Chapter 234 - 232: Royal Visitor.

Chapter 234: Chapter 232: Royal Visitor.

Most of the soldiers down here are currently having similar conversations, and Montrel’s dreading heading into the same one with his horse.

It’s no good taking them out for a run right after a snowfall.

Especially not with the clouds looking the way they do.

It would suck getting caught out in a blizzard, and his horse would definitely blame him, even though she’s been nagging for a ride for a couple of days now.

​She’s sulking in the back of her stall when he gets there, and not even a sugar cube is enough to coax her out.

​A whole handful does it though, and as soon as he extends a gloved hand she trots on over, sucks them up, and all is forgiven.

​The grooms will be mad at him though. They think that the soldiers sneaking their horses treats spoils them.

Which it does.

​"Yeah, I know girl," he chuckles as she nuzzles into his hand, and then goes straight for his pockets, looking for more.

Her coat looks glossy; the grooms have been taking good care of her.

If the snows clear this week and they still haven’t been sent out on assignment he’ll have to see if any of the others are keen for a ride.

​"Montrel," one of the soldiers hollers to him from the door, "Looks like you have a visitor."

​"Huh?" he frowns, moving towards the door.

Khobi’s still running and anyone else who he’d normally associate with is here, "Who?" The soldier points, and Montrel follows his line of sight over to the archery range, where a young woman with dark black hair looks to be speaking with a handful of the soldiers.

Soldiers who are looking over this way, and pointing.

​"Is that Her Highness?" Mural inquires curiously, leaning around to get a better look.

​It is. She looks different from usual, but it’s definitely her.

​She sees all of them looking, and waves.

​Without really thinking about it, Montrel waves back.

And then regrets it when his friends – if they can even be called that –immediately pounce on him from either side, oohing and whistling like teenagers and telling him he’s turning red.

​Which he’s not.

​(He hopes.)

She does kind of seem like she’s waiting for him though, and it’s very validating when Mural says as much and asks him if he’s gone and done anything that would make the princess seek him out.

He doesn’t think so. He did tell her that it was fine to come back whenever, but it had been a while since she had last come down so he just assumed she got busy, or had forgotten all about that.

​It’d be best not to leave her waiting. Her being a princess and all.

So he makes a hasty apology to his horse with promises of returning with more sugar cubes and hurries over to the archery range where the princess is waiting, seeming quite at ease amongst the giant soldiers around her.

Her two handmaidens who have accompanied her today, don’t.

​"Good morning,Sir Montrel," she greets as he approaches.

​"Mornin’," he greets flatly, and then hastily dips into a quick bow as he belatedly remembers his manners, "I mean...Good morning, Your Highness."

He could swear he hears her giggle, but that has to be his imagination. "You back for more?" It’s a guess, and a hopeful one at that.

Measured, too; she’s ditched the usual fancy, sweeping dresses she’s always seen in for something that doesn’t trail in the dirt, and there’s a pair of boots peeking out from under her skirts.

He doesn’t exactly keep track but it’s significantly more understated than anything he’s ever seen her in.

​She still looks like a princess, though. Not that he’s an expert.

​"I am," she affirms brightly, and gestures to her attire like she’s very pleased by it.

Her handmaidens are dressed to match, and don’t seem to share her enthusiasm, "I thought this might be more appropriate. I wasn’t exactly dressed for it last time."

​(Well that’s an understatement. Montrel has tried very hard not to think about how much gold a dress like that would’ve cost.)

As for appropriate, it’s hardly right for them to have their own princess kitted out in such ill fitting equipment, but they don’t see many ladies in these parts and as such nothing they have fits her particularly well.

At least it’s cleaner this time. She doesn’t seem to mind too much though, adjusting the straps the way Montrel had shown her the last time, and when he asks her what she remembers she’s quite merrily recites his instructions back to him, even going so far as to include some extra information he doesn’t recall telling her.

Some of it he didn’t even know himself, like the history of the bow and the various kinds found throughout the world, and how styles vary between regions.

​It’s almost like she’d been reading up on the subject since she was last here.

​Montrel wonders what else she’s been reading up on.

She’d seemed quite interested in a lot of the drills, and had asked him a lot more questions than he was expecting from a lady.

​She’s much more confident with the draw this time.

Her posture isn’t half bad either.

​The arrow, however, sails a foot over the target and a good couple of feet wide.

​" Down !" Montrel hollers, and a couple of soldiers in the distance have the good sense to immediately drop, even though they’re nowhere in range.

​"Hmph," the princess huffs, and as she lowers the bow her brow shows the barest beginnings of a frown.

She’s clearly not pleased with her effort –even though it was by no means a terrible shot –and seems quite determined to do better.

Already she’s hefting up another arrow into her bow to line up another shot.

​(It’s...quite admirable.)

She’s just about to string her third arrow when Khobi jogs on past and heckles Montrel for slacking off when he was meant to be in the stables all morning.

To which Montrel politely tells him to fuck off, because some of them actually have jobs to do.

He probably should’ve worded it better, considering his present company, and really he would’ve , but before he gets the chance the princess pops out from behind him to greet him.