Jesters circled around the nobles, nestled away from common folk by elegant fencing. The jesters plucked coins from behind the noble children's ears, before prancing into the commoner crowds to place them in the hands of the less fortunate. Music belted proudly from the other side of the field, close to the front-row seating at the base of the castle's eastern wall. The eyes of the seated and standing were fixated on the tall balcony several stories above, where within an alcove of fine stone battlements and lace curtains sat the prince and his close court.
Prince Kesh; son of the late king Dharn and queen Verena. Kesh was thrust into matters of sovereignty rather abruptly with their passing around 5 years ago, but through the support of his late parent's advisors, his friends in nobility and a few of his more reliable siblings, he and the kingdom had stood firm throughout these changes.
Now it was only a few weeks to his 24th birthday; today's function, a meeting of royalty, had seen him meet the one who may soon become his wife.
He exchanged goodbyes with her as she and her entourage departed. One of his advisors scurried in just as they left, a perplexed look plastered on his face. The man's name was Deneb; he was scrawny and tall, a rather thick head of hair on his head covered by a round cap.
"Your highness," he began curtly, with a bow. "It would appear you have a visitor. She claims to have known your father and requests an audience."
"My father?" Kesh responded promptly, a bit startled. He took a sip of his wine, eyeing Deneb out of the corner of his eye. "Your thoughts on this visitor?"
"Advisor Vorkal and Lady Benning claim that they remember her," he continued. "They said that she's a medicine woman from the western plains who is quite well received in several of the townships there, and that she did in fact meet your father sometime over twenty years ago."
"That's quite the long time ago," Kesh muttered quietly. "I can attest to Vorkal's memory, though I do recall Lady Benning forgetting her youngest son's name once."
Kesh chuckled quietly at the memory. The advisor couldn't help but laugh a bit himself.
"Indeed, your highness," he continued with a smile. "If it aids your decision, some of the castle workers who hail from those parts seem to recognize her too."
"They say that she's helped their families out on several occasions," he went on. "On various matters from herbal remedies for common ailments to marital advice. They spoke well of her."
"Interesting," Kesh replied, getting up. "Very well, I don't see the harm in an audience, take me to her, Deneb."
Deneb bowed slightly before opening the door for his liege.
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The doors to the royal hall were opened as Kesh and Deneb entered. There, standing near the base of the throne and facing him, was a cloaked woman.
The color of her cloak was a light mint green, giving way to a leaven green dress underneath that ended around her knees just above tall leather boots; a well-woven leather satchel was tied around her waist. The woman's face was tan, of an almond brown complexion, a common shade among those from the villages who spent much time in the sun; it was several shades darker than the prince's as he spent most of his time behind the castle wall's. He'd always been more fond of scrolls and studying than roving adventuring.
That was more for his siblings, much to his chagrin; most of them were out by the border's at this very moment, hunting for monsters and busy with other miscellaneous shenanigans.
The woman was taller than Kesh; a common occurrence for him as he wasn't that tall for his age and the women of the kingdom were quite tall on average. A small gold ring piercing hung prominently from her septum, and thick black curls of hair poked out from under the hood of her cloak. Her sharp eyes were outlined with some form of body paint, with small lines of red and dark brown streaking away in well-defined spirals and symbols; her brows were neat and well defined. A similar coat of dark maroon paint covered her lips, which were spread wide in a warm smile.
Kesh smiled back subconsciously. There was something about her, a form of pull, that was unfamiliar to him yet so enticing; he was almost dragged towards her as he somehow overtook his advisor and stood before her before the confused Deneb could even announce him.
"You must be Kesh," she spoke, her voice warm and friendly, almost sticky to the mind of Kesh; it was as if it was all he could hear.
"Yes," he replied promptly. He was a bit flustered; he realized he didn't know what else to say in the moment.
Deneb, now having caught up, looked perplexed as to why the prince hadn't taken insult at her informal tone.
"My apologies for this sudden visit, especially for such an old matter," she continued, turning to Deneb. "And for the informality of my tone."
She turned back to Kesh.
"You just resemble your father so much," she said, folding her arms as she did.
The sleeves of her dress slid away slightly, revealing tattoos of black and red that ran down her fingertips and along her wrists, growing more sparse as they approached her still veiled elbow. Kesh caught images of wild animals, glyphs and various patterns, yet the details were too minute for a cursory glance to divulge; he didn't want to be rude and stare.
"Quite a bit smaller than him, if you'll permit the observation," she grinned. "Not a bad thing for me mind you."
Deneb seemed to have taken offence again leaned in to speak, but Kesh made a calming gesture to still him.
"No offence taken," Kesh smiled. "The circumstances are strange, but if you did know my father as you claim then I am quite pleased to make the acquaintance."
"The feeling is mutual," she replied, her gaze on him still firm and intense. "The details of that meeting are what I wish to discuss with you."
She turned to Deneb.
"In private, I must insist," she said politely, with a slight nod.
"Now madam, regardless of your acquaintance with the late king I'm afraid we can't just-" Deneb began to protest, until Kesh made another gesture to ease him.
"I think it will be fine," Kesh comforted him.
He was somewhat concerned as well by the request, but his curiosity and - somewhat embarrassing - newfound infatuation overtook it.
