Galloping through the forest, Motto’s mind filled with memories of his father and mother.  The late King and Queen were very happy and tender..he missed them more than ever lately.  Until now, he enjoyed his rule alone and did well as a young King.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Your people look to you, Sire.  Gilthlore needs to see their King marry.  Their hearts are still wounded by the loss.  What is to become of the Kingdom without any heirs?”</span><br/><br/>His advisors had been pleading with him for five years, and Motto could no longer argue with them.  It was his duty as King.  Letting his advisors make the careful selection, Motto removed his own feelings from the arrangement and was happy.  Until now.  The raven-haired monarch urged his steed to go faster and wished his troubled heart would be left behind.<br/><br/>He would do his best to give Gilthlore a lovely Queen.  As for the strange ache in his chest, that would have to be ignored until it went away.  If Lady Genevieve resented the wedlock, so be it.  Her hair was lovely..he’d caught a glimpse from where he watched the Lady descend from her carriage.  Motto had never seen hair like that..<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF40">“DAH!”  </span><br/><br/>His moment of distraction cost the King dearly, his horse had leapt over a fallen tree and Motto failed to duck to lower limbs of a large tree.  The sudden collision was a painful one, and he came down onto the fallen tree with a crack.  The guilt-ridden steed peered at Motto from where it stopped and turned.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF40">“I’m fine, Fang.  Come on boy.”</span><br/><br/>The horse whinnied a refusal.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF40">“Now.  I’m not in the mood for your games.”</span><br/><br/>Another negative reply.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF40">“That’s it.  Now you’ve done it.”</span>Motto got to his feet and glared.<span style="color: #00FF40"> “GET.  OVER. HERE.”</span><br/><br/>This elicited a frightened noise and the King’s quirky steed cantered back towards to royal stables.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF40">“WHY YOU…!!” </span>Motto broke into a run and gave chase.  He was fit and moved through the vegetation with remarkable skill; dashing through thick bramble and through a particularly slick muddy brook.  Finally he staggered to a stop and stood panting just outside the castle gardens.<br/><br/>“Oi.  Gardener!  Better clear out of here with the likes of you, the King’s Bride is coming.  Shoo.  Tsk tsk a right mess you are.  Shameful.”  One of the maids looked Motto up and down with disgust.  He was covered in spatter and thoroughly disheveled.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF40">"The King's Bride, you say?"</span>