 Sauntering down the ground floor corridor with his hands in his pockets Tristan glanced out at the gardens through the leaded windows that lined the exterior wall of the passageway. The soft light of late afternoon cast long shadows across the paving stones as the large well-trimmed hedges stood guard over the perfectly trimmed lawns and raised flower beds. Tristan found it difficult to get excited about gardens; they were too neat, too structured, he preferred the wildness of Shaman's forests and woodland. The prince began to whistle as he descended a short flight of stairs to an open door which lead him out onto the western bank of Lake Lilith. Tristan however was not there for the lake, or the hedges, or the lawns and his boots carried him along a cobbled path towards the garden wall. It loomed into view, tall and imposing and Tristan freed a hand to wave at one of the guards standing watch from its summit. He took a sharp right and left the path behind him. Crossing the grass the prince passed beneath an ivy-covered arch into a small orchard. It was the furthest from the castle it was possible to be whilst still being within its boundaries.
Tristan came to a halt near to a line of shrubs and peered around. There was no one around; he could hear nothing but birdsong and the steady clip clip clip of someone's garden shears. It was so quite that he jumped when someone grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him into the bushes. The prince relaxed his grip on his dagger when, even before he had chance to regain his bearings, he was greeted with an enthusiastic kiss.
"You took your time," Megan hissed through a grin as she broke away, leaving her hand to linger against his chest.
"We were in some kind of hurry?" Tristan responded innocently as he moved his leg away from the thorny branch that had entangled itself around his ankle. When he was free the prince took Megan's face in his hands and returned the kiss, his hands finding their way to her hips. She rose up on tiptoe as they took a few steps further into the thicket. Megan pushed him away with a giggle, revealing the gap between her front two teeth which Tristan had recently begun to find enduringly, and inexplicably attractive.
"You know what my father's like," she said, tucking a strand of stray hair back behind her ear.
"I do," Tristan agreed, gathering up her hands to pull her closer again, "that's why we're in an orchard."
---
"Megan!" a loud (and angry) voice bellowed the sound carrying easily through hedge, stone wall and apple tree with ease, "Megan!"
"Ah, shit," Tristan muttered as Megan jumped away like a scolded rabbit and when he got a good look at her he noticed that her eyes were almost as wide. He was impressed when she whipped a comb out of the sleeve of her dress and began to run it urgently through her tousled hair. You really did have to admire the ingenuity of girls sometimes he thought as he leaned back against the nearest tree. What you didn't have to admire was the ingenuity of fathers; that was less impressive and more irritating by far.
"How do I look?" Megan asked as she put the comb away again. Tristan closed the space between them again and stole another kiss.
"Stoppit stoppit stoppit," Megan laughed, trying her best to stay quiet. The prince grinned, but obeyed. He was rewarded briefly before Megan gathered up her skirts and began to run, weaving her way through the trees. Cursing fathers everywhere Tristan ran his fingers through his hair; he didn't have Megan's problem, his hair was always suitably windswept. Arthur wouldn't even notice a difference.
Okay...Tristan thought, looking around himself again, now all he had to do was found his way back through the thorn bushes...
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