Chapter Notes:
Latin:
Nine = Novem
Chapter 8 - The Plot
As autumn turned to winter the weather grew ever colder and more unsettled.
Rose had seen her first snow fall which had delighted her to no end. A thick layer of snow had fallen over night and once Rose was all bundled up with a thick underskirt, long coat, scarf, gloves, and hat, she had ventured out. The snow was a lot wetter than she had imagined but she loved it. Better still was the snowball fight which broke out between the five friends.
That was their only chance for fun in the snow as the following day the weather turned blustery and wet and remained unsettled for a number of weeks.
When the long a-waited for break in the weather arrived, Rose decided to go riding. She had not been out in far too long and she missed it. The rush of the wind through her hair, the feel of power from the horse beneath her, and the freedom of giving the horse its head and letting it gallop across the fields.
She had Raffalo pull out her jade green riding habit and once ready she set off, with a bounce in her step despite the cold, for the stables.
The stables were in the eastern side of the place and over seen by a formidable man. The head groomsman, Captain Reynolds, was a gruff man, however, according to everyone he was remarkable with the horses, a real horse whisperer if the rumour mill was to be believed.
Rose arrived at the stables the smell of hay and horse reaching her before she entered. She perused the many stalls, with horses and ponies of all sizes and colours, for a horse to take out.
A young stable hand followed close behind her, a worried frown creasing his forehead. Rose was narrowing down her choice when a gruff call stopped her in her tracks. A tall man with salt and pepper hair and short beard marched towards her.
"What're you doing?"
Rose raised an eyebrow at his demanding tone.
"I am picking out a horse. What does it look like?"
"You'll do no such thing. Not without my say so."
Both of Rose's eyebrows raised up this time in amazed disbelief at his blatant disregard for propriety and rank. He seemed to realise his mistake because he added a forced "milady" after a tense pause.
After ascertaining Rose's skill and riding competence he picked out a mare for her to take out. Rose wanted to get the horse ready herself, but Reynolds flatly refused. Rose opened her mouth to argue with him that she maybe a Baroness, but she was well capable of brushing down and tacking up a horse when she was interrupted by Captain Jack Harkness.
"You will never win that argument, Baroness Tyler. Trust me."
Rose turned and threw him a look of chagrin, however, there was nothing in his face to suggest he was mocking her. On the contrary, he looked sincere. "Is that so, Captain Harkness?"
"Indeed, I have been having those arguments with Reynolds since I was a boy. I doubt even the King himself could win. Is that not right, Reynolds?"
"Hrumph!" was the only reply he received before Reynolds began barking orders at the stable hands.
"Forgive my intrusion, Baroness Tyler," Jack said and bowed.
"Not at all," Rose replied and bowed in return.
"I was just about to head out myself, would you like some company?"
Rose tried to hide her surprise at his offer. "Oh, I would not want to slow you down, Captain Harkness."
"Nonsense, I would not offer unless I meant it," Jack gave her a dashing smile.
Rose considered him for a few moments before at last replying, "Well if that is the case then I would be delighted."
"Excellent!" The Captain gave her another broad grin.
Jack went and mounted his horse and waited outside for Rose.
When she was mounted Jack brought his horse alongside her dancing mare, who was eager to be off after being in for so long because of the weather.
"Shall we go?"
The pair took their time warming the horses up around the paddock before setting off on the ride proper. They were accompanied by two stable hands, one male, one female, for propriety's sake.
The day was pleasant, and the sun was out with small gusts of wind that billowed out the skirt of Rose's riding habit and loosened tendrils of hair about her face.
She was deeply conscious of her companion as he rode beside her, letting his body roll easily with the surge of the powerful mount beneath him.
Jack stole his own admiring glance at his companion. She rode well, assured, elegant and in control.
They made their way down through the city, which was surprisingly busy with many of the citizens taking advantage of the fine weather, and out into the valley.
After some time riding, they stopped to rest the horses by a small lake beyond a grassy slope, dismounting and leaving their mounts to graze on the damp tuffs of grass by the water's edge. They strolled along the bank, the gentle warmth of the sun shining down on them keeping away the worst of the cold.
As they came across a small corpse of trees nestled next to one of the many small tributary streams that flowed into the Tempus river and Jack called a halt to their small party.
"This is a lovely spot to set up for lunch."
"Is this where you bring all the girls, Captain?" Rose said mischievously.
"But of course," Jack replied with equal gaiety.
From seemingly nowhere the stable hands produced a small basket of food and set up a modest picnic.
Loosening his jacket, the Captain placed a blanket on the ground and sat beneath the tree, leaning his back against the trunk, and draping one arm over his raising knee.
His relaxed manner and ease with which he joined in the laughter and light-hearted banter put Rose at her ease.
"When I was a young boy all the children of the court used to have a race to see who could climb this tree the fastest."
Rose looked up at the large tree with its many strong and sturdy limbs. "Oh, that would have been fun."
Jack laughed, "Indeed it was, fun and dangerous."
"Ah," Rose scoffed, "If the branches were as strong in your day-"
"My day!" Jack gasped a hand over his heart.
"Yes, your day! If they were as sturdy now as they were the then there would have been little danger of the branches breaking."
"You speak with the voice of experience," Jack teased.
"Because I am," Rose countered.
"Nonsense," Jack said teased, taking on a nasally, snobbish voice, "Young ladies of repute do not go around climbing trees!"
"And what may I ask, is so very wrong with girls climbing trees?" Rose remarked with mock indignation, laughter lighting up her eyes. "I will have you know that as a girl I climbed some very impressive trees."
"And fell out of several, I'll wager."
"I did too," she confessed, "and I had the bruises to prove it."
"That does not surprise me in the slightest."
"And are you telling me you never fell out of any trees as a child?"
"I never said that."
"But nor are you going to confirm it?"
"No."
"Have it your way, Captain. But your silence speaks for itself."
"Do not let it," the Captain said cheekily. Leaning towards Rose, he lowered his voice. "I am a man of many talents and you should not doubt me so."
"You are incorrigible," Rose chuckled.
"It is true," Jack sighed. "But a little incorrigibility makes life so much more fun! And happily, there is a bit in you too."
Rose laughed heartily. She had to admit to herself that she really did like Jack. She could see why he was a court favourite.
They finished their lunch and set off on the return journey which passed with the same easy flow of conversation and banter as before.
/#/
It was several days after her outing with the Captain that Rose had another encounter with Lady Cassandra. They greeted and parted each other with their now customary angry words and barbed comments, however, there was something about Lady Cassandra countenance, an increased smugness, that irked Rose.
It irked her enough to begin to think that all was not right, that maybe Lady Cassandra was involved in or planning something she should not be. It did not take Rose long to make a decision to find out if, and more likely what, Cassandra was up to.
Rose was not entirely sure what it was that made her suspicious, but there was just something off. Maybe it was Cassandra's sauntering walk in her red dress and purple flower, the knowing smile, or the smug glint in her eyes. Whatever it was, Lady Cassandra was up to no good and Rose was going to find out what it was.
Rose had kept an eye on her all day and now, with the light of the setting sun casting a yellow-orange glow over all it touched, Rose felt it was time. Time for what she did not know but something was going to happen, Rose just knew it and she was going to be there when it did.
Her inquisitive side, her tendency to wander off and go investigating, as Mickey had called it, had taken over. While Mickey had also said that it was a tendency that would one day get her into trouble, Rose hoped that that day had not come yet.
Staying as far back as she could, Rose shadowed Cassandra. The art of tailing someone did not appear to be a skill that Rose possessed and she received more than a few sceptical and disapproving looks from members of the court as she strove for a casual 'I'm not up to anything' look. Her lack of skill also resulted in a number of panicked moments where she lost sight of Cassandra and a one particularly heart stopping moment when Cassandra doubled back and almost spotted Rose. In that moment Rose was eternally grateful for the presence of so many tall stone statues around the castle and hoped that her breath could not be seen in the cold winter air.
With a thumping heart and sweating palms Rose crept through a side door and out into the heavily wooded section of the castle grounds, keeping Cassandra in view the whole time and being careful not to step on anything that would alert Cassandra to her presence. Prey and hunter made their way along the winding tree lined paths and at last they arrived at their destination. Cassandra continued on and Rose slipped into the cover of undergrowth which was mercifully evergreen and still had thick foliage.
A short and stout woman waited for Cassandra next to an old and dilapidated shed.
"Is the merchandise safe?" Cassandra enquired sharply as soon as she was next to the other woman.
"Yes, the flowers are secured," the other woman said.
"Shhh!" Cassandra hissed.
"What?" quizzed the woman with equal terseness.
"Keep your voice down."
"Oh, don't worry so much. Nobody's around."
Cassandra did not look pleased to be spoken to in such a manner, but she held her tongue.
"We shall need to distribute the new batch though," continued the woman.
"That will be acceptable, however, we will wait another couple of days before doing so. Jocrassa tells me one of the guards is getting suspicious."
"Do we need to worry?"
"No, he's taking care of it."
"Good."
"Ah, here are the others. Well met, Slitheens."
Rose's brow furrowed as she listened and watched. They seemed awfully protective and focused on those flowers, she thought. They all seemed to be wearing them too. What was that about? There was something suspicious about those flowers. But what did they mean?
With the addition of three more figures the group moved closer to the shed in a tight huddle and away from Rose.
Rose cursed as she was no longer able to make out what they were saying. With slow and careful steps Rose made her way to the side of the building. But her timing was all off because no sooner had she gotten herself into a comfortable spot then the clandestine meeting ended, and they moved off in their different directions. Rose realising that two of the Slitheen men were heading directly for her hiding place, scrabbled backward tripping over the ends of her dress and hit the ground with a loud 'umph'.
"What was that?" one of the Slitheen's asked sharply.
"What was what?"
"I heard sometin' from over there."
Rose fumbled to her feet, almost tripping again in her haste and dove into the undergrowth a few feet away, curling up into a small ball, trying to make herself as small as possible.
She could make out the feet and lower legs of the pair as they approached through the thinner branches at the bottom of the shrubs. She covered her mouth with her hand to quieten her breathing.
"I didn't hear anything. You sure you're hearing right? Ow! That hurt!"
With their minor scuffle over the men seemed to decide that there was nothing going on and so they continued on their way.
Rose breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they were at last out of sight. She clambered out of her hiding spot and made her way back to her rooms; she was so lost in her thoughts that she had no memory of actually getting there.
They were planning something. But what? Nothing good, that was for sure. Could they be plotting against the kingdom, against the King? She had to tell someone. Tell who, though? No one would believe her. She was just some Baroness from the countryside. It was her word against a Countess and the Slitheens. No one would believe her, even if it was the truth.
She dared not even tell her friends. What would they say? Would they laugh and call her mad or reluctantly believe her? What if she put them in danger? No, she could not tell even them.
Slumped on her couch, Rose bit her lower lip in a nervous gesture; her thoughts circling in a self-doubting spiral.
What she needed was proof, then she could tell someone. She could not go straight to the King, but maybe she could go to Jack. If she had the proof, he would listen to her. But how would she get the evidence? Cassandra's plan revolved around the flowers she wore. But what did those flowers mean? How did they fit into the whole plan?
"Are you well, milady?" Raffalo asked with concern, having just arrived.
Rose waved at her absentmindedly. "Fine. I am Fine."
"You sure?"
"Erm... Raffalo, you know a bit about flowers, do you not?"
"I know a little, milady. It's my cousin who's an expert. He runs his own business." The last past of her statement was said with some pride.
"His own business? Your family must be proud of him."
"Oh, they are. I used to have a book with me that details flower meanings as a child, but I lost it. But I'm sure if you send him a letter and some samples of the flowers that he would help."
"That would be acceptable to him?"
"Of course, I'm sure he would have no issue with that at all. I can send him a letter first if you want?"
"I would be very grateful."
With that sorted Rose turned her attention to the next problem. If she needed samples of the flowers that would mean she would be going back to the stash. It would be too difficult to get them during the day but if she when at night she would have a good chance of not being caught.
It was a few days before she had a chance to try and get the flowers. Once night fell, she put on a dark coloured work dress and tied her hair up to keep it out of her eyes.
To say that she was nervous was an understatement. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought that it might burst from her chest and her palms seemed to have grown permanently clammy.
Despite her anxiety she gathered her courage and made a slow and careful decent through the castle. She was extra wary of not being spotted, especially since she did not know everyone who was in league with Cassandra and she did not want Cassandra alerted. She made her way to the ground floor with little issue, using the servants' corridors and less used halls.
Her luck did not last, for when she reached the gardens there several large groups meandering about the place. Rose cursed the endless number balls and gatherings that took place in the palace even in mid-winter.
It took Rose what seemed like an eternity to make her way through the grounds – she had to go the long way around to avoid the crowds and even then, there were courtiers' tumbling into her path. In the end she was forced to clamber into the undergrowth which slowed down her progress even more, particularly given the uneven terrain and the myriad of overgrown plants and branches that she kept getting entangled in.
Once or twice she was forced to stop suddenly and crouch down to avoid being seen or heard.
At long last though the building came into sight and it was mercifully deserted.
Rose gave a quick prayer of thanks to the Goddesses. She hoisted open the door, wincing at the sound of the screeching hinges. She glanced around in worry, but no one appeared.
Slipping inside she paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Once she was confident that she would not collide with anything she crept along the edge of the walls and then over to the pile of boxes which stood in the centre.
Carefully opening each box in turn, she took two samples from each and carefully wrapped and pocketed them before making her way back to her rooms.
The journey back through the gardens was quicker this time and she spent less time fighting her way through the undergrowth.
Rose slipped back inside the castle and breathed a sigh of relief; she had the flowers and had not been spotted.
However, her relief was short lived as she rounded a corner on the first floor and came face to face with two patrolling guards.
The guards approached her; brows furrowed.
"Are you alright, milady?" one of the guards asked.
"Yes, thank you. I am quite well."
"It is quite late for a woman of your station to be out," a note of concern laced his voice.
"Oh, I eh... I know it is late, but I could not sleep and thought a brisk walk in the gardens to clear my head would do me some good."
"And has it?"
"What?"
"Has the walk done you any good?"
"Oh! Yes, yes it has."
There was an awkward pause before Rose broke the silence. "You know what? I am feeling quite tried." She gave a large yawn to prove her point. "I think I will head straight to my rooms and turn in for the night."
The two guards bowed. "Right you are, milady. Have a good night."
Rose nodded at them and moved off as quickly as she could without arousing any suspicion, the small bunch of flowers tucked safely under her coat.
/#/
The next day Raffalo showed her how to press and preserve the flowers for postage. Rose wrote her letter to Stewart, Raffalo's cousin, detailing everything she could, including the sequence that she had seen Lady Cassandra wearing the flowers in the hopes that that would help Stewart with their meaning.
The week of the Winter Festival arrived while they waited for a reply and Rose was glad of the distraction it brought with it.
The Festival was held for one-week mid-winter every two years. There streets were decorated in a myriad of candles and torches making the entire city twinkle and flicker, banners fluttering overhead, and elegant window displays in shops. Stalls were setup throughput the city selling all manner of winter goods, both practical, like tools and clothing, and novelty, like toys.
There were winter games like ice carving demonstrations, an ice fishing competition, and a snowball tournament held in the royal pastures. There was even a tobogganing race held on the mountain slopes to the west of the city. The tobogganing was a favourite of the city's children who flocked to the mountains daily and a small market had been setup there to cater for all the visitors. Every evening for the week there was music, food, treats and plenty of merrymaking.
They received the reply to Raffalo's request a week after the Festival, which considering the distance that it had to travel was record timing. Rose was very glad that she had spent the extra money on sending Raffalo's letter express.
Just as Raffalo had said Stewart had no problems helping them and Rose's letter and the flowers were sent that evening. After that there was nothing left to do except wait, which was not something Rose found very easy.
It was a further four weeks, winter turning to spring and the anniversary of Rose's arrival at court passing, before the reply arrived.
"Oh milady," Raffalo called excitedly one morning, "My cousin's reply just arrived."
"Thanks, Raff. I'll look at it in a moment," Rose called from her room and once dressed she went to open the letter with palpable excitement and trembling fingers.
"Dear Baroness Tyler,
I hope this letter finds you well. I have enclosed two separate sheets within, the first detailing the individual flower meaning and the second with, together with your sequence and data, a possible meaning and/or message.
I must advise you that the second sheet makes for unsettling reading.
Please pass on my best wishes to my cousin.
Yours Faithfully,
Stewart Crespal"
Rose was highly curious but now also somewhat worried. She opened the first page which read:
"Aster – Patience
Forsythia – Anticipation,
Oleander – Caution,
Monkshood – Beware; A Deadly Foe is Near,
Magnolia – Nobility,
Poppy – General – Eternal Sleep; Oblivion."
With furrowed brow Rose moved on to the second page with some trepidation.
"Below is my best estimation of the message being communicated with these flowers.
The aster looks as if it is intermediary flower, perhaps saying for them to 'lay low.'
The forsythia gives the impression that something will happen soon, possibly 'be ready.'
The oleander looks like it is indicating that something is or is about to happen and to be careful.
The monkshood appears to be some sort of warning, perhaps if someone is getting suspicious of them.
However, it is the magnolia and poppy which give me the most concern. When their meanings are combined, they seem to indicate the death of a noble person and the only one I can think of to warrant such secrecy and clandestine methods is the King.
Lady Tyler, I fear they mean to kill the King. Make haste and warn his Majesty of this threat.
May the Gods and Goddesses protect you and his Majesty.
Stewart Crespal
"Oh no," Rose gasped.
"What? What is it?" Raffalo asked, utterly perplexed.
"No," Rose groaned and looked up from the letter with an expression of fear and shock. "I have to find Captain Jack," she said and tore from the room; the letter clutched tightly in her right hand and bunches of her skirt in her other hand so she could run faster.
What a sight she must have be, she thought, as she flew down corridor after corridor making her way down to the ground floor, practically knocking people out of the way. The King would be in the Throne Room and the Captain would not be far from him.
She skidded to a halt outside the door, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. She pushed in the door and frantically scanned the surprisingly crowded room for Jack. There! She spied the back of his head and speedily treaded her way through the crowd, with many a harried 'excuse me' and 'pardon me.' over to the Captain.
"Captain, may I have a word?" Rose managed to huff out between hurried breaths.
"Huh? Oh, Lady Tyler," Jack turned and grinned once he saw who it was. "To what do I own this pleasure?" he smirked.
"Captain, if I could have a word. In private."
He frowned as he took in her haggard appearance - her flyaway hair, flushed cheeks, quick and strained breaths, and the tense look on her face.
"Yes, of course. We can talk through here," he gestured to a door on the left of the room and led the way to it with Rose following close on his heels.
The room was small and cramped with old disused furniture dominating the space.
Once he closed the door behind them, he turned to her, a serious and concerned expression on his face, "So Lady Rose, what is wrong?"
"It is eh, it is the King. He is in danger."
Jack's shock at her statement was clearly evident, whatever he had been expecting her to say, that the King was in danger was not one of them. He nodded for her to continue.
Rose took a deep, calming breath and told him the story - about the plot, how she had learned of it, how she had put all the pieces together and finally she showed him the letter. At first, he looked incredulous and disbelieving and nearly laughed when she struggled to say that they had been communicating using flowers. However, by the time she showed him the letter he had grown quiet and a grave look had drawn across his face with a tightness about his jaw.
Jack gazed down at the letter for some time before looking up from it and taking a deep breath of his own. There was a look in his eyes that Rose had never seen before. Gone was the normal happiness, the playfulness, and the flirtatious gleam; in its place was a cold steely glint that belied a hidden rage.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention; you have done the kingdom a great service."
His tone and manner held a finality, indicating that her part was done. Rose scrambled, "But Jack, I want to help."
Jack shook his head, "No, I will take it from here."
"But-" Rose tried to interject, however, Jack had already stridden to the door and called out, "Alfonso."
A young man with short brown hair barely older than Rose quickly appeared.
"Captain?" he said
"Find Ianto and gather the men."
"Sir?"
"We've got a situation; tell them to meet outside the Throne Room but not to go in until I get there. We must not panic the courtiers."
"Yes sir."
"Good lad," Jack clapped him on the shoulder before turning once more to Rose. He waited until Alfonso had closed the door before speaking. "I need you to stay out of this. "
"What? Why?" Rose questioned stubbornly.
"Rose, you may be a courtier, but these are serious accusations. You are only a Baroness and you are making allegations against higher ranking peers. Not only that, but your family name does not have much weight against the names of those you are implicating."
Frustration gnawed at Rose, "But it is the truth!"
"I know and I believe you," Jack said reassuringly placing a hand on her shoulder. "But others may not believe you. They may think that you are spreading rumours to advance your standing or to get revenge."
Rose was about to object to that as well, but he cut her off before she got a word out. "That is not what you are doing, I know. But it could be seen in such a light particularly by gossip scavenging courtiers. Just keep a low profile until this evening. I will speak to the King myself and tell him the truth but until then stay out of it. Alright?"
Rose huffed in vexation but relented, "I will."
"Good. Thank you, Rose, by bringing this to me you have saved the King's life. That is something that will not be forgotten."
He bowed to her, kissed her hand, and swiftly left the room.
Rose did as she was promised and stayed out of the way, however, she did not go far. She wanted to know what happened. As the hours slipped by with irritating slowness Rose began to worry that nothing would happen, that the King would not believe Jack, that he would not believe her.
But then the whispers started, of the King leaving the Throne Room early, cancelling appointments, of the increase d presence of guards, of the disappearance of many courtiers – they were there one minute and the next they were gone, always coinciding with an influx of soldiers. Something was going on the court concluded and they were desperate to find out what it was.
Men and women flitted from the gardens to the palace, from floor to floor, room to room, group to group, all whispering, all gossiping, all wondering.
There were only two people in the lower north salon who knew what was going on, Rose thought, herself and the woman she was now watching.
To everyone else she must look the same as ever, perhaps a little paler than usual but who wouldn't be faint with excitement with all this gossip and drama. Nevertheless, Rose saw the other signals – a tense jaw, the repeated clenching and unclenching of her hands, the stress induced flush of her cheeks. Oh yes, Lady Cassandra was well aware of the noose that was slowly tightening around her neck. And Rose could not be happier about it.
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting the doors to the room opened once more and a steward announced the King who entered the room, followed by Jack and a band of guards.
Rose glanced at Cassandra, who despite being on the far side of the room had spotted the King and his entourage as well; she had gone rigid with tension and was as white as fresh snow.
The King and his group moved through the crowd which parted quickly as if sensing the imminent drama.
They came to halt in front of Lady Cassandra.
Novem stared at her in silence for some minutes. His eyes were a warm blue, but they studied Cassandra without a hint of emotion, no compassion, distain, or condescension spoiled his visage. Only a brief flare of his nostrils indicated that he had any life at all.
It was a horribly awkward silence for everyone, except the King it appeared. He stared down at her with an impassive and neutral expression while she had no idea where to look. Her eyes darted everywhere except his face. After a torturous length of time, the King stepped away and Jack stepped forwards.
Jack's voice, with his western Gallifrey inflection, rumbled in his chest loud and clear for every courtier to hear.
"Lady Cassandra O'Brien you have been charged with conspiracy to kill the King. How do you plead?"
As one the courtiers drew breath, their eyes alight with dark mischievousness.
"Me?" Cassandra simpered. "How could I do such a thing? Why would I want to do it in the first place?"
The crowd remained deadly silent, not even a gasp escaped lest they miss something.
"Enough with the lies! We have proof and your co-conspirators!"
Cassandra began to splutter and shake. "I wouldn't! They made me!"
Two guards stepped forward and took her by the arms, "No! They made me! They forced me! I had no choice!"
The guards began to drag her away while she continued to lie and plead.
Novem turned and Rose suddenly found the King's eyes fixed on hers, clear and unnervingly blue.
"Baroness Rosabel Tyler, the crown thanks you for your loyalty."
He then turned and left the room leaving Rose to face the incessant and hawkish gaze of all the courtiers.
She went bright red.
Jack came to her rescue though and ushered her out the door after the King.
They were barely out the door when Rose heard the room erupt into conversation.
Rose trotted after Jack and soon found herself standing in the King's Throne Room, empty save for them, with the King's gaze unashamedly appraising her.
"So, Jack tells me you are the one to uncover all this," he said making his way over to sit on the throne.
"Yes, your Majesty. I did."
"Well I have heard Jack's version, now I want to hear your account."
Rose, somewhat uncertain, looked over at Jack who nodded encouragingly at her and she began her tale.
Novem leaned forward as she spoke, taking in every word she said.
"And the letter arrived this morning. Once I saw the meanings of the flowers and the fact that some of them were from Raxa-, Raxa-" Rose trailed off as she struggled to pronounce the name.
"Are you sure it was her," Novem said with a sarcastic tone to Jack. "She cannot even say Raxacoricofallapatorius."
"I can to!" she said indignantly. "Raxa...Raxa...Raxa...Raxacoricofallapatorius." She beamed when she finally managed to pronounce the word, "See?"
Jack laughed and even the King broke into a small smile.
Rose realised she very much liked his smile. It changed his whole face making him look younger, showing off his cheekbones creating a more striking and aristocratic face.
"Very well, very well. I will believe you," he sat back again and considered her. "So, this is how it happened?"
Rose nodded.
"Well, Baroness Rosabel Tyler as I said before the crown thanks you."
"It was nothing, your Majesty."
"You saved my life Lady Tyler, that is not nothing." His tone was stern, so stern that Rose looked up in surprise, which was a mistake because now she was trapped by his intense gaze.
"Such an act will have to be rewarded. What do you desire? Name it and it will be yours." After a brief paused and he added lightly, "Within reason mind."
"Nothing, your Majesty. I desire nothing." And it was true, in that moment there was nothing that she wanted that the King could give.
"Come now, there must be something."
Rose bit her lip and thought. Perhaps, perhaps there was something. "Money."
"Money?" Novem questioned, although he did not look surprised.
"Yes, to be sent back home to my mother. She will need it." The last part Rose said to herself and under her breath, but apparently it was not quiet enough because both the King and Jack gave small smiles. Rose found her cheeks getting uncomfortably warm again.
Noven looked up at her with a puzzled expression. "That is all, money for your mother. There is nothing else?"
"No. At least, nothing that you can give."
Novem gave her a knowing look and Rose found herself blushing.
"Very well, I will have the funds sent to your mother. She will receive them by week's end."
"Thank you, your Majesty."
Novem nodded and gave her a wave of dismissal.
She bowed and Jack flashed her a pleased smile as she turned to leave.
When the door closed behind her Rose felt the adrenaline of the day suddenly leave her and she felt exhausted, her knees almost buckling beneath her.
She made her way gingerly back to her rooms, avoiding the main thoroughfare. The King had outed her to half the court, and by now the whole court would have found out, and they would undoubtedly want to know every last detail. Being caught and cornered by gossip seeking courtiers was not something she wanted or needed, not now or ever.
Thankfully, she reached the sanctuary of her rooms without meeting anyone. She went straight to her bedroom and throw herself onto the bed, groaning out loud. What a day. What would the others say?
Rose groaned again. Oh Goddess, how was she going to explain it to Martha and the others.
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