TITLE: THE LEGEND OF TARN GIRE
GENRE: MG Fantasy
Prince Agmund burst through the iron gate, tripped over a tree’s massive root, and then flew, arms flailing, until he slapped the ground. Smacking his lips like a fish out of water, he inched onto hands and knees until he could breathe freely. Yes, he was in trouble, so escape was essential, but he didn’t have to run, and he doubted anyone would interrupt a visit with his mother. The simple round stone wasn’t far outside the castle gardens, but no one knew he went there.
Cold air stung his face, and he covered what he could while he fought against the wind. When he reached the spot, he dropped down, gathering his knees to his chest. An icy gust rummaged through his curls, and he closed his eyes letting his mind wander back in time. Smiling, he touched the stone, but the damp coldness was a painful reminder—his mother couldn’t help him with his father any longer.
He heard shuffling behind him. “Yer Highness, Balthasar is lookin’ for yeh.”
They did know where to look for him. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”
“Aye, Yer Highness.”
His lesson … he forgot. This wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but his father was joining them.
The maidservant hugged her cloak and scurried back to the castle while Agmund stood.
“So, King Ulrich Kingston’s son is a muddle-brained twit,” he announced.
Bud tipped branches bobbed in agreement, and he could almost hear his mother laughing.