Fantasy Diamond in the Rough

Felis · Jan 16, 2019

Something felt slightly off, Anselm noted. Despite the council members for the most part being the same ones that had been coming together and debating for as long as Anselm held his position, there was a different atmosphere. Understandably, as the deaths of the king and queen surely still lingered on everyone's minds, his included.

The former princess and new queen sat at the head of the table in her late father's stead, facing five of his most esteemed advisors in what would be the first assembly of the Small Council since she had ascended the throne. Anselm was quite curious how this meeting would play out. Despite him being in the proximity of Her Highness more than most people could claim during these past few weeks, he had not heard her speak beyond orders for handling the funeral, her coronation and rote tasks, so it would be interesting getting to know her style of leadership better now.

From his position near the doors where he stood with a few young cupbearers, children who would be sent outside once the council commenced in earnest, Anselm swept a gaze over the present nobles.

To the left of the queen was Lord Venclas Exteberria, royal steward and one of the late king's most trusted men. Lord Exteberria was an aging man with grey hair and a moustache that seemed to change its fashion at least monthly, but, from Anselm's limited experience, reasonable and true to his word - if sometimes stubborn.

On Jordasche Rasim's other side sat Duke Kiedebeer Amand, the kingdom's chancellor tasked with overseeing most administrative and diplomatic affairs and head of the parliament. A middle-aged man who liked to throw the weight of his old lineage and connections around, but left the actual tasks (especially the paperwork) to his wife Lorentien, his presence served mostly to appease his sensibilites and thus keep the court free of further commotion. Lady Lorentien's attendance, of course, had a practical purpose.

Going clockwise, the next council member was Lord Naveid Deborgil, who rose to the position of general through his military accomplishments - which was... impressive, considering the kingdom had enjoyed a long time of peace with no outright wars. Anselm didn't presume to question anyone's decisions in that regard, however; Lord Deborgil's charisma at the very least made him a well-respected leader.

In the middle of the far side of the table, opposite the queen was the third and last female noble in the room: Duchess Iardhenna Synemaer, whose headstrong presence and prudent spending habits had paved the road for her to become treasurer. It was easy enough to stay on her good side as long as you did not try to empty the royal coffers one way or the other. The saying was that her husband Weltar was one of the richest and poorest men in the realm at the same time, as she watched like a hawk over every coin he tried to spend.

Finally, there was Lord Rogelio Topez. Despite him being 'only' the second son of some other, higher-ranking noble, he possessed a streak of cunning and resourcefulness that both left him a lost asset if uninvited and, quite frankly, a possible threat if he ever chose to cut ties with the monarchy. Lord Topez was officially employed as strategist for the army, but during this period of peace, he served as an advisor for any instance that needed one.

Outside, the bell rang for the completion of the full hour. Save for the queen's introductory greeting of the participants, the council had officially begun. Anselm moved to open the doors and ushered the younger servants outside - for some reason, the late king had begun the custom of having his personal retainer as the only attendant in these smaller meetings, and Queen Jordasche had chosen to continue this tradition.

Gemma Nye · Jan 18, 2019

Rumors of the supposedly softspoken princess-now-queen have been circulating for as long as Jordasche could remember. Even at a tender toddler age, the brunette was met with uncertainty by both adults and children alike. They kept their families tight to their chests anytime the previous rulers toured the kingdom as the princess did not usually accompany on these visits. This occurred more so in outlying villages than within the civilian area directly surrounding the castle.

King Rubius Rasim shrunk the active kingdom to fit more subjects within its direct protection. This left the immediate area around the thick-walled fortress available for people to live in. He also put more emphasis on perimeter protection and increased the guard force by one troupe to keep his people safe. Jordasche knew full well why people loved her parents. Rubius, a decorated war hero as he'd grown up in tumultuous times, came to reign at the beginning of this peaceful period showering the lands with progressive and carefully thought enhancements to make life better. The liberal approach angered the Court due to its cost and extravagance, but it was something the Great King Rubius felt strongly about. He stood quite tall and stocky with a full beard of chocolate brown hair that matched his daughter's. The sheer size of the king intimidated several factions into caving into procedures they otherwise might not have been fully on-board with.

Lest we forget the kingdom's darling, the late Queen Sheena Rasim. Her beauty was foretold across the lands and in an almost criminally perfect meeting, the low-ranked noblewoman fell in love with the crowned prince. There was little refute when Rubius married her and then proceeded to become king. Frictions arose primarily after Jordasche was born and her elder brother had passed.

While there has been a single reigning queen in the history of the kingdom, she acquired the throne through marriage and the loss of the king. Traditionally, there has not been a female of royal blood to assume the throne and reign with no spouse. Of course, there have been multiple children born within the immediate royal family, but the birthright goes to the eldest in the bloodline. Remus came before Jordasche and should be the king now, though he was sickly from a young age and passed along with others in a small plague that swept through the kingdom after some minor flooding.

Her mesmerizing hazel-amber eyes scanned the room as things began to quiet. She could feel her heart beating in her throat though her demeanor suggested nothing more than unreadable calm. Jordasche knew the Court was not in favor of her, though she could not let that diminish her worth. She honestly had no preference for the throne as she was born under the assumption her older brother would naturally follow after her father. The throne rightfully belonged to Jordasche, now, though. Fear couldn't be something she allowed any of these members to smell on her. While they were all well recommended in their own areas and boasted many successes, triumphs and contributions, snakes still slithered among them.

In accordance with more "proper" attire, the queen had been fitted in a modest, though structurally elegant gown. It yielded no embroidery apart from the belt that cinched her waist, just long, soft fabric that flowed from her midsection all the way to the floor. The deep blue dress flattered the young woman's figure and made her seem a bit taller, even. She wasn't used to wearing anything this ornate, though she already groaned and griped about the largely extravagant gown slated for her to wear at her coronation ball. Her long hair had been braided into an updo which was adorned with one of the royal tiaras in the front with the remainder of her silken hair flowing from the hairstyle's capture down her back. The queen was dressed for her first Court meeting.

She and Anselm had discussed, somewhat, about details of this very meeting and things moving forward, though the conversations were brief and the two still hadn't really found a way they work best together. Jordasche found herself a little meek in approach as the succession wasn't a planned event for the royal family. The expectation mainly circulated around the king and queen reigning and then Jordasche will have married by the time she were to assume the throne. She never understood what difference it made if she were married--she was the rightful heir to the throne and her husband would only have diplomatic rights because her married into royalty.

Her breaths were slow to keep her pulse down and her nerves under control. Anselm's encouragement over these last few weeks helped tremendously. She always considered herself to be fond of the attendant as he was thorough, reliable and loyal. He executed his job with care both with her father's reign and hers. She didn't hesitate in the slightest to continue removing all attendants from Council meetings as her father had. Having come to a bit older of an age, she now realized that the servants, often uninformed on procedures, spread misinformation under any premise of intent. Her father didn't exactly see what the point was of having servants in the room as he ruled transparently.

The room had grown a bit silent as everyone began taking their seats after the bell had rung for session to commence. All eyes looked upon the new queen and Jordasche read skepticism and reverence across the board. She greeted them politely as she was trained to do from a young age, though the resounding response with the added "your highness" or "your majesty" still didn't ring familiarly with her. Being addressed in the manner had not been something Jordasche considered herself used to in just these few weeks.

"I thank you all for coming," she spoke with a clear voice that from the reactions of many, could possibly be one of the first times she'd ever been heard by the Council members. "I have met some of you in the past and I thank you for your service with my father. I would hope our amiable relationships can continue to foster growth for our kingdom. The late King Rubius's plans centered mostly around protecting what we already have, though in this time of peace, I do not wish to diminish those efforts already in place. Perhaps investing in other arenas would prove more beneficial for our people. Living is comfortable for the rich, but there are plenty of people unable to maintain simple necessities let alone luxuries. I guess you could say I plan on broadening my father's approach even more liberally. Of course, I still have my first tour scheduled to start as early as tomorrow or the day after, so I will take that time to gather a more concrete idea of my wishes for my kingdom."

Her voice had come to a stop and silence still filled the room. Some looks on the faces of the Small Council, Iardhenna's who Jordasche knew would shrivel up as it most certainly meant the ventures would have some form of price tag, didn't seem particularly keen on the idea. Naturally, the maids (they know everything) had already rumored to Jordasche that through the grapevine of the maids of the other nobles' houses on the Small Council, didn't know what to expect due to the princess's limited exposure. She took the lack of immediate dissent to continue.

"Being that this is future news and there hasn't been a council meeting since prior to my father's passing, I would like to take this meeting to discuss matters at hand rather than matters to-be. I have an account of notes taken on parchment of previous meetings by our scribes. We shall begin session with old business. Who would like to report?"

Felis · Jan 20, 2019

With the queen's first words, the council session commenced. Anselm remained in his place at the door, arms crossed behind his back where his fingers tugged absentmindedly on the black fabric of his doublet on occasion. Despite him giving the best impression of being virtually deaf to any word not directed at him, he was listening attentively. Anselm's understanding was that the more knowledge about Queen Jordasche's work he had, the more efficiently he could support her. He approved of the direction she wanted to take, but at the same time, it was a challenging endeavour for her to not only maintain the status quo, but expand on it while she was still new to the throne, to say the least.

Anselm was not very surprised when it was Duke Amand who spoke up first, bare moments after the queen had uttered her concluding question.

"Your Highness, let me begin by saying that I could not be more honored to be permitted resume my duties under your magnanimous rule and thus continue to follow in my ancestors' footsteps, who have been in service to your family for many generations. Your concern for your people distinguishes you, as does your vigour in committing to the affairs of the kingdom so shortly after your sudden coronation. At this point, allow me to once more express my heartfelt condolences for the untimely passing of your father and mother."

Anselm was fairly sure Kiedebeer Amand could have gone on in this grandiose way of saying nothing with many words for several more minutes, but he was subtly interrupted by his own wife. The skill with which Duchess Amand pushed the stack of documents in front of her into the range of her husband's vision in the exact instant of silence created by him breathing in before he could resume his speech was remarkable.

At the rustle of parchment, Duke Amand halted for another moment, cleared his throat and then almost seamlessly switched to describing his work since the last council, interspersed with the occasional addition or correction of details from his wife. The greater part of his statements concerned routine administrative tasks of directing interactions between subordinate authorities, minor changes in ownership of land and disputes over the same matter as well as handling the correspondence with other countries' diplomats. The piece of information of the perhaps most immediate interest, however, was that the next session of parliament had been adjourned until after the queen's tour of the kingdom, so that she could attend.

Once the duke had finished his report, Duchess Synemaer wasted no time in brazenly stating her opinion without any preambles after the fashion of Kiedebeer Amand.

"Forgive me for being frank here, Your Highness, but I must insist that increasing our expenses without increasing our incomes in the same amount is an impossibility in the long run. In other words, every additional investment requires an additional tax or other stream of revenue."

Maintaining her scowl of disapproval, she paused for a few heartbeats to let her words sink in. Lord Deborgil used this moment to express his own sentiments, which redirected Iardhenna Synemaer's glare to him, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"Personally, I believe any investment made for the good of the people pays its returns on its own. For one, I know that my soldiers are keener on protecting actual homes to return to than buildings that can barely be called shacks. Motivation and discipline are intrinsically linked, and thus, we can look at it as a down payment for keeping our citizens safe. I also seem to recall that robberies in the areas with increased welfare have dwindled significantly."

The Lady Treasurer's glowering had gone from cold to icy, and after she cut in with an impatient cough, this circumstance came to Naveed Deborgil's attention as well.

"Beg pardon, I did not intend to interrupt," he apologized with an amiable smile, then gave the hint of a bow in his seat and gestured for Iardhenna Synemaer to go on. Except for a curt nod, she proceeded to ignore the general and pick up where she had left off.

"Everything needs to be done in moderation, Your Highness, but I am certain you are aware of this fact," she went on in a more agreeable tone. "Thus, I shall now proceed to summarize the balance of accounts since the last council."

From here on, the reports continued in a more orderly fashion, and while it would be impossible to memorize the entire details of ledgers, personnel assignments and postponed trials, Anselm did his best to keep the overall developments in mind.

In general, it appeared that people believed that the temporary but unavoidable disorder in the wake of the king's death was an opportune time to either state claims they had no right to or seek increased funds from the new ruler. The sheer amount of disputes over land ownership among neighboring nobles was astounding, but at least most of them had chosen to make use of the judicial system rather than start outright feuds, and both the roads and the border were still as secure as under King Rubius.

"Any other points have been sufficiently covered by the previous speakers, so I will omit them for the sake of avoiding redundancy," Lord Topez finally finished the round of reports, clasping his hands in front of him on the table. "Though at the risk of bringing up irrelevant matters, let me perhaps note that ever since Your Highness's coronation ball, the number of men speaking of seeking audience with you in the hopes of winning your heart and hand has risen dramatically. Of course, given the circumstances, their precipitance marks them as dreadfully inconsiderate of your loss. But perhaps after you return from your travels, you will be able to give the matter some thought."

Anselm, who was in the process of refilling the council members' cups with watered-down wine, had a splendid view at their reactions to this statement.

Lord Deborgil showed a dismissive smile with a small flick of his wrist to go with it, while Lord Exteberria nodded thoughtfully to himself. Duchess Amand's expression was polite and non-commital, though she slightly rolled her eyes despite herself. Considering the distribution of tasks between her and her husband, her attitude was understandable. Kiedebeer Amand himself did not look too pleased, either, probably because he hoped to push a son or nephew of his own as a candidate and did not cherish the competition. Duchess Synemaer's face featured yet another frown, though whether it was related to the suggestion itself or just to the possible costs of a wedding, Anselm couldn't judge.

He cast a glance at Queen Jordasche while walking back to his standby position. In a way, Lord Topez was doing her a favor in informing her of yet one more ulterior motive people might have when she interacted with them, but at the same time, Anselm couldn't help but feel the advisor was putting her on the spot with his remark. He thought back to previous meetings, trying to remember the reasons and excuses for intermissions in them. If the queen gave the appearance that the situation was becoming overwhelming, it was better if he could force a break elegantly, rather than by knocking over the scribe's ink jar the next time he passed her desk.

Gemma Nye · Jan 23, 2019

Duke Amand's grand prelude to his report bored Jordasche before he even began. She forgot how talky that man got. Jordasche would be glad that the Duchess was usually present, as well. She twinged a bit at the mention of the next council meeting being postponed until she got back. The royal family could, and did, attend Small Council meetings though the large part of them were regarding routine manners. Jordasche could elect not to go if she were not needed to propose or play audience to new legislation. Her black heeled foot tapped slowly under the sheath of her gown with her hands delicately folded in her lap as she sat before them with perfect posture. Jordasche enjoyed letting her hair hang freely and cover her eyes, even, if it will, so having her features exposed brought her slight discomfort. But she had to remember she was a Queen and would handle affairs as such.

Iardhenna's response, however, more or less lined up with Jordasche's response. In a conversation perhaps in the week prior, Jordasche recalls discussing the woman with Anselm in an attempt to get an idea of what the infamous treasurer was like. And though Jordasche didn't believe Naveid would interrupt Iardhenna to supplant his own regards on the matter. The argument the treasurer raised was valid and Jordasche would have to be careful to navigate the realm of funds in her endeavors. Surely, she didn't wish to bankrupt her kingdom in her efforts to improve life there. The rest of the reports seemed like standard business to be sorted in various meetings over time for Jordasche to oversee along with the Small Council until Lord Rogerio's remark toward the end of his statements. She felt the jab at her intended to deliver what the Lord deemed to be incompetence. The notion made her silently grit her teeth and took a short moment to collect her emotions in smooth composure.

Her body shifted slightly in her chair to face the Duke so that she may address him. "Thank you, Duke Amand. It is good to see you and the Duchess. I hope you two are well." Jordasche afforded the pair a slight bow of her head before she proceeded. "I would be happy to go over these matters with you. I believe a meeting with us would be more appropriate so that I may properly dedicate my attention to the manner. My kind Anselm would be gladly gracious enough to schedule you for sometime before I tour on your way out this evening, Duke. --Kiedebeer. You'll have to forgive me, I've got quite some years of being used to addressing you as Duke Amand." She chuckled, the light-hearted noise echoing just slightly off of the walls.

"As far as the budget, I am aware we will be unable to expend so frivolously without thought as to how to generate return on these investments. I am honestly interested in this tour so that I may visit with our two neighboring towns and effectively, with the one in our own backyard. Being much more reserved in my studies, my people do not know me well and I would like to personally become more acquainted. I plan on reviewing more concretely our affairs to formulate solutions to make everyone happy. Believe you, me, Duchess Synamaer. I would enjoy for our kingdom to thrive in health and wealth. My ventures are not one-sided."

"In the specific manner of land disputes, the story is as old as time. To more formally address this matter, Kiedebeer, as you'd stated it before, I will be happy to settle these arguments. Perhaps even some of them, right now. I cannot give audience to groundless fighting. They are welcome to go ahead and just split the land evenly down the middle and settle matters evenly. Otherwise, they may submit a report to be proposed at the next Small Council stating where the lands should be split and why. With examples. We shall go to the archives, if need be, to eradicate fantasies of ancestors' past. And if we are to curtail and follow on the winds upon mention of the ancestors, please do not forget Rogerio it is my ancestors' blood that flows within me that grants me audience in this court. My husband will be King by marriage and afforded diplomatic responsibility because of our union. The seat,....,the throne, however, resides with me by birthright with or without a spouse." Her eyes had narrowed slightly, but she quickly allowed her expression to smooth back out into indifference.

"Though, at my age, it's normal for a girl to fantasize about the man she will marry and fuss with all of the planning and details. Surely continuing the line is of importance for my family to continue ruling the throne." Jordasche's tone remained light but the remarks were pointed, unapologetic jabs right back at the Lord. She would remind him everyday that she was the Queen and her children will rule before she ever let him get his ghastly hands on the crown.

Since Rogerio's statement closed the queue of reports for the night, Jordasch took a couple of breaths to scan the table. "I thank you for allowing me to sit in on your meeting. I understand this is traditionally where you all will continue to discuss plans for upcoming events so I shall not keep you time. I look forward to our next encounter." The Queen rose to her feet and as did any other sitting individual in the room. They bowed to her and the discomfort made it hard to keep the disdain for the notion in check.

She quietly excused herself from the table and made her way across the room, exiting through the door which Anselm held open for her as she passed. Her eyes didn't make contact with him, though her face was less controlled with it facing the exit. Jordasche would continue walking off, not waiting in the slightest for Anselm to inquire about anyone who wished to schedule a meeting with the Queen. The stone hallways were lit with torches as darkness fell upon the lands. The Queen did her best to ignore the wide-eyed responses from the various servants she passed, some still adjusting to seeing her out and about the castle so often. She didn't stop until she made it to her chambers, sighing in relief as she entered the silence of the bedroom after the sound of the large, wooden doors closing behind her completed its muted echo.

The now-Queen's chamber was located in one of the most offbeat locations on castle grounds. It required more effort to trek to as it's accessible only by an easily overlooked small corridor. But it offered a great view from the balcony and a spacious living area that joined the room where she slept. She used to hide away in her bedroom and study or avoid having to deal with anyone. Just as she was doing now. Having gotten wind the queen had returned to her chambers, the maids entered with their usual greeting. Their hands were quick to untie the corset that bound Jordasche and set her form free, which she drew an appreciative long breath once they had done so.

Her mind was distracted with thoughts. Did Anselm think she did alright? Was she too overbearing? Not present enough? Does she seem meek and indecisive? She hardly noticed in the few minutes it took to get Jordasche's gown completely unlaced that they'd been waiting a short moment for her to step out of it so that they may stow it away properly. "Oh!" She gasped and quickly hopped free of the skirt and stepping aside. "Sorry." The maids were off with the dress, leaving Jordasche alone in her room again.

The brunette flopped onto the chaise that sat in the middle of the living area, staring up at the crystalline chandelier hanging above. Her hair was beginning to fall loose of its clips in some places and she knew eventually, the style would collapse, but she remained lounged across the furniture in the slip she wore underneath the dress.

What was she getting herself into?

Felis · Jan 26, 2019

Except for the quiet click when Anselm carefully closed the door behind Queen Jordasche, the room was quiet for several moments. Some of the council members still stared towards the exit, while others looked down at their respective stacks of parchment. General Deborgil had even taken to propping one elbow onto the table and cupping his forehead in his one hand, before he used the other one to slap it down onto the polished wood.

"Now you've gone and and upset our queen in the first meeting, Rogelio," he complained, switching into a more informal style of speech. "Was it really necessary to bring that up now? We are supposed to deal with administrative tasks here, not discuss every piece of gossip you pick up."

"I must agree!" bristled Duke Amand. "It was imperative that we make a good impression on Her Highness during this first assembly of the Small Council under her rule; and if you think you need to throw common sense to the wind and offend her, Lord Topez, that is your decision. But I will not have my reputation dragged down along with yours if you do so in the role as a council member!" At this point, Lorentien Amand began patting her husband's arm in what was a half pacifying, half scolding way, and he broke off, still staring daggers at the strategist.

"Naveid, what you call 'picking up gossip' is part of my business, for the record," Rogelio Topez finally began to defend himself. "And I believe it is imperative that Her Highness knows of this. At the end of the day, don't we all agree that the matter of her future royal husband is one she should approach with care? It would be troublesome if she were ignorant to the possibility that some handsome young nobles who seek her favour have more interest in her crown than her well-being." He shot a pointed look at Kiedebeer Amand to make sure the duke had registered the veiled jab at his attempts to make himself more important in the kingdom.

"It tells us much about your character, Lord Topez, if you actually believe women swoon over the first few words of flattery they get to hear," Duchess Synemaer cut in scathingly. "And would you mind terribly to not phrase it like a woman needs a man at her side to be worthy of her position the next time you give such sage advice?"

"There is nothing wrong with having a man at your side, however," Lorentien Amand now raised her voice as well, staring at the treasurer defiantly.

This, Anselm knew, meant that the hostility in the room was quickly leaving the levels of a normal argument behind.

With an effort, he fought off the frown forming on his face as he picked up a small handbell from the side table otherwise holding the wine jug and some utility for cleaning up in the event of a spilled cup or the like. He had to hurry after Queen Jordasche anyway, and now was as good as any time to interrupt.

"You will stop bickering like fools this instant!" Lord Exteberria broke his prior silence with a thunderous shout as he rose from his seat. "If your reputation is what truly concerns you, then put some effort into acting with dignity, whether Her Higness is present or not. That includes admitting to one's own mistakes-" he sternly regarded Lord Topez, "as well as dealing with others' mistakes in a mannerly way." The steward shifted his gaze over the rest of the assembly, lingering especially on Iardhenna Synemaer and Kiedebeer Amand.

An awkward hush fell over the room, with Anselm's footsteps being the only noise - even the continous scraping of pen on parchment had discontinued. As he approached the table, he could see from the corner of his eye the scribe's insecure expression before she went back to noting down the earlier flood of unpleasantry. Today's minutes would be ...interesting to read, to be sure.

The bell rang a muffled chime as Anselm placed it on the tabletop between the queen's empty seat and Lord Exteberria.

"Pardon my interruption, but I am afraid I must take my leave as well to attend to Her Highness," he explained with a solicitous bow. "If there is anything you require in my absence, please ring this bell and it will be seen to. Concerning the matter of scheduling a private audience, I ask that you send a messenger to Her Highness's quarters to arrange the details."

He bowed again, then retreated to the exit. On his way out, he could hear Duke Amand clear his throat and propose in an uncharacteristically subdued tone that they sort through the cases of land dispute still waiting to be settled.

Once outside in the hallways, it didn't take Anselm long to find and instruct one of the other servants to replace him in waiting on the council, and then he was on his way to the far side of the castle where the queen's quarters were located. He could safely assume that was where she had gone to.

In part, he had to confess, it was probably his fault that Queen Jordasche had been caught on the wrong foot by Lord Topez's remark. While he had tried to give her an overview of what to expect from each of the council members, Anselm himself had had years to grow used to their individual quirks and machinations, to expect and ignore them. Maybe he should have been more overstating in his descriptions? But he was in no position to exaggerate the flaws of people whose station was this far above him...

A flight of stairs, a turn through a narrow corridor, and after taking a shortcut through a tiny hallway hidden by a set of jib doors, he arrived at the queen's quarters and halted in front of the entrance. Always knock before entering a room - and doubly so if it concerned a lady's chambers.

Anselm rapped on the door a few times, then called out, "Your Highness, it's Anselm. May I enter?"

Gemma Nye · Jan 30, 2019

Jordasche felt an unsure feeling beginning to grow within her. Coming to power at such a time proved quite taxing on the new queen's body. She'd secretly succumbed to a couple of fevers over the course of weeks that have followed after her parents' passing. Stress and doubt weighted her mind heavily because it was never supposed to be her. Her brother, the beloved prince, had been born before her but did not live to assume the throne. All of a sudden, Jordasche's plate was overfilled with responsibility and she could just imagine the countless odds and ends and formalities she would have to keep track of now that she reigned. Her eyes slid shut and she attempted to take a few breaths.

The long day left her tired having spent the early part of the morning going through paperwork and discussing travel arrangements for the upcoming tour. Her nervousness merely struck her where she stood as a means of presenting what she wasn't sure what she could accomplish. Her family's legacy traced long back in time and legendary soldiers and mages hailed from the royal line, as well. She came from greatness. And she felt like she fit in nowhere. As a princess, she existed rather happily due to the fact the attention wasn't on her. For a short time in the excitement of a new baby in the kingdom, Jordasche's first introductions as an infant, subjects adored the princess. It became evident though that her talents and interests and overall aesthetic didn't exactly line up with the grand tapestry woven from her ancestor's endeavors. She had such big shoes to fill and she didn't even ask for a pair!

Speaking of, Jordasche brought a heel up to pry it off her foot with a hand before repeating the process with the other leg. Once her feet were freed, she released a relieved sigh, wiggling her toes that weren't stuffed and scrunched up anymore. She enjoyed being comfortable first and foremost which was a delicacy allotted to her as a princess but does not suit donning such attire in Small Council or other public outings. In a quick burst of thought, she realized she couldn't predict what anyone on the council was capable of and this was to her disadvantage. While she still had a means of advantage due to the fact that she doesn't have a wealth of public knowledge about her. Her popularity limited itself as the princess hadn't been the intended heir for the royal family and the shroud that covered her would give her the edge. How much of an edge she didn't exactly know.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the light rapping on the door. She rose from the chaise lounge and sauntered over toward the door. Her maid, Annalis, often returned to inquire about Jordasche's needs before she sets back off for daily duties. She would just have to send the woman away for the day. Jordasche reached out as she reached the wooden doors and grabbed hold of the handle to open the door. "Thanks, but no thanks, Annalis. I don't--" her words stopped short as her orbs registered who was on the other side of the door. Anselm stood waiting entry with Jordasche in shorter stature standing before him. She quickly turned around so that he couldn't peer through the sheer fabric of the slip she wore. Dressing so formally required the garment to create a smoother fit for gowns and she'd totally forgotten that she was essentially undressed at the moment. She could feel her cheeks burning an insane shade of red, but she truthfully was not all that shy. Having been tended to by maids her whole life, Jordasche remained fairly comfortable dressing or undressing in front of whomever since the maids stripped her down to get her prepared for whatever the day lay ahead. A twitter of nervousness fluttered in her stomach thinking about being as exposed in front of Anselm.

She held the man in high regard even when he worked for her father. Jordasche's reputation in the castle was that of scarce appearance but fierce opinion. Rumor tells of the young princess's furious bouts over injustices in the kingdom or her forthright nature of methodically establishing patterns in behavior that she recognized as being unfair or sneaky. She never felt any of the vibes she received from other nobles she noticed from an early age. This feeling of contempt, privilege, prejudice... Jordasche didn't know how much she'd be able to get people to change. Anselm believed in her and has already been a source of encouragement for the queen. Her desire was not to startle the attendant with views more intimate than the two of their relationship deem appropriate to allow.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, her arms folding across her chest which didn't exactly help as her breasts pushed together only to accentuate her cleavage. She released an exasperated sigh before scanning the living area for a blanket, finding a knit throw to wrap around her form to shield her feminine physique well enough. "I thought you were Anna."

Felis · Feb 6, 2019

The fact alone that the door handle was pushed down without Anselm having received a reply should have told him that something was about to go differently than he had expected, but he was still startled when the queen herself yanked the door open, and moreso when he registered that she was essentially wearing... just enough to not call it nothing.

And that is why male retainers usually attend to male nobles, shot through Anselm's head as his eyes widened in shock for an instant, before he hurried to squeeze them shut, take a step back and drop into a bow deep enough he wouldn't have seen higher than Queen Jordasche's knees even if he tried.

"Please forgive me, Your Highness," he apologized, trying to keep his voice level and collected and not let any of his fluster and frustration for having ended up in such a position shine through. "I wasn't aware ..." he trailed off. At least holding his head so low would cover up some of the burn in Anselm's cheeks as a natural flush from gravity pulling more blood into his head.

As he heard soft footsteps signalling that the queen was moving back into the room, he allowed his posture to relax a little, but continued to fix his eyes firmly to the ground. Better to be safe than sorry.

He was still embarrassed by the situation, but Anselm took a little solace in the fact that the two of them had had several weeks to develop a good working relationship before this mishap - he didn't want to picture the consequences if this had happened during one of his first days as Queen Jordasche's attendant. In spite of the fact that it was just an accident and thus strictly speaking not anyone's fault, it wouldn't have made a good impression, to say the least. Aside from his own reputation, his whole family worked in the castle in various professions, and although he didn't truly think they would be regarded less on his account, such concerns were part of the reason he hated making mistakes.

"No, I'm entirely to blame for this," Anselm refused the queen's own apology. "I should have spoken up more loudly to avoid a misunderstanding such as this." The swishing sound of fabric followed, and on the assumption that it had been some article of clothing, he carefully straightened himself. While it turned out to be merely a blanket, it returned enough propriety to the situation for Anselm to return his focus to the actual tasks at hand - the aftereffects of the council session and the upcoming tour through the kingdom.

"Ah, I should mention that there will be one or the other messenger from the council members who wish to speak to you privately later today, Your Highness," he said as he walked to the escritoire in one of the corners of the room, where he pretended to sort the papers. They weren't in such a disorder to need sorting, but it would make the atmosphere more natural than if he just stood there, unsure whether it was better to meet the queen's eye or keep staring holes into the floor. Maybe they should set down a protocol for situations such as this, some day.

"I thought that would be a better solution than having them make demands on when Your Highness should be available for an audience, as I can only relay such requests and not outright refuse them, unless they conflict with a scheduled event. Sending notes back and forth, however-" he held up a spare dip pen that had been left on the tabletop before returning it to its place in one of the drawers, "- allows for you to enforce your terms more easily, or even draft an unoffensive rejection."

Anselm looked back towards the queen for a moment with the hint of a conspiratorial smile, then set out a few smaller blank sheets of parchment, an ink jar and a pen on the escritoire, a preparation for return messages. "Right now, the Small Council should still be busy sorting out land disputes, though. There was a bit of a commotion over Lord Topez's remark, but Lord Exteberria made sure the discussion took a more productive turn soon." He couldn't help an unhappy frown forming on his face. "My apologies on that account, as well. I'm afraid I may have understated before how... taxing our esteemed council members can be at times."

Phrasing descriptions of other nobles Queen Jordasche hadn't met yet was a sort of balancing act. On the one hand, with exasperating individuals such as Lord Topez, it was important that the queen had an idea of what to expect. On the other hand, if Anselm was too critical in his evaluation and the queen got along well with the noble after all, it would not reflect well on the Anselm - it wasn't a crime per se to gossip or exaggerate negative character traits a little, but at the same time, it was somewhat unbecoming of the queen's own attendant.

Thus, unsure on how much to say on that earlier event, Anselm decided to change the topic. "In the meantime, is there anything for your tour of the kingdom that still needs to be taken care of, Your Highness?" Most of the logistics were already in place, of course, but from Anselm's experience, there was always something left to do before any lengthy journey - some additional item to pack or even to unpack again, minor changes to the route, the list could go on and on.

Gemma Nye · Feb 6, 2019

Being a queen wasn't something Jordasche could describe as tiring yet, but she certainly felt exhausted. She felt starved for personal time which she hadn't had much of at all since being crowned the queen. All these matters simply bored the girl because most of them centered around greediness and a lack of any attempt to actually understand one another. The job belonged to her, though, so she would see it through.

She found being seen by Anselm in such a state didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. She had accidentally expected Anna, however she was in her own room and therefore may or may not be wearing clothes. For heaven's sakes, if she couldn't even be comfortable in her own living chambers she would just guillotine whoever got on her nerves until she felt satisfied. Anselm would have to get used to the queen in whatever form she came in. He needed to attend to her regardless of what she wore and there will more than likely be meetings they'll hold whilst she is being actively dressed. Just in these short few weeks, Anselm had yet to encounter a partially dressed queen, but if she could be honest, sometimes things would be much more convenient to have the discussions whenever they can. What exhausted Jordasche was rushing to get ready then practically running about the castle to make these meetings because he's hung around until she was 'decent' enough to talk with. She doubted he exercised the same precautions with the late king so Jordasche couldn't fathom why she should be different. It really would allow her more ease since she can talk and get dressed at the same time so she didn't see a reason to waste time when her days were already packed with meetings, greetings and appearances.

In regards to his remarks after her departure, Jordasche could only roll her eyes. "I know who he thinks he is but he has an awful lot of nerve," she huffed lightly, pushing her long hair back over her shoulder.

"I'm rather bored with such matters, though," her words were quiet now as she came to take a seat on the chaise again. "Anything but. I doubt they'll be up to schedule a meeting before I leave. I'm not reviewing any proposals that aren't formally prepared. You can't tell me all of the reports they have now are valid enough for my review. Not only that, to be fair, they'll have to boost out the news that proposals are due for all land acquisition requests. I had a look at some of the proposals from my father's last review and they were dreadful. lll-written with little sufficient evidence to prove the land belonged to them or its historical significance in relation to them or their families."

By this point, Jordasche had reclined fully back on the lounge, pulling a decorative pillow over her face. "I swear on't, Anselm. I'm not having it. I will be tossing the proposals out if they can't be bothered to effectively essay why the land should be theirs. Be better if they didn't waste my time, at all. I know I said they could take a deal and whoever is arguing over the land agree to split it evenly. But maybe I should just come through and claim it all as mine." She was partially kidding. It's not as though that's how she truly felt she would proceed but she couldn't be construed the type to not actually go through with it. Jordasche was usually a woman of her word whether they were in jest or in seriousness.

"In more interesting matters, or rather ones I can be bothered with, we'll have to change our meetings. Something has to give. As the queen, I cannot keep rushing about the castle trying to be one time because we are squeezing our meetings in. There is nothing wrong with you being present in my living chambers regardless of my attire, Anselm. Anna is required to wait on me so she must come and go freely. Your status as my attendant grants you passage into these corridors anyway. No reason for you to sit around and wait for me to get dressed to go over matters you advise need my attention. It's crunching my schedule too much. We'll have to start doing more than one thing at a time if we intend on keeping me on schedule throughout this tour. Also, during the tour, my schedule will be even tighter so I doubt we have the time to afford having you wait out of 'respect'. If it can be granted, I suppose so. But I'd honestly rather we sort matters if they are at hand than prioritizing them over whether or not you should see my breasts."

All in all, Jordasche would have to work on her formal speech. She tended to talk more personally and used whatever diplomatic discretion she obtained to navigate what seems alright to say and what is better left unsaid. But she came across a bit too casually for a noble's liking. It's not as though she could truly speak out of turn but she could certainly stand to be less colloquial when she spoke. She didn't need to be made fun of for not being able to properly address the court or refrain from using such passionate and sometimes appropriate language in such manners.

Jordasche then took a moment to brief Anselm over her thoughts on the tour. In fact, the topic dominated most of the conversation they held for the next couple of days as time passed between the Small Council meeting and the morning before she was set to head off throughout the countryside. She'd expressed internal gratitude that the tour would be more of a showing than anything particularly diplomatic so it's not as though she would need to do a whole lot of active reigning while she was gone. Her needs were easy to meet since she didn't have a list of demands like other nobles traditionally had to ensure their comfort while traveling. All requests were reasonable and simple for Anselm to arrange. The frills and fuss were an unnecessary part of the tour. There would already be more unnecessary gowns she had to wear for her appearances.

So when the morning of the tour came around, Jordasche exited her bedroom chambers on time for once and headed down the hallway toward the stairs that would allow her to access the main part of the castle where she knew Anselm to be preparing the last minute arrangements. She greeted the attendant with a small smile, it still being far too early for her liking bu the day's journey required them to be en route to the next settlement by sunrise. Meeting in the darkness of the middle of the night soothed no part of Jordasche's soul and though she was (forced) dressed in a delectable selection of Anna's that accentuated her cleavage in a tasteful and fashionable manner yet the bodice and skirt remained more modest. It's rich dark red color complimented her paler skin tone and brought out the natural blush her cheeks yielded. Apart from looking as stunning as she did after Anna stuffed the ragdoll into the dress and made it up, her eyes were dark with pure hatred. Anselm would be learning at this time that Jordasche can't be considered to be a morning person and her quiet brooding would have to suffice.

She was there, wasn't she?

Felis · Feb 8, 2019

Even though Anselm was still a little tense, hearing Queen Jordasche's complaint about Lord Topez brought a grin to his face despite himself. It was good to hear her speak openly, and also a relief to see that despite her abrupt departure from the council room, she was more frustrated than mortified. Frustration was a natural emotion when dealing with the council members - even though they tried to work together most of the time, their jibes and bickering were a constant background noise during sessions. Eventually, one just learned to ignore them.

"I'll send the council instructions on how to deal with the disputes before we leave, Your Highness," he replied during a pause in the queen's comments on the quarrels over land. "We can include a passage that anyone who fails to submit the appropriate paperwork automatically relinquishes their demand. That ought to increase the amount of formally correct proposals, and any land that ends up unclaimed would go back to the crown." The last part would likely not happen - human greed would see to that, and they'd certainly return from the tour to find an impossible amount of forms and documents. But at least they'd be able to do proper work on those papers, then.

Queen Jordasche's next remarks surprised Anselm a little, but of course, she was right. There was little point to being a personal retainer if he spent half of his time waiting outside doors or sending notes to the queen instead of directly speaking to her. "Yes, that is a valid argument, Your Highness," Anselm conceded, then, after looking for words to explain himself for several moments, simply nodded again and decided to say nothing more on the matter. He would do his best not to be startled like that again, but he would continue to knock or call out before entering the queen's quarters. It was one thing to be comfortable around each other, but another one to barge into a room as if he had not a care in the world.

The tour itself would be considerably unpretentious as far as royal visits went - both the situation with the land disputes and Queen Jordasche's dismissal of fancy supplements saw to that. The first point made it advisable to not stop at noble's castles whenever possible, and the second point meant the queen didn't mind a well-reputed inn instead of the Lords' estates. So lodgings were for the most part arranged at inns, which in turn required the entourage to consist only of the minimum amount of people required: the queen's maids, Anselm, a few people seeing to the supplies needed in between stops and some to take care of the horses, a messenger to send word back to the capital if needed (and a handler of a handful of carrier pigeons), and, of course, guards. Though the kingdom was about as peaceful as it could be, having a royal travel without any protection at all was simply unthinkable. In total, the convoy came to several dozen people - few enough to even the higher costs of booking rooms instead of staying at castles as guests. Duchess Synemaer would be pleased with that.

The more Queen Jordasche and Anselm discussed the tour, the more the attendant found himself looking forward to it himself. Of course, it wasn't a leisure trip for him by any means, but as the queen's (or before that, the king's) presence was usually required in the capital, he too rarely ever left the castle. Aside from the sightseeing features of this tour - the citizens would be sure to try and impress the queen with their local wares and customs every now and then - this would also be a good opportunity to see the state of the kingdom and thus be able to gauge whose reports were actually accurate in both the council and parliament, and who liked to either brush over problems or exaggerate them.

When it was finally the day of their departure, Anselm was already up and about well before dawn in order to coordinate most of the last tasks: loading the luggage, checking attendance (he'd had some workers skip employments they deemed tedious through "oversleeping" and missing the convoy's departure before, and he wasn't having that ever again) and generally meddling in minor details here and there. Though most of the logistics had been covered by Lord Exteberria's scribes and officials during the past days, Anselm didn't feel right until he felt he had a good understanding of them himself - especially when it was a journey with only an assessable number of people where it was still a feasible undertaking.

Even when Queen Jordasche arrived in the main hall, it was still dark outside. Anselm interrupted his perfunctory bustling to hurry over and bid her good morning, his polite smile tinged with a hint of amusement at the queen's barely concealed sleepiness and bad mood. To be fair, however, if Anselm hadn't been used to waking up early from childhood on, he might have been in a similar temper now, so he was considerate enough to not bring up any of the minor matters left to be discussed as he led her to their carriage. Those could wait until both of them were reasonably awake again. The convoy left the castle perfectly on schedule, moving through the gates and down the winding road that led to the capital city just as the sun rose over the horizon.

The first few weeks of the tour proved fairly uneventful. With the cooperation of the mild weather of late spring, the journey progressed smoothly and they were able to keep to the itinerary to a tee. Though there were bouts of rain and thunderstorms every now and then, they were never heavy enough to impede their progress whenever they had to take one of the smaller dirt roads instead of the larger, paved ones, so aside from having to seek shelter here and there, it didn't pose much of an obstacle.

When they put around a third of the round trip behind them, the first complication worth that term arose.

It was still fairly early in the morning, but late enough for all of the travelers to either have finished breakfast or be in the middle of it, when the one member of the guard who had pro forma been sent out scouting the day before returned with the first bad news of the tour - the inn in the next town they were supposed to stay had burnt down only a few days ago, along with half of the other buildings, and given that the settlement was mainly a few small houses containing shops and workshops and the considerably larger inn huddled around a section around the road, the village now truly didn't have any lodgings available. This alone wouldn't have been a problem if they hadn't been passing through a stretch of land contested by two neighbouring lords who were of the opinion that letting the court resolve the matter wasn't their preferred option and had started a feud over it, which made matters a bit more troublesome.

Anselm rushed up the stairs to Queen Jordasche's room after hearing the report, clicking his tongue in annoyance. This wasn't a devastating adversity to be sure, but it was still an annoying piece of bad luck, and in the worst case, even fairly dangerous. He knocked on the door, waited for a few seconds and entered when nobody shouted for him to stay out - a slight compromise between efficiency and privacy.

"There are essentially three options," he began once he had explained the situation to the queen. "The first two are that we make for the castle of either of those nobles and spend the night there, as both should be close enough for us to make it there by sunset. The downside to this is that it will offend the other noble, and it can be seen as taking sides by others. The third possibility is for us to stay en route, move past the ruined village, keep going through the rest of the afternoon and evening until nightfall and then make camp. While this would allow you to stay neutral, it could get somewhat dangerous, aside from the minor drawback of being less comfortable. We have no information how far this feud has progressed and whether there is already active armed conflict. If there is, it is possible that our camp would be mistaken for forces from one of the lords' personal military in the dark and get attacked. They would probably realize their mistake soon enough for no harm to come to you or any of your unarmed followers, but there is always the danger of a fire breaking out during the fight as well."

Anselm crossed his arms and let out a frustrated sigh. "For the moment, I will send a few guards to scout again and try to determine how hostile exactly these two lords have become already, so we will stay in this town for another day or two in any case. But with the information at hand, what would your preferred choice be, Your Highness?" He allowed himself a dry smile before he jokingly added, "Sadly, it is a bit impractical to wait for the next inn to be rebuilt. I am afraid I don't know much about either of the squabblers or their claims, either." That actually was one of the things vexing Anselm most - both territories were almost tiny compared to the duchies and larger counties, but their owners still fought over fractions of it. Maybe it was even this insignificance that made these two disregard the law and thus hinder the progress of their journey in the first place.

"Of course, we can always turn around and go back the way we came," Anselm belatedly added, "but I allowed myself to presume for the moment that you would like to finish the tour instead of discontinuing it."

Gemma Nye · Feb 13, 2019

Jordasche had been laying in bed, having gotten round up some time ago to be dressed in a half awake state and then skipping breakfast to sleep in. She jolted up in bed, lightly made up as best as Anna could do under these migrant circumstances, sleepiness intermingling with an arguably alert expression. It was just Anselm coming to get her, so she stood, but she sat back down once he began explaining the situation. Things did look bleak, indeed. She listened to him intently as she sat on the bed, not responding for a long moment while she pondered the options.

"I'd prefer to not house with the nobles out of favoritism. However, in light of events, this isn't favoritism. I am not here on holiday so it's not as though I'm choosing one over the other's home to vacation at. Realistically, I think whatever keeps us closest to being on schedule will be best," Jordasche's leg lifted to cross over the other under her light blue dress. "Camping is not ideal due to both natural threats and possible attacks, but I've never been so I'm not that opposed to it. Bunking with a noble will yield comfort, but some of these nobles don't live off the traveling roads. They moreso have roads laid down to get from them to the town. We'd have to make sure we aren't spending all day getting there only to have to backtrack or go inordinately out of our way just to get back on route."

Her finger tapped to her lips a few times before it just rested there. "Don't send the scouts out into that nonsense. Have them poke around town to check the state of the roads in those areas. We'll be able to find out much faster and safer what takes us the least far off our intended route of travel in order to stay on schedule. If one of them has a road nearby that will connect us back to our original path then we may choose that location. Otherwise, we might as well camp if getting to and from where we're supposed to be going wastes too much of our time." Jordasche shrugged as she finished voicing her thoughts to Anselm, not exactly sure if the opinion would change over the next couple of days they would be staying in the current town. They would just have to wait for the intel to dictate what their next move would be.

She tried to wait the time out patiently, but in the early evening of the second day after being halted in this town, she couldn't take it anymore. So. Bored. Jordasche was sprawled about on the small sofa in her suite, laden with boredom from the downtime in the tour. To let the horses rest and give the soldiers a bit of time off, the caravan would stop every night or every other night for everyone to let their hair down. She knew she'd loathe this particular leg of the journey, though. The downtime was minimal so that Jordasche didn't find herself loitering in any one place for too long. These days, she was either traveling or meeting with someone. And when they got a couple of days of scheduled downtime, she normally felt ready to leave by the end of the first. A break felt nice, but Jordasche didn't consider herself to be entertained in these extended breaks. And to add, now they'd been sitting around for nearly four days and Jordasche hadn't done anything.

Anna struggled with Jordasche over her wardrobe, but Jordasche insisted on bringing garments that didn't expose her breasts or otherwise necessitate she be bound in a corset or otherwise blaringly ladylike. So she bartered a few lower key dresses to slip on so she doesn't feel as conspicuous as well as some sets of designer lounge wear. The notion sounded ridiculous to Jordasche and it still was, even as she wore a set of fashionable pants tailored for the female body but retained an androgynous feel about them. A deep cut blouse that took after styles peasants or middle class wore. Jordasche looked less like the average woman and not like anyone would figure the Queen to be. Add her boots and a cloak, she probably could pass as male.

This thought brought Jordasche up to sit on the couch, a sudden flicker of interest illuminating her face. She could slip under the radar probably. Which meant she could probably slip on out of this inn. Jordasche couldn't go anywhere. She'd swear it that if the facilities weren't in this building, she'd have an entourage accompany her while she did her business. The attention was suffocating Jordasche. That's why she preferred to be on the road and taking care of manners on this tour. It wasn't a social call for her.

She looked around, peeking out the window that sat behind her on the wall the couch was pressed up against. The guards had since completed some rounds and were beginning to wind down for the night. Jordasche could tell by the way there were more weapons stored than carried. This meant the first night shift had gone out to their stations leaving those not on duty to passively man the fort until sleeping rotations began. Jordasche knew exactly where the soldiers would be stationed about the town. And she knew no one was aware of the outfit she owned.

Her legs swung off the couch and she quietly rushed over to the small closet in the room and donned the black cloak hanging in there for when it rained or if it were chilly or windy as it oft got in certain parts of the land. She paused for a few breaths, not hearing any footsteps outside in the hallway. Jordasche deemed it probable that there was a guard somewhere in the hallway if not right at her door. Her eyes then flickered to the window on the other side of the room that faced the back of the building. Less light came from this port than the other due to it facing away from the center of town, so she went to investigate. She figured she could climb out the window and scale down the building using a network of ivy that wound its way up the side of it.

She tested the window as if to just check for some fresh air and opened the panels. There wasn't a squeak in protest of the movement to create alerting sounds from within the room. And down below, the small alleyway was currently clear of civilians. At the end of the alley where it dumped out into the road through town, there were people who passed by every so often, but this little lane clearly did not receive regular traffic. Jordasche glanced back over her shoulder to see if she'd warranted the attention of a guard and seeing none, she took her chance.

The queen was agile as she scaled down the building and dropped to the dirt road in her boots, quickly scanning around. She glanced up from where she came, glad she'd shut the window apart from leaving a bit of space in case she'd take that way back up. She didn't want to linger here, though, so she skipped through the alleys a couple of ways over and exited out into the road, looking around in awe. The guards remained at the door to the inn so she knew her absence hadn't been noticed yet. She'd take this time to just walk around and explore what the town had to offer.

Felis · Feb 21, 2019

Anselm nodded through the queen's remarks and instructions, while he tried to gauge the distances and travel times in his head. To get to the destroyed village would take them from morning until fairly late afternoon, that much he knew from the tour plans. The noble's castles were even a bit closer, but it meant straying off their original route. Even without figuring the time consumption of the detour out, however, it was clear that avoiding the local nobles was still the fastest way, as either of the lords would certainly insist in keeping them for several days to showcase their hospitality.

"Yes, that is an even better approach, Your Highness," Anselm finally replied. "I'll have them gather information here and consult you again once the situation becomes clearer." With that, he took his leave and went to relay the new directives to the scouts. He still decided to have one head out of town to head to the burnt-down village and ask around there as well - while the circumstances there should be mostly the same as the towns were only a bit more than half a day's ride apart when traveling fast (that is to say, without the encumbering convoy), it wouldn't hurt, either.

Still, even in this village, it took quite a good amount of time to find out anything useful. The most helpful (and forthcoming) informants were other travelers, of which there wasn't too great a number, and so the first day passed without sufficient findings to determine whether the road was safe enough to camp out or not. By the late afternoon of the second day, Anselm began to take the lack of reported trouble as a sign that things were alright, and when the scout returning from the remainders of the next village painted a similar picture, Anselm considered the matter as settled as it would get within a week.

Thus, around sunset, he made his way to Queen Jordasche's room once more. There wasn't much left to discuss - if she hadn't changed her mind about being alright with making camp on the road, they just needed to pack up and leave in the morning. Anselm knocked, waited for a few seconds, and entered - to find the room empty. He sighed, then left again and proceeded to look in other places at the inn where the queen might have gone: the common room, the taproom, even the kitchen, the stables and other bedrooms of their entourage - all to no avail. Nobody he asked had seen her for a while, either.

In the hope that they had just missed each other, Anselm returned to the queen's own room, but there was still no sign of her whereabouts. Or was there? The window stood wide open, leaving the curtains to sway softly in the evening breeze. With a small sound of dismay, he hurried over and looked down. Of course, Queen Jordasche was nowhere to be seen anymore, Anselm's motion had been merely out of reflex. No rooms above overgrown walls ever again, he vowed to himself, as he turned back and started pacing through the room as he considered his options.

Either the queen had been kidnapped or snuck out on her own. Anselm didn't consider the first option very likely, considering how safe the country was in general, but it was still a worrying thought at the back of his head. In any case, however, he couldn't do much unless Jordasche hadn't been gone for long enough to leave town already. He'd just have to assume she hadn't. Still, Anselm didn't want to publicly announce the queen had gone missing, either. If she had just gone for a little walk and they had sent out search parties throughout the entire region... He still had to deploy people to look for her inconspicuously, though.

Luckily, the head of the guards was not interested in why exactly they were suddenly supposed to look at the face of every person trying to leave the village, or have some of their men look throughout the settlement for a "young traveler with dark hair, probably long, and light brown eyes" - not exactly the most accurate description Anselm had ever given - and send any person they found matching those traits to the inn.

"Are we looking for a man or a woman?" the middle-aged man simply asked, and absentmindedly, Anselm replied, "Either," trying to think of a story to tell to the half-dozen false positives he would have to usher out of the common room later. It was the most accurate answer he could give at the moment, though - he knew the queen had brought some pairs of pants among her clothing, thanks to helping pack and unpack several times, but he had no idea if she was wearing them right now. In the dark, most people would likely judge a person's gender by their clothing. With a sigh, the guard shrugged and went to work.

With this taken care of, Anselm found Annalis and instructed her to search for Jordasche at the inn - maybe, just maybe, the queen had simply found some little-used room where nobody had looked for her yet - and then headed out into the town himself. Combing through the village methodically was all well and good, but it took decidedly too long. If the guards couldn't find the queen until morning, Anselm would have to make the disappearance public and send messengers asking the local lords for help, as the small convoy the queen's entourage traveled as meant they lacked the manpower for larger searches.

So Anselm would have to make an educated guess at the places likely to be visited by a runaway queen and seek them out specifically. Under the assumption Jordasche just wanted to explore a little on her own, there were several possibilities coming to Anselm's mind. The market would already be closed by now, but there were a few charming taverns and quaint inns strewn throughout the town. He knew one of them to have some musicians playing tonight, so that was as good a starting point as any. The guards would be looking through these places eventually, though, so he'd try the main square after that - it might still be lit up nicely in honor of the previous festivities for the queen's visit, making it a nice sightseeing spot as well.

Gemma Nye · Feb 27, 2019

She found the town to be quite charming, really. People seemed lively and happy and that was an observation Jordasche felt glad to make. This particular town seemed a bit bigger than the ones they'd passed or stayed the night in on their tours, thus far. It really didn't matter, though. If she hadn't gotten out tonight, it's not like she'd even be able to experience it like this. Traveling with an entourage made it hard to be a tourist. Every town had something they wanted to impress the queen with and the things she truly found interesting don't meld well with the company she's forced to keep.

Jordasche released a heavy sigh as she came to a fork in the road. Her hands reached to tighten the band that bound her hair in a ponytail that spanned down her back under the cloak. A stray hat lay unattended having fallen off someone's person and doomed to blow about in the winds caught her attention and she picked it up and gave it a light brush. After clearing the dust and rubble, Jordasche eyed the leather and checked it for stitching too loose to allow it to be worn and deemed it suitable so she placed it upon her head after pushing the cloak's hood back. She figured this to be slightly less conspicuous as a disguise since she would look generally less suspicious than some hooded weirdo walking about. Her legs carried her further away from town's center, thinking she knew Anselm would of course personally search for her and while she didn't intend on getting truly lost or running away, he'd have the highest chance of purposefully running into her. A soldier might accidentally stumble upon her, though she's sure Anselm will have instructed them specifically, so she couldn't allow herself to run into them.

Going this way lead to more taverns along the lit roads, music bursting from them. She selected a promising looking one set in the middle of this social district and opened the door to enter the establishment. As if on cue, everyone within the brick building turned to her and cheered a greeting. It nearly startled her so much she might have made a noise that would surely give her away, but in just that quick moment, they all returned to their conversations and entertainment. A bit confused, Jordasche made her way to the bar and hopped up onto the farthest seat away from anyone out of four empty ones available at the end of the bar. No one really paid much attention to her which didn't help her confusion, but the door opened again and the tavern boomed with its greeting again. She figured that's just how they did things there.

"Drink. Do you want a drink?" A voice was pulling her from her thoughts as she got settled in the seat. Jordasche blinked and looked away from the door, having made sure the newcomer wasn't Anselm or a soldier. The bartender had been asking her if she wanted anything.
"Sorry, sorry." She pondered a moment for she did want a drink. "You know. Whatever you suggest for someone in the midst of the longest and hardest last couple of months of their lives."

Jordasche was as surprised with her answer as the bartender was, but the redhead nodded with a chuckle and set about making something to help soothe what ailed her. She kept the hat and cloak on as other men still had theirs worn, thought most of them weren't wearing both. The bartender returned with a fragrant drink in a metal cup, a large smile on his face. "It's one of our house specials," he explained with a gesture to the cup. "Not the prettiest looking thing, but my father's special recipe. Never fails me." His large hands picked up a small hand towel to wipe away any excess moisture that had gotten on to his hands while preparing her drink. Jordasche inspected the contents of the cup for a moment before holding the rim to her lips and tipping the vessel to pour some of the liquid into her mouth. The sweet fluid was refreshing and light and quite frankly, she enjoyed the taste.

"Whoa, there," he chuckled, holding his hands up. "Better slow down. It's not a drink really recommended to be ordered more than once. Look like you have a lot on your mind. Anything you want to talk about?"
Jordasche shook her head. "Not particularly," she answered honestly. "Aren't exactly problems I can explain apart from I could use a break from them. Lots of adjustments happening."
"Not fond of change, man?"
"Not really," she responded, ignoring being successfully misgendered. It's not as though she cared, even if she was a queen. Jordasche never fit in with the other children of nobles growing up so her demeanor didn't reflect the most poised individual if she didn't actively pay attention to how she was perceived. But in her natural state, her voice, not particularly high for a woman's and dressed as such, if she kept things simple and calm, she'd remain void of suspicion.
"I understand that. I have to get back to work, but enjoy. Take it easy." He gave a friendly smile before returning to his job.

Jordasche took another couple of long sips from the cup and after setting the cup down maybe three or four times since beginning to drink from it, she felt a strange warm feeling surrounding her. While royal functions required drinking wine since she was a child, she had just come of drinking age and otherwise as was tradition until being old enough, even the royal family didn't allow her liquor in adolescence. So the notion of drunkenness was fairly foreign to Jordasche. The same could be said regarding tolerance for alcohol as well considering she'd developed virtually none in her years. Needless to say, she figured she'd follow the bartender's advice and pace herself before her state forced her to draw attention to herself. She enjoyed the music playing while she sipped, her eyes continuously moving to the door every time the establishment lifted in greeting to make sure she didn't see a royal soldier or Anselm.

Until she saw Anselm.

Jordasche froze at the bar, knowing the swell of people truly obstructed her from view. Her eyes peered into the cup that was nearly empty now. She attempted to figure how she'd sneak out when there was only one entrance. To her luck, a group of patrons entered, forcing Anselm and the two soldiers that accompanied him to come further into the tavern in order to let them through. In the excitement of the loud greeting, Jordasche took her chance to scoot from her bar seat after leaving money for the bartender. She slipped between a rather large and burly group of men toasting, trying to stay out of view of Anselm.

She eyed the attendant from between arm gaps of hands held on hips or just around shoulders while she worked her way along the edge of the tavern. Anselm raked the establishment, stopping several people as he did so. Some were women, but some were also men. He was smarter than she thought. Luck was with her again because just as Anselm neared the portion of the bar in direct view of where she'd been sitting at the bar, a few more men joined the evening's festivities and seemed to be meeting a group that had already arrived. The groups joined together right in the main area of the tavern's dining room, obstructing the view to the door which Jordasche had slipped out of the moment a wall of men rose that cleared her height by at least three heads each.

The evening sun had turned to night and the soldiers' presence had grown. How long had she been in the bar?! She remembered how she'd gotten there and in truth, Jordasche hadn't wandered all that far from the inn in which the caravan had been staying. Moreso, she'd stuck to being off the beaten path while she wandered. She recognized the roads as she stepped lively along them, only getting turned around once trying to find an alleyway that would lead her to the one that ran along the inn.

She found it eventually, though, her mind how quite hazed over. She had drank most of what the bartender gave her and she was beginning to think he'd been right. Jordasche arrived not long after the sun truly began to set and only the faintest of light remained in the sky now. Certainly, such a strong alcoholic drink should be affecting the petite woman as it was. Her cheeks were reddened and her movements took a little more thought to execute than normal. But when she caught a break after hiding at the end of the alley until the soldiers rounds passed, timing how long she had before they'd come again, she took it. Jordasche nearly tripped as she sprinted to the inn's wall, clambering a bit clumsily up the network of vines to reach the window to her room. She pulled herself over the sill, grunting as she nearly fell completely through the portal on her head.

Albeit drunk, Jordasche still managed to get herself standing and thinking again. Someone will probably be by to check on her, so she first went to the room's door, listening, and not hearing a guard or anyone about in the hallway. She carefully opened the door to peek out in to the corridor to confirm that it was empty though she could hear the people just downstairs in the inn's lobby. Jordasche closed the door again and began to strip herself naked. First, she needed to stow away this outfit. It reeked of outside and probably alcohol since she'd been at a bar, so she made sure to get it off her body and get it put away before Anselm or anyone saw her in it. There was a small basin of water for washing up and Jordasche noted it had been changed recently. She went over and began splashing water on her face to clean it off before kind of wiping some handfuls of water over her hair to get any smells lingering in there, too. She'd give herself a light spray of perfume before wrapping in a robe as she looked into the mirror.

Her full lips seemed to be stuck in a drunkenly amused smile, having successfully snuck out and snuck back in. Well, they knew she was gone but it's not like she got caught. Blush wouldn't be needed for she provided her own natural flush across her lightly freckled features. Jordasche didn't know what the bartender put in that drink, but she knew this to be maybe the freest she ever felt in her life. Regret barely registered to her in this state and she would be sure to have worried Anselm to death by this point, but the queen honestly needed the break.

As she flopped onto the bed in the room, she let her eyes close, trying to get herself as relaxed as possible. Commotion downstairs increased and she assumed search parties returned with no good news on any of the prospects turning out to be the missing queen. She figured she should go downstairs and maybe pretend she'd just wedged herself away somewhere in the building but her head swum wildly even whilst she laid down. Her stomach didn't feel queasy but the drunken feeling definitely left her feeling heavy and clumsy. She heard boots on the stairs and figured someone to be coming for a round or to check the room again. She remained laid down where she was to seem like she'd been resting though the reality was she didn't feel quite ready to stand yet.

Felis · Mar 10, 2019

Even though this was a considerably small town, looking for one single person in the evening bustle was worse than trying to locate a needle in a haystack, Anselm came to realize. At least haystack and needle didn't move of their own accord. The fact that the soldiers attracted attention - even without full armor, they still wore recognizable uniforms - didn't help, either.

Even without pretending that he was looking for a cousin whose (current) gender he wasn't even aware of, the whole situation was awkward enough, but the next best pretext (and only other pretext) that came into Anselm's mind mind was not that much better, and resulted in exchanges similar to the following.

"Excuse me," Anselm would approach anyone who sported long brown hair and appeared to be around the queen's age, then, after getting a good look at their face to confirm it wasn't the Jordasche, sigh disappointedly. "Oh, I'm sorry to bother you. Someone dropped this-" he would hold up his own silken handkerchief, "- in the market earlier today and I was looking to return it." Anselm would proceed to describe Jordasche in more detail, and would get anything from a non-committal shrug to amusement over not just keeping the trinket to some semi-helpful tips who to try next out of it.

After a young merchant claimed Anselm's handkerchief for her own, he was out of excuses to talk to people, out people to talk to at the tavern and out of patience for the whole method. Frustrated and with the unpleasant feeling that came with making a fool of one's self for a dozen conversations on end in his stomach, Anselm headed back out to the main street, leaving the guards behind. To be fair, it was almost a miracle nobody had pretended to be the handkerchief's owner sooner - evidently, the people in this part of the land were generally fairly honest. Anselm would put down the cost of his lost cloth down on the official travel expenses, though - and the costs of anything else needed to end this whole incident.

Aside from his sour mood over a certain traveler's greed and his own monetary loss, Anselm was growing more worried about Jordasche by the minute, however. Of course, he knew that the queen could most likely stroll back to the castle on foot, even without concealing her identity, and not come to any harm in the process. He knew that even if she had truly disappeared for good, he wouldn't be held responsible for it - he was an attendant, not a guard. Queen Jordasche could order to let her walk around without any escort, if it came down to it, after all, and he would have to comply. He still felt responsible, though, and with a jolt Anselm realized that even in that hypothetical situation, he would still send someone to look after Jordasche from some distance, or even go himself. He stopped in his tracks. That wasn't a good sign, was it?

Thinking of circumventing orders he didn't like wasn't exactly underscoring his loyalty. A servant's duty was first and foremost to do what he was told, not do what he thought was best. Anselm had even caught himself omitting Jordasche's title in his thoughts on several occasion as though he were dealing with a rebellious child rather than the monarch of his country. He shook his head. Was he growing so attached to the queen on a personal level that it affected his ability to perform properly as an attendant? He had never encountered that problem when he had served King Rubius. Then again, King Rubius hadn't snuck away at night, either, at least not during Anselm's time as his retainer.

For a few more hours after dark, Anselm moved through the more crowded places of the town before he had to admit that this was as much progress as he would make this night. On his own, he wouldn't find the queen like this unless it was by luck. The most promising course of action was to return to the inn and see if anyone else had made a discovery or at least found a hint to Queen Jordasche's whereabouts.

The first thing Anselm did upon arriving at their lodgings was to send the number of people called in by the guards home - apologies for the inconvenience, but the issue has been solved already, sorry to have wasted your time. He would not sacrifice another his spare handkerchief as well to lessen the moderate disgruntlement of the affected locals and travelers. However, as nobody downstairs had any further news, Anselm resigned to scaling the stairs to the queen's room anyway, for want of anything productive to do. Maybe he had overlooked some hint the last time, he argued, though he didn't have much hope this would prove true.

Needless to say, he could not have been more surprised when he pulled the door open to find Queen Jordasche stretched out on her bed, apparently asleep or at least dozing. Anselm blinked once, twice, and when he was still seeing the same scene after he had opened and closed his eyes for the third time, he wordlessly shut the door and headed downstairs to call off the search.

The truth was, even though it was a good thing to notify the guards that they didn't have to wander through town anymore sooner rather than later, that Anselm wouldn't have known how to respond to the queen's reappearance. He had thought through various ways to handle encountering her somewhere in the village without making her position obvious, and several options of what to do in case they couldn't find her at all, but apparently, Queen Jordasche wanted to pretend this episode had never happened.

More than the actual escapade itself, this attitude actually managed to rouse Anselm's usually contained temper. For a moment, he considered going along with the charade, but preponing the next morning's departure to two hours before dawn without letting her know. Of course, such a thing was impossible because of the delays the search had caused, aside from being excessively petty. No. Anselm had been worried sick and was still irritated to say the least, but that didn't mean he should consider enacting some sort of childish retribution. Making the handkerchief story part of the official ledgers was already more than enough in that regard.

Still, he couldn't let the whole story slide by completely and risk a repeat of this incident, either. The queen disappearing without notice meant that everything was put on hold in order to search for her - which was a moderate inconvenience during a tour such as this one, but if it happened back in the capital, possibly with important guests present at the castle, it could become a minor catastrophe. Queen Jordasche and Anselm would have to talk this out, whether she wanted to or not.

"Your Highness," Anselm said when he reentered the queen's room, "please explain." His voice was maybe a tad forceful to be polite, but aside from that, he did a good job sounding calm and collected, he found. After a moment, he added with a hint of disapproval, "Also, please allow me to announce that we move on tomorrow an hour after dawn. Due to certain circumstances, the departure has been pushed back by an hour to accommodate preparations."

Gemma Nye · Apr 25, 2019

Somehow in such a short time, Jordasche's mind had floated many miles away to the rolling hills and mountainside of the kingdom she called home. She reminisced on the smell of the wind and then thought about how the air might smell if she were to go to her favorite spot this time of year. Jordasche didn't even hear Anselm open the door to the suite, close it and then return some time entirely later to enter it fully. She only recalled the initial footsteps of someone possibly approaching her room and that was it.

Anselm's voice brought Jordasche's eyes open slowly, her vision spinning much less after exerting herself to get back up through the window. The drinking had flushed her cheeks, but she also was quite warm so she figured that would trigger a diagnosis before drinking would. She swung her legs over the bed as he spoke, remaining about as attentive as she could drunkenly be. Jordasche honestly felt surprised that for her first time being drunk, she didn't feel any differently. Well, not that much differently. As she looked over at her attendant whilst he broke the news to her that they'd be leaving even earlier than dawn the next morning and that elicited a groan from the queen. Her hands at some point had drawn up to the clothes she wore to disrobe them from her, the top having returned to its originally intended fashion after coming untucked from her pants while she climbed up the window. With the shirt she wore freeing her even further, she then released a sigh from the relief of the cool air.

Jordasche, even if it hadn't already been discussed between her and Anselm, paid even less mind to disrobing while in his presence. Normally, it just couldn't be helped at times, but she'd attempt to cover her breasts if Anna was getting her dressed for the day while Anselm proceeded with the morning debriefing. The queen exercised no precaution, though she'd donned a camisole for the day as an undergarment which she now walked around freely in toward the closet where she had a peek after setting the shirt aside. "I am fine with an early departure," she started to respond but collected herself for a brief moment, suddenly paranoid she didn't quite sound like herself. Her head turned so that she could look back over her shoulder at him with a smile, giving him one of the freest expressions perhaps to date in their relationship. Of course, Jordasche had smiled at Anselm before, but this time, the grin took a shape of its own and the smile poured from her heart. "I've actually already packed up since I've been so incredibly bored here. You might have things to prepare, but it certainly won't be me." She paused again, figuring it best to keep her speaking to a minimum. Anselm knew her well enough to probably be able to detect something off about her if he couldn't smell the alcohol to explain the loosened demeanor of the queen.

Her eyes remained on him for a moment before she turned fully to look at him. Still unabashed by how little she wore on her top half, her breasts and nipples honestly very easy to make out from under her camisole though she was arguably covered. Again, it's not as if Anselm hadn't seen her fully naked or at least hasn't almost seen her naked multiple times. She felt comfortable around her attendant because she had to be. The alcohol certainly didn't help keep her from delving a bit deeper into this comfort than might be technically appropriate. Jordasche had already snuck out though and rejected many of the more traditionally feminine clothing Anna had initially packed. As she'd stated to her and Anselm before, Jordasche didn't intend on hiding behind lavish dresses in diplomacy because she couldn't see what designer she wore next or how much cleavage she could and couldn't have when out and about. She'd like to be viewed same as anyone else, and any other noble or commonfolk otherwise reserved the freedom to dress as they pleased. So if she wanted to hike it out around the expanses of the kingdom in a full corseted gown, then that's what she would do. But the point of this tour was to get a closer look at her lands and become more acquainted with them. Anselm believed in Jordasche, or at least she thought so, and she believed that all of those things were just distractions and aren't that indicative of true leadership.

Jordasche didn't realize she'd lost herself to thought as her eyes stared blankly at Anselm. Her long eyelashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks as she blinked, attempting to recollect any of what Anselm might have said apart from notifying her of a later departure. She found it difficult for her to corral her thoughts because she went from trying to remember what he said to just looking at him. Maybe it might be biology, apart from various members of the Council, screaming at her to mate because she couldn't be sure why all of a sudden, her stomach knotted and she found it difficult to settle the racing of her heart. Except that her heart wasn't racing? Her drunken thoughts carried her a myriad of places, though she determined her heart hadn't increased in pace, at all, but throbbed after having skipped a beat. Apart from social status driving perhaps the largest wedge between them, Anselm, regardless of if his occupation reflected his status, his job was to manage the heir to the throne. And the job had to be completed to succession.

She shook her head in an attempt to collect herself once more. Viewing Anselm a romantic partner confused Jordasche more than anything seeing she hardly dated since her brother was the heir by birthright until his death. There were no suitors introduced well before the realistic concept of marrying like the prince had. Jordasche remembered the play dates evolving to hanging out during diplomatic meetings which possibly turned into officially courting in teenage years until a proper pairing for marriage could be arranged. It's possible Jordasche could have married whomever she want if her brother had not passed. Anselm, included.

She shook her head again, this time a little more vigorously. Drinking brought her mind to be largely unfocused and her hormones distracted her wildly. Was she getting drunker? She did feel like her body could float off at any point. He'd asked her to explain. But she didn't really have an excuse.

"Explain what, Anselm?" She'd play simple because she felt pretty stupid at the moment because her brain wasn't capable of formulating a more direct lie or purposefully lead him astray. Subterfuge might have been an option for the queen but she couldn't manage the brain capacity it would required to keep anything straight. Though, no, she didn't want to directly admit she sneaked out the window and had a bit too much to drink. "I don't know what you would like. Shall I coop up in my room all day while we are stationed? Or is this you offering as my attendant to be my personal entertainment?" Her voice was playful but there was truth to the manner. Anyone, royalty or not, would want some room to stretch their legs. Jordasche knew Anselm would worry, though, so she didn't pause as long this time before continuing her words in an attempt to assuage him further. "Are you upset because plans are pushed back? I guess I didn't mean to lose track of time as long as I did and that is a security risk. But you have to know I'm not helpless, Anselm. I can defend myself fairly well. And if someone happened to catch me truly off guard or best me, I know to make as much commotion as possible. I'd leave whatever trail I could to lead you to me."

Her words brought her up short again and she had to keep herself from shaking her head. Jordasche continued to repeat herself that it was just the alcohol, but her stomach had begun to knot again. Only this time, she felt much more uncomfortable like she could hurl at any moment. Jordasche swallowed reflexively as she tried to stave off the reflex to turn green and the feeling subsided. She figured probably some hydration would be apt for herself.

"I'm sorry you couldn't find me around here," her apology was sincere though she did purposefully utilize her words to remain as vague as possible regarding her infraction. Sure, she could admit to it all, but at the end of the day, no one saw her climb out or back in and no one recognized her while she was out. Not that she'd let it get down to that since that wasn't how she operated at all though the point still stood. If people were to rumor around town, there's no hard-lined evidence she was even truly missing so it was all hearsay. "Is there anything I can help with?" She inquired as she turned on him with her eyes that held no true color except for endless pots of smooth honey that flickered with green. "I've been sitting around for days now. Same with pretty much everyone. I'm sure all departing arrangements can even begin in advance. I'm not exactly sure, now that I consider it, to hold off preparations for departure until the night before. At least all of them." With the increased amount she was talking and moving about, her perfume along with the alcohol began to mingle in the air around her. She'd taken her hair down and the waist length tresses cascaded down her petite and feminine form.

Felis · May 7, 2019

"Wonderful," Anselm said half to himself, unable to keep his voice completely free of any snarkiness. "If not for a certain incident, I might be done with packing up, as well. Alas for that." Then he sighed and called himself to order. Jordasche was still his queen. No matter how upset he was, how much trouble this evening had been and- hold on.

Wasn't the queen a little too unsteady on her feet to blame it only on the late hour? Now that he was paying attention, Anselm could see something was definitely off. It was only a small thing, but there was a slight teeter whenever she made a more sudden movement like standing up or turning around; and weren't her words blurring a little around the consonant-heavy words?

It couldn't be, was Anselm's first reaction, but if he was honest with himself, he knew very well that it was. Queen Jordasche was drunk. Not that drunk, but enough for him to notice when he paid attention.

Anselm's exasperation vanished, replaced by a mix of amusement and pity for the possible hangover the queen was about to experience the next morning. Whatever she had got her hands on had to have been pretty strong, or a lot - she was used to drinking some wine at least, after all. He returned Queen Jordasche's bright smile, then had to bite on his lip to keep from bursting out with laughter.

For some reason, the notion of the queen sneaking out of the inn at night just to go drinking was funny to him. Maybe because it was so... normal, something that happened all the time among commoners. In fact, it reminded him of the time his mother had caught one of the kitchen maids sneaking into the butlery at night and opening one of the wine barrels there. His mother had been furious when she told the story at a family dinner, but his sister's husband Daud had laughed and said maybe he should have married that kitchen maid instead of Gwanda. Then Daud had had to take off running, Anselm's infuriated sister on his heels.

Anselm shook himself slightly. What was he thinking? Jordasche was the queen, little escapades or no. Comparing her to kitchen maids was not what he should be doing, no matter in what context.

He crossed the room to pour Jordasche a cup of water as she began to rattle off a mix of complaints and justifications - it would be good for her to drink something that wasn't alcohol. And it was something to do, to keep his mind on something productive.

Queen Jordasche had a point though. Leaving her at the inn with nothing to do was not exactly a display of good care, and Anselm felt more than a bit ashamed at failing to realize it on his own. Actually, while he had never arranged for additional entertainment under King Rubius, Anselm wasn't so sure anymore whether the king had not complained because he had been content staying in a room with nothing to do but read or whether he had rather just been kind enough to ignore Anselm's shortcomings.

Maybe the problem was that Anselm regarded people as their office first and foremost, and often forgot everyone was simply a person, as well. He defined himself over his work, too, after all. He was the servant, and the queen was the queen; they each had their roles to fill and that was that - at least unless circumstances like these made Anselm aware of the Jordasche behind the title.

Now that he thought about it, the queen was about his age, wasn't she? Younger even, if he remembered correctly, and she had just accepted the crown recently. Well, Anselm wasn't exactly acting his age (when had he ever?), but young people were usually all about freedom and experiencing everything the world had to offer, weren't they? And Jordasche's free spirit was one of the qualities he valued about her, so he couldn't exactly go ahead and be cross about her adventurous side creating some additional work for him.

Right.

"I am sorry as well, Your Highness," Anselm replied as he turned around. "It is a grievous oversight on my part that I left you here without any form of recreational activities. I honestly didn't believe we would have to stay here for so long, but that is no excuse. As for me as entertainment-" Why was he suddenly flustered to notice the queen was wearing hardly more than her undergarments? He would have thought he was over that - it wasn't the first time they were together in a room like this. Still, his ears starting burning, and Anselm cleared his throat to cover his momentary confusion. "As for that, I'm afraid I'm as bland and uninspiring company as ever."

No, he was not going to have the conversation go down that route. It would be embarrassing enough to discuss whether he could sing or juggle, but he wasn't risking touching on other forms of entertainment. Gods, no.

He set down the cup on the side table. "What I meant to say is, that - if I may be frank here - it is a problem if you disappear without notice, Your Highness. I simply cannot sit idly and wait whether you are out on a stroll or whether somebody sends a letter of ransom. Of course, I'm aware of the odds of each option, but I simply have to act like there is an emergency. It isn't really a matter of the duration of your absence, either." He sighed. "I may not be your knight, but I still feel responsible for you. See here," Anselm dropped most of his formal speech, "I understand you aren't a careless, helpless girl who has no sense of self-preservation or direction whatsoever. But you're still the queen, and if you go missing, I need to send out people to look for you. Yes, people expect of you to keep to your room, but honestly, if you order me to let you stroll around town, I can't very well disobey that, either, can I? You're the queen, Your Highness - I'm here to obey your orders. Of course, I'd feel better if you didn't go alone-" he found himself staring into her eyes and glanced away, "-just in case, but the main point is, someone simply has to know that you're gone - and when to expect you back, for that matter - so that we don't send search parties every time you feel like taking a walk incognito. At least leave a note, please."

Now that Anselm had spoken his mind, he was feeling self-conscious in a different way than before. He was really doing his best to leave a bad impression today, wasn't he? What an attendant he was! Neglecting his queen's needs, causing her to run off, then being unable to find her, and upon her return, nagging her, and finally encouraging her to break protocol. Not to mention his thoughts were straying into places they shouldn't. This was not Anselm's day, not in the slightest.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I probably shouldn't be making presumptions about your whereabouts tonight, Your Highness. I appreciate your offer for help, but preparations should be completed quickly enough even as is. I do not have that many items to pack, and most other tasks left only involve readying the carriages in the morning. If I may make that suggestion, the best thing for you to do at the moment, though boring, might be to go to bed and rest for tomorrow's travel." Anselm picked up the cup of water again, crossed the room and handed it to Jordasche, acutely aware of each instance where their fingers brushed. Why was he still like this? He direly needed to take his leave, sort out his thoughts and regain his composure.

"Also, I'd advise you to keep yourself hydrated - I've heard you can develop awful headaches otherwise." He showed her a small smile that hopefully conveyed exactly what he intended - possibly bumpy roads and hangovers aren't a good mix. "If you're feeling unwell, call for me or Annalis. The schedule is already in disarray since the fire in that village broke out, so don't hesitate to put your health first."

Once Anselm had left the room, he heaved a deep sigh. What would his father think if he could see him blundering his way through today's events? Gwilem had been the spitting image of a perfect attendant - anticipating every demand just before it could be uttered, helpful but unobtrusive with his counsel, and moving figurative mountains with ease when needed. In contrast to that, Anselm now found himself speculating how he would feel about the queen if she were a commoner. What useless thoughts! He might as well wonder how he would feel about the moon falling from the sky.

It was best that he went back to thinking of the two of them as their roles, and their roles alone. He could easily consider including more diversions for the queen part of his duties, and soon his peculiar emotions would be ancient history. Of course, he'd still be fond of Queen Jordasche, but in a perfectly appropriate, professional way that didn't leave a small pang whenever he wondered whom or when she would eventually marry.

Despite this, when Anselm was directing the last packages onto the waiting carriages early the next morning, he found his thoughts going back to the queen's broad smile and honey-coloured eyes, and how lucky he was to share this much time with her.

Gemma Nye · Jul 2, 2019

Jordasche would like to say she remembered what happened after Anselm left. Or rather, remember without extreme duress and concentration to attempt to pull hazy bits of details together. Thoughts of Anselm left her warm and fuzzy as they often did. She'd probably irritated him by sneaking out, and this didn't stop the sleepy smirk that spread on her face now, but they'd enjoyed one another's company. The weeks spent so far on the tour allowed them to grow closer. Jordasche couldn't say she was more happy for the matter because she's definitely glad she understood where Anselm came from. Had the tour not been nearly compulsory of new royalty, she doubted the pair would have had the opportunity to be put in a position where their friendship could flourish. She'd assume him to be a walking statue probably to this day without understanding how he was raised and the pride he took in his work.

Work.

She'd been in bed, dozing in and out of groggy consciousness, but now she suddenly bolted upright in the bed. Regardless of how extremely bad of a choice that was for her, Jordasche forced herself to stay sitting although her hand had adopted the task of rubbing her temples. Headache would not have been the word she would use to describe the throbbing. Perhaps a head rush from moving too fast. Her eyes peeked open and glanced around the still dark room. There was no trace of time but a check out of the window confirmed dawn had not quite broken yet. Night still ruled the sky and fresh, crisp air poured in through the open window. The morning provided a refreshing environment to wake up in considering Jordasche lacked confidence she'd sobered up completely. Her hair draped over her shoulders in a near tangled mess and any clothing she'd gone to bed with somehow made it on to the floor. Sleepiness weighed her every motion down considerably. Just in her attempt to move her body from the bed and begin to process what she had to do next seemed extremely more difficult than she remembered. What was in that drink?

Drunk or not, Jordasche needed to tend to her responsibilities as a queen. Anselm said things often that she agreed with even if they were sometimes it was constructive criticism. Not that she could particularly recollect much of anything at the moment due to how quickly her head seemed to spin about. The vertigo proved to be so severe for a moment that Jordasche had to brace herself on the square wooden table by the bed. She took deep and calming breaths to slow her heart rate down so she could work on collecting herself. Her movements would have to be fairly slow and deliberate for the time being so she didn't overexert herself. That would only worry Anselm further than she then her actions threatened to hinder the entire operation and put the tour behind. The thought alone of how crushed Anselm would be made Jordasche's heart sink promptly down to the wood plank floor. Antics aside, her intent never would be to keep Anselm from success or to hurt him. It hadn't occurred to her perhaps more heavily than now how important he was to her.

In truth, the queen, even as only a princess, was not known to be a socialite. Not that she'd be aware of too many rumors prior to her new position, but she expected to be labeled as a recluse. Over the various years, Jordasche had perhaps a handful of friends she'd been known to interact with. A couple of possibly true friends married off and the others were after her brother. She recollected maybe the first time this happened to be the only time she took it personally. From that point, Jordasche kept everyone at an arm's length. Royalty or not, her hazel eyes were striking and probing. She saw right through facades whether or not she knew their intent or validity. Negative energy affected her in ways that made her want to separate herself from nobility. Perhaps inappropriate the idea, but Jordasche would much rather marry Anselm than have to go down the noble line. The prospects lined up for her were mostly after the crown if not sent for it at the bequest of their parent. She'd known plenty of smiles stretched so impossibly wide as several nobles attempted to persuade her into allowing their son to court her with poorly strung silver-tongued exaggerations to make the prospect seem greater or more interesting than he already was. Jordasche didn't want to be queen. She wanted to be normal. Her duties were thrust upon her after not one, but two tragedies. Responsibility held her firm in her resolve. Just because this wasn't something she exactly wanted didn't mean she wouldn't rise to claim her birthright. But she never could shrug off the thoughts of living a simple and modest life. The princess turned queen knew all to well that money couldn't buy her happiness despite being vastly grateful to have had more money than she'll ever need.

At some point in her thoughts, she'd slowly made her way over toward the closet where some garments remained hung. Jordasche hadn't lied when she informed Anselm that she was practically ready for departure. In the days prior, she made sure to collect clothes she knew she wasn't going to wear as well as stowing away anything already worn into her luggage to be carried off. As a matter of fact, one case was nearly ready to go once whatever small bit of room it still held in its leatherbound compartment got filled and it could be closed with a slide of the gold latches. She picked her clothes strewn on the floor and neatly placed them in the remaining space before shutting the bag and sliding it a few feet across the floor. One bag done and only two left. Technically, Anna had outdone herself with the queen's wardrobe and most of it wasn't even unloaded. One suitcase mostly held her undergarments or slips to go beneath her dresses with another that had everyday clothes. Apart from that, the dresses were usually stowed in the closet of the accommodations, too, to keep them out of the elements. Once Jordasche sluggishly completed packing the bags after taking out an outfit to wear for today, she let out a grand and heavy sigh.

The rushing in her head had subsided but she noticed much more clearly where her motor functions were still severely lacking. Being drunk was fun, admittedly, even though Anselm got upset with her. She couldn't say the same about the morning after. She heard horror tales of pervasive sickness from drinking in excess before and considered herself lucky. At best, her head ached dully, the light now coming from the window was a bit much and she did feel a bit queasy. She attributed the uneasiness in her stomach to be from it being empty. While the alcohol certainly provided no help at all for the matter, she found herself to be quite famished at this point. Another F word she could consider herself to be was fatigued.

A large yawn forced its way through her and she stretched her body out through it. Her balance had her legs wobbly though, causing her to stumble a bit across the floor until she regained her footing. Jordasche caught her reflection in the mirror where she stopped and took a moment to judge her appearance. Messy was an understatement. She wouldn't have a chance at getting as ready as Anna would prefer, but the maid would have to just stuff it for a day. The fact Jordasche was up right now couldn't be anything short of a miracle. Her hands grabbed at the clothes she'd set out and she began to dress herself. The task proved quite difficult since her coordination suffered drastically from the lingering effects on the alcohol. She wondered for a short moment how she managed to get her clothes off in the night. How had she not woken up entangled in them after falling asleep after failing to manage disrobing?

When she checked her reflection again, she nodded slightly. The dress she picked was simple and wouldn't be cumbersome to travel in. Perhaps a bit fancier than what was scheduled for the day, but Jordasche figured something needed to help her from looking like a total zombie. While looking at herself in the mirror, she took some time to run a brush through her hair in an attempt to tame the beast atop her head. The tresses appeared to cooperate, somewhat, and she was quickly able to fashion an updo clipped with a hairpiece from her mother. She allowed the bottom portion of her hair to hang, though it curled much more than usual. Because of the all over disarray, the curls didn't seem out of place for the style. A little make up procured from her purse gave her lips a soft red-pink hue and some life to her bountiful eyelashes. She would even take a moment to rinse her mouth with an herbal wash she used to freshen her breath. Her overall goal was to disguise as much fatigue and wear as possible from her night out. Night out might even be strongly worded as Jordasche didn't recall admitting she left the inn during her apology to Anselm. That said, most of their conversation was completely fuzzy for her and that recollection joined maybe two or three more. With one last check in the mirror, Jordasche smoothed the skirt of her rich, dark purple dress. She made sure the corset was even on her before setting the preliminary tie. Anna would be around later to tighten Jordasche in only before going out to meetings.

Her feet found her way into the raised platform of a pair of black leather boots. She laced herself up sloppily, barely completing the action due to the fact she could not muster the precision it called for. Jordasche grabbed her personal bag of belongings and strung it over her shoulder before heading to the door with a deep breath in and even longer and weighted one out. Her hand wrapped around the handle and opened it slowly, nodding to the guard standing a little ways down the hall but in sight of the doorway. Upon her exit from the room, the guard sprung into action, nearly forcing the queen aside if she had not moved first to anticipate his entrance into the suite. She assumed as she watched for a moment while he moved bags toward the door that he was tasked with getting her luggage when she was ready. Jordasche didn't favor being bulldozed, and of course a guard would never, so she descended down the stairs waiting mere paces away into the lobby where she was greeted by several voices at once.

"G-good morning," she managed to respond just barely over a whisper. Her eyes still weren't cooperating properly so Jordasche failed to recognize most anyone in the room. She decided to keep her greeting short and give a light nod before striding casually toward the exit to stand in the entryway of the inn. The day's light had come further upon her and it penetrated her irises painfully at first. She resisted the urge to shield her eyes but she did flinch before relaxing. They took a short moment to adjust enough for her to walk about but she soon saw Anselm just down the way orchestrating the caravan's departure. She couldn't help but smile seeing him in his element despite their exchange last night.

Jordasche stopped short, really at arm's length from him if not just out of reach, eyes glued to the back of his hair. Their exchange? Did they exchange? What did they talk about? She hadn't necessarily considered whether or not Anselm would quiz her over what happened 'while she was out' or when he'd found her in her room. The bar she remembers clearly up to a certain point seeing she left to evade Anselm before she was really feeling the drink. She figured it likely to have been drunker when he came to her room as opposed to when he almost found her at the bar. Her heart pounded in her chest, much harder than she ever knew it to ever in her life. Anxiety plagued her thoughts as they whirred, trying to recall the fuzzy details. The lack of clarity worried Jordasche to no end that there was something she said or did in their moment together that might have upset him. Or hurt him. She'd woken up with her clothes thrown about so she hoped she was wearing something when he came in. That begged the question as to how the clothes got off of her which her bleak memory didn't offer much help determining. She wanted to say it's because she got hot while she was sleeping because she truly did sometimes. The bar felt stuffy to her, even, once she'd started drinking.

By the time Anselm happened to turn around, Jordasche still stood there behind him, frozen in place with a mixture of emotions pulling her face into anxious expressions. His movement grabbed her attention and suddenly her eyes were on his and she couldn't conceive of anything to say. Not even 'good morning' or 'hello' could be managed by her vocal chords. The worry paralyzed her so she couldn't even smile and wave and take refuge in the carriage while he continued to get things ready. She had no words or will to move. Her eyes widened with raw fear as his gaze focused on her in that moment. She couldn't hide the deep flushing of her cheeks as she failed to corral her thoughts into any form of cohesion. Jordasche would have to hope he didn't see her drunk and naked or otherwise coerced into her bed while she was drunk. She'd have a fit.

She cleared her throat as soon as she could manage, sure Anselm would notice the obvious way she stared at him frozen in silence. How did he put up with her? "Good morning," she greeted, her feet finally cooperating and moving to the side so she could go around him to approach her carriage. Jordasche paused at the door to its interior, one foot up on the steps set up to give her a boost. "Everything is packed and arranged upstairs. Luggage and garments should be arriving just behind me. I hope I'm not too late." She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, unable to resist the urge to tease him.

If she were honest, it wasn't a good day for the two if it didn't begin with him pulling her zombie corpse out of bed or her messing with him in some form.

Felis · Jul 14, 2019

It was more of a coincidence that Anselm thought to turn around when Queen Jordasche was standing behind him, only a few feet away. He certainly hadn't heard her footsteps over the busy atmosphere of people carrying the remaining crates and bags, heading to their respective carriages or just chatting with one another, and her soft greeting before that even less.

When Anselm's and Jordasche's eyes met, he was first and foremost surprised to see her there already. It would still take a good quarter hour before they could actually depart, and Anselm would have bet money on having to head up to Jordasche's room to wake her up even then. The queen seemed even more startled, though, as her eyes flew open wide and her face took on a dark red hue.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Anselm returned the greeting, raising his eyebrows. Why was Jordasche so flustered? Her emotional state aside, however, the queen looked like last night's events still got to her. Although the bags and circles below her eyes weren't too prominent, she squeezed them almost shut against the soft morning sun. That aside, Anselm had to admit Jordasche seemed to be holding up very well. Maybe that also spoke to the quality of liquor the taverns here served.

"No, quite the opposite," he began, then broke off and shook his head with a small, defeated smile when Queen Jordasche stook out her tongue at him. For some reason, Anselm found himself struggling to pick up on her little jabs and sarcasm lately. He wasn't sure why that was - most of the time, he anticipated jokes or veiled meanings before they became blatantly obvious, at least.

True to Jordasche's word, her last bags arrived within the minute, and once they were stowed away, Anselm gave the signal for the caravan to depart. He hurried back to the queen's wagon before it started moving - while he didn't have a problem climbing onto the perch or hopping onto the footboard of a rolling carriage, opening the door one-handed while balancing on the moving vehicle was a different matter.

Inside, Anselm closed the curtains on the side where sunlight was streaming through the window, then leaned back and gave the queen opposite him a small nod. "Do speak up if you need a break or want to stretch your legs a little, Your Highness." Thanks to how far they were behind the original schedule due to the previous delays, a small stop here and there wouldn't make a big difference. Though he silently still itched to try and make up for the lost time, Anselm reined himself in after last night's events and didn't pursue the futile task.

The weather seemed to cooperate well enough, and the caravan made good progress. At one point, the sun disappeared behind a bank of low, grey clouds. Anselm eyed them suspiciously from the carriage's window - a thunderstorm was the last thing they needed if they were staying outside overnight - but a fresh breeze picked up around noon and the sky cleared up again.

In the early afternoon, they passed by the ruined village. It was a little ways off the main road, but even from the distance you could see that more than half the buildings were blackened and damaged or completely collapsed. A cart carrying timber rolled up the approach road, and if Anselm squinted, he could make out the tiny shapes of people moving busily around the burnt houses, showing that repairs were already in progress.

Despite their less homely accomodations for the night (though as far as tents go, the queen and her entourage were certainly equipped with the most comfortable ones), the next leg of the tour went by smoothly and uneventfully. The weather held up, the roads were clear and the feuding lords had picked up on their presence and been both prudent enough to let their conflict rest while the queen was passing through. On the evening of their second day on the road, the caravan crested a small hill and their next destination appeared before them.

Teniriver's walls were not only practical, but also pleasant to look at, the pale grey stones joining each other near seamlessly and glowing pink in the light of the setting sun. The crenelations and the archway leading into the city were adorned with geometric ornaments forming a simple, yet distinct pattern. The queen and her entourage would be staying at the mayor's mansion, which also served as the city hall and was affectionately called the Chateau by the locals. As the caravan drew closer, Anselm could see the name was fitting - with its multiple floors and spires, steeples and oriels jutting out in all conceivable manners and places, the building looked like Fedelmar Donla had commissioned a smaller, dainty, albeit slightly gaudy, hommage to the royal castle itself.

When they arrived, Anselm, who got off the carriage first to oversee the unpacking and accomodation process, was greeted by a greying, sour-faced man who introduced himself as Larwin, the head servant and "stand-in steward, advisor and whatever other position needs filling." Larwin kept making minimal bows towards the carriage as he spoke, regarding Anselm with a look that spoke volumes about what he thought of a male attendant travelling with the queen. Anselm felt his smile grow as frozen as the other man's, and both were glad when they had exchanged the information they needed and could go about their own businesses again.

The viscount asked Queen Jordasche to have dinner together with his family, however, and so the two retainers crossed paths yet again. Standing a few feet behind the queen's seat, Anselm tried to ignore the scowls and distract himself by listening to the conversation at the table. Viscount Donla was half tripping over himself in expressing his gratitude for the royal visit to his "humble town" while his wife Davney tried to cut in and tell Jordasche about Teniriver itself - the Theatre of Silence, the Scholar's District, the market, the master mason who had fashioned the Chateau and the ornamentations on the city walls.

The two younger Donla children were apparently not quite sure how to behave in such elevated company and mostly stayed silent throughout - while the girl, not much younger than Jordasche, was obviously excited to meet the queen and beamed at her across the table, her brother looked like he was terrified of making some mistake in protocol and embarrass himself and his family. Probably this was one of his first formal dinners, the boy couldn't be older than twelve years, and Teniriver, while a nice city, usually didn't see that many nobles or diplomats travelling through it.

In contrast, the eldest son - the viscount had introduced him as Wislaw - seemed to be fidgety for a different reason. He alternated between staring at his plate and casting glances at the queen, only for the tips of his ears to turn pink and him to quickly look away again. Several times he opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and just nodded instead.

Anselm noticed that Larwin had picked up on this, too, and now divided his glares between the two younger men equally. Even though both Wislaw's awkwardness and Larwin's chaperoning were growing quite comical if you observed long enough, Anselm couldn't find it in himself to be amused. Somehow, he felt the urge to both justify his presence to Larwin and join in glowering at the viscount's son, and it was bothering him. The Anselm who had left the castle some weeks ago would certainly at best have smirked slightly and then shrugged it off, wouldn't he? Why was he even - he could barely admit it to himself - jealous? As her retainer, Queen Jordasche was Anselm's world in a way it would never be for anybody else. That wouldn't change no matter what.

Gemma Nye · Aug 21, 2019

Jordasche felt rather surprised that Anselm didn’t ask her about last night. He’d been as pleasant to her as always, which made her wonder like many times before whether or not he even had bad days. His position demanded a lot out of him. Jordasche never saw him falter in his conviction and he executed every responsibility flawlessly. This very position could be what likely held him back from bringing it up. She’d pulled quite a stunt, allegedly, and he took it surprisingly, if not suspiciously well. Jordasche spent a good portion of the carriage ride unable to keep herself from looking at Anselm. He fell asleep at one point, she found upon waking up from her own doze. His peaceful face made her blush and she didn’t really know why.

She felt relieved she didn’t trouble him to the point he lost a lot of sleep over it. He napped leisurely now while her eyes, amber from whatever rays of the setting sun could permeate their way into the cabin through the curtains. His dark hair had grown some over the weeks, finding she preferred it about that length anyways on him. Jordasche admired the sleeping man momentarily with a smile as she moved the book she’d fallen asleep reading off of her lap. The large, brown, leatherbound book was tucked into her bag for keeping and the queen now leaned comfortably against the seat cushion. Having read through all the other books she’d brought with her twice, Jordasche had begun this last romance novel, too, for the second time.

If anything, all the time spent sitting gave her ample time to read though she greatly wished she had room for more books as opposed to all those outfits Annalis had packed for her to wear. But her eyes had grown tired and she fell asleep for a reason and as such, discontinued taking a moment to make sure Anselm was getting some rest to then continue her own.

The carriage pulling onto more uneven ground gradually lulled Jordasche awake. She groaned tiredly and stretched, really hoping they’d made it to the campsite. There was no sign of Anselm when she awoke and the curtains had been drawn fully with the approaching night now. Until, at least, the door opened a short moment later for Anselm to let her know they’d arrived at the grounds. Unloading would be simple considering only what was necessary for setting up camp would be unpacked from the various carriages. The queen took a moment to stretch a bit in the hidden walls of the carriage before slowly stepping out. Everything seemed to be moving in fast motion around Jordasche and she struggled to jump out of the way on various occasions. Or perhaps she was the one moving grudgingly slow. Her foggy brain surely took its time warming up, so only a few minutes later she'd found a spot off to the side for herself to perch upon, legs crossed with a book spread across her lap. She felt rather distracted though having broken from the groggy haze and couldn't really focus on the pages below her eyes. Jordasche looked up and around, her gaze even distant in thought.

After tonight, the caravan would be making its way to Teniriver. Jordasche's father had a small affinity for the area and enjoyed when he could visit. She honestly can’t say she remembered much of its aesthetic quality apart from its distinct heart of the town. Jordasche did tend to check out fairly quickly into one of King Rubius’s rants during dinners with the court. Apart from when there were nobles visiting or other social banquets and events, her father did not require her to attend. In good nature, she perhaps came to maybe a few other outings and felt largely uncomfortable since almost no one saw the princess. Her existence was shrouded in ignorance for a good while. Jordasche never minded her brother being the center of attention. To be crowned king, he was the one everybody wanted to see. Ever since his passing, her father required her to go to pretty much everything apart from what she got scheduled for solely. And in her parents’ passing, suddenly Jordasche became responsible for everything.

Of course, the queen’s grief brought the diplomacy to an utter standpoint. She never gave Anselm the credit he deserved for ultimately being the one to coax her from her chambers. Jordasche attended the emergency meeting with the Council and then failed to show for any session for several weeks. She locked herself in her room, awarding the worry of several of the castle’s officials when they got wind the queen had been often skipping meals. Naturally, she refused to even come to the door when they tried to persuade her out. Only Anna, sometimes, could garner Jordasche’s attention and she’d allow the maid to enter. Apart from general functions, Anna grew up with the queen and their close relationship felt more welcomed. But the maid did not succeed in getting Jordasche out much apart from a walk, usually at night, though she continued to visit to support the grieving member of the royal family.

It’s not like she intended on letting Anselm in but he’d undoubtedly heard her within her chamber near to the door. He came rather late to be visiting, but she had to level with his arguments. Not only could he currently hear her, but there was no one else around and as her attendant, there isn’t anything he could make her do. Jordasche and Anselm were able to relate and she took comfort in having someone close that didn’t make her feel so far. As to whether or not she fully believes she’s as capable as he claims her to be is still her argument, however.

Jordasche spent most of their time reading or simply lounging in a tree looking at the stars. She enjoyed the time that allowed her to get some fresh air and get away from all the hustle and bustle for a moment. Part of her wanted to go back to their camping site for the rest of her days. No, in fact, as Anna tugged again on the strings of the corset, all of Jordasche wished she could be anywhere but Teniriver. She grimaced in breathless silence as the head maid yanked the queen into whatever positions necessary to get the corset laced seamlessly. When the knot was tied, Jordasche still couldn't really breathe however relief in not being subject to the puppeteer was swift. Anna saved the worst dress for last seeing Teniriver had definitively been scheduled for the end of tour seeing the town would be the last stop on the way back in toward the castle. Jordasche's lack of excitement muted itself in blank expressions of indifference. The dress, too fancy for her liking, did have a pleasant, passionate, and rich purple hue that complimented her skin tone well only to be worn among company she already counted down the seconds until she'd be spared. Regardless of the exquisite embroidery that incorporated gold and pearls even along the length of her delicate sleeves and the breathtakingly feminine physique the bodice gave her, there were at least three other pairs of shorts and loose tops she'd rather be wearing, instead.

Upon arrival, Jordasche immediately developed a distaste for the head servant of the viscount. Larwin, if she recalled correctly with debatable care as to whether or not she was actually correct, gave an air Jordasche simply did not care for. The servant was exceedingly polite, for his demeanor, but the man seemed to rub the queen the wrong way with the glances she noticed him giving to Anselm. On several occasions, she noticed Larwin cast cold, disapproving, judgmental looks at her keeper and it riled the very hairs at the back of her neck. He had some nerve, considering it was no one's place ,let alone a servant not of her own court, to be so emboldened to express his distaste. Jordasche became relatively protective over Anselm before this tour and the weeks only served to bring them closer in understanding and friendship. Anselm's job was to tend to the queen's every need or see to it that it got met. In return, she felt it difficult not to extend her own form of service, which as it was, represented a portion of her platform for social reform. Unrelated to her closeness to Anselm, Jordasche felt that the classism that existed in the kingdom held her people back from truly advancing because of the ridiculous sense of entitlement that really just annoyed her. She couldn't care less that Anselm was her servant nor did she understand the mentality of him being lesser because of what he was. Of course, Larwin never uttered a word out of place and knew better than to attempt to usurp the queen even though he clearly didn't take to her handler.

Fedelmar Donla didn't impress Jordasche much, either, since the point of her tour had little to do with impressing the crown. Sure, in good faith, the kingdom's culture always suggested tremendous hospitality so she expected the welcome to be warm. She sort of wished the viscount might have seen to it to let the town speak for itself as opposed to conjuring a grandiose reception. She partially wondered if the move was to draw attention away from the area's issues and to attempt to hold her attention on the heart of the town. Suspicions aside, Jordasche kept her temper and expressions in check as Fedelmar knelt to kiss her hand as she entered into the grand hall, greeted by the high court of the town. A small tour was given of a portion of the tributary building while dinner preparations were finalized and the tables were set. The chateau lived up to her father's stories, Jordasche had to admit, but she generally felt tense having so many eyes on her. Responding to questions and greetings put the queen immediately into a flurry of anxiety although she remained composed and professional. Part of her shortcoming was her stubborn fixation on being herself even if she got crowned. Various teachings to prepare her for speaking, debate, finance, politics helped her hone in on her often flamboyant opinions of the nobles that surrounded the queen so she could perform her duties as she came to do. The conversation had a light and friendly tone to it, though Jordasche could use quite a bit of work on sounding more proper and formal, and she managed to hold her own throughout it. Of course relief would be an understatement when the procession led into the dining hall where the table had been set for dinner, several suit-clad servants on standby behind the ornate, oak chairs to serve its occupant once seated.

Eating allowed a bit more time for small talk, if any. Preoccupied with consuming the albeit delicious food, Jordasche took refuge in the break she got from having to talk to anyone. This lasted through the first course, but come the arrival of cups of soup, Fedelmar began to engage with the queen again despite Jordasche's urge to be invisible. She responded politely though each time he asked her various questions to prod more at the life of a royal as well as what the other cities had been like thus far. At no point did she deem her responses to be that particularly entertaining, but Fedelmar would erupt into laughter as though she'd told a grand joke. She thought, for a moment, if this would be the extent of the brown nosing or if she were in for something way worse from the noble party. It took excruciating effort just to keep herself from appearing as though she couldn't get home fast enough. Admittedly checking out from time to time during the conversation, her eyes aimlessly wandered every so often around the room and across the table. Her hazel orbs when scanning across the guests nearly always noticed Wislaw, the eldest, to be looking at her. Since she wasn't looking at anything in particular, the pair did meet glances a couple of times before Jordasche smiled blankly polite and continued to busy her mind with thoughts and daydreams to make the time pass by faster.

Dinner took an age and Jordasche felt like she aged from it. As soon as any semblance of court, be it noble or attending, Jordasche huffed, falling into one of the chairs in the room she were to stay in at the chateau for the night before continuing the envoy in the morning. "That was brutal. I can't wait to be done with this," she confessed to herself as she took down her hair while peering into the full length mirror leaning against the wall across from the plush chair. Relief was an understatement as the tresses loosened from its braided updo and fell freely down her shoulders and back. "I just hope I didn't space out too much."

Felis · Oct 23, 2019

After the formal dinner, Anselm stayed behind to help tidy the room and carry the plates to the kitchen. He would have made his way there eventually to eat regardless, but it couldn't hurt to make a good impression and preemtively discredit any rumours Larwin might come up with. Also, mingling with the Chateau's staff gave Anselm a chance to hear some local gossip. Even though he didn't actively participate in it much, listening in was an occupational habit, or almost necessity, and having rarely left the castle since becoming Jordasche's attendant, this was his first and last chance in the next months, he assumed.

Most of the names mentioned didn't ring a bell for Anselm since they were local minor nobles, and there wasn't much about the Donla family other than most everyone was convinced Wislaw had fallen for the queen. Well, even a blind man could have seen that, but judging from Jordasche's reactions during the meal, she wasn't very impressed. Anselm smiled to himself. It was only natural - Wislaw didn't know anything about Jordasche but her position and her parents' sudden demise. He hadn't been there when she had suffered through the worst times of grief. He hadn't seen her efforts to make the kingdom a better place for every single citizen despite the set ways of the council. He hadn't chased after her when she had snuck out in the middle of the night to go drinking. Under these circumstances, how could Wislaw Donla expect Jordasche to be moved by his blushing smiles?

As he set down the tray of used dishes he had been carrying and went to get his own dinner, Anselm tried to push the feeling aside that with that earlier sort of reasoning, he was a better match for the queen than this noble. But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that such a line of thinking wasn't going to work out, a part of it lingered. Anselm sighed. If Jordasche and Wislaw were to switch places, it might have been possible. Although rarely, there had been precedents of nobles marrying commoners. True, those were usually wealthy merchants or accomplished artists, but he wasn't exactly a beggar, either. The queen however... Especially now, with the passing of the late king and queen still recent, it would cause too big a turbulence. And that was assuming Jordasche even developed such emotions herself as well.

Anselm's thoughts were interrupted when one of the servants skipped up to him with a letter in hand. "Um, you must be Anselm, right?" the red-haired girl asked, then glanced over her shoulder as if expecting to see a ghost there - or probably just Larwin, Anselm figured. There was no sign of the elder attendant, though, and visibly relieved, she continued, "So-sorry for interrupting, um... My name is Rione, and the young lady Edita sent me to deliver this invitation to Her Highness, but, um- Well, first, you see I'm no good at protocol, and also, the letter is actually from the young lord, but he was too shy to send it himself - or so I hear... Anyway, that's why I thought it's best I bring it to you first, so I could tell you this, so h-here you go." Rione handed him the letter, and, before Anselm had a chance to object, dashed out of the room again.

Anselm found Jordasche in her room, lounging in a chair and generally looking even more tired than before dinner. He doubted the queen would be happy to receive a letter from Wislaw (or Edita, if Rione was just a bit overeager in her assumptions) right now, but nuisances had to be seen to lest they become even more troublesome.

"Your Highness, I was asked to deliver a letter to you," Anselm said as he crossed the room and passed the document to Jordasche. "It is from either Edita or Wislaw Donla - the messenger girl was to excited to tell and to shy to bring it herself." The sigh the queen gave when she was done reading told him almost as much about the contents as the actual letter, which Jordasche handed back to him.

"Your Highness,

I would like to hereby extend an invitation to join my family in watching a performance at the Theatre of Silence tomorrow. The theatre is one of the main cultural merits of our modest city and we would very much hope to be able to show Your Highness one of its best pantomime plays, "The Enchanted Flower".

I humbly ask that Your Highness or Your retainer inform us of Your decision by lunch so we can take care of the appropriate accomodations.

Respecfully,
Edita Donla

postscriptum: On a personal note, my brother Wislaw dearly hopes that Your Highness will attend - but please do not let him know I told you so!"

So Rione hadn't been completely wrong, after all. Anselm looked at Jordasche, though he already expected he knew what her answer would be - a begrudging yes. The good thing about a theatre performance, he supposed, was that neither the viscount nor his son would be able to talk during it, which might turn it into an enjoyable afternoon after all.

When the group consisting of the Donla family and their attendants (including Larwin and Rione) as well as Queen Jordasche and Anselm arrived at the Theatre of Silence the next day, Anselm only had a brief moment to admire its architecture. Where the city walls had a functional elegance and the Chateau was trying too hard to be an impression of the royal castle, here the masons had opted for a delicate, but unobtrusive style, with small flower tendrils that looked almost as if they had naturally sprouted from the stone.

The inside was just as splendidly decorated - mosaics and ornamental pillars made from different sorts of marble were the most prominent elements. Fedelmar Donla and his wife took the lead in walking to their seats, a special box on the second floor designed for important attendees. Edita hung back, trying to make small talk with Jordasche, and Wislaw did the same, though he was visibly jittery and only spoke up once for every three or four times his sister did. Every now and then, his hand would fly to his chest, as if touching a good luck charm.

"The story itself is perhaps not all that unusual," Edita was saying. "It comes down to a typical fairy tale - literally! A prince falls in love with a princess from the fairy kingdom, and to gain her affection, a wizard gives him an enchanted flower. A jonquil, I think. After some obstacles and trials, they eventually live happy ever after. It's the acting that really makes it special, Your Highness. There is no dialogue, and no music - but it's still conveyed as clearly as if they spelled it out."

"I hope you'll enjoy the play, Your Highness," Wislaw chimed in before Larwin, looking even sourer than usual, directed him to a seat that wasn't directly adjacent to the queen. Anselm took his place in the back row of the box with the other servants, suppressing a grin. Larwin was so easy to read. Rione sat down next to Anselm and began whispering about more gossip - apparently Wislaw had bought a "love talisman" that would make him more charming (if he had, it hadn't had much effect, though, Anselm found) and specifically requested this play. There were also a few rumours about Anselm and Jordasche themselves, though luckily the curtain rose before Anselm had to answer Rione's question of what his "real relationship" with the queen was.

His "real relationship" - as if there was any doubt. He was Jordasche's attendant. His job was to see to her needs, to make sure she was happy- Anselm realized he wasn't very good at lying to himself. "Happiness" certainly didn't factor into any official duties. He had pushed the thought that the type of connection he and Jordasche shared had changed over the course of their travels out of his mind, but he had to admit that it had changed. They were closer, in a way, and Anselm at least couldn't deny that his being concerned for the queen was no longer purely professional in nature.

He stared down at the stage. Edita hadn't been overstating the actors' and actresses' skills, but he could see where Rione's gossip had come from. The fairy princess was dressed in a purple gown not unlike the one Jordasche had worn at the dinner the day before, and the prince was wearing a costume in Donla colours. Anselm sighed quietly, then stood up and quietly excused himself, saying he had forgotten to relay some instructions to the team of servants preparing their departure.

In truth, he needed to make some preparations himself.

When Jordasche returned to her rooms, Anselm was waiting there, a small vase with a few white jonquils sitting on a side table. "They aren't enchanted, don't worry," he smiled, then turned serious again. "Your Highness, there is something I need to discuss with you before we return to the castle. When I first became your attendant, a number of people were worried about choosing a male attendant for the queen, but I believed I was professional enough to not let myself be distracted by any emotions that might arise."

Anselm paused. "I'm no longer certain if I was right. I must admit that I have grown to care for your more strongly than my position warrants, Your Highness. I'm not certain what sort of feelings these are, but when I look at you, I'm starting to see - pardon me - Jordasche the person before I see Jordasche the queen. I see someone dear to me, not only someone I respect for their position. My loyalty comes not from mere duty, but from a wish to keep you from harm and be by your side. And it is hard for me to see someone vying for your affection without understanding the person behind the title and crown.

"However, I'm aware that this can easily lead to complications for you, even if you were to fee-" He caught himself. "Because you have your position and the good of the kingdom to consider, Your Highness. It might be for the best to choose a different attendant once we return."

Gemma Nye · May 14, 2020

Jordasche took notice of the slight details imposed into the performance. The play choice, alone, piqued the queen's suspicions, but as time went on, she found it ridiculously obvious this was Wislaw trying to court her. This, of course, was not the first or only of Jordasche's suitors she took no interest in despite the fact the male happened to be one of the more sincerely expressive of his interest. In most cases the suitors tried to impress her with gifts and showcase what a 'great king' they could be. She had full say, however, in whoever she chose to be with and the right would remain with her alone. Jordasche would need someone who could be a great king and cared about their people, yes, but of utmost importance, that person needed to care about her, too. She could and would rule with no one by her side if that was what came to it which wasn't a notion that the Council received well.

In truth, Jordasche had wanted to leave as planned to get back to the kingdom so she accepted the invitation out of politeness. A slight naive hope would be added that Wislaw's shyness at dinner the night prior, but things were entirely too staged. The best way to Jordasche would be without all the frilly fuss when they courted her and to be straightforward about their affections. Immediately would never be a way to get close to her. Wislaw's forwardness without even getting to know Jordasche first coiled her. They had gone out of their way to invite her to this play about two people in love that could marry while actually seating a pair together that they wanted to marry. The arrangement made Jordasche feel largely uncomfortable. On top of that, there weren't any words or music so in a normal circumstance she wouldn't mind the quiet, the queen was surrounded by people in the theater.

During intermission, Jordasche cast her eyes over her shoulder to look at Anselm, a brief expression of confusion forming on her visage as she quickly scanned the row of seats. The theater never yielded much noise throughout the performance thus far due to there being no music or dialogue to fill that silence. She couldn't recall ever hearing Anselm get up. The play would resume and another glance back confirmed Anselm hadn't retained. Jordasche felt her heart sinking into her stomach. The queen was sat directly by Edita, however Wislaw Donla sat only a small divider aisle away from her. Without Anselm present, she'd be sure Edita would recommend Wislaw be a gentleman and escort the queen back to her accommodations.

The play ended and it relieved a portion of Jordasche's worries, knowing that there were no more activities to tie her to this town and she could be on her way back to the castle. Applause roared throughout the theater after the performance with the queen rising to her feet to make her way to the exit of the box, still no sight of Anselm.

"He left to make preparations," Edita's voice sounded behind Jordasche, the woman having caught up to the queen's stride down the venue corridor.
"I can assume as such. We didn't plan to linger long after the performance. I'm sure he wished to have things arranged for our departure."
"I figured you would not have the way memorized to your chambers here in the chateau, yet. Please allow my brother to escort you back," the woman said then leaned in a bit closer so that her following words could only be heard by Jordasche among the noise of shuffling feet and side conversations of others exiting the theater into the corridor. "He has been a fan of yours since we visited the castle a few holidays before."

Jordasche had remembered the Donla family, though not really this particular visit that she mentioned or Wislaw specifically. Great, this would be some infatuation deal. He'd met her once at a holiday at least four years ago. Jordasche hadn't appeared at the kingdom's winter holiday celebrations since her brother passed away. Wislaw and his family would have only been to see the late king and prince. Surely he didn't expect for her to have somehow been wooed in an exchange she took little part in. However, it would be impolite to refuse the request and as such, Anselm had not remained through the performance to see her back to her room. Jordasche would be sure that the attendant made note to servants before he left to make sure someone got appointed to escort her. The fact remained she much rather be attended by her attendant who she came to know, not strangers vying competitively for her attention even among the other conversations going on. They inquired if she liked the play. Did she enjoy Teniriver? Will she visit apart from the annual tour? Question upon question wound Jordasche into a tight knot until they'd exit the theater completely and people would peel off of them, Edita being the last with a quiet and playful adieu for the night as now it was just Wislaw and the queen walking along.

Most of the journey was excruciating. Just as Jordasche assumed, Wislaw knew nothing about her and therefore had nothing to talk about while the pair strolled through the quiet streets. The play's end had sunset approaching within a couple of hours and already the day's sky had begun to darken into deeper, richer hues. Wislaw's hands fiddled at his chest nervously and Jordasche saw him at times open his mouth to speak though it would clamp back shut in silence again. Lack of words would never be a quality the woman deemed annoying seeing she didn't have many, herself, and thus, his difficulty didn't put her off in this situation. Be it his thought or someone else's, they put on a grand display despite the new monarch having been a recluse prior. This man suddenly had affections for her he never voiced even in the years since they'd apparently met. It made her wonder what made him more spineless: the lack of creativity or depth in his approach or the inability to come up with his own ideas for wooing her.

"Do you go back today?" Wislaw finally answered, giving Jordasche a shy glance that would avert when her eyes met his.
"Yes, I do," Jordasche replied as they rounded the corner with the chateau in view. Carriages were already corralled along the side of the building in preparation for their departure, but she didn't see Anselm in the distance. Several eyes of wandering workers placed on the pair walking down the street and they began to clear out of the area, whispers already arising about Jordasche and Wislaw being sighted alone together.
"I can understand if duties will keep you too busy to visit. But may I visit you?" His voice was still just as shy, though it held hope in it.

Jordasche expected as much to be asked of her by Wislaw, but she couldn't agree to it even though she didn't have a direct reason why. Wislaw did not know her and while she could assume he intended on getting to know her, he exercised no free will of his own. His feelings would remain unrequited with Jordasche so long as he hid behind them and let others orchestrate his desires. Among other things, she simply did not return his feelings. He was not unattractive and came from a well-raised family. But Jordasche's searching eyes didn't seek Wislaw. As in gentleman fashion, Wislaw walked her dutifully not only to the chateau, but escorted her up to her room. He bowed deeply when they arrived, remaining bent as he spoke. "Thank you for visiting, Your Highness. Please take my extended gratitude from all of Teniriver. We are deeply humbled to be under your gracious rule." Wislaw straightened before giving another smaller bow and reaching for her hand in the movement. Jordasche allowed the customary gesture to take place and the male took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Safe travels, milady."

He disappeared down the hallway to descend down the stairs and out of view. Jordasche stood there for a moment and looked at her hand, wondering if she'd seen him blushing as he left. Her hand rested on the handle to the door and opened it, still looking at her hand while she entered. She stopped short after closing the door behind her and that hand flew to her chest, noticing Anselm in her room. Collecting herself from being startled, her eyes shifted to the vase on the table, recognizing the flowers in them. Jordasche's face twisted with confusion and she looked back to Anselm as he spoke.

Anselm wrenched Jordasche's heart right open. Her eyes closed, letting his words warm over her expression. Part of her felt herself drawing nearer to Anselm and the pair regularly talked with no topic in mind. Their time together didn't consist of only work and she'd gotten to know him personally. Fairly, she figured she would be the only one to consider their position altered by this realization of how she preferred Anselm over anyone else. It went deeper than intimacy with their lifelong bond forever holding them together regardless of who they decided to spend their lives with. Jordasche thought often, more so as time had gone on, about all the small things Anselm did for her. She noticed each and every detail that he poured over just to make sure that her journey was safe, comfortable and he even amended the schedule to accommodate more fun. His words about seeing her as a person didn't offend the queen in the slightest, the femme rather relieved to hear he thought that way. She'd been a person long before she was queen and only a few years prior, she didn't even have birthright to the crown on her head. An individual that Anselm noticed and respected.

He'd been there for her in moments where people bombarded her with questions, responsibilities and assumptions while she clearly grieved her parents' deaths. Anselm bothered her, at first, with his insistence, but he always made sure to bring a meal he personal saw to it that she ate. And she always admired watching him work, often not even reading while she sat in a tree nearby, just observing him from behind the pages.

"I did not think you would feel this way about me," Jordasche admitted as her cheeks had flushed a dark pink. Her stomach turned nervously, not exactly the best at expressing herself. She took a moment to go over to the table and lean over to look at the flowers and enjoying their beauty. "I realized that over the weeks, I'd grown to worry more and more about stupid, small things. I wondered if you actually got enough to eat at meals or if you left them early for preparations. If you consistently got enough rest. Then, when I noticed you'd gone from the play, I was sad that you wouldn't be able to walk me. Was this where you had gone?" Her last question ended with her fingers tenderly cupping the petals of one of the jonquils to admire. "Here I thought you were distancing yourself because of Wislaw."

Jordasche paused for a moment, considering Anselm's last statement. Her searching eyes earlier had sought him. She couldn't remember another male's face that she'd passed by even though she experienced plenty of interest. They'd glued to him weeks ago, at this point, only blinding out more of everything else around her. But she shared his worries for his sake rather than her own.

"Who I marry will be my decision," she said in a serious voice as she stood up straight, the queen coming to walk over to the attendant with her soft hazel eyes turned up to his gaze. "Is that what you want, Anselm? Do you feel you've run your course with me? I will not hold you here. I cannot exercise that type of absolution. None of my desires include you leaving because I care about you, too, Anselm." Her confession came out in a small voice and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Breathing still functioned properly but suddenly the air seemed to expand in her chest. "I respect your feelings and your decision, though. If you must leave me, then I understand, Anselm. I want you to be happy, too." She wanted to be happy with him but her cheeks burned entirely too brightly to ask it so instead she chewed on her lip sheepishly, her hands fiddling as she held them clasped together in front of her.

Felis · Jun 1, 2020

Jordasche, worrying about him? By all his rational mind told him, that shouldn't be. It wasn't... correct. Anselm was the queen's retainer, thus he should be the one worrying about her. It didn't make any sense the other way around. But... He could feel the tips of his ears growing hot, and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to brush some of it over his ears to hide them turning red.

Anselm had always taken it as a given that his own well-being mattered only insofar as he couldn't allow himself to become indisposed and unable to take care of Her Highness. And yet, Jordasche herself was the one concerned whether he was eating or resting enough. Hearing her say it, even just repeating the sentiment inside his mind made his heart jump.

"I'm sorry to have left without notice, Your Highness," Anselm said, fighting down a smile that was perfectly out of place during an apology. She cares. "All the more since..." she had missed him, but Anselm couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. What does that mean for us?

"Ahem- the young Lord Donla?" he changed the subject. "I assume you mean I wanted to give you the chance to speak to him privately? I'm... ashamed to say that was probably the last thing on my mind. Though I have to say," Anselm grinned, "I'm more surprised Larwin didn't stare the poor man to death for even trying to spend time alone with you."

He sighed and turned serious again. He couldn't dance around the heart of the matter forever.

"I... no. To be honest, I'm... confused. Even before I was appointed a retainer, I have been taught a relationship such as ours has no place for personal feelings. In a way, we aren't simply people - we each have our roles, our offices. In short, ideally I'd simply be a... dispassionate, supportive presence in your life, so that I do not detract any attention from your duties."

A king or queen were representatives of the whole realm, after all, whose responsibilities were greater than those of anyone else. Their decisions shaped the lives of thousands of people. Any distraction removed from their lives, thus, allowed them to use more of their attention for their actual tasks and was an asset for the whole kingdom.

"And now, I'm... decidedly not that sort of impersonal force," Anselm continued. "Consequently, by the principles I've come to follow..." He sighed. "I'm afraid to cause inconveniences for you, Your Highness. But if you ask me what my wishes are - they aren't to leave. This I can say with certainty. I want to be able to keep supporting you. I want to be close to you. I want to see you flourish and fulfill all the dreams you have for the kingdom, and for yourself."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps neither Jordasche nor Anselm were not simply their own persons, but perhaps they were not only their roles, either. The last weeks had shown him a new world outside the castle, outside his preconceptions, and awakened a part of him that said that perhaps then, they were free to care for another, too.

"If you'll have me, I will stay." Anselm opened his eyes and closed the distance between them, gently taking one of Jordasche's hands in his own. "I shall stand by your side for as long as you will it." He let go and took a step back, heart pounding. Had that been too forward? He hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat. "However, as I let myself get... side-tracked earlier," Anselm eyed the vase of jonquils, "I'm afraid I still have some preparations left to make for our departure. Please excuse me. I won't be long."

With a quick bow, he hurried outside to oversee the final tasks, heart still pounding. Part of him still cautioned that he ought to resign and leave the castle as soon as they returned, but he quieted that voice. Jordasche cared. For the moment, that alone made Anselm believe they'd find a way to work everything out.

***

Despite the somewhat awkward conversation before they set out, the rest of the journey back to the capital went smoothly. The daily routines of traveling provided both a reason to talk to each other, and not to talk to each other. Although neither of the two explicitly brought up their feelings on the way back, Anselm felt like something in their relationship had shifted.

Though whom was he kidding; even before the events in Teniriver their relationship had begun to evolve, hadn't it?

Getting back into everyday affairs proved busy enough at first that they didn't talk much about personal matters, either - correspondence of several weeks had piled up, after all. At the same time, Anselm couldn't help but feel the additional work wasn't just a matter of pending administrative tasks. The whole atmosphere of the castle had changed, and it was most notable during council meetings. The nobles had always used to bicker and complain, but recently, it felt like they had mostly come to a consensus among themselves and were taking out their needs for being contrary on the queen alone.

"Your Highness, while I appreciate your initiative, do you really believe it prudent to tackle an additional project so early in your rule?" Lord Deborgil would say, for example; backed up by Duke Amand implying how Jordasche might be better off leaving day-to-day matters to the council and looking for a suitable husband instead. Though it had been Lord Topez who had first brought up the topic, the strategist would now wave off the issue of marriage whenever it was brought up. In fact, Rogelio Topez seemed the only one to openly support the queen's motions lately.

It wasn't so much that any of the council members outright said no (except for Duchess Synemaer with a mention of the expenses, but that was to be expected), but whatever the queen would bring up, someone would find a reason why it couldn't be done. "They do have a point, Your Highness," Lord Exteberria would then nod gravely, and Lorentien Amand would find heaps of paperwork for Jordasche to complete before the others could be swayed.

This wasn't simply the nobles prodding the queen to see what sort of ruler she was, this was them trying out how far they could go and get away with it. That a number of the castle staff were all but tailing Anselm, trying to hear bits and pieces of gossip about the tour didn't make it any better. Something about the whole situation struck him as odd, and Anselm was sure Jordasche was noticing it, too.

"This can't go on, Your Highness," Anselm began the next time the two of them had some respite. "If the council keeps this up, even routine affairs are going to become difficult to get done. And to be frank, I feel like something is wrong. None of the council members were this implacable before." He sighed. "I'm sure you know that already, of course. I wish I could offer a solution to the problem, but..." Anselm shook his head. Was there even anything he could do to help? "Well, perhaps I could try to involve myself with the rumourmongers and see if I can't at least get some information out of them. Though I should say that sort of thing can easily backfire as well."

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