- (My information for his banner comes from here.)
SIR CHARLES PLANTAGNET
twenty :: lord :: on the way to the palace
twenty :: lord :: on the way to the palace
- He dug his boot-clad heels in the sides of his mount, spurring the mare on. He was running late. While he had been up before dawn and setting off minutes later, they had run into problems during the ride to the palace: his carriage had broken, for lack of better words. The gold-trimmed wheels were the problem, for one had come off and therefore he could not continue in such a manner if he was to arrive in good time and not miss the entire masquerade ball. Thank God that his own horse, his loyal, steady war horse, had been pulling the carriage with three other horses. He had released her and tacked her up quickly, sending one of his escort back home bareback. Now he thundered along at the head of the company as they arrived in the capital with six of his guard behind him, two stride for stride bearing his symbol: an Allerion and antlers on a background of red. Civilians moved out of the way as his horse pounded along the cobbles.
They raced through the marketplace, scattering people in their wake and eventually the grand gates of the palace came into view. Leaning back from his position over her long neck, Charles sat upright and slowed to a steady trot, one hand on the reins and the other patting the wet fur of Little Bee's neck. "Well done," he whispered gently. Once he had an apple he would give it to her. But onto more pressing matters. Where were the guards of the palace? He had to get in. Already he had received the invitation bearing the royal seal from one of his men and now it was held in his spare hand as his progression ground to a halt, staring up at the gates.