THE TAUREAN PRINCE
CHAPTER II: Ominous Portents
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Ferland lay face down on his bed for a bit longer, relishing the anger he felt. He was but one Arponian cycle from coronation day, yet he was still treated as a child! He imagined various ways he could get back at those who wronged him, Freylin in particular, but as he imagined the various pranks and antics, some harmless, some not so, he felt his anger fading, and soon, he could hardly remember what had gotten him so agitated.
He stood up. The sun was fully risen now, and he knew that if he made his mother wait any longer, he was in for a serious whipping. When she wanted something, she got it, and she was not going to patient about it. He walked over to his wardrobe, rummaged through it, and picked out the least-wrinkled pair of trousers he could find. Hastily pulling it on, he left his room and began walking down one of the innumerable hallways of the palace.
As he traversed the long and straight hallway, he noticed an unusual lack of activity. Normally, the palace was bustling by this time, various dignitaries from strange lands being lead around with their retinues, minor officials bustling about with harried expressions and paperwork askew in their arms, servants and slaves cleaning and attending, but today, nothing. What was going on? As he continued towards the courtyard, he spotted a lone handmaid down the hall. He knew her by name; she was one of the prettier ones, he often thought to himself.
“Hey! Garannah! Where is everybody?” he shouted, waving his hand.
Garannah looked down the passage towards him, gave what seemed to be a startled expression, as if she was scared of being seen, then rushed off into some side corridor. That was unusual behavior for her, Ferland mused, slowly lowering his arm. “I thought I had made some progress on her last time, had I been too forward? Nonsense. I’m the Taurean Prince! Any maiden of Taures should be honored to be in the good graces of such a fine young man, if I do say so myself!” This pep talk did little to raise his spirits.
Now mildly concerned about the state of things, he quickened his pace. The courtyard was just ahead, and soon, he turned a corner and found himself surrounded by exotic trees and fragrant flowers, the most resplendent garden in the whole of the normally barren and desertic Taures. And, standing in the center of the area, next to a large fountain, was his mother, Forluna, Queen of Taures, looking extremely impatient, her arms crossed. Any common person would be expected to bow and endure all sorts of formalities once in her presence, but he simply walked closer. She noticed him.
“Ferland! Where have you been? I sent Freylin for you an hour ago!”
Ferland ignored this line of questioning. “Where is everybody? I saw none but the servant Garannah all throughout the palace!”
“That’s none of your business, Ferland.”
He bristled. “What do you mean, ‘none of my business’? I am nearly of age, isn’t time people started telling me things?”
Forluna sighed. “Why do you think I summoned you? I can tell you this: you are to see Paromon at once.”
“Paromon? The lore-master? His quarters are all the way on the other side of the palace! Why did I need to come here at all, just to be sent on another quest?”
Forluna paused before responding, then smiled slightly. “Because I wanted to see you again. I’ve been so busy getting ready for coronation that I hardly get to see my own son. Now, get going. This is extremely urgent.”
Now it was Ferland’s turn to sigh. “Fine, but I don’t see why everything is so urgent all of a sudden. Remember, we still have a whole Arponian cycle before the big day.”