The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Thirteen - Friends in Odd Places

Mark enters his room and shuts the door as a long sigh escapes his lips, wondering whether a day will pass where he doesn't feel confused, lonely, or curious.  His mind buzzes, more questions replacing the ones he just had answered. 

In every generation, a child is born with a mark somewhere on their body...

King Seán's words echo in his head as he furrows his brows, approaching the body-length mirror standing beside the dresser. Was it Thomas, him, or maybe an unknown cousin that was born with the mark out of his generation? His father had always said he was an only child, so Mark wouldn't have cousins, but was that just a ploy to explain the lack of relatives in the kingdom? What happens when the person with the mark passes away?

Tomorrow, when the king is better rested, he'll ask him more about the marks. Going down and waking him up now seems cruel, so he'll be contented to wait. He moves away from the mirror and sighs, glancing out at the sky. It's evening; the perfect time for a stroll in the gardens.

Mark opens the door of his room and climbs down the stairs towards the main hall. The guards, although wary, don't attempt to stop him. The farmer assumes they already got the memo about his partial freedom.

With some help from a few servants, he finds his way to the gardens. A few people mill about, looking at roses or speaking in hushed tones to one another, but other than them it's empty. The cool, evening air rustles the leaves on the trees and bushes, filling the gardens with a calming ambience. A small courtyard lies nearby with a fountain bubbling merrily in its centre, the water nearly glowing in the evening light.

Mark strolls towards the fountain, watching the water fly into the air before cascading back down into the pool below. A couple of ladies in fancy dresses watch Mark and giggle to one another, but he doesn't acknowledge them as he sits down on one of the benches. The light breeze feels wonderful and the grass seems greener after being cooped up inside, and he's going to enjoy it as much as possible.

As soon as he's tired of sitting, he strolls across the garden once again. There's a large training field for soldiers, which is currently vacant, and a stable that echoes with the snorting and whinnying of horses. An immediate smile rises to Mark's face when he hears the animals, leading him to go towards their stables.

"Am I permitted to see your horses?" he asks one of the stable boys.

The young man looks up at him and nods rapidly, eyeing the royal-esque clothing. "Yes, sir."

"Thank you." Mark gives him a light smile and enters the stable, where the horses watch him with curious brown eyes. The farmer strokes the velvety nose of the nearest animal, unable to contain his grin. "Hey there, girl."

As he pets the horse, he spots a small creature moving in his peripheral vision. When he looks down, he realizes that there are a couple dogs in the stable as well, which only increases his joy. Animals have always helped him feel less lonely even as a child, and now is no exception. He settles on the floor and lets the dogs climb into his lap and lick his hands, scratching their ears and feeling better than he has in a long time.

"You seem a bit too... laid-back to be a royal, sir. If you don't mind me asking, where are you from?" the stable boy asks, standing nearby with a hay-covered rake in his hand.

The farmer keeps one hand on the dog in his lap while running his free hand through his hair. "I was born on a farm here in Viride, but it turns out I'm not the farmer I thought I was."

"It's rare that one refers to the kingdom by its official name when they're from here." The stable boy cocks his head to the side slightly, causing his brown hair to fall into his face. "Are you from elsewhere? Your accent isn't common either."

Mark chuckles. "My parents moved here before I was born, but I was homeschooled due to the fact that most schools here speak Irish Gaelic, so I ended up keeping my accent."

"Being homeschooled sounds lonely."

"It was." Mark glances at the boy. "You have a similar accent to mine. Where are you from?"

"A small farming town a short ways away from Rubellus. I moved here on my own to get a job under King Seán."

Mark chuckles a bit. "My family is from Rubellus as well, although I've never been there."

The stable hand smiles. "I'm Ethan."

"Mark."

A look of realization flickers in his eyes. "Pleasure."

"Pleasure is all mine," Mark answers.

Ethan attempts to hide a grin. "The servants and guards talk about you. Your escape attempt is the most exciting thing that's happened in this castle in a while."

Mark's entire face turns bright red. "You know who I am?"

"I didn't realize until you said your name, but yeah. I've heard of you," Ethan says. "I won't tell anyone what you've told me if you don't want me to."

"Thank you," the farmer says. He stands and scratches the dog's ears one more time before straightening up. "I should head back to the castle. I will probably see you again, Ethan."

The stable boy bows his head. "Come by anytime, sir."

Mark smiles and nods before exiting the stable and emerging into the cool night air.