Elephant Protocol? Alarice found herself wondering in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. If there was such a thing in the (literal) rule book it would undoubtedly be a small, rarely invoked passage that even Robert Ward would not be able to remember. Then again, there were rules for the colors of gloves and the length of hair so why not the riding of elephants? Whatever the case, the longer she let her three guards think about the matter the lower her chances of actually RIDING the stunning creature.
So, with a subtle and lowly-toned affirmation she found herself clasping gently onto Francois Moreau’s hand and then several feet taller. The disorientating sudden-tallness and the fact that her riding skirt’s split only partially accommodated the volume of the fabric and caused it to rise up comically brought an almost-painful grin to her face. It only faded a little when Francois’ “proximity” was brought to her attention. Should it have bothered her? Perhaps a little – even she was not immune to the fluttering heartbeats and flushes of red in the cheeks of a girl settled neatly between a handsome young man’s hips. Then again, Francois Moreau had been nothing short of courteous and polite and he was aware of her “engagement situation.”
“Not at all.” She smiled back politely, trying to suspend her laughter at the subsequent sliding that her unfortunately mandated wardrobe brought on. “One should always try to avoid sliding off until one’s fourth or fifth elephant ride, at least according to protocol.” Alarice added, cheeks reddened at the effort it took not to join Herbert in laughing at Robert (who had a perplexed look on his face that was followed by an out-loud wondering of what page in the Protocol book that rule was on.) Though she might have ordinarily been more concerned about the potential to fall from such a height, Francois reassuring grip kept her feeling safe…and paradoxically a little unnerved. While he seemed completely at-ease on his ride she couldn’t hide the giddy feelings she was experiencing.
“She’s so graceful.” She all but cooed, rubbing her hand gently along the elephant’s back in an admiring gesture. When the creature seemed to acknowledge and be pleased by this the young royal went on. “And so beautiful! Such a …” Occasionally, her compliments to the “lovely girl” were interrupted by her body shifting from side to side. But she took it all in good humor, laughing appreciatively along with Francois when it happened. “I am undoubtedly the most experienced elephant rider among the Royal family, thanks to you Mr. Moreau. Perhaps the King will agree to take lessons so as to not fall behind.” The thought of Orion, legs split as he sat astride Reena with a goofy grin on his face only made her laugh more. In a nervous gesture she resorted to hiding her laughing face behind her hands, forcing Francois Moreau’s hands tighter and higher up on her waist.
Thankfully (perhaps), this was the time Reena chose to cease her walk and as a result the time that Francois dismounted the exotic creature. Her smile had returned to its pleasant and neutral home when he offered his hand up to her; allowing her to maintain a sense of composure as she took it and jumped off as gracefully as she could. Alarice landed face to face to, in fact almost touching, Francois Moreau. Glancing bashfully down, she offered him a smile and a squeeze of his hand just before she felt Herbert’s own on her shoulder.
“The King is going to be here shortly.” He said, his tone even despite the obvious warning he was providing her. Threat to the “short-list” or not, it would not be to Francois Moreau’s benefit for the King to see how fond she’d grown of him in so short a time. King Orion had claimed that he was neutral about her decision, that the committee had ensured all candidates would be equally beneficial to both Licia and Deamone. But she didn’t buy it and she suspected neither would Herbert. Briefly, she allowed herself to consider Francois Moreau. Though she knew nothing about his wealth or prospects – he was obviously of Deamone heritage but removed enough to live in the Third Realm. “Connected enough to one of the realms to be agreeable to them. But, not so much that the other could not grow a bond with them as well. An ideal position, really.” The King had said, about a similar young man whose name escaped her completely. The thought, though it happened in a matter of milliseconds, made her blush and grasp compulsively onto Herbert’s arm. He was her go-to, always, when she needed to feel grounded.
“Perhaps we should leave Miss. Reena to rest.” She remarked, after a pause and a short breath. So it was that the four of them were standing outside the pen a minute later when the stomp-stomp-stomp of the King’s guard reached their ears. At the mere sight of the golden-haired man the entirety of the courtiers and servants sank into demure bows. Alarice hesitated uncertainly for a second…waiting until Edouard assisted Francois’ bow and assuring herself he was secure before dipping into a respectful curtsey herself. The word “Majesty” rippled across the sea of people and ended on her own lips. His lineless face appeared pleasant and easy, she could only guess if the inside matched the outside.
“Princess.” He responded, thoroughly ignoring the rest of the people around him. “And Mr. Moreau. Good to see you’re feeling better. Is this extraordinary creature yours, by any chance?” The maliciousness that Herbert and Robert’s gentle joking had lacked was not absent in the voice of the King.
“The King enjoys zoological pursuits in his spare time.” She explained softly as King Orion observed Reena from the relatively safety of the outside of her enclosure. In between jotting down notes in a leather-bound journal, he addressed them once more. “The Princess is quite strapped for time, in light of preparations for her return to Licia school. As I’m sure you can understand Mr. Moreau.” Whereas Alarice had felt no need to learn more about Francois Moreau than he’d volunteered to her, the King apparently shared no such feelings. “But we always try to spend some private time together. We will be sharing a private dinner tomorrow…would you care to join us? …You don’t mind, my dear do you?”
“Whatever pleases you pleases me, my King.” She replied automatically, though her gut twisted at the idea of an interrogation over dinner. When Francois politely agreed she wasn’t sure whether to feel delight (at the chance to spend more time with him) or sheer terror (at the King getting the same.) She settled for giving them both a reason to leave.
“My King, as you’ve said – I have many preparations to make before I depart for school. And…” Trying to communicate to Francois a need for immediate escape, she shot him a quick look of warning behind the King’s back. “Mr. Moreau looks unwell. Perhaps this excursion warrants some rest on your part?”
“I do admit, I am feeling…rather fatigued. Perhaps I was a tad ambitious…”
His ready agreement let her relax, if only a little. It wasn’t until the King (without ever once turning to face them) dismissed them merrily that she stopped holding her breath.
“Make sure that Mr. Moreau and the Princess make it safely to their own room, James.” Orion added on, speaking to one of his armored guards who gave a quick nod and then extended his arm along the path back to the palace. “Princess, Mr. Moreau?” He said, effectively splitting the group into Francois and Edouard and herself, Robert, Herbert and Eirian as they walked. The return to the rooms was silent and the last words she was able to speak to Francois before he retired to his room were “Thank you for today, Mr. Moreau. I hope you rest well.”
Having said goodbye to him, “James” then further escorted her back to her own room and left with a stoic bow. Alone with her three guards, a jumble of feelings and the realization that she hadn’t eaten all day she turned to Herbert. As usual, no words were needed.
“I’ll get Qui…well…I’ll get someone to get started on dinner. Come on Rob, we may as well give the girls some time to get to know each other. Besides, I bet if we look really hard we can find the Elephant Protocol…” With an imaginary tip of his hat (and a wink) at both women, Herbert escorted Robert out of the living room quarters and left them alone. Thoroughly exhausted, Alarice took a seat on one of the lushly upholstered, chaises in the room. Feeling a bit like a child about to be scolded, so confounded were the depths of Eirian’s eyes, Alarice invited the young woman to sit down as well.
“This must all be very…disorienting…Miss. Lindval.” She chuckled softly, “I don’t imagine Herbe…Mr. Dubhan’s making it easier for you. I think he means to be…friendly but ….he has very wide boundaries.”
Male laughter could be heard from one of the other rooms, words like “joking” and “ridiculous” jumbled with “elephant” to form a vague explanation of the conversation being had between them. “He and Mr. Ward had some initial difficulties but as you can see they’ve become quite close and I’d like for all of us to be friends.”
“Dinner is ready your highness.” A petite, short-haired maid called from the doorway. Rising, Alarice waited for Eirian to stand before walking with her to the dining room. Although four places were set, Robert and Herbert could still be heard joking from afar.
“They’ll be a while.” She explained, with a smile. “Whenever they’ve been apart too long they tend to appreciate each other and the reprieve they give themselves from guarding a teenage girl all-the-more.”
As if to prevent any protests from Eirian, Alarice changed the topic. “I think it might help to get to know each other better if we were to ask each other some questions about one another.” After thanking a maid for pouring her a glass of water, she raised her glass in the blonde guard’s direction. “By all means, you first.”