Her Rightful Place

18: The Hunt

"Ah, the Palace of Roses. It has been too long since last we came here," the Duke of Pelanshire remarks casually as he and the Prince ride into view of the palace. Xavier glances at the sky and sighs heavily.

"Jerôme, we are too early. 'Tis not quite dusk. We cannot go to the palace now. We are to wait until tomorrow morning, at least," he grumbles wearily.

"Well, you certainly did not seem to take that into consideration when we left before noon and cantered most of the way, now did you? Fortunately for you I decided to bring Enzo along." Jerôme reaches down from his horse to pat his hunting dog on the head. "We should see if we can catch ourselves some supper before we check into an inn for the night."

"I like the way you think."

"I would hope so, else I would be puzzled as to why you would willingly associate yourself with me. Shall we be off then?"

"Indeed we shall." Jerôme releases Enzo from his tether and the dark mottled dog dashes towards the woods, having already found the trail of some unfortunate woodland creature. Both men spur their horses to follow Enzo and the horses take off, as eager for the excitement as their masters. Though neither would ever admit it, both young men are equally eager for a distraction from their thoughts of two beautiful young ladies. Of course, the announcement from the Palace of Roses proved that at least Mireille is safely within the palace walls and restored to her family, but the Duke in particular wants to know so much more, especially that which concerns Mireille's blonde spitfire companion.

Enzo's deep barks announce the cornering of their quarry and the young noblemen charge into a rocky clearing to find the dog in a standoff with a stag. Xavier takes his bow from his shoulder and fires an arrow into the stag's chest before it can react to their presence. The magnificent buck collapses and Enzo takes this as a cue to rip its throat out. Jerôme chuckles slightly as he dismounts and calls his dog. Enzo, interpreting this as an offer of tastier food, drops the stag's mangled neck and trots up to Jerôme with a proud demeanor, then sits regally at his master's feet. Xavier rolls his eyes as the Duke scratches his pet fondly behind the ears.

"You two are like twins. Both with a natural noble sensibility, both practical and no-nonsense when it comes to business, and both love to be the center of attention, particularly where ladies are concerned," the Prince snorts.

"Well, it takes one to know one, Your Highness. You are easily as regal and practical as we are," Jerôme points out as he slips Enzo a morsel of jerky as a reward for his services. "And last time I checked, you only cared for the attentions of one lady."

"Whatever do you mean? I have never--"

"You think I did not see the real reason for this journey? You never agree so readily to anything your mother suggests, and you certainly never offer to go above and beyond her expectations, yet here we are, supposedly to reopen marriage and treaty negotiations with Vyrunia now that their Princess has returned. And as I recall, you and I are largely responsible for her return. You fancy her, you do."

"And what if I do? You are just as eager to see her blonde friend, if not more so." The Duke colors slightly at this accusation but otherwise maintains his composure.

"Where would you get a daft idea like that?"

"I am no more blind than you are, Jerôme. I saw the way you looked at her, the way you disappeared not long after she did, the way you looked slightly disheveled when you came back, and the way you did not protest at all when I asked you to come with me here, even though I usually leave you in charge of my affairs at home when I go on errands for my mother."

"Indeed, it is most unusual that you would ask me to accompany you twice in so short a time." The young men work together to get the stag slung over the Prince's saddle to take back to the village; Xavier prefers to walk when opportunities like these arise because he gets restless from riding for too long, although protocol would dictate that the Duke should have to walk instead. For his part, the Duke rather enjoys being treated as the Prince.

"The first time it was because I did not wish to have to abide by the standard protocol for such a visitation as that one was to be."

"I am still unsure as to why you would feel that way when you had not yet met the girl." Jerôme re-tethers Enzo and swings easily into his saddle and he and Xavier head back towards the village where they will be spending the night.

"From the information we had about her, I knew her age and her importance to the village, at least. I just had a bad feeling about taking half a dozen Royal Guards with me on that particular mission."

"And this time?"

"Why, I asked you along as a favor to you, of course. The least I could do is give you an opportunity to see Christelle again." The Duke rolls his eyes.

"You read far too much into things, Xavier. Just because she is attractive does not mean--"

"If you were only attracted to her looks you would have pursued Mireille, as well."

"You think me so disloyal as that? You had already expressed a hint of an attraction to that lady before I had even a chance to meet her. She has always been off-limits to me, and I find her less attractive than the other, besides."

"I must confess my opinion quite differs from yours."

"That does not surprise me. I have always found blondes more attractive than others, whereas you tend to prefer brunettes."

"And do you intend to try to find her while I speak with King Christophe and Queen Généviève?"

"I expect I shall not have to, for you will try to have an audience with the Princess, and if she is any sort of loyal friend, Christelle is most certainly in her service as nothing less than her Lady of Honour. As such, Christelle will likely be present for a meeting between you and the Princess as a chaperone, and I would be more than willing to distract her for you, should you wish it."

"I cannot endorse such offers, but I certainly shall not stand in your way, should you choose that course of action."

"Your wish is my command."