A Knight of Good Wishes
By Jewls Winter
all rights reserved
"There can be no more beauty than that which lives within your eyes," Philip said, voice sweet and wicked as spiced ale, "A single glance from your eyes, and I shall be willing to give you all and everything."
Laysh tipped his chin, violet eyes sparkling with possibility. "Fair knight, your hands are the servant of your sword, what need might a poet of little renown have to offer the hands that will one day be king."
"Your sable hair, so long that it trails through my dreams," Philip murmured, drawing his dance partner close, "Your eyes are endless twilight, as if the night were always yet to begin and dawn far distant. Share my bed. Be my beloved."
Lull softened the music, strings and wind slowing, swirling towards quiet as the dance ended. Laysh bowed with the end of the dance, long dark velvet sleeves flowed with his movement. A braid of soft brown hair slipped from his shoulder, hanging heavy towards the floor. "My Prince," Laysh said, by passing the politeness of addressing his unofficial prince as a simple knight yet. Intelligence danced in violet eyes, daring his suitor to deny what all the court already knew. "I cannot be the beloved of a man who's grace must take him far from my bed before my heart has even drawn a second breath."
Laysh stepped back, bowing yet again and a delicately beautiful, wearing the silver circlet showing her nobility. Hair of red and gold, woven around the silver and decorated with pearls. She held out her hand, fully expecting her share of respect from a knight not yet officially named prince.
Philip bowed, knee black hair brushing past a strong and gently scarred face. "Milady."
"Dance with me," she asked, but it was not a request.
It was a full song later that Philip found the long haired poet on the balcony.
"You waited for me," Philip said, the back of his hand smoothing over a soft velvet sleeve. "As I have waited for you for so long. You know that I could not approach you before. When I am announced, I shall ask you formally to be my consort. Will you accept?"
"We are boys no more," Laysh said, voice deep an serious. "With me at your side, holding power will only become more difficult."
"Without you by my side," Philip explained, his touch moving to travel the curve of Laysh's jaw, "what good I could do for people will taste to me as plain porridge and not how long I might continue as a man on such a diet. Kashire brews towards war. I need a consort who can help me nurture peace as well as one who can nurture peace within me. I am a poor man, you've known me all my life, and I would not blame you for rejecting me, but have you not waited for me? Have you not saved such secrets of your flesh and soul for me alone?"
"I have," Laysh admitted, stepping back just out of reach, "And if you announce me, I shall accept, but then you knew this already."
Philip turned, elbows on the railing. He grinned, wicked contentment showing on his face. "I did. I knew you won't share my bed early, but you knew I'd try."
"Of course, my prince," Laysh said, backing away until the shadows swallowed him.
Philip leaned back, looking at a sky with two few stars. He could wait. One more day.