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“As you very well know, our marriage is set to take place in this exact castle one week from today." You couldn't help but watch amusedly as the raven paced the chamber, his manicured talons clicking against the floor with a staccato cadence. “What do you think would happen if I don't make my best impression upon the elders?"

You were tempted to give him a sarcastic response, but you thought better of it in the moment. When he got like this, you had found the best way to talk him down was with a little honey, not vinegar. “Ambrose, we've pored over every last detail of the ceremony with the highest of scrutiny. I assure you that things will go as swimmingly as possible, so please, don't worry so much."

Ambrose didn't say anything, but his movement had grown a smidgen less erratic. You decided to seize the opportunity and fill the silence. “Besides, they say that stress makes you age rapidly. It would be a shame if the prince of the avians were to look any less than glamorous when he inevitably assumes the throne."

Rising from your seat, you reached out to stop the bird mid-pace by delicately patting his shoulder. As if disturbed from a nightmare, he leapt up with a jolt, his back muscles tense. Sighing, you spun him around to get a good look at his pretty face, which was done up with mascara and some eyeliner. “Come on, let's get some fresh air. I know you like your privacy and all, but it does nobody any good to stay cooped up in here for an eternity."

Meeting your eyes with his, Ambrose smiled, although not quite wholeheartedly. “Heh. Once again, Prince Onoma, you prove yourself to be the voice of reason. Although I do have to correct you—we've only been in here for thirty minutes. Hardly an eternity, to be certain."

Seemingly regaining a bit of pep in his step, he made his way to the door, the sapphire pendant around his neck bouncing against his chest. Anyone familiar with the avian kingdom knew that the wearer of this particular piece of jewelry was slated as the heir apparent. For Ambrose, just the thought of inheriting rule over such an influential region was enough to weigh heavily on his conscience. Despite being in a close relationship with him for over two years, you still found yourself struggling to assuage his fears, much to your lament.

Even in the dim light of the room, the gold-encrusted gem managed to gleam, mimicking the irises of the raven's expressive eyes. You trailed behind the raven, watching as he dismissed the royal guards waiting outside with an elegant flick of his dominant hand. Ambrose continued to lead as the two of you descended the several flights of stairs that dumped off at the main floor of the castle.

“So, where did you plan for us to go? Out in the courtyard, perhaps? The gallery? Wait…aha! I bet you were suggesting that we head to my bedroom—"

“Ambrose!"

“Sorry! I'm still learning how to interpret 'those' kinds of hints from human speech. I'm guessing that was not one of them."

“Yeah, no…anyway, Ambrose, I figured it would be best if we took a walk around town."

“Around town?" The bird scrunched up his face—rather, as best as one with a beak could hope to accomplish. “To be clear, I wouldn't say no to that, but I had not planned to journey outside of the castle today. Furthermore, I haven't even done up my hair!"

Although Ambrose's pendant was impressive, you almost felt compelled to declare that the raven's “hair" was far more so in its full glory. Made from the plumage atop his head, it had been shaped and grown out to the length of his shoulders and dyed white. Through extensive care and effort, it had developed a far silkier consistency than the rest of his feathers, and Ambrose was rightfully proud of how it looked whenever it was washed, styled, and dried. If he wanted to color the tips to match his gemstone, which was something done for special occasions, it took a couple of hours to get his hair totally the way he wanted it.

“Well, think of it this way. If you want to start sowing the seeds of approval from the townspeople and instill confidence in your leadership, you need to make more casual appearances in public. Most would only recognize you from the handful of formal speeches given on behalf of your father. From the safety of your own home, mind you. And something tells me it's hard to relate to someone who doesn't rub shoulders with the average civilian from time to time."

By now, the two of you had nearly made it to the bottom of the set of spiraling stairs. Taking notice of this, Ambrose skipped his way down the few steps, opting not to let you catch up. “Ah, preposterous! There's no need for such a thing! I'm perfectly comfortable staying here with you until the wedding—"

“AMBROSIUS!" you exclaimed with urgency, hoping to get through to him with his full name instead. “That is not how a prince is meant to carry himself, and I know you know that even within the deepest, darkest confines of your heart." Shaking your head, you felt as if you were walking on eggshells talking about…this with him.

You could hear a pin drop upon the cobblestone floor. With all of your being, you absolutely hated having to resort to yelling, but sometimes, it was the only viable tactic to get Ambrose to listen.

The raven trembled ever so slightly, and as he turned to face you, he made no attempt to hide that he had grown misty-eyed. “P-prince Onoma?"

“Yes?" Curses, here we go again.

“How could a flightless bird possibly instill confidence in his winged constituency?"

You had answered this question time and time again, but you had never been able to find the words that would satisfy him. Although he was by definition a raven, he had been born without wings, the circumstances of which were still not fully explained. What further exacerbated things was that his parents, both of the same species, were renowned for their skillful flight capabilities. Regardless of the occasion, these two had impressed many a people both inside and out of the avian kingdom with their grace and elegance in midair. Although Ambrose had had no choice in the matter, the missing appendages upon his back were a persistent blight upon his psyche.

“You do so with perseverance, Ambrose. You were born into the lap of luxury, but you still have to work to become something more than where you started, okay?"

“Prince Onoma, I trust in you wholly and completely. But I think you fail to understand the significance of my birth defect." The raven sat himself down on the lowest step, tacitly encouraging you to do the same. “If you take away a flying bird's wings, you make him, and excuse my language, a gimp. I've suffered for years trying to compensate—"

You sprung up immediately to interject. “Oh my goodness, Ambrose. You get to laze around the castle for days on end without any sort of personal responsibility, and you call that 'suffering'? Not to mention that we've been living in peacetime for decades. If you go back a century ago, there wasn't a day without horrific bloodshed across the world."

The bird weakly countered, “But that was a different era beyond comparison to ours…"

“They're comparable because those were our ancestors fighting in the territorial battles of yesteryear. Don't tell me you've forgotten your history so soon? The casualties inflicted led to a massive biological bottleneck for many species, ours included. Reproduction was seriously endangered until the salamander mages managed to craft alternative means—"

“I know…I know." Ambrose was as still as a statue, prompting you to seat yourself once more and run your fingers through his hair. He then cleared his throat. “It's shameful of me to wallow in my own pity, and it is unbecoming of someone who intends to rule. But my indulgence in a sheltered upbringing leaves me feeling less than competent."

“Ambrose, you're prone to downplaying yourself, but you're well aware you're a skillful orator. If anything, you'll first win over your people with your words, then continue to do so by your actions."

The raven took this opportunity to lie down, placing his feathery head in your lap. “Well, that's certainly easier said than done, no pun intended."

“No one ever said it was going to be easy."

“True."

“Just keep yourself composed, Ambrose. Focus on what's right ahead, not what's down the road."

“Okay." With a deep breath, he righted himself, rubbing his eyes. “Hey, Prince Onoma?"

“What is it?"

“If things get tough, will you stick by my side?"

“Of course. Don't worry; people are going to grow to like you, I'm sure of it."

“And if they don't?"

“Then I invite them to go fornicate themselves, posthaste."

Ambrose couldn't help but beam at that one. “What would I do without you, my love?" He embraces you tightly, rubbing the small of your back, and you return the favor.

“I do not know, and I am not daring enough to find out."

“Well, a day on the town, is it?" Ambrose remarked, getting up and dusting himself off. “I'll follow you wherever you want to go."

Once more on your feet, you grabbed his hand and yanked in the direction of the imposingly large front gate. “All right, then let's get a move on!"

He held his ground briefly, calling out to the men standing idly nearby. “We're off to take a walk outdoors. A small entourage accompanying us from behind would be most appreciated."

“Of course, Your Highness." The burliest of the lot, a red-tailed hawk, stepped forward, signaling to the rest of his reports.

Once the gate was drawn open, you took a few strides in lockstep with Ambrose beyond the interior of the castle walls, stopping on a dirt path. As the sun's rays poked through the clouds above, you couldn't help but feel that things were about to get very interesting in very short order.