A Royal Send-Off
A single trunk. Really? Endymion stares at it, taking up far too little space on his floor. Everything he wants to bring with him needs to be condensed into that oh-so-tiny area. He makes a futile effort to squash down what's already in there, to make it more compact and leave him more room.
It doesn't work, leaving him to try tucking in the edges. Still no success. Finally, a servant wanders by to find Endymion suddenly casually sitting on the trunk. That works a little better and, once the servant moves on, Endymion quickly fastens the cords while he still has a chance.
They burst open a second later, spilling a few things, and the prince sighs. He seems frustrated, today. Or maybe petulant. He is forced to start over and occasionally, he stops his work to sigh, looking out the window where a bright night affords an excellent view of the moon.
Find out what he's packing for?
It doesn't work, leaving him to try tucking in the edges. Still no success. Finally, a servant wanders by to find Endymion suddenly casually sitting on the trunk. That works a little better and, once the servant moves on, Endymion quickly fastens the cords while he still has a chance.
They burst open a second later, spilling a few things, and the prince sighs. He seems frustrated, today. Or maybe petulant. He is forced to start over and occasionally, he stops his work to sigh, looking out the window where a bright night affords an excellent view of the moon.
Find out what he's packing for?