At His Majesty's Pleasure Ch. 14

"Huh," said Reina. "A pity then, that you had not attracted the attention of some King Mushroom or another. A better match, that!" She put her hand to her lips, and was soon joined by titters from her friends.

In the nature of good sportsmanship, she offered an amiable smile of her own while pointing out, "Mushrooms aren't plants."

Her shoulders lifted gently with a shrug, as if she couldn't blame these women for not having opened a book. She took advantage of their temporarily confused silence to add, "Now if you'll excuse me..."

Another fluid, queenly curtsy, and she was gliding elsewhere.

It should not have surprised her that His Majesty had had admirers. Those who perhaps felt threatened by her presence. Alais resolved that if she encountered more of them, who did not stink as much of perfume, she might consider extending an olive branch or two.

But not those three, she decided to herself.

And still, that flustered feeling persisted in her stomach, taunting her for its meaning. She was in the midst of battling it down when another intruded on her solitude.

"Ah, Your Majesty," said a baritone voice. It seemed she would not escape being accosted, but this time, at least, it would not be at the risk of encountering more scorned ex-lovers. The hulking figure of King Jehan bowed in her direction. "I must confess I am surprised that that King of yours has allowed you out of his sight. He is a domineering one, no?"

He chuckled, as if to show he were making a pleasant joke, though both of them knew the comment was not strictly humorous.

Her green eyes lifted in his direction, beginning to stare in spite of herself. "...Your Majesty." Again, she lowered into a curtsy, although this one felt considerably more conscientious. Jehan's presence had been a surprise (and that was a ridiculous understatement). "It has been a while."

And yet here he seemed more... mild-mannered, than the last time. Last time, when he visited Vvaria so long ago, Prince Jehan had been alternately invasive and lewd.

"It has been, hasn't it? I wonder - do you recollect our last meeting very well?" Jehan inquired.

The new King of Scalyria was a towering man. Between him and her husband, she wondered who stood taller. "You made a lasting impression," remarked Alais with a cant of her head, not without an attempt at good humor. Something about his demeanor, or perhaps the reassurance of being surrounded by secure company, abated her instinctual ill ease somewhat.

"You must accept my apologies for my behavior on that occasion," said Jehan. "My brother, you see - may he rest in peace - wished for me to wed you and strengthen the alliance between our kingdoms. I wished otherwise. Not due to anything lacking on your part, I assure you... quite the opposite. But I did not desire a foreign marriage. I therefore found it incumbent on myself to behave - "

"Like a cantankerous lecher?" She smiled, this one genuinely amused as realization clicked into place.

Jehan boomed his laughter. "You have me exact," he said. "It was horrible of me to use such means, but I consoled myself that since you had so many other suitors, the ill behavior of one would soon be forgotten. Was it not so? And then if you were the one to reject me, my brother could not cast blame."

There was something about the flippant conversation which set her at ease, or perhaps there was solidarity to be shared in being two of very few noteworthy not-Obsivians (by blood) in all of the capital. Or her pristine awareness of the unspoken disputes between Jehan and ... her husband, and how surprisingly comfortable it was for her to engage with the Scalyrian in contrast.

"You had me fooled. I was so - impressionable, and now I can't be blamed for being cautious." Her eyes widened as a hand rose to her chin. "How can I be sure that this is the real King Jehan? Not one playing another game?"

King Jehan laughed again. "Even if I was, it would be all for naught. Your husband has had some half a dozen of his chevaliers tailing me this whole evening. I would be offended were I not equally flattered - I wonder what he thinks me capable of."

He cleared his throat, his gaze briefly passing over her. "Although, I was wondering if Your Majesty would favor me with a dance. I think I owe that much, after troubling you so much during our previous meeting."

It did not bother her that King Jehan had six wives awaiting him in Scalyria, and neither did the rumors of his fratricide perturb her terribly. Similar rumors trailed in the wake of her husband (thus leading to her current... position). She did not suspect the foreign monarch would try anything what with those dozen or so chevaliers at his heel.

Her hesitation was for a different reason.

"Alas," Alais bemoaned with a twinge of melodrama. An apologetic smile curved upon her lips. "My King has requested that I not dance with anyone else. I think you know better than I how particular he can be."

"Ah, but does he not also expect you to behave diplomatically around foreign dignitaries?" said King Jehan, with a chuckle. "If I were to insist on a dance, you would only be doing your queenly duty in obliging."

Her mouth opened to return with yet another strategically formulated response. Something about it not being good form to offend her own groom on her wedding night. Something about how her husband had a legendary temper. Something something. But then, in the corner of her eye just past Jehan, she caught a glimpse of her husband in the midst of dancing himself. His partner sported golden hair and an adoring smile: Lady Reina.

The painful stirring in the pit of her stomach wasn't jealousy; she'd have denied it to the end of her days. She simply felt foolish for believing - for a fraction of a moment, with a fraction of her mind - that he might have cared one jot for her, after all his strange kindness today. But no, he was already cavorting with one of his many admirers. Why would she ever think him above it?

"Your Majesty?" prompted Jehan.

Suddenly, a bout of dancing with King Jehan seemed more appealing than before. She quickly righted her gaze back toward the foreign King, a fresh smile brightening her features.

Upon a closer and more objective examination, neither was Jehan himself (objectively) unappealing. He was burly and muscular, but graced with a noble countenance, and in manners, he was currently not wanting.

"A diplomatic dance?" she questioned lightly. "As luck would have it, that's the only sort of dance I shouldn't refuse."

Jehan smiled down at her. "I'm glad we are of the same mind." He extended a large hand to her. "Shall we?"

Alais stifled another fleeting urge to glance back in her husband's direction. Instead, she set her hand in his palm and allowed herself to be guided, the sweep of her skirts trailing behind her.

For all his size, Jehan was a surprisingly graceful dancer, though she maintained a respectful, diplomatic space between them. Jehan seemed to sense her intentions, and behaved graciously himself - even if once or twice he moved her a little closer than was probably necessary. Nevertheless, it would have been poor form for a man of six wives to covet yet another.

"I must admit that I prefer the dances of my own kingdom," remarked Jehan, as he twirled her about. "Your northern versions are so...detached and ceremonial."

Alais wasn't nearly uninhibited enough for dances which weren't strictly detached or ceremonial. "How long will you be staying? Perhaps there'll be time for demonstrations, later."

Jehan chortled. "I doubt it," he replied. With a twitch of his lips, he explained, "It might offend Obsivian sensibilities, and that's the last thing I want. Scalyrian dances can be quite...sensual."

Despite his preference, he seemed studied enough in so called northern dancing that he stepped briskly to the tempo of the music. With his stature, they cut an easy swathe into the crowds, and he maneuvered her with the proper dignity. The dance passed along quite pleasantly as the musicians swelled toward denouement.

That was, until she noticed her husband watching them.

Her rhythmic steps slowed to a halt, her throat clearing so as to alert Jehan's attention. Alais turned to face her husband fully, hands lacing gently with one another.

His demeanor had changed subtly. He was smiling, but there was something dangerous in the expression; his eyes were noticeably colder as his gaze swept over them. (Those around him seemed to sense it too, for his subject gave him a wide berth.) A sliver of nervousness crept through her - his mood had been pleasant for some time now, but she had not forgotten what he was capable of in his worst moments. But part of her - the irrational part - also felt triumphant, that she should have affected him.

As the music quieted, he brought his hands together in slow applause. "What an excellent performance," he remarked, with the same unnerving smile. "And here I was worried that my queen would be unable to entertain herself."

She found his reactions deeply unfair, that he should seem so upset with her for merely having followed his example. Alais dipped her head to him in acknowledgment. "King Jehan was helping me with diplomacy."

"Her Majesty has unimpeachable diplomatic skill," provided Jehan.

There was a long look exchanged between the two monarchs. Jehan was all pleasantry, though a challenge glinted in his dark eyes; Alexander seemed equally calm on the surface, but his smile had become fixed and unnatural.

After these few terse heartbeats, Alais resolved to finally break the silence with a long-suffering sigh. "I know you asked me not to," she began reasonably, "but I did not want to bother you with my boredom - and His Majesty had posed himself as something of an exception to the rule."

Her husband chuckled. "Oh, is he making rules in my kingdom?" he said, his eyes not leaving the other man. "I wasn't aware."

Casually, he beckoned her to him with a gesture of his fingers. She hesitated, feeling a threat there, but at length reached forward to grasp his beckoning fingers. She let her eyes remain all wide and innocent of wrongdoing; some part of her knew this would rile him all the more, but she could not help it.

He pulled her toward him at once, the tug strong enough to sweep her up against him; his arm curved about her waist, keeping her pinned there. She was not fool enough to resist, though the strength of the gesture - as her back met his chest - almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I hope I haven't caused any offense, brother," Jehan offered, in the same manner.

She thought she understood why they disliked one another - they were too similar, in ways, to operate in the same breathing space for much long, with their affable smiles concealing venom.

"Not in the least. I only regret that I have not five other wives, as you do, to be more efficient with my diplomatic undertakings," said Alexander, almost mildly. "How productive you must be."

Jehan's expression darkened too.

"Unfortunately, he has only me," Alais offered helpfully, in spite of the heavy arm wound about her waist.

"So fortunate that he has chosen well, then," said King Jehan, summoning a smile to offer her. "I confess myself surprised when I heard of the...unconventional methods for courting your bride. But now that I am before such beauty myself, I am no longer mystified that she should inspire such passion." He continued, in the same would-be pleasant tones, "It is a good thing you are keeping such close eyes on me, brother. Or I might be so moved to run off with her myself!"

Here, he laughed - a mirth no one around him dared join him in, except a couple of his own servants.

Alais could feel the King's hold tightening over her with every word, and it took no astute observe to know he was quietly seething. It was because of this that she intentionally smiled back at Jehan, sweetly. "It would be even more impressive the second time around."

The King already had her pressed flush against him, but at her words, his grip constricted painfully - she was all but buried in his hard chest, and speech now more difficult with the compression of her own.

"I would love to see you try," he said, baring his teeth in a smile.

Jehan met his gaze. "Perhaps I will," he said, still in a manner that suggested he was only jesting - but even the sentiment was provocative enough.

"Perhaps," echoed Alexander. She noticed the fingers of his other hand flexing, as if itching for a sword. His smile remained, however, unsettlingly constant, even as a note of menace crept into his voice. "Or perhaps you should mind your step. It seems a hazard lately, to be a Scalyrian king. I would not want you to see your brother so soon."

Whatever veil there was left shrouding their threats, it seemed to be fast unraveling. Jehan's pleasant demeanor finally withered away, leaving only a palpable hostility. Even Alais fell silent now.

The crowd around them had by this time quieted completely, several dozen eyes fastened upon each of them. A few whispers sounded here and there, but most were content to watch in mesmerized silence.

Another strained pause stretched out between them.

It did seem like Jehan was on precipice of making some final barb of his own, especially given how his jaw had clenched. But after a considerable delay, he seemed to think better. "I appreciate your concern for my well-being, as always," he said, icily. "Speaking of which - as loathe as I am to miss any part of the festivities, I believe my friends and I grow weary. All that traveling does take a toll."

As Jehan turned, however, he found his way barred by several fully armed chevaliers - well enough to outnumber his party. He raised his brows at the other king.

Alexander seemed to enjoy taking his time, waiting just long enough for his intent to be called into question. "Oh, of course. Allow my knights to escort you."

"And deprive you of your guard?" said Jehan. "There is no need, brother."

"I insist." Alexander allowed the slightest note of amusement to surface. "Brother. As I said, times are dangerous."

Another uncomfortable silence.

"May I rest too, brothers?" Alais piped up, taking refuge in blithe audacity.

Both of them glanced at her, surprised; in another situation, she might have laughed.

"Perhaps we can all retire," agreed Jehan, with prickly humor. "Must have been a long day for both of you, eh?"

"Soon," said Alexander.

"Very well," said Jehan. "I shall be off, then. Blessings upon your marriage."

With a clap of his hands, he summoned his surrounding retinue, who obediently followed him as he made his way out of the ballroom.

Slowly, their audience began turning back to their own affairs, leaving them in relative privacy once more.

"You know," said the King, "I had half a mind to slit his throat right then and there." The tone of his voice gave no doubt as to his capacity, nor that he would have relished it. "How satisfying it would have been to see his blood painting my floor. Don't you think so?"

There was enough promise of violence in his voice to give her pause, but only for a moment. "But you wouldn't," she pointed out. At his look, she added, "Not now, at least. The smaller kingdoms in the south are already unstable after his brother's recent death - another Scalyrian king dead might launch them into total chaos. Which you can't afford, while you have other campaigns to pursue...say, through a certain vale."

"So clever. Always so clever," said the King. He studied her, his eyes having lost none of its coldness. "You must be very pleased with yourself, in all this."

"Should I not be?" murmured Alais.

"Oh, I don't know. It depends on your objective," he said, as if musing aloud. "I have treated you remarkably well, Alais. Very well." He lowered his lips to her cheek, leaving an unsettling soft kiss there. "But perhaps my kindness towards you has become boring, and you wished to provoke my anger. A dangerous pastime, but who am I to judge?"

The arm around her tightened, sharp enough to be painful. She gasped, and in response, saw a cruel gleam of amusement alight in his eyes.

"You succeeded, by the way," he said.

A shiver tingled up her spine, but she did well to repress it. Perhaps it would have been safer now to cower or beg forgiveness, to try to crawl back into his good graces - and in doing so, avoid the brunt of whatever retribution was coming. But she could not bring herself to. As before, when she had tempted his anger, it felt like she was already in too deep that there was only to give in further to that irrational instinct of defiance. If nothing else, did not her last vestiges of pride demand it?

And somewhere deep insider her, she was still peeved by his dalliances too. It was funny in a way, wasn't it? If he hadn't been so kind lately, she might never have been vulnerable to irritation in the first place. Certainly when he'd slept with that maid, she had hated him so much that she could genuinely say she hadn't cared one bit.

Well, it seemed he'd done away with his pleasant mood. Maybe she'd solved her own problem, in a perverse way.

"You were enjoying yourself a little while ago - and Jehan has six wives," she retorted. "There was no threat in one dance. Nothing inappropriate from me or him."

"You're a good actress, Alais. I think it is one of your flaws as well as your strengths. But you're not that good." He lowered his lips to her ear. "You knew what you were doing. You knew you were disobeying me. Any pretensions of innocence will hardly be convincing."

"I admitted it, didn't I?" Here she began to squirm in protest, out of a budding frustration - not that she made any progress at all from his iron grip. "I told you both. I remember. Am I not permitted to one dance when you can have many?"

"I disliked seeing his hands on you," he said, his voice low and seething. "And how he looked at you. I..." He paused, as if seeming to catch what she had actually said, his eyes flickering to hers. "I thought you did not care who I entertained myself with." He studied her with a sharper scrunity, temporary distracted. "Or do you?"

She stiffened, feeling the warmth rise in her cheeks from what was certainly the proximity of his body heat. And nothing else. "It just seems a little unbalanced, that I shouldn't care while you care so much."

"The nature of our relationship is unbalanced," replied the King. He tilted his head, something of a smirk beginning to touch his lips. "Is that what this is all about? Is my Queen feeling a little envious?"

"That's not what I meant," Alais insisted, feeling unfairly flustered. "Just that you have no regard for your own rules..."

"Fascinating," remarked the King, ignoring her denials. He laughed to himself. "Very fascinating."

She tried to extricate herself from his hold with renewed energy, but he kept her captive.

"But don't think this excuses your behavior, Alais," he said. The fingers over her waist gave a little squeeze. "You will still be punished for your disobedience."

She stopped, feeling nervous. "Punished?"

"Oh yes," he said, both parts merciless and mischievous. "Vigorously, I think."

"I hardly think that's necessary - "

She was cut off by a sudden chorus of screams and shocked gasps not but a short distance from them, and many making protective warding signs. Even as the King pulled her back, it was not difficult to see the object of their reactions: the cloth draped over his statue had been removed, revealing that the head of his likeness had been destroyed. There was now only a headless King before them, a sight that was inherently treasonous.