Inspired by a Twitter post
Beneath the shade of an old oak tree on the banks of the Sázava, Hans and Henry had set their duties aside for a few precious hours. Behind them, Pirkstein rose above the rocky cliffs while the river gently lapped against the shore and a warm breeze swept through the meadow.
Henry sat in the grass with an open book resting on his knee, reading aloud. It was a Latin copy of an old legend, one whose story had long captured his interest, though its language still challenged him. Every so often he stumbled over a word, furrowing his brow as he attempted a pronunciation that was more guesswork than certainty.
“Not quite,” Hans said at last, looking up from his sketchbook. “Try again.”
Henry rolled his eyes, repeated the word, and was immediately corrected once more.
“You enjoy this far too much.”
“Someone has to make sure my bodyguard doesn’t remain completely uneducated. Henry, I consider it my duty to improve your education.”
“How generous of you, my lord.”
With a quiet grumble, Henry continued reading. His voice mingled with the gentle sound of the Sázava while Hans listened and sketched at the same time. He had intended to draw the castle behind them. Perhaps the landscape as well. Yet, as so often happened, his gaze kept drifting back to Henry. The familiar crease between his brows, the focused expression on his face, and the way his finger traced each line eventually found their way onto the page instead.
When Henry finally looked up, he caught the look Hans had been giving him.
“What are you drawing, anyway?”
Hans merely grinned and turned the sketchbook slightly in his direction.
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