The young Prince.
Early in the morning, Prince Alfonso sparred with Ser Roderick, the castle's master-at-arms. It was a hot morning, but the old knight refused the young prince any accommodation. They both wore full suits of armour, helms included. He was of firm convictions, and he thought training the boy gently would only make him soft.
They were practising half-swording, the prince disliked it, said it wasn't elegant. But Roderick didn't care about elegance. His duty was to train Alfonso, not to cater to his needs. Half-swording could prove useful for him one day.
"Feet wider apart, my prince!" He shouted at the red-haired boy from under his helm. "A weak stance makes for weak blows!"
"I know! I know!" Alfonso said, watching the older knight through the narrow slits of his golden visor. He felt exhausted as heat built up beneath his helm, and sweat ran down his brow. He had never cared much for fighting. He liked hunting, riding, playing the lute, and poetry. Then again, he was a prince, and he had to learn how to fight. People said he was a capable swordsman—better than most, they claimed. He didn’t believe a word of it. In his mind, a good fighter didn't make mistakes. A good swordsman wouldn't ever lose to an old knight like Ser Roderick. His brother, Charles, already sparred with the kingsguard. He was a prodigy when it came to fighting.
Above the walls of the courtyard, King Ferdinand watched his youngest son as he sparred with Ser Roderick. At his side stood Lord Ahman Al-Kahf, his closest friend and most trusted advisor.
"Look at him. At his age, his brother already sparred with two knights at a time-" he began saying. He loved his son. He loved all his children, but he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed that his youngest wasn't as gifted as his eldest.
"But he's not his brother now, is he? And he's still young, only eight and ten, he can improve." Ahman cut him off, as always, the voice of reason. He had a soft spot for the redhead prince, always had.
"He isn't, but still. When I was young-" Ferdinand began to complain again, and once again, was cut short by his friend.
"He isn't you either, Ferdinand. He's a fair young man, and he is good at many things." he countered. It was true, the boy was a great archer and he had a talent for music and for writing. He was a sensible young man. He would have made a fine king, Ahman often thought. But then again, he was the third born, second in line to the throne behind his older brother.
"You're right, Ahman, as always." Ferdinand conceded. Maybe he was too hard on the boy. But who could blame him? He only wanted the very best for his son. He looked so much like his beloved Catherine, with her fiery red hair and her green eyes. The other two had inherited Ferdinand's features, but Alfonso—his youngest—was unmistakably hers.
"I've got a proposition for you, friend. Let's walk." Ahman said suddenly, snapping him out of his train of thoughts and leading him along the battlements.
"Yes?" He asked, walking beside his friend.
"You know how our houses have never gotten along. We are historic rivals." Ahman stated.
"Yes, yes, that's true. But it ended with us, didn't it? Our friendship ended that rivalry." Ferdinand said. He was sure of it. No feud would arise while they were there to prevent it.
"Indeed, my friend, it did break it. But only for as long as we live. After that—Charles, hates my sons, and they aren't fond of him either." Ahman said, voice tainted with disappointment. They had both hoped, when they were young, that their children would grow up as brothers and end the strain permanently.
"What do you suggest, Ahman?"
"I suggest a marriage. Alfonso and Noor are close in age, and she is still a maiden. None of them hold grudges against the other, and it would join our houses, at least for another generation." Ahmed said, already knowing what Ferdinand's answer would be.
"Ah, so it was that, my friend! I will give it thought, be sure of it." Ferdinand said, patting his friend on the back and smiling. Ahman allowed himself the faintest smile. Ferdinand always said he would "think on it" before making any important decision. In all the years they had known each other, it had almost always meant yes.
OOC: Sorry for the long text, I wanted to include it all in one post. Sorry if it's not written correctly as well, just wanted to add some family lore. Noor is Ahman's youngest daughter btw, didn't include it in the text cause it didn't feel natural, Ferdinand wouldn't need to be told so, because he already knows her.