King Louis Creative Writing

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As he came into sight, Noelle's fingers tightened on her father's shoulder and she leaned forward, peering as if that might cut the yards between them to mere feet that she might better see his face. Misinterpreting her gesture, Noelle's father, King Louis, reached up and patted the top of her hand reassuringly. "Still yourself, Noelle. There are many guards between us and him and he poses danger only by his existence and his symbolism, not by sword and lance." Her father's fingers were fat with indulgence, flesh bulging around the many rings he wore, and if the fashion at court ran to thick beards it was only because Louis wore one to hide his chins. The South was so rich compared to the stark yet beautiful North and its prosperity gave rise to many vices such as the gluttony of her father and the feeling of decadence in the Court that had in part fostered the revolt. Hard men, lean fighting men who daily pitted themselves…show more content…
Tall for a woman, taller than most peasant men and nearly as tall as noble ones, she was slender rather than curvaceous and had a fine grace of breeding and the poise of her station about her. Her eyes locked on Sir James and seemed to wash in and out of the whites as passing clouds obscured the sun. There was no fear in them but there was something strong in their depths though it remained impossible to discern. Noelle took another step forward and Sir James mount, a warhorse that would have normally been at risk of braining her with a hoof strike, simply lowered its exhausted head and rested it against the Princess' breast, her hands coming up to cradle the velvet muzzle and stroke it with simple love.

Noelle looked over the muzzle and back at Sir James, then held out her right hand, eyes flicking to the reins he held, silently asking that he give them over to
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