The Prince's Escape

Chapter 2 || Now, You've Done It

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"How's my sweet boy this morning," I whisper to Bolo as I groom his chestnut mane. He nuzzles into my side. "I'll take that as a good." I woke hours ago to clean out the stalls, and feed the horses. Now, I am simply primping them. The royals like their property to be primped and proper at all times. 

In the distance, I can hear the training of the Knights, and my eyes wander longingly to the hidden chest of weapons my father had tucked away, long before I held the strength to wield a sword. "Could I be a Knight one day?" I asked, after watching my father move with such grace and ease. His dark eyes shimmered with pride as he picked me up in his arms. "You can be anything you want to be." A pang of sadness hits my chest. 

The Black Death tore him and my mother away from me, leaving me in the trusted hands of Ferbius, a wiry old man with a calming gentleness about him. He is the trusted physician of the Kingdom Irales. He was there the day my parents died. He held me when I cried out for them in despair, and he has done his best to ensure I never felt unloved without them. But with my father gone, any dream I had about joining the Knights died with him. Ferbius wouldn't dream of me picking up a weapon. Instead, Ferbius trains me to follow in his footsteps at night and during the day I work in the stables and care for the animals. He says, "a horse teach the gentle hand a physician requires to heal." 

I'm preparing to head to the next stall to tend to Delec, when I hear the stables open and people talking. I should make my presence known, so it does not appear as though I am ease dropping, but I'm cut short by women shirking. 

"It's disgusting in here! Who in their right mind would want to be in here all day?" What kind of arse would say words such as those? How dare she! I just cleaned it!

I can't hold back a moment longer. "Me," I call becoming angry at the sheer rudeness. "I would and I do. Have you got a problem with the condition of the horses, miss?" I say placing the brush down and stepping out of the stall. 

"Now, you've done it," I hear Davis sigh. Damn, Davis means the Prince, but there is no going back now. 

"Yes, I do," the same awful snide voice.

Feck it all to hell, I have to just do it. I push back the stall door and make my face seen. "And you are?" I ask, knowing full well they could have my head.

A woman in a dress too tight, and with makeup too done, locks eyes with me. It felt as though she was trying to set me on fire with that one look. Too bad I have had enough experiences with prats. "I am Princess Francesca of Ramila and the future Queen of this Kingdom, and you will show me the respect I deserve."

It's as though, I'm literally asking to be sent to court, as I can't help the small giggle that escapes my lips. "I am giving you the respect you deserve," I state, crossing my arms and meeting her glare.

"I shall not hear another word from this servant," the witch exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. "Luca, did you hear the way it spoke to me. If we were in my Kingdom it would already be dead," she stomped.

Prince Luca's brown eyes met mine for the first time, and I could see why it is people find him so attractive. His light blonde hair holds a well kept, yet shaggy charm, while his chiseled jawline and intense gaze remind people of his status and strength. I watched as he subtly looked to he Davis, who stood speechless. "Surely, this is nothing that needs to be escalated to death," Prince Luca, began, trying to ease the tension created in the room. 

"It insulted your future queen," the woman, shirked at an octave that would make dogs bark. 

"No, I didn't. You were simply confused, and I cleared things up a bit for you. Also, I am not an It," I replied trying my hardest to keep my temper at bay, and remain somewhat civil regardless of my words.