K
Kythera
Guest
Original poster
"I expect you all to do everything humanly possible to uncover the culprits behind this... this..." Anne floundered, unable to think of a word strong enough to describe her feelings. At last she spat out, "This abomination!" Her fist banged down on the long wooden table, making the various papers, quills, and ink standishes littering its surface jump. Molly, the Great Dane lying on the floor beside the Queen's oversized chair, whined at the fire in her mistress's normally calm voice. Anne took a breath, and let one hand drop to her side where she slid the beads of her rosary through trembling fingers. This first meeting of her advisers since the coronation was not going as she had planned. Rather than taking cool and collected control of the country, she was forced to investigate an assassination attempt, and not one of her (apparently inept) councillors could tell her who had perpetrated such a vile act! It was beyond frustrating.
When she spoke again her voice was more controlled, but her grey eyes still blazed with anger. "Question everyone. Do whatever you need to, just find out who was behind this at once. Whoever it was shall be brought to swift justice, this I promise." She met each of their eyes, showing them all the determination behind her own. If they thought she was a weak-willed woman who could be ruled from behind or soon overthrown, they would quickly see their mistake. She was Queen here. She was Anne of England, and no one had more right to rule than her.
Anne nodded a curt dismissal, and her advisers scrambled to bow and exit the room. Only her closest confidantes lingered, chief among them Prince Charles. "Yes, Uncle?" sighed Anne, removing the heavy crown from her head and setting it down on the table. The dratted thing gave her terrible headaches. Or perhaps that was simply due to all the problems that seemed to be besetting her at once. She rubbed one temple as her uncle began to speak.
"You will need to keep an eye on Isabella. And York. They are not to be trusted, Anne. I'm certain one of them was behind the attack."
"I have already given orders to do so. If you have additional agents you wish to send, by all means do. But if you mean to imply I should have my own sister arrested for nothing more than a vague suspicion, then you are well out of line." Though he was standing and she was seated, her expression contained so much fierce authority that Charles shifted uncomfortably under gaze, feeling suddenly quite small.
"No, of course not, Anne, but-"
"Do you know, Uncle, I believe I would prefer that you called me 'Your Majesty'," Anne interrupted, smiling at him in a way that was by no means friendly. He bowed stiffly, but when he opened his mouth to speak again she forestalled him, saying simply, "You may go." He looked as if he would refuse to obey this command, but a glance behind him showed that others were still present, so he bowed again and swept from the room.
Anne turned to smile, much more warmly, at the Duke of Cambridge. "Yes, my Lord Steward?" she said, looking her cousin over. He was a handsome man, and nearly the same age as her. She was sure he had made many conquests already, though he had never been to Anne's taste. Besides being a year younger than her he was too fair. "I'm so pleased to see you have arrived at last, and in one piece," she said, tweaking him on his late arrival. This criticism seemed to pass over his head, or he politely ignored it. He handed Anne a stack of papers and requested her signature. She obliged him, then signed for him to leave.
At last it was just Anne and Sir Balder left in the room. Anne flicked her eyes over her for a moment before rising gracefully from her seat. "Well, Queen's Champion? Have they given you trouble yet?" She knew that in granting a commoner that exalted role she had rankled more than a few feathers, and probably put Balder in an awkward position. But she didn't care - with all the attempts on her life, on her father's life, all the threats to her throne, she needed someone she could trust in the position more than she needed to pacify the great nobles of the country. She wasn't even entirely sure why she trusted Balder so much. Perhaps it was his long record of service, or the fact that he wasn't of noble birth and part of the ambitious, plotting class that she so feared. But if she were truly honest with herself, it wasn't for any of those reasons that she trusted him. It was the honesty written plainly across his face, the steady, uncalculated look in his eyes when he spoke to her. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself, and much less to any of those many nobles, overlooked for the position, who had complained to her since her announcement. She had brushed these complaints aside, with a careful combination of vague explanation and an arch look that demanded what right they had to question her decision. But she guessed that these rivals would be more forthright with Sir Balder himself.
"Are you regretting it yet?" she asked with a half smile, but a little forlornly. She hoped he didn't regret taking on the role. Not simply for the honour or the glory of the job - but because she desperately needed a friend. She didn't think she could bear it if he were to cry off and leave her to the wolves that were her other advisers.
She glanced up at his face briefly, then busied herself with playing with a seal that was lying on the table beside her. "Do you think it was my sister?" she asked, not without a hint of pain in her voice. "Behind the attack?" Her eyes flew up to his again, trying to read his reaction. She thought she would be able to tell if he lied to her. Not that she expected him to do so... of all people she could trust him to tell her the truth, no matter how painful it might be.
When she spoke again her voice was more controlled, but her grey eyes still blazed with anger. "Question everyone. Do whatever you need to, just find out who was behind this at once. Whoever it was shall be brought to swift justice, this I promise." She met each of their eyes, showing them all the determination behind her own. If they thought she was a weak-willed woman who could be ruled from behind or soon overthrown, they would quickly see their mistake. She was Queen here. She was Anne of England, and no one had more right to rule than her.
Anne nodded a curt dismissal, and her advisers scrambled to bow and exit the room. Only her closest confidantes lingered, chief among them Prince Charles. "Yes, Uncle?" sighed Anne, removing the heavy crown from her head and setting it down on the table. The dratted thing gave her terrible headaches. Or perhaps that was simply due to all the problems that seemed to be besetting her at once. She rubbed one temple as her uncle began to speak.
"You will need to keep an eye on Isabella. And York. They are not to be trusted, Anne. I'm certain one of them was behind the attack."
"I have already given orders to do so. If you have additional agents you wish to send, by all means do. But if you mean to imply I should have my own sister arrested for nothing more than a vague suspicion, then you are well out of line." Though he was standing and she was seated, her expression contained so much fierce authority that Charles shifted uncomfortably under gaze, feeling suddenly quite small.
"No, of course not, Anne, but-"
"Do you know, Uncle, I believe I would prefer that you called me 'Your Majesty'," Anne interrupted, smiling at him in a way that was by no means friendly. He bowed stiffly, but when he opened his mouth to speak again she forestalled him, saying simply, "You may go." He looked as if he would refuse to obey this command, but a glance behind him showed that others were still present, so he bowed again and swept from the room.
Anne turned to smile, much more warmly, at the Duke of Cambridge. "Yes, my Lord Steward?" she said, looking her cousin over. He was a handsome man, and nearly the same age as her. She was sure he had made many conquests already, though he had never been to Anne's taste. Besides being a year younger than her he was too fair. "I'm so pleased to see you have arrived at last, and in one piece," she said, tweaking him on his late arrival. This criticism seemed to pass over his head, or he politely ignored it. He handed Anne a stack of papers and requested her signature. She obliged him, then signed for him to leave.
At last it was just Anne and Sir Balder left in the room. Anne flicked her eyes over her for a moment before rising gracefully from her seat. "Well, Queen's Champion? Have they given you trouble yet?" She knew that in granting a commoner that exalted role she had rankled more than a few feathers, and probably put Balder in an awkward position. But she didn't care - with all the attempts on her life, on her father's life, all the threats to her throne, she needed someone she could trust in the position more than she needed to pacify the great nobles of the country. She wasn't even entirely sure why she trusted Balder so much. Perhaps it was his long record of service, or the fact that he wasn't of noble birth and part of the ambitious, plotting class that she so feared. But if she were truly honest with herself, it wasn't for any of those reasons that she trusted him. It was the honesty written plainly across his face, the steady, uncalculated look in his eyes when he spoke to her. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself, and much less to any of those many nobles, overlooked for the position, who had complained to her since her announcement. She had brushed these complaints aside, with a careful combination of vague explanation and an arch look that demanded what right they had to question her decision. But she guessed that these rivals would be more forthright with Sir Balder himself.
"Are you regretting it yet?" she asked with a half smile, but a little forlornly. She hoped he didn't regret taking on the role. Not simply for the honour or the glory of the job - but because she desperately needed a friend. She didn't think she could bear it if he were to cry off and leave her to the wolves that were her other advisers.
She glanced up at his face briefly, then busied herself with playing with a seal that was lying on the table beside her. "Do you think it was my sister?" she asked, not without a hint of pain in her voice. "Behind the attack?" Her eyes flew up to his again, trying to read his reaction. She thought she would be able to tell if he lied to her. Not that she expected him to do so... of all people she could trust him to tell her the truth, no matter how painful it might be.