"It would be lovely if you would. Could you place this in the carriage, darling, so I shan't forget it?" Charles' fingers closed slightly around the book his hand, the leather, still warm from his wife's hands, pressed into his palms. Slowly he slipped the small volume into the top of his burgundy tunic, letting the novel fall down to his belt. Despite how uncomfortable it was, at least he'd be able to keep the text clean while carrying as much as he could. "Of course, dearest," he replied, looking back at her as he lifted their bags up in his hands. She approached him, then, and pressed her lips quickly against his. Charles returned the kiss with a passion, his eyes closing for a moment. He silently prayed they would have time alone on the carriage ride. Harriet moved off toward the door, her dress moving behind her as she walked swiftly. Charles watched her closely, staying a few steps behind as she lifted the latch and started down the hallway.
"I shall see you in a little while," she called, moving toward the dining hall. Charles smiled and nodded, yawning softly afterwards. Unfortunately, the courtyard and dining hall were in opposite directions from the bed chambers he had shared with Harriet. Therefore, he knew he would be walking alone to the carriages that stood outside. Hefting the bags a bit higher, Charles started down the long, well-decorated hallway. It was cold, too cold for his taste. In fact, the further he went, the colder it seemed to be. He regretted not putting on a doublet over his tunic. Perhaps he'd pull one out of his bag before getting in the carriage to leave.
The young knight made his way out of the front doors of the castle, entering the courtyard straight away. The cold air hit him sharply, a great contrast to the weather he normally dealt with back in his home. Charles hunched his shoulder slightly and approached an empty carriage, which he placed the bags near. Another gust of wind hit and, instead of bracing it, Charles quickly rummaged through his luggage and pulled out a thick, fur overcoat which he'd had made especially for diplomatic relations such as this. In fact, he hardly used coats of any kind back in Port Vale. The warm ocean breezes made the weather mild enough to hardly feel a thing which was just the way he loved it.
With the overcoat on, Charles grabbed a few bags and begun to place them in the carriage itself, making sure to leave enough room for his wife and himself. Suddenly remembering, he pulled the novel out and laid it on the seat where Harriet would be able to see it. Grabbing the rest of the luggage, Charles stepped up on to the running board of the carriage and started to set them on the top. His lean frame pressed against the side of the carriage as he attempted to balance himself. However, as he set the final chest on top of the carriage, his footing shifted and his right foot lost its foothold. Pitching backwards, Charles grasped for some sort of handle, yet his fingers simply closed around nothing as he fell backwards.
"Oi, sir, you alright?" cried a servant, hurrying over to Charles as the latter muttered a curse under his breath and slowly sat up. The servant gripped one of Charles' arms and, with a surprising amount of strength, lifted him to his feet. Charles rolled his shoulders slowly, sore from the sudden contact with the stone. He'd probably find a few ugly bruises later...but he did not want to appear weak before the man who helped him up. Removing his coat to brush it off, he nodded quickly.
"Yes, I am quite alright," he replied, matter-of-factly. The knight pulled the overcoat back on over his throbbing shoulders and looked down at the servant who could not be much taller than five and a half feet or so. "Just tie those bags up there when you get around to it."
"I'll try not to fall," murmured the man as he walked off to the carriage. Charles huffed lightly, eyes narrowed at the arrogant man. Chin tilted upward slightly as if to show he still had as much pride as beforehand, Charles made his way to the stables to check on his horse. Serenity was a tall, white mare of only nine years that had been a gift from an old friend, long since dead in battle or gone into hiding. Her name was quite the misnomer, however; the mare showed an attitude and spunk that made her nearly impossible to break at first. It was a challenge, but there was nothing better than a good challenge in Charles' mind. As he entered the stall, he could hear her distinct, high-pitched whiny which was paired with a deep snorting. His pace quickened slightly and he turned the corner to find his horse and another chestnut mare nipping at each other, whining or snorting when they hit their mark.
"Ease off, girl!" he shouted, shoving away the snout of his horse and receiving a slight nip on his hand. He moved her large, snow-colored head to face him, staring into her brown eyes. "Hush now." Slowly, Charles ran a hand along her snout then twirled a piece of her forelock in his fingers as the horse began to calm. "Good girl...stay out of trouble." He pressed his lips softly against her nose and then stepped back. The mare let out a sharp whiny, tossing her head impatiently as if she wanted him to return and let her out. Shooting the horse a regretful look, he turned and started back out to the carriage. By the time he was out, the arrogant servant had tied the bags and chests to the carriage and secured them.
The sky overhead had turned dark and a bit unsettling by then as large, dark clouds crowded the heavens. Charles frowned, running a large palm through his auburn locks as his lips pressed together in worry. Well, at least they'd be inside the carriage if it rained. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Harriet walking toward him with a basket in her hands. She pulled open the door of the carriage and slipped it inside on to a seat before wrapping her arms around him from behind. She pressed a kiss against his shoulder and murmured: "Are we ready, love?" Her forehead came to rest against his shoulder, buried in the fur of his overcoat. Charles smiled and slowly turned around to face his wife, wrapping his own arms around her as he placed a kiss on the top of her head.
"Ready when ever you are, my darling," he cooed, pulling away to place a hand under her chin and tilt it upward. With his eyes now meeting hers, Charles leaned down and kissed her again, letting his lips linger on hers before eventually pulling away. The knight opened the carriage door again and took his wife's hand to support her as she got in. After she was in, he'd follow her and settle into the seat beside her.