Making Nice ; Kenny and Stan
There were a lot of things that Stan had said he'd never do, only to have his metaphorical vows broken; meeting the princess was one of them. He'd never intended to even see her, but curiosity and anxiety got the best of him. It was hard to resist knowledge when it was being withheld from him, especially by his own king. He felt betrayed, almost, and his pride was more than a little bit chipped.
Regardless, upon seeing King Kyle with the princess, he had begun to write up a message for her, a quick note he had slipped to her when nobody was looking or cared enough to question. The directions had been simple: meet him at the Giggling Donkey at a disclosed time to discuss personal matters. Looking back, that seemed a bit sketchy, but that was precisely the reason he chose the tavern as his meeting place. He didn't want her to feel threatened by someone who meant no harm, and as far as he knew, he meant no harm.
He waved a hand, beckoning for mead while he waited. He'd downed a pint already, but he was getting increasingly concerned that the princess hadn't accepted--or worse, that she had told someone of their arranged meeting. What if his intentions were misinterpreted? What if he was suspected of treason? Surely there would be little dispute. He was a human, after all, and he'd been trusted doubtfully. The mead arrived, which he was thankful for. Still, there was not much else he was capable of than waiting. So he waited.
