Cian was still debating if he should continue pressing or soothing the surprising little girl in front of him (she even made him laugh, of all things!) when, very unfortunately, their parents approached, led by Duke Edwards himself. The burly man approached with a face that didn’t deny his usual reserved mood: The man was calm, reticent, practical, and forever loyal to his Queen, and that was why she always ordered him to take care of guests and newcomers in the Court. No other noble would have the chance of winning them over before she decided if she wanted them or not.
The Prince smiled when the other girls flocked together little chicks when they spotted them, the oldest one immediately throwing her eyes in their direction, asking for further instructions not from him, no, but from her younger sister.
The smaller one looked at her. If he wasn’t watching her closely and intently he wouldn’t notice the slight turn in her head, undoubtedly to indicate they should approach their parents, who followed close behind the Duke.
He chucked.
“Still giving orders, I see,” he said very quietly.
Gabriel shot him one look very close to annoyance, but smiled before bowing her head.
“As you said before Your Highness, I’m usually the one knowledgeable about courtesy,” he shook his head in defeat. Once again she managed to neither directly acknowledge nor deny his claims, “Should we join them?”
“We should,” and that they did.
The Thatcher’s daughters all placed themselves behind their parents (soon the fourth one was gathered as well) making him have to position himself in the terrible spot of interacting with the leeches.
“My Prince, though it’s an honor to finally see you, should we talk about the important matters at hand? What did you think of our girls?”
“Oh yes,” the mother, an older lady remarkably similar to the eldest daughter, had more tact, “We are very eager to have the opportunity to chat. Perhaps we could set a date to have some afternoon tea?”
He gave them a distant smile.
“Perhaps a morning breakfast would be more fitting. I imagine we have much to talk about and I wouldn’t want you to face any danger or inconvenience if you end up having to go back to your home in the night,” and with that, he would ensure they would leave on the same day at least.
The older man gave a guffaw that reminded him very much of the Third’s Tatcher girl’s laugh.
“You will be surprised to find out that a long way home won’t be a problem at all!” He had a satisfied gleam in his eyes.
Cian squinted his eyes. Was he implying what he was thinking? His mother wouldn’t do so without asking him, would she?
“Is that so? Now you made me rather curious, Mr Tatcher.”
“Your Mother was the most generous to us, the most generous!” Ah. So she would.
A cold type of frustration, one very close to anger, boiled in his stomach.
“Now I understand,” his tone was hard but they were still too drunk in the Charm to notice, “Well then, I will bid you goodbye and safe move. We can discuss further details later on.”
When he turned to leave, the Prince couldn’t help but meet his gaze with the Tatcher’s second girl's knowing eyes, looking at him almost as if she knew of his disposition. Perhaps she was the only one of the bunch… But unfortunately for her, Cian wasn’t in the mood to indulge her any longer.
He put her out of his mind as he strode away, touching and turning.
Cian didn’t go meet his mother. As upset as he was that she likely arranged for them to move either to the Castle or a mansion close by, he had been too close to boiling over those past few days to be able to control himself under her influence.
This whole ordeal was making being a Prince… Take a tool on him. Even more than what it usually did.
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He went instead to his private stables. The only cleaning boy he allowed in there went and left purposely on moments Cian was certain to not be there, so it was just him and his mare, Mable.
The Prince approached her, giving her a touch head in head before mounting. The Mare was a nice shade of honey brown and had clever eyes, but what he loved the most about her was that she loved to run as much as him.
Once they crossed the meagher part of the city, behind the Castle, and reached the meadow that limited the edges of the Enchanted Woods, they could, together, pretend they were free. Pretend they could run in whatever direction they wanted and that no one would have the power to stop them.
Cian felt the air running through his hair, making it come undone, and the sweat slip down his skin, no more touching and turning, no more talking, no more pressing, no more thinking and for a moment, he was nothing of a Prince. Nothing.
Eventually though, as he always did, he returned to his stables. He returned to his Castle. Returned and met his Mother the Queen, waiting at the stable for his return.
“Had a nice ride?” She opened that dazzling smile of hers.
If his hair was auburn hers were red. If his eyes were dark hers were pitch black. If he was slender, she was a willow. If he had charm she had Power. And power she showed in her every move, in every piece of her immaculate clothing even while stepping on dirt as she was.
“The most pleasant one, Mother,” he smiled as he got down to greet her.
Cian gave her a kiss on the cheek, so faint it could very well have not touched her skin.
“The Tatchers seemed very satisfied on their way out,” he said faintly as he tended his Mable.
“Weren’t they? They thought of my proposal as the most agreeable one,” Her voice, unlike one would expect a woman like her, was uncommonly deep.
“Not surprisingly so,” he said sarcastically, “Did you invite them to live on the east side of the Castle or the surrounding area?”
“Surroundings. One has to be careful about who they invite to their home,” and yet wasn’t that akin to doing so? The mansions surrounding the Castle were only habited by those of the council and their close relatives.
He couldn’t help but glare at her, no doubt an effect of her blessing acting upon him. He tried to distract himself by changing his mounting boots to his regular ones more carefully and The Queen only sighed at his reaction, approaching closer in front of him.
“What is the matter son? Wouldn’t that happen sooner or later? Regardless of what any of us want, their presence will remain. Isn’t it better if we seize their favor and seed familiarity while the soil is fertile?”
The Prince looked up from where he was seated, watching her warm eyes. She was doing it for him, she could hear it in her words. He knew that, Cian did. But he couldn’t help but resent it still.
Why so soon? Why would she decide to move their family so close to him in a matter of one meeting? He didn't even have time to talk to them personally for the Gods’ sake! He didn’t have time to adjust to any of this, and things kept on happening. First this prophecy and his upending death, then marriage, then his mother’s moving things along without asking his opinion or permission, and now those strangers closer and closer by the second to him and his personal space as if he had little turmoil to deal with at the Court and at his half-siblings behalf. Gods and Fairies above, Cian was still in the middle of a cold war with his eldest sister!
He laced his boots tightly, tightly, before meeting her stare again.
“I’d have appreciated a heads up at least,” he couldn’t help his tongue.
His mother shook her head, turning with the smoothness of someone that seemed to not touch the ground.
“You would have had one if you bothered to attend our meeting.”
He got up, walking past her, because he couldn’t help himself.
“They are merchants, Mother. Half an hour listening to their babbling and I knew I was right to question what is there to know from them. And don’t claim respect and courtesy. What respect should be held to their kind if they are incapable of giving it back?” Although annoyed, he still held her hand while helping her walk up the steps to the outer halls leading Back to the Castle, “We already know what is there to know from our agents, and whichever decisions there are left to make should be dealt with by me. I should have at least that, shouldn’t I?”
They had stopped midway, in front of each other. As the Queen waited for him to finish his complaints, he realized – a little too late – that he wasn’t saying any of that entirely out of his free will. Cian smiled bitterly when she touched his arm kindly and reassuringly.
“I understand your frustration son, I truly do,” she gestured for them to resume their walking, “But people like us don’t have the entitlement to react to things unwisely. You will have choices enough once the field is in your favor, but for us to secure that, we have to know how to compromise and swiftly do so.”
They both looked at the entrance of the Castle, slowing their pace as much as they could. Once they were inside, privacy would be compromised.
“Thought the Tatchers acted… as expected from someone of their profession, they were agreeable enough. And with sufficient patience and leading, they shared some valuable information regarding why their family was the one on a Prophecy so significant.”
The Prince squinted his eyes. Yes, they had all been wondering why such a humble family was the to save the Crown Prince’s life, but since things had been happening so fast, that was the first time Cian allowed himself to delve into it.
“What do you mean?”
“Their eldest daughter.”