She was born Princess Gwenwyn Helena Anannet Egger, first-born child of the Great King Heralf, ruler of the Militant Kingdom of Rramnon. Shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Gwenwyn's father sent her to the Trade Kingdom, Terrafeuw, with a very spe...
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Chapter 9 - Agitation
~~~Sixteen Days Later
It was nearly dawn.
The faint glow of light coming through the window informed her of that. It meant that she had been awake for most of the night.
Pacing.
As Gwenwyn continued walking from one end of the room to the other, her eyes fell to the barely ruffled bed. It appeared inviting, but sleep hadn't come easily to her in many nights.
Princess Gwenwyn had hoped that she was more resilient than that.
Back in Rramnon, she had the patience to wait until each new moon, before she ran.
Now, the itch to feel the dirt beneath her feet and the ache of exertion in her chest tormented her from the moment the sun went down each night, until it rose again each morning.
Her hand brushed lightly against the fabric that draped around a window frame. She looked at her hand with a spiteful distaste as the image of his cloth covered face flashed in the back of her head.
'Stop it.' She said to herself.
It was becoming pathetic how the simplest instances reminded her of him, of Flint.
She hadn't heard any mention of a guard named Flint. Then again, she also hadn't asked around for information about him. Gwenwyn had a sneaking suspension that he hadn't expected to tell her his name. His reaction had certainly hinted towards that possibility.
Was it possible that Flint was his first name?
She wanted to hope so but she also hoped that it meant nothing what so ever.
Who was she to deserve his first name?
Who was he to trust her with it?
Still, as ironic as it was to admit, Flint had sparked something inside of her. She had felt it the instance that she grabbed his hand, and again when he caught her wrist. It coursed through her and all but begged her to step closer to him, to be closer to him.
That feeling was dangerous.
It clawed at her and made her want to run out to the trail each night to see if maybe, just maybe, he hadn't listened when she promised to never return. If maybe, just maybe, he'd be there waiting.
'Stop it, Gwenwyn.' She told herself as her feet stopped pacing abruptly. 'It does you no good to think that way.'
Her mind turned forcefully towards King Griggory and the extravagance that he had introduced her to over the last sixteen days. There were still three days left until the negotiations ended and the Tournament of Wills began. Two days ago, he had requested her presence at the Champion's Ball.
He had requested that she be his personal guest, and allow him the honor of the night's first dance.
The ball was still several days away, but she had excepted graciously and told Mryah to send word back to her father and inform them that she had been intreated upon, by King Griggory, to remain in Terrafeuw in celebration following the Tournament of Wills.
