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Luciana felt the warmth of blood against her fingertips as the outlaw released her. Without a second thought, the princess pushed herself away from the villainous man, skittering a good distance away from him. His crimson blood stained her pale flesh of her fingers, and with disgust, the princess wiped the red liquid on the skirt of her dress that camouflaged the mark. Heavy breaths escaped from her lips as the burst of adrenaline passed. A proud smirk danced on her lips for but a moment until she noticed the dull pain that throbbed in her arm that had been twisted behind her back. The Armorican royal pursed her lip in a scowl intended for the howling hyena who was attempting to steal her away. ‘Ignore it.’ Luciana told herself, not wanting to show any weakness. So in order to discreetly coddle her injured limb, the princess crossed her arms over her chest as she glared daggers at Vaughn. She doubted that there was a single man in the world that she despised more that him right now.

However the visage of defiance did not stay on Luciana’s face for long. Her light gray eyes grew wider by the moment as the dark renegade took hold of her poor Cavalier. She nearly cried out in desperation as one of the deadly swords met her stallion’s thick, muscular neck. The unyielding princess hitched up the skirt of her gown, planning to more or less charge the villain and reclaim her beloved equine, however her plans changed dramatically as his words resounded in her ears.

"Run My Lady, and the last sound you will hear from this area is the squealing of your animal's pain. For I swear, I will kill it in the most agonizing way that a horse can die."

As she was moving toward her captor, Luciana froze on the spot with terror evident in her lovely features. Surely he was not serious! However, Luciana was not going to put anything past Vaughn. Everything about him seemed merciless. How she hated him and anyone like him! Those without do not deserve anything but the hangman’s noose tight around their necks.

"Now, will you cooperate?"

“You’re a coward! An absolute coward!” shouted Luciana with as much bravado as she could muster as tears threatened to escape from her eye. With a final insolent smirk, she continued, “But you know that. For why else would you threaten a helpless animal.”

With that all of her boldness and audacity left her. Her mind was focused solely of saving the black Andalusian. She knew it was an odd thing to sacrifice one’s self for the life of an animal, but Cavalier was practically family. He had been a gift from her father who deemed his daughter better suited for a warhorse and a docile palfrey. None in Armorica saw the partnership unfitting for the equine and the princess seemed to share the same spirit. As the images of the stallion’s demise swam through her already distressed mind, the princess face contorted into a visage of despair while minute rivulet of tears streamed down her pallid cheeks.

Sinking to the ground, Luciana stated, her voice cracking at times, “Now take me and leave him be.”

Through one of the lush forests of Albion, two carriages bearing the Armorican royal standard surrounded by the royal family’s most trusted knights steadily made their way along the worn dirt road toward the Castle of Gawant. Inside one were trunks filled with the possessions of Luciana le Valois, and in the other was the Princess of Armorica herself. Like many of the noble women of Albion, Luciana was on her way to a gathering of princesses and other ladies of high birth. It was certain to be quite an event and one the Armorican princess wanted to “regretfully” miss. However her father had somehow learned of it and sent her a letter, “strongly suggesting” that she attend.

So here she was dressed to the height of Armorican fashion in one of her more expensive ensembles. She wore a magnificent satin gown of red and purple—the color of royalty. A skirt of red and silver brocade fabric showed through a split in the expensive, iridescent cloth. At her elbow, rich crimson velvet billowed into a belled sleeve while a fitted sleeve of the brocade fabric sheathed her forearm. The gown’s final embellishment was the line of miniature rubies that bordered the square neckline, framing the elegant amethyst necklace that hung from her swan like neck. To go with the necklace, she wore earrings embellished with the violet jewel and resting on top of her head was an imperial gold crown imbedded with brilliant cut amethyst. Behind the crown, Luciana’s dark tresses were nestled into a heap of soft curls, and let’s not forget the footwear, a pair of golde brocade heels. No one could say she was not dressed to impress.

Surprisingly enough, the whole journey had not turned out to be totally uneventful. Why just the other day, Luciana’s trip had taken an unexpected turn while she and her guards took shelter at an inn for the night. The princess ran into a dear friend who she had not seen in quite some time, Lady Romily de Braose. Luciana knew of Romily’s escape from her life of nobility and her father and admired the girl’s free spirit to do so. It took courage to leave behind everything one knows and strike out on one’s own. Surely the Princess of Armorica would never do such a thing; she enjoyed royal life too much. So over rich food and mulled wine, the two chatted and gossiped like a pair of school girls; their conversation lasted half the night and ceased when they were too tired to keep their eyes open. Then when it came time for Luciana to leave for Gawant’s Castle, the princess begged and pleaded for her friend to come with her, not wanting to leave Romily’s delightful company. While she practically dragged her friend into her carriage, the dark Armorican beauty spun every positive angle that she could think of, and even making up a few, about the assembly, hoping to convince the runaway lady to come with her. Luciana did not know which words did the trick for she was blurting everything out a mile a minute with amazing articulation, but she eventual compelled Romily to go with her. Not knowing her situation, the Princess of Armorica offered to let the fair haired Carmelide rose borrow any of her dresses and jewels. So when they were finally ready to leave the inn, they were fifteen minutes behind schedule much to the dismay of Luciana’s escort. However, the princess did not mind. That would just mean that they were going to be fashionably late.

With a new outlook on this little venture, the Princess of Armorica sat contently in her carriage, trying to ignore the less that smooth ride. A soft smile rested on her rose tinted lips as she busied herself with her needlepoint. Ever so skillfully, Luciana embroidered a graceful, richly colored peacock onto square of white linen harnessed in an embroidery hoop. As she pushed and pulled her needle through the thin fabric, a soft breeze blew through the Armorican royal coach, swirling through the ladies’ skirts that manifested a sound like the rustling of angel’s wings. For a brief moment, Luciana glanced out the open window of the carriage, surveying the rustic scenery. There was so much green! Even with that one glimpse, it made the gray eyed princess a bit sick of the color. ‘The leave need to change color… give the world a bit more contrast,’ mused the Armorican royal, returning her attention to her needlework.

As she began to fill in the details of the vain bird’s exquisite tail feathers, her stitching almost invisible to the eye, Luciana said with a bright smile, “Romily, I cannot thank you enough for coming along with me. I know this little soirée will be much more bearable with you in attendance. Plus, it’ll give us a chance to catch up some more.”

With Romily there, the Princess of Armorica at least knew she would have someone to carry an intelligent conversation with. Luciana did not quite know who was going to be at the Castle of Gawant. She knew Isolde, the Princess of Celidoine, would be there; it was Luciana who brought it to her attention. She thought it would be a good opportunity for the Celidonian princess to social network and such. One could never have too many friends.

‘I wonder if she’s going to be there…’ thought Luciana, referring to the Princess Isadora de Caerleon of Gwent. The dark haired princess’s lips pursed in aversion at the thought of the Gwentite royal. When Luciana and Isadora first met, it was like hate at first sight. Her Gwentite counterpart’s spoiled and pampered nature turned off the Armorican princess. Not that Luciana wasn’t doted on, but at least she could sew her own clothes. It seemed like Isadora couldn’t do anything for herself. A rivalry then grew between the two princesses, and whenever they were in the same room together, which thankfully was not very often, the sneaky and covert insults flew. As Luciana look back on their last encountered, she prayed, ‘God, please do not let her be there.’

“Hopefully, I haven’t dragged you into a bore.” The Armorican princess continued giving her friend a bit of an apologetic glance.

Then out of nowhere, one of Luciana’s guards knocked on the window, and announced, “Your Highness, we are almost at the castle.”

She thanked her guard for this information and set aside her embroidery. Placing her pale hands on her lap, Luciana began to compose herself to a manner that befitted a young woman of her station. Unfortunately for the sake of appearance, the princess had to discard her unpredictable qualities and revert to her demure and ladylike demeanor. As a Princess of Armorica, she had to be without reproach. Her mother and father would settle for no less, so she would give them no less. Luciana would make sure to honor the Valois family in every respect.

As the princess’s coach drove up to the entrance of the Castle of Gawant, Luciana stole a quick look out of her window, glimpsing a part of the castle’s entrance. She saw she was not the first to arrive, which pleased her. The Armorican princess saw that Isolde had already arrived, recognizing her from her flowing golden hair. Then the carriage slowly came to a stop, careful not to jostle around its passengers too much. The second carriage halted behind the first in a similar manner. Then a footman from the first coach quickly but properly opened the door for the ladies inside, offering his hand in assistance. Gently placing her hand on top of the footman’s, Luciana diffidently stepped out of the coach with a somber expression, which was reserved for such occasions, on her face. When her dainty feet were on the ground, she paused for a moment, quickly studying the ladies that had already arrived. Upon not seeing Princess Isadora de Caerleon, the Armorican princess, thought, ‘So far so good.’ Assuming Romily was right behind her, Luciana then made her way over to the other ladies with a soft but noble smile, moving at poise and dignified gait that made her seem like she was walking on air.

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So... I have become extremely addicted to Photoshop lately, and I thought I would exhibit some of my work. Enjoy!

A Golden World

What If

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Arthur and Luciana circa. Season 1

Winter Walk

As the dashingly handsome Prince of Camelot rode in to the front courtyard of the Castle of Armorica, a playful and euphoric grin spread across her lips. She leaned farther out the window so that her upper body was practically resting on the ledge to get a closer glimpse at Arthur. As he dismounted his horse and greeted her family, Luciana thought about calling down to him in some poetic manner like the ladies in romance novels did when they were longing for their lovers. However the princess disregarded the clichéd idea all together at the group of royals started chatting. Instead she just gazed down at him, her pearl gray eye fixated on his practically perfect form, as she rested her chin on top of her fair, delicate hands. Then her handmaid, Alis, joined her mistress at the window, wondering what the princess was staring at.

“Prince Arthur is in a fine form today, is he, my lady,” comment the adolescent girl, taking a quick glance out the window.

Without looking back at her maid, Luciana giggled softly at her remark. Arthur always looked magnificent and strong and dignified. It was like as if he was invulnerable to everything, even this blasted heat. Then turning her head slightly to look Alis in the eye, the Princess of Armorica smirked with delight, and stated, “It’s like God fashioned him Himself.”

Then as Alis began to make her bed, Luciana returned her attentions to the visiting prince. As her gaze fell on him once more, she saw Arthur looking up at her with his ever so charming smile. It was enough to make a girl melt. It was a good thing Luciana was holding onto the window’s ledge, or else she might have found herself on the floor. Then Arthur’s next actions delighted her to no end. If it weren’t for the fact that he was watching her, the Armorican princess would have most likely squealed and jumped around like a school girl with her first crush. With his arms stretched out, the handsome prince bowed at the waist in a theatrical manner. Any lady would have been ecstatic to be the recipient of such a grand gesture. Luciana certainly was. The whole time a wide smile of sheer pleasure was plastered to Luciana’s pretty face. Then as he rose out of his bow, the princess returned it with a graceful nod; her dark curls cascading over her elegant shoulder.

As the Prince of Camelot followed her family inside the gleaming white castle, Luciana left her window, and cried, “Alis! Alis! Get my floral brocade gown! Quickly!”

As if by magic, the young handmaid appeared with the intricate dress and a pure ivory chemise. As Alis arranged the pieces of the gown on the princess’s bed, Luciana scurried to put her matching rosewood high heels. The raising her arms over her head, the princess bade, “Alis, the skirt.”

“What about the chemise, your ladyship?” inquired the handmaid, questioning her order of dressing.

“Oh, forget the chemise. It’s too bloody hot for it anyway,” answered Luciana, a bit bothered that her maid was questioning her.

Alis didn’t push the matter any further and hastily pulled the brocade skirt over Luciana’s head and fastened it about her tiny wait. While the young servant laced the back of the off the shoulder bodice, the princess of Armorica pulled the detachable sleeves onto her arms and skillfully laced them to the bodice. She did not lace them completely together, wanting to show a bit of flesh. Like a well-oiled machine, the maid and princess worked together to finish the princess’s dressing. After her gown was completed, Luciana went over to her vanity and swiftly gussied herself up a bit. Teasing her dark locks with her nimble fingers, the princess fluffed her wavy tresses to give it a bit more volume. Then with a bit of lip stain on her finger, she colored her lips an enticing rose shade that suited her complexion to perfection. Then she dabbed a bit of rosewater about her neck and wrist, favoring the barely noticeable floral scent. Finally, the stylish princess donned a pair of simple gold earring, not wanting anything to take attention off of her gown. Pleased with her overall appearance, Luciana smirked as she admired herself in the mirror, pleased with herself, and then swiftly exited her luxurious room.

Picking up her skirt, the princess rushed through the hallways and corridors, slowing down to a dignified walked just before she reached the castle’s main stairs. Then just as her family and, more importantly, Prince Arthur entered the castle, Luciana elegantly and gracefully made her way down the white stone steps like an angel descending from heaven. A charming, seductive smile danced on her lips as an enticing gleam filled her light eyes. Luciana could feel every pair of eyes, which were quite a few, in the room fall upon her, admiring her apparent charms. After reaching the bottom of the steps, the Princess of Armorica sauntered toward her noble family with so much poise it seem as if she wear floating across the floor. Once she joined with King, Queen, and Prince of Armorica, Luciana greeted her father, kissing him on both cheeks and then did the same to her mother. As she moved to give Tristan a gentle peck, the Armorican prince whispered softly in his sister’s ear that her entrance was marvelous as always. Smiling a thank you, the princess turned her attention to the only man she was trying to impress.

“You remember Prince Arthur, don’t you, my dear?” remarked King Alaric, smiling brightly at his beloved daughter.

“Of course, Father,” replied Luciana, her gray eyes meeting the prince’s light blue ones. Then she mimicked the Camelotian royal’s earlier gesture… somewhat. Sinking to the floor, the Armorican princess elegantly curtsied to the visiting prince, bending her knee until it almost touched the ground. Then before rising from the floor, she added to her earlier statement, in a tantalizing voice, “How could I forget the Prince of Camelot?”

“I was just about to show the Prince to his chambers-" began Luciana’s regal father, but Luciana cut him off, and said, like a dutiful daughter, “Oh, let me escort Prince Arthur. You would not want to neglect your other guests, now would you, Father?”

The King of Armorica nodded and approved his exquisite daughter’s request. Then with a triumphant, seductive smile, Luciana turned to the prince, and stated, “Follow me, your Highness.”

The Princess of Armorica led the exceedingly attractive prince up the white stairs at a gradually pace, feeling no need to rush. As she silently guided him through the halls of the extensive palace, a sense of electricity filled the tense air. Of course the stillness that resided between the two royals did assuage the tension. The princess would have reached out a taken the prince by the arm, but with the servants skittering about, she did not want them to report unlady-like behavior to her father. If that happen, King Alaric would probably forbid his daughter from being in Prince Arthur’s company. That would make the celebrations truly dreadful.

Entering the east wing of the Castle of Armorica, Luciana halted at large, pale double doors. Opening them, she revealed what would be the prince’s chambers for the duration of his stay in her fair country. The rather large room was decorated in the Pendragon colors. In the far corner stood a red swathed king size bed with a large white armoire next to it. There was another door diagonal to the armoire that led to the bathing room, and nearest to the double doors was a small polished wooden table with four chairs placed around it. The princess knew it had its tacky points, like the gaudy gold chandelier that hung in the middle of the room and the gilded wall décor, but she chose this room for him for a very specific reason… No, it’s not the colors.

Gliding into the chamber, Luciana pointed out the rooms various comforts, glancing back at the prince with her alluring pearl gray eyes every few moments. Finally, the princess stopped in front of a floor length tapestry that hung on the wall closest to the bed. Luciana had woven the masterpiece of a hunting party herself with a secret purpose: to conceal the door that was behind it. Pulling the tapestry away from the wall, Luciana revealed the hidden door, and remarked seductively, “And this leads to my room. Please, don’t hesitate to inform me if you need anything at any time.”

Oh, it was hot… unbearably hot.

Armorica was experiencing its warmest month out of the year, and there was very little one could do to escape from the heat aside from stripping down to one’s bare skin. Luciana hated this weather. She could not ride her Cavalier without getting baked, and she could not take a dip in the pond close to the castle… not with all the royal guests swarming about.

So Luciana slept in the late, escaping the heat in her mind, dreaming about the play, Chateau Blanc, that was preformed the other night. The performance was put on in the Great Hall in front of the whole court. It began before supper, with the audience being led into the large chamber, hung with arras and brilliantly lit, and at the far end the glittering Chateau Blanc itself. The castle was an elaborate wooden construction with three towers, painted ivory and with battlements in hundreds of pieces of gold tinfoil. It contained hidden musicians and standing on the towers were eight ladies, Luciana among them. The eight court ladies were each cast as one of the qualities of the perfect mistress of chivalric tradition: Beauty, Honor, Perseverance, Kindness, Constancy, Bounty, Mercy, and Pity. The Princess of Armorica was of course chosen to personify Beauty. To have given her another role would have been an insult. The ladies wore gowns made out of white satin with a gold sash with their role embroidered onto it and gold masks to conceal their identities. Opposite them were the eight male virtues of the ideal courtier: Honesty (played by her brother Tristan), Nobleness, Youth, Attendance, Loyalty, Pleasure, Gentleness, and Liberty. The gentlemen wore coats of cloth of gold with blue velvet knee high boots and great mantle cloaks of blue satin. Like the women, they wore gold masks and sashes labeled with their character. The ladies were protected from assault by eight women manning the lower walls and dressed in black, each depicting one of the contrary feminine vices or virtues: Danger, Disdain, Jealousy, Unkindness, Scorn, Malebouche, Strangeness, and Lust. The men entered, led by a spokesman, Ardent Desire, dressed in crimson satin embroidered with burning flames in gold. Then Desire begged the ladies to come down, but when Scorn and Disdain announced that they would resist, he called on the courtiers to take the ladies by force. To a peal of cannon, synchronized from outside, Honesty led the attack, bombarding the castle, and its garrison with dates, oranges and 'other fruits made for pleasure' to which the ladies, replied with a barrage of sweetmeats and rosewater until Lady Scorn and the rest of the women retreated, keeping up a defensive fire with bows and balls. Then female coldness having fled before masculine ardor, the warm and soft qualities were taken prisoner and brought out of the castle to dance. When the dancing was over, masks were removed and all were known. They then went off with the audience to a costly banquet. It was one of the best nights of Luciana’s life.

With a dreamy smile on her lips, the princess relived the night in her mind over and over again. That is until her handmaid, Alis, woke her up, saying that the guests had begun to arrive. Luciana groaned and rolled over, ignoring her wake up call. Alis once again attempted to wake her mistress from her slumber but to no avail. Then when it seemed that Alis given up, Luciana felt herself being lifted her from the bed like a bride by a pair of strong arms belonging to the only man who could enter her chambers without permission, Tristan. Even in the presence of her twin brother, the princess kept her pearl gray eyes shut and nestled against her brother’s well-sculpted chest. Then suddenly, Luciana felt herself falling and was awoken by the sensation of ice cold water enveloping her skin.

“AAAAAAH! TRISTAN! HOW DARE YOU!” screamed Luciana at the top of her lungs, as she scrambled to sit upright in her silver bathtub.

“You brought it on yourself, Lulu,” retorted the Crown Prince of Armorica was a jocular laugh.

“I hate you,” stated the princess in a low grumble, as she removed her soaking wet chemise and glowered at her twin.

“Lu, some modesty, please.” He remarked, adverting his eyes to his sister’s naked form. Luciana only smirked at her brother’s discomfort and dunked under the cold water, favoring over the intense heat of the air. When it was clear that she had no intention of covering up, Tristan strode out of the room, reminding her to be quick about getting ready.

After she was finished her bath, the Princess of Armorica sat at her vanity, staring blankly at herself in the gold-framed mirror, while one of her maids brushed her coiled dark brown hair. She was dressed only in a sleeveless white corset and a few white petticoats, not wanting to wear any more layers than she had to. Even her maids were basically dressed down to their undergarments. Oh how the princess wished that her castle housed just a few more servants so that there were a few to spare to fan her. Unfortunately, the servants were being stretched thin in order to accommodate the Armorican royal families visiting allies. Her father was holding a great feast to celebrate Le Jour de Moisson, Armorica’s first day of harvest. The castle’s great hall would be filled with Armorican nobles and it’s allies who would be dining on her country’s best crop and game. The tables would be decorated in garlands and cornucopias of vegetables and fruits. Lively and joyful music would fill the hall, compliments of their finest musicians, and of course there would be dancing. Lots and lots of dancing! It would most certainly be a grand event.

Waving her hand at her maid to shoo her away, Luciana got up from her seat and walked over to the large window that looked over the entrance to the castle. Opening the window, she leaned against its stone frame and surveyed the convoy of guests that were being guided in to the front courtyard. Not doubt her parents and brother were greeting them right now, giving them some excuse for her absence. Of course she was purposely moving like a snail. Luciana did not want to meet a bunch of stuffy old men and be gawked at like a priceless artifact. That was just creepy. Then as she continued to look out over the parade of guests, she saw red banners with a magnificent gold dragon emblazon on them. Then Luciana eyes lit up and a thrilled smile graced her lips, the one of her father’s men bellowed:

“Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot!”

Alas Luciana was on her own this day. Arthur had spirited himself away in the middle of the night, she assumed to catch up to his servant, Merlin. The princess was not certain for the reason behind it for she had chosen to skip court yesterday, but she it had something about raiders attacking Merlin’s hometown. Luciana could not help but admire the Crown Prince of Camelot. Defying his father and going off to battle brigands without even a semblance of an army was quite brave, but she expected no less from the future King of Camelot.

Without the prince, the Armorican princess would be hitting the trails with no other company save for her horse. None of the other ladies of the court were as keen as riding in the early morning as she was, and the knights of Camelot had other duties to perform. They could not go gallivanting around with her all willy-nilly.

So as the rose over the grand city of Camelot, Luciana ran down the steps of the castle to the main courtyard, her feet moving faster than an Irish dancer’s. Her dress today was one of her less extravagant ones. Over a pure white chemise and full royal blue skirt, the princess wore a stylish crimson overdress with billowing poet sleeves and lacing down the front. She fastened the lacing a bit looser than her normal stomachers. She had to be able to breath after all. Around her tiny waist wrapped a black leather belt, and dangling in the center of her abdomen was a simple ruby pendent that hung from her neck on a long, thin gold chain. The hem of her blue skirt and crimson over dress floated above the ground, revealing her brown leather boots, as she practically flew down the white stairs.

At the bottom was her jet-black Andalusian stallion, Cavalier, waiting for her in the hands of a stable boy. As the princess strode up to the side of her steed, the stable boy asked, while handing her the reins, “Milady, are you sure you don’t want anyone to go with you? The woods can be dangerous.”

Luciana laughed as if the stable boy had just told her a joke and hoisted herself onto Cavalier. After positioning herself in her saddle, she took hold of the reins, and remarked with unwavering confidence, “I highly doubt that any thief or bandit has even thought about waking up yet.”

Unfortunately, Luciana did not leave room in her statement for renegade knights.

So as soon as the servant released the reins, the horse and rider bolted off without a care in the world. They breezed through the fields that surrounded the city, the princess’s loose dark chocolate locks blow, waving about in the manifest wind. She was, of course, careful to avoid running through the growing crops as she enjoyed her brief freedom from royal life. It would be a terrible embarrassment if she damaged Camelot’s harvest in anyway.

As the Princess of Armorica and her regal stallion approached the woods, Cavalier flared his nostrils and propelled himself forward even quicker than before. Passing through the first row of trees, Luciana tried to slow her excited equine down to a grace canter, but Cavalier tossed his head and continued on at his desired pace.

“Oh you little brat,” murmured the princess, annoyed by her horse’s less than obedient attitude. As she continued to attempt to slow the stallion, something stumbled out of the trees that stopped Cavalier in his tracks.

Luciana was not quite aware of what happened for Cavalier skidded to a halt and reared at the sight of the dark clad stranger. The princess was forced to grab onto the equine’s thick black mane in order to remain in her saddle. As Cavalier returned to the ground with a long, almost threatening snort, Luciana immediately focused on what had spooked her horse.

"Please! Help me!"

Her pearl gray eyes widened in shock and concern as her gaze fell onto seemingly injured figure that had scared her steed only moments ago. Her focus shifted to his slashed cloak and his wounded gait. ‘Oh my god! What happened to this man?” wondered Luciana, getting over her initial astonishment.

Then without thinking, the Princess of Armorica dismounted her horse and rushed over to the mysterious man. Something in her gut told her to remount quickly and run back to Camelot as fast as she could, but the man looked so helpless. She could just abandon him. Then draping her arms over, Luciana tried to steady him, and said, her crystalline voice filled with worry, “Sir, what happened to you?”

‘I will not think about how this day could get any worse,’ thought Luciana as she sat in the mud. ‘If you do, it will only get worse.’

As the rain continued to pour down on her, the princess wished she had brought a guard or two along. One to carry her back, and then one to chase after Cavalier. However, she did not think that her steadfast equine would dump her in the middle of the woods and abandoned her. She should have known that anything that could have gone wrong would have gone wrong. Oh well, at least her horse was safe and smart and ran past someone who also happened to have a horse. ‘Now all he has to do is find his way back to Camelot,’ thought the Armorican princess, not wanting to go hunting after her horse on a twisted ankle.

After the druid girl asked to inspect her ankle, Luciana gave her a brief look of skepticism. How much could an adolescent girl know about anatomy, but if she could somehow alleviate the pain in her ankle, then Luciana would welcome it.

“Be my guest,” replied the princess nonchalantly, offering her ankle to Catalina.

As the blonde haired girl examined Luciana, the injured princess thought of at least a hundred other horrible things that she would rather have gone through. ‘I would gladly wear great aunt Freesia’s atifet.’ She mused, thinking about her family’s various less fashionable heirlooms. The atifet was an obnoxious heart shaped bonnet that Luciana believed did not look good on anyone. However, her great aunt’s was particularly horrendous. It was this gaudy thing covered in topaz and pearls. It would have been decent looking if it were not for the antennas of pearls that lined the hat’s edges. However Luciana would take the mortification of wearing the thing over a bum ankle.

Her thoughts kept her mind off of the pain as the druid girl gentle touches caused waves of pain to shoot through her lower limb. Luciana winced and gritted her teeth. She was a pretty high pain tolerate princess, and she simply refused to shed tears or cry out in pain. She would bear the discomfort and limp all the way back to Camelot if she had to.

“It’s not too bad though I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way. Can you walk?”

That made Luciana feel slightly better. The druid girl’s prognosis lifted the princess’s spirit in the unrelenting, miserable weather. With a soft sigh of relief, she remarked, “Well at least there is some good news.”

Holding onto Catalina, Luciana slowly and unsteadily stood up, and quickly grasped for the druidess’s horse in order to balance her horse. The disheveled princess wrapped her arm around the equine’s dark neck afraid is she let go that she would fall right back into the mud.

Now to answer Catalina’s second question: could she walk?

Luciana was curious to figure out the answer to that question as well, and there was only one way to find out. Gently she set the toes of her injured limb on the wet ground, and with a quick hop and a step she hobbled forward. It wasn’t the graceful gait that she usually possessed, but the princess would take it. Then with a triumphant grin and a bit of a giggle, Luciana answered, “Yes, yes, I can.”

“I can take you close to Camelot if you wish, you can ride Cobalt so not to hurt your ankle.”

There was more wonderful news! Luck was on her side again.

“Thank you so much. Words cannot express my gratitude. If there is anything I can do for you, simply ask,” stated Luciana, her voice and expression filled with gratefulness. “I think I shall attempted to walk. That is if your wonderful horse doesn’t mind me leaning against him.” She continued, shifting more of her weight onto the horse, wanting to alleviate Catalina of the burden of lifting her.

“I’m Catalina.”

Now Luciana felt rather rude. Not once had she attempted to introduce herself to the druid girl. She would remedy that immediately.

“I am Luciana le Valois. It is a pleasure and a blessing you meet you, Catalina,” said the Armorican princess, with a polite smile. “Now, please lead the way. I am eager to get out of this rain as soon as possible.”

“I apologize, my Lady, but there are no stories whatsoever. Carmelide is just as dull as any affairs of state – and even if there were any – I very much doubt they’d be of interest."

Princess Luciana was more entertained by Lady Romily’s honesty and shrewdness than she could have been by any tale. At the same moment, both of the Valois twins laughed, their voices harmonizing like the pealing of church bells. It was most definitely had been a good idea to have Romily join them.

Tristan’s laughter died first as his eyes flickered towards Lord Durwin. The minute signal caught the attention of the Armorican princess, and her gaze shifted to the Lord of Wolfhall. Never in all her life had she witnessed a father show such disdain towards his own daughter… And in public no less!

Durwin’s demeanor was not the only one that had dramatically changed. His less than paternal attitude to his daughter was getting on Luciana’s nerves, and it was beginning to show. As the elder nobleman made his way over to where the quartet was sitting, the princess’s eyes became cold and steely, and her pale rose lips pursed in annoyance. The vivacity that had once emanated from her features had dispersed and were replaced with all the gravity she could muster.

“Are you feeling well, my dear?” inquired Romily’s father, his word obviously holding a double meaning.

It was clear by Romily’s reaction that she was more unnerved by her father than she was by conversing with royalty. The golden haired lady left the hall as if a hellhound was at her heels. Neither the Armorican princess nor her brother even had time to object before Romily disappeared from sight.

“I apologize for my daughter’s behavior. As I said before, she is in ill health and can grow tiresome rather quickly. I’m sure that all the excitement of sitting in between the Prince and his charming sister have brought this on. She has still yet to learn how to address royalty in a suitable way.”

Lord Durwin’s words held about as much sincerity as a snake. Luciana inaudibility scoffed at the man who she had now dubbed a suck-up of the worst kind. He may have been able to fool her mother and father, but he was not going to trick her!

Without much ceremony, the Princess of Armorica rose from her chair with a somber expression and moved in front of the table. Bowing to her parents, she stated respectfully, “I too find myself a bit weary. Excuse me.”

Before she turned, Luciana nodded to her twin, requesting him to follow her. With her affairs in order, the enchanting daughter of the Armorican royal family made her way to the arched exit of the grand hall. Stopping at the doorway, Luciana looked over her shoulder, her gray fiercely fixed on Lord Durwin, and remarked, her velvet voice as cold as ice, “Lord Durwin, I hope you enjoy my parents’ good graces…” Then as she made her exit, she added the dreaded caveat, “While they last.”

When Luciana was out of sight, she broke into a graceful run, picking up the skirt of her gown so she would trip on it. Glancing around the hallway, she looked for any clue as to which way Romily had went, but honestly there was nothing to find. The hem of her iridescent gown shimmered like an apparition in the torch light, billowing behind her as she ran. As Luciana entered the main foyer of the manor, she came to a halt, taking the chance to catch her breath. Then in an amicable, yet apologetic tone, she said, “Lady Romily, please come back. I apologize if I caused you any trouble.”