HOWL

13

"We are silhouettes, hollow phantoms moving mistily without a background"

    -Virginia Woolf |The Waves

The King beckoned to him and Leondre had no choice but to obey not just because he was his Father but out of respect for him being the King. He silently followed his Father's trail which led to a private room that was forbidden for anyone to enter except his Royal highness.
The few that entered the room only did because of the King's sceptre being drawn towards them which meant a summon.

The room had a fresh scent of dewy morning leaves though it was almost evening. The King took a seat and gestured for Leondre to do the same in the opposite chair.
He had no idea that his Father was watching his every move, scrutinizing him as he noticed the exhaustion in his muscles, the way his side lips twitched and the movement of his fingers against one another.

He knew Leondre wasn't scared of him like the others, he just didn't want to be in the same place as him and that alone made him smirk,"You were at the training grounds?"
I

t felt more like a statement made out of vivid observation than a question.

"Yes I was" His reply had no life in it, more like a question and answer stuff done between a tutor and his student.

A servant came in carrying a tray with a bottle of wine that had intricate designs all around it which looked mosaic and two cups, he quietly placed it on the table then hurriedly left after having noticed the mood in the room. If a pin dropped right there it would be heard and as such it felt intimidating for the poor servant.

"You met Reuel?"

"Yes I did" Leondre knew the conversation wasn't about Reuel or the training grounds, it was about him.

"Did he tell you anything?"

"Like what?" Leondre tried to feign ignorance, he knew where his Father was heading to. He had guessed it from the minute that he followed him into the room.

The King smirked reaching for the bottle of wine then proceeded to pour for himself some into one of the small cups and did the same for Leondre's.

He held the cup in his hand and brought it to his lips, as he met Leondre's calm gaze he took everything in. The smirk appeared on his face again and he poured another one for himself but this time didn't touch it. Leondre had mastered the act of calmness in his presence that he could hardly tell if he was lying or not.
Neither his heartbeat nor his demeanor could give him away.

Leondre didn't need to be told that he was supposed to drink as he reached for his cup holding it to his lips. The smell of freshly brewed wine wafted into his nostrils and he could only imagine how good it would taste in his mouth.

He tilted the cup and the contents spewed in like a dam; broken and allowed to cascade down the steep rocks and elevated mounds.
His taste buds attested to the  brewer's calm and collected work put in to get the wine to its finished process which was ready for consumption. The wine was good and he could only give nothing but accolades to it.

"The wine came in this morning, fresh isn't it?" His Father broke the silence that had pervaded the room stealing its bubbly mood. He had knowingly changed the subject but had intentions of bringing it back. Maybe if he talked about something else, it could get his son to be much willing to converse with him.

"It is"
Leondre once again didn't show an interest in the conversation, he didn't even say much about the wine. He knew it was good but he didn't want to dwell much on the subject.