Part 1

743 Words
ONE To six-year-old Princess Sativa, betrothed seemed like such a strange word. Mother had told Sativa that it was a fancy word that meant promised. She was promised to the prince, and he was promised to her. When she'd asked what kind of promise, her mother had only smiled and said, "The unbreakable sort." So now Sativa sat in the place of honour in her father's hall, beside her promised, Prince Reidar. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with him. Big boys like him usually spent all their time in the practice yard, sparring with swords and shooting arrows into targets. He had a sword strapped to his side, too, like one of her father's knights. It was smaller than their swords, though, for he was only a boy. It certainly bothered his mother, though. Queen Regina looked like she'd drunk vinegar instead of wine every time he bumped her with his sheathed sword. More than once, Sativa had been forced to smother her laughter, or risk a quelling glance from her own mother. Sativa yawned, remembering to cover her mouth before her mother saw. She wouldn't have been so excited about attending this feast if she'd known it was so boring. She'd eaten her fill of the food, and she wasn't allowed any wine, so why did she have to keep sitting there? Normally when she'd finished her dinner, she could go play with her little sisters, or the castle kittens, but her mother insisted she must spend the whole dull day with the prince. Her betrothed. He'd arrived here on his horse yesterday, and he'd scarcely said a word to her since. She eyed him carefully as he ate another piece of meat. He had a tongue and teeth, same as her, so he should be able to talk. While she watched, she caught him smothering a yawn. He was as bored as she was! "Do you want to see my horse?" Sativa asked Prince Reidar. Reidar turned to Regina. "Mother, may I?" "Kings do not ask permission, they command," came the reply through Regina's gritted teeth. She eyed Sativa with distaste. Reidar drew himself up. "Mother, I am going with my betrothed to see the horses," he announced grandly. Regina nodded once. "Mother," Sativa began. "You may go. A feasting hall is no place for children, and it grows late," Mother said. She peered fearfully at the hall's high windows, where the afternoon sun slanted in. Sativa forced a smile. Her mother had been afraid of the dark for as long as she could remember. Not for herself, but for her children. Apparently Sativa's fairy godmother, Dalia, had told her that her daughters would be stolen from her by evil that swooped out of the darkness. Queen Dorota had lived in nightly dread ever since. "Yes, Mother," Sativa said. Sativa led the way out of the hall, hearing Reidar's heavier footsteps behind her. "His name is Philip, and he's really only a pony. Father says I may have a proper sized horse when I am bigger." Sativa glanced back over her shoulder. "As big as you, I think." "When you are my queen, you will need a proper horse to ride. How else will you go hunting?" Reidar said. "Queens don't hunt, Mother says. Killing is a job for men." Reidar laughed. "My mother hunts as well as any man, or so my father says. So do many of the ladies at my father's court. They call it sport, pitting oneself against a noble beast, then bringing its carcass home for the victory feast. When you come to my castle, I will make sure you learn to hunt." Forbidden pleasures and a new horse. Maybe her betrothal wasn't such a bad thing. "What else do you have in your castle?" Sativa asked. "Will I get to wear beautiful gowns like my mother does?" "Fit for a queen, I am sure. You shall choose them," Reidar said. Betrothal sounded better and better. Sativa led the way out to the fields beside the castle, but there wasn't a horse to be seen. "Where are they?" she asked in dismay. She found a guardsman at the castle gate. "Where are the horses?" she demanded. "This time of day, the horses are all in their stable, having dinner, young mistress," the guardsman said. Sativa wasn't supposed to enter the stables, but with her mother and everyone else at the feast, no one but she and Reidar would ever know. "We must speak of this to no one," she said imperiously as she led the way.
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