Nathanael: A Short Story

Prince Nathanael, accompany by his lovely betrothed and her family, sashay through the throng of people to his father and uncle.
Kathrynne rises from her chair, spying on his every move. She eavesdrops on the conversation he is now having with members of the King’s council from the food table: “I hope this signifies my allegiance to you all,” Nathanael speaks, “and when the time comes, you’ll demonstrate your loyalty to me.”
“You’ll make a fine King,” one says with the others agreeing. “You have our support.”
“Excuse me, your highness,” a nobleman says, bringing her eyes to him. “I’m trying to reach the platter of turkey legs.”
Kathrynne quickly turns her back to the table, feeling her brother’s glare. She steps to the side, allowing the Lord
“Your Lordship,” she says, puffing her cheeks as if she was about to smile. “Have I ever told you how much you mean to me? I mean, you could be the next King, if the sight of you, did not repulsive me.”
The nobleman rose from his chair in a huff, pique at the way he has been spoken too, disappearing into the crowd.
“My-my sister, are we allowing another suitor to run away, or are we still scraping the bottom of the barrel in search of a husband,” Prince Nathanael speaks, curving his lips upwards, displaying his dimples. He was a splitting image of his father: a younger version, with no wrinkles and a muscular frame. He was two years younger than Princess Kathrynne was. “I heard about your little spat with Seeker Reinhold. I feel sorry for the lad. I know he has been in love with you since he was nine,” he mentions. “Your life must be filled with such loneliness that your only joy comes from destroying another’s happiness.”
Kathrynne takes a pensive sip of her wine, her expression unreadable. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor during your time in exile?”
“Jealous, I found love. Why you have to beg father to search the realm to find you a suitor not worthy to bathe the royal
The servant is currently cleaning a spill, her eyes transfix on the King and his brother. She stands, grabbing a tray of empty goblets off the table, and intentionally bumps into the King, dropping it at their feet.
“What is the matter with you?” a furious Michal snaps, stepping backward from the spill.
“I’m so sorry, your majesty,” she replies, dropping to her knees with her head bowed.
Annoy, the King, commands another to assist her. The two promptly step away, leaving the two servants to tend to the mess.
Once King David and Earl Michal were out of sight, the servant picks up the tray and rose to her feet. “Excuse me,” she says to the other servant. “I must report to the kitchen.”
The servant with long reddish hair nods, still cleaning her spill.
She leaves and returns a moment later, carrying another tray of drinks, making her rounds through the bustling room. “My lord, would you like a drink,” she asks the round nobleman with curly, brown hair.
“No, thank you,” he responds, concealing the item she stolen from the King.
The servant returns to her duties, as the nobleman continues to observe the