The Prince's Suitor ManxMan

Chapter 9

Happy new year everyone! Sorry for taking a while to update, life has been busssy! I hope you enjoy the chapter.  And perhaps vote and comment while you're at it? ;D

All rights reserved.

Chapter Nine

"Where are we? Why are we here?" Raphion said, hand teetering towards his sword. Their Personals hung in the back, steely silence among themselves, blank hard faces. Almost as if they weren't there, yet Jaicous still noticed that Eiamus, his now supposed Personal Personal was mysteriously absent. It worried him and he questioned the possibility that Raphion had discovered their plan to meet tonight. He pushed the uneasiness from his mind. He needed to concentrate on his current plan of secretly manipulating Raphion into consuming far too much ale than practical. It would be difficult. Jaicous eyed the Personals with bristling annoyance.

"If you don't relax we'll have come here for nothing. You're too tense, someone will figure out you're...you." Jaicous scanned the prince from head to toe. His common clothing, a mixture of browns and blacks blatantly contrasted against Raphion's noble hair and skin. He did not look common, but he blended in well enough that Jaicous only hoped no one would question his looks. Hoping that those who usually would, would be far  too excessively drunk to even raise a suspicious eyebrow.

Raphion sent him a heated yet drained look but did nothing to contradict. His reaction told Jaicous he somewhat agreed.

“Alright, we can turn back.” Jaicous lifted his shoulders up and down once in an uncaring manner pretending he didn’t mind if they ventured inside or not, when really, everything was riding on it.

“No,” Raphion shot back and adjusted the hilt of his sword. The protruding hilt had a thin cloth that covered the top, tied to the base with a small leather strap to keep it firmly in place. No matter how much Jaicous had tried convincing him to leave it at the castle, the prince had had none of it. Jaicous hadn't been surprised, the prince clung to it like a babe to its mother. He'd suggested he take it upon himself, after all he liked to think himself good at hiding but that hadn't ended well. Annoyingly, the prince was so far reluctant to honour his side of the deal.

The cloth hid the elaborate detail of the sword from sight, if someone who knew even the slightest fact about the prince happened to glimpse the sword they'd be in danger of being revealed. And whether or not from that moment on they'd be in grave danger really depended on whether there was more than just the average commoner in the tavern.

“You're curious. Funny that, princeling. Do commoners amuse you?” Jaicous hit the metaphorical ball with his bat. But would the prince rise to the bait and catch it?

“My people certainly do not amuse me. You, on the other hand…” he trailed off, attention shooting to the surrounding guards. “Disband,” he ordered with a jerky nod. They needed no further command from their prince and soon the area was empty but for the two of them. Gone faster than Jaicous envisioned they could. They definitely were the best of the best. Unfortunately for him.

He knew they were still there, watching, waiting. He could feel their stares prickling on the back of his neck. Yet he could not spot them no matter where he looked, unease coiled in the pit of his stomach. You cannot defeat what you cannot see, fleeting words, once spoken by the wisest of men he’d had the pleasure to meet hung dangerously like a noose around his neck.  

Jaicous moved an inch and stared into the familiar alley a few feet away from the back of the prince and then back to The M'aria Barker Tavern. 

TPS TPS TPS TPS

After a challenging struggle of pulling the prince along and Raphion, cursing whenever a drunkard swayed too close and closed their sweaty palms on him and him lacking the common sense to duck, they finally found a free four seated table deep within the jolly crowd of strangers that often habited the tavern.