Masquerade
AN: Am I on a loveless marriage kick, or what?
"Where have you been all this time?"
Alanna arched an eyebrow, unconcerned with the barely hidden annoyance in his voice. "Out."
"We have a meeting with the Carthaki ambassadors in half an hour!"
"Which is why I'm here now, as you'll well notice," she retorted, running a brush through her hair.
Jonathan took a breath to say more, but changed his mind. Instead, he bent down to put on his shoes so Alanna wouldn't see the expression on his face. Without another look at each other, they got ready and headed out of their rooms, making it to the royal chambers just in time.
They sat on their thrones, hands clasped, smiles plastered to their faces. All around them, courtiers swept into reverent bows and courtesies.
The queen – never Alanna, much less Lioness – lifted up a hand and waved elegantly, surprising even herself that she knew how. She put on her best diplomatic face and steeled herself for what was no doubt going to be another tedious day.
There was one place left for her to find comfort, even after a long day of unpleasant talks with stony ambassadors. Changing into something more comfortable, she got onto the practice courts and was glad to comply when Raoul offered a pratice duel. They were only halfway through it when Jonathan showed up, his expression evidently stormy; seeing the look on his face, Raoul bowed out of the duel and Alanna followed Jon back to their rooms.
"Goddess bless, Jonathan!" she yelled in frustration, slamming the door after her, not caring about the rumors that will no doubt spawn from it. "I was having a practice duel. What is the big fuss?"
"The big fuss, Alanna, is that there are Carthaki ambassadors roaming the palace grounds," Jonathan explained, and Alanna bristled at his patronizing tone. "The big fuss is what they'll think if they see Tortall's queen tumbling about the practice yards like some common squire!"
Alanna gasped in indignity but was kept from saying anything else by a knock on the door.
"Come in," she said, trying to regain her composure. Behind her, Jonathan did the same. A manservant entered the room and bowed.
"Is everything all right, your majesties?"
Alanna cursed him silently, wondering if being nosy was a job requirement for servants. "We're all right. The door's hinges were a little jammed, so my lord here must have used too much force." She smiled, hoping the servant hadn't seen her enter the room last, and in a rage to boot.
Evidently, he hadn't. "I'm terribly sorry, your majesty. I'll see to the hinges being fixed as soon as possible." He bowed himself out of the room.
Alanna turned to face Jonathan again, dropping all pretense of normalcy. "I suppose I can't even practice anymore without being, what is it, a common squire?"
"As queen, you have a duty to uphold an image," Jonathan threw back, glaring. "As unrealistic as it seems, I need you to start being what people expect you to be."
"Hypocrite." It was a pity, really. He was almost talking sense and she would have understood where he was coming from, if he hadn't been so harsh about it. As it was, his speech only sparked the stubborn side of her and made her even less open to reason.
"What did you call me?" His voice was dangerously quiet.
"It's true, isn't it?" she countered, knowing that she was sparking his anger and not caring at all. She was sick to the bones of this charade. "You've always done exactly what you wanted. Gods, even when you married me, you were thinking for yourself instead of for the good of this country. And now you turn around to lecture me about duty?" She knew she wasn't being exactly fair, but her anger and pride had gotten the better of her, once again.
A look of utter rage crossed his face, and for a split second Alanna feared she might have gone too far. However, instead of reacting angrily like Alanna expected him to, Jonathan sat down and buried his face in his hands.
"What happened to us, Alanna?" he whispered. "Why isn't this working? We were so much in love. What happened to that love?"
She felt her anger leave her in a second. It was rare for him to be so pained and weak like this, and it hurt her as much as it hurt him."I don't know." She mimicked him, burying her own face in her hands to hide the tears threatening to form. "Sometimes...maybe sometimes, love just isn't enough."
He knew she was right; as much as he hated to admit it, he knew in the bottom of his heart that they were never meant to be. But he knew also that nobody must know about this. He knew also that no matter how tired they were, they had to keep this up. They had to continue this masquerade.