A Royal Assassination (Closed)
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							<h1 class="p-title-value">A Royal Assassination (Closed)
	
	

	

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			<a href="/threads/a-royal-assassination-closed.98856/" class="u-concealed"><time class="u-dt" dir="auto" datetime="2015-04-13T00:05:32-0400" data-time="1428897932" data-date-string="Apr 13, 2015" data-time-string="12:05 AM" title="Apr 13, 2015 at 12:05 AM">Apr 13, 2015</time></a>
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">the traitorous queen</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Sun broke across the rocky spine of the mountains to announce the arrival of late morning. It was a crisp and clear spring morning, with blusters of cool air tumbling across the open spaces, swirling through the room through the doors of the palace’s boardroom that were left propped open with only a thin, white sheet of silk acting as a curtain. It fluttered about uselessly in the cool breeze, though made for quite the beautiful effect. A fire was in the fireplace, preserving some of her warmth, though she could still feel the brisk air filtering in through her woven, deep green tunic. She had been stripped of her armour and was left only in her forest green breeches and tunic. Hugging her cape tighter around her, she waited, gazing out the window with a certain discontentment twisted in her expression. She had been born and raised in this kingdom, and while the sites were breath taking, they had lost their charm over the years. The palace was carved into the mountainside, so bridges could span from pavilion to pavilion, a dizzying several hundred feet off the ground. The pavilions and bridges were lined with cautionary railings, but Ora had heard of a few mishaps over the years.<br>
<br>
<br>
Still, the city was built over the Cliffside of a mountain because it allowed for the most glorious waterfall to crash through the heart of town. The thick gush of water spilled through a space left open for it in the central pavilion. The surrounding walk space was decorated with beautiful handcrafted marble tiles. She could see them from where she was. They glistened happily in a combination of spare water droplets from the waterfall and the sun. People mingled around the central pavilion—as it was a place of gathering, a place to be social and happy, a place to share news, both good and bad, and it was always busy, regardless of the time of day.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sighing, the young woman soothed out the wavy locks of fierce red hair, trying to calm the knots and frizzy ends in preparation for her meeting with the crowned Prince of Elyziirn, She had dressed in the best clothes she had too, sans her weaponry, though she had a large bag tucked neatly to her left side. In order to serve her orders, she must not only serve the crowned Prince, but also live in the palace—live, breathe, work—twenty four hours a day. The thought was unnerving, but Ora really couldn’t afford a lifetime of wealth in exchange for a year of her time. She didn’t have much—some of her weaponry, a few pairs of clothes, and some personal items.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Miss Orarill Jarali?” an older gentleman with short, pointed ears, a wobbly smile, and narrow eyes the colour of burnished iron. Ora turned back to him, forcing a smile on to her face, though it didn’t feel quite authentic and she nodded and plucked up her bags from the floor. The butler, whose named she later learned to be Amroth, led her about the castle and detailed the different rooms and their uses. The tour trailed on for the better part of an hour, before he finally led her to what would become her quarters. The small room was pressed in the far Western wing of the palace, used exclusively for servants of the monarchy. It was pleasantly decorated with a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a desk. Nothing exceptionally beautiful or ornate, but functional, and nicer than she had back home. Dropping her bag on the bed, Amroth gave her no time to rest before he whisked her away once more, leading her through the heart of the palace towards the throne room.<br>
<br>
<br>
“You have come to use under very unusual circumstances, Orarill,” he said as they walked at a brisk pace, “The royal family does not usually take on new servants; however, an adviser and close personal friend of the king suggested you for a position with a great deal of praise. “You should feel quite lucky. Anyways, you are to meet the Prince. Don’t forget to mind your Ps and Qs,” he tutted like an overbearing father might have to a disobedient child.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ora could already feel the man beginning to rub her fur the wrong way and as much as she wanted to snap at him, she swallowed her tongue, sighed, and let him drag her to her first formal encounter with the crowned Prince with whom she’d have to serve for a year before ultimately murdering in cold blood.<br>
<br>
<br>
Joy.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">A young man with pointed ears sat quietly beneath a large tree. Its branches stretched far beyond the limits of the palace garden and its trunk spoke of centuries past. Like many others, this tree had lived here for longer than the civilization itself. The thick roots rose above the surface, creating intricate patterns where many small creatures took shelter and where people could sit and feel at one with nature. It was within these roots that the crowned Prince of Elyziirn could be found every morning in meditation. The Prince was not always fond of the habit, but it was one that was both encouraged and expected of him. Over the years, Ryvën found he was gradually getting better at the practice. Although he seemed quite vulnerable in this state, it was actually quite the opposite. The man’s acute senses were heightened when attuned to the natural surroundings. He could sense the rodent crawling up the roots about five feet away and the insects rustling the large leaves far above his head. Ryvën’s ears twitched as he sensed an older man’s presence entering the garden. He sighed. Just when it was getting to be really relaxing.<br>
<br>
<br>
“My Prince, I’m quite glad to see you taking your meditation seriously; however, I thought you were supposed to be-“<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yes, yes. I know you’ve come to fetch me for something, no need to waste air with your flattery, Amroth. I’m all yours,” Ryvën said, cutting the butler off with a wave of his hand. That was one thing he sometimes disliked about being royalty- one was barely allowed any time alone, for they always had duties and people to attend to. Ryvën followed the butler into the throne room, not once glancing at the decorations that had most visitors gaping in awe.<br>
<br>
<br>
Long ago, the master craftsmen of Elyziirn had carved this palace into the Cliffside, and yet the vaulting and geometric cuts boasted illusions of unparalleled elegance enhanced by the natural mica and colorful bands within the stone. The whole throne room sparkled; however, Ryvën’s attention was glued to the sole underwhelmingly plain and unfamiliar person standing in the room.<br>
<br>
<br>
“My deepest apologies, dear lady. I’m pleased to meet your acquaintance and listen to your petition. Please do not hesitate to ask, and I will see if there is a way for me to help you,” Ryvën said, first taking Ora’s hand in a graceful and friendly manner before letting go and awaiting her reply. But before the young woman could say a word, Amroth cleared his throat.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Um, Sir…she’s not a petitioner. This is your new servant, Miss Orarill Jarali,” he said. Ryvën raised his eyebrows and nodded his head slowly. Well, that was awkward.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Oh, right…well ah, I suppose if there’s anything you need - food, water, or something – feel free to help yourself. Goodness knows we have the amenities here at the palace,” Ryvën said with a smile, attempting to ease the tension. He then took Amroth aside a few paces to speak privately with him. Ryvën’s eyes shifted over to Ora, with an expression somewhere between disdain and uncertainty. “Not to be rude, but I don’t believe I asked for a servant. You know, I am quite capable of taking care of-“<br>
<br>
<br>
“Prince Ryvën, you know how your grandfather feels about this. There are these things we uphold called traditions- you might do well to abide by some every now and then. Besides, it’s not like they aren’t well care for. Most servants find a better life here than they would in their own walks of life.”<br>
<br>
<br>
Ryvën tried not to roll his eyes at the butler. He had always been a little on the haughty side. The prince straightened his posture and approached Ora. At least she was somewhat pleasant to look at- her hair was a nice shade, and her face provided a fresh change to those he was used to. “Right, well, pleased to meet you then. Orarill, it is? Well, if you would be so kind as to accompany me. I must meet with our head of protection for the daily report. After that, I must meet with the king.” Ryvën didn’t waste much time with formalities, at least not with his servants. He figured there would be time for small talk later.<br>
<br>
<br>
With a strange whistle-like sound, the prince called forth a creature with leathery wings and the paws of a great cat. It had a thin head and sharp, narrow eyes that seemed judgmental, and talons were attached to the end of its wings. The creature stamped and thrust its shoulders back proudly as it halted before the prince. The butler sounded a similar whistle, and the prince made way for a beast of a different kind. Ryvën quickly mounted the animal he had summoned and looked back at Ora.<br>
<br>
<br>
“This is my trusted companion,” he explained to her. “For now, you will ride whoever is available, but perhaps in time you will grow closer to one of the exotic creatures that aid our efforts. If you’ve never had experience with them, fear not. You will learn in time. Now come, there is much to do today,” he said before turning his back to her and encouraging his steed to take off toward the edge of the dense forest.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">The young woman, with hair brightly painted red, crossed across the marble floors with a long, but poised stride. While there was nothing anyone could point out as being overly elegant about her, she was assembled was a certain amount of charm. Elves tended to be tall and lean, she was quite short for her breed, but held an unusually powerful presence as she crossed across the boardroom and followed the servant out the door, followed by the billowing of her cape behind her. They moved to the throne room, where Ora met the entering crowned prince with a proper and polite bow at the waist, though she never averted her eyes from his face, even at the lowest point in her courtesy. Even with the beauty of the throne room swirling around her—precious stones, marble, and pieces of priceless art—she seemed delightfully unconcerned with all of it. The prince was younger than she had imagined, as she had never once seen him before now. She found it a true shame that she would have to murder such an attractive face. The elven people tended to be quite beautiful by principle, and he was certainly no exception to the rule.<br>
<br>
<br>
He took her hand politely in his own and she broke the gaze, offering a pleasant-enough smile. As he moved away, offering his assistance towards her petition, she opened her mouth to correct his mistake, but the butler, who formally introduced her, intercepted her comment. The prince stumbled awkwardly over his words for a moment, causing the corner of her lips to pinch into an amused smile, though he made it quite clear he had no interest in her presence. That would certainly make her job harder, but again, as she was about to protest, it was the butler who again stepped in for her. She listened to their conversation intently, studying the personalities of both the butler and the prince to the best of her abilities. One never knew what bits of knowledge could become important down the road, so Ora made it a priority to learn as much as she could from every conversation she was allowed to overhear. The two pulled themselves into a corner of the room, and to seem disinterested, Ora glanced away, gliding her gaze over the intricate imagery carved into the off-grey marble pillars.<br>
<br>
<br>
The prince returned to her side and she graciously met him with a dip of her head, a river of bright orange hair popping down the side of her face as she did so. “Yes, Orarill, or Ora, if you prefer, my liege,” she addressed him a formal voice that was heavily cloaked in the accent of the far western villages. “Right, of course,” she hummed as she followed him out on to the deck, watching as both him and the butler called for animals. The creature that landed down in front of her, and rather inelegantly she might add, was a bright red equine of sorts with wide eyes and luminescent plumage in place of fur. Its long tail swept across the floor as its golden coloured nostrils flared, making soft cooing noises as it looked Ora up and down several times with immense curiosity in its beady, dark eyes. While the equine’s feathers were quite attractive in appearance, the animal itself was a bit unusual looking, standing on long, gangly legs with wings that somehow seemed a bit too big for its body. She had never seen such a creature before, and while she had spent her life on the backs of horses, she couldn’t help but feel a little hesitant about…. <i>Whatever </i>this thing was.<br>
<br>
<br>
Trying to get the nasty face she made under control, Ora swung herself into the saddle and nestled her fingers into the horse’s feathery mane, enjoying the softness of it before spurring the animal on in pursuit of the prince.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">The prince took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Ora was still alive and figuring her way about the animal somewhere behind him. Ryvën found the easiest way to get used to the creatures was simply by doing it and learning from trial and error. Yet in his experience, the elven people were quick to learn new skills, so he figured that Orarill would catch on in time. He made a mental note to call her Ora, as she had mentioned. The prince was slightly curious about his new servant and why she had come at such a time, however, his curiosity wasn’t a dire need that had to be addressed right now. It had been several months since the prince had a personal attendant, and he had begun to forget what it was like having someone by his side everywhere that he went. Ryvën was honestly okay with that- he would prefer to be on his own. It made him feel more trusted, more free to do as he pleased- choose his own wardrobe, carry his own things, clean up after himself, all those little details that other people never even thought about.<br>
<br>
<br>
It was also strange sometimes to have servants of different ages. Ryvën always felt a bit oddly when those older than himself treated him as their superior, though he should have been used to it, as most of the palace servants were middle-aged adults. Yet this might be the first time Ryvën has ever had a servant so close to his own age. Ora, he believed, could not have been but a few years younger than himself. He was tempted to ask, that and to ask where she came from. He had noticed her accent earlier and assumed she was from the western villages. The prince himself had not traveled there often, as they were quite a ways from the palace.<br>
<br>
<br>
He had heard many different opinions about the western villages- some said they were very reserved people, while others said they were welcoming and friendly. They weren’t known for their wealth, however, it was said that valuable resources to the kingdom could be found in that area. The prince knew of the different lands, but <i>knowing of</i> and <i>truly knowing</i> were two different things entirely.<br>
<br>
<br>
“We’ll be landing in that clearing up ahead,” Ryvën shouted back to Ora after they had flown for about half an hour and the palace was but a distant shape. With that, he steered his equine toward the ground again and reduced speed. Soon, they sank below a dense layer of foliage. It was green everywhere, from deep shades to softer tones as the leaves covered the ground and created a thick forest. Ryvën had always found the forest to be very peaceful, though he also knew it was dangerous for someone who didn’t know his or her way around.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Not so bad, right?” the prince asked with a slight smile after Ora had also landed. “You’ll get the hang of it soon enough. The only way to learn to ride is by doing it, really.” The prince motioned for the servant to follow him into the forest, along a trodden path that was clearly cut through the trees. “The head of protection oversees all of the other warrior forces that guard the borders and maintain peace,” Ryvën explained. “There are many different divisions that work together in order to keep this kingdom secure, and they are often the first to know of any unrest- natural, political, or otherwise. Every day, I will come to collect the daily report from the leader in charge, so expect to be here often. After a few words with the head of protection, I then return to the palace to give the reports to the king. If we’re lucky, the reports will be short, without any urgent matters.”<br>
<br>
<br>
The prince ducked beneath vines and brushed past enormous flowers that unfurled their purple and white blossoms like carpets. He noticed the fallen feathers of a bird and tracks in the dirt made undoubtedly the night before by rodents. The world they lived in was full of other creatures, and the elves did their best to live in harmony with them. Before long, they reached another, less obvious, clearing. Although it didn’t look like much to the untrained eye, Ryvën knew that the leaves hid buildings- storage and housing for warriors. “Just stand out in the open. They will see us,” Ryvën instructed.<br>
<br>
<br>
Soon, a sharp whistle pierced the air, and another elf revealed himself, coming out from a small tree hut that outcropped from a thick branch. “Good morning, my prince.” The larger man bowed humbly before rising to meet the royal’s eye. His gaze darted to Ora, and a small smile formed on his lips. “Why, you’ve never brought a young lady here, before.” He dared not speak out of turn or too casually to the prince, but Ryvën knew what that smile meant. As a royal soon to ascend to the throne, it was likely he would marry. Though it was not uncommon for a king to rule without a bride, many kings did take a wife for political reasons, and hopefully the union would be a happy one. Ryvën, on the other hand, had not given much thought to the matter. It caused some murmuring among the people, but he felt the matter was rather trivial in comparison to things such as general security and welfare. The prince cast a glance over at Ora before addressing the older warrior again.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Ah, yes…this is my new servant. It seems she will be accompanying me from now on,” Ryvën replied, a hint of displeasure still making its way out of his mouth. “Anyways, how are your men? And the reports…anything unusual?”<br>
<br>
<br>
“Nothing, my liege. We are in wonderful shape, and all is well with the kingdom. The leader of the eastern forces has promoted two of his best, and the northern leader is pleased to report an increase in water cleanliness.” The head of protection produced two scrolls tied together with twine from his side and handed them to the prince.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Very good. Thank you for your guidance and leadership. We will meet again tomorrow, as usual.” The prince held the scrolls for a few moments before handing them to Ora. “I suppose you could carry these until we get to the palace,” he said, still a bit unsure what he was should have her do. Ryvën gave the other man a respectful salute and wave goodbye before turning to find their mounts once again.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">Ora quickly adjusted to the sensation of flying, and seemed to actually be enjoying it after a while. Horses were no strangers to her, as her family had owned a number of them growing up. This creature however, which was decidedly horse-like, was unlike anything she had ever seen. Never before had she been graced with the ability to fly, and the sensation was one she found to be quite enjoyable. Her bright red hair whipped across her face as she smiled, her facing lighting up in a way that only a smile could do. Below her, endless stretches of trees and villages. While the horse-like creature was not so suave on the ground, the flight was incredibly graceful. The creature rose and fell against the airs streams in long, gentle waves as the broke through clouds. The moisture from the air collected in droplets in her hair and clothes, giving her a soft shimmer in the hot sun.<br>
<br>
<br>
Time aboard the animal was so enjoyable, she hadn’t even realize how much ground they had covered until they began to descend. Digging her fingers into the animal’s nape, she prepared for the impact of landing. The creature stretched its wings and reared its weight back as it slammed against the ground, jogging and leaping a few times to slow its momentum before coming to an ambling halt. Its wings folded neatly into its sides and its giant head whirred around to glance back at Ora with a pleasant knicker, as if to say '<i>what on Earth are you still doing on my back?'</i><br>
<br>
<br>
With her feet back on the ground, Ora listened as the crowned prince discussed what they were doing. He led her through the gardens and towards the palace. She never offered even a peep in response, though her face wore an attentive expression. In fact, she was listening quite keenly to every word that passed through his lips and committing it to memory. The whistle piercing the air caused her attention to stir a little, glancing up from the prince towards the larger man approaching them. There was a friendly glint in his eye, though still, Ora remained quiet and in her place behind the prince. Her hands laced neatly behind her back as she watched. The conversation turned to her for a moment, and the young woman offered a small smile, bowing her head out of respect for the man who had joined their company.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Good day,” she said in good manners, but let the two continue their conversation without further interruption. Meanwhile, she took to glancing around the clearing, inspecting everything there was to be inspected. She kept a careful ear on the two men all the while, but seemed to be simply enjoying what was around her and, in fact, she was. Her life had been spent cooped up in small working villages where such splendor and nature was in limit. It was soul crushing for an elf to be so outside the comforts of mother earth, yet it was a life that had been demanded of her impoverished family. The splendor that was all around her was entrancing and, while she never failed to pay heed to her duties as assassin, she also took a few moments to be merry.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ora only really snapped back into reality when she heard the tone of displeasure tugging at the Prince’s voice. While she wasn’t concern whether or not he liked her, she needed to remain as his servant to see her job through. It was concerning to hear him speak with such distaste of course, for her knee-jerk reaction was that he would simply get rid of her after a while. Still, there was nothing she could really do about it now except keep calm and cross that bridge if and when it arrived.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ora took the scrolls as the Prince awkwardly handed them off to her, as if feeling guilty he hadn’t really given her much duty yet.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Thanks,” she said, tucking them under her arm and following them back to where their companions had been stopped. “So, what is next on the list?” she continued once they were out of earshot of the man with whom they had just met.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">The prince raised an eyebrow as Ora thanked him for handing her the scrolls. Thank you? Like she was glad to be serving a prince? He shook his head, finding the notion rather odd yet he didn’t comment on the matter. Ryvën placed his hand on the horse-like creature’s muzzle and turned to answer Ora’s question. “Back to the palace,” Ryvën said. “I must meet with the king. It looks like I have a long day ahead of me, mostly meetings in the morning, seeing petitioners and the public for a few hours in the afternoon, and a recreational hunt in the evening. The meetings, I will attend alone, however, I’d be grateful for the company later.” The prince stopped after the last sentence. He hadn’t really thought about it before he said those words, but perhaps it wasn’t a complete lie. Ryvën was constantly surrounded by people, but sometimes he still felt so alone. There was a barrier between him and everyone else, one that could never be crossed. He could never be an average citizen or know what that really felt like, and yet he also recognized the distance between himself and his grandfather, the ruling king.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Right, well let’s be on our way. If there’s one person who shouldn’t be kept waiting, it’s the king, right?” he chuckled slightly before mounting. He looked over at Ora and her companion. “I must say, she seems to like you. You seem like quite the natural rider- have you much experience with animals?” he asked. Ryvën then nudged his winged equine toward the sky. The ascent was rather steep at first, as they had to make sure they were above the trees and the clearing was not overly large. Before long, the pair had broken through a cloud, and Ryvën reached out his hand to touch the condensation. He wished they could stay up here forever. The prince looked back to make sure that Orarill was still with them before picking up some speed. Ryvën was honestly dreading the earlier portion of his day- meetings were always such a bore. He couldn’t even remember who all he had to meet with. At least he had people who knew his schedule better than he knew it himself. Ora would likely be one of those people soon, unless he decided to dispose of her. Technically speaking, Ryvën had the power to do so whenever he wanted. Yet there was no real reason to dismiss her, as she hadn’t done anything wrong. If he did such a thing now, that would just be rude. Ryvën also recalled what Amroth had said about servants having better lives in the palace than at home, despite the lowly position. The prince wondered if this was true for Ora, but he felt it would be impolite to ask such things and prod into her personal life when they had only met that morning.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ryvën was well used to the rhythm that came with flying. Though he wasn’t as skilled as some warriors who could travel in extreme weather or engage in combat while flying, it was a comfortable and effortless activity for him. Ryvën always preferred activity over reclining or strategizing. Although he understood the need for planning and discussion, Ryvën was quite bored by anything that required sitting in one place for more than a few hours. His grandfather, on the other hand, was a well-rounded king. He could partake in hunting, training, or combat if necessary but was also an intelligent and diplomatic ruler. Ryvën looked up to his grandfather and almost wished that he didn’t have to inherit the crown- that his grandfather could stay the king forever. The people seemed to like him, or at least better than they liked the prince, Ryvën believed. He had much to learn, and not much time left.<br>
<br>
<br>
“From here, attendants will see to our companions, and we will go inside. Don’t forget to bring the scrolls,” the prince instructed as they landed outside of the palace once again. After settling for a moment, the prince dismounted and patted the creature’s neck as another elf came to lead it away. “You can go and visit the stables later if you like. We’ll see them again soon, but we shall ride horses for the hunt tonight. So no flying, I’m afraid.” Hunting was one of the prince’s favorite pastimes. It was a thrilling sport, and the animals did not go to waste. Out of respect for nature, all of the creatures killed during a royal hunt were used for food, clothing, and other necessities for either the royals or given to the common people.<br>
<br>
<br>
The prince walked inside passing through corridors and a long hall before reaching the throne room. Ryvën waited for Ora before approaching the large, ornate doors. They were a golden color that sparkled in the sunlight with scrolling and colorful stones set into the outer edges. Although they looked like solid gold, the doors were actually made of wood. Either way, they were quite heavy. The prince passed the guards with a nod of his head and pushed the doors open using both hands. Ryvën walked ahead of Ora down the long, richly colored carpet. When he reached the end of the throne room, the prince bowed deeply before the king until the older man told them to rise. After doing so, Ryvën looked at his grandfather and gestured toward the ginger-haired woman. “Grandfather, I’m not sure if you’ve met Miss Orarill Jarali. She is my new servant- I believe one of your advisers is responsible for bringing her to us.” With that, the prince turned to give Ora some instructions. “Thank you, I will take the reports and talk with the king on my own from here. Feel free to use this time to get some rest, help some of the other workers, or just get your bearings. If you haven’t eaten yet, our staff makes wonderful dishes, so would I encourage you to visit the kitchen. Please report to the great meeting hall in exactly three hours from now. I shall need your assistance again shortly after.”</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">“Mmmkay,” Ora’s rather informal answer rejoined. She hadn’t even thought about how blithe her words sounded until they had long since passed between her lips. It was hard to remember at times that she was serving a Prince now, and he wasn’t just happened to run into. He was royalty and she was his servant. Mentally, she cursed herself for the rather crude ‘mmkay’ she had just purred. <i>Yes, your majesty </i>would have been much more prim, proper, and accepted. Ora just hoped he’d let her little slip up slide, for she really couldn’t return back to her employer, tail between her legs, having failed at her first day on the job. Biting down on her tongue, Ora let a small smile curve into her cheek bones, glancing away from the Prince for the time being as she came up to the equine-bird-like creature (whom she had decided to call Almar), and tangled her fingers into its feathery nape.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Yes,” she agreed to his comment of not wanting to delay the King. Swinging up into Almar’s saddle and settling her weight into the stirrups, the large animal opened its wings and stretched out its forelegs with a sleepy yawn. One moment, Almar was yawning, and the next, she was catapulting into the sky below a muscled thrust of the giant creature beneath her. “I rode horses a lot as a child,” she explained when the Prince commented on her riding skills. The compliment made her crack a grin as she reached down to the creature’s shoulder and giving it an adoring scratch, to which it responded with a low, contented purr. “I’ve never ridden anything that flies before, let alone anything like this animal… I’m not even sure what she is,” Ora admitted. She knew there was a whole big slue of mystical creatures out in the world that she was completely ignorant to, but she hadn’t been expecting the honour of ever being able to ride one. She stood in her stirrups and gathered Almar’s reins in her free hand, before guiding the animal in a serious of lazy zig-zags, testing what the flying beast was completely capable of.<br>
<br>
<br>
Almar was considerably more manoeuvrable than any other horse she had ever ridden on the ground. At the slightest tug of the rein, she’d dip her wings and go zooming in the requested direction. Ora had been having so much fun testing the animal’s limits—from making corners to barrel rolling; she had nearly forgot she was accompanying the Prince at all. Once the thought overcame her, she was struck with a silly grin. “Of course, my grace,” she replied, still clutching the scrolls to her chest with one hand. With that, they began to make their descent and Almar slammed into the ground with enough force to rattle Ora for a second.<br>
<br>
<br>
Sliding from the saddle, Ora nodded, listening to the Prince give her instructions. While she found herself admiring Almar, and the prince’s mount, she was excited for the opportunity to meet the horses, as well. There was just something so comforting about the wingless-, four-hooved animals to her. Perhaps it was the smell of leather or the sounds of the soft nickers they made as they brought their head over the small doors. “We, my grace?” she inquired curiously when he mentioned the <i>we</i> for the hunt. She hadn’t been expecting that lowly servants would be allowed to pertake on hunts, but if she was, she eagerly awaited it. Her father had taken her on hunts often during her childhood and she was skilled enough to not embarrass herself.<br>
<br>
<br>
Following him back into the palace, marching straight up to the throne room. Again, Ora found herself surprised when she was met face to face with the crowned king. The Prince was one thing, but staring down the King was a whole other, luckily, she didn’t have to say or do anything besides handing the scrolls off to Ryvën and marching off to go fill her time for the next three hours.<br>
<br>
<br>
As suggested, she stopped by the kitchen for a light meal before taking the time to locate her quarters. It was a beautiful display of architecture and design and, while not overly lavish, the room was prettier than anything she had ever laid her head down in before.<br>
<br>
<br>
She spent the remainder of her time exploring every crevice of the room and lying down for a few minutes, though at the strike of three hours passing, Ora made herself present in the grand meeting hall, exactly as told.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">“The Frenaluae are quite interesting creatures. When left in the wild, they can become quite fearsome and intimidating with their large size, superior strength, and speed,” the prince explained as they landed and turned their mounts over to the stable hands. “Yet they are also gentle giants that can clearly be tamed and ridden. Many of our skilled warriors find them useful partners during times of war, as well.” The prince had gestured for Ora to follow toward the throne room as he nodded slightly at her inquiry.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Well, I can’t say you’ll be hunting <i>with</i> me, exactly. The hunting party normally has a few accompanists, so you’ll likely be retrieving arrows unless you’d rather me assign you to collecting the carcasses,” the prince replied, a slight smirk revealing itself as he looked at her. The hunting party normally consisted of himself and a few of the other nobles, and occasionally a guest or even the king would join them. Ryvën found that the activity helped keep some very important men in good relations with one another, as they could all relax a little and enjoy something together. Each man normally brought a servant to fetch their arrows, though the price was responsible for bringing a few. Although he didn’t really have anything against any of the servants, it was known amongst themselves that whoever got to retrieve the arrows instead of collecting the hunted creatures was on the prince’s good side, at least more so than the others. “Though perhaps if the party is in high spirits or wish for a bit of humor, they’ll agree to let you have a shot,” he added before entering the throne room.<br>
<br>
<br>
After he had received the scrolls from Ora and she had left, Ryvën made his way up to the older man. A servant quickly brought a chair for the prince, and he sat next to his grandfather, opening the first scroll. “How is she?” the king asked. “Pardon?” Ryvën raised an eyebrow. “Your new servant- is she serving you well so far?” the king clarified. The prince thought for a moment, his mouth twisting into a hesitant expression as he thought of everything they had done that morning and her reactions. “Yes, I think so. It’s a bit early to tell how we’ll get along,” he replied. “But on the whole, I have no reason to dislike her. Though…she said ‘Mmmkay’ to me earlier. Do…do common people say that to each other often?” he questioned. The king let out a hearty laugh, not answering the prince and instead looking at the scroll.<br>
<br>
<br>
Thankfully, it was as the head of protection had said- nothing of concern seemed to be happening. The kingdom was peaceful, they were all quite thrilled to believe. Ryvën bowed as he left his grandfather’s presence, and the king reminded his of the usual- pay attention to his political studies, care for the people, treat everyone with respect, don’t eat too much, but don’t eat too little either- all good things, of course, but it was just the same old melody in Ryvën’s ears. He sat down in the next meeting room, greeting the officials with the usual pleasantries. The room was more tense than the throne room had been, for many of these people were familiar with Ryvën and still saw him as little more than a child and treated him as such, in comparison to the respect they paid to the king.<br>
<br>
<br>
After a long three hours, Ryvën made his way to the grand meeting hall. His flat expression eased into one of benevolence as his eyes fell upon the line of people that awaited his arrival. When he looked over and saw Ora, a small smile graced his features. <i>Good, she hadn’t forgotten and wasn’t late</i>, he noted. The prince approached Orarill and greeted her with a simple nod, taking her off to the side before going up in front of everyone else.<br>
<br>
<br>
“You will observe today,” he instructed her. “Pay attention to the duties each of the servants performs here,” he said as he pointed to one man who held a booklet, two others who stood to his side, and a woman who stood by the front of the line, facing Ora and Ryvën. “This is perhaps one of my most important duties,” he explained. “Here in the great meeting hall, the common people are permitted to come and present their requests and petitions. Often times, we tend to the needs of farmers and workers. It is important to listen to the subjects and their desires, for this kingdom thrives on a mutual respect. The people trust that the ruler takes care of them, so that is what I intend to do.” Ryvën spoke with determination; the importance he found in what seemed like one of the prince’s more tedious tasks was clear to anyone.<br>
<br>
<br>
“The man with the book is writing down the names and requests of each person as they speak with me. The two men beside him are there as muscle- people often bring gifts when they come to visit, and they handle those gifts. On the rare occasion, they are also needed to escort a citizen out of the hall. And that woman facing us- she’s there to regulate the flow of the line and introduce each person as they make it to the front of the line. We will be here for about three hours today, so you should have plenty of time to observe and then be able to perform one of their roles tomorrow.” With those words, the prince walked forward toward the line that stretched past a pair of large pillars at the far end of the hall. As he approached, every person in the line bowed simultaneously, and the prince gave a small bow in return before taking his seat. “Miss Rhoda Nevaili,” the servant woman introduced the first in line. “Greetings, Miss Nevaili. And what can I do for you today?” the prince asked her.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">the traitorous queen</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Her legs slid down the animal’s side until her boots stomped to the stone floor below. Almar made a soft groan and stretched his long forelegs out in front of him, lurching back as to loosen up his shoulder muscles now that his rider had stepped down. Ora’s fingers tangled in the feather-like fur that collared his neck, giving the creature a small scratch of gratitude. Almar raised his mighty head and turned his neck to meet Ora’s fingers, blowing soft snorts against her fingertips before finally pressing his nose to her palm. It was a sweet moment they shared, animal and person, that was sort of ruined by words. She had gotten so wrapped up in her abrupt admiration for Almar that she had forgotten the Prince’s presence almost entirely. That was until he began to speak again and she nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise, though she moved away from Almar with some sadness to follow after the prince towards the throne room.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ora should have seen it coming, but the truth was she had no experience with palace life. Her blatant disregard for royalty and rules all of her life meant that she wasn’t exactly the most knowledgeable when it came to monarchical etiquette. It was for those reasons that her brain-mouth filter faltered and words came tumbling out before she had a moment to swallow them back where they belonged: in her gut. “Well, if you men were better shots, you wouldn’t need both an arrow collector <i>and </i>a carcass collector,” she raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lip twitching in annoyance at his comment. The very idea of a Good ole’ boys club going on a hunting trip and having a girl try and shoot for the sake of <i>amusement </i>was something that caused the bile in her stomach to flip. The very thought was appalling and if they did end up giving her the opportunity, she was determined to demonstrate that she wasn’t someone to be laughed at. Her entire life was made by competing against her older brothers. Years worth of fighting long and hard for the opportunity to prove herself had finally paid off, for now she was settled nicely in the palace with only the best paying assassin’s job out there while her brothers back home could only stand back and watch in dismay.<br>
<br>
<br>
He wouldn’t be finding her shot very <i>amusing </i>when she planted the arrow in his back, but that was a matter for another time.<br>
<br>
<br>
Having passed the scrolls off to the prince, Ora politely dismissed herself. She meandered up to her chambers where she was met with a clean change of clothes and the opportunity to wash and brush her hair. Now clean and tidy, the woman’s bright red hair fell in silky curls that was not unlike a comet’s tail down her back. Her face was cleaned of any dirt, giving her China-white skin a severe contrast the darkness of her hair. By the time everything was in place, it was nearly time to meet with the prince once more. Sliding on her boots, she quietly shut her chamber doors behind her and made her way carefully down to their meeting point. Everywhere she went, she made a careful note to inspect everything as she strolled along: every door, every window, and every point of entry or exit. People, too, were of special interest, and she took every opportunity she could find to learn someone’s name. Though it came off as a friendly gesture, Ora was using the information to build her strategy. Sure, the prince’s assassination may not have been planned for another year but plans had a way of falling through for those who were underprepared.<br>
<br>
<br>
As promised, the prince arrived seemly on time, to which Ora greeted him with a friendly enough smile. “I am very good at observing,” she replied, lacing her fingers together behind her back and glancing out over the organized clumps of people. She listened, though with little interest until he mentioned the book. Her green eyes, like two chunks of jade, honed in on the book the man was writing into. A book filled with nothing but the names of people and their desires from the monarchy? Nothing sounded more useful to her than that book for the information it contained was invaluable. Not to look too interested in it, she let her eyes move away and follow to the Muscles, as Ryvën referred to them.<br>
<br>
<br>
There was no way for her to get her hands on that book just yet, so there was no point in dwelling on it. Instead, she followed him towards his table and remained standing just off to the right. She was doing just as he had instructed of her—listening, watching—but for her own purposes, of course, but she wasn’t about to let on that anything else was going on in her mind besides doing the duty Ryvën had given her and doing it well.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><i><span style="font-size: 12px">(Sorry about the late reply, again x.x")</span></i><br>
<br>
<br>
The prince smiled and thanked another person for coming to visit the palace today. Although he tried his best to remember names and faces, there were at least a hundred people in the line from one end of the hall to the other. Hence, the task of record keeping was incredibly important. The man who wrote in the book had worked in the palace for quite a few years now, and Ryvën felt he must have the best handwriting he had ever seen. The prince stepped down from the chair for a few moments to get some water and gather his thoughts. There had been many concerns about the land and farming today, Ryvën realized. Although no one claimed any dire emergencies, it sounded like some of the farmers were having trouble with keeping the soil regulated and usable. Some were having trouble because the river was overflowing more than usual, and others were experiencing uncharacteristically rocky soil where only wild thorns could grow. Ryvën was no farmer, but promised to look into the issues. He knew that farming was a lifestyle rather than simply a leisure activity for many of the people. The prince checked the time; they only had an hour left before it was time to move onto the next thing. “We’ll be done before long,” he said quietly to Ora, hoping she wasn’t too bored with the task at hand. She seemed to be fine from what he could tell, though he did noticed her interest level had been much higher about the hunt.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ryvën thought back to Ora’s words from earlier when he mentioned the hunting party. <i>“Well, if you men were better shots, you wouldn’t need both an arrow collector and a carcass collector.”</i>He smirked slightly- he recalled thinking it was a funny statement that almost made him break his solemn gaze and laugh, because it had some truth to it. Yet he also remembered telling Ora to mind her manners because not everyone was as forgiving as he was. Ryvën bit his lip as he thought quietly to himself, wondering why he <i>was</i> being so patient. Had it been another noble, Ora might have been sent away already. Perhaps the young prince was still not used to the idea of a personal servant and was allowing for some mistakes as he was also adjusting to a new presence, or maybe he felt her ignorance for palace life excusable considering where she came from. The prince frowned to himself, though, realizing that he couldn’t just allow her to say everything that came to her mind, no matter how much it amused him and broke up some of the boring conversation. At this point, Ryvën knew he was under harsh scrutiny. Other leaders didn’t respect him very much and were constantly waiting to pick out his flaws and use them as grounds for defaming his rule. If they witnessed his servant speaking out of turn or behaving inappropriately, the prince figured they would start up rumors about how he couldn’t be trusted to manage a country when he couldn’t control a single young woman. Ryvën rubbed his forehead, as if he was trying to wipe the stress away from his thoughts.<br>
<br>
<br>
Ryvën took his seat once again and continued with his duties, as all the other workers continued theirs. When he looked over at Ora, he was glad to see her attentively observing the other workers. The prince didn’t know much about any of his servants’ personal lives, but he trusted that security wouldn’t hand them anyone that couldn’t be trusted. It wasn’t much, but it was all Ryvën really knew about the people who worked in the palace, save for a few of the long-time workers who felt more like family by now. Though in time, Ryvën hoped to understand Ora’s expressions and mannerisms at the very least, so that he might be able to tell how she felt about tasks she was given and events they had to attend. At the end of the hour, the flow of traffic stopped, and the line dwindled down until one last person thanked the prince and wished him a good evening. Ryvën smiled even after the man had left, and he turned to all of the servants still in the Great Hall. “Thank you all for your help today. You all did well, and I think we have accomplished a lot.” With that, all of the servants except for Ora bowed and dismissed themselves from the room. The prince signaled for Ora to follow him.<br>
<br>
<br>
“What did you think?” he asked her. “I know it doesn’t seem like much- it gets a bit repetitive,” he admitted, “but I think it’s one of the best traditions we have here in Elyziirn. I don’t want to be a ruler that thinks himself so far above everyone else that I won’t take time to hear their needs, you know?” The prince’s eyes shifted to the walls, away from the young woman. He cleared his throat and folded his arms. “Right. Well, I guess I will eat dinner and then prepare for the hunting party,” Ryvën informed Ora. “You may want to change clothes and eat as well; however, you will need to visit the stables before I get there. The other servants who will be joining us will be there as well, and they’ll explain anything you need to know. Some creatures that we hunt you have likely encountered before, and others you may not have laid eyes on.” Ryvën paused before he turned toward the dining hall. “And Ora? Although I do believe women have valuable insight and wisdom equal to a man’s, please refrain from commenting on the party’s hunting skills. Injuring a man’s pride –especially a noble’s- can open doors that are better left locked. You’d be surprised at how many wars have started over simple things.” The prince shrugged and frowned slightly. Men and women were both strange at times, but there wasn’t much to be done about it other than trying to appease each person to the best of one’s abilities. In fact, Ryvën’s grandfather had once told him that was the king’s true job- keep everyone happy. When he put it that way, Ryvën didn’t think he would mind being the ruler so much.</div>
				
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			<h5 class="userTitle message-userTitle" dir="auto" itemprop="jobTitle">the traitorous queen</h5>
			

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					<div class="bbWrapper">Ora perched like a trained soldier. Her hands were clasped behind her back and during the entire event; she never once rocked her weight or cocked a leg out of discomfort for standing for such a long period of time. In fact, she remained almost statue-like. Not a muscle twitched out of place, not a heartbeat occurring out of pattern. She had learned to hunt from her father, a man of infinite patience. She could recall him spending hours in the same position she was now, but balancing tediously on a branch of a tree with an arrow strung across the string of his bow, waiting from sun up to sun down for that one unsuspecting creature to pass through his field of vision. Growing up, Ora had always seen the task as being quite dull. On more than one occasion, she had caused an animal to be scared off before her father could shoot it due to her inability to stop fidgeting for just a few minutes. But as patient as he had been with the prey, he had been patient with her, and he would laugh it off when Ora would do something to send a deer scattering in the opposite direction. His patience had paid off, for in time, Ora began to emulate her father’s ability to stand quietly observing for hours at a time.<br>
<br>
<br>
Without breaking a glance in the direction of the prince even once, Ora remained watching and learning. She couldn’t possibly remember everyone’s name and position that had walked through the court, so she made split second decisions as to whether someone was important enough for her to remember. In honesty, most of the farmers that filtered in through the front door weren’t significant in her job at all, but it still helped watching <i>how </i>Ryvën interacted with them. He was sweet and compassionate, and Ora got the sense that the words he spoke were sincere ones—not the hollow promises many royals made to their people. Ora had heard those types of promises before—<i>we’ll help your family, we’ll help your father, we’ll save your land. </i>Huh. It was hard for Ora to grapple with the idea of someone in any position of power being even remotely honest, but she prided herself in being a good read of people, and she couldn’t pick out anything malicious in Ryvën, despite wanting to.<br>
<br>
<br>
With the event coming to an end, the fiery red haired woman let herself relax as she slid a sideways glance over to the prince. He tutted at her like he would have a puppy, and obediently, she turned on the heel of her boot to follow. “It was fine,” she replied when he mentioned the event being a bit repetitive. While she normally wouldn’t have said anything, the way he stated the comment in a question made it feel as though he was opening it up for conversation with her. It didn’t last long though, before he was on to the next thing, which was the hunt, which did pump a little bit more excitement into her veins. Though when he turned to give her a scolding, all she could do was a crack a little smile. Honestly, she had been expecting the reprimand sooner, and harsher, for that matter, but she nodded agreeably. Curse her red-headedness—it always got the best of her cool bravado. “I understand, sir,” though they’d certainly be in for a foul surprise if they made any attempt to make a joke of her by letting her shoot. Archery was not a comely activity for women, but when growing up in very poor conditions, propriety was set aside for the sake of survival.<br>
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Dismissed, Ora did as she was told. She gathered a small, quick meal, changed, and made her way out towards the stables. The riding clothes that had been provided for her were quite dashing: beautifully dyed and more comfortable than anything she had ever worn before. She had pinned her hair back in a braid and had really taken the time to actually clean herself up. Had she not such a smart mouth on her, she might have actually made a fairly decent housewife, though Ora was not one for being subservient to anyone, as she had already demonstrated in the face of the Prince. Still, the smell of the stable was one she welcomed contently. While it would be a pain in the ass to mind her tongue during this whole little escapade, she did look forward to it as collecting arrows on horseback was considerably better than standing in a room full of complaining farmers.</div>
				
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