The Secret of Char: Chapter One

Promptly at seven o'clock the next evening, Simon made an appearance at the banquet. He had been shoved into a tight blue new velvet doublet, tailored specifically to flaunt his muscular build. Simon stepped down lightly at the top of the staircase and gripped the long banister. He had an urge to slide down it. It was one of the few things he shared with Char; the midnight rides.

"But of course I had to pretend to be regal and majestic," he thought, containing the childish urges and he made an august enterance.

From atop the stairs Simon surveyed the room and began reflecting on what he saw in his subjects. All intellectually poor, weak- minded citizens. None have the ability to think for themselves. They all were brainwashed copies of each other. The ladies, trying to keep up with the latest fashions, were afraid to create their own. The men socialized with the power, craving the same authority but afraid to snatch it for themselves

Yet again Simon feared complete boredom. He aimlessly began strolling through the ballroom. The banquets his "mother" was so fond of throwing were not entertaining. The only hope for amuseument was withdrawing into his own brain, drawing tactics to use in the future. Plans on how to take over a kingdom, plans dealing with women, with laws, with international diplomacy. Planning ahead had given Simon all that he now lay claim to—planning ahead is how he was able to kill Prince Charmont.

Simon briskly walk down the long stairs, nodding and saluting people as often as courtesy demanded. Halfway down the stairs he froze. The double doors of the palace opened and an icy breath from the snow and wintry outdoors crept over the hall. Yet Simon ignored the change in temperature. A different reaction seized his body. A woman entered and looked around in momentary confusion. She was beautiful with tight brown curls and deep brown eyes. Simon knew right then and there he would win her over. He paused for a moment and watched the woman, observing everything about her. A plan was forming in his mind.

Instantaneously, Simon was moving again, striding quickly off the stairs, his eyes following the woman. As soon as Simon was off the stairs he slowed his pace. Mingled a bit, but his eyes followed her the whole time.

"Hello Charmont," squecked a sharp, piercing voice in his left ear. MY NAME IS SIMON! He bit back a scream and turned around with a charming smile, worthy of his late cousin.

"Good evening," Simon responded in an overly cheerful voice. Grimacing inwardly, he saw it was the Duchess of Banda and her three terrible daughters. "How are you enjoying the banquet, Lady Grace?"

The woman and her daughters twittered with laughter, "Oh, it's just delightful," she chippered, "Have I introduced you to my daughters? Oh my! I haven't. You're the same age I believe," she fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"Yes, I've met your daughters Grace; their names are Carmen, Ebony and Rose. Carmen is 17 and likes golf. She likes her tea with lemon and doesn't posses a personality. Ebony is 15 and a half and has the largest hat collection known to man. She owns over 3000 hats and wigs of varying styles, probably because she's bald. Rose is your youngest daughter, only 13 and pure as anything. She likes to sew and knit. She does not have the ability to string together more then 4 words at a time."

But of course Simon didn't say that. Char would never have said that. He would have said something disgusting like "It is my honor to breath their air. May I lick your boots?'

"Really Madame? I believe we have meet once or twice," Simon drawled, bowing courteously. He would only tell her what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, well, Rose and Ebony," she said waving them away, "And this, this is my precious Carmen," So this is the marriage bait, "Carmen is practically your age, your highness!"

"How nice," he say, politely. He was still watching the brunette woman over my shoulder. She was speaking to a group of ladies with oversized hats.

"She enjoys golf and horseback riding," Simon heard the Duchess saying. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to join her riding one afternoon," Carmen tossed her long blonde hair carelessly over her shoulder and smiled. Wench.

"That sounds nice. I'm sorry, but please excuse me,"

"Oh," Grace seems to be aback taken, "Yes, I'm sure you have other guests to attend to."

"I do indeed, good night ladies," Simon walked off without a backward glance and strode straight for his target and source of gossip, the old servant Riley.

"Evening, your Highness," greeted Riley as he stood stiffly against a wall.

"Evening Riley," Simon said. "I need information,"

The old servant was used to this. He grinned. "Who?"

"The woman over by the statue,"

"The one with the moustache?"

"NO!" Simon snickered, "The one with the brown curls,"

"Ah," the old servant sighed. "Lady Eleanor of Frell,"

"Age?"

"29," says Riley, "She's married to the merchant, Sir Peter."

"Is she now, that makes it all the more fun," Simon said with a grin as evil little thoughts danced in his head.

"She's got a 13 year old daughter," says Riley.

"A 13 year old?" He gasped, "When did that happen?"

"She was married to Peter when she was 16, and had the girl in the same year,"

"So is that why I've never seen her around?"

"Most likely," says Riley causally, "You're up to no good, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," He was up to no good. And Riley knew it.

"She's twice your age!" he cried, shocked.

"She's 29, I'm 18. Only a 14-year difference Riley. You know, I have a thing for older women..."

The old servant nodded. "So do I."

He looked him over, silently appraising the sort of women this elderly servant would go for. "How much older?"

Riley chuckled, "Go get her,"

He left the servant. The idea of an older woman, married and with a child almost his age. it was disgusting and exciting. Wicked. Almost incestuous.

He had to plan his every move. Casually lingering in her direction. "Accidentally" knocking in to her.

"Oh!" Simon exclaimed when he "knocked into" her. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't worry," she said smiling, "It isn't a problem, your Highness," she smiled.

He looked at her for a long while.

Her smile fades a minute. Thousands of cheap pick-up lines flooded his thoughts. He decide to stick to the basics, "You look like someone I know," My first wife, Simon thought rougely, imagining the flush that would cause across her girlish face.

"Really?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "I don't believe I've ever meet you before, Prince Charmont,"

"Char," Simon pleaded, letting his cousin's name roll off his tongue. "Call me Char, please."

"I don't believe I've ever meet you before. Char," Eleanor eyed him suspiciously.

"Thank you," Simon said, "But I think we have meet, Lady Eleanor,"

She was startled, "How do you know my name?"

Simon smile dashingly, showing off his brilliant teeth.. "How do you know mine?" She smiled and laughed. He joined in her musical laugh.

"Dinner is served!" anounnced the herald.

"Would you care to join me?" he asked politely, holding out my arm. She smiled and hesitated. Thoughts of her husband, Simon supposed. She's trying to decide if it was proper. Simon knew he'd have to make my offer irresistible. "Please, I would love the honor of having you as my dinner partner, Lady." He looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.

"Alright," she said, taking his arm.

Simon lead her up to the head of the table and set her at his right. Of course Duchess Grace and her daughters sneered.

As everyone sat down Simon whispered to her, "Now, there will be several long winded speeches by several pompous old men."

"Truly?" she asked, giggling slightly.

"Indeed," he nodded. "We shall all sit here, smelling the aroma of food as we hungrily wait for the speeches to end."

She giggles, "So there's no escaping it?"

"Do you want to escape it?" he ask with sudden intensity that startled him.

"I..." she stuttered in surprise, "I wonder, highness," she commented in clumsily recovery, "Why do you take interest in me?"

"I've heard of your beauty," he said.. Aren't I charming? Simon thought to himself. A perfect little brainwashed Char. She blushed. How nice.

"Honestly highness, you bluff. Tell me truly, or I shall leave," she says with a smile.

"No," he smiled, "It shall be my mystery for the evening." Eleanor laughed at his comment, hiding her face under her napkin.

"Really?" she asked coquettishly.

"You might ask what about next evening..."he drawled quietly, winking at her.

She laughed again. Her music sounded like little children chasing a kitten. "Fine."

She took the blue napkins next to her plate and shakes it out defiantly. A hush fell over the hall. The High Chancellor Thomas had got up to speak. He's a boring man who would gladly see Simon dead-with his death he would be King Thomas. They'd had quiet a few spats over conflicts of interest.

"Today, is a day, like any other day," he began to drone, "But, it's also a day, when things happen..."

Simon, already disgusted, turned and faced his attention fully on Eleanor. She was slowly shredding her blue napkin into strips.

"What are you doing?" He mouthed, puzzled..

She put a finger to her lips. Simon watched her in curiosity. She had taken her pieces of the napkin and began to move them to what appeared to be a face.

The face began to take the shape of the pompous Chancellor. She grinned and Simon began to chuckle.

".. And so it is that two things are happening. We celebrate the birth of our great Prince Charmont but we mourn. Mourn the death of the Duke Simon. Cousin and close friend to the royal family." Lady Eleanor is stabbing madly away at the napkin person now. Simon couldn't contain himself.. Whether it was the site of a 30-year-old woman playing with napkins or the remarks the Chancellor was making about him, the irony of everything came out. Simon started laughing.

He tried to control it, but he couldn't help it.

A few people around him noticed and looked away. The giggles turned into hearty laugh and before long. well..

Simon quickly got up and left the room. The Great Hall was deserted. He collapsed into fits of giggles.

It echoed across the empty room. Fearing the noise will travel back into the Dinning Room, he slipped out of double doors.

Once out there Simon laughed until he couldn't move. But a thought crossed his mind: "I have lost my only chance with Lady Eleanor".

The door creaked open.

Maybe not.

"Char?"

"Hello," he said, still snickering, "What are you doing out here?"

"Being rude and disrespectful too," she said with a grin

Simon couldn't fight it any longer. He grabbed her and kissed her. And she didn't fight back. They kissed for several long moments.

"Lady, I." Simon finally blurted out. "I didn't know how to tell you this but."

"But what?" she whispered seductively. "I like that wagon you're dragging." She looked at me oddly and Simon sighed, angry that his clever compliment went unnoticed. "You have a great butt, Lady Eleanor."

"Please," she whispered, falling onto his chest. With that he gather her up and took her out to the barn for a romp in the hay.

Which is how the Lady Eleanor became his lover. In secret of course, she wouldn't have it any other way. He was glad for that but knew she wouldn't flaunt her boy toy around with the court. She was above that. Their affair lasted 6 months. No one ever knew or suspected.

He never thought he would love her. He never really even thought of if he even liked her. She was just another conquest, a plan that had succeeded. But when she fell ill, he was shocked. And when he found out she had died, he was devastated.

He missed his sex toy.