He needn’t have worried, for Somnus’ smile only grew as he replied with the steady and confident voice of one secure in his command. It reassured him, this easy certainty, the well-built walls, the prompt welcome…everything thus far was orderly, as it should be, and Jericho had no doubt that wandering into this golden king’s domain had been a stroke of luck. He was grateful for it, along with the promise of food and shelter. Though the sovereign had graciously waved off his offers to earn his keep, the young stallion intended to find some way of thanking him for his hospitality. It was not lost on him that Somnus was right; winter was fast approaching, and the invitation to stay removed a considerable burden from his shoulders. For now though, good manners and a smile of his own were all he had to offer.
“Thank you,” he replied, “I appreciate the offer, Sovereign—of a place to rest and of a tour. I have to admit, I was curious about what lay behind the walls of this citadel. It presents quite a mystery from outside. I’ve never seen anything quite its equal.” And it was true. He’d heard of palaces before, of course; many from his homeland had spoken of them, but Jericho had grown up running amongst ruins. Once, perhaps there had been a great fortress like this, but no spires were left standing (if there had ever been any to begin with). He only knew crumbling platforms, well-worn steps, and the chipped columns that presided like proud old guards over the Council’s meeting place. Any other architecture he had seen had likely been ferreted away from its original place and resurrected in the form of the weaponmakers’ eccentrically-built workshops and forges. His homeland had a grandeur of its own, nestled in the mountains, but to be fair, it had nothing like this.
Thus assured of his welcome, he moved closer to the king, ready to fall in step just behind him at his signal. He continued to keep a watchful eye on the owl. While she appeared to be preening innocently enough, he’d decided that he’d rather not be startled by her again and chance betraying any of his less dignifying reactions. For one still so young, Jericho’s manner was rather serious. The momentousness of the occasion had swelled in his breast, and though there was still plenty of tender naivete left in the boy, he did his best to conceal it. He was well on his way to becoming a man now, and he dearly wanted to impress the kindly king before him. He’d make a name for himself yet.
