and pommel all elaborate. He knew how to use it, though not to the degree that he would like. He remained upon one of the many balconies of the great palace, leaning against the rail and facing down the hill. He watched the tiny lights flicker in the distance and occasionally heard a voice or two, some of the servants were still working hard. He wore no less than three layers of fur cloaks, something he found to be distasteful. His love of animals was a trait his father did not share, his mother, on the other hand was over-protective, smothering him until he was literally blue in the face. The last time had been his return from a royal hunting trip not three days ago. Once the queen had heard that he son had been hunting boar instead of stags that was it. She hugged him close and ran her fingers through his black hair as she spoke about Hardian the Long, whose reign was cut short when he had an accident during a boar hunt. His title a cruel mockery of the length of his reign. Do not waste breath on ancestors, mother. Crispin had said, pulling away from her. I am a man, I know the risks and father would wish me to keep my head in the present. The Queen mother smiled at him. Your father wishes many things of you. She walked away without a word. It was true, he was a man, not a day younger than 21 summers. Crispin snapped back to the present with a blink. From here the city looked peaceful, calm and quiet in the dead of winter's night. He knew it was anything but and the large shadow that loomed up from behind him was a constant reminder of that. Bor was clearly the biggest man in the city, he stood almost 7 feet, arms as thick as tree trunks. A thick red beard, cut short, grew on his lower square jaw and peaked out from below his full helmet. He was fully clad in armour from head to toe and Crispin knew that beneath it was no more than his own skin. If the man was experiencing discomfort then he never showed it. The queen wants me in bed? Crispin asked quietly, looking up at his personal bodyguard. Bor stared at him for a moment and let out a grunt of laughter. No. I only came to see how you were doing. His voice resonated within his helm and when he was tired and breathing hard he sounded like a bull in a steel pen, his breaths becoming audible and echoing off the metal. Crispin's relationship with Bor had changed over the years, he became more of Crispin's soldier than his mother's. He would confide in Bor and trust that the man would not say anything. It worked out well, there were many things he wished to talk about and Bor was the man to listen. While Bor provided Crispin with the necessary training in combat. That is a surprise. Crispin said, crossing his arms. The livery he wore was fine and meant to stand the cold, so that's what Crispin did, he stood in the cold. If there was one thing his father liked about Crispin, it was that he was tolerable of his surrounding circumstances and that he showed no outward sign of his displeasure or otherwise, not until the moment was right. He turned to Bor and pursed his lips before speaking. Perhaps a ride through the grounds and near the wall would do me some good. I am unsure of that my prince- I am not. Stay here then...I'll be fine on my own tonight. My prince I- You'll do nothing. Just pretend I'm in my room and make my parents think the same. Bor only nodded and walked off, the huge town-handed axe that hung on his back gleamed in the moonlight. Crispin watched him go before moving down to the stables.