"Thank you, Your Majesty." He bowed. Sabbas followed alongside King Edward. His arms swayed slightly at his sides. Normally he would have his hands behind his back, but he was concerned that the king and guards would be receiving mixed signals. It is amusing how back at home he would walk with King Francisco and Prince Alejandro alone, even at night. Still, he has to remind himself that this is not home. Technically, he is not in friendly or completely safe territory. While keeping his eyes forward, he would occasionally glance around before staring straight ahead again.
It did not take long to wind through the hallways and make it out to the gardens. The guard remained close, but far enough away that any conversation would not be heard, provided that neither Sabbas nor Edward was being overly loud with their speech.
Sabbas glanced over his shoulder. His eyes wandered back over to the king. A gentle smile pressed on his face. "You know, Your Majesty, I used do this back in Spain all the time. I walked with His Majesty and His Highness." Running his fingers through his hair, he exhaled. "It's all the same. Beautiful gardens, a warm sun, a walk with a great monarch whom I look up to. Funny, how it's all the same."
He smiled a little. "Yes, the weather is nice for once. It isn't always this sunny here in Merry olde England." He laughed a little bit. "We have luck and God on our side today, and have been blessed with this wondrous sun." The gardens were indeed lovely, adorned with roses and lilies and many flowers native to England, and a precious amount that had been carefully transplanted from other countries.
"Before I left, I was told that it rains quite frequently here. I find it difficult to believe my king. The sun must be trying to trick me." Sabbas exhaled deeply as he glimpsed down at the flowers. Holding out his right hand, he let his fingertips lightly brush the flowers as he passed by them. In his mind, he tried naming them all, but every single name was in Spanish, not English. "Are you fond of gardening, Your Majesty? Or is it a hobby that Her Majesty is interested in? These gardens are marvelous."
He laughed softly. "The sun is luring you into a false sense of safety, and then it shall rain for a month straight." he remarked. "And I do not generally have the time to garden. Her Majesty does enjoy it on occasion, as a hobby, but for the most part these gardens are taken care of by our Head Gardener, a Mr. Benedict Lorensfield."
"A month? I hope you are kidding, Your Majesty. I know I was warned about the rain here, but wow, how the fact it can rain endlessly like that bewilders me still." Sabbas threw his head back with laughter. When he took a deep breath, he noticed a vibrant blue flower as they passed by it. He glimpsed over at the king, looking into his eyes. "Well, Mr. Lorensfield must have taken inspiration for your gardens from you, my king. Each flower more handsome than the last."
He let out a soft laugh at the compliment, gaze flickering from the flowers to Sabbas. "The sky's ability to rain is one that confounds many." he replied, laughing again. "But, ah, as for the inspiration…perhaps he does. I would not know. I only know that he has created beauty within this garden."
Sabbas glanced over at King Edward, giving a bright beam. He bit the inside of his lip as a thorn from a rose had pricked his finger. Naturally he would swear in his mother tongue, but no matter the language, most of the time people can detect swears. On the other hand, he does not want to ruin the moment. He does not want to interrupt thr time that His Majesty had put aside for him. So, he held his hands in front of him, pressing the pricked finger between his left thumb and index. "Really? Even with those bright blue perennials and the hydrangeas over there, my king?" He asked. "Beauty always inspires beauty. It is always fascinated by others handsomely."
Edward hummed very faintly. "I am sure he has been inspired by God to create these wonders. It would be pride and vanity for me to claim that I am the inspiration of these beautiful gardens." he replied. God. That was a safe enough subject for now. Not on matters of doctrine, granted, but on the matter of His existence, of everything He did.
"I must concur with you on that, Your Majesty." He grinned. Sabbas glimpsed around at the other flower and plants ahead of them. God, an interesting follow in his regard. Staring down at his hand, he sighed. He tried to add pressure, but he felt a little odd. Shaking his head, he kept on as normal. "God is the ruler of all, and Your Majesty is the ruler of Great Britain. It wouldn't necessarily be too much vain to claim some of the inspiration, but that question is left for Mr. Lorensfield, I suppose."
Edward shrugged his shoulders a little bit. "Yes, well, I don't know about that." he replied, running a hand through his hair. "I do not wish to claim to be the inspiration, not when I do not know for certain. I believe we should leave that question for Mr. Lorensfield." his gaze flickered to Sabbas's hand, and he tipped his head. "Is your hand alright?"
"And so we shall, my king. I look forward to strolling around these gardens throughout my time here." The grin on his face persisted, although it was slightly dimming due to his hand and the inner turmoil over it. "Sorry, Your Majesty?" Sabbas looked back at his hand; he tried to hide it, but there was no use. Slightly removing the other, he could see bits of blood. He sighed, "I might have accidentally got pricked by one of those beautiful roses as we were walking by. Sorry, Your Majesty."
Edward inhaled softly, and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it out to Sabbas. "Here you are, Sir Valiente." he said. "You may use that to help staunch the bleeding, if you like." the handkerchief was clean and fresh, not having been used yet.
Sabbas stopped for a moment. His eyes looked at King Edward then down at the handkerchief. A wave of shame overcame him all of the sudden. Why did he have to be so foolish now? There never is any gain in him acting so stupid. Rolling his shoulders back, he took the handkerchief and bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I appreciate your kindness." At first, he was hesitant to use it, but slowly, he placed it down on the bleeding and pressed on it. "Shall we continue on, my king?"
Edward nodded. "Of course. If your hand shows any further trouble, we can head back inside and have someone take care of it." he doubted that a prick from a thorn would need serious medical attention, but then again, perhaps it would. One couldn't always tell. He began walking again after a moment.
"I believe that it will be alright. Thank you, Your Majesty." Unconsciously, he bit the inside of his cheek; whether it be from his hand or out of some sort of shame. Sabbas won't admit to any of it. He has gone through worse than getting pricked by a flower, and he knows that he will go through even worse matters. His eyes glimpsed down at the handkerchief. He sighed.
Edward continued to lead Sabbas through the garden, quiet as he looked over the flowerbeds and hedgerows, the plants and flowers and trees that populated the place.
Heat coursed through his veins, probably out of shame and sheer embarrassment. Sabbas didn't want to admit any of it to anyone. All of these beautiful flowers and trees, they gave him a deeper wound in his chest that he could not describe. The king's presence gave some weight to it, and yet, Sabbas wished he had someone to admire all of this with him. Every single little flower and tree as they wandered through. Despite all the turmoil inside him, he continued to carry himself with pride; even if it was a little false.
Edward smiled a little bit, humming a little as they continued through the garden. "I may have asked this question already, but what sort of gardens do you have in Spain?" he asked, glancing back at the Spaniard walking in the garden with him.
He did his best to remember what the gardens looked like back in Madrid. Of course his mind went to Málaga first, particularly at his parents' estate. All look tremendously beautiful, especially at night. If they did not shine underneath the stars as parties waged until the fourth hour the next day, then in Alejandro's words, "they are not blessed by the heavens."
"They are sights only worthy for men like us, that is what I was told. Vast with pools of water. Trees stand at each corner of this one pool of water in front of the palace. Shrubbery is something Her Majesty and many like my father love to have in theirs. Some have flowerbeds scattered around while others have many," He recalled, motioning to a flowerbed as they passed by. "In Madrid, Her Majesty has their flowers changed every now and then to celebrate something. When I was last there, they were changed to Valencia red roses to celebrate Prince Alejandro's newborn daughter. She also had some blue geraniums too. Gardens there are meant to serve the purpose of celebration, or just as a refuge from parties, I suppose."
He nodded slightly. "Of course. Our gardens here change only sometimes, for very grand occasions. When I took the throne, for instance, there were changes, and upon my marriage there were other changes. For the most part, though, it is mostly unchanged."
Sabbas looked about the garden as King Edward spoke. He wondered how long had it been since the last time it was changed. Some light blue flowers shined below him, captivating his eyes. "Well, Your Majesty, perhaps you should never change those," He motioned to the flowers. "They are as beautiful as your eyes. I really do enjoy the sight of them." With his free hand, he let the side of it gently brush against the flowers. Under his breath, he whispered, "Eres tan guapo."
Edward smiled a little bit at the Spaniard's words, inclining his head and looking over at the flowers. "They are lovely." he agreed, though he had not caught Sabbas's whispered phrase, nor, even if he had, would he have necessarily known the meaning of it. He looked up at the sky for a moment, taking in the soft clouds that were scattered across it.
His eyes looked up at the sky as well. The clouds stood still as if they were watching below. Even the sky looks pretty too, yet there is only one view that truly does captivate him. Sabbas exhaled as he went back to gazing down at the handkerchief covering his hand. There was a small blood stain on it; how could his servants ever get it out?
Speaking of the devil, he caught one of them in the corner of his eye. He was rushing over towards them then hesitated when seeing His Majesty; the servant was holding a letter. Sabbas held his hand out, motioning for the servant to wait. "My king, I apologize for the sudden change, but I received correspondence from home that I must attend to. Is it alright if I leave?"
