At His Majesty's Pleasure Ch. 14

Alais couldn't help a slight smile too. "Doesn't it bother you?"

Septimus considered. "It depends."

"Depends on what?"

The grin returned. "On who's doing the touching."

Alais put a quick hand to her mouth, to hide a light dose of laughter.

"I should apologize," Septimus added. At her confused look, he clarified, "For my performance as your champion."

Her brows only knit together more. "But you triumphed over them all," she pointed out. "Something that happens very rarely for champions, as everyone has been fond of reminding me."

"Well, I like to think my triumph was never in question," said Septimus, with a quirk of his lips. He hadn't lost that almost apologetic brand of confidence. "But I did promise that no one's yet landed a blow on me. It seems I did not escape entirely unscathed this time."

He nodded to his bared stomach, where linen bandages had been applied over some fresh laceration. "So you see?" he said. "I have completely misled you."

"Oh," said Alais, realizing he was joking again. She did laugh, though her gaze lingered on the wound. "It's not deep?"

"Only a cut," said Septimus. "Titus was much quicker than his size would have you believe." He sounded as if he bore the other contender not the slightest ill will - if anything, he looked almost pleased that someone had managed to inflict the injury. "A good fight, that."

He paused, bowing a little in her direction. "Thank you for choosing me, by the way," he said. "Wasn't sure if you would, to be honest."

Alais waved off this gratitude. "You're the one who won me a favor," she replied. "Besides, you were the least...pompous of the lot, and I've decided that that is an important criteria for a champion." As he smiled, she added, "So aside from the fancy pedestal, what did winning get you?"

"Fame, glory," said Septimus, with a loose roll of his shoulders. "As much good mead as I can drink," he added, as if this were equally important. "And the...company to match. Better fights. What more can a man ask for, really?"

Freedom, thought Alais, but thought better of voicing it aloud. She couldn't even tell if Septimus was being serious.

"That was the practice of my old dominus, though," said the gladiator. "Not sure anymore, after his disappearance."

"He disappeared recently?" asked Alais, curiously.

"Aye, just last night, actually. Got into a bit of trouble. Or so they told me," answered Septimus. "Shame. He was a bit temperamental. What's the expression here - had a nose of wax? But on the whole a decent fellow, as far as masters go."

Disappeared last night? That would coincide with the night they arrived - the night the King had so abruptly left to interrogate a conspirator. It could be a coincidence, but Alais asked anyway. "Who was your dominoes?"

"Dominus," Septimus corrected, though he seemed amused by the mispronunciation. "A Count Jarrett."

Alais stored the name away for further examination. For now, she inquired, "And what happens to a gladiator if his dominus gets in trouble?"

"Resold, usually. After today, at least, there will be a fair bit of bidding," said Septimus. As before, he did not seem particularly put off by his situation. "All the nobles here have a gladiator or two, representing their house. Consider it a point of pride. The more victories, the more honor upon the house."

"Well, if I'm in the market, maybe I'll have to buy some pride of my own," she quipped. She did, though, wonder if the construct applied to her.

"Certain you can afford it?" asked Septimus, grinning again. "After all those gifts, I'm concerned for your husband's coinpurse."

"Honestly, I don't know where he gets it all from," said Alais, with a slip of a smile "Well, I do. But I suppose it's not pleasant to think about."

"Suppose not." Septimus looked past her, at the whispering nobles observing them. "Might want to return to your people," he suggested, with good humor. "I think it's disreputable or something, to be conversing so long with a slave."

"Oh," said Alais, sparing an eye for their audience as well.

She hadn't realized - but then, there was much of Obsivian culture that was still foreign to her. Most of it, really. It was unfortunate, because she actually did enjoy talking to Septimus; it was refreshing to speak to someone without pretense or ulterior motive, and there was still that odd likability about him in particular. And there was more she was curious about - how was he so skilled in battle? Why was he so amiable given his position?

But he was right that now was not the time. "Yes, you're probably right," she agreed. She paused before leaving, however. "Do you need anything?"

Septimus looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"While you're standing there," elaborated Alais, gesturing up at him. "Is there anything you need?"

"Oh," it was his turn to say. He looked genuinely surprised that she had asked. "No, I don't think so."

But she caught how his gaze briefly flickered to one of the far tables; when she turned, she could see leftovers of the feast (stew and a corpulent duck). "You haven't eaten yet?"

"It's of no consequence - " began Septimus, but she was already waving over her handmaidens.

"Please see to it that my champion is fed," said Alais. "If you would."

Fiona and Eleanor were a bit caught off guard, but to their credit, they curtsied readily and moved to obey.

"Thank you," said Septimus, with a fainter smile.

"I've had hunger pains myself today," said Alais, cheerfully. "I would not wish it upon anyone else."

Having secured Septimus a feast of his own, she took her leave of him and renewed her drifting through the ballroom.

The statue of the King was still sitting regally in the corner, probably by design - but at least a shroud had been drawn protectively over it. She wondered where he planned on stationing it. Gods forbid in the bedroom, or anywhere in her suite. Maybe he had a conservatory? One far away?

The tone of the music had since shed its romantic undertones, and was now playing something lightly jaunty. Alais hummed the tune underneath her breath, before stopping in the general vicinity of a familiar Duke.

More solemn by far, Ethan was standing helplessly as Lady Maerian chattered at him, one arm hooked around his left. He didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about the conversation, but neither did he seem to have the will to brush her off with any severity, and was occupied in smiling and nodding politely to her effusions.

That was, until he caught sight of Alais. "Oh," Ethan said, a look of profound hope overcoming his expression, before he quickly concealed it beneath more (respectful) interest. "Ah - Your Majesty," he said, bowing in her direction. "I remember we had something to discuss?"

This was a patent falsehood, but the way Ethan stared at her suggested that it was a mark of desperation.

Lady Maerian curtsied as well, of course, though a glimmer of disappointment dawned at Ethan's words.

There was a prolonged pause, so it seemed, as she looked between one and the other. Finally, she ducked her head in acknowledgment.

"Indeed you did," replied Alais agreeably, stepping forward - more peripheral noblemen seemed to ease away from her movements in the background. It was as though she had the opposite effect of a magnet.

"Please excuse me," Ethan said. He bowed toward Lady Maerian, who was forced to retreat.

"Good evening, Lady Maerian," Alais added, politely.

"I apologize for that," Duke Ethan said, almost immediately, his voice dropping to a lower volume - even though Lady Maerian was already well on her way elsewhere. He said no more of the affair, assuming she had already understood all she needed to know in that moment of entreaty and rescue.

Alais waved her hand at the Duke. "It's fine. I was actually hoping to catch you."

The music was settling into its upbeat tempo, and as the other couples began to take their places in flitting and twirling about the place.

Ethan led her off to the side, where there would be less of a chance of being in the way - and also offered them more privacy from eavesdroppers (though Alais could see a few of her handmaidens and guards floating in the distance, watchfully). "Oh?" he said, with an amiable smile. "Something I can help you with?"

"No, I actually wanted to thank you," said Alais. "I'm still alive, you see, and I'm not sure I could have managed that without your advice."

Ethan blinked at her, and shook his head with some laughter. "I do not think I could accept credit for that," he said, rather automatically. "But I'm glad that my advice did not entirely lead you astray."

He seemed more uncomfortable than usual. It was uncertain if this was given the nature of their conversation or the lingering aftereffects of Lady Maerian's infatuation. He occasionally glanced toward the royal table.

"Then you must take half," she stated amiably. Her mood seemed genuinely uplifted enough that her smile did not have to be strained.

"I don't think your life was ever genuinely at risk," the Duke said, though his tone sounded somewhat hopeful. His gaze returned to her, consideringly.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I am different from when we last spoke, and I have you to thank for that." There was a flicker of something enigmatic to her smile there. It seemed proper, being that the statement itself - and the word different - was rather vague.

"You do seem - happier," Ethan observed. "And it seems the King is happy with you as well. If that ridiculous procession of gifts was anything to go by," he added, with light humor.

"I was withering throughout that whole thing," she muttered conspiratorially, her nose scrunching at the memory. She seemed to stew in pleasant silence for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her demeanor. "I have a question," she began suddenly.

The Duke looked, as always, amenable. "I'm all ears."

Yet another pause settled between breaths as she ruminated, almost attempting to predict, in her mind, the change, however subtle, that was sure to flit over her conversation partner's face. Part of her was hesitant to potentially ruin the light airs that had settled between them - but curiosity won out.

"What happened with Lady Lenora?"

Alais had not forgotten the conversation she'd had with the King about Evelyn's mother - and her ominously mysterious demise. She felt more than she knew that the King had not been entirely straightforward with her, that he was hiding something. It had stirred too much curiosity in her to leave it alone.

The question did produce in Ethan the effect she was looking for - a subtle uncertainty that creased his features. He was silent himself for a moment. "What, ah, do you know of her?" he asked in turn.

"She's Evelyn's mother - obviously." Her words were just soft enough to be easily drowned out by the resonating vibrato of the stringed instruments, and of the jaunty steps their neighbors (a comfortable distance away) took.

"Right," said Ethan, awkwardly. "Anything else?"

"I was told she committed treason, and was punished accordingly." Her gaze centered over his. "What happened?"

"Yes, she was accused of treason, and punished," Ethan said, after another uncomfortable pause. It sounded like he had merely echoed her words, though his paraphrasing was slightly different. Accused of treason, he seemed to have substituted. "There was a lot of - speculation about what happened to her. Some swear that she's been encased in some golden statue or another, and still haunts the castle to this day. Others say she was hanged, and others that she was drowned while wearing all her gold."

"Yes," Alais sighed, "I heard that too. Do you mean to say there's no official record of her... fate?" Those accused of treason usually had very public executions, word of their punishments spread far and wide. This was all maddeningly obscure.

"It's not uncommon here, I'm afraid," said the Duke. "Occasionally, anyway. The King's enemies simply...disappear. In a way, it's worse - imaginations run amok as to what happened to them."

"So it's also possible she could still be alive," pointed out Alais.

"I doubt it," Ethan said, a darker look crossing his expression. He looked tired. "The King was upset by her. She committed an offense that he considered of the worst kind."

"The... worst kind?" Her brow furrowed, but she did have the grace to keep the first risings of frustration at bay.

Ethan shrugged slightly. "Betraying his trust," he explained. "He treated her quite well, for a while." He seemed poised to say more, but bit his lip, the words swallowed back where they came.

Observing this, Alais chose to be silent than to push at him more; he seemed to be working himself toward speaking further.

"What bothered me," Ethan did say, rather abruptly, "was that there was hardly any evidence for what she allegedly did. Intentionally having the child, I mean. Her temperament pointed in the opposite direction."

"What do you mean?"

"Later rumors have exaggerated her into an archetype of a power-hungry and conniving seductress. But in the times I spoke to her, she always appeared quite demure, even naive," explained Ethan.

That was odd, and directly contradicted the King's description of her. But it was possible that Ethan was too trusting, and led astray by Lady Lenora's pretensions. Or the King was lying to her.

"Intent is often difficult to prove or disprove," Alais offered quietly. Her eyes were cast downward, for another moment. "My apologies." It appeared he did not know as much as she would've hoped for after all. "I'd wanted to know what to expect ... if or when I fall out of favor. Or commit treason unintentionally."

Ethan shook his head. "Your situations are not the same."

"Extrapolations can be made," said Alais - but the smile had returned, and if she was at all troubled by the story, she did not display it here.

"I wouldn't dwell too much on it," said the Duke. "Though that is understandably easier said than done."

"Thank you for admitting it," said Alais.

"I'm sorry I could not offer better advice," he replied. He seemed uncharacteristically restless. "Pardon me, but I should not linger too long. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

"Oh," she said, a little surprised he was so eager to depart. "No - thank you for your time."

"Congratulations, again," offered Ethan. "Not just on the wedding, but on managing to adjust as you have. Not all could have done so as gracefully."

Her lips quirked into another smile, this one somehow appearing more sincere than all the rest. "The secret to my success was something as simple as - tickling."

Ethan's expression took on that of confusion, but he appeared in too much of a rush. He nodded goodbye. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing before he moved swiftly away, with such slyness of manner as to be almost comical.

She wondered why he was in such a hurry - was it really such a terror to entertain more dances? Or was there something else?

In his absence, she continued to watch the bustle of the surrounding lords and ladies, previously her audience members. Wherever her eyes neared, theirs seemed to flit away, as though it were an ill omen to be caught directly by the sweep of her gaze. Was it always going to be like this, or was it only because she was new? Producing a quiet sigh, she turned to face a random direction for no reason in particular, and ambled on.

Not everyone had lost their nerve, however. It was a trio of young noblewomen who were the first to break the pattern, for upon catching her eye, the tallest of the three - blonde, fair, and svelte - approached immediately (followed by her two friends). All of them curtsied.

"We were just discussing how absolutely beautiful you looked, Your Majesty!" said the leader, as she bobbed back up. "You are truly the envy of every woman in this hall."

Alais halted as if a wall had materialized before her, and stood there unsure whether it was proper form for a queen to return such a curtsy. After a pause, she cleared her throat and dipped downward. "Thank you, Lady..." Lady with the hair who was blonde? Lady Blonda?

The woman giggled. "Oh, pardon me. Lady Reina of Carningsby," she introduced, sweetly. As if it were an afterthought, she added, with a wave of her hand, "And these are my dear friends, Lady Lorelle and Lady Elyana."

"Your Majesty," the two echoed.

Her eyes flickered toward each one in greeting, noting how the accompanying ladies appeared, perhaps strategically, blander than their ringleader.

"And such a husband..." said Lady Reina, with a dramatic sigh.

"So charming," chimed in Lady Lorelle.

"So handsome," added Lady Elyana.

Both gazed wistfully toward the figure of the King, in the distance.

Alais's brows furrowed, just a touch. She had been prepared to be polite, but this appeared to be more than an exchange of pleasantries.

"Oh, but we are being most insensitive! This must all be such a terrible trial for you," said Lady Reina, with a look of commiseration. "To be kidnapped and wed - all for the advantage of a vale and some ships." She shook her head, her smile just a touch vicious. "Terrible."

"Terrible," agreed Lady Lorelle, helpfully.

"Oh." Alais smiled thinly as she was roped into this passive-aggressive variation of smalltalk. She already knew these must be just a few of the scorned lovers the King had left behind. "Thank you for the sentiment. I hope the vale and ships were worth it for His Majesty, since he has only room for one wife."

In this, she all but mirrored Lady Reina's saccharine tone, albeit in a more subdued form.

"Oh yes - well, formally, I suppose," said Lady Reina, setting off giggles from her followers. "Oh, pardon me," she said again, with another dose of sweetness. "But I think we are all aware how positively...insatiable His Majesty is."

More giggles, and this time a blush from Lady Elyana.

Ha ha ha, thought Alais, humorlessly. It should have meant nothing to her. It should.

"Although..." said Reina, pausing as if only just then recollecting something. She turned to glance at her friends. "I suppose we should feel flattered, shouldn't we? At least his pursuit isn't always driven by pecuniary gains."

Giggle giggle.

Alais looked perfectly unperturbed, while a part of her itched in annoyance. Jealousy would be too absurd for one in her position, so this she ruled out immediately. She was feeling anything but that.

"At least he had something to gain, didn't he?" Nothing in her placid expression betrayed the odd niggling of irritation, her hands sliding over one another.

Lorelle and Elyana glanced uncertainly back at their leader, who appeared less ruffled.

"Your Majesty should know that material advantages are not the only things one might offer," said Reina, as if helpfully informing her of something she might be ignorant of. The cloying sweetness remained steadfast. "There are charms, beauty, wit... well, perhaps some of it is less familiar to you."

More ill-natured giggling from Elyana.

"Ah," returned Alais, as if happy to humor her new acquaintance. "It is a true shame then that the noblewomen of his country lacked the adequate beauty, wit, charms... or maybe even love enough to entice him."

Lorelle's mouth turned into a perfect "O" of surprise, and even Reina looked momentarily irked by the sentiment.

"Or else I would be sitting at home, watering my plants," added Alais, cheerfully.

Reina's smile looked less pretty now, but she made an attempt. "Oh, plants? How quaint. We usually have gardeners for that, here."

Alais hummed in contemplation. "I enjoy it. I've found that plants are much easier to maintain than, say, people."