[Afternoon thoughts arouse fears of isolation and loneliness and press him to unfasten his collar; his throat heaving with quickened breathing and trepidation. Fingers fumble the keys on his device. A cold, uncomfortable sweat trickles down the bacl of his neck. It sees him curling his fringe around his finger as he calls his old friend.]
[He doesn't know why he answers the phone this time after ignoring it for so long. Perhaps it's the sheer length of time. Perhaps it's the simple fact that he hates the silence.
Regardless, there is audible discontent in his voice as he answers.]
[Perhaps It is definitely stubbornness that leads to no follow-up call, even hours after the fact. There is nothing else to be said as he returns to the house and immediately sets about growing vegetables in the garden.]
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10/14; afternoon
Hendrik. Is the Princess with you?
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Regardless, there is audible discontent in his voice as he answers.]
No. Why do you ask?
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[A promise of resolution for Hendrik's sake.]
She has not arrived.
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On the hour is not so long ago. You have tried contacting her?
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[So something is obviously wrong. His tone is too pressed to finish, hiding a deep frustration that makes no sense.]
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I will try to contact her as well. Thank you for telling me.
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[There is silence on his side, too. It lasts a moment before he sighs on his end of the call.]
It would surely be better she is late than to find ourselves considering the alternative.
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[Hendrik's voice goes flat again the moment something negative creeps into the conversation.]
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[With that, he hangs up.]
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PerhapsIt is definitely stubbornness that leads to no follow-up call, even hours after the fact. There is nothing else to be said as he returns to the house and immediately sets about growing vegetables in the garden.]