𝒱𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝐿𝒶 𝑅é𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓊𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 || Wilbur Soot

02 - Welcomes and Congratulations

The glint of the castle could be seen from horse-back as you trotted through the villages. Wilbur kept in-pace next to you, waving at small children clamoring for his attention. Seeing him smile again lifted your spirits; You hadn't had a chance to talk to him since everyone left the field.

He had been, for lack of a better term, ignoring you since sundown on the battlefield. When you had chased after him and tried to talk with him, he just told you he was fine and there was no further conversation. Maybe, once you reached the palace and he sorted through his thoughts, he would come back to you.

The townspeople were cheering at your arrival. Although it was uncertain when your battalion would be returning, they all had prepared to watch the palace guards march through their town after victory. Many of them were making faces at the small groups of rebels sprinkled through your march; some went as far as to try and throw things at them.

You spotted a few boys and girls waving wooden swords around with glee. You smiled softly, remembering when Clay and yourself used to be that young.

Even as a child, Clay was rambunctious and hyper-active. You were raised as though you were siblings instead of cousins and always found the two of you getting into trouble. Elaborate plans were always devised by you, then Clay and his two best friends, Nick and George, would act out on them. It almost always ended with you all getting caught, but those fun times around the palace were worth it.

Now, Clay was a king and the two trouble makers were his appointed knights.

It's crazy how fast time flies.

You focused back on the villagers, smiling and waving as your troops passed by. The castle on the horizon was closer now and you looked to your left over at Wilbur. He had a set smile on his face and the glint of the sun gave his brown hair a small glow effect. You grinned softly and looked away before he could catch you staring.

The people around you continued to cheer and yell praise until you got to the end of the village.

The announcer musicians started playing as the troops approached. Your horse walked forward just farther than the others. Many of the soldiers had ridden off, escorting the rebels to the prisons. Wilbur was the only troop left who stayed beside you.

Essemp's flags rolled of the front balcony in your arrival. You looked up at the overhead and saw three standing figures. Two of them were knights in royal gear. They looked briefly down at you before you switched your gaze to the figure in the middle.

A milky-white mask hid his face from view. Clay's late-father used to wear the same mask as some form of tradition, thus causing his successor to inherit it with the throne. You always found the mask unsettling, with it being pure white, an inky abyss as eye-holes and the painted-on smile. When you were children you always proclaimed your dislike of the mask, so Clay decided to take matters into his own hands and inked the smile on. His efforts didn't really help, and instead made you more terrified of the thing.

But you had since grown out of the irrational fear and made peace with the inner demons that haunted the mask.

You gave a small smile up at Clay before he turned around and walked back into the palace. The two knights, Nick and George, followed behind him and the glass doors closed. Once the announcers had finished playing their music, Wilbur dismounted his steed and walked over to you.

"M'lady," He lent out his hand and gave a slight bow, a smile dancing across his lips.

"My liege," You playfully rolled your eyes and accepted his hand. Once you were on the ground he stepped back and did a mock-salute. You suppressed a laugh and starting waking towards the grand gates the closed off the castle. Intricate gold designs wove through the door's face, mimicking the look of leafy vines in a swamp. People working in the front gardens opened the gates and the caretakers escorted your horses to the stables.