There was something heart fluttering about his smile though Alarice refused to acknowledge it as more than a passing moment of teenage-hormone induced bashfulness. Francois Moreau’s boyish, grinning and wholly inappropriate request almost made her forget her place…almost. It was true that her schedule was officially free of engagements, King Orion having decided that she should rest and recover after “the incident.” Thus far resting and recovering consisted of one early morning Kendo session, a quiet breakfast with the King, meeting, sparring and shocking Eirian Lindval, scolding Robert and playing hostess to Mr. Moreau and his guest. A movie sounded…nice. It brought a smile to her face and she agreed.
“Let me just inform my—” Herbert must have thought it was a good idea too because his normal attitude about her spending alone time (without him – rendering it less alone than she’d prefer) was replaced by one of gentle encouragement. Or at least as much gentle encouragement as Herbert could fit into a nod and the order of popcorn that joined them soon after she’d taken a seat. He’d only had a few of the tea sandwiches and was eyeing the popcorn with a look of well-disguised want. With a smile she offered it to him, popcorn would be difficult enough to consume with her gloves, and he took it with a friendly grin before returning to his post at the door.
Adopting the passive, gentle posture that was all but required to sit through endless court and council meets – she tried to watch the movie. Of course, mother daughter talks and a dying mother quickly made her eyes wander down to the popcorn sitting on her lap. After some thought she realized it would be all but impossible to eat with gloves – the flawless fabric would have absorbed the butter most uncomfortably. So, with mixed feelings of embarrassment (that Francois Moreau had seen her bare hands twice now – a sight which only Herbert and Robert had been allowed for years) and annoyance (that she should feel embarrassed about baring her HAND at all) she gently pried the short white glove from her left hand.
“Pardon me, Princess,” His surprisingly smooth voice murmured. “but would you mind…holding quite still for just a moment?” The “lost” piece of popcorn taken care of she felt her eyes unable to move away from his. There were floating specks of bright yellow, darker golds and hazels all forming a stunning contrast against the sharpness of his pupils. People had long told her that her eyes were beautiful, though the truth of it was that her eyes were transparent – like all Deamone Royals the depth, color and clarity of her eyes was determined by her mood, her strength and her energy at any given moment. But Francois Moreau’s eyes, sharp and piercing were to her altogether unsettling and stunning. So stunning, perhaps, that she couldn’t help what came out of her mouth next.
“Mr. Moreau, Why did you jump in front of that assassin?” It wasn’t something she’d intended to ask. Actually, it was something that she actively avoided thinking about. Her avoidance made her feel even worse when Francois Moreau’s answer relieved of a guilt she didn’t know she’d been holding in. His “Frank” and admirable response hit somewhere close to home, honesty, straightforwardness and an equal respect for all lives weren’t common in the Lician court. Suddenly, she had a whole new respect for the man beside her. And respect meant truth.
“There’s nothing to forgive Mr. Moreau. I would always prefer to hear a frank truth than a beautiful lie.”
Absently, the hand that had come to rest on his beside moved up to brush the previously popcorn adorned strand of hair back in place. On the journey she could have sworn she felt her hand skim his – though she pretended not to notice. The movie’s gentle buzz, Herbert and possibly Robert in the hall and the eyes of his assistant around them forgotten, she whispered softly…
“Herbert….Mr. Dubhan,” Her eyes flickered towards the shadow cast by the dark haired man “has been injured on my account more times than I care to remember. Though, I don’t think I will ever be able to forget any of them.” Her voice stayed steady and soft as she spoke, carefully measured so as to not let anyone but Francois hear her. “The father of my Lician head of guard Mr. Ward was injured at the Academy where young soldiers are trained to value my life and that of the King’s above their own. He too bears wounds I’d rather forget. Due to yesterday’s…incident…today his former cadet, a woman but a year older than myself declared that she would rather forfeit her own life than endanger mine. And her reward was to be granted a job that almost guarantees that one day it may come down to that possibility. Her former mentor, Mr. Ward then proceeded to lecture me on why it is “the duty of all citizens of Licia and Deamone and those who pledge fealty” like yourself, to sacrifice yourselves for me.”
There was a measured pause as she sighed heavily. These were words that she’d longed to speak…but to who? Certainly not Herbert who was just as willing to sacrifice his life for her as Robert, as Eirian and as they all believed others should be. Not the King, or courtiers, or the military men and women who had themselves gone through the Academy training. Of course, soon enough she realized just whom she WAS speaking the words too and she felt her face grow hot and red.
“I’m sorry.” She said, bringing a bright and placid smile to her lips. Alarice was thankful of all the hours spent training that she could call upon the calm face of politician when her emotions were so muddled in her head. “Now I have spoken out of turn.”
“You have nothing to apologize for…but I like to believe that the men and women who pledge their lives to a sovereign do so because they have hope in the ideals that the sovereign represents. With so many individuals pledging their fealty to you, Princess, you must inspire a remarkable amount of hope… At least, that’s what I see.”
Gently, without thinking she reached out and touched Francois’ arm. “You’re very eloquent Mr. Moreau. I shall have to do my best to live up to the ideals I represent, to deserve such loyalty from my people and kindness from yourself.” Her smile was easier now, more genuine. After another moment she replaced her hand on her lap with an additional “Thank you.”
Not wanting to keep the moment as serious as it had become she held up her popcorn in the general direction of Edouard. “Would you like some popcorn, Edouard?” She asked – though his staring and silent response (or lack of) let her guess he didn’t. “Perhaps later.” She mused with a soft smile, returning her attention to the film.
As the scene on the screen became more adult, it took all her willpower not to avert her eyes. Used as she might have been to Herbert and Robert’s naked torsos, there was currently one very near to her that she was not-so used to viewing. “Mr. Moreau. If you don’t mind I’d like to know more about you. I’m afraid that at the moment all I really know is that you’re a brave, eloquent young man who has pledged fealty to me and hails from…if I’m not mistaken….the…southwestern third realm bordering Deamone.”
“That is correct. You’re very observant…” His reply made her smile sadly, not always. The Princess found herself thinking as he went on with a chuckle.
“But I’m afraid that there isn’t much of interest to talk about where I’m concerned. I live with my mother and spend most of my days caring for her. She suffered from a severe spinal cord injury when I was young and has a hard time getting by on her own.”
“Is she well…with you here?” Alarice asked softly, feeling a pang of guilt at having the woman’s son here recovering from injury when he may very well have been safe and caring for her. “She prefers the solitude, so we downsized greatly after my father passed. But she agreed to take on a maid before I left.”
“And are you a fan of solitude, Mr. Moreau? Mr….Edouard seems a loyal companion.”
No one but Herbert ever seemed to smile as easily with her as Francois seemed to have taken to doing. It was a welcome change…most of the ways he was different were.
“I think everyone is a fan of solitude at times and I am certainly no exception. But I do enjoy having a companion or two.”
“And how did you two come into each other’s acquaintance?” It was a bit odd to speak about someone in the room with them – who could or would not speak for themselves. Granted, it was something she’d been subjected to often and she was more sensitive to it than most.
“I found him wounded in the jungle when we were both rather young. I couldn’t get much out of him, but I was able to make out enough that he had gotten attacked by some sort of animal, and it didn’t seem as if he had any family. I took him home and cared for his wounds, and he’s stayed with me ever since. I think he seems to believe he owes me his life.”
“You’ve quite a heroic streak Mr. Moreau. I’m thankful then, to know you and have your loyalty.”
Feeling like you owed someone your life was something she could understand…how many people was she indebted to now? Alarice wanted to be less inquisitive, really – but there was one more question floating around in her head that she wanted the answer to.
“And what are your plans for your stay in Licia?”
“I’ll be attending the Licia School at the start of the term.”
This took her by surprise. “Is that so? I do not believe you attended last year, when I started my studies there. Congratulations. It is a great honor to be invited to study there.” She could hear the tone of amusement in her own voice – the kind of thing that only those poor souls who had been subjected to Licia School’s unorthodox method could know. “It is…an interesting learning environment.”
The movie continued on for some time, the dancer’s lithe body reminding her a little too much of another elegant dancer. Every once in a while Francois Moreau would ask her questions, which she answered as honestly as public backstories and the thickly veiled language of the Lician Court allowed. At some point, she could hear Robert’s voice in the hall. Just before he stepped in and announced his belief that she should not remain “unsupervised” Alarice slipped her hand back into the glove. His sharp eyes stayed on the two and the conversation trickled off to little more than polite responses on her end. She’d given Robert a hard enough time earlier. Towards the tail end of the film, another visitor joined them…The King.
“My King.” She murmured demurely as she dipped into a low curtsy and rose in time to place a hand on Francois Moreau’s shoulder – even the King wouldn’t force an injured man to stand just to bow.
“Princess.” He replied, lowering his head and bowing in return. “I had hoped to seek your advice on the military review tomorrow, but I was told you were entertaining company.”
“Yes my King. May I present Francois Moreau and his companion – Edouard?”
Orion spared a polite smile for the bedridden third realmer, no such thing for his savage companion.
“Mr. Moreau. I hope the Princess has extended an invitation to stay until you have fully recovered. The Crown is in your debt.”
“Yes, your Majesty. She has.”
“Excellent.” The older man gazed about the scene they’d created, popcorn and a movie with a chair at the man’s bedside. She knew what he’d say before he said it – of course he would, it was the newest thing available to him to rattle her.
“Mr. Ward I think we can trust the Princess to behave appropriately with her guest. Join Mr. Dubhan at his post outside.”
“Majesty.” Replied Robert, who was still on his knee and would be until the King left.
“After all, now that she has taken on a handmaiden and agreed to be betrothed I doubt she would behave salaciously. Not…” He continued, eyes sparkling and smile precisely uplifted. “That our fair heir is capable of such a thing. Is that not right right Princess?”
If their smiles had been sword they would have been equally matched. “I’ve no intention to endanger the marriage agreement, My King. Shall I see you at supper?”
“Indeed Highness. I shall look forward to your thoughts on the matter of the review.” If he had not been gliding out of the room, Orion would have not appeared to have been leaving as he bid the room’s inhabitants a good day and left – his thunderous guard behind him. Daintily as she could when her blood had gone cold, for she had not yet bothered to tell Herbert or Robert the news (it had not seemed appropriate to do so given the circumstances of the past day), she settled herself down into the chair.
Unfortunately, Robert seemed to have forgotten his orders and stood there staring at her with the smallest of gapes. Herbert appeared at the door and gave her a pointed stare, which she replied to with an airy sigh. “Can I help you, Mr. Dubhan?”
“What the hell was that?” He said, dropping the formalities and appearing to forget that it was not just the three of them. “What was what Herbert?” Alarice replied, ignoring her gloves and popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth as she pretended to watch the movie. “Don’t play Princess with me you know damn well what I’m talking about.”
“Language Herbert.” She hummed, though whatever response he had cooked up was promptly interrupted. “That’s enough Herbert. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” Robert said, remembering himself and grabbing Herbert by the arm. “Princess, supper will be in an hour’s time and in the greater dining room. You will need time to dress more appropriately.”
“Movie’s almost over Mr. Ward, thank you.” She all but laughed as the two men retreated to what had almost certainly become a hall of confusion. “I’m sorry about that.” Alarice murmured to Francois. Just how many people was Herbert going to unsettle today?