A Tale From Lanoria: The Princess of Barough

Chapter 8: The Wonders of Magic

In the morning, breakfast had been left at the door for Donovan. It was a measly bowl of partially cooked oats that were still crunchy. and a thimble barely full of orange juice. It was not the most they could give him, as even the staff had a full plate of food. Killian had personally left the meal at his door since Celsy was ready to lace it with poison. Afterwards, Donovan was called to the throne room and expected to perform his duties.

Like the rest of the castle, the throne room was breathtaking. A long pink carpet ran down the hall, while twisted gold pillars rose to the ceiling. The whole room was decorated with real gold and precious stones, all cleaned as she had requested. Her throne, as well, was brushed with gold. The large throne had a plush pink cushion. While the candles in her grand chandelier cast a bright light in the room for them. Celsy and Oriana were already there by the time Donovan joined them. 

"My lady, the meeting with your people will soon commence," Celsy informed her.

"Please, when they arrive, send them straight here," Oriana said as she motioned to where Donovan could join her. "I won't have them wait long if they wish to see me." As a precaution, any commoner that entered the castle had to leave their weapons behind or forfeit them at the gates.

Soon, Tyir would join them as well. The prince would sit on a chair beside the steps of the throne. 

Donovan would look down at him and say, "How are things down there?"

"You dare look down on me?" Tyir said.

"Hard not to with my height," Donovan replied.

"Gentleman, enough. Today is supposed to be a relaxing day." Oriana chided. While the two of them stopped, Tyir continued to glare at Donovan. The mage winked back just to tease him once again.

It wouldn't take long to find out why certain residents of her kingdom needed her guidance. There were two citizens of her kingdom that approached her throne, who happened to be farmers. While polite, as they bowed before the princess, they were clearly angry. For forty minutes straight, the two began to argue almost instantly in front of her over whose cattle belonged to whom. Donovan was growing rather irritated beside her, and Celsy looked bored out of her skull. Oriana was being patient with them and heard both sides calmly. 

"You split the sheep evenly, since neither of you remember how many each had," she said. "Each of you will take an equal number of rams, ewes, and lambs. If that does not seem to suffice either of you, perhaps simply combining your flock and sharing the profit evenly would work better in your favor." 

She kept her back straight and her hands folded in her lap the whole time. While Oriana liked helping her people, she could get annoyed over something quite trivial. She would never let them know when it got to her, however.

Thankfully, that seemed to smooth the issue over, and the squabbling finally came to an end. Donovan waited until they left and told her, "You know, I would have just split the sheep in half with my sword. Then I divided the pieces among them, just to teach them a lesson about such trivial squabbles."

Oriana merely nodded at his grotesque suggestion. "And perhaps it would have taught them a lesson, but they would never come back for my advice again," she said.

"Of course, a heathen like you would think of such a solution." Tyir responded.

Donovan would ignore Tyir. Looking over at Oriana, he asked, "Have you thought about appointing people to discuss and take care of things like this? I mean, no offense. I just feel like your time is better spent. This is why the mages have multiple councils and guilds, along with people in charge of stuff like that."

"I have thought about it," she said as she picked a bit of fuzz off her dress. It was hard to look Donovan in the face for very long without turning red. Especially after what happened last night.