The princess sat on the ivory throne as ancient as the castle, both aged with time and her father’s rule. The jesters came and went in their bright costumes; the knights came and went with their mighty steeds. Still she couldn’t put a finger to it, to what was missing. The jesters couldn’t please her, the knights didn’t interest her. Sitting in the golden hall, in the land of the riders, she was really waiting for nothing in particular to happen. Waiting, waiting and waiting. And waited she did as the jesters still came and entertained, as the knights came and went.
But he watched as he passed the hall, the ordinary page boy in rags. He smelt of the horses he fed, looked of the chores in the stables. He caught a glimpse of her, through the elaborate movement, through the jesters and their mimes, through the knights and their grand steeds. As if their destinies had impossibly met for a brief moment, for a moment interwined, she caught his eye. Then he was gone just as quickly, hidden by the frills of the maids’ dresses, concealed behind the loud boasts of the dukes. The fluttering curtains hid him, the diming light of the dusk shrouded him, the lines of ambient light sunset provided as they filtered through the dark battlements of the castle concealed him. And once again the princess couldn’t quite put a finger to what had was missing, the feeling eluding her once again. She craned to get a view, to see beyond the court subjects and their treachery, to look pass her king and queen and their dreams for her, to find what was so missing in her life. But she couldn’t see, blind as she was, she couldn’t see pass anything.
Like a blind spot in time he was gone. Alone down the past the battlements, down the corridor, he was, feeling warmer in his heart; as though he was whole for once; he felt happier than he had ever did in his life as a castle page. Giving a fleeting thought to the moment earlier sorely on impulse, and feeling the warmth crept back into his heart despite the cold winter chill that seemed to emanate from the very castle. It was a moment short lived, as the horse feed he had in his hands seemed to call out to him to feed the horses in the stables.