 They were fashionably late and so, by the time they arrived, the fair was in full swing. The crowd was buzzing with activity; stall owners called out to the passing populace as children darted back and forth across the path. Tristan smiled over at Thea and gave her hand a squeeze as they stepped away from the edge of the party and joined the thronging masses. He could hear the heavy booted footsteps of the two guards who tailed them, glancing from left to right with watchful eyes but the prince did his best to ignore them. He'd give it half an hour or so and then give them the slip. It shouldn't be too difficult in such a busy place.
It was refreshing to be able to walk around in public without having people stop to bow or tug at the brim of their hats. Tristan however was well-versed enough in being watched to be aware of the fact that he and Thea were still attracting their fair share of stares.
"Anything you want to check out?" he asked Thea with a smile, "any good at apple bobbing?" Tristan nodded towards the crowd that had gathered around a ridiculously over-sized wooden barrel surrounded by flickering lights. The crowd were laughing, and a boy a couple of years younger than him was staggering away, drenched from the chest up.
"Alternatively," Tristan said taking hold of Thea's hand again and leading her away from the excitement of the game stalls, "I brought this." The prince reached into the inside pockets of his long coat and pulled out two old-fashioned drinking flasks. He passed one to Thea with a wink and began to unscrew the lid of his own. Throwing his head back he took one long swig. The spirit burned the back of his throat, leaving him with a warm feeling at the top of his chest. One of the uniformed guards stationed at the perimeter of the party was looking at them over Thea's shoulder. Tristan turned his back on him and slipped the flask back into his pocket.
"I swear," he muttered in an undertone as his two personal guards emerged from the shadows, "it's like having a Father at every damn exit."
He removed his tri-corn hat as they headed back down the hill. It was a frosty evening, but the sheer mass of bodies pressing in on all sides were making it uncomfortably warm. Tristan found himself wishing he'd chosen a costume involving a less substantial coat. They didn't sell ice at Halloween parties did they? Hell, the apple-bobbing idea wasn't looking quite so silly anymore.
Thump. Tristan looked over to his left and saw an untidy pile of person on the ground a few metres away. Apparently they'd fallen off their horse...their very striking and recognisable horse.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, changing direction to close the gap between them as the woman climbed back to her feet.
"Get an early start on the cider?" he teased, "frowned at whilst on-duty, isn't it?"
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