A Shift in the Winds | Arthur & Eithne

The festive sounds grew fainter as Eithne slipped from the Great Hall and into the empty corridors, her slippers barely making a sound on the stone. It seemed like a lifetime ago that instead of her silent footsteps she had been racing through these sides alongside Eilia, laughing and making plans about how their futures would play out in these halls. It had been so simple-- as soon as she was of age, Eithne would become one of Eilia's ladies and they might spend all their time together. Back then there was never an idea that her dearest friend would have become Queen so young-- they'd imagined themselves dancing with courtiers, flirting with foreign dignitaries, and staying up long into the evenings without a care. Neither of them had imagined where they would find themselves currently.

Eithne had made a feeble attempt to speak with Eilia but the Queen had been so closely surrounded by members of the Varmont court, it was near to impossible to reach her. Adding to that Cassimir seeming to be keeping tabs on her movements, she had all but given up on having even the briefest of moments to speak to her friend.

When she had noticed Cassimir had become distracted by some raucous story being told by one of the lords, Eithne took her chance and slipped away from the party. It felt overwhelming in a away she couldn't describe and as nostalgic she had been for her time in the castle as a young girl, she now found herself missing the quiet of the kitchens at the estate.

Footsteps much louder than her own echoed in the hallway, causing Eithne to startle from her thoughts. She turned, half expecting to find Cassimir in search of her but it was not.

Eithne knew an entirely different prince than the one standing before her. The one she knew was dressed less formally, marching about the countryside with her. He would eat the humble lunch Cook would pack for them by the stream, help her chase the chickens back into their pen as if it were a delightful game, and somehow had managed to remind her that there were still reasons to laugh sometimes.

The man standing before her was different, dressed in his royal refinery. He looked the part of a future king and Eithne was reminded once again the same thing she told herself every time he rode away from their estate: there was no future for her with Arthur Varmont.

"Your Highness," she dipped into a curtsey that immediately felt unnatural given the casual nature of their relationship when he came to visit her at the estate, however she found herself at a loss of what else she might say to him in this situation.