Orion knew exactly where he was leading Bernard to.  And he presumed his valet knew it, too.  It was, after all, his most favorite feature of the gardens: the fountain.  There was always something about the sight and sound of trickling and splashing water into the pool below that mesmerized him.  The Prince attributed this to its soothing qualities.  He could probably fall asleep to its constant resonance.<br/><br/>With one black boot propped up on the fountain’s rim, Orion fished into his pants pocket for a few coins.  Ordinarily, he hardly carried any money around, least of all loose change.  But since the pre-determined destination was the fountain, a smattering of coins was brought along.<br/><br/>With his thumb doing the honors, he flipped the round currency into the air, watching as they one-by-one landed with an audible<i>plunk, </i>before floating to the bottom.  Coins were acceptable additions to the fountain, as others would at times superstitiously make a wish.  Rocks, not so much, or so he had been told one too many times by the groundskeepers.  Devoid of any more coins, the Prince stared into the fountain instead, enjoying its tranquil sights and sounds.