Zayn breathed calmly as he practised, expertly, with his sword. The satisfaction he'd felt from watching his father swell up in anger when he heard the people had been given food the day before by an unknown man was still fresh in his mind. But he knew 'twas not that satisfaction that had kept him half awake throughout the night - even if he tried to convince himself otherwise. He had never known a woman to be so hard-edged and voraciously appealing at the same time.
"Myra." He muttered the name slowly as if to savour its sweetness. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.
"Is everything alright, Milord?" Zayn looked to his side abruptly and to find Brien with some dry towels. "Aye Brien, all is fine with me."
"Are ye sure Milord? I've been standing here for quite a while now without yer notice. Ye looked deeply preoccupied with yer thoughts."
" 'tis naught." Zayn said, drove his sword into its sheathe and accepted a towel. His bare body glistened with sweat which plastered his fine sprinkling of auburn chest hair against his smooth, broad chest and slowly glided down to his tight breeches.
He stared at Brien with a complicated look. "I need your help Brien."
"With what, Milord?" Brien straightened and his face wore a serious frown, his thoughts flying about recklessly.
"I need clothes." Zayn.
Brien just stood staring as if to ask 'what great doom had occurred and how mere clothes could solve it.' "Is that all, Milord?" He asked carefully after the realization that the prince was not going to provide an answer to his questioning stare.
"Well yes." Zayn answered, hands thrown up in the air to cover his mild embarrassment. He'd have handled this himself but the last set he wore was provided by Brien and was currently unfit to wear again. He couldn't go to her garbed in his princely attire as that would expose him and neither could he possibly go stealing a servant's clothes now could he?
"Is that all, Milord?" When Zayn nodded, Brien stared for a while more for confirmation of his seriousness before bursting into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
He gasped as he managed to stifle his laughter and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Ye had me thinking you were in a quagmire of problems Milord. Ye looked so stricken I feared for my life" He straightened. " If ye needed clothes all ye needed to do was command that the Royal carriage be prepared and in no time we'd be storming the fabric stores for---"
"I do not speak of Royal Regalia or anything of the fancy sort, Brien." Zayn said impatiently.
"Ye do not?" Brien asked, his countenance bearing a serious look once more.
" Not at all." He answered with a pinched expression.
"What then do ye speak of?"
"Well I need...servant's clothing." Zayn spoke up begrudgingly, like a child denied of sweets.
"But what do ye need them for, Milord?" Brien gasped loudly, hand at his chest, expression every bit dismayed. "Do ye plan on sneaking out to give food to the people once more? I understand yer compassion for the people, believe me I do but if ye keep taking such bold risks then ye might get caught and I fear for what the king will to to ye. If the people should lose the little support they get from ye completely, then I'm afr-"
"Do you think me an idiot?" Zayn cut in testily, with a quick look around the empty training grounds. "'tis a private issue, Brien. Withhold your questions and just have them delivered to my chambers and make sure no one either sees or hears of it."
YOU ARE READING
Fate's Woven Thread
Fantasy[ONGOING] || Featured on wattpad Romantasy reading list || At a young age, Myra lost everything she considered dear to her -her family, kingdom and people- due to a betrayal from someone who was trusted and held dear by her family. Although sh...
