Escape by a Hair

Hi there, bookworms!
I just realised, there are a few things on  my last post I probably need to clarify. Firstly, I should probably let you know that I was practising my 'council of Elrond' tone in the first few sentences, in preperation for my Lord of the Rings review. Then I sort of forgot about that for the rest of the post, hence the change from the 'you are doomed' tone to a more casual voice.
Secondly, I started writing that post last Monday, but didn't finish it. I banned myself from my computer for the next few days because of assessments due for my classes in the following days, hence I didn't get the post up until Thursday. I thought I would say that just to let you all know that I am at least making an effort to post more regularly, even if it appears I am not.
Anyway, to the actual point of this post. A while back, I introduced you all to a friend of mine named Henry (see here). King Henry the Tenth of Destria, to be precise. Of all the characters I have devised in my stories, he is by far my favourite. Watching him learn what it means to be a king, through many tantrums, arguments and discussions, has been the most enjoyable writing experience I have ever been a part of.
I've been thinking a bit, and I've missed Henry a fair bit. I think he needs to play a far greater part in this blog. So... I'm going to be posting a few short stories on here centred around my pal.
Some of them will also involve other main characters from the Kingdom of Destria, such as Sam, Will and Petra (three teenagers who slew the usurper keeping Henry in prison for five years), James (Henry's best friend and only companion during his imprisonment), and Neville (Henry's valet being his formal position, although 'Castle Mum' would perhaps be a more fitting name).
So, without further ado...

'Escape by a Hair'

King Henry the Tenth, ruler of the Kingdom of Destrian, flung open the door and, slamming it behind him, darted into the room beyond.
From where he was sitting at his desk, James looked up.
“Nice of you to knock,” he remarked with a wry smile.
“No time for sarcasm!” Henry snapped exasperatedly. “Just hide me somewhere!”
Truth be told, James almost laughed at his best friend’s ripped clothes, dirty face and wild hair that was sticking up in all directions. He looked more like a highway robber than a king! However, the hunted look in Henry’s normally even, measuring gaze made James uneasy and he found himself escorting the king to a wardrobe in the corner of his room.
Soon, Henry was comfortable (that is to say, as comfortable as one can be when squashed into the bottom of a closet) and James shut the door of the wardrobe.
“So, is there any reason as to why the King of Destrian barged into my room looking like a beggar?” James asked casually. “I mean, you look as if you’ve been in a stampede!”
“I have,” came Henry’s muffled reply.
“Care to explain?”
“No.”
James waited patiently for ten seconds.
“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. But you mustn’t breathe a word to Neville about this!”
“I won’t,” James promised with a smile. Neville was Henry’s personal valet, a short, blustering man who was constantly mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. He had good intentions, but was rather a worry wart. Whenever Henry was so much as scratched from battle training, the poor man acted as if the world was coming to an end!
“I was attacked,” Henry began.
James’ ears perked up. Attacked! Perhaps the assailant was in the castle that instant, about to burst into the room and demand to know where the king was!
“By whom?” He was unable to hide the curiosity in his voice.
Henry proceeded to tell his friend the whole story from the beginning, and James listened with mixed sympathy and horror. How close it had been! How lucky he had been to escape!
“......and there was not one, but two of them, James! And they were both fighting over me, pulling me this way and that as if I were a rag doll!”
“It sounds horrible!” Disgust was plastered all over James’ face.
At that moment, Neville burst into the room.
“James, you - well - have you seen - is Henry around?” blustered Neville.
James adopted his best puzzled face. “No, haven’t seen him all morning, actually. But he is 21 years old. I expect he can look after himself.
Neville wasted no more time, rushing out of the room.
Cautiously, Henry crept out of the closet. “Thank you so much, James!”
James shrugged. “What are friends for?”
Suddenly, Henry frowned. “Just one question: how will I escape the royal hairdressers tomorrow?”

THE END

So that is Henry early on in my novel, before wars break out and such. :) You can tell me what you think about my story if you like, but I'm not desperate for the feedback. I'm just using this blog as motivation to write a bit more in my spare time.
Anyway, that's all I really have time for, so there you go.
Yours Sincerely,
~SON
P.S. Please comment, even if it's only to say "Hi!"