Chapter Six - Unwelcome Attentions
Aly returned to the banquet once she could control her emotions and sat down once again among the other young, unmarried ladies. They looked around at each other uncomfortably and shifted in their seats. If they had been of lesser breeding, she could have sworn they were fidgeting. Obviously she had been the topic of conversation moments before. She shot a look at Cecila across the table, who shrugged back.
The rest of dinner passed in the same way, the table unusually quiet. Conversation was strained and the only subjects were of petty, unimportant matters. Aly was all too glad when the king and Princess Lianne--serving as hostess in her mother's absence--stood, signaling the end of the banquet and the start of the ball. Together they led the way into one of the ballrooms adjacent to the hall and that portion of the evening had begun.
She objected none when Kentar sought her hand for the first dance, a long waltz. It was practically interminable, as every eye on the sidelines of the dance floor was fixed on the two of them. I seem to attract scandal, she lamented silently. Life without all this intrigue was certainly less interesting, but far easier.
Once the set was over, she grabbed her brother's elbow and dragged him to a private alcove. "Well?"
"Well what?" Thom asked, annoyed that his conversation with the extremely pretty Lady Lucrezia had been so rudely interrupted. "In case you hadn't noticed, I was talking to someone."
Aly scowled at him menacingly. "You have the rest of the night to seduce her. I need your advice. What certain female qualities do men absolutely despise? I mean, what makes a woman completely undesirable to you? A woman who is physically perfect."
He cocked an eyebrow. "If I could find a physically perfect woman, her personality flaws wouldn't matter in the least." He frowned slightly. "Who are you trying to turn away?"
"The king," she replied matter-of-factly.
Thom paled and shook his head. "The king has asked for you?"
"No, not yet."
"You can't say no if he does." Her brother looked past her, deep in thought. "But you can't do anything while still unwed, and what man would marry you while you are the king's favorite? Damn, damn, damn, Aly. What a mess you've gotten us all into."
"Us?" Aly nearly shouted. "Since when did I do anything to you? D'you think I wanted this to happen? I'm the one whose reputation is on the line, you selfish bastard, and all you can think about is yourself! How typical!"
He shook his head and walked off, leaving her alone. For a time, at least. "I thought I'd find you here," Jonathan said amiably as he sat down on the windowseat next to her.
"Your Majesty," she replied respectfully, inclining her head. "You honor me with your presence."
"And you flatter me with your praise." He was silent for a few moments. "I've heard the rumors too, you know."
"Sire, begging your pardon, but before you go on," Aly interjected, her heart pounding as she said what she knew she needed to, "I beseech you listen to what I have to say. I am only seventeen, and unwed. My parents are your close friends and," she lowered her voice slightly, "you were my mother's lover once. I am but a child, a betrothed one at that, and I do not wish to sully my reputation. Above all, you are my godsfather, and your wife the queen my godsmother. I would not hurt her for the riches of all the kingdoms in the world. Please, do not ask me to do what I cannot."
The king raised his eyebrows and looked at his hands. "I would place you on a pedestal, the court would turn about your every whim. Everyone in the realm would kiss the ground you walked on, and do anything for a chance to touch the hem of your gown as you passed. I would make you a queen."
"A false queen," she said tartly. "Queen for a day, a week, perhaps a month at the most, until you found another girl to admire. No, Majesty, I will not be your mistress. I will not be your whore. You have been like a father to me all my life; the very thought is repulsive! I ask you once more, please do not demand of me what I cannot give you. I have no desire to be known as the king's concubine. I do not want my husband to bear the shame of the sons carrying his name actually being your bastards."
Jonathan stared at her, quite speechless. It wasn't every day one of his courtiers refused him something that he wanted. "My lady," he finally managed, changing tactics, "my intentions are hardly what you have so blatantly put forth."
Aly rose and dropped a deep curtsy, seeing straight through his little ploy. "By your leave, Majesty." Without waiting for his permission as required, she turned her back and walked confidentally away, never once looking back at his awestruck face.
She awoke before dawn the next morning, and was waiting in her father's study when he walked in. George jumped when he saw her sitting in front of his desk, a frown on her face. When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand to silence him. "No, Da, wait. I came back with you. I could have stayed in the Copper Isles, I probably should have, but I didn't. I did what you wanted me to, like a good little girl, and all I've gotten for my obedience is a betrothal to an arrogant prig and the wonderfuly infamy of being the king's latest paramour. So if you think I'm just going to sit here and let my life be ruined, you're sorely mistaken."
"Aly, no." He sat down and stared back at her, looking equally serious.
"I know the risks involved..."
"You have no clue of the risks involved," he snapped, his voice dangerously quiet. "The sort of dangers you faced in the Isles, they were nothing. I absolutely refuse to let my daughter be exposed to a world such as this one. Yes, Aly, you're clever, and you know how to take care of yourself, but you're handicapped by the fact that you've grown up as a noble. I have only ever allowed you to see part of what goes on, and for a reason. It's a dirty, dangerous world."
Aly scowled at him. "Why won't you just get over the fact that I'm not a child anymore? I'm seventeen, I can take care of myself!"
"I said no, and I meant it. Unless you want to marry Kentar of Ormane within the hour, I'd suggest you not bring it up again."
She looked away, blinking away tears of frustration and rage. Her parents were two of the most unconventional rule-breakers in the history of Tortall, and yet they were completely inflexible when it came to her. Then what her father said hit her: if she were married to Kentar, she would no longer be under their control. She brightened somewhat. "Fine, then. Call him. I'd rather be his wife and treated like a woman my age than your daughter and treated like a feckless child."
George looked up from the document he was reading and narrowed his eyes. "You're up to something, aren't you?"
"No. But you told me..."
"I was exaggerating. Now, if you don't mind, I..."
"I will marry him, and I'll marry him now," Aly interrupted, standing up so fast that her head began to spin. She steadied herself and continued, "Call Kentar. The earl's dying anyway, he'll want to see the contract actually carried out." She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Mora was preparing one of her gowns when she stormed into the room. "I need something nicer than that," she said swiftly and breathlessly.
"My lady?"
Aly grinned with her casual recklessness. "I'm about to solve all of my problems. Well, sort of."
Dressed in her favorite pale green gown, she tore through the halls towards Kentar's apartments. Her fiancé was going over reports with his steward when she walked in unannounced and uninvited. He scowled at her. "Yes?"
Aly inclined her head towards his steward and smiled graciously. "Good sir, I hope you will excuse us for a moment?"
The man, awestruck, had little option but to nod and bow respectfully. He exited swiftly, leaving them alone. Kentar, typically resplendent in a white shirt, scarlet tunic and hose, leaned against his desk and looked at her peevishly. "Well? What is so damned important that you can interrupted a meeting with my steward?"
"I've come to marry you," she answered him baldly.
He stepped back, taken aback by the bluntness of her reply. "W-what? But we weren't supposed to...for months, at least. No plans have been made."
She waved his words away. "Kentar, there are four necessary ingredients for a wedding: a bride, a groom, a priest, and a witness. Besides, I've found it of late to be advantageous to marry you as soon as possible." She frowned at his quizzical expression. "What, at least I'm up front with you about my ulterior motives!"
He turned away from her and gazed out the window which looked over one of the larger entrance courtyards. He tensed suddenly as he watched several people dismount.
"What's wrong?" Aly asked, curious, as she joined him by the window. It looked like a diplomatic party, and she started to turn away, uninterested, when the strikingly blonde head of one of the arrivals caught her eye. "Goddess."
"'Goddess' is right," Kentar replied, his voice troubled and distracted. He wheeled around and headed towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
He pulled his hat to a rakish angle and raised a single eyebrow at her. "Going to find out why my aunt and uncle have decided to grace us with their royal presence. Well? Are you coming?"
"Kentar, my darling," Imajane said graciously as she opened her arms to embrace him. "If possible, you've grown even more handsome since I last saw you!"
"You flatter me, Your Highness." He nodded respectfully to his uncle Rubinyan, who was in the middle of a confidential conversation with one of the Islander noblemen. Kentar motioned for Aly to come forward and join him. "Princess Imajane, might I present my fiancée, Lady Alianne of Pirate's Swoop? Alianne, this is my uncle's wife, King Dunevon's sister."
The princess' eyebrows twitched together slightly at her name. She shot a fleeting glance at her husband, and looked back at Aly. "How wonderful it is to finally meet you, my dear. I've heard so much about you!"
"None of it good, I hope," Aly retorted, keeping her voice light and casual, even as thoughts raced madly about her mind. The princess laughed appreciatively, fanning herself slightly with a Yamani-style fan. Then it seemed that something occurred to her, as she immediately brightened.
"Ah yes. That reminds me, I would hope that you'd be able to do me a slight favor. When my dear cousin Mequen died last year, he left behind four children. I've, ah, taken his two elder daughters under my wing, and they begged me for the opportunity to accompany me on such a journey." Imajane nodded at a lady-in-waiting, who ran off to do her mistress' bidding. "The older, Saraiyu, is just about your age. She'll be thrilled to be introduced to Tortallan culture by someone native to it, especially someone with a...colorful family such as yours."
Aly ignored the cleverly disguised insult to her parents as she saw Sarai enter the room. Her friend's eyes lit up when she saw her, but Aly shook her head a fraction of an inch from side to side in warning.
Imajane gestured for her cousin to come over. "Saraiyu dear, Lady Alianne has so generously offered to make you feel at home."
Sarai dropped a curtsy, inclining her head respectfully. "I am most grateful, my lady."
Kentar rolled his eyes at Aly over her head, shaking his head slightly. Aly ignored him and turned towards the princess with a gracious smile and a deep curtsy. "Your Highness, by your leave."
Imajane nodded and began speaking in hushed tones with Kentar. Sarai, a huge grin on her face, followed Aly out into the hallway. Once the door had shut behind them, she grabbed her hands excitedly. "You never told me that you were betrothed to Lord Kentar! How wonderful! We'll be able to see each other so much more often now!"
Aly shrugged, leaning up against a windowsill. "I won't be seeing the Copper Isles anytime soon. Kentar intends to have me run his estates in the country, leaving me to rot away from court. It's no matter. I'll be old and fat before my time bearing all of those sons he keeps talking about." There was a sudden flash of color in the corner of her eye, and she looked out the window to see the king surrounded by a few of his councillors. She cursed inwardly and grabbed Sarai by the elbow, knowing full well that Jonathan was headed straight in their direction.
Sarai pulled back, rubbing her arm. "Ow! What was that for?"
"We need to get out of here. Now."
"Well, well, well," Kyprioth said in a smarmy voice. It appeared to Aly that everything had frozen around them, Sarai even in mid-stride.
"What do you want?"
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, an infuriating smirk on his face. "Is that any way to speak to a god? One of the great gods, nonetheless? Tsk tsk, my dear. I should teach you proper etiquette."
"I'd sooner kiss a pig."
That remark caused him to laugh uproariously, as if she had just told a witty jest. "I find it funny that no matter what their circumstances, all girls turn into their mothers."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing," he replied, shaking his head and still smiling. "So, I must say, you've a good deal on your plate, what with the Islanders in Tortall and the king's er, interest in your affairs."
Aly froze, suspicion steadily rising. "What do you know about that? Last I checked, you weren't too interested in the affairs of this realm."
Kyprioth blew a kiss at her and disappeared with a pop. At once, everything started moving again, and Sarai scowled at her petulantly. Aly shook her head, biting her tongue to keep from exploding in a fit of rage, and started walking quickly. She hoped that they would turn the corner before the king came inside and was practically running down the hall.
"Alianne."
Both girls came to a halt and slowly turned around. Jonathan was alone now, thankfully, and dressed rather plainly in a blue tunic and hose and a white shirt. Aly dropped immediately into a low curtsy, afraid that Sarai would not know his identity. "Majesty," she murmured, eyes downcast.
Sarai's eyes widened as she mimicked Aly's gesture. Aly, desperately searching for a stalling point, made the introductions. "King Jonathan, may I present Lady Saraiyu Balitang of the house of Rittevon? Sarai, this is His Majesty, King Jonathan of Tortall."
Jonathan nodded politely to Sarai and turned back to Aly with a smile spreading slowly on his face. He reminded her of a fox cornering its defenseless prey. "My lady, I've been looking for you all morning."
A door opened behind the king, but he didn't notice. Kentar froze on the threshold when he saw the king. His look of mixed fury and disbelief was pronounced, his stance immediately defensive.
Aly had a sudden thought. She smiled sweetly and adoringly up at Jonathan, the very image of a doting, mindless noblewoman. "Sire, I have heard that the princess Shinkokami is with child. My sincerest congratulations! You must be so excited to be a grandfather."
The silence was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Over Jonathan's shoulder, she could see Kentar's amused grin, and she could feel Sarai's shocked gape. The king's face was thunderous. He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into an unused ballroom off of the hallway. He slammed the door behind them.
"I am not amused, my dear," he hissed through clenched teeth. "I have offered to give you the world, and you throw my most generous offer back into my face. I am the king. No one says no to me, do you understand? No one. I will have you, do you understand me?" With that he stormed out, again slamming the door.
Aly stared into a mirror on the wall and cocked an eyebrow. "That's what you think," she said to no one in particular. "You picked the wrong girl to trifle with, Jonathan of Conté."
A/N: Poor Jon. Unwitting pawn of the gods, making a fool of himself over a teenage girl. God, this is so Days of Our Lives.
Sorry about the wait, by the way. I've been exceedingly busy lately, what with junior year and all of that fun stuff. What little time I have after schoolwork is usually dedicated to my social life.
Well, that, and fantasizing about Prince William, but I don't want you all to think I'm completely pathetic.
Which I am, but such is life.
Oh, by the way, if you see one movie this holiday season (er, well, this January season), make sure it's Cold Mountain. Simply amazing, and, yes, much better than Return of the King (which I still enjoyed immensely and thought was absolutely fabulous). I guess in my book, Middle Earth doesn't hold a candle to Civil War America.