Wasn't it Supposed to be Different?

8: Traveling

Prince Ivan's POV

The way to Sord is long traveling over unclaimed wastelands and other places.

In my time as a wandering knight I had over and again traveled through many of these lands, the trip lasting only a few weeks. But with a Princess like my dearest wife I hate to think how hauntingly long it would be. The preparation time alone would take a month in the least, but if it would lift Christia's spirits I might try.

Waking the next morning, Christia was still ignoring me causing my bad mood to surface. It just continued as we broke our  fast, woe to me.

Princess Christa

I never thought words uttered by the Prince would make me this happy, "What would you say for a trip to the kingdom of Sord?" he seemed hesitant, as if I wouldn't love a trip to my home kingdom!

My face lighting up in happiness was answer enough for him as he sighed in relief.

Relief of what? It wasn't like I was some monster. Would he ever cease to confuse me?

Prince Ivan's POV

We finally set off for Sord, lucky for me it only took three weeks to prepare! A whole week of time saved.

We rode horseback, the supplies tied on extra pack mules. Wagons would only break on the kind of paths we would have to follow.

It surprised me that Christia even knew how to ride a horse, such rigorous activity for a dainty fragile princess could hardly be expected.

Though I must admit, I was somewhat dissapointed I wouldn't have the pleasure of my beautiful princess riding in my arms in front of me, only a horse to keep us company. Even if she blamed our camping for her 'disappointing' life, I missed our relaxing travels together.  So maybe she had been prissy and annoying, but she still put up with me.

She sat a horse side-saddle with a regal air and one of years of practice. To admit she was a fine horsewoman was all I could do.

Camping that night again reminded me of our first camping trip. Except of course servants and lady in waiting surrounded us and our 'tent' had  thick layers of furs and carpets on the floor protecting us from the ground. -personally I don't understand what's so dangerous about dirt.- And as absurd as it is they moved furniture into the tent as well. A bed, a chair, even a small writing desk "just incase we felt so inclined to write a poem" or something ludicrous as that.

But for all the pomp and unessisary extravagance, it made Christia happy, so I would cope with it as best I could.

We continued to travel as weeks passed by, and gradually in her happiness to be on her way visiting home Christian began to talk to me.
It was small at first, little memories from her childhood here and there. How Meria her cousin was her favorite playmate sharing the laughs and cries of childhood together. I also told her about my childhood, how when my mother was alive she had brought so much life to the castle. Thinking back there never was a sad moment with her around, if I was sad she knew how to cheer me up, knew how to encourage me to be brave enough to face the world.

It came to that my favorite time of our trip was evening when we had retired to bed, where we didn't  talk while riding horses we made up for plenty losing some sleep at night.

I still felt that she could change her mind and close herself off from me. I didn't understand her logic, and with that anything unexpected could happen.

One day, while riding and enjoying the unusually warm and sunny weather for this time of year, I spotted a small purple flower. It was beautiful in the strength is seemed to give, stubborn enough to still be in bloom this late in the season. Reminding me of Christia, she was stubborn in her ideas of proper behavior for princes and princesses, and strong enough to maintain that dispite her surroundings.

Stopping and swinging off of my horse, I walked to the flower. "What better purpose than a beautiful gift would this flower's stubborn beauty serve?" Picking the flower, I hoped Christia would accept my small gift.

We stopped for a rest shortly after, to eat our midday meal and refresh ourselves. I found Christia in the shade of a tree, sitting on a large stone as if it were her throne and the world her subjects.

"I, uh.. This is for you." I presented her with the small purple flower, now feeling embarrassed at such a silly gift.

She lifted her curved eyebrow at me as she took the flower, "This is nothing but a wildflower! Stop stumbling around the countryside like some country lad!"

She didn't say anything else, but she didn't return the flower. And as I looked back as I walked away I found a soft smile on her face as she gently held the flower in her hands.

Princess Christia's POV

It was small and unassuming, but I felt a care for Ivan settle into my heart. The flower was a small beauty of perfection, each petals formed symetrically. I marveled at the wonders of nature.

I smiled as I remembered a tale my nurse once told Meria and I about how all the flowers were cared by small flower faries. I believed it at the time, and I and my cousin spent hours searching in the palace gardens for any sign of them.
I sighed in happiness at how simple and beautiful life was back then.
No worries, just two young girls spending their days in playful bliss.

Thinking of my life now would always lead back to Ivan. -I like calling him that, husband was too strange, and prince was too formal for how close my relationship to him was.- I had mixed feelings with him.
One moment he was so sweet, but in he same moment he was not carrying himself as a prince should.

I would accept him for who he was, but it wasn't me he needed to be accepted by. It was his people and the rulers of bordering countries.

I felt closer to him than I had ever felt for a man before in my life, yet I still didn't think I knew him well at all.

2/7/17