Brandon - The Princess

The pattering sound of falling feet walking down the northern stretch of the hall echoing through the wide corridors of the palace informed of a studious presence. The deliberateness of each foot fall, a rhythm almost melodic tune of the sound was that which belonged to one who seemed to have studied the art of walking in such an environment without disturbing the occupants of the abode. He continued his march, light feet and suave with a disposition of a control.

The echo of his steps travelled far and made similar vibrations down the stretch. Maid servants and man servants walked sluggishly so that they were banned from walking the northern corridor of the palace during the mornings unless the king was up. Soldiers were only allowed through the northern corridor in cases of extreme emergency and it had been years since even they had walked the corridor.

King Leonard had a reign which fate had favoured than most in the history of the kingdom and all he shared with his people was the highest benevolence any one man, king or commoner, could offer such a vast land of prosperous land owners and hard-working peasants which he governed and this benevolence manifested in his listening ear and an impartial mind.

The king's room true to the personage which it housed was one which betrayed its occupants opulence in small details. King Leonard did fancy the position of his rulership with an equitable mind. The poor peasant was not to be intimidated by his presence or there could be no justice in the land because it would make his office unapproachable; the rich was to be perceptive of this opulence hence there would be no regard for his position. The design was one which maintained the balance between small sybaritism and rugged consciousness; the king unwilling to indulge in too much material luxuries. There was only one treasure King Leonard cherished above all the treasures of the earth; his daughter, the princess Alice.

The owner of the pattering feet wrapped his hand into a ball, a rather pudgy feature, and dropped it on the magnificent wooden door in a tripartite knock. He stood back and studied the door as though it was the first time he would read meaning into the inscriptions which had been made on itthe aesthetic which very few had ever seen; a beast, a lion with multiple heads, which was the mark of King Leonard seat and authority.

No noise came from within and the only noise he heard was that of the shuffling of iron against the granite floor made by the guards who stood by the door which led to the entrance itself.

He braced himself, readying his hand for another knock, drawing in light breaths. The guards produced the noise still, subconsciously but it travelled far into the corridor. He stared down and saw no one.

The post was never empty and none of the four guards ever left unless another had come to replace him. Elliot, for that was the name of the chief servant of the King, was a man who knew much more details of the king's household than most of the knights of the kingdom did.

He eased forward again, numbering the stutter of his bated breath and sieving the silent air to make for more sensitivity his aural senses for even the tiniest noise the king might make of been awoken.

He heard nothing.

He raised his hand again and before they dropped, the king as though he was some magician that had sniffed the purpose behind the door and had waited for a deliberate moment called on him.

"You may come in, Elliot"

It was the voice of his king , Elliot suffered a small nervousness. No matter how long he had stood in the presence of the King and no matter the familiarity that passed between them both, Elliot could not bring himself to think any less of the King than the fact that even he himself was a man whose very voice commanded the hair on his skin to stand still.

In the tradition of an dutiful servant appreciative of his position, Elliot adjusted the coat he had about his body, a fine tailored coat which intimated all who looked at him with the reality of his dignified station as the chief of all servants of the palace. Even he was Lord over some portion of the King's household, he thought.

Elliot appropriated his trousers to the region around his waist which made his belly look better tucked in and held his breath a few more times to still himself. He put his nose in the air and strutted with imperial conditioning towards the door and pushed it open.

The room was cast in a dark atmosphere but the radiance of the King's bed side was still visible. Elliot's feet could navigate all the chores he carried on in the room even with his eyes closed. It was a duty he had carried on for years so that his hands could mechanically navigate every bit of his business with experienced dexterity.

He moved to the King's bed and caught the figure of the King still grumbling in his sleep trying to shake off grasping hands of the oncoming day which snatched the last patches sleep from his eyes. Elliot stood still, unwilling to disturb the process.

This endured for a few more moments and then it finally stopped. The King was awake.

"Good morning, your majesty" Elliot saluted and made obeisance that he was sure the king would not be able to notice in the darkness but it was a part of tradition that did not come from the belly of a sycophant but an instinctive reaction.

Elliot was a willing servant of the kingdom and by extension a living servant of the King and he never imagined himself any differently.

"Elliot" the king responded, and yawned. He lent his body the much needed stretch he felt it needed and in all this Elliot waited.

"May I pull the curtains back, your majesty?" Elliot asked softly, already willing his feet to dispatch the duty if he was answered affirmatively.

The king grunted, blowing out gusts of air from his mouth and laying still to familiarize himself with the new day before he would arise for the day.

Elliot moved a few paces and reached for a mechanical device which helped pull apart the heavy curtains. A cool morning air rushed in through the splitting space and the ball of the sun which was already making its way on the journey from the Eastern horizon emitted no heat as it did light up the sky above. The surrounding sky was a dull gray and only the sun stood like a solid unflickering flame in the sky.

"Coffee, your majesty?"

"Yes, Elliot" the king replied.

Elliot's feet were as swift as that of a prey pursued by a crazed predator but he only walked. He maintained the grace and it was that which perhaps still kept him on the job. The king sat up as Elliot's feet were out of the door but he did not leave the bed.

Breakfast with Alice after coffee. The King made the instant mental note to himself.