Rhys, as he promised, ignored Kerta for the entirety of the time it took for him to reach the courtyard. His meal had already been set up and covered by servants, sitting on the low lying table surrounded by cushioned chairs. The outdoor furniture might be just as lavish as anything inside, but they were built to last in the weather and were routinely replaced every year.
The Prince sat down with a sigh and simply lounged for a bit, eyes closed and head tipped back. The chirping birds were out in full force this morning, and he could hear the roaring of the nearby river.
Kerta observed the empty chairs by the table, wondering if he often had guests for breakfast and who would even want to eat lunch with him. Unsure where he wanted her, she stood by the far wall, guarding the main entrance to the courtyard. Glancing down at the good, she almost groaned at how good it looked. The basic breakfast for the Guard was a bowl or two of oatmeal that didn’t taste half bad; it wasn’t much, but it was filling.
"I can feel you hovering," Rhys said without opening his eyes. He didn't like hovering. It reminded him of haunting pasts waiting to pounce on him at any given moment. At least when she was trailing after him he could make her footsteps fade into the background. But now she was sitting still, but still watchful—like a nightmare just waiting for the perfect…
He sat up with a jolt, eyes flying open and nose flaring as he took a sharp breath in. Dangerous thinking, that was. Who knew what sort of embarrassing panic it would send him under, and in front of this pathetic knight no less. He was the Crown Prince, and princes didn't have panic attacks over silly nightmares. That was a child's phobia. Rhys hunched forward, elbows braced on his knees and fingers digging into his hair. He took steadying breaths—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat.
“Then where would you rather me stand, Prince,” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. What was she to do, dally around the courtyard, a threat taking her by surprise? She closed her eyes for a brief moment, calming herself down. This isn’t worth getting annoyed over.
But when Kerta opened her eyes, the Prince was bent over, hands in his hair. Looking around, she found nothing she thought that could possibly upset him. Taking a concerned step forward, she spoke with a gentle voice. “Prince, are you okay?”
He flinched when he heard her voice, instantly regretting the show of weakness—and every show of weakness he just displayed. She spoke so softly and gently as if he were on the verge of breaking. While that wasn't entirely untrue…
Rhys bristled and bit out, "Fine," as he sat up straight and focused on his food instead of his traitorous mind. He gave himself a few slow bites of food before he trusted himself to speak without a childish waver to his voice. "Walk around the perimeter, or whatever you knights do." He lazily waved his hand around in a circle above his head. His voice still had bite to it, but it was more forced than usual.
Kerta pursed her lips at the sharp ‘fine’ but straightened anyways, replying with a soft “As you wish,” That shows her for caring. She began to walk beside the crumbling cobblestone wall, stepping over sticks and other such things that were in her way. 18…19…20, turn.
Her steps were equal and precise, always in the same place. As she walked, she glanced at the far side where the garden was. Flowers of every shade and hue were planted around the winding path, and she was reminded briefly of how her siblings would love them. God, she missed them.
Realizing she stopped for a moment, Kerta shook her head, effectively clearing it, and resumed her walking.
Rhys let out a heavy sigh when Kerta was out of earshot, fingers rapidly tapping the table in an unclear pattern. It was getting worse, and he didn't know what it meant. The memories and nightmares were haunting him more and more lately; his walls crumbled to the ground in a pile of dust just like that. No matter how high or how sturdy he built them, there was always someone bigger, someone better than him just around the corner, ready to smash it all to pieces in one blow.
"I'm being childish," he muttered to himself, shaking his head angrily and digging into his food without ceremony, shutting out everything around him, even Nox's pestering for a piece.
Kerta glanced at the Prince as he spoke to himself, but kept on walking. She supposed she had bothered him enough for one day. For a moment she wondered why his walls were so high; there was no questioning that there was a reason by he was so hostile to her. Shouldn’t he at least try to befriend her? Kerta was the one protecting him anyways.
But she knew that if he was either mean or nice to her, she would protect him to the same level anyways. It was her first vow as being in the Guard anyways; ’Protect the Royal family to the end of the line.’ Funny how she still remembered every word of it.
Nox gave up on Rhys and flew over to Kerta, landing on her shoulder and flapping his wings to catch his balance. He nosed about her armor, searching for any snacks or shiny things he could take from her. Rhys flicked his eyes up at the raven when he flew away, then snorted when he saw the guard being pestered instead.
The prince was feeling a little better, but he still refused to confide in the guard that had been forced on him. He's never told the Queens about these nightmares before, either, so it was no surprise he would keep it a secret from a stranger. He idly ate his food, sometimes pushing it around for a bit to think.
Kerta paused in her walk, waiting for Nox to settle before turning to the raven. “Hello pretty bird,” she said softly, reaching a finger up to rub the back of his head. “You’re looking for snacks, aren’t you?” Her eyes flickered around the courtyard, searching for any fruit growing that she could give him. Her gaze landed on a cherry tree, and she started to walk slowly towards it, trying not to disturb Nox.
Reaching up, her fingers brushed the lowest branch, the cherry barely an inch from her fingertips. Huffing, Kerta tried again, this time on her tiptoes. She successfully grabbed the stem and pulled down slightly, the cherry releasing from the branch. “Here you go,” she held out the cherry to Nox.
Nox cawed in thanks, gobbling up the cherry with gusto. While Rhys was slow to warm up to people, his raven was quite the people-bird, always interacting with someone that would give him attention. Once the cherry was devoured, he tucked himself under her chin in a brief, hug-like gesture, then flew around the garden, always circling back to Kerta.
Rhys finished his food, and just in time, as a servant approached him to take away the food. He glanced over at the guard, then pulled the servant down and whispered something in their ear. The servant nodded quickly and scurried away. Rhys stretched out with a yawn, then stood up and searched the grounds of the usual herd of deer.
Kerta smiled softly at the bird flying around. She wished she could have a pet like that, but unfortunately the castle cat would have to do, even though he had his own agenda most of the time.
Seeing the Prince get up and move, she drifted towards him, but not so close that he would feel like she was hovering. Kerta recalled him not liking it, and it was in her best interest to not do what his obvious dislikes. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable around her; they were going to be seeing a rather lot of each other and she’d rather them be comfortable than on their toes all the time.
Rhys knew the knight was following him, but he didn't verbally object as he ducked under tree branches and wondered around, turning his head this way and that in search of the herd. They usually came out right about now. Could it be because of the knight? Unlikely, as they never showed any signs of being shy around humans, but very well a possibility. Deer also didn't exactly have a sense of time like humans did, so it was also possible they just were running a bit late.
He didn't mask what he was doing, but he didn't announce it to the world, either. If the knight wanted to know what he was doing, she could ask and get a 'you'll see' in answer. The deer here were almost magical, in a sense. The herd has been around the castle grounds for generations, and there always seems to be at least one albino one in it. Rhys didn't concern himself with the probability of that happening, simply let himself admire the gentle creatures.