"Alanna? Could I talk to you for a minute?"
The redhead agreed. In fact, she had some words of her own she'd like to share with the King.
"Uh, it's, you see... well, it's like-"
Alanna rolled her eyes, not bothering to wait for him to get to the point. "Jon, why are you cheating on Thayet? Who is it?"
"Who said I was cheating on Thayet?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Daine knows something about it, doesn't she? She bolted like a horse when it was mentioned earlier." She walked over to Jon's desk, and started rifling through the papers. She stopped at one, peered intently for a second, and then discarded it. "Come on, who is it?"
"What's that paper?"
"The letter to the Carthaki." She held it up. It was, very obviously, written in Tortallan. "I thought you might also have a picture of the idiot, but I was wrong. Is Daine in on your little joke?"
"Why are you getting at Daine?"
Alanna stopped, her mouth open to deliver a phrase that she had evidently thought better of. Or maybe she had just thought of who his "bit on the side" was. Or maybe she hadn't thought at all. "I'm not getting at-" Slowly, she looked at Jon. "At least tell me what she looks like."
His face lit up; she could see that he was thinking of something or someone he really cared about. "What who looks like?"
"Don't play me for a fool, Conté! If you don't enlighten me, I'll ask Daine- "
"No!" Wincing, he realised he'd spoken too soon, and too urgently. Daine would tell her instantly, and then tell Thayet, and then tell the whole court. Daine hated lying. Jonathon, who had grown up in a court, was used to it. He relied on it sometimes. He had to.
"No?" She smiled, like a lioness who had spied her prey. "She knows, doesn't she?"
Mithros, hadn't she guessed yet? Reluctantly, he admitted, "Yes."
Alanna watched Jon carefully. She knew him very well, probably better than anyone in the world. "I can't believe you fell for a bimbo-"
"She's not a bimbo!" he snarled, crossing his arms.
"Do you realise you've just proved to me who it is?"
He threw his hands in the air. "Look, I don't care what you think about me and Daine! I don't need your advice! What do you matter, anyway?"
She stepped back, hurt. "I thought I was your best friend. Obviously, I-"
"What kind of friend doesn't support decisions?"
"What kind of husband has an affair?" she snapped back. She was not going to let him get away with this.
"What about you? You were kissing George when we were together; you slept with Liam without having broken it off with George, and without having properly finished with me-"
His Champion's eyes flashed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise we were together when I was sixteen, BEFORE the war, before you even- I actually thought that saying, "I refuse to marry you," was a pretty proper ending. And as for Liam and George, what about all those court ladies? At least I told George!"
"Daine knows," he said flatly.
"It's pointless," she said, reluctantly dropping her voice to a reasonable level. "How long has it been going on?"
"Three months."
"You know it can't last," she reasoned.
"Why not? It might be able to."
"You've had thousands of women. Why should this be any different?"
"At least I can try."
She closed her eyes in frustration. He could be so stubborn sometimes. "You don't belong to her, and she doesn't belong to you."
"So you're saying I should leave Thayet?"
"Don't do that, Jon. Don't twist my words," she said tiredly. She braced her hands on the desk and sighed. "I guess if you break it off with her soon, Thayet needn't know."
Jon eyed her warily before replying, "I won't."
Her head snapped up, disbelief readable in her eyes. "You won't leave her for Thayet?"
"No, I won't."
"Could I ask you something?" He nodded reluctantly, wondering what it would be. "If we had gotten married, and not had that fight, and you had gone for Daine, would you have left her for me?"
His eyes clouded with confusion. "We wouldn't have Daine if you were Queen," he pointed out, avoiding the question entirely. "Onua got her, and Thayet got Onua."
"Would you leave her for me now?"
"No." His abrupt response hurt her; she turned away and began rummaging through the papers. "Is this what you're looking for?" He dangled the sketch from one hand.
She grinned, acting like his best friend again. "Let's see." He held it just out of her reach. Craning her neck upwards, she caught a glimpse of a sleeping brunette. Obviously he was proud of it; otherwise he would have hidden it, or torn it up. She grabbed it. It was so perfect, almost like looking into a reflection of Daine. He had captured her happiness, and his emotions in one single drawing.
"It's...amazing." Cocking her head onto one side, she asked a question which she had been thinking about for years. "Did you ever do any of these for me?"
He smiled, self-consciously. "You'd laugh."
"Probably would." Her care-free air vanished and she firmed her mouth. "Look, Jon, you belong to Thayet."
He sighed. "I thought we'd gone over this. I'm not leaving Daine."
"Not for Thayet?"
"No."
"I hope she realises how lucky she is. You'll give up your life for her."
"Would you do the same for George?"
"Yes. You think she's the one?"
"Might be."
She smiled; he was so cautious in some areas, but rushed too fast into others, in fact, so fast, he was only a blur. "Does she feel the same?" He obviously was going to be stubborn about this, but she'd try anyway.
"Mithros, Alanna, I don't care! You can keep your snide comments to yourself! Was I like this with Liam, or George? 'Are you sure he's putting the same amount of effort in? Will he drop you like a stone?'"
"It's only because I care about you, and Thayet!"
"I care about Thayet! I'd care about you, if you weren't so pig-headed!"
"Me, pig-headed! You wouldn't do this if you weren't the King! You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter. Some of us tried hard to get where we are!"
The air turned deathly cold. "Say that again," he dared her.
"Jon, I didn't-"
"Are you trying to tell me that daily death threats, the Chamber of the Ordeal twice, my parents' deaths, the immortals, constant politics, constant worrying about whether my 'think-first-let-others-regret-later' Champion is in danger is easy? Being the Voice, controlling a country, and trying to make changes that most nobles will hate are simple? Well, I better give over the whole struggle to you, since you'd do a much better job of it than my mess." He strode over to the door, in six furious steps.
"Jon, I-"
"I don't want to hear it," he shouted back.
The redhead agreed. In fact, she had some words of her own she'd like to share with the King.
"Uh, it's, you see... well, it's like-"
Alanna rolled her eyes, not bothering to wait for him to get to the point. "Jon, why are you cheating on Thayet? Who is it?"
"Who said I was cheating on Thayet?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Daine knows something about it, doesn't she? She bolted like a horse when it was mentioned earlier." She walked over to Jon's desk, and started rifling through the papers. She stopped at one, peered intently for a second, and then discarded it. "Come on, who is it?"
"What's that paper?"
"The letter to the Carthaki." She held it up. It was, very obviously, written in Tortallan. "I thought you might also have a picture of the idiot, but I was wrong. Is Daine in on your little joke?"
"Why are you getting at Daine?"
Alanna stopped, her mouth open to deliver a phrase that she had evidently thought better of. Or maybe she had just thought of who his "bit on the side" was. Or maybe she hadn't thought at all. "I'm not getting at-" Slowly, she looked at Jon. "At least tell me what she looks like."
His face lit up; she could see that he was thinking of something or someone he really cared about. "What who looks like?"
"Don't play me for a fool, Conté! If you don't enlighten me, I'll ask Daine- "
"No!" Wincing, he realised he'd spoken too soon, and too urgently. Daine would tell her instantly, and then tell Thayet, and then tell the whole court. Daine hated lying. Jonathon, who had grown up in a court, was used to it. He relied on it sometimes. He had to.
"No?" She smiled, like a lioness who had spied her prey. "She knows, doesn't she?"
Mithros, hadn't she guessed yet? Reluctantly, he admitted, "Yes."
Alanna watched Jon carefully. She knew him very well, probably better than anyone in the world. "I can't believe you fell for a bimbo-"
"She's not a bimbo!" he snarled, crossing his arms.
"Do you realise you've just proved to me who it is?"
He threw his hands in the air. "Look, I don't care what you think about me and Daine! I don't need your advice! What do you matter, anyway?"
She stepped back, hurt. "I thought I was your best friend. Obviously, I-"
"What kind of friend doesn't support decisions?"
"What kind of husband has an affair?" she snapped back. She was not going to let him get away with this.
"What about you? You were kissing George when we were together; you slept with Liam without having broken it off with George, and without having properly finished with me-"
His Champion's eyes flashed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise we were together when I was sixteen, BEFORE the war, before you even- I actually thought that saying, "I refuse to marry you," was a pretty proper ending. And as for Liam and George, what about all those court ladies? At least I told George!"
"Daine knows," he said flatly.
"It's pointless," she said, reluctantly dropping her voice to a reasonable level. "How long has it been going on?"
"Three months."
"You know it can't last," she reasoned.
"Why not? It might be able to."
"You've had thousands of women. Why should this be any different?"
"At least I can try."
She closed her eyes in frustration. He could be so stubborn sometimes. "You don't belong to her, and she doesn't belong to you."
"So you're saying I should leave Thayet?"
"Don't do that, Jon. Don't twist my words," she said tiredly. She braced her hands on the desk and sighed. "I guess if you break it off with her soon, Thayet needn't know."
Jon eyed her warily before replying, "I won't."
Her head snapped up, disbelief readable in her eyes. "You won't leave her for Thayet?"
"No, I won't."
"Could I ask you something?" He nodded reluctantly, wondering what it would be. "If we had gotten married, and not had that fight, and you had gone for Daine, would you have left her for me?"
His eyes clouded with confusion. "We wouldn't have Daine if you were Queen," he pointed out, avoiding the question entirely. "Onua got her, and Thayet got Onua."
"Would you leave her for me now?"
"No." His abrupt response hurt her; she turned away and began rummaging through the papers. "Is this what you're looking for?" He dangled the sketch from one hand.
She grinned, acting like his best friend again. "Let's see." He held it just out of her reach. Craning her neck upwards, she caught a glimpse of a sleeping brunette. Obviously he was proud of it; otherwise he would have hidden it, or torn it up. She grabbed it. It was so perfect, almost like looking into a reflection of Daine. He had captured her happiness, and his emotions in one single drawing.
"It's...amazing." Cocking her head onto one side, she asked a question which she had been thinking about for years. "Did you ever do any of these for me?"
He smiled, self-consciously. "You'd laugh."
"Probably would." Her care-free air vanished and she firmed her mouth. "Look, Jon, you belong to Thayet."
He sighed. "I thought we'd gone over this. I'm not leaving Daine."
"Not for Thayet?"
"No."
"I hope she realises how lucky she is. You'll give up your life for her."
"Would you do the same for George?"
"Yes. You think she's the one?"
"Might be."
She smiled; he was so cautious in some areas, but rushed too fast into others, in fact, so fast, he was only a blur. "Does she feel the same?" He obviously was going to be stubborn about this, but she'd try anyway.
"Mithros, Alanna, I don't care! You can keep your snide comments to yourself! Was I like this with Liam, or George? 'Are you sure he's putting the same amount of effort in? Will he drop you like a stone?'"
"It's only because I care about you, and Thayet!"
"I care about Thayet! I'd care about you, if you weren't so pig-headed!"
"Me, pig-headed! You wouldn't do this if you weren't the King! You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter. Some of us tried hard to get where we are!"
The air turned deathly cold. "Say that again," he dared her.
"Jon, I didn't-"
"Are you trying to tell me that daily death threats, the Chamber of the Ordeal twice, my parents' deaths, the immortals, constant politics, constant worrying about whether my 'think-first-let-others-regret-later' Champion is in danger is easy? Being the Voice, controlling a country, and trying to make changes that most nobles will hate are simple? Well, I better give over the whole struggle to you, since you'd do a much better job of it than my mess." He strode over to the door, in six furious steps.
"Jon, I-"
"I don't want to hear it," he shouted back.