In the Name of a Queen

[Falcon]

Anton made no move to change his position when her hand landed on his knee, finding that while he did not believe Anne understood the implications of where she rested her hand, or at least not immediately, letting her keep that placement gave him a window of opportunity to test her resolve. How long she left it there would tall him a great deal, at least as much as what she did after.

He said nothing after her little speech, only watched, waited, and quirked an eyebrow. Sometime silence was just as good a tool as words. Perhaps if he let her continue to talk little Anne would let something slip. And then she leaned back on her hands, the manner of the movement stating that there had been some intention in it, and he knew. Anne did not desire him, but she wanted him to think she did. Pity she did not have more experience, she might have managed to fool him, but she had not. Still, she wanted something pretty badly to go this far, and knowing that gave him every advantage. No longer was he working for her hand, she was to some extent now chasing him. Well if she wanted to play the game then the game they would play. He would make her wait, make her try harder, attempt new methods and in a week, maybe two, he could be assured of his success when he asked for her hand. Besides, the anticipation and tension brought about by their mutual teasing would make it that much more pleasurable when he finally brought her into his bed.

He let his eyes scan down the front of her torso, let his smirk make it plain that for a moment he was considering what might be beneath the violet cloth, "I could give you the massage," he nearly purred, "but for that you'd need to put your back to me." He waited for her to get settled before he reached out, letting his hands stroke the length of her back before setting to work and expertly working out the knots. His fingers were long and nimble, without a callus on them. They were hands that had never known a day's hard work in their life, and yet they somehow found each and every kink, slowly and methodically rubbing them out. This was something he obviously had some practice at.

"As for a story – I know many stories. What would you like? Another fairy tale like your knight told? Something true, something political, something about myself? Funny? Romantic? Tragic?

"The royal library in Leondeal is quite large, and I will admit to sneaking in for an hour at a time when I can no longer take the endless prattling of the court politicians. One can only take the same circular argument so many times. I have a number of tales memorized," He chuckled softly, "When I was sixteen my aunt caught me secreted away in the political histories. She was so proud that I was trying to learn what I could to better our country that she praised me high an low, and swore never to tell what I was doing when I hid. She made such a big deal out of it that I didn't have the heart to show her that the book in my lap was actually an adventure novel about a squire's journey to the land of the fair folk. The isle from which I had pulled the book was in full view of the library's door and I had simple chosen a lass visible corner." The tone in Anton's voice said he was slightly amused at himself. "I still feel a bit badly about it, even now."

 

[moffnat]

If anything else, the King was remarkable at a good massage. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that it wasn't him touching her at all, that it was a servant or a handmaiden or even Diana, and the relief provided by the workmanship of his hands was near instantaneous. Anton told stories of all sorts, from his late night escapades to the library as a boy to tales about dragons and pirates, to legends of Leondeal's history and the conjoining of other kingdoms in the world. Though his hands worked magic along the muscles of her back, there was one major problem--the voice that came from his lips wasn't Nicoli's, and that was enough to unsettle her despite the royal treatment.

After four tales in total, Anne drew in a breath. "Thank you for your company and your stories," she told him as she moved to sit up, smiling in the most genuine manner she had ever let him see. He's extremely good at that. What a shame. "I fear that I'm too tired to continue on, however, and a nap is on order. Do you need me to show you the door?"

I'm going to have to play the game better than this if I'm to win him over. He was an expert on the matter, having been king since before he turned eleven, but Anne had been queen only two years, nearly three, and so far she had led him in all the wrong directions. Perhaps her stress-induced illness had taken too many tolls on her wits. She had no intention to have him believe her to chase him or to be desperate, but that was no doubt what had occurred and there was no taking back time. She tried to think of how her advances could be corrected or used to her advantage, but no answers came.

I just want to put everything behind me and follow my heart. If only my brothers had lived, then perhaps things would be different. Perhaps my marriage would be different...

Once again, unwillingly, a knight in her service came to mind.​

 

[Falcon]

"I think I can show myself out," Anton assured as the young queen thanked him. "When you are feeling better I am sure we can work out some sort of . . . arrangement." As he spoke the King shifted as if to rise, yet the movement brought his head startlingly close enough to Anne's that the last word was spoken only millimeters from her own lips, his breath warm against her skin.

A moment later he only smiled and rose. "Sleep well, Anne, perhaps we will speak on the morrow."


The days passed in a flurry of activities. Anton came and went whenever he felt like he could get away with it without losing the advantage the queen had unwittingly given him. He brought her gifts and told her stories. They discussed politics as they shared meals, and he came up with what seemed an endless list of activities he thought they would enjoy together. The King was, in short, attempting to court his future queen properly. He was all but sure he had already won the game, but there was the appearance of the thing to conceder.

Over the next two weeks Nicoli's knee healed and he returned to duty, but things were different now. He held himself in check as best he could, said nothing unless first directed to speak, and did his absolute best to give no indication of either his feeling for the queen or his disdain for the king, by word, look or deed. It might have been easier had Diana never given him that hint as to the state of the Queen's heart, but she had. Every moment in their presence was agony, and slowly Nicoli began to understand some of the words of the faerie prophecy. If Anne went through with the marriage he would not be able to remain her knight long. Odds were he would have to find a new lord to serve altogether. Even the gossip that flowed through the palace halls was enough to agitate him. Every praise of the king or whisper of how the Queen's wedding dress might look was like a stab at his heart.

But soon the castle was abuzz with far more than the Queen and King's apparent growing admiration for each other. Queen Anne's birthday was fast approaching and all the details of her courtship were quickly lost in the preparations for the masquerade that was to take place in celebration.

The day before the ball, in an effort to get away from the hustle and bustle of the preparations, Anton suggested an afternoon of riding and perhaps a picnic by the river. His invitation was accepted, and shortly after a number of servants and knights had filled the courtyard as they prepared the horses, loaded the lunch on a pack animal, and assembled a proper escort to ensure the safety of the two royals.

Nicoli found himself checking over the girth and straps of the Queen's saddle, making sure everything was secure, as Anton flirted with her nearby.

"I've asked the palace chef to prepare some traditional Leondeal fare," the King was explaining. "It is my hope you will find it enjoyable."

 

[moffnat]

"Traditional food from Leondeal?" came her inquiry like the sound of a dove. Anne had learned the master the character of a shy maid during the few weeks that had passed. "Why, that sounds splendid! I can't wait to try some of it. I'm sure you've had your fill of all ReValya has to offer. I'm afraid the only delicacies we have here are our wines, as delicious as they are. I insist that we bring some, I'm sure the two will mix splendidly on the tongue."

It wasn't as hard to be kind to Anton as she thought. Despite all the horrors she knew of him, there was a part of her naturally gentle spirit that knew how to be kind to even the worst of criminals. She had heard the warnings in her heart that told her such deliberate sweetness toward Anton could inevitably lead to her downfall, that he would consider her an irritation and dispose of her shortly after their child was born, but Anne had gotten into the habit of convincing herself she was on the right track. The more Anton underestimated her the sweeter justice would taste, the more priceless his look of exasperation would be. Anne had to keep that in mind if she intended to keep up her little charade, and no matter how much she disdained the idea it was not in her nature to surrender.

Glancing over at Nicoli was a mistake, however. Anne instantly felt a piece of her heart chip away at the forlorned look on her knight's typically cheery expression, knowing that perhaps her mistakes with Anton had been a direct cause. He didn't speak unless spoken to, didn't offer songs or jokes like he had so many times in the past. He was subdued, saddened. She felt worse even looking in his direction.

"Ser Nicoli," she said at last, if only giving herself a reason to talk to him. "You don't have to come along if you don't wish it. I would hate to pull you away from a task that would sooner require your undivided attention..."

I don't like the way you frown. Your smile is so much nicer.​

 

[Falcon]

Nicoli flinched slightly at her words. She could have no idea what was going on in his heart and head. How long had he watched her? How long had he felt as he had before he knew what is meant? Months? years even? And upon reconciliation to his own feelings nothing had gotten any easier. He wanted only what was best for her, what would make her happy, and yet it pained him to think that her happiness would be found with a man like Anton.

At her words he turned and bowed, hoping she could not read the expression in his eyes. "Forgive me highness. "It is simply a personal matter that troubles me. It will not affect my work in any way." His manner was stiff and formal, the way it always should have been. The way it had been at the very beginning of their acquaintance, so long ago when she was little more than a half grown girl. "Nothing is more important to me than your well being," he continued. "So long as it is permitted I will ride at your side." And I can not even begin to explain how true those words are. Should Anton hear it I would hang.

In the background Nicoli could see Sir Tristen move among the flanking courtyard columns, dressed in civilian clothing, his bandaged arm and shoulder held from movement by a sling. He had arrived home some days prior, but the Captain had deemed him unfit for duty. Still, the aged man watch and observed. Currently his eyes seemed to be focused on Lampkin who had stepped forward to whisper in his king's ear. Tristen's face wore an obvious frown.

A moment later Anton had swung into the saddle in a single, smooth motion, motioning pointedly for Lampkin to do the same. Around them those that were going, knights and staff, climbed atop their own steeds. A young boy waited to one side with Red, but Nicoli ignored them, choosing instead to wait for his Queen's permission to come.

 

[moffnat]

"It is a personal matter which ails me as well," she said without thinking. Anne couldn't resist a longing glance into his eyes before tearing herself away, allowing the servants to assist her atop her white mare all while wearing a look of extreme discomfort. She only hoped that, with time, Anton would overlook her downcast expression and fail make inquiry. It would be difficult and awkward indeed to admit that love was what ailed her, that her heart called to the crippled knight over a king with all the wealth she dreamed of. Nicoli was worth more than diamonds or gold to her, and it pained her to know he could never hear such a confession.

Anne kept to herself throughout the course of the ride, trying not to make conversation unless spoken to and always keeping an eye on Nicoli and Ser Tristen. She used the excuse of worry for her frequent looks, convincing those around her that she only wanted to ensure Ser Tristen's safety, which would be true had Anne's forbidden love not turned her selfish. She gripped the reins and steeled herself, never prepared for how hard being in Nicoli's presence had become.

"King Anton," she said after a moment. "I hear that you can see the most beautiful sunsets from the top of Leondeal's keep. Is it true that--"

The mare gave a violent jolt. Anne gasped and clutched to wherever she could, but it was too late. The horse, spooked horrendously by some unknown force, went charging forward at full speed with a screaming queen on his back, and Anne was barely able to cling to the beast's neck to keep from falling off and breaking her own.

Anne's crown tumbled to the dirt.​

 

[Falcon]

Anton barely had time to react, but Nicoli was faster.
The horse started, the queen screamed, and as the animal fled he had healed his on mount around and tore after them, three other knights on his heels.

Sir Tristen slowed and dismounted to retrieve the crown. Anton remained behind, shouting something at his man, Lampkin, but Nicoli ignored them both. With one hand the knight undid the clasp on his cloak so it would not drag in the wind. He leaned down, low over his horse's neck urging Red to go faster, moving with the rhythm, and trusting in what he had always known. Red was a runner.

Hoof-beats pounded in his ears as they raced onward. The abandoned cloak settled in the dirt and was promptly trampled by one of those that rode, slower, behind.
Yard after yard they gained on her, and soon the buckskin outpaced the white mare.

"My hand!" Nicoli shouted, reaching out and directing Red as close as he could managed, "your highness, grab my hand!"

The moment she had he pulled the queen from her saddled in a single fluid motion, settling her across his lap. Nicoli's arms curled protectively around her as he allowed Red to slow to a walk. For a moment he feared she might fear his own trembling, and he was grateful she could not hear his heart pounding through the metal of his breastplate. "I've got you," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm not going to let you fall."

Seconds later two other knights raced past in pursuit of the frightened horse. Regathering the reigns in a single hand, Nicoli turned Red back to find the rest of the party looked like ants in the distance, they had ridden so far.

 

[moffnat]

In a rush of wind and an iron grip, the speed at which she moved had slowed despite how quick her heart continued to pound, so hard she felt as though she might be nauseous. Anne clung to Nicoli tighter than she had anything in her life, panting, gasping, on the verge of nervous tears and caught in the trap of anxiety before Nicoli spoke over her chaos. It was a sound sweeter than anything she'd ever heard, even better his singing, better than her father's stories or the sound of her mother's lullabies. Nicoli's words were infinitely better because they were concrete and destined not to fade while the others had gone, fleeting and temporary. His words were genuine.

"I've got you."

It took a few moments for Anne to collect herself, raising her head from the steel of his breastplate to realize that they had come full stop. She didn't take a single moment to assess where she was in Nicoli's lap, far too close to remain should they continue to hold conventional laws of the monarchy close to their hearts, but Anne was content to throw them out the window so long as he was with her. She looked into his eyes and laughed despite the few tears that rolled down her cheeks, marveling at the miracle that was Nicoli de'Arbolshire amidst waves of joyous relief.

He saved me from a horse, she thought. He saved me from doom. He saved me from myself. I should not have expected anything different.

She placed her trembling hands on his cheeks and gently pulled his head down to hers, kissing him on the cheek once, twice, three times before breaking into a series of laughs and sobs. "Thank you," she breathed, though it was becoming difficult through her gentle chokes. "Nicoli, thank you, gods, thank you for everything. I owe you so much and I can never repay the debt. I thank the gods for you every day in my prayers, I do, thank you, thank you thank you..."

She kissed his cheek again before wrapping her arms around his neck in a full hug, never ashamed of the closeness.​

 

[Falcon]

Nicoli made no protest as she kissed his cheek, longing to shift just enough to give her something considerably more substantial than his simple compliance. Yet he dared not. Still, his arms tightened as she hugged him. He wanted to hold her close. He relished this moment even as his mind registered her words and in the awareness that it could never be forced himself to hold back his response.

I love you.

Nicoli took a deep breath, and then another before shifting in the saddle and nudging Red forward, back towards the waiting picnic party.
"My lady, this King will be worried. So will the others. I should take you back."

Anton, meanwhile, was putting on a very good show of the worried Beau. he had dismounted his own mount, and set about pacing, schooling his features into a look of worried relief as he watched the knights in the distance retrieve the Queen. He made no comment about how she looked returning place across her knights lap. The clear relief on everyone's face made it obvious that no one thought it was strange for her to be in such a position after such an event. Neither did Anton come to think of it. But he was quick to rush to the Horse's side and reach up his arms to her.

"Let me help you down, My lady. Are you well? Were you hurt at all? Perhaps a bit of refreshment and then we should return to the palace? Lampkin, bring her highness the wine skin that she might have something to settle her nerves!"

 

[moffnat]

"Wine? Yes, wine..." She glanced from Anton to Nicoli to Anton again before reaching out for her king, allowing him to pull her from the knight's lap and into his protective hold. Certain it was just for show, Anne played along and praised Anton for his feelings of protection and thanked him for his swift assistance, though it was in no way akin to the overwhelming gratitude she held for Nicoli. Anne accepted the wine with grace and drank far too much, if only to chase away thoughts of a certain man in her service.

I should send him away, she thought as Anton's arm wrapped around her shoulders. I should order Nicoli to return to his uncle's farm or dismiss him from the guard, and let him find the woman who will take his heart from me. Then I can die in peace, just as he'll live. But she hadn't the stomach to imagine life without Nicoli a word's summon away, and instead she trapped herself in the confines of playing the gentle queen for Anton's perverse amusement.

---

​

The night was a terrible one. Countless times Diana had woken to the sounds of Anne's cries and groans, having to gently wake her from whatever nightmares captured her in the grips of despair. It happened so often over the course of the night that Diana gave up sleeping in her chambers entirely, and instead crawled up beside the shivering queen by her command. The close friends lay awake a while, trading stories and making foolish jokes before letting sleep take hold once more. By the time the sun had risen, a worried Diana had only stolen a few hours of sleep, but there was no time to waste. It was already nearly noon, and there was plenty of work to do.

"Hey," she said, giving Anne's shoulder a gentle shake. "Your Majesty, wake up."

"Mmmmmmm," the queen groaned, throwing the blankets over her head like a child. "No, Diana."

"M'lady, it's almost noon."

"I command you not to...mmm, not to wake me."

"I have to. It's your birthday, m'lady. The masquerade starts in a few hours."

"That's nice..." Anne rolled over and buried herself further into the sheets, letting a few seconds pass before her eyes shot open. "Oh, gods!" she exclaimed. "Noon?! Why didn't you wake me sooner?!"

"You kept commanding me not to--"

"Bugger that! We've got to get ready!" Anne threw the comforts of her bed off her sleepy body and hastily stripped of her nightclothes, letting her hair down and snatching a robe. "Draw a bath, Diana. I'm going to run and get something to eat for the both of us." She slipped on the silk and shoved her feet into a pair of worn slippers. "Do you want anything?"

"Is the queen gettin' food for her handlady?" Diana teased. "If tha's the case I wan' four chickens, two big juicy oranges, chopped up fried potatoes and a side of fruit. Make it snappy, miss! An' don' forget the cream neither!"

"I could have your tongue out for that." Anne gave a breathy chuckle as she winked at Diana, closing the chamber door behind her as she exited. Diana was quick to draw warm water for a bath, tossing hints of vanilla into the water as the queen so liked, before filling the second tub with lavender for her own bath. She moved into the main room once more to pull out the two dresses, one far superior to the other, as well as the jewels that she thought would look best on the both of them. Anne's twentieth birthday celebration was to be one of the greatest in ReValyan history, marking the joining of faeries and humankind with food, song and dance, as well as the arrival of a foreign king looking to make a match with ReValya's gentle queen. Everything had to be immaculate, from the details of the food to the decor, to the music and the dancing and the stitching on the queen's dress. Anne had no desire for Anton to think ReValyans poor party hosts. This event would be key to impressing him, as well as gaining insight on what exactly he intended with Anne and her kingdom. Not to mention, his reaction at the attendance of Queen Lyanna and her tribe to the celebrations. Though the slaves of Leondeal and the Quelara tribe had no affiliation, they were faeries nonetheless and Anne had been anxious to see the look on her suitor's face when the young queens chatted amiably about their peace treaty. It had all been carefully planned. The execution of such plans, however, was another issue entirely.

Diana, knowing that Anne would not want her wait, undressed herself and slipped into the warm water to wash thoroughly. She wasted no time in her quick cleanse, drying herself off as soon as the queen had rushed back into the chambers with a platter of food. "Here we are," she stated. "Chicken, eggs, potatoes, fruit, you name it. i just told Balon to throw whatever he wanted onto the tray, whatever there was. I can't believe we slept through breakfast."

"You slept through breakfast," Diana laughed. "I was tryin' to wake ya and everythin', but you kept tellin' me to stop otherwise you'd throw me out o'the castle."

"Did I really?" Anne could only chuckle in amusement at her cranky, sleepy self. "I'm sorry. You know I'd never do that."

"Mhm." Diana finished drying off and moved to begin dressing herself, first in the underskirts, then in the corset. "Can you tie this, m'lady? I can't do it meself."

"Why did I not have more women in here helping us prepare?" Anne asked incredously, pulling on the strings and tieing them appropriately. "I'm a complete idiot."

"A lovestuck idiot, maybe."

"Lovestru--" Diana turned to see Anne's face turning a dangerous shade of rose. "Am not."

"Are too." When the corset was tied and completed, the handmaiden slipped into a dress of pink fabric with royal quality stitching, a gown made specifically for Diana and her figure. It cascaded to the floor and made her feel more a princess than anything else, and she stopped for a moment of self-admiration in the mirror before snapping from her reverie and returning to the task at hand. "Anyway, get in that bath. We're runnin' out o'time. I'll finish getting meself ready and then we'll focus on you, you're the difficult one."

"If you're expecting an apology, I have none to give." Anne chuckled as she slipped naked into the water, washing and rinsing as quickly and thoroughly as Diana had only moments ago.

The remainder of the process went by faster than Diana had imagined. Once out of the bath, the queen dressed in her underclothes before being promptly seated in front of the vanity for Diana to fuss with her hair. She pulled back long chestnut curls and formed them into a perfect bun atop Anne's regal head, painting her face with all the right colors and shades to make for a stunning queen as desirable as any, and clasping a necklace of sapphires and aquamarines about her slim neck. The corset was tied, the perfume was sprayed, and with plenty of cursing and frustrations Anne and Diana had finally placed the queen in an elegant gown of ReValyan colors, sky blue on white and gold. The final touch was a crown upon her royal head and a few moments of excited squealing between the two young ladies. It had all been so exhilarating, that Anne appeared to have forgotten the troubles Nicoli brought her, if only for a few hours. Diana was happy to provide something like that. Distractions would only get in the way of her plans, and nothing would make the girl feel more a failure than if her queen were to perish on the whims of a monstrous mountain king.

"Ready?" Diana asked, holding Anne's hands in her own for comfort.

"No. But I suppose I'd better be." The queen looked up to her dear friend, and Diana could read a deep sense of sadness and despair written on features that had been smiling and laughing only moments ago. "You are the most wonderful persona a girl could ask for in her life, do you know that? I don't tell you enough, but it's true, it's so very true."

"Stop it, you'll make me all teary and then I'll wash me pretty makeup right off o'my face." The girls shared an anxious laugh. "Come on, now. Don't think about that. You have plenty of time to tell me nice things and make me all giddy like a li'tle girl."

But the look on the queen's face horrifyingly said otherwise.​

 

[Falcon]

The King of Leondeal was bathed, shaved, and dressed in plenty of time for the party in a suit of white with silver and gold brocade, and while his staff busied about their own preparations he sat in a window seat watching the commotion below and grinning to himself. The Queen's narrow escape on the horse the day before, while unexpected, had provided the king with the perfect opportunity to take the next step of his plan. If all went well their union was all but assured.

Down below he could see various staff and servants bustling about, some already in formal dress, others still in their day-to-day cloths. When the guard change occurred Anton noted that the new watch were already dressed in what appeared to be formal dress-uniforms, even their boots had been buffed until they shined. Though Anton was sure he could see hints of very thin plate-mail under their coats. Those already in party-appropriate apparel were taking the place of their comrades who rushed, Anton assumed, off to the barracks bathhouse. It was odd, he noted, that they would still be dressed in black and gold when the ReValya color was sky blue, but then by putting themselves in a neutral color the guard was guaranteed to never clash with the Queen. Odd thing was that was part of Anton's own reason for wearing white. He wanted to reinforce the idea that they belonged together. It was unlikely that they would match, but they would fit by each other's side and that visual association would stick with the people.

There was a click as from a side door Lampkin entered dressed in the traditional chocolate and gold colors of his home country with the rising sun of the royal house embroidered on the breast of his coat. He brought with him Anton's shoes newly cleaned and shined, which was the last piece Anton had been waiting for.

"I though you wanted to dress to match your Dotty. You seem quite fond of the wench of late."

"Aye, and she of me. You must admit that she does provide useful information when there is any to be had. But she would not tell me the color of her dress. Said it was to be a surprise. I figured that this way if we clash I would at least have the valid excuse of faithfully representing my king."

"Hmm, yes, well, I'm sure I would not know what to do without you," Anton murmured as he slid his stocking feet into the white court slippers and rose. "And the other matter? The object I sent you to obtain?"

"Right here, your grace," Lampkin answered promptly, handing over a little silver box of which Anton hastily checked the contents before secreting it away in a pocket inside his coat. "And no need to worry. I made certain no one saw me access your strong box. You should catch the little queen off guard just as you've planned." Lampkin smiled and then proceeded to retrieve a second box, beautifully wrapped in pale blue paper, from the back of the king's wardrobe. "And here is the Queen's birthday gift. You'll forgive me, I think, for taking the liberty of forging your hand on the note."

At this news Anton flipped open the card on the top and felt his eyebrows climb as he read. "I had no idea you were so romantic," he stated finally. "I approve, and the hand does look like mine. Let us see if it passes the scrutiny of the lady in question."

And not giving Lampkin the chance to say another word, Anton left for the ball room, intending to be tastefully on time enough to watch the lady of honor make her entrance.

 

[moffnat]

Long had she anticipated this moment. To be among the human world was both an enormous gift and a horrifying curse, never sure which was the most suitable for the moment and it often depended on who one was dealing with. Noble lords and ladies would seek to trap faeries in cages and display them like exotic animals, others would give them offerings and worship them like gods, but it took a great deal of character to treat a faerie as an equal. No demands, no whispers of wishes waiting to be granted or prayers of mercy. Queen Anne had walked into the Quelaran lands with a price on her head and left with the faeries' hearts. This treaty would be fruitful indeed.

The queen watched celebrations in courtyards and streets alike, her people and Anne's, human and otherwise drinking and laughing and remaining quite peaceful in their joy. There were none in ReValya who sought to harm the Quelarans and the few who did were dealt with accordingly. Anne had ensured that the people of one of the last free faerie tribes felt welcome. They had shown her such hospitality once, the least Anne could do was return the favor.

Snapped from her reverie, Lyanna turned her head as a peculiar young girl with dark skin approached, wearing a pretty pink dress that flattered her skin tone. Lyanna smiled to see her.

"M'lady--I mean, Queen Faerie, Lyanna," the girl stuttered something terrible. "My queen wishes for your gracious highness faerie to come to the ball room to watch her enter with all the guests. She thinks tha' ya both should go togetha and make a state...statement."

"How old are you?" Lyanna asked with amusement.

"Me? Uh. F-Fourteen, m'lady faerie."

"Fourteen. Not much younger than the queen herself, hm?"

"The queen is turnin' twenty--"

"Ah, spare me." Lyanna chuckled as she flew to her feet, gesturing for the girl to follow. "Come. I won't bite."

"O-Okay." The girl hurried up to the faerie queen's side, admiring the color of her wings in silence though her expression left her thoughts no secret. When they reached the threshhold of the door where Anne waited, Lyanna offered her greetings and the two exchanged an amiable kiss on the cheek. Both queens commented on the elegance of the other, of the state of affairs that their people were exuberant in and the softness of the late spring weather. Not a word was said about Anne's predicament, though Lyanna knew. She knew a great many things that Queen Anastasia di ReValya did not.

"A favor, my ladies."

"Of course." Anne smiled confidently, taking in a breath. "What is it you ask?"

"Cherish the look Anton will wear when we enter together." Lyanna chuckled darkly. "It is an image I want to hold dear for the rest of my life, upon many others he will harbor in the near future."

"Please," Anne laughed. "Here I was thinking you would request something difficult."

At the sound of blaring trumpets, Diana scurried off through the back route to join the crowds while the doors were opened. The queen's herald slammed his great staff against the floor and shouted with a great voice, "May I present Queen Anne di ReValya, Protector of the Peace, Keeper of the Realm and Mother of Mercy, and Queen Lyanna of the Quelara Tribe!"​

 

[Falcon]

Lampkin spent much of the evening observing everyone, the staff, the guests, and the knights as they went about their duties. Even had they not been dressed all the same in those gold trimmed black coats Lampkin would have been able to pick out the members of the queen's guard. There was something about their stride, perfectly in balance, or the way the men's hands rested as if on the pommel of an invisible swords. All weapons had been left outside the hall, but that didn't stop the way each knight's eyes ticked over those they talked to as if searching for a blade hidden away.

Lampkin saw when Sir De'Arbolshire took a few too many glances at the door where the queen would enter. He saw the way the man eyed the gift table as if wishing he could have gotten her something as well, and he saw the disproving glance the man sent Anton when the king set down his own gift.

Anton himself was very merry and accommodating, making small talk with all those around him and leaving Lampkin largely to himself. It was perfect for the king's man as that meant he was free to look for Dotty, and no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the woman was on his arm. Dressed in a golden ocher gown that went well with the colors she would have known the country of Leondeal claimed, the woman's smile was warm and inviting as she asked him how she looked.

"Like a pretty parcel I would very much like to unwrap," he answered honestly.

"Perhaps that can be arranged when the party is over," she tittered, "for now I like the way you look in that coat and when the music starts I would very much like a dance. I find I have grown rather fond of you."

"I am not a kind man," he cautioned.

"And I am not a naive child," she retorted. "I find I like your edge, it keeps me on my own toes. And I will let you have your secrets, so long as you let me have mine."

"For example what the Kings gift will be?"

"I was thinking more why he had taken such a personal interest in ReValya. There are other countries, other Princesses and queens."

"I can think of a number of acceptable answers I could give, but this is hardly the time or place for such a conversation."

"True, and I think the guest of honor is about to arrive."

She nodded to the door where the queen had just entered, but upon seeing the woman on the Queen's arm, Lampkin's eyes shifted immediately to his King.


Anton's face was in shock, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, but he recovered quickly and seconds later his expressing had transformed into a calm and arsine, if fixed, smile. When the woman approached he bowed suitably low and murmured only, "I don't know why I should be surprised that you make friends so easily. You are a kind and generous woman who should earn the friendship of all who come near." Surprisingly he found he meant every word.

---

Rebecca meanwhile was far more concerned with the festivities of the party than the politics. Her father had allowed her to come, provided she was on her best behavior, so that she could learn to function in polite society, and dressed in a simple gown of periwinkle blue she threaded her way around the room soaking in everything.

It was all new to her, the sights, the sounds, the wide variety of food put out for her majesty's birthday, the way couples interacted, and the musicians played. To be allowed to take part, Rebecca was so excited she was almost fidgety. In fact she had earned a raised eyebrow from her father across the room no less than five times before the queens entered.

A moment later the young girl spied Diana on the opposite side, and while she waited until it looked like the other was no longer busy, she was soon at her elbow. "She looks so grand!" Rebecca hissed about the queen the moment Diana was free. "So calm and elegant. And friends with the Faeries too! I feel like such a klutz, I don't even know what to do with my fan." Rebecca's trembling hands managed to drop the object in question a second later and her face flamed as she knelt to pick it up.

 

[moffnat]

"Ah, King Anton," Anne chimed amiable as she leaned forward to kiss his cheeks in the same friendly manner that Lyanna had earlier. "You look absolutely dashing tonight. I admit, I like white on you. It flatters your dark features." None of her words were a lie--King Anton one of the most attractive men she had ever laid eyes on, with all the right angles in all the right places. Though Anne was no different. Together, the pair was so incredibly stunning that songwriters throughout ReValya had written songs about their beauty. The people began to whisper excitedly of the match and be so bold as to invite the soldiers of Leondeal into their homes to dine as if they were family. She would let them have their fun. By the time it was all over, ReValya would bleed, and there would no doubt be many fingers pointed in her face. If only they knew how hard this will be for me.

Still, she was as sparkly and bright as ever. Anne laughed at each and every one of Anton's jokes, brought him around the room to introduce him to various nobility, even allowed him to feed her off the end of a fork. But if reality be told, she entirely sick of his company and wished to throw him behind prison bars in the darkest cells. In time, Anne. In time.

She excused herself at the end of the hour, unable to stand it anymore. She kept a smile until she was out on one of five different balconies, left in peace for a few precious moments. She rested her head in her hands and sat on a stone bench, overwhelmed with all the stress she'd been hiding for the past several weeks. Don't cry. He'll know if you do. She raised her head instead to look upon the brilliant moon, smiling ever so slightly at the memory of her mother. It was said that the beauty of King Gregory's queen was fed by the moon itself, for she always seemed to be more social and friendly during the night hours. If only you were here, mother. You could tell me what to do and guide me far away from the decision I am about to make.

---

​

Diana chuckled as Rebecca lost her fan to the floor. "I don' even get a fan. Annie--I mean, Her Grace will know that I dropped it." She picked up a large lemon cake and stuffed the whole thing in her mouth, much to the disdain of nearby nobles who moved away from the peasant girl. It took a minute or two for her to swallow, but when she did it was as if no time had passed and she dove right into speaking again.

"She was a right mess this mornin'. Had to wake her up at least six times in the night. She's been havin' all sorts of bad dreams lately, and she's got this mark on her tummy here--" Diana pointed to Rebecca's lower abdomen, "and it's gettin' darker. I dunno why I'm tellin' you all this. I'm just worried is all, an' I can't tell that nasty mountain king or he'll be all nice to Anne and make her even more unhappy." She looked down to the wine in her cup and swirled it around in shame. "She's no' happy at all with this match, Rebecca. I think it's eatin' at her."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the faerie queen fly gently past, examining the faces of each queensguard as she went.

---

​

"No," she muttered, seeing a man with blue eyes and blonde hair move past. "No, no no." Each person she checked in the guard's uniform hadn't turned out to be the man she was looking for, and the queen was growing more and more frustrated. Lyanna had half a mind to call out through the fray in search of the person in question, until she saw him walking from the present table to the food court one little limp at a time.

Slowly, she flew behind him and laced her arm in his. "Hello, Dear Friend." Convinced that she had shocked him, she plucked a grape from a vine and offered it to him. "I'm sorry for startling you, but I believe your queen has gone absent from the party. She seemed very distressed. Perhaps you should go to her?"

She needs you more than you know, Dear Friend.​

 

[Falcon]

Nicoli jumped slightly as the fairy queen took his arm. He hadn't even heard her approach she was so light on her feet. He supposed that since she was a faerie he should not be surprised to find she did not move like a human, neither did she look like one for all her girl's face. There was a wisdom in her eyes that he could not ignore.

"I do not believe she wants me," he said simply in reply taking the grape she offered, "but if it is your council that I find her, I will try." Nicoli was not particularly keen to take on this role, one the faeries themselves had indicated was unwise by their own prophecy, yet every time he tried to step away it seemed he was drawn back in. Perhaps he should give in, just say something and see what happened, where it led him. Yet there were too many consequences should things go wrong, and far too much to hope that Anne might put aside Anton, take his kingdom, and set Nicoli up is his place. Far too selfish as well. Nicoli knew he was not cut out for a political life and he had heard the faeries say she was destined to wed the King of Leondeal.

He found her, after some discreet searching, on one of the least used balconies and after seeing that seemed to want to be alone, knocked gently on the door frame.
"Highness?" he took a moment to clear his throat, "forgive me for intruding, I shall leave in a moment, but Queen Lyanna sent me to find you. She feared you were unwell."

---

"Oh," Rebecca said softly as she picked up small plate containing a piece of white cake covered in strawberry sauce. She received an approving nod from an elderly woman when she also claimed a fork, but it was all Rebecca could do to make herself take moderate bites and not shove the whole thing in her mouth in a similar fashion.

"It must be an awful thing to have to marry someone you don't love," she muttered. "But she's the queen. Surly if she would really be unhappy she could tell him no. I mean if he likes her he might be hurt, but I don't think any man wants to spend his life wed to a woman who doesn't like him. That wouldn't be a good marriage at all! And how would the kingdoms function if the King and Queen were always fighting I mean-" and here Rebecca blushed and suddenly lowered her voice. "If Ma and Dad quarrel nothing gets done unless me or my brothers do it. Not that they quarrel often. Just when dad lets himself get sent to do something dangerous and Ma wants him to stay home. Ma worries so-" she stopped and blushed deeper. "Now that's something I shouldn't have told you. . . ."

A second later her whole expression brightened and she practically squealed with glee. "I know! If my mum is over protective because she loves Papa, then maybe there's someone out there who the Queen'd be protective of . . . or listen to. I mean if she doesn't want to marry the King because she doesn't love him, then maybe if there was a man she did want to marry and he spoke first, then maybe she would be able to tell Anton no? All she needs is a chance at a different match to make her see what's plain as daylight to the rest of us. Well you more then me. You know her and I don't think I've ever said so much as good morning . . ."

Rebecca's smile suddenly faltered for a moment and she paused in her spiel. "She doesn't does she? love King Anton I mean?"

 

[moffnat]

Anne turned to see Nicoli in the doorway, looking gallant and worried and perfect like some answered prayer. She almost wept at the sight of him. "No," she insisted, standing so fast she nearly tripped over the edge of her gown. "No, please--I mean, if there's nothing you need to do, there's something I'd like to speak to you about. I hadn't..." She drew a breath. "I mean, I'd planned on waiting, but I need your advise. Now more than ever."

She felt a blush creep up into her cheeks, praying to the gods that she was making the right choice.

---

​

"No!" Diana laughed. "'Course not, silly girl. Ya make even me feel silly sometimes." She grabbed Rebecca's wrist like the devious children they were and dragged her to a small alcove in the eastern edge of the room, pulling her close. She shushed her quickly.

"She doesn't love 'im at all, but I know who she does love. You know Ser Nicoli of the guards? She loves him real bad, she talks about 'im all the time. It's real sad. She just wants ta love 'im but she can't, feelin' like she's gotta owe the kingdom somethin'. She hates tha' stupid Anton guy as much as the rest of us. She also thinks he's hidin' something huge, somethin' that could change 'istory, but she won' tell me what tha' is. She keeps lots o'stuff to 'erself, that queen. But not how she feels 'bout Nicoli." Diana's expression grew terribly sad.

"I just wish there was somethin' I could do."​

 

[Falcon]

"I can't promise I'll be of any help," Nicoli stated simply stepping through the door and taking a seat on the edge of the bench she had just vacated. "But I will listen and offer what advise I can." One look at her face was more than enough to inform him that she was struggling with something. The least he could do was try. He hoped to be able to offer more.

For a moment he debated whether or not it had been appropriate for him to sit, but the bench was long enough for both of them with comfortable room between, and he did not know what sort of time she would need to tell him what ever it was that weighed so heavily on her shoulders. High above them in the night sky the first stars blinked down on them. Nicoli could almost hear them, chiming that all would be well. But that was the hopeful fancy of a man who had found himself in a tight place with little hope except that there was somehow, somewhere a future waiting for him. Even if he couldn't see it at the moment.

---

"Silly girl?" Rebecca protested, nearly dropping her fan again as she was dragged away, "I'm older than you are!"
But her cheerful demeanor grew quieter, more thoughtful, as Diana began to explain things the moment they were assured of some privacy.

"Nico?" she gasped in shock, "She's in love with Nicoli? But he's so old and serious, And he's got that limp. I'm sure there's something wrong with his leg but Papa won't tell me what it is and Ma flat out forbid me to ask when we have him for dinner. And even if he is passably handsome now he won't be for long. Nico keeps getting sent to the fighting with Dad and I'm sure at some point he's going to come back with a scar on his face and then he won't be handsome at all."

Rebecca paused to draw breath, and a moment latter it looked like something had clicked in her talkative mind. "Are you sure?" she asked again, "Sure she's in love with Nico - Nicoli? I mean I don't object, not at all. In fact if she really wants him they'd make a fine match. I mean he cares about the people and for us, and he's fair when there's trouble, and he is very kind it's just -" Rebecca bit her lip and leaned in closer. "It's just he's the type to keep his heart safe. He got hurt real bad bout four or five years ago. There was a girl he was supposed to marry, they were planning the wedding and everything. I know because I was going to carry the flowers and Dad was supposed to stand up with him, But the girl suddenly decided she didn't want Nico any more and took up with a rich foreign merchant to ride around the country. I haven't seen him so much as look at a girl since, I mean not romantically. He hasn't bought flowers or written a note, or tried to cook for anyone, nothing."

She fiddled with her fan a moment before speaking again. "I don't think anyone would begrudge the Queen for choosing to marry a man she loved, and Nicoli would certainly be a good husband once she had him all trained up in the politics and stuff - But if she doesn't say something first it's never going to happen because she's the queen and he can be stubborn as a mule . . . unless . . . maybe we could tell him for her?" She looked hopefully at Diana, "Could we?"

A moment later Rebecca's eyes suddenly widened in shock, "And you won't tell Mr. Nicoli I've been calling him Nico will you? I'm not supposed to be doing that either!"

 

[moffnat]

"Tell him for her?" Diana gasped, "but--but now I feel all sortsa bad. I didn't know he had love once. Tha's terrible, really! I wonder if Annie knows, I bet she wouldn't try to love 'im so much. Is that how it all works?" She looked towards the distance, unsure of whether or not that was the way of the world. She had never known love, never felt attraction or allowed her heart a moment to fly after her attack, but she could tell that it was eating the queen from the inside out and something had to be done.

We'll give 'em both the world I can't never have.

She turned Rebecca again. "We have ta. We just hafta! Annie can't live with tha' mean ol' king and Mista Nicoli can't have all tha' sadness inside 'im. We'll do it! We'll bring 'em together n' save both their hearts jus' like the stories say!" Diana grabbed Rebecca's hand with a hard grip, her face alight with the possibility of bringing Anne's total happiness. "Come on, I saw 'er go out on the balcony! We gotta go get 'er!"

---

​

"I'm sorry, I hate to take you away from whatever it is you are doing." Anne felt her heart begin to race, so thunderous that her stomach nearly flipped over. She sat beside Nicoli at an appropriate distance and reached out to take his hands, though her own shook so hard it was nearly impossible. She looked to the moon as if gathering strength to hold within before looking at her wonderful knight again.

There were hints of nothing in her eyes, save love.

"I don't want to ma--"

"Annie!" Diana burst through the door with Ser Tristen's daughter in tow, and the queen immediately let go of Nicoli's hands and shot to her feet. At the realization of what she had just disturbed, Diana gasped and went to close the door, but it was too late. The Duchess of Svoy had spotted the queen and moved to wave her towards them. "Your Majesty!" she called, "King Anton has been looking for you! Why not come and open some gifts, if it please you?"

No, Anne begged, it doesn't please me. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She felt her world go quiet, read the regret and misery in Diana's eyes that she was sure reflected ten times the magnitude in her own. The queen gave a look of utter defeat down to Nicoli before muttering "another time, perhaps" and leaving in retreat, not giving the girls at the door a passing glance.

 

[Falcon]

"Nu-uh," Rebecca shook her head in response to Diana's question on how love worked. "Ma says love grows, that you can always make room for another person even though it's hard to stop loving if they go away. I asked her when widow Jennings got remarried. Ma said that getting remarried didn't mean the widow didn't love her first husband anymore, just that continuing to love a memory was different than how you love a real life person. And that people can love multiple people in different ways. Like how you love your friends, is different from how you love your brothers, and different from how you'd love a husband someday."

However she had no chance to find out if Diana had even been listening, because a moment later her hand had been seized and they were running down the hall in search of the romantic pair in hopes of bringing the two hearts together.


Nicoli felt the trembling in Anne's fingers and saw the look in her eyes. For the first time in a long while hope flooded him. He knew that look, not well, but he knew it, and it gave him hope. Hope that what the faeries meant and what he had thought they meant were two entirely different things. Hope that she might choose him, that he had understood Diana correctly and that she did have feelings for him, feelings she might even be willing to acknowledge.

And then Diana interrupted.

Nicoli felt his heart pounding. She had been about to say she didn't want something. There were only so many words he could think of that started with "Ma-" and of those only one made sense in the given context. Had she been about to say she didn't want to marry Anton? Had that been the case he would have counseled against that very action, he might have been bold enough to . . . he was going to have to give up his position as a knight anyway, it might have been worth the risk to confess.

"Nico . . ." he heard Rebecca's soft voice whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We were going to try to – to tell you – tell you how each other felt. I – we – we didn't realize that was what was about to happen anyway."

The sound of laughter and delight echoed from the party room and Nicoli stood. "I have a job to get back to," he muttered solemnly. A moment later he was gone.

Rebecca looked at Diana a somewhat fearful look on her face. "We just made it worse didn't we?" she whispered.



Anton, meanwhile, had swept over to Queen Anne's side the moment she reentered the room. He led her to a plush chair that had been set by the gift table, taking a stool at her feet, and then made a point of being the gift presenter.

Each gift was handed to her with a flourish as he read the name on the card, allowing the party in question to step forward and give her their birthday wishes, before he set the item in her lap so the gathering could look on with awe as she unwrapped the contents. Many of the nobles gave elaborate, unnecessary items. The Queen's Guard had gone in together to gift her with an ornate silver belt knife that while still very pretty was obviously meant for use. Each guard nodded when his name was read, Nicoli among them, but none left their position and Captain Oswin spoke for all when he gave her their best wishes.

Finally only king Anton's own gift remain, and he set the gift before her waiting to see what she would make of the chocolate diamond set contained within. Simple in their elegance, the crowning piece was the necklace. A chain of diamond set circles, he had a feeling the piece would look splendid around her neck. Anton saw no need to inform her that what she gazed on were actually some of Leondeal's crown jewels. Not until the time was right. Soon, he hoped.

 

[moffnat]

Diana felt her breath catch in her throat and catch fire, watching her queen retreat to the throne room as if recoiling after a harsh beating from a loved one. Diana knew that look quite well. She had seen it on her sister's face far too many times.

"Noooo," Diana groaned, turning towards where Nicoli and Anne had parted ways. "Nooo, no, no! It wasn't suppose-ta happen like tha'!" She kicked the nearest rock and watched it sail over the edge of the balcony, slumping down on the bench where the two unrequited lovers had just been seated. "I messed it up, I messed it all up. I messed it up so bad, I bet she'll be so upset when she gets back to'the room tonight. An' it's all my fault, my stupid fault." Diana buried her face in her hands and shook her head, whimpering softly. "I didn' mean ta do tha'..."

---

/​

Each gift she opened was less exciting than the next. While she was polite and shared her gratitude in earnest, all the light and boisterous possibilities of the party had been ripped out from under her and there was no joy anymore. She was certain that Diana hadn't meant to intrude, and she had given the girl the cold shoulder which was likely to backfire on her much later, but there was nothing to be done for it now. She opened wrappings on new china sets, a few dresses in brilliant colors, a gorgeous mirror and a painting for her art-smothered halls. The other gifts were not important enough to gather mention. Each noble knew what would be done with them, anyway--with the exception of the paintings, each new present for the queen would replace something old of the same value, which would be given the orphanages to give the children something special when before, there was nothing. The new young ladies would get a dress that was too small for the queen, the boys would get old swords from the armory, or some other little trinket here and there. It was the least she could do.

Finally, she came to the last box. She unwrapped it, thoroughly tired of all this party business and emotionally exhausted to the point of physical sleepiness. Anne pulled the card out first, realizing it was from the king, and cleared her throat to read it aloud for the audience who so desperately clung to the budding 'romance' between Leondeal and ReValya.

"When first we touched,
My heart flew high,
On gossamer wings through a cloudless sky.
They said it was built upon a lie.
They told me my feelings would surely fade.
Passion would flare and foes would be made.
Can you not put the past behind?
True love can change a rivers course,
Or pierce the strongest vault with ease.
True love can turn coal into gold,
Or tame the tempest to a balmy breeze.
Quite some time has passed since then:
People no longer criticize,
For now they see that truth exists,
Where once there might have been only lies.
Still my feelings are the same today,
As they were on that very first,
For when we touch,
My heart still flies,
On gossamer wings through cloudless skies." [x]

The letters on the page were a stab to her heart. The hand was not Anton's and the disappointment was easily read in her face, but she changed it quickly lest be judged by her peers. "You're awfully romantic," she told him. "I'm flattered." But next time you hit me while I'm defeated, make sure to have it sting less. The poem was a reminder of all she would never have, of the lack of true affection between her and Anton what was sure to be.

I'll have to try again with Anton, I can't live like this. He wouldn't have someone else write his poetry for him.

She pulled off the top of the box after the excited chatter from the contents of his (Lampkin's, no doubt) note died down. At the sight of what rested in Anton's present her eyes lit up, and for the shred of a second she regretted the way her heart leaned. "Oh," she gasped, gently pulling the diamonds from their resting place while those who looked on oo'ed and awed in pure admiration. "Anton," she muttered, looking to him in shock, surprised he would spare something so expensive and generous on the likes of a woman he didn't care about. "I--this...they're beautiful, they're absolutely beautiful."

Without shame, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the mountain king's cheek. "We must be brilliant friends indeed, for you to be so kind to me." The word 'friends' was entirely intentional. "Would you mind putting it on for me? I would hate to put something so gorgeous rest back in a box for the remainder of the night."​