Snippet #2668106

It had been a rather eventful day. An Emissary from one of the Lords' sons had arrived, bearing a gift. He had just returned from travels to other countries and lands. And now, he was yet another suitor that she held little interest in. If he wanted to press his suit, why not approach her himself?

The hours trundled along, and as mid-day arrived, so came with it the near end of the line. And with that... Her head cocked slightly as she felt a familiar tread heading up the castle steps in her extended awareness. She knew that particular set of feet. A smile flashed across her face, as she refused to acknowledge that the last time she'd seen him, she and Patch had been harvesting apples when an impostor had led her to her almost death. But what could he be doing coming in through the front doors, and joining the line?

Her fathomless sapphire gaze flicked aside to Titan briefly while she settled a dispute over a loose mare having been covered by the other man's plow horse. The mare in this instance was a prized race-bred Courser, and the stallion was apparently not of the best breeding or conformation. How would her guardian react to Patch, she wondered. The two had never, in her knowledge, met. It would be interesting, she supposed.

Out in the hall, as the last supplicant before Patch left, a signed grant for land in hand and a giddy expression on his face, the herald gazed at the chestnut haired, presumably human man. "Your name, sir?" When given the name, he nodded, stepping to the door and slipping into the Hall, not letting the bemusement show on his face at giving such a name; "Ser.. Patch." At a nod from the Queen, he turned, pulling the door wide to admit the man, while knowing that his wife, one of the maids, would be giving him an earful tonight after she'd helped clean up the mud left behind by those boots.

The Queen's eyes glinted with amusement, having caught the faintest hint of a pause before saying Patch's name. Her eyes left the herald, settling on the man and giving him a swift once over with those fathomless sapphire pools, from the muddy boots, to the hand on the velvet case that held his cards, to the every present, wide grin on his face. "Patch." Warm welcome was evident in her tone of the name. Warmth and the faintest hint of wariness. What trouble had her adventuresome friend gotten himself into this time?