A Tale From Lanoria: The Princess of Barough

Chapter 11: The Prince of Winter Haven

She didn't want to think about what others thought of her. She was quiet, thinking over all his words. They felt empty to her, almost practiced. When she was with Donovan, it felt more natural. Was Tyir always like this? She thought to herself.

"That must get tiresome. Are they not considering you? I know you are the youngest, but that does not mean you would not make a good King of Winter Haven," she said. Tyir stopped in his tracks and turned to face Oriana.

"I do not wish to be King of Winter Haven, my dear Oriana. It would mean leaving you behind. I would rather sit next to you on the throne of Barough and abandon my family's heritage. It would be worth it if it meant being with you. We could rule side by side as we help our kingdom grow strong. As equal partners, your kindness and my cunning could pave the way for a new kingdom. That is my wish for the future," Tyir replied.

Oriana still blushed at his words and put her hands over her cheeks. That was one thing the two men had in common: they were both bold. "Oh my, such kind words. It is a lovely vision of the future." It was exactly what her father wanted.

"I only have kind and beautiful words for you, dear Oriana,'' Tyir replied, as they came to a stop.

"Everyone has certainly been excited that you've been here," Oriana said softly. By now, Tyir noticed Oriana's flushed face and knew it was time for him to make a move.

Tyir put his hand on Oriana's cheek and replied, "I only care if you're excited. That makes me happy. Everyone else doesn't matter." 

His hand remained on her cheek as he began to gently rub his thumb on Oriana's plush lips. It made her face even redder, and she stepped back only to bump into a railing behind her. 

"I really do love you, Oriana. You do not have to reply today, but I just want you to know how I feel. Would you do me the honor of letting me have a kiss from you?" The prince asked.

"O-oh my, it's really not appropriate. Perhaps another time. I think perhaps it's best if we keep our relationship friendly for the moment. You know, with all the chaos happening, it would be my first kiss after all," she told him.

"You do not have to be bashful, Princess. There is no one around. It's just a little kiss, one for us to steal the moment away for ourselves. I assure you, it will be very friendly." Tyir replied to her. Putting his hand on her chin, he made her look up into his eyes.

"Would you like a peach? I can fetch one for you," she tried to offer instead, her voice nothing but a whisper. That nervous feeling of being trapped rattled through her, as the prince was only a few inches away.

"I am certain your lips taste sweeter than any fruit Terra herself would offer me, Oriana," Tyir replied, thinking he would rather have a taste of Oriana than anything the Goddess of the Land would offer him. Tyir leaned in to kiss her, his eyes shut in anticipation. Gently pressing his lips against hers, Tyir gave Oriana a sweet kiss.

That was when he could feel the princess's lips parting for him. Happily accepting her invitation, he pushed his tongue through her lips, only to feel cold air rushing over his tongue, as if he were licking air. That made him open his eyes. He jumped back in surprise as he looked at the sight before him. It seemed an orange barrier in the shape of Oriana's face had been put in the princess' place. Oriana herself was standing to the right, a hand over her mouth and her face scarlet.

Lying on his left side on the castle wall above them, Donovan watched the duo. His head rested on one hand while he ate a turkey leg with the other. "I believe the princess said 'another time'. So, you will have to take that tongue of yours elsewhere, little man." Donovan said, with a mouthful. Yet somehow, he managed to keep food from falling out of his mouth. The prince's face was now red, painted with rage and embarrassment.

"Little man!? How dare you! I am the Prince of Winter Haven! You are nothing but a peasant! Oriana, you need to punish this heathen!" Tyir yelled, glaring up at Donovan. Looking up as well, Oriana was very happy and relieved to see Donovan.

"For what? She said no, and I protected her from your tongue." Donovan replied.

"Oriana does not need to be protected from my tongue! Especially by the likes of you!" Tyir shouted back.

Oriana decided to speak up "Perhaps it's best we simply head inside Prince Tyir. A glass of wine will no doubt soothe everyone's spirits," she offered, attempting to smooth the situation again.

"I don't mind going inside and getting something to drink. As long as it is with you, Princess Oriana." Tyir spat.

"I am guessing dinner is nearly ready?" she asked Donovan, happy to switch the subject to avoid further anger. The look in her eyes was certainly one of relief that he was there.

"Well, it was ready until I ate it. You should have seen how mad Killian was! I had to basically wrestle the turkey away from him. He said something about a romantic dinner for you two?" Donovan replied.

"I imagine he was mad," she said, giggling at Donovan. Tyir furrowed his brows at the giggling, he didn't like it.

Oriana turned her attention back to Tyir, and the prince smiled, but it didn't last but a second. Donovan had gotten down from the wall. "Oriana, your lipstick is a bit smeared. I don't know what happened, but I will fix it for you."

Donovan stood before her, not intending to block the prince's view. He left plenty of room for Tyir to see. His large, strong hand covered the whole side of Oriana's face as his thumb went over her lips gently. The mage's magic fixed the bit of smeared lipstick on her face, while a blush spread across the princess' cheeks.

"Now you look just as good as you did this morning." Donovan said before giving Oriana a wink, which had the Princess looking away shyly.

Their entire interaction had Tyir fuming! His own face was red as he watched Donovan put his hands on Oriana. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Oriana had beat him to it. "Thank you for fixing my makeup," she told him as she gently touched his hand.

"You're welcome, princess. Now why don't you go attend to Tyir over there? He doesn't seem to be having a good time." Donovan said.

That made Tyir speak up and say, "That is Prince Tyir to you!"

That had Donovan turning to face him before saying, "I will call you what I want to. Don't let it get to you, though; it makes you seem emotional."

Tyir glowered at him before saying, "Emotion isn't a weakness outside of Medeis!"

Without missing a beat, Donovan replied, "Yes, but surely you're weak both inside and outside of Medeis."

"How dare you, you bumbling heathen!!" Tyir roared, reaching for the sword attached to his hip.

Oriana quickly went to the fuming prince's side and gently tugged on his left hand. His hand was firmly gripping the scabbard of his sword. The blade had come out a few inches already. 

"Come, let us head inside. I suspect we have a few minutes before dinner is finished again. I would love to show you the crown they've prepared for me when I am officially a queen,'' she told Tyir, knowing this would get his attention. She knew it would not end well for anyone if Tyir raised his blade to attack her mage.

"Yes, Oriana, that sounds wonderful. I would love to see your crown. Anything would be better than spending another moment with this orc peasant." Tyir growled before furiously pushing the sword back into his scabbard.

Putting his nose up in the air at Donovan, he walked away with Oriana by his side. The mage only gave the prince a playful wink, which seemed to infuriate him more. Even as she put her arm into the prince's, she looked back at Donovan for a moment. She gave her courtmage an apologetic look before continuing with Tyir into the castle. There was a subtle pleading gaze not to be left alone. Donovan gave Oriana a nod to let her know he would be watching over her.