(Another SAT vocab story)

“You’re such a ruffian, child!  Always fighting my men!  They are doing their job, and you should be doing yours!  You are a Princess, not a guard or a knight!” the King bellowed.  Sometimes, I just wonder if he is trying to instigate me so I hit him.  Then he’d have a legitimate excuse to dispose of me.

I sat down on my throne and rested my head on my fist as he went one with his verbose castigation.  I never used to be one to have issues with an authoritative figure, but there was just no getting along with King Corsan.  As I listened, I kept a nonchalant attitude, not wanting to give him the slightest hint that I was just about ready to rip his head off.

Finally, he seemed to be at a closing.  “Just start acting like a Princess instead of a banshee child!”

“Just start acting like a Princess instead of a banshee child!” I mimicked him, fed up with his talking.

“Do not mock me!” he shouted.

“I was simply trying to emulate your regal acts, good King.  If I am to act more like royalty, I might as well learn from you,” I retorted.

“You foolish child!” he growled, getting up.  “Guards!”

The throne room slipped into total chaos as guards filed in and ran around, swords and rope brandished.  It was exactly what I needed to get out, however.

“Get back here!” a guard hollered from behind me.  Of course, I ignored him.  There was absolutely no reason for me to go back to the infamous King just so I could be tortured some more.  There was no logic in it!  Anywhere!  If there was, I would love for someone to show it to me.

When it came to running away from my nemesis back at the castle, I was certainly no novice.  I have run away hundreds of times.  While I have never successfully escaped, I at least get further and further with each attempt.

The sun’s light was waning as I finally reached the massive mountains surrounding our fair town of Cahal.  I was relieved, for in the sun’s light, I was far too vulnerable.  The King’s men would have been able to see me with ease, and if not me, they would certainly see the out-of-place snowy owl, Shanta, that accompanied me on every one of my little runs.

Without hesitation, I began to ascend the mountain.  I had to get up and out of sight before it got too dark for even myself to see.

With a sigh and a moan, I pulled myself onto a cliff, pulling my legs in to my chest so anyone on the ground would be unable to see me.  I turned to my little owl, who hooted quietly to suppress my rigidity.

“I know, Shanta…” I whispered in response.  “I can not help it, though.  The King refuses to pass unto me the mantle.  I need to leave now and come back when I can take it from him.”  Finally, she got up and began scaling the mountain once more.

I barely made it halfway to the zenith of the mountain before I could hear Sir Pedric and his posse at the base of the mountain.  He was pointing at me and yelling something that I could not fathom.

 

“I am not going back!” I hollered down to them.

It was difficult to make out, but it looked like he was glaring at me.  “Superb…” I mumbled sarcastically.  In a futile attempt to get away, I curled up on the side of the mountain.  Out of sight, out of mind, right?

There was no longer any noise coming from bellow, so I began to relax.  No need to worry about nothing.

Abruptly, I was falling from the mountain.  I had no clue what had caused the fall until I managed to roll over and see that none other than Bartamus the bounty hunter, the very man I resented, was standing on the cliff.

I braved a look at the quickly approaching ground.  Soon I would become one with it, but something darted in and caught me, pulling me far away.  It wasn’t until we came to a standstill that I saw who my “captor” was.

“Christian!” I laughed.

“No.  It’s the Sand Man,” the boy responded with a smirk, trying to be comical.

“My, my, my!  Someone’s in a festive mood,” I teased.

“Precisely!” he replied, pulling me into a hug and kissing the top of my head.  “You know, the King is getting a little too spiteful lately.  I seriously think that the were about to kill you!”

“No need to say that twice…” I sighed.

“Well, as long as I’m around, you’ll have nothing to fear.”  He tucked my hair behind my ear before kissing me again.

“I still wish I knew how you did that!” I complained.

“I wish I could tell you how I did that,” he admitted.

It still made no sense to me why he couldn’t tell me anything about himself.  He never told me who he was, who his parents were, or even where he came from.  I had to repress my urge to further question him.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Christian commented.

“I know.  I’m just… caught in thought,” I whispered.

“Well, perhaps you should stop worrying so much.  Just enjoy the day,” he told me.

I smiled.  “With you around, I think I just might be able to,” I replied, kissing him gently on the cheek.

Tags: Confessions of a..., Religious, T-bird