Gradually, Mark's body recovers and gets stronger. When Seán is dealing with business in the throne room, the prince spends time in the stable with Ethan or in the yard with Grá and Belle. Belle reminds him of his mother, but surprisingly, it doesn't fill his chest with an awful, hollow feeling anymore. Instead, he's reminded of all the happy times he had with his mother and is filled with comfort when he remembers that she's with her husband and eldest son again. Of course he still misses her, but at least it's not a weight on his shoulders anymore.
Grá nuzzles the side of his head and he reaches up, stroking her nose absentmindedly. Belle approaches his other side, whinnying softly.
"Hey girls," he says softly. He walks towards the nearby bench and the horses follow, their tails whipping back and forth as he sits down. He kicks his feet back and forth in the grass, tracing a finger along the scar on his chest. It doesn't hurt to breathe anymore, but there are still sensitive spots that he can't seem to ignore. If he thinks about it too much, he sinks into a bad place that's really hard to get out of.
He looks up to see Seán striding across the grass towards him. Mark smiles lightly and pats the seat beside him, which the king gladly takes.
"Hey there," Mark greets.
"Hey," Seán replies. Grá sniffs his hair and he jumps, making the prince laugh faintly. The king glances at him for a moment before looking up at the horse. "Is this Grá? The horse I named?"
"Yes." Mark exhales a little. "You never did tell me what grá means in English."
"Royal secret," Seán says with a grin.
"I am a royal, you jerk."
Seán laughs and lowers his hand to Mark's. The prince's breath hitches in his throat, but returns to normal after locking eyes with Seán.
"I'm sorry," Mark whispers. "It's just... my stupid brain still expects a blow."
"It's okay. You still need time to heal," Seán replies. "I understand."
Mark moves closer to the king, a small smile finding its way onto his face. "Thank you."
Seán squeezes his hand gently. "You called me out here. Was there anything you wanted to talk about in particular or did you just want me to take a break?"
The prince's mouth falls open slightly at remembrance. "Oh, right! I want to continue our magic lessons. If I'm ever going to reclaim my kingdom, I need to be better at controlling my magic." His eyes harden slightly and he clenches his jaw. "I want to be able to protect myself."
Seán inhales sharply. "Reclaiming Rubellus? Now? Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you're still recovering..."
"Seán, those men that... that-" Mark shakes his head, his fingers tightening around the king's hand. "They were sent by the conqueror. It didn't just happen."
Oh. Oh. Seán has to do everything in his power to keep his jaw from falling slack. Mark never told him what happened between his kidnapping and his rescue. It was a subject they danced around, afraid to touch for fear of getting burned.
"Oh God," the king whispers. "Mark..."
"They were going to bring me to him so that he could k-kill..." The prince trails off, his eyes growing distant. He exhales shakily and runs his fingers through his hair. "Me himself."
Seán covers his mouth with the hand not clenched in the prince's. "I'm so sorry."
"I want to take my kingdom back. That man does not deserve my throne."
Seán sighs heavily, his gut wrenching. If Mark leaves, there are two possibilities; he either dies in battle or wins, takes his throne, and leaves Viride and Seán forever. The king glances at the sky, which is alight with vibrant oranges and pinks due to the setting sun.
"We should head back inside."
Mark eyes him for a moment, saying nothing as he gets to his feet. He helps Seán up before looking at the horses. The smallest of smiles graces his face. "I need to put Belle and Grá back in their stalls. Wait here, okay?"
The king nods and Mark heads off, clicking his tongue and getting the horses to follow him. Seán watches, smiling lightly as Mark runs his hand down Belle's neck and whispers softly to both animals. They nicker in response to his gentle murmurs, making him grin. He ushers them into the stable before turning back and rejoining Seán, who does his best to wipe the stupid smile off his face.
"You're good with horses," the king says, taking Mark's hand.
"I was a farmer before I was a prince, Seán," Mark replies. "It's in my blood."
"I can see that."
Mark's eyes twinkle as he lifts Seán's hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. The king turns crimson, holding Mark's hand a little bit tighter. Despite the happiness, an undertone of severity resides in his deep brown eyes. He's still determined to return to Rubellus.
Seán will do everything in his power to avoid the topic altogether.