LingeringDesire
Pulsar
- Joined
- Jan 21, 2013
- Location
- Ohio, USA
The male simply nodded his head, too nervous to speak. More skittish than she would have thought. Ne’ebo flitted around the room, speaking too many and avoiding the lord’s altogether. Fenice hated how she seemed to fade in the background for him, though she knew she was being ridiculous, paranoid even. His kisses, soft, sweet and so wanting had told her she was at the very front. However, to keep them both safer, a separation was going to be necessary. Biting her lip Fenice pushed away from the table and approached the one full of giggling maidens. It seemed each had a favorite and not a one mentioned the name of sir Hargik. If anything, his sheer size intimidated them. Fenice could only shake her head, only a true woman could spot value where it lay.
Taking her leave of them, she meandered through the castle with Mathilde. A moment to refresh herself was in order. Behind the closed door of her room, she confided in her maid. “He kissed me and I him,” she whispered, a jubilant smile spread across her lips. “It was wonderful… I never imagined it to be like that, my lips still tingle….”
Mathilde shook her head, already knowing of the kiss. The sweet girl looked so blissful the night before, the aged woman took only a moment to detect that the princess was falling head over heel for the magnificent knight. Listening to the princess whisper on and on about the male did not come as a surprise since most knights she’d met were brutes, married, way older, or too young. “Come now my dear, the competition will be starting and look at you, still not washed up!” The woman tisked at her before handing her a wet cloth with which to wash her face.
Trala skipped ahead leaving Fenice alone with the child’s parents and her maid. They made small talk, mostly about the child. The couple were candid and open, talking about their worries and they joys. Fenice found it refreshing to speak with her people. Admittedly, some were not so easy to speak to, but all the same they were her people and she attempted to put on a pleasant demeanor even if she was worried. Ne’ebo’s tall form stood out on the field as they made their way to the list. Trala had paused to wave before asking the king to help her up. With a smile, her father gladly did so.
Fenice watched her mother frown slightly and wondered what ran through her head. Taking her seat the horns blew and the competitions commenced. The archery went off and Sir Perry pulled through. Her father pulled the boy to the dais; he stammered and mumbled his way through a few lines of congratulations and job well done. Fenice left the poor male alone but took note of a particular female that showed interest in the male. Smiling she planned to make sure special invites were given for dinner.
Watchful blue eyes scoured the field taking in the power of Jarn and the fluid strength of Ne’ebo. Another young knight caught fire in the ring as well, but Fenice was too preoccupied with thoughts for her knight’s safety that she missed him altogether. Each swing of the opponent made her stomach retch and each sound hit caused her eyes to close. Her body shuffled in her seat, trying not to disrupt the child at her side. The sadistic smile on Jarn’s face when Ne’ebo invited him into the ring caused her heart to nearly stop beating. Casting a worried and semi-terrified glance at her father, he merely ignored her and continued silently cheering on her champion.
Each blow thundered in her heart, but she couldn’t stop from watching as Ne’ebo all but destroyed his opponent. She hear the words from his mouth after each earth shattering hit. Eyes wide when the last blow incapacitated the male. Her name on his lips as he stood and walked away. The crowd exploded into applause and cheers, the man had defeated the cruelest of them all. Fenice lifted her hands to her mouth, happy tears spilling from her eyes. She wanted to run to the male, leap into his arms and press her lips to his repeatedly. However, her Trala sprang forward, yelling his name and blowing him kisses. The action caused the attention to float from her long enough to dry her eyes. After his win, she could barely contain her excitement.
The maidens and knights were added to their group. “Splendid job Sir Perry and Sir Kay, you have pleased your princess thusly so.” She smiled at Ne’ebo as their lips pressed lightly to her hand. Saving one behind her back, she was surprised when Ne’ebo’s large fingers wrapped about it and lifted it much higher and gentler to his lips. Once released she felt her heart soaring, eyes locked on his she smiled brightly, he’d called her his. Laughing at the silliness of the bet, she handed the ducats to Trala’s mother. “Here, a token of my appreciation, for allowing your daughter to leave your side and accompany me.” They tried to refuse but she did not accept it back, knowing they needed those two ducats more than she did.
Winding their way to the castle for a celebration feast Fenice walked between the Arch bishop and Mathilde, the two were gone in conversation and she was lost in thought. Once arriving at the table she smiled at the arrangements, so many were at the royal table there were seats on both sides. Fenice chose to sit across from her father, diagonal to Ne’ebo and close enough to share coy glances while participating in all conversations. The food was produced, Mathilde serving the royal family and archbishop. Engaged in a conversation about the fabric of her dress Fenice offered the maidens to take her old clothing off her hands. These gowns were given to her by the tailors and dressmakers of the city. Some she would never wear again, “I have too many to possibly wear in one lifetime. Besides when I marry I expect I shall grow with child and the extra love I gain.” Her eyes landed on Ne’ebo and she blushed softly before returning her attentions to the exuberant females.
Taking her leave of them, she meandered through the castle with Mathilde. A moment to refresh herself was in order. Behind the closed door of her room, she confided in her maid. “He kissed me and I him,” she whispered, a jubilant smile spread across her lips. “It was wonderful… I never imagined it to be like that, my lips still tingle….”
Mathilde shook her head, already knowing of the kiss. The sweet girl looked so blissful the night before, the aged woman took only a moment to detect that the princess was falling head over heel for the magnificent knight. Listening to the princess whisper on and on about the male did not come as a surprise since most knights she’d met were brutes, married, way older, or too young. “Come now my dear, the competition will be starting and look at you, still not washed up!” The woman tisked at her before handing her a wet cloth with which to wash her face.
Trala skipped ahead leaving Fenice alone with the child’s parents and her maid. They made small talk, mostly about the child. The couple were candid and open, talking about their worries and they joys. Fenice found it refreshing to speak with her people. Admittedly, some were not so easy to speak to, but all the same they were her people and she attempted to put on a pleasant demeanor even if she was worried. Ne’ebo’s tall form stood out on the field as they made their way to the list. Trala had paused to wave before asking the king to help her up. With a smile, her father gladly did so.
Fenice watched her mother frown slightly and wondered what ran through her head. Taking her seat the horns blew and the competitions commenced. The archery went off and Sir Perry pulled through. Her father pulled the boy to the dais; he stammered and mumbled his way through a few lines of congratulations and job well done. Fenice left the poor male alone but took note of a particular female that showed interest in the male. Smiling she planned to make sure special invites were given for dinner.
Watchful blue eyes scoured the field taking in the power of Jarn and the fluid strength of Ne’ebo. Another young knight caught fire in the ring as well, but Fenice was too preoccupied with thoughts for her knight’s safety that she missed him altogether. Each swing of the opponent made her stomach retch and each sound hit caused her eyes to close. Her body shuffled in her seat, trying not to disrupt the child at her side. The sadistic smile on Jarn’s face when Ne’ebo invited him into the ring caused her heart to nearly stop beating. Casting a worried and semi-terrified glance at her father, he merely ignored her and continued silently cheering on her champion.
Each blow thundered in her heart, but she couldn’t stop from watching as Ne’ebo all but destroyed his opponent. She hear the words from his mouth after each earth shattering hit. Eyes wide when the last blow incapacitated the male. Her name on his lips as he stood and walked away. The crowd exploded into applause and cheers, the man had defeated the cruelest of them all. Fenice lifted her hands to her mouth, happy tears spilling from her eyes. She wanted to run to the male, leap into his arms and press her lips to his repeatedly. However, her Trala sprang forward, yelling his name and blowing him kisses. The action caused the attention to float from her long enough to dry her eyes. After his win, she could barely contain her excitement.
The maidens and knights were added to their group. “Splendid job Sir Perry and Sir Kay, you have pleased your princess thusly so.” She smiled at Ne’ebo as their lips pressed lightly to her hand. Saving one behind her back, she was surprised when Ne’ebo’s large fingers wrapped about it and lifted it much higher and gentler to his lips. Once released she felt her heart soaring, eyes locked on his she smiled brightly, he’d called her his. Laughing at the silliness of the bet, she handed the ducats to Trala’s mother. “Here, a token of my appreciation, for allowing your daughter to leave your side and accompany me.” They tried to refuse but she did not accept it back, knowing they needed those two ducats more than she did.
Winding their way to the castle for a celebration feast Fenice walked between the Arch bishop and Mathilde, the two were gone in conversation and she was lost in thought. Once arriving at the table she smiled at the arrangements, so many were at the royal table there were seats on both sides. Fenice chose to sit across from her father, diagonal to Ne’ebo and close enough to share coy glances while participating in all conversations. The food was produced, Mathilde serving the royal family and archbishop. Engaged in a conversation about the fabric of her dress Fenice offered the maidens to take her old clothing off her hands. These gowns were given to her by the tailors and dressmakers of the city. Some she would never wear again, “I have too many to possibly wear in one lifetime. Besides when I marry I expect I shall grow with child and the extra love I gain.” Her eyes landed on Ne’ebo and she blushed softly before returning her attentions to the exuberant females.