"He won? The King's own son?" Vilon asked, genuinely surprised.
"Aye, that he did. And what a victory it was too, the whole crowd went half mad over it. Never would've guessed an archery contest could prove so entertaining." The young man led the horses on toward a massive timber building that revealed itself, upon closer look, to be the stables. He had dirty, straw blonde hair cropped into a rough bowl cut, and spoke with the easy confidence of someone who'd told this particular story more than a few times already.
