In the Name of a Queen



Anton froze as she stepped up to him and placed her hand on his chest. What is her game? His ears tuned to every word his eyes peering into her own and at her lips as she spoke by turns. He didn't understand. How could she have gone from an innocent child on the threshold of womanhood to this - this playful minx without him seeing it. Had he been so wrong in his initial estimation of her character? Or had she been a quick study and learned how to play since then. If so who had been her teacher? Had he done so unintentionally himself?

He did not doubt her words were true, that she had told him honestly at least a part of what she wanted and then left him with a riddle. That riddle. What did it mean? What did she want? What was it he was supposed to offer that she did not posses?

He watched the door for a long time after she left, her image and voice burned into his mind. It was with a sinking realization that he suddenly knew that he could not be the man Queen Anne had described. He had abandoned that path long ago. There was only one thing for it . . .

"I'll just have to fake my way until the wedding bells ring."

He sought his bed then, glancing first at the little mirror on his table, wondering if he shouldn't fill Saurella in before he slept, but some part of him whispered that he was not up to playing her games as well as the Queen's, not without sleep first. So he put the call off, climbed between the sheets, and closed his eyes.

For the first time in a long while he began to pray to the Gods. Not for the kingdom's prosperity, or success in his endeavors at an alliance without war, or even the motivation to behave honorably, but that sleep would claim him quickly and Queen Anne would not haunt his dreams.





"No, it's all right," Nicoli quickly tried to correct himself at Diana's apologies, albeit kindly, "it's just a sore subject and I --" but the next moment the Queen had entered and the knight was left to feel horrible at the discomfort his own blundering words had caused someone who had only meant well. He owed Diana and apology and he knew it. He would do everything he could to assure her the fault was his own, but it would have to wait as the state Anne seemed to be in had put him immediately on his guard.

He had not missed that manner of her dress, no man could, but what concerned him far more was her sudden downing of the wine. Did she go to see the king clothed thus?! and nearly drunk as well? or is the drinking his fault?

Had she entered smiling his reaction might have been far different. He would have had to restrain himself from admiring all he saw, and wishing on some level it might have been for him. But as the situation was, with Queen Anne in such obvious distress, there was only room for the thought to flash briefly across his mind before it was taken over with concern.

He removed his knee from the stool, sitting straighter, as the Queen took the space across from him, then watched in alarm as she dismissed someone who so clearly cared for her as she began to pace. Nicoli made a point of returning Diana's worried look with a nod. He would do what he could.

"My Queen?" he asked, carefully rising to his feet as the door clicked closed. "Highness? Something has distressed you." He approached her hesitantly and uncertain. This was not a situation he was used to, comforting someone, or at least not someone not of the guard. A solution escaped him, and the best he had to offer was words. Technically that was all he was allowed to offer.

"Perhaps it will be better if you eat something? I was told you had not had dinner and a full stomach does much more for clear thought and comfort than a wine fumed head. I do not envy the headache you will have if you do not." He very carefully and gently reached a hand for her elbow, attempting to guide her back to a seat. "Please, Your Grace," he continued softly, "at least have a cracker or two. And if you will - tell me how I can ease your burden?"
 
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"Ease my burden." She looked up at him and chuckled, sweet Ser Nicoli, ever loyal and gallant with all the qualities she had described to King Anton only moments ago. "If only you could, dear knight. If only you could."


She watched the way his eyes were so hesitantly watching her, so reserved in how they appreciated her dress. A part of her wanted to admit she had dressed herself to see him, picked the colors precisely to match his eyes or his hair or some other ridiculous notion, but that would be a bitter lie and she had no intention of fouling his trust. Anne smiled at how gentle he looked without any armor--so different from the Nicoli she was used to, so friendly and handsome, so similar to the princes she read about in her stories as a child.

And sadly, she began to laugh.

"Oh, look at you. You're so sweet. You look more a farmboy than a knight today. But it's a nice change, it suits you." Anne moved to her vanity, empty glass in hand, cupping some water from the basin and pouring it softly on a small rag. When it was damp enough, she began to scrub the makeup from her face, and slowly a queen became only a young girl once again. A sleep-deprived, malnourished, intoxicated young girl.

"I'm sorry," she admitted. "It must be strange for you to see me like this. I...sometimes I need a night to let go, you know? To put all the stresses of my life behind me and just forget who I am. It's terribly irresponsible of me, yes. But that's alright. My kingdom hasn't perished from my foolishness just yet." Anne filled the goblet with wine once more and drank, moving to her bed and summoning him to her. She sat in the center against the pillows, propped up against the headboard of her giant mattress and gestured to a spot in front of her.

"Come. Sit," she told him, tossing a pillow to where she intended him to perch himself. "We're not going to be a knight and a queen now, Nicoli. Just friends for tonight. Friends telling stories over glasses of wine, crackers and cheese."
 
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Nicoli was relieved when she moved to her table and then to her bed, relaxing against the headboard. He had little idea of how to handle her invitation to sit by her, or her announcement that, for this night at least, she did not want him to treat her as a queen. How then should he behave? Knighthood was all he had known for the last handful of years.

As he settled onto the edge of the bed, careful to keep his feet on the floor, he determined that he would have to gauge his behavior by her own. His eyes tracked her wine, unsure how much she had really had, and his hand carefully nudged the food tray towards her. He said nothing until he had seen her eat at least two pieces from it, and then not knowing what she was expecting chose his words carefully.

“Did something happen?” he asked taking a bit of cheese for himself, “Or is there something else you would like to think of?” It was hardly eloquent, but at the moment he didn’t know what words to say.
 
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"Oh, no. Nothing happened." It was an obvious lie, her voice laced with sarcasm as she patted the space in front of her again. "Come here, not there. Take your shoes off too, I don't want my bed dirty." She took another bit of cheese, placing the slice between two crackers like a sandwich and biting into it. She brushed away the crumbs that fell.


Anne was a happy drunk, that much was clear. Even as she opened her mouth to speak of her troubles she was smiling again, bright and elegant despite the controversy of perversions people are prone to when alcohol is involved. She took another bite of her makeshift dinner and cleared her throat.

"I have to seduce Anton," she stated, giggling as if she had just told some sort of joke. "I have to make him want me and do whatever it takes to have me. I have to see his intentions, I have to know what he wants. And more importantly, I have to discover if he is truly guilty of the biggest crime ReValya has ever known." Anne reached over and downed another goblet of wine, this time setting it on the platter and waiting to refill it. Her face had suddenly turned somber, upset, and it looked as if she might cry.

"Tell me about your parents, Nicoli. Were they nice people?"
 
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He knew she was lying, but it was hardly his place to press the issue, especially if she didn't want to talk about it. He hesitated when she ordered him closer and without his boots, not particularly wanting to display his wooden limb and liking even less to remove it. But after a moment the boots were abandoned and he had settled awkwardly into place, letting his trouser legs cover what they could of his feet - one normal if slightly bony looking in its stocking, the other a simple rounded oval of solid oak.

When her giggling drunken nature was revealed along with her intentions to seduce the king, Nicoli was sorely tempted to take the wine away from her entirely. He disliked the idea of her having to turn to liqueur for comfort. He liked the idea of her having to put herself in the position of being used by Anton even less. His talk over mugs of fine ale with the King earlier had left him with the impression that in the King's eyes no one ranked higher than a pawn, tools to be used to gain his will. He could see she was still upset though, and as she asked after his parents he felt a tugging in the core of his chest that had little to do with the suddenly somber look on her face.

"I would say they were kind, yes," Nicoli answered leaning back on his palms, trying to relax without looking like he was taking advantage of his position on the bed, which was quite honestly the softest mattress he had ever felt. "Stern parents for a young troublemaker, but I would claim my father was among the kindest men I ever knew."

He smiled suddenly giving a soft chuckle. "If he passed someone in the street who looked even remotely hungry he'd invite them home for supper with us, no matter how little we actually had. My mother never once berated him for it, or if she did it was not in my hearing. He grew up on Uncle Tomas's farm. They were half brothers actually. My father was from my Grandmother's first marriage, but after she was widowed she was fortunate enough to find love again. Papa Stephen loved both boys equally, but a farm is a hard thing to split for an inheritance. Rather than cheat his brother, my father sought work elsewhere. There was a horse breeder who would rent one of the fields sometimes when he brought the horses to market and father would help out. When he came of age the man took a liking to him and got him an apprenticeship to the palace stable master.

"My mother was a serving girl to one of the outlying nobles. I don't know the whole story, but they came to visit the palace and there was a huge fiasco. The noble was embezzling tax money or something and my mother learned of it and sent a letter to the authorities. The noble discovered in was her and had the guard searching the castle on a story of theft or something. My father risked his own position to hide her in the stable loft until everything was straightened out. In the end the noble's lands and titles were forfeit to the crown and my mother, as a reward for her honesty, was offered a new position at the castle. She and my father were married the following spring. She used to joke that if she never had another adventure she'd be perfectly happy."

Nicoli smiled slightly as he studied the Queen, pleased that this time he had been able to offer up a happy story, instead of blundering again as he had with the song. At least, he hoped she found the tale pleasant. "What else would you like to know?"
 
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"Aww," she chuckled, resting her hands in her lap and looking at Nicoli with admiration. If she looked hard enough, Anne wondered if she could see the reflection of his parents in his eyes. "It's so lovely to hear a pleasant story when the world is filled with so many sad ones. I always love hearing things from the peasants and the poor. They appreciate the little things so much more than any noble or royal I've ever met."


Anne picked up a handful of grapes, popping them in her mouth one by one until the lot of them were gone. She reveled in the silence a moment, trying her hardest not to think about the feel of Anton's chest or the depth of his chuckle, and rather on more pleasant things like a scullery maid and her stable hand.

"My parents were a much less romantic story," the queen offered with a small giggle. "My father was the firstborn prince of ReValya--the only prince at that. He had two older sisters, my aunts, one of which perished on the birthing bed while the other ate herself to the grave. Ah, but that's a moot point. Anyway. My father grew up as men do, and shortly before he was crowned my grandfather insisted that he marry. So, he found a young girl from the kingdom of Paladia to the east and wed her when she was the age of fifteen. Isn't that absurd? I don't know what I would do if my father married me off so young." Anne sighed, picking at a grape before eating it. "Mmm. Delicious. Anyhow, they married and didn't know a thing about each other, but they forged love over the years I suppose. My parents were always content together. Never head over heels in love, but they were happy. A year after their marriage my brother was born, and the rest is history."

The queen curled her hair behind her ears, picking up a piece of sliced yellow cheese and taking a bite. Once again she looked somber and contemplative, trapped in the confines of her mind in search of answers she didn't seem to have.

"I want a love like your parents had, Nicoli. I don't want to just be content with whomever I'm forced to spend my life with."
 
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Nicoli smiled sadly, not quite meeting her eyes. “I like to think most people would say the same, though I suppose sometimes people feel they must choose economy over the heart. I wish it were not so.”

He took a cracker, but rather than eating it studied the food, turning it over in his hands as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “There are poor who when offered the opportunity to marry for wealth and security, feel they must do so rather than follow their heart. Never having been married myself I could not tell you which would be the harder path to follow, to marry for love and go without or to marry without love and have everything else . . . Perhaps sir Tristen will be able to tell you something useful when he returns?”

He nibbled on the cracker a bit and took a slow sip of his wine, trying to seem relaxed, but his head was a mess. He was a stable boy turned knight, not the son of a noble. He had not been raised to politics, and while he could follow them well enough the subtleties escaped him. Had their positions been reversed Nicoli would simply have changed the law so that he might marry whoever he wished while finding another way to forge an alliance. He felt ill qualified to offer Anne advice, especially not on the subject of marriage. Odds were he would never be married himself and so he had never bothered to give the matter much thought. Truth was he did not believe any woman would want to be wed to a cripple. Certainly not one who would have very little to offer should he lose his position, and Nicoli was smart enough to know he would not be able to fight forever.
 
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It was painfully obvious to Anne that Nicoli was uncomfortable with their current situation. And why shouldn't he be? The woman he had sworn his life to was looking beautifully seductive, had intoxicated herself after flirting with a suspicious king whom she had expressed her distaste for on multiple occasions, and instead of plotting to further the prosperity of her poor valley kingdom Anne had lost herself to wine and threats. She was no monarch today. Just a drunken little fool who chased fairy tales.


Her expression grew sad, a distant sadness that stole every sparkle from her eyes. She was present and floating all at once, thinking on her troubles and fighting with pirates on the sea or letting a strong handsome knight rescue her from the tallest of towers. In the depths of her heart Anne was nothing more than a girl with dreams. A stupid girl, she thought angrily, who never learns.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, sighing to herself. "I'm so terribly sorry, Nicoli. I have been a waste of your precious time tonight when you should be resting, doing something comforting. And I'm certain that this is not comfort."

Resting back on the pillows, Anne folded her hands over her stomach and looked to the painted ceilings of angels and various gardens. "Before you leave, if you decide to do so, I have a favor to ask. If you don't mind."
 
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"What?" Nicoli started suddenly catching the sadness in her eyes. "No, no don't be sorry. I must be poor company indeed if I've cause you more trouble. Please, Highness, do not think you've done anything wrong or to upset me." His hand moved as if to reach for her but he stopped himself, managing to look both concerned for her, and ashamed of himself in the same instant.

"Please, I will listen to whatever it is you want to say, for however long it is you wish to talk. The hour makes no difference to me as Captain Oswin has ordered me on medical leave until the doctor says other wise. I have no obligation to be elsewhere. I am simply unaccustomed to being asked for advice, and I fear I do not have the experience under my belt to be any good at it. I - I fear I simply did not want to disappoint you by looking like a fool when you have already shown so much faith in me. Not when i have already so badly disappointed you." His eyes dropped to his hands again and then rose to meet hers. The honest earnestness in them seemed to declare that he truly did mean every word he said.

"I will do any favor you ask, up to and including kicking King Anton from the castle, at any time you ask it." A small smile tugged at his lips and what he added on next was said almost jokingly. "I say anything because I trust you, unlike our visiting royal guest, will not ask something that might compromise my, or another's, honor." A remark he could reasonably expect to be punished for, but in his earnestness he believed it was worth the risk.

He sat up then and bowed neatly and almost formally from his seated position. "Crown aside, you are among the kindest and bravest women I have ever known. I can not imagine what it must be like to carry the burden you bare. Please, believe me when I say it is a privilege to serve you be it as your shield, or a listening ear. I did not mean to make you think I did not want to be here, I simply do not know what to do with myself and I am not at all opposed to the opportunity to learn."

if his knee had been in working condition he would have knelt before her. As it was he clapped a hand over his heart. "Use me however you see fit. In the future if I am asked something on which I know nothing, or for a task I have never previously tried to preform, I shall tell you in the beginning that you may judge accordingly. The fault here is entirely mine."
 
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Anne closed her eyes and listened to the sincerity in his words, letting a little smile tug at the corners of her pink lips. She must have looked a vision of a fairy tale indeed, laying under the kiss of the moon, so pleasantly content to stay in such a place for as long as Nicoli's curse remained hanging over her head. As he spoke she listened closer than she had to anyone throughout the span of her young seventeen years. With each word her mind slowly slipped away, no longer understanding what he said, simply reveling in the roughness of his voice and the genuine honesty in his tone. He could be telling her that pigs fly and horses swim in the water like fish, and she would have believed it. She would believe anything that came from his lips.


The queen stole a few moments of silence for herself, almost asking her sweet knight to repeat everything he said in some vain attempt to hear him longer. After plenty of painstaking moments had passed, allowing Anne able to catch her breath from the calamity named Nicoli de'Arbolshire that had stolen it from her, she sat upright pushed the tray of food aside to scoot forward and take his hands in hers.

They were calloused and gentle, his hands. She brushed her thumbs along his knuckles and smiled at the little wave of affection that passed through her, so one-sided in the depths of her heart, so forbidden. Nicoli would be a good king, she thought sadly. The people would praise him as they starved to death.

"Every word you speak warms my heart," Anne told him honestly, lifting her eyes to his. "Every single word. I cherish you more than you can imagine, Ser Nicoli. There are none so devoted as you, so genuine and...and..." Perfect. She cleared her throat. "I value you greatly. I hope you know that, and when I asked you to unhorse Anton I didn't think you would take it so literally." Anne couldn't resist a little chuckle at the memory of the king's face as he went flying over the back end of his startled horse.

"Anyway, I digress. Tomorrow I want you to join me, Nicoli. Not as a knight. Not as the Head of my Queensguard, not even as friend if you do not desire it." Taking a deep breath, the queen brushed his knuckles with her thumbs a second time before making the small sliver of her plans known to him.

"I want you to come with me when I visit the Qualara tribe tomorrow night," she told him, "and no one, not a single soul is to know about it." Anne met his eyes with the deepest sincerity she was capable of in her intoxicated state. "Escort me into the mist wood where these Faeries make their home, enjoy their hospitality with me, and show them how kind and merciful ReValya's people can be. This is a task I can trust to you and you alone..."

...for you are the only one who will never fail me.
 
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Her hands were soft, Nicoli thought absently as she rubbed his knuckles, and so much smaller than his. He could probably fit both of hers within the grasp of one of his own. He felt so odd and clumsy as she studied his calloused fingers, so unworthy to even be in the same room, much less sitting on the royal bed as she asked him a favor.

He did not deserve her praise.

"You want me to go with you to the faeries?" he breathed slightly in shock at the boldness of this plan. "That is either completely brilliant in a way I don't quite understand, or absolutely mad." his fingers closed unconsciously over her hers, holding her hands back, as if to reassure himself that the woman before him, the woman he heard speaking, was actually there and this was not some kind of crazy dream. "I won't pretend to know why you've chosen me for this, there are many better suited, but I will do everything in my power to see you there and back, and not make a fool of myself in the meantime. Tell me what else do you need? horses? provisions? a guest gift?"

What was this? this protectiveness that he would agree to even this in his injured injured state? I know there are others who would be better, and yet he was strangely thrilled that she had chosen him above them all. Her hands were warm, and while a part of his brain had finally registered that he was still holding them, he was strangely reluctant to let her go. I cannot offer her a hug, or any number of other small things I might try, but maybe this little bit can help show my support.
 
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Queen Anne would not have let something so childish and insignificant as warm hands bother her, and yet at Nicoli's touch Anastasia's heart was all aflutter. She smiled down at them, watching the pair a moment and admiring the contrast, pale and delicate versus rough and laced with hardships. The queen took one of his palms, nearly twice the size of hers, and flipped it over so she could trace the lines gently with her fingertips.


"The faeries tell fortunes like this," she informed him if he didn't already hold such knowledge. "They say that a man's future can be read in the lines on his hands. How many children he will have, what kind of life he will lead, how many times he will marry. When he will die." Anne wondered briefly what Nicoli's lines meant, but she hadn't the skill nor the training to be able to decipher such things. Those were better left to the faeries and all their ilk.

"The Qualara tribe is due west of here, just pressing up against the base of the Prospyr mountain range. It is small and subdued, and they don't like visitors--wild faeries are often less willing to negotiate than those who have grown close to their human neighbors, but I hope to change things. Their support for ReValya and the protection we can offer them will be key for my upcoming plans, and crucial to thwart Anton's. It is no secret that he enslaves the Triali tribe just nextdoor to Leondeal, using the Dust there to force his kingdom into prosperity. It is my goal to rip out that carpet from under his feet and give ReValya a peaceful advantage, one that he cannot resist."

Anne looked up into Nicoli's eyes once more, recommencing his bewitchment over her fragile senses. "There is no one but you that I will take with me, and should you decline, I will go alone. Dear Nicoli, will you accompany me into the unknown?"

Without thinking, Anne affectionately outstretched a hand to caress his cheek.
 
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Nicoli had to force himself to breath as she traced the lines of his hand, unsure how to describe what her touch was doing to him. It should not be this way. He knew that. She was his queen and he was her knight and the relationship would never change, friendship or not. So what was it that caused his mind to tumble over the “what ifs?”

He listened as she explained her plan, nodding as he agreed, “you know I would not leave you to go alone.” A moment later as she reached to touch his cheek his eyes widened in confused surprise, turning his face into the gesture. Nicoli reached up a hand to cover her fingers and gently drew her hand back down. “Had I known you were going to do that I would have made a point to shave,” he joked with a flash of a good-humored smile. Nicoli briefly let his calloused thumb caress her knuckles, as she had for him, before giving them a gentle squeeze and pulling away.

“The journey will take up a good portion of the day,” he murmured, not quite willing to break what now seemed a pleasant mood, “and if you wish to go before anyone else learns of it, it would be advisable to leave early. We should both rest. Though if you should like another song or foot rub or anything before I go, I shall endeavor to do my best to please you. Making plans cannot have been very relaxing, and after a day like today –“ He started to say she needed to take better care of herself, but it was not his place.
 
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It was impossible to stop the laughter. Anne held her side and covered her mouth with the spare hand, clenching her eyes shut in utter destruction from the humor that swept through her. "A foot rub?" she nearly snorted. Clearly, the alcohol had taken ahold of her senses yet again. "Oh, gods. Do they train you do to do that as well in the knight's quarters?"


Anne picked up the tray and slid off the comfort of her bed, padding across the room to a gilded door adjacent to the garden window. With her hip, she bumped the door open and set the tray on a table beside a much smaller bed, Diana's chambers, and closed the door behind her.

"I would absolutely love a foot rub, and perhaps a massage too?" What was meant as a joke left Anne shivering at the thought of Nicoli's hands on her, so she quickly thought of something else. "How about a song and some juggling? Maybe a bit of theater? Do you know Yoren's monologue from The Wandering Princess?" Anne continued to laugh as she climbed atop the bed, all giggles and smiles, and it took mere seconds for her to lay on her back once more. Her arms and legs outstretched along the bed, yet there was still room for three more people to do the same and plenty leftover. "No, Nicoli. I'm sorry if I've made offense. I just found the thought amusing. While a massage sounds utterly delightful, that would be terribly inappropriate and I would not seek to make you less comfortable in my drunken presence." Lazily, the queen waved a hand. "You may go if it please you."

I should sleep. Anne looked out the window towards the moon and stars, sighing at how beautiful it seemed even from the odd angle at which she was laying. "What time should I meet you in the stables, ser? Before the sun rises?" The queen yawned to subconsciously show her distaste for the idea, but there might not be another option. "And we should take one horse instead of two as well, to avoid suspicion."
 
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Nicoli was a little uncertain what it was that had set off the laughter, but at least she was laughing. It was a pleasant change. He found he liked the sound of her laughing. He liked the sight of her smile even more, though he fought hard to keep his features blank when her mention of a massage put a thought in his head that should have caused him to blush shamefully. Nicoli was not Anton, but he was a man, and like most men he could be tempted to let his thoughts wander over a woman's form. Even one he had watch grow up from a child.

"Before first light would be preferable, yes," he answered her inquiry, "And my mount can carry two easily. I'll have everything prepared."

It was with a content smile that he slid from the bed and slipped his boots back on, leaning for balance against the mattress as he carefully stomped the wooden foot to make sure the boot was settled. "Sleep well, Your Grace," he continued with a bow, and a moment later he had exited her chambers closing the door softly behind him.

Nicoli was as good as his word when it came to keeping his promise to Diana. Fortunately Captain Oswin was still in his office and they had a lengthy conversation, the result of which was the immediate increase of the frequency of the guard rounds in the areas Anton's men frequented, including the kitchens, the wash area, and anywhere else where one of the palace women might be caught off guard alone as they walked from one point to the other. Nicoli hated that it was necessary, but he preferred to know that people could feel safe. He also made arrangements to have a berry tart sent to Diana along with a note of apology for his "grumpiness." Oswin found that amusing, but called Nicoli a good man and ordered him to bed.

"And stay off that knee!" the man snapped.
To which Nicoli immediately replied, "I was going to go for a long ride tomorrow. Will staying in the saddle most of the day be sufficient to please you?"
"No hiking."

The moon was still out when Nicoli woke rested and refreshed, and made his way first to the kitchens where he procured two day's rations, and then to the stables to ready his horse. He was unaware of what preparations Queen Anne might already have made, but in Nicoli's experience it was better to have too much rather than too little when it came to supplies. His armor he left behind. Not only was he in poor condition to fight, but by saddling the horse with two passengers their only recourse should they meet an enemy would be to flee. If that were the case the mount would be far faster without the added weight. besides, if he went out in armor Oswin would be suspicious.

Instead of his plate mail he was dressed in tunic and tabard, much had he had been the night before, with a nondescript forest green cloak thrown over to disguise the uniform from a distance. Behind the saddle he tied a bed roll, a tinder box, and a few essential items for camping gear. Anne had not exactly said how long they were to be gone, and on the off chance she intended to spend a night away he wanted to be prepared.

He had everything situated and ready by the time darkness began to turn slowly to twilight and he settled down on a bench to wait.
 
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Anne woke with a great smile, one that couldn't be shaken. She felt strong, powerful even, and though she had only slept four hours at most there was something rejuvenating about the task at hand. It elated her, kept the problems of ReValya at bay if only for a moment. This could be the key to saving her kingdom without the need of a royal marriage. This could be Queen Anne's salvation, and she was betting on it.


Under the cover of darkness, Anne was able to slip away from her tower chambers unnoticed. Diana was the only one who had been told of her absence for the day, the excuse being that the queen was feeling very ill and unable to see anyone no matter the circumstance. She wasn't certain if Anton would fall for such a white lie but it was all she had to think of, and while she crept across the gardens towards the outer stables where Nicoli was waiting for her, she whispered a silent prayer for protection. For hers and her knight's.

For once, she didn't have to worry about Anton.

Anne lifted the skirts of her pale blue dress and ascended the stairs, leaving castle grounds in search of their rendezvous point. She smiled upon seeing the buckskin prepared and ready for departure, yet she smiled even more to see the man with the saddle in his arms. The queen felt such joy to see Nicoli de'Arbolshire that she could have embraced him on the spot, but she knew better than to be so open with her affections and instead settled with a little giggle and a wave. Anne seemed to glow somehow, though the wine was long out of her system and she hadn't slept very well. She was infected with the relief of helping her kingdom, of mending bonds between races. She was high on the powers of being queen.

"Good morning," she told Nicoli as she stroked the horse's neck, cooing and giving words of encouragement for the journey ahead. "What is the horse's name? Looks like a strong one, really. Is he yours?"

The horse gave her a gentle nudge with his snout, and she chuckled and pet him more in response.
 
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There was that smile again, Nicoli noted with a lightness in he chest he couldn’t quite explain except with the idea that he was happy to find himself useful. He hoped by the end of this she would have even more reason to smile, that all would go well and this journey would not be in vain.

“Good morning,” he returned as he tightened the last of the straps holding their belonging to the saddle. “If you can call it that yet.” Up in the dark sky a few stars still twinkled as if to illustrate his point. The little light Nicoli had been working by came from a lone lantern set atop a tall post. He’d be able to put it out from the saddle before they left and with any luck it would be cool before the first stable-hand arrived to muck out the stalls. No one should be the wiser.

“His name is Red,” Nicoli answered when she queried after his horse. “And he’s a bit of an attention hog. A single handful of oats is usually more than enough to get him to follow me around like a lost puppy. A bit odd considering he’s battle trained. Most war horses have a bit more temper in them.” There was a twinkle in Nicoli’s eye that said he might just be exaggerating a little bit, but then Red was a favorite of his so he was entitled to think the animal special. “My father raised him from a colt and then made a gift of him the day I was made a knight.”

Red’s ears flicked back and he nickered as if he knew he was the current topic of conversation, but the horse contentedly left his nose in Anne’s hands, nuzzling a bit against her chest.

“I borrowed a larger saddle from the tack room in hopes that we might both ride more comfortably. Using my own would have put you squarely in my lap,” He stated as he bent down to double-check the girth. A moment later he realized that though said as a matter of the facts, such a thing was hardly appropriate to say to any woman, much less a queen and he found it fortunate that the shadow from Red’s bulk was enough to hide his expression. “Forgive me, apparently my lowborn manners tend to kick in when I’m up before the sun. I’ll do my best to temper that.” He smile was sheepish as he straightened, like a boy who had been caught fighting with his peers. “I mean only to explain that we could ride one behind the other, and to ask which seat you would prefer.”

He could protect her better if they each had their own horse, but as she had pointed out the night before, a single animal would be less easily missed.
 
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Anne laughed despite herself, and while the comment about being in his lap would be considered incredibly disrespectful for anyone to say to their queen, she thought the more dangerous aspect of it all was that a small part of her liked the idea. She flushed a bit, suddenly thankful for the darkness that would hide the pink tone to her cheeks.


"Lowborn manners?" she chuckled, shaking her head as she folded her hands in front of her. "On the contrary. I think a sense of humor is important in a personality, and so prevalent in yours." I like it, is what she was trying to say, but Anastasia knew she was treading on hazardous waters and thought better than to open her mouth. Surely he must know of my affections for him by now? What harm would a little phrase do?

But deep down, she knew the answer to that. The future of ReValya rested on her marriage to Anton. To allow herself little confessions and moments of controversy between herself and Nicoli would put the entire royal line in jeopardy, not to mention both their hearts. She knew better than to encourage herself.

And yet, she did so anyway.

"Red looks perfect for the job at hand. The faeries respect strength, at least the specific tribe we're to visit. He'll do perfect among them. Won't you?" Anne cooed to the beast, who nudged her happily in reply. She pulled an apple from the small pouch she had slung around her arm and gave it to him, chuckling as he devoured the entire thing in less than a few seconds. "I hope you fed him, Ser Nicoli," she teased playfully.

"I think I'll ride in the front, if you don't mind? I'd like to be able to see the scenery. It's a beautiful ride towards the mountains, I'm sure you remember." She lifted her skirts high, revealing cloth pants that ended just above her knees. "And don't worry about riding side saddle or chafing, I came prepared this time!"
 
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"That will certainly make things easier," Nicoli replied with a nod.

He finished with the last of the check over and then gestured for the Queen to get herself settled in the saddle. Once she was comfortable, and had cleared her foot of the stirrup, Nicoli put out the lantern and mounted behind her. He realized then that he really should have insisted on taking two horses. She need only lean back a little bit and the Queen would be set squarely against his chest. Not that he minded the idea at all. In fact what bothered him most was that the situation didn't bother him and he knew it should.

Situation number two arose when Red refused to let Anne direct him via the reigns. "Apparently you didn't feed him enough apples," Nicoli joked, attempting to keep the embarrassment from his face. "I'm sorry, this might be a bit awkward," and he reached around either side to take them from her, further encroaching on her space. He was grateful for the darkness of twilight as he felt the heat race up the back of his neck. when he accidentally brushed against her sides. He determined then to do his best to keep his arms balanced on his own knees and away from her as much as possible.

"Let me know if you need to stop or rest," he rumbled softly. A moment later he had directed Red out of the stable-yard and onto the road.
 
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Oh. She bit her lip as Nicoli mounted on the saddle just behind her, so close in proximity that he was more like the back of a chair rather than a person on horseback. She could lean against him if she wished it, and his arms around her body to hold the reins made her heart race faster than the speed at which they were moving, or so it felt. Anne wondered a moment if he could hear the pounding in her chest. Which would be worse, a confession of her comfortable discomfort or eavesdropping on the beat of her heart?


And gods, what of the sound of his voice? It had never been so close before, so near her ears and it stirred something in the pit of her stomach that was positively sinful. Anne busied herself counting the trees that passed and thinking on what she would say to the Faerie Queen rather than the sound of Nicoli's voice. She prayed that he wouldn't speak at all for the remainder of their journey, but she knew such a request was more ridiculous than reasonable, so instead of praying for his silence she prayed for her own resilience to his subconscious charm. I have to marry Anton. I have to, there's no other way around it and I can't let myself be fooled into thinking otherwise.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Anne realized just how truly tired she was. The silence between them was ended amiably and quickly as knight and queen couldn't resist conversation. The pair talked about all manner of things, from favorite foods and wines and sport to various states of affair throughout the kingdom. She appreciated his wisdom as much as his friendly company. But I have to marry Anton, she thought again, and wouldn't stop thinking it until the wedding bells chimed.

Slowly, chatter turned to mumbling, and mumbles turned to silence. Hours passed and the sun rose at high noon before Anastasia finally gave in to the sleep that so desperately called for her. Her lids gently closed and she was swept off to dreams of mermaids and a peaceful sea, not noticing the force of gravity letting her fall back against the chest of her dear knight.
 
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