∂αℓтση - тнє ѕтαвℓєѕ - αℓσηє
The ladies were all to arrive either today or tomorrow, and Dalton was terrified. It was a feeling he hadn't felt for a very long time, and it fluttered in his abdomen as he struggled to contain it. He was vaguely ashamed of himself. (You're a prince and you've faced much worse and they're just people!)
But Dalton also almost...resented...the fact that they were coming to him. Especially all at once. He would have preferred to travel to them, or have them come one, or maybe even two, at a time. Instead, they were all invading his home at once. However, there were very few young women his age in the castle, and it would be nice to have someone to interact (flirt) with, even if the idea of interacting (flirting) with them made the pit of terror in his stomach grow.
Dalton walked from the dining room, where he had eaten a breakfast of toast and eggs, to the stables. He located his stallion, Hippolyte*, who was calming chewing a clump of hay. The ends stuck out of the horse's mouth, and Dalton smiled. He called over a stableboy.
"Groom and tack up my horse," he ordered. The youth nodded, and hurried to get the tack and grooming kit.
Dalton waited patiently for the boy to finish his task, and ended up bridling the horse and grooming about half of it. He mounted up, and rode out of the stable at a walk. When Dalton was out of the stable, he trotted through a small courtyard out a gate that led directly from the palace to the outside world. Dalton could have gone through the city, but he preferred not to. He urged Hippolyte into a canter, rocking forward and back to match the horse's strides. Dalton rode along the bank of the river at a trot for about a mile, and then turned back. He wasn't positive when the first lady would arrive, but he knew that his mother expected him to greet her.
*Pronounced ee-po-LET
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тнє qυєєη - тнє ραℓα¢є - αℓσηє
"Your Grace, your dress has been finished."
The Queen turned to the young page. "Is that so? Make sure it gets to my chambers in perhaps...fifteen minutes. Yes, that ought to be enough. Hurry along, now."
The page bowed, and ran off. The Queen sighed. "All of the pages are such nervous little things."
One of her maids, Sergia, answered. "They certainly are, your Grace. I wonder why that is."
"Perhaps it is I that is indimidating," pondered the Queen.
Sergia, smiled. "They might, your Grace. When I first began to serve you, you seemed very frightening. After I spent more time around you, I discovered that you are quite nice.
"Thank you, Sergia. Now, I believe your shift is over, and you may go home."
Sergia curtsied. "Thank you, your Grace."
Teanna walked back to her chambers quickly, excited to see the dress. When she entered her chambers, her second maid, Bekkah, helped her put on the dress. It was light yellow, with white lace. Teanna decided to leave it on, as the first potential brides of her son arrived today. She then exited her chambers, and continued to walk around the palace as she had done before. However, just as she stepped outside her chambers, a palace guard rushed to her.
"Your Grace! A party is in sight!"