The Wrong Man

Perhaps He is a Great Man

Donté sat on his horse and watched her for a moment after she left. What a strange young woman. He had been taken aback when he had seen her, laying against her horse in the middle of the forest. What had she been doing to get stranded in such a way, he wondered. She seemed, as all women did, absolutely terrified of him. His reputation proceeded him and he liked it that way. But something about her delicate features, contorted into an expression of terror left him feeling unsettled.

He thought about her as he rode back to the stables. He was glad he had found her before another man. She was a plump woman, with long, dark hair and fair skin. He did not typically regard females in much detail, but he thought the way she moved her hands and her eyes grew wide was very interesting. He was sure any other man would think she was very beautiful, but he had never had good taste in women.

He found the leader of the stables.
"There was a horse found lame out in the forest. You will need to retrieve it." He informed him.
"Lady Penelope's horse?!" The man cried out and he let out a long, relieved exhale.
"I am so glad. I would not know how to break the news to the Lady if her horse was gone."

Donté was filled with confusion. Lady Penelope's horse? But the girl riding the horse was only a maid. Perhaps the Lady had asked her girl to go on an errand for her. He knew that these Noble women could be pretentious and lazy, so it did not surprise him for her to act in such a way. But the girl, she was not like other girls he had seen.

He disregarded the thought as he returned to his station and decided he should think of it no longer.

—

Penelope sat with her cousin and sighed.
"I went to the Magic Man, but then this big scary knight came out of nowhere. Do you think the magic could have worked on him?" She asked her friend: Beatrice and she shook her head, the decoration on her hair pins flying around her face.
"He was no great man, I am sure of it. We must secure a meeting with the Prince and I have just the thing." She concocted the plan.

Penelope felt very silly walking past the Prince's room with her head down for many minutes. But, her apprehension was erased when she bumped into a man and looked down? to see the Crown Prince.

He was not how she had imagined at all. He was far shorter than her, which seemed strange to her as she was already regarded as a short woman. His hair was blonde and fell in ringlets and his face was covered in scars from some infantile illness. He looked nothing like the portrait her father had shown to her. But she supposed that made sense, how would he find a wife if they had been truthful?

She could not believe she was thinking such thoughts when she had just risked her life to go and find a spell to make this man fall in love with her. She shook her head slightly to right herself and bowed her head.
"I apologise, I was not looking where I was going." She told him in a soft tone."Right you are. You should pay more attention. I am the Crown Prince you know!" His shrill voice snapped at her and she had to actively remind herself not to physically recoil.
"I'm sorry, your highness." She bowed her head.
"Who are you?" He demanded and she told him her name and rank.
"I met your sister once before. Far prettier than you, I'd say." He told her and she felt her mouth fall agape at his attack.
"You are right, your highness. My sister is a very beautiful woman." She told him and he huffed, before walking past her, off down the corridor.

So much for regarding her with intent. Although, when she thought of the wording, intent did not necessarily mean positive intent. Perhaps he had regarded her with quizzical intent. Whatever the case, she placed her palms over her eyes and shook her head.

—

Donté sat in the eating hall and huffed. He could not decide which he hated more: dining with the other knights, or dining with the Prince. As the leader of the guard, he was sometimes invited to special occasions, but the rest of the time, he was with his brethren.