In the Name of a Queen

[Falcon]

"Regardless of my preferences, appearances must be kept-" Anton started hesitating as she turned and he was given the tiniest greater hint of what she kept hidden.

Every moment this dragged on was another moment he fought for control. This was a losing battle and they both new it. Saurella knew exactly where his limits were and how to break him. Every time he thought he gained a bit of ground she found something new to tempt him with or reinvented the old, and where Saurella was concerned he nearly always gave in. Very few things were off limits between them, and those that were he made up for in other ways.

"And what - " He had to close his eyes a moment and suppress the slight moan of want that escaped his throat at the sight of her tongue against her lips. Oh the things she could do with that mouth, the things she had done.

"And what," he stared again hoarsely, "Would you ask in exchange for disclosing the contents of these visions?" He didn't specify the visions he was talking about. There was no need. She knew exactly what he was asking. Gods but he wished this whole thing could be over and done with so he could return to Leondeal and construct a little revenge for this teasing. One did not bate a King without consequence.

 

[moffnat]

His little grunts and hesitations were music to her ears. Saurella knew she had him in her clutches, a grip that would not loosen even with the distance between them. Was it love? Hardly. Saurella had not claimed to love him once, nor would she, and surely if he had loved her she would be his queen by now.

I wish I knew why he waits.

Still, Saurella was no whore. She preferred to use the term "entrepreneur"--she filled what positions were needed at any given time to advance her wealth and standing in various courts, businesses, and otherwise. The fact that she had integrated herself into the Royal Family was a miracle in itself, a gift from whatever god saw fit to grace her. She had been taking some herbal tea to increase chances of fertilization as well, hoping for a royal bastard as means to quicken a marriage between King Anton and herself, or at least more support than what she was getting. Her plans extended far beyond this fool of a lustful king, but she would make due until the time was right.

"So," she said with a joyous tone, "I saw a vision of your little queen at a wedding. She was marrying a king, but the king was not you. Someone else. He was a man with two heads, one was the face of a poor farmer and the other held the boldness of a monarch, yet both of them wore your crown." She looked into the mirror and frowned. "I don't know what to make of it, but perhaps my bottles and potions seem to think you a poor man."

A small lie.​

 

[Falcon]

"Perhaps your bottles and potions think me a fool," Anton said dryly in answer. This news had soured his mood. Not completely, but enough to grant him a moment of clarity.

"It is a vague vision, Saurella. perhaps it means I will fail here, but perhaps it means I will meet a premature death and Little Anne will marry again after I'm gone. I do not think even you can say for sure. It simply means I must be more cautions going forward does it not? Unless these visions have granted you some other insight that will further our plans? You know how much I value your experience."

There was a double meaning in that, but he did value her. He valued Saurella on multiple levels for she was a cunning and multifaceted woman. Anton did not believe he had yet seen it all. There were days when he wondered if he dared risk making her queen.

Oh he did not love her. Anton had long ago given up the notion that he was capable of romantic love. He was too selfish and ambitious to ever put the well-being of another first. And he had since decided that if he could not marry for love, than he would marry for political power. Saurella could not offer him that, not unless she could provide him with an heir. Thee was enough trouble begetting children in his family line, he wanted a wife who, if she was good for little else, could at least provide him with the promise of a future for his kingdom. Queen Anne's family had been large before their accident. The queen herself had a figure that promised at fertility. Not to mention she had head upon her shoulders, (though Anton doubted she would ever compare to Saurella) she had an honest reputation and a naivety that guaranteed the love of her people and the openness of their tongues. From where he sat Anne was the better option for Queen, while Saurella would always be his first and favorite lover and adviser. Quiet frankly he didn't see the point of making Saurella queen. She already enjoyed more power than any woman he would ever consider making his wife. And not just the sort of power she exercised now.

His gaze soften as he settled back again with a soft sigh, his eyes tracing every line of her he could see, wishing she'd give him just a little more.
"What would you have me do?"

He enjoyed Saurella as much for her mind as her body. If he was going to be taunted by one tonight, he would at least have the wisdom of the other.

 

[moffnat]

The vision had been one that came to her in the middle of the night, in the form of a dream. Saurella was convinced that he was dwelling in ReValya, a man who would get close to the queen and fall for her virginity and naivete. Oh, Anne was clever, of that much Saurella was certain. Anton sold her too short. The sorceress had waved Fog's Dust over her cauldron and breathed the fumes, tapping in to the collective knowledge of the Fade, a place only the highest of magical ability could draw knowledge. There was a deep and bright future for Anastasia di ReValya, that much was clear. But whether or not it involved Anton, Saurella was unsure.

She hated not knowing things. Her power as a sorceress had granted her immortality, glimpses into the afterlife and the thoughts of gods, the ability to tap into the Fade and feel things she had yet to feel, know things that even the wisest man could never dream of knowing. But her time was not yet upon her. There was an old legend of a witch named Le'Annalle who had climbed so high on the ladder of ambition, the gods welcomed her as one of their own. If she could accomplish such a feat, no one would dare stand before her, not even the poor little King of Leondeal and this supposed "Mother of Mercy".

"My advice?" Saurella giggled, sitting upright, allowing him to look upon the curve of her breasts and the hardened peaks he seemed to miss so much. "My advice is to come back to me and give up on this foolish endeavor with a girl who wants nothing to do with you. But at the same time, she is certainly beautiful. If you bring her home with you, I'm sure the three of us could have some fun."

She twirled her hair, letting him think on that a moment before she spoke again. "You need to seduce her, Anton. Make her want you more than she wants her kingdom's safety. That's how you'll bring her into your trap. Girls like that are all the same, valuing love over everything else. This should be easy. Unless you're not up to the challenge..." She leaned closer to the mirror. "Though, I think your body certainly is, if I know you well enough."

Saurella winked.​

 

[Falcon]

Anton make a rather pleased sound as Saurella rose, his eyes locking on the blushed marks of her womanhood as they gave voice to the fact that she was not nearly so unaffected by this little game she played as she pretended. It was . . . comforting to know that she still found him desirable, that he could inspire in her the same want she pulled from him. He wondered about that sometimes, if she really truly enjoyed having him near. Other days he simply didn't care.

His tongue ran over the edge of his lower lip as he tried to force his mind to focus on the words being spoken and not on the woman speaking them.

"My body is up to any challenge you present," he quipped back, "though I will admit to selfishly wanting to keep you to myself." His eyes focused on hers through the glass. "My mind however - how does a man convince a woman to want him when she had never known want to begin with? What can I possible offer her that she is not already convinced she has? You'll understand why this presents a problem for me. You knew what you wanted from the beginning. I'm not entirely sure Anne has made up her mind."

 

[moffnat]

"You speak of her as if she's a little girl who hasn't even flowered yet. That is your first mistake." As if punishing him for his foolishness, Saurella raised the mirror up to her face again and hid what little pleasure he had received from her aching breasts.

"Anne is a woman. I know women. They want what they've never had, and they've never had what they truly want. Little things, sweet king. Whisper in her ear. Kiss her cheek, low enough to call it the jawline. Rub your thumb along her knuckles. Offer to massage her shoulders. Even gifts as well, such as necklaces and dresses, all that other nonsense. She'll fall for you soon enough. She knows what she wants, Anton--she wants happiness for her kingdom. Promise her that and do the things I've told you, and she's as good as yours."

Saurella did not lie to him then. It was true--such things were bound to get any woman's affection, moreso a queen with a kingdom to care for when such acts were made by a king with riches to provide.

"But you have to want her, too. Surely you're attracted to her? I've seen her face in the flames. A beautiful little thing, she is. Seventeen years old with the commanding presence of one well beyond her years. Though she can never please you the way I can, don't lie to me. Tell me true. You want her. You think about her the way you think about me, only with a bit more force and power to be gained." Saurella chuckled. "All men are the same."​

 

[Falcon]

"Seventeen? I thought she was nineteen-" Anton started slitting up a little, and then he laughed, "your point in full. And those things will work? Do they work for you?" he shook his head slightly as if to clear that last question from the air. "I do not think either of us is so simple as the other would like to pretend. You need not answer that. I trust you would not suggest I act the romantic hero if you did not think it would work. Well then a romantic hero I must endeavor to be to win fair lady's heart and crown."

He ran the back of his fingers gently across the mirror's surface, caressing what it showed him of Saurella's cheek. "As for wanting her, yes in a way I suppose I do. I want the crown on her head and the lands she possesses. I want the loyalty of her people and their mastery of arms. I want to see her look at me with the fawning obedient admiration that I have never desired to see in you, and yes I suppose I do want the pleasure that would come with knowing I was the first to show her what it means to be a woman. After that I care not as long as she produces me an heir, that would solidify any alliance we have.

"Yet fawning admiration means nothing if I can not converse with my intellectual equal or superior, and the deflowering of a maid does not compare to the knowing touch of a woman of experience. Saurella, you know me too well to ever doubt that. Whatever woman graces my marriage bed, yours will always be the place I seek when I am in need, whether is be lust or council."

 

[moffnat]

"Mhmmm." Saurella listened to the sound of his voice and let it fill her ears with the depth of its sound, giggling as she slid a hand out from his sight. She let him imagine what she was doing with it.

"All the same. I appreciate your trust. And while I wish to converse with you longer, I fear that hearing your voice again has done the most most sinful of things to my body, and what is worse still is that I will need two hands to absolve myself of this predicament." She winked at him in a naughty fashion. "Sleep well, sweet king. I wish more than nothing else to hear your voice on the morrow, to know of the poor little troubles you must face in wooing this young queen. And she is seventeen, not nineteen, I am sure of it. I've seen it. They changed her age as well as her name to grant her the crown. Nineteen is a more appropriate age for a young monarch after all. Anastasia is the name she was given at birth as well, yet they changed it to Anne upon the death of her parents, a more regal name, one that suits a proper queen, don't you think? But her people don't mind, of course. They love her all the same."

Saurella rolled her eyes. "Seventeen or nineteen, all that matters is me." She waved a dismissive hand. "I'm going to set down this little mirror, now. Unless you'd like to bring a naughty side to this conversation? I think I may have a bit of spare time on my hands before other matters need attending."

The sorceress licked her lips, the way he liked it. "You know I'd be more than willing."​

 

[Falcon]

"interesting and useful information," Anton breathed as he finally gave into temptation and loosened his waistband. The thought of what her disappearing hand might be doing was driving him mad, especially when she mentioned needing both.

"But you are right, that sort of thing can wait until I know more to share. And you act at if this conversation has not already been naughty." The grin he shot her suggested a great deal as he held the mirror a bit further away and stated, "When I return to you we shall have to make time to have a proper and lengthy conversation. In the meantime I think it's only fair that you make up for your teasing somehow. If you must put the mirror down, kindly place it somewhere where I can have a good view? I'm sure I can come up with a way to give you an interesting angle myself." It was with a suggestive wink of his own that Anton reached up to undo the first button of his sleep shirt.

---

Morning light found the young king contentedly tangled in his sheets, a satisfied grin on his face, his sleep clothing carelessly discarded on the floor, and the silver mirror on the other pillow. It was fortunate it was one of his own people to came to wake him. One of those few trustworthy servants who knew the truth of the matter and was more than willing to ensure that this did not fuel any unsavory rumors within the Queen's walls. In fact the good man dumped the remains of the cider on the King's garments so that in the event someone else did learn of his state upon waking all Anton would have to do was claim he had upset the pitcher in the dark and rather than wake anybody, decided to sleep in his skin.

He really didn't pay Lampkin enough.

Yet when the servants came carrying a tub for his bath no one seemed the wiser. Anton settled into the hot water, sleepy but content, and leaned forward so they could begin with scrubbing his back. It was still early, he had time for a soak, and time to puzzle over Saurella's council from the night before. Now, how to go about winning the young Queen's heart?

 

[moffnat]

The gloomy colors of a post-stormy morning brightened her chambers with an unwelcomed white light. Anastasia had half a mind to shield her eyes and fall back into the deep slumber that had taken her so far from her worries, but to do so would be not only disrespectful to her guests but contradictory to the rule she intended to keep. A queen can't sleep in like a princess can, after all. Anne suffered her better judgment and pushed herself from the comfort of warm sheets, slipping on a casual gown and letting long curls fall gracefully over her shoulder.

She had almost opened her mouth to call for Ser Nicoli, yet he had no doubt kept the guard throughout the night and was sleeping peacefully somewhere in the barracks. She had no desire to wake him. Anne thought briefly of their time together only hours ago, where he had sang a song that left her in tears, a foolish notion but a factual one. In her solitude, she began to laugh. A voice that moves women to tears, indeed. Anne had only meant it as a point of conversation between her and King Anton, yet her little white lie had come true despite herself. Perhaps the gods mean to make a fool of me. Be it so, she supposed that was a kind way to make her foolishness a reality. The gods had much harsher means of teaching lessons, after all.

She wondered briefly if her roof had been fixed.

By her limited judgment, the little queen assumed that the sun had not yet risen to the eight o'clock position, though it was hard to tell through veils of grey clouds that graced ReValya with a bright, shaded presence. Anne opened the double doors to her balcony and stepped out into the crisp, cool autumn air, and while the temperature was enough to turn her skin to freckles of gooseflesh she felt no need for a robe. The weather of ReValya was something she had long been used to. Leaning against the gilded railing, blue eyes looked out upon the courtyards of training knights and gardeners, all having woken to a new day of royal guests.

And then, her eyes fell towards the Red Gate.

On the eastern side of the gardens directly adjacent to her chambers, the Red Gate stood proudly massive and towered over any who wished to enter or depart royal grounds, painted in blood red with accents of garnets and silver. On such a light morning, the doors were swung wide open while knights of her guard handed out leftovers from the feast to the poor, just as she had commanded.

The people looked at her from across the gardens and began to cheer, waving their arms in hopes that she would see them and grace farmers and paupers alike with her presence. Anne couldn't resist a smile. In a flurry of waves and giggles, she gathered her skirts and left her chambers to run out to greet them, taking beggars as her friends.

"Your Grace," said Ser Owen as he attempted to stop her. "Shouldn't you be preparing yourself for your breakfast with King Anton? He has already woken, according to the servants."

"He can wait," she told him. "They cannot."

Anastasia walked quickly across the gardens of rosebushes and hedges of all sorts, knowing that Ser Owen was correct--she had to be quick here, though Anton was within her walls and would therefore have to bow to her rules and her time. Seeing the faces of her early-rising subjects brighten was worth more than any king and his mountainous crown.

"Your Grace!" some cried, some fell to their knees, and some reached out just to touch her skin. "Hail Queen Anne, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy!"

"Please," she chuckled, touching the hands of each man, woman and child who offered and smiling at them in turn. "Please, no titles this morning. I hope you are all able to enjoy a nice breakfast?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," said a man who looked to be in his early fifties. "I have never had chocolate cake before. I never thought I would."

Anne felt her heart warm. "I promise I'll personally bring cake to the home of every poor man and woman when I am able," she laughed, "and the kingdom will never grow hungry again."

"If hunger is the price I have to pay for my daughter to get as much education as any nobleman's son, then I would starve for the rest of my life." The man seemed near tears. Anne knew if she looked upon him any longer, she would fare no better. "You have given all of us more than we could ever dream for. Bread and water is enough to see my children through school and my daughters safe to walk down the streets alone at night." He took her hands in his. "Hail Queen Anne, Mother of Mercy."

"Hail Queen Anne, Mother of Mercy!" the rest of the group shouted, raising their glasses of water and sealing their pledge with a toast.​

 

[Falcon]

The sun woke Nicoli later than he had anticipated rising. Yet the day before had not only included late hours, but a hard ride all of the morning, a baffling encounter with an old woman, and an equally baffling encounter with the Queen albeit in an entirely different way. He dressed hastily in the everyday onyx armor of the Queen's personal guard and nearly tripped over a squire ans he navigated his way through the bunk room in the attempt to make his way swiftly to where he thought Queen Anne would be, only to have Captain Oswin pull him aside before he could do so much as limp out the barracks door.

"Pull yourself together, lad" the salt and peppered haired man hissed, "If you cannot fake being whole this morning I will send another in your place, but for Gods sake don't ever give a potential enemy even the slightest hint of a reason to doubt your ability!"

Nicoli straightened his posture immediately and stiffed a yawn. "Is her Grace tending the poor this morning? I heard something about the remnants of yesterday's meal being handed out?"

"Where else would she be?" came the curt reply punctuated by a deep frown. "I wish she would show just a bit more caution. How do we protect her from an assailant's knife when she insists on walking among the unknown?" Nicoli nodded and moved off, but before he was quite out of range he heard the captain murmur, "If you're not careful, that leg will be the death of you."

"Technically this leg saved me," he sighed, "and I've navigated the last two years as I am, I'm sure I can manage one more," Nicoli answered without looking back, but he paused, "Though there may come a point where I have to take you up on that offer. Thank you my friend." He could almost hear Oswin smile and shake his head as he walked away.

***​

Nicoli found he queen rather easily. Had he not known where she would be the praise of those surrounding her would have quickly clued him in. The knight couldn't help but smile as he watched those in need gratefully accept food from her hand, the sight so different from when he had been a boy. There was no shoving or jostling to get to the front of the line, no angry murmurs at the size of the portion or sorrow that someone else had more. These people understood that all must make the best in these bad times, and that each man woman and child was allotted a portion depending on the size of their family. Any conflict that did occur was taken care of quickly and calmly. Still, that did not keep his eyes from scanning every person for a sign of danger. Her Majesty's safety did and would always come first.

The sound of the courtyard door opening announced the presence of another and Nicoli turned slightly to take note of King Anton entering the area shepherded by several palace servants. The King seemed to be in bright spirits, even whistling a child's tune softly under his breath, as he approached the Queen and at the first available moment took her hand, raising it to his lips as he bowed, holding it a few seconds longer than necessary before he let it go. Nicoli suppressed a flash of irritation at the sight. There was something about the King that he didn't like, and it had nothing to do with the rumors he had heard prior to the man's actual arrival.

"My dear," Anton started giving her a warm smile, "I know we were supposed to breakfast together, but I'm afraid I could not wait another moment to see your face. That and I had an idea I wanted to discuss with you when you have time. Of course the needs of your people must always come first, but as you must eat at some point I thought to escort you to table when you were ready, and perhaps talk on the way?"

 

[moffnat]

So engrossed was she in the task of feeding the poor, that when King Anton approached it nearly frightened her out of her skin. Anne had been under the impression that he was to wait for her in the dining hall, as any normal suitor would have certainly done, but as he brushed his lips against her knuckles and rubbed them with his rough thumb, her heart seemed to stop. And certainly not in the way that fairy tales praised.

He is in a rush, and much happier today than he was yesterday. Something has changed him. Naturally, the little queen smiled brightly at his feigned kindness and went about providing introductions between him and her poorer residents, making sure to label him as "King Anton of Leondeal" rather than anything that might suggest they were familiar. She watched the looks on the faces of her people as Anton addressed her as "dear", however, and while they began to chatter excitedly she could only admit to the turning of her stomach. She kept her suspicions to herself, though flashed her personal guardsman a look that might alert him to her thoughts.

"King Anton," she said formally, as if they were meeting for the first time. She curtsied appropriately. "I fear I am in no state to receive you. I only just woke and roused from my chambers." Soft tendrils of chestnut hair reached towards the base of her spine, framing her face and seemingly lightening her blue eyes in the shade of the morning. "If you will offer me a moment to wait, however, I would be honored to accompany you to the castle when I am finished here."

I will make him wait for me. This was her kingdom, her people, her rules. King Anton had disturbed her meetings with the public and for that, she was certainly irritated, though Anne tried desperately not to let it show.

"May our benevolent queen have a pleasant day," said a woman who gripped her hands lovingly. "We thank the gods for you, Majesty. I am certain your father, may he rest in peace, would smile upon your good deeds."

"Just as he smiles upon your good heart, my lady." Anne beamed and kissed the forehead of the woman, waving goodbye to the subjects she had spoken with before letting the knights continue to feed them with what little leftovers remained.

"Walk with me, King Anton." She gestured for him to follow. "You spoke of something you had in mind? I should certainly love to hear it, especially if it comes from the lips of one so gracious as you."

Blegh, she thought inwardly.​

 

[Falcon]

Nicoli saw the look in his Queen's eyes, the one that silently said she did not like the situation. He slipped closer. A single step beyond what was customary for him to follow at. Not only did it place him within easy reach should something go amiss, but every single guardsman in the courtyard took note of it. Oh very few of them reacted visually, But Nicoli could see their eyes suddenly track the man and his own guards. Something had put the Queen's knight on alert, and so they were wary as well.

A few peasants picked up on it as well. As easily as they had picked up on the King's miscalculation and the use of the word "dear." Some did know how to pay attention and the old cobbler even sent Nicoli a nod, right before he jabbed the gossiping woman next to him causing the raise of an eyebrow and a calculating look to be shot at the King, if dull grey eyes hidden behind folds and wrinkles can be called calculating.

There was no time for more, however, Queen Anne was moving on, the king with her, and Nicoli followed. Still a single step closer than he should have been.

"Forgive my earlier boldness, My Lady Queen." The king was saying, "I'm afraid in my excitement I forgot myself. That and there's nothing quite like a good rest to brighten a man's spirits when he's spent most of the day in a saddle."
Good, Nicoli mused, then he knew of his mistake. Or was that good?

"My idea was this. Instead of feasts and parties and the usual fanfare that would normally follow the visit of one royal to another, why don't we set aside the money that would normally be put into such extravagance and throw a tournament instead? Not just any tournament either. One where any man above a certain age, say sixteen, could enter without entry fee, though of course donations would be welcome from those who can afford it, and they compete not for any monetary prize, but simply for the honor of being called the winner. Unless of course your Highness can think up something better? a flower wreath perhaps?

"I further propose that any donations and the difference between the tournament and the money that would have been spent on feasts and such, on my side of the matter as well, be used instead to fund the purchase of more food for those poor souls I saw outside, or any other project necessary for their happiness and well-being? not only would they have full bellies, but entertainment to lighten the heart."

Nicoli's eyebrows nearly climbed off his forehead before he caught himself and straightened his features. This was a decent attempt at a save indeed. He almost wondered if this whole idea had been thought up on the spot as an attempt at recovery, or if it was in fact the question King Anton had actually wanted to propose.

 

[moffnat]

"There is nothing to forgive," Anne lied, though she was convinced Anton knew exactly what he was doing when he spoke. "Though I would advise against it in the future, if you will humor me. I prefer to be called by my name and nothing more." She kept her tone stern, but when she realized that a bit too much of her attitude had gotten through, she chuckled and smiled innocently. "At least, where my subjects are concerned."

The little queen folded her hands in front of her, listening to the proposal he made and considering it more than she ought to. There was nothing to be argued, no loophole to worm her way into that would rip the carpet out from underneath him. So struck was she, that the queen stopped walking and turned to look at her royal guest, perplexed, bewildered, and most of all grateful.

"Do you mean it?" she inquired, looking up at His Grace with a suspicious glance. "You would sacrifice any earnings for the sake of feeding a people that don't belong to you?"

Anne was hardly convinced, though he seemed genuine, which either made him an honest man or a dangerous liar. She had heard the rumors of how he kept his own kingdom, and wealthy though he was, his people suffered. Why then, would ReValya change such habits? Or had they not changed at all, and he was simply doing whatever he could to ensure her approval of his potential proposal of marriage?

Anne glanced to Nicoli, silently beckoning him to take a step closer, but it was a look only her guards would know. She kept it hidden from Anton as best she could, still thinking him unworthy of her trust.​

 

[Falcon]

"Call you by your name and nothing more?" Anton questioned with a sly smile, "Anne, then - then I request you to please call me by my name as well." The smile he settled on her was kind as he listened to her praise his idea. But internally he was ticking over every point, comparing it to the advice he had received, and calculating for all possible consequences. At the same time his mind landed on a number of questions. Did she know how much ground she had given by allowing him the use of her name? was it a ploy? or had it been an innocent slip of the tongue that led to his gaining an advantage. She could not take it back now.

"People are people, and hunger is hunger," he said in reply to her question of his sincerity, "I do not see how location should change that." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the her guard shift forward to lean against a pillar. The knight seemed relaxed, but any truly good man of the sword would. Anton didn't know if he should be cautions or relived. A man like that could notice anything, but a man of less merit might be inclined to do something stupid. Anton supposed that if he had to choose he would take a cunning enemy over a stupid one any day. An ignorant man was more dangerous for his ignorance, a cunning man's move would be calculated and that lent them some degree of predictability. Besides, there was no need to suppose a mere soldier would know anything about politics. Still it might be best to see if he could give Saurella enough for a reading.

"Besides,"Anton continued, noting something akin to puzzlement in Anne's features, "I must admit to some selfishness in this request." Whether is was puzzlement of him or his actions, or something else entirely he could not say. "You see I intend to compete and win myself, and I prefer praise and glory over monetary compensation. One is too easy to misuse, the other must be meant sincerely, or so one hopes."

 

[moffnat]

Anne watched the king's face for any signs of a lie--a twitched mouth, shifting eyes, stumbling feet--but King Anton had none of the above and she wasn't sure whether that was comforting or unsettling. She sighed inwardly as he called her Anne, but she knew that was a trap she had only walked herself into and there was no taking it back now.

Just like the kiss upon my cheek last night.

"Very well, then." Anne smiled amiably, trying to keep her suspicions to herself. "I accept this proposal, sire. Though, naturally, I hope you would see to the arrangements? I have a kingdom to run and I can't spare too much of my time on details, but since you seem rather disposable towards the matter, I would be delighted to see what you come up with."

Anne flashed a friendly smile, one of charm and grace and undeniable beauty. This would be a test of sorts. She would witness his skills under pressure, his ability to please the people with this entertaining distraction he seemed to want so much for her needy. Anne would watch him prepare with her leaders, discuss boundaries, food, singers, all the other merriment that came along with such an event, all while she sat comfortably on the sidelines writing treaties and coming up with more clever ways to save her subjects without needs of a royal marriage.

"When shall this tournament be held?" she inquired, resuming her walk with him, letting the breeze blow her curls around her face. Anne struggled to put them behind her ears, more in control. "On the morrow, perhaps? If my gracious guest can complete such a task within so little time, that is." There was a hint of challenge in her voice. "I would hate to inconvenience you."​

 

[Falcon]

Well played! Nicoli thought to himself as he watched his Queen turn what started out as an overstepping of personal boundaries into a task designed to give her a bit of peace. Anton would have to give the event the whole of his attention to have everything ready by the next day, or risk looking the fool before the entire populace. It also meant the King would have little ability to monopolize the Queen's time.

"Oh, no, I welcome the challenge," the King murmured, though Nicoli spotted the faintest narrowing of the man's eyes that indicated he understood what she had just done. "Though perhaps you might find some time as we break our fast to indicate to me if you have any preference as to the order of things, and if there are any among your staff whose expertise I should seek out?"

Nicoli managed the slightest shake of his head at that. It was an indirect question of who on her staff she trusted the most. Any servant could tell the king what he wished to know, but those the Queen personally recommended, Should the man have any untoward plan up his sleeve they would be the first marked in one way or another. Nicoli may only bee a poor soldier and stableman's son, but even he knew that much.

 

[moffnat]

"But of course!" Anne chuckled innocently. "It would be terrible of me to ask you to do this thing without providing some form of assistance. I'll give you with a list of names when I'm prepared to break my fast, which should be relatively soon. I need to change and bathe like a proper lady ought to before seeing her guests, but you ambushed me." She smiled and played the pretty little fool. "Might I ask you to wait in the small dining hall while I prepare? I shan't be more than a half hour, I promise."

Offering a curtsy, she didn't leave him much choice or time to respond. Anne was gone in a whirl of chestnut hair and blue silks, rounding the corner and entering the base of her chamber's tower without another word.

"M'lady?" came the maid's gentle voice as a stressed, upset Queen Anne reentered her bedroom stop the stairs once more. "What troubles you?"

"A great many things, Diana." Anne frowned, pulling her hair over her shoulders and playing with the ends, the way she did whenever she was stressed and didn't know what to do. Her mind was reeling over all the possible mistakes she had just made--her stubbornness had gotten in the way once more, and Anne could only hope she hadn't offended King Anton with her cruel, unintended japes. But what's done is done. There's no taking it back now.

"I'll draw you a bath, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Diana. You're such a wonderful help."

Minutes later, Anne was soaking in a tub of hot water and gilded silver. She watched the steam rise and flood the room, making it feel like a small sauna of marble and royal decor. Her muscles relaxed under the feel of the heat as if it were a lover's touch, and she closed her eyes to the sensation.

"What do you think of this King Anton, Diana?"

The servant girl smothered a small cloth with soap, sitting on a small stool adjacent from the tub itself. Diana leaned forward and took the queen's arm in one hand, scrubbing lightly, and while she felt there was no need for yet another bath at the expense of the queen's time she knew that Her Majesty tended to seek the tub for a sense of relief.

"My opinion?" She sighed. "I think he's a right liar an' a prick."

"What makes you say so?"

"I walked by his room last night and heard a woman's voice sayin' stuff, but I couldn't hear nothin' imparticular." Diana frowned. "I know that there were no women in the room with him neither, 'cuz all the knights and servants swear that no one went in or out besides the mountain king hisself."

"A woman's voice?" That was strange indeed. "Do you know more of it?"

"Not at all, m'lady. Only that his clothes were all tossed about the floor like a whorehouse when the maids come to clean."

"Hm. I'll have to keep that in mind." Anne opened her eyes, leaning forward when Diana was done washing her arms so that she could scrub her back. The girl was younger than her by two or so years, but gentle and kind and Anne wanted no one else as her personal handmaiden, even one with more wisdom and experience. "I hope none of the men have been giving you trouble."

"No, Your Grace," she replied. Diana had been a victim of rape before Anne had taken her from the streets and raised to her a proper lady, and while at first she was teased for her low birth and gods-awful accent, Anne made sure the girl was well provided for and that no one would insult her again. It was because of Diana that Anne had decided to make a women's shelter in the first place, and while the building took a decent chunk of money from the crown each year, one look at Diana's smile made it all worth it for the queen.

"But," said the serving girl, "I heard a few men talkin' 'bout you, majesty. The king's men. They..." She paused.

"Go on."

Diana swallowed. "They were bettin' on what your breasts looked like."

"My breasts?" Anne threw her head back and began to laugh, a sound that only paraded a shred of her amusement. "Are you serious?! Gods! What kind of men does he keep in his company?"

"I dunno," said the chuckling maid, "but that only adds to what I think o'him. A downright prick to keep company with folks like tha'."

"Well, thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it. Please, fetch a dress for me, the one with the beaded bodice. I do so love that one, and perhaps it will get the men to talk more about my breasts so that I can catch them in the act and remind them of what they can never have."

Diana smiled, bowed, and did as she was told. Within the allotted time that Anne had given Anton, she was downstairs and dressed in simple stars, not even a crown upon her head and her hair back in a low half-bun that still let her curls hang loose. She bowed upon seeing the king, keeping all Diana had told her in the back of her mind.

"My lord," she stated. "Thank you so much for waiting on me once more."​

 

[Falcon]

"The anticipation can only make the pleasure of seeing your face once more, greater." Anton answered letting the chocolate pools of his eyes flick across the beaded bodice of her dress before he brought them up to the face he so easily spoke of. He was supposed to convince her he wanted her after all. "But it is your presence and company that I truly desire. As much as I enjoy planning events, it will take me away from your side until everything is complete."

He grinned and pulled out her chair before a servant could perform the duty, yet his eyes flicked over her shoulder to where the Queen's knight stood, leaning against a wall, arms crossed nonchalantly, his short dark hair still slightly messed from sleep. The man's glance said he was alert though, and Anton suppressed the urge to peek over his shoulder at Lampkin to see how his own man measured up. But it would be fine, he told himself, Lampkin knew his duty. Anton trusted him not to sully his name. Not here, not now, not with so much at stake.

Only then did it occur to him that Lampkin might actually be the most reputable of the bunch he had brought with him. It might prove prudent to have a word with them about the behavior expected of them . . . just as it might prove prudent to blindfold himself next time he spoke to Saurella.

During his wait Anton had heard a little bit of the chatter surrounding the state of his rooms that morning. Lampkin's trick with the cider had provided a misdirect, but it wasn't working quite as well as hoped as for as far as gossiping mouths were concerned. Worse, Anton knew it was entirely his own fault. He should have made a point of redressing afterwards. As he couldn't be confidant in his ability to be aware of such things in the future he considered it best to avoid the situation all together. Still, he wasn't entirely sure Saurella would be understanding.

But now was not the time for his mistress to occupy his thoughts. Now he needed to keep his attention on the woman he intended to make his wife.

"Tell me Anne," He started filling a glass from a pitcher on the table and setting it beside the Queen's plate, "Do you think it would be better to provide food from the palace for this event, or would your people better appreciate the opportunity to purchase and sell their own?"

 

[moffnat]

His flattery was wasted. While he seemed kind and genuine with a smile that made Anne continuously question her resolve, she knew better than to fall into the trap of a man like him. Dangerous as he was, he had yet to show such negative potential, yet Anne wasn't at the point where she could disregard the warnings of her maids and guardsmen.

Not yet, anyway.

"You are too kind," she said, returning the flattery but not without noticing the way he eyed her bodice. "There should be more men in the world who are as chivalrous as you." Anne picked up the wine he offered and sipped lightly, politely.

"Hmm...I think we should allow the poor to set up their own shops of food and merchandise for the tourney. It will encourage local businesses that may be struggling and provide my servants with a bit of relief. Cooking for one with as much royal taste as your own must be hard on them, I'm sure." Anne chuckled and set her wineglass back on the table, briefly ignoring the food laid before her as she chatted with King Anton. "I hope you agree."

While Anne was curious to see what he had in mind for this useless tourney, she would not allow him to have complete decision. Such a mistake would only boost his ego and cause him to get far too familiar with her kingdom, alongside other warnings such as inappropriate music, dancing, or anything else that Queen Anne knew her people wouldn't appreciate. That was not to say that King Anton was partial to those things, but men were fools, and they did not think of a kingdom the way women did.

These are my people, she thought. My children. I won't let him take control of their entertainment completely.​