Here are the results! And, mind you, this is just as I wrote it, freestyle and such, so please excuse the errors! XD
Paper to pen, pen to paper?
Emelio mulled the phrase over and again in his whispy blond head, attemptimng to lodge in himself some semblance of the teaches Master Yule had constantly pounded inot him. It was a tiring time for him, a boy whose passion was galloping away on his proud ebony horse “nightengale”. He often savored those sweet afternoon hours far from home and the dreary, suffocating castle.
But today he was stuck in the vice-like grip of Yule again and his professor was not going to let him out any time soon. In fact, the more Emelior stared at the clock the more he could notice each slight turn on the hand and how positively slow it moved. Why was time like that? Fast when one was having fun and yet soooo slow when one was in the midst of a moody professor?
“Finished your puzzle yet, Prince?” that high pitched man-voice spilled across Emelio's desk and all at once the young man stared up at the thin and gaudy sir before him.
Professor Yule was never one for the finer things in life. His clothes were stark black with a strange scarf of emearald adorned around him. He always kept himself completely straight and constantly reminded Emelio of some sort of board. The kind that never bent, but always seemed to break under pressure.
Of course, Emilio had yet to find that pressure point to break this teacher of his. Instead he let his eyes dart across the piece of parchment before him and shifted his shoulder sweekly. Professor Yule bent down and let a thin fineger scrape across the words, his beady eyes studying the contents curiously. Finally, with a hugff he looked back onto his student and sighed.
“There really is no use, is there? The bright young son of Lord Karver and yet I can't find any clever wit to be had in your homework. Nothing, but day dreaming about horses and sunbathing in the foothills of Mor. It's apparent to me that you will accend to the ranks fo court jester before you ever make it to “King”.
Emilio straightened himself and glowered at this teacher. Through gritted teeth he mocked a smile and a low bow, which nearly made his chin touch his desk.
“I'm so veeerrrryyy sorry your most aspiring Profeesssoor!” He excalaimed. “It would appear to me that my humble and weak mind paired with yours can only cause me to wither and stale. Perhaps I am far too much a fool to be your student. Perhaps you should explain this to my father, that he fathered an idtio who cannot be taught by this most cunning and demanding teacher. Perhaps then he will realize YOU are the crown prince and YOU deserve the throne more than I.”
Professor Yule sniffed carefully and something most peculior happened. He swept himself a bow far lower than that which Emilio had trained into. When he rose again there was something almost mischevious in those eyes of his. And when he spke his voice was strong and even.
“Oh, no no your majesty. A throne is never what I desire or deserve. I need only a student willing to learn and I will find myself at peace. You see, only such a modest and careful soul as I would dare to harbor a need to see Prince Emilio actually learning his studies instead of attempting to spoil his latest tutor.”
Emilio blaunched and went back to his lessons.
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