ofcumberland:
it truly wasn’t an odd sight to find little mary perched on one foot in the middle of the garden. he had been talking to the stablehand about the well-being of his horse but as they parted it appeared to catch his cousin’s attention and her balance was lost.
“oh, mary,” he exclaimed, an apologetic smile gracing his harsh features, “i am woefully sorry, i’ve ruined your game.” to see the princess all grown up certainly reminded richard of his own age for he distinctly remembered the announcement of her birth, barely a couple years before his own son had entered the world. she was unique and for that, richard sometimes felt even more protective of her than he did the queen but his cousin could take care of herself, in truth. “will you let me make it up to you? any game you please and i promise not to let you win.” he offered, watching her expression closely for her response.
Rankling at the softness of her cousin’s tone, the princess did her best to school her features from disgust to annoyance, not opposed to the man who spoke them, but the wash of memories they brought. Too often the words were overly concerned, pitying.
Her eyebrows pulled up and her head tilted towards him, an acknowledgement of his company. Putting her feet back to rights (on the ground, firstly) Mary smoothed down her skirt, let one arm swing in a light circle, and tapped her index finger to her cheek.
Thinking! she mimed.
Then a smile split her face and she brought her palms together into an x, each side opposing the other, elbows out and parallel to her chest. After a moment of showing struggle between the two hands, she lowered one sharply til it lay flat in the air.
Mary pointed to herself, smacked a fist into her palm and gestured with one finger to their surroundings. Then, she pointed to herself, let the fist land again and pointed to Richard. She grinned. I beat everyone. I beat you, and began to look around for a flat surface, encouraging her cousin to the same.












