one x one | titaniumpaws333 and andyy

[ingenuity,]

-a young stable girl and a prince cross paths-
a boy who loves horses more than people
a girl who thinks the prince is unbearable
what could go wrong?

[ingenuity,]

james bennett

gender. male
age. nineteen, born december
twenty-eighth, capricorn zodiac sign
height. six feet and three inches
weight. one-hundred ninety-two lbs
personality. loyal, honest, stubborn,
confident, gentle, observant, rational
physical traits. hazel eyes, light brown
hair, well built and strong

[TitaniumPaws333]

Name: Camille Ebner
Gen: Female
Age: 18, Birthdate: March 11th
Height: 5'7"
Appearance: Light auburn hair, hazel eye color, upturned eyes, average with some muscular frame
Personality: Observant, apprehensive (sometimes), good-natured and protective when it comes to those she's close to, and determined/efficient when it comes to things she wants done.

[ingenuity,]

Morning light filtered through the crack between the closed curtains of my window, slightly illuminating my room with an eerie blue light. The sun wasn't up yet, but the sky was getting brighter with each passing second as the sun neared the horizon. I laid in my bed for a few moments, blinking the sleep from my face. I could feel the lack of sleep last night weighing me down. It only made the feeling of just having woken up even worse. It was still early, but I knew what I was going to do first thing: check on Bordeaux. Bordeaux, a Cleveland Bay horse, had recently had surgery due to colic. I was a bit worried about him, even though the vet said he should be fine. Bordeaux was at one point the best horse in the stables, although he aged eventually and retired from shows. For a long time, I practised mounted archery with the gentle and well-trained horse. I couldn't do that anymore, though. With these thoughts in mind, I got out of bed, immediately missing the comfort and warmth the covers gave me. Knowing that I'd end up riding even if I was going down just to check on Bordeaux, I pulled on riding attire and a comfortable jacket. Recently it had been getting warmer while rain was less of an every-day occurrence, which made it a lot better for riding. However, it was still cold outside, especially in the mornings. I knew I'd want long sleeves. After going through the same routine I did every day to get myself ready, I walked out of my room into the elegant hall which was one of many decked in old, expensive paintings, tapestries, and other works of art. I knew my parents were likely already awake, so I tried to avoid running into either of them. If they spotted me going out, there was no doubt that they'd try to find something for me to do which they found more productive than "wasting my time with a filthy sick horse," which were the words of my mother. My father supported the sports I enjoyed: archery, various equestrian sports, and fencing. My mother, however, did not. She thought that I should be spending my time out and about, searching for a woman to make a future with me. Of course, this meant socialising. I preferred not to show my face in public unless I had to. News reporters and other people were just pests, repeating questions and taking far too many pictures. I didn't know how my parents dealt with it. Oh, right. They didn't. My mother rarely went out herself, and when she did go out, she made sure that no one got pictures of her. Sometimes she would allow it, but that was rare. There wasn't much I could do to stop the paparazzi from bothering me, so I usually stayed here, at home. As I walked outside, I could feel the nip of early spring frost in the air. My breath was visible when I exhaled, a white cloud swirling out ahead of me. Not wanting to waste time, I walked to the stables quickly. I wasn't sure when the stablekeeper usually got there, but I wouldn't be surprised if whoever it was would be there already. I heard that the last one was fired because he was disrespectful to someone my father sent down here. Although I didn't really pay attention to who was down here, I wondered who they got to take care of the horses now. It wasn't long before I reached the stables. I walked in cautiously, hoping that no one but the stablekeeper would be here. As you might have guessed, I wasn't a fan of social interaction.

[TitaniumPaws333]

The water inside the wooden bucket sloshed around nosily while I carried it towards a horse stable. Some of it managed to escape and soaked into the jeans I wore, which only greatened how cold I was. This was my fault, I realized as I poured the water into the stall, since I was in a rush to get to the palace on time and forgot my gloves. I made a mental note of asking around for a pair I could borrow after I was done feeding this horse. I moved the bucket's handle up to my elbow, which made it easier to carry, and finally got a good look at the horse I had tended to. It's name-plate read Bordeaux, a pretty name. The horse reminded me of one I had always dreamed of owning when I was younger, and I always used to see this particular one in shows. I never imagined I'd be taking care of him, and I carefully went over to him to not startle him and stroked his neck gently. "Aren't you a handsome thing?" I cooed, after stroking his mane. I exited the stall and was in the process of closing the gate when I heard footsteps and I turned around. Much to my surprise it was the prince, and in my haste I blurted out a rushed "Hello, your majesty," before giving a small bow. I knew some of the people attending the palace visited the stalls, but I didn't expect royalty.

[ingenuity,]

My footsteps weren't the only ones I heard as I walked into the stable. I heard horses pawing at the ground and another set of footsteps. The morning light flooded the stables, which made it easier to see who was there. I assumed it was the stablekeeper. Her rushed hello almost bothered me. I knew people thought it disrespectful not to address me as "your majesty" or something, but I almost preferred that they didn't. The damp dirt clinging to my boots made the straw and hay also follow me. The clumps of dirt and ground made each step feel strange, but I ignored that. Giving the girl who looked to be about my age a small nod, I walked up to Bordeaux and opened the stall door. When I walked in, Bordeaux nudged me with his nose, eagerly trying to get me to scratch his forehead and ears. His reddish-brown fur was clean, which was a good sign that he wasn't rolling around or trying to kick himself. Having the biggest stall meant he had plenty of room to do these things. It was one of the reasons I even noticed that he was having issues in the first place. Colic was abdominal pains in the horse. It could be caused by a number of things, but all of them lead to one issue: lack of flow in the intestines. Sometimes it could just be gas or food trapped in the intestine or an extra growth. It could even be that the intestine got twisted, in which case surgery was imperative. Bordeaux's large colon had twisted. It was lucky that he survived and hadn't gone into toxic shock. The ageing horse would probably have more colic issues in the future, but for now, he was okay. I stroked the horse's neck, speaking to him softly. "You're healing well, aren't you?" I muttered, moving to his head and scratching the white star that ran down his long face. I'd probably have to brush him later today and make sure that his healing wound was clean, but right now, I wanted to go ride. Now that I had checked on one of my most prized horses and my best friend for the past few years, I was going to take out another show horse. I walked out of the stall, closing it behind me. Bordeaux protested with a stomp on the ground, but I wasn't going to come back for a while. The stall next to Bordeaux had a similar nameplate, but it read Castiel. Castiel was a buckskin thoroughbred stallion. He was a great jumper and quickly becoming one of my favourite horses in the stable. I approached his stall to see him drinking the freshly refilled water. Before I entered, I went to grab brushes so I could groom Castiel. However, when I tried to find the hoof pick, I couldn't. I glanced around, seeing the stable girl. I really didn't want to confront her or talk, but... I let out a sigh. "... Do you happen to know where the hoof pick is?" We should have had multiple, but the previous one broke, so there was only one left now. It would be easy to get another; I just hadn't gotten a chance to get one or get someone to.

[TitaniumPaws333]

After the awkward bow, I quickly made my way towards the storage closet near the front of the barn. The empty bucket I carried clanged nosily the whole way, and I placed it in the closet in frustration. I didn't like being caught off guard, and now I had forgotten what task I was supposed to do after refilling the water. I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from my jean pocket with trembling fingers and was reminded how I had forgotten gloves. I looked up from the paper and glanced at the prince, who was examining the next horse over from Bordeaux. I could have asked him if there were any gloves I could borrow, but I didn't know the "proper etiquette" of speaking to royalty, as I was raised by two common-goers, my mother and grandmother. The only royalty experience I've ever had was signing up for this job, which had caught my attention because of the pay it was offering in return for service. My paycheck, if I kept this job for at least a month, would pay off the debt my mother had unfortunately collected from trying to repair a section of our house that had wood rot. I decided against asking him and instead focused on finding the gloves myself. After I shoved the paper back in my pocket, I noticed a step ladder which laid against the closet, and propped it open underneath a shelf I couldn't reach. I climbed up and noticed a bunch of expensive looking grooming supplies strewn about on the shelf, but no gloves. Just as I had gotten off the step ladder, I heard the prince ask, "Do you happen to know where the hoof pick is?" I stepped back up and grabbed a hoof pick that looked like it cost as much as my entire wardrobe did, and replied, "Yes, your majesty, I can bring you one." My response, I hoped, didn't sound as bad as my greeting did, and in the back of my mind I wished I had asked my mother how to address people ranked higher than us. I walked over to him and held out the pick while I adverted my eyes, which I hoped was also a sign of respect. Again, I was clueless on how to react.

[ingenuity,]

I didn't know what I was expecting for a reply, but what I got was not what I wanted. I frowned a bit, irritated. While this was what most people would say, I was sick of it. "Enough with that 'your majesty' crap. My name is James. It would do just fine to tell me where it is," I snapped rather rudely. Maybe I should have been a bit more gentle or sounded more forgiving. For a first impression, this was not going well. I couldn't help it, though; I needed at least one person other than my parents who would address me by my name. My hands played with the drawstring on the jacket as I watched the stable girl grab the pick for me. As she held it out, I tried to meet her eyes, my expression serious and irritated. I didn't say anything about it, though, as I took the pick and walked away to grab the bucket that held the other cleaning supplies. One might think that I was serious or rude just from this, but if someone was to think that, then they didn't really know me. The only ones who didn't judge me were the horses. Bordeaux, Castiel, Onyx, Aurora, and many other horses were better than most people. They listened; they didn't judge; they never objected to having me around. Sometimes. The stall door creaked quietly as I opened it and walked into Castiel's space. He didn't seem to care that I was there even as I began to pick the rocks and clumps of dirt out of his hooves. If anything it seemed that he enjoyed it. He stood still as I used the curry comb to remove loose hair then moved on to the dandy brush and a soft brush. Finally, after brushing his dark mane and tail, I took the grooming supplies and put them back. When I did this, I grabbed a black lead rope and hooked it to the matching halter to lead him out of the stables. I paid no attention to anything else around me while I saddled the large buckskin stallion. Everything I owned was high end and well maintained. The black saddle fit nicely on the horse's back. After getting everything ready, I led Castiel into the arena. Once I mounded the horse, I felt the familiar feeling of belonging. This is where I was meant to be. On a horse. Alone. In the quiet outdoors with no one watching. Shows were exciting an fun, but it was nice to not be judged for every move. I made a soft click with my tongue and pressed my heels into Castiel's sides to get him to move forward. We moved into a posting trot as I guided him around the arena. I focused on the centre of the first jump as Castiel turned towards it. Once we began approaching it, I adjusted my focus to the next obstacle. As the horse jumped, I felt the familiar sensation that I loved. If there was anything I loved more than archery, it was being on a horse in general.

[TitaniumPaws333]

I turned around and briskly walked away after I handed him the hoof pick. The rude remark the prince retorted shocked me, because on T.V., what he was perceived to be was nothing near what I just experienced. There were programs where the royal family got featured on, and when the electricity was good, I watched them on my family's small T.V., out of curiosity. I made my way over to a checklist which hung on a wall and marked off the tasks I had done, and realized that I should not have been so surprised at his outburst. He probably had multiple people that worked under his family's rule that he yelled at daily, just because he had the power to do so, and a lowly stablehand was no different. I capped the pen and glared at James, or whatever his name was, and watched as he lead the finely groomed stallion out it's stall. Good, I thought, while I made my way to the sinks to clean dirty supplies. Now I could finish my job without "his majesty's" arrogance being there. I turned on the sink and the water to warm and soaked my hands in the water, grateful they had stopped shaking, then proceeded to clean the supplies.

I walked over to where I had put my backpack and lifted it onto my shoulders after I was done cleaning, then proceeded to exit the stables. I made my way towards a small building occupied by other workers and clocked out, then reluctantly started the walk home. I was used to walking to where I had to go though, since the car my family owned was always used by my mother. As I walked in the cold, with my hands tucked into the crooks of my arms, I heard the sound of a horse trotting and assumed it was the prince. I felt bad for whichever horse it was, as the poor thing was stuck with him for company. As noticed, I reacted badly to negative interactions with others.

[ingenuity,]

It was a long time before I was interrupted by a staff member from the castle. He cleared his throat, about to speak, but before he could, I stopped the horse I was currently on, Onyx, and looked down at him. The short, black-and-white haired man looked up at me as I spoke. "My father wants me to come into town with him?" I guessed easily. The older man with greying hair nodded. "Yes, sir." A frustrated sigh escaped me. "Alright, then. Tell him I'll be there soon." Without waiting for an answer, I sat straight again and looked forward. The older man obviously knew I was going to continue riding, because he quickly interjected, "with all due respect, Your-" he didn't even get a chance to finish before Onyx took off in a trot then sped up to a canter, leaving the man in the dust. It wasn't that I meant to do that, I just didn't want to talk. As I came around the arena and towards him again, he raised his voice a bit, "he told me that he needs you now, Your Ma-" I passed him once again, this time intentionally urging Onyx to change speeds and kick up more dust. I heard the only other person around here coughing, yet he still tried to convince me to leave. Irritated with his persistence, I stopped by him this time. "I get it," I snapped, sliding off the beautiful black mare's back. "Tell him I'll be there soon," I repeated myself and emphasised my words. "I can't just leave the horse after working her hard, can I? She's sweaty and dirty. Just go tell my father that he can wait a few minutes longer." Again without waiting for an answer, I took Onyx's reigns and led her away from the arena.

With clean clothes and freshly washed and styled hair, I walked out of my room to find my father waiting patiently next to my infuriated mother. She gave me a glare that could freeze anyone except for me, her only child who had stared back at that deathly cold stare for nearly twenty years now. "Finally," my mother snapped, "We're going to have dinner with some very important people and their daughter." She stepped forward and tugged at the collar of my shirt, fixing even the smallest things she thought were below her standards. "Well, you're lucky you're such a handsome young man, or these clothes wouldn't do. If we weren't running late and our guests weren't waiting for you, I'd have told you to shave that scruff off your face. Now grab your jacket and let's go." Suppressing a sigh, I turned back and walked to my closet. There, I picked out the navy blue jacket that, in my opinion, was far too dressy. Of course, my mother would approve of my decision, which was the only reason why I'd grabbed it. When I walked out, my mother gave me a nod of approval and turned, walking away briskly. The clack of her dark purple high-heels against the white marble floor faded as she walked down the hall towards the front of the palace where the front entrance was. My father gave me a smile full of pity, patted my shoulder, and followed my mother. That sigh I'd suppressed escaped me as I watched my extravagantly dressed parents walk away. I was in for one hell of a day.

My eyes adjusted to the midday sunlight as I stepped out of the sleek white limousine. A tall golden-brown haired young woman followed me out, linking her arm with mine. The short, black dress she was wearing was rather revealing; something I wasn't a big fan of. The design looked utterly ridiculous to me. Of course, I would never say that aloud in fear of my mother hearing. As we walked towards the entrance of the restaurant behind our parents, the clicks of camera and chatter of news reporters and other people surrounded us. They were blocked off by a makeshift fence and bodyguards, which assured that no one would come too close to the royal family. As we came closer to the entrance of the restaurant, I saw one news reporter, a blonde woman holding a microphone and wearing a mask of makeup, standing and waiting for us to approach. Her eyes were set on the daughter of an important businessman and how her arm was linked with mine. I hated this with every fibre of my being, but I did it because my mother would have nagged me about it for weeks otherwise. The reporter finally walked up to us, holding a microphone with a triangular flag under it that read "BWNN 6" She looked at the woman on my right with a wide smile, then at the camera. I avoided looking at the camera or the reporter. "And here is the prince and Chloe Griffith, the daughter of the royal family's head of security. Chloe, how's it feel to be so close to the prince and get to know him?" The reporter's words immediately bothered me, but I didn't want to speak to anyone, so I kept quiet for a moment longer. Chloe, who I had only met a year ago despite her family being the head of security for decades, replied, "It's great! I love being around J-" I interrupted her quickly, not being able to take it anymore. I hated the idea that they thought Chloe and I were close. This girl standing next to me was not a friend nor was she even an acquaintance. "Actually, we don't know each other. We're here for business reasons. Speaking of which, we need to go." Choe's mouth was stuck open slightly in hesitation. She tried to speak again, but when she did, I slipped my arm out of her grip and simply walked away from the camera. I wasn't going to let people just believe that this irritating girl was close to me or ever would be. I'd seen Chloe on almost everything online. News, social media, wikis- everything. Of course, I was, too, but there was never much about me because I tried my best to stay away from things like that. Just by everything online and knowing Chloe somewhat myself, I knew most of the things online were true. I knew already that I didn't like Chloe whatsoever. I also knew why my parents had us both come along. It wasn't happening. There is no way in hell I am ever going to be interested in making my future with some stuck-up spoiled brat.