Today was the day that the princes had to attend the court for the all the peasants of Stalnan. Silender absolutely hated Court day. The peasants were always disgusting. Their clothing was always in dirty and patched or holey. They were too loud and very rude. The worst part was the smell. They smelled as though a donkey had taken a piss on them; a drunk had barfed on them; they had rolled in cat litter; and then they had let it ruminate on their clothing for several weeks. It was hard to take their complaints seriously when his eyes watered whenever they came near. However, his dad was King Calumin, and the king required that the many princes attend Court once a month. Silender just hoped that he would be able to take the seat on the king's right, which was as far as he could get from the peasants. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. As the eldest, it wouldn't be too hard, but one never knew if one of the younger ones was going to overassert their own power.
Silender slid out from underneath his warm goose-down quilt into the cold stale air of his room. He frowned at the coolness on his bare skin. Why hadn't Ephraim come to light the fire yet? He crossed the cool dank floor, his bare feet sticking to the tiles. Without the fire lit, the room was incredibly dark. Somehow he managed his way to his closet and grabbed his clothing. He quickly pulled his soft linen undershirt over his head, followed by his black velvet shirt with silver embroidery. He slid his legs into his trousers so quickly he nearly fell over. The he began to run to the great hall, stuffing his feet into his boots as he went. He paused a moment before the door to straighten himself out a little and lace up his boots, then marched in. His leather boots barely making any noise on the stone floor, he walked slowly to the gilded throne on King Calumin's right side. He seated himself and waited for the king to enter the great hall and begin the Court session.
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