Post by Tristan Deschênes on Oct 30, 2014 20:10:39 GMT -5
Once Tristan left Mariette on the balcony, the man's mind literally began to fly with the plethora of possibilities. He had promised her to show her the interesting and enjoyable portions of Vanderhall, but when he actually tried to think of them, the mind went blank! Surely there was something that princess would want to see, but what? What would she enjoy? Would she rather see the variety of architecture? Would she rather see the variety of shops in the marketplace? Would she rather see art? Gardens?
Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear! What was he going to do?!
The rest of the day was something of a blur as he went about his duties. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to complete them, but he was ever thoughtful on the angelic princess. Indeed, the thoughts of where to take her went on into the night, past dinner and during his down period. The only way he could think of something was to write poetry. Such an act was completed in total secrecy. He had no wish for his fellow knights to realize that he was a poet. It was not so much that he was ashamed of the art, but rather, he was uncertain of his own skill. Should his brother and sister knights discover his hobby, as he put it, they would likely ask to see or hear his work.
That was simply unacceptable. Writing the poetry, however, seemed to put him at ease. An idea had come to him.
The following morning, Tristan awoke, went through his exercise routine, bathed, dressed and consumed breakfast. The knight was precisely on time to arrive before the other royals had awoken, and indeed, before his fellow knights were on duty. The trick was waking up a full hour earlier! Upon reaching her door, he tucked idly at his outfit. Instead of the garb of the typical Royal Guardsman, he wore the doublet and pants of a lord. He went with a deep red and black color scheme. He did not eschew a weapon, fortunately.
The knight gently knocked on the door. Was the Princess ready?
Mariette Deveraux
Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear! What was he going to do?!
The rest of the day was something of a blur as he went about his duties. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to complete them, but he was ever thoughtful on the angelic princess. Indeed, the thoughts of where to take her went on into the night, past dinner and during his down period. The only way he could think of something was to write poetry. Such an act was completed in total secrecy. He had no wish for his fellow knights to realize that he was a poet. It was not so much that he was ashamed of the art, but rather, he was uncertain of his own skill. Should his brother and sister knights discover his hobby, as he put it, they would likely ask to see or hear his work.
That was simply unacceptable. Writing the poetry, however, seemed to put him at ease. An idea had come to him.
The following morning, Tristan awoke, went through his exercise routine, bathed, dressed and consumed breakfast. The knight was precisely on time to arrive before the other royals had awoken, and indeed, before his fellow knights were on duty. The trick was waking up a full hour earlier! Upon reaching her door, he tucked idly at his outfit. Instead of the garb of the typical Royal Guardsman, he wore the doublet and pants of a lord. He went with a deep red and black color scheme. He did not eschew a weapon, fortunately.
The knight gently knocked on the door. Was the Princess ready?
Mariette Deveraux