A/N: Opening scene is a little on the spicy side, so please take caution about where you're reading it. Other than that, enjoy!
XOXOXOXOXOXO
Chapter Sixteen:
Mind, Body, & Soul
Whitehall Palace, London
Blair stood before the large oak doors of Chuck's bedchambers. There was an extremely anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach. She pulled the nightgown tightly clasped in her hands to her chest as the guards moved to open the doors for her. They did not look at her; they never looked at her. She knew this was for the best, but tonight it only made her feel all the wearier. As she made her way through the doors, and into Chuck's room she felt herself begin to tremble. She wasn't sure what to expect of tonight, or what his words had meant. For all she knew she could have angered him so much that he was now going to ride her hard and put her away wet, like some old lame horse. If only she could go back in time and avoid the banquet all together. While dancing had felt good at the time, she had never seen Chuck so angry, so jealous. And it of course didn't help that he was already drunk and riddled with so much resentment.
She stopped in the center of the room, looking out the large stone window at first. The night was black, and although she could see a full moon, there oddly seemed to be very little stars in the sky. A shiver ran down her spine and she wasn't sure if it came from nerves or if she were actually cold. She took a step backwards, towards the fire, feeling it instantly warm her back. Then her eyes cautiously began to wonder around the room.
Where was Chuck?
The room smelled of embers from the fire, but there was also a distinct underlying aroma of wine. He had been there since the banquet, but her eyes could not find him in the dimly lit room. Blair steadied herself, taking a deep breath, and walking over to stand at the foot of the bed. Her hand reached out, grasping the silky feeling furs. The feeling of them always brought comfort to her, and even in that moment it did help—a little.
"You're late."
She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, biting down hard on her lip. At least he wasn't yelling. In fact, he didn't sound quite as irate as before. That wasn't to say his tone of voice was exactly comforting though either. It was soft, but in an eerie sort of way. And although it didn't sound venomous, it did have a chilling attribute to it.
Blair turned around to face him, moving at an exceptionally slow pace. When she did finally see him, lock eyes with him, she felt all in her go still. He was leaning in the doorway to his royal bathing chambers, his dark hair still evidently wet from a wash. He had on a pair of nighttime trousers, but they hung loosely around his waist. His white shirt was baggy, and cut steeply down the middle, all the way to his belly button. The light from the moon illuminated his pale skin, making his eyes appear all the darker and more menacing. She could still make out the dark purple and green coloring of his bruises; spot a bandage or two on his stomach. He appeared quite opposite from his weakened state before though, bruised or not.
"You're late, and you're still dressed in your gown from tonight. Apparently you've forgotten how to tell time and listen." Chuck advanced towards her, circling her round once like a shark.
"I brought the nightgown, as you requested. I was not sure if changing into one merely to ruin it served such a purpose," Blair explained, her voice sounding timid. She proceeded to hold the garment out to him, as if to present him with it.
Chuck's eyes fell to it momentarily, but it seemed of little interest to him. He took it from her hands, tossing it over onto a chair in the corner of the room. Then he reached his hands up to the neckline of her dress, weaving his fingers underneath the fabric and giving it a slight tug.
Blair remained still, watching him with cautious eyes. She only gasped when he spun her around, facing her back to him, and pulling her against his chest. His arm snaked around the front of her waist, and she felt his sultry breath on her nape.
"What happened tonight, dancing with him—I'd like you to know it was as offensive to me as it was unacceptable," he seethed. His vocalization was more tense now, his hold on her more forceful.
Blair closed her eyes, her heartbeat quickening as she felt him rake his teeth up the side of her neck.
"I—I did not mean to offend you, or deride you, Chuck. I found myself at an impasse when Thomas approached me, you were not within reach," she stuttered.
"I saw you with him. I know what you look like when you're having a good time," he rasped, accusation now tainting his tone.
She felt his hands on her back, and then suddenly she shook as he gave her dress a harsh pull. The sound of the material ripping rang out in the tensely silent room. Blair felt the material fall limp around her, then continuing onto the floor. She looked down to see the torn fabric, the once lovely gown now ruined. She gasped, bringing a hand up to her mouth to stifle it.
Chuck walked around her, coming face to face with her once more. His left eyebrow was quirked, in question at her actions, as if they had surprised him. He began to undo his shirt, strip himself of it.
Blair looked up to him, eyes narrowed, and lips in a pout. She shook her head.
"Why would you do that? That gown was a gift from you. You said it pleased you—"
"You ruined it for me, the image of you in it. You did that tonight when I saw you entertaining another man whilst you wore it. You ruined it for me, so I in turn ruined it for you," he explained, little to no emotion in his voice.
Somehow she suspected there was quite a lot of emotion behind it though, even if he was good at hiding it. She stared at him, still frowning, trying to piece together his reasoning. His actions aligned somewhere between a spoiled child and a prince who always got what he wanted.
Could it be he was not being cruel, but getting even?
She observed as he stripped himself of all clothing, but his bottoms. Then he walked over to open the chest in his bedroom. She'd never really seen him retrieve anything from there before, but it was a cold and stormy night. Perhaps there were additional blankets inside it. She reached out, grabbing onto one of the bedposts and sort of leaning up against it as she watched him.
"Are we even then?" she asked, hoping that they were. He had seemed to sober up a little, enough to actually communicate with her—seemingly at least.
He did not look up at her, but stared down at something in the chest. He only chuckled darkly at her question.
"Not quite."
Blair turned her back to him, resting further against the post so that he could not see her make a face at his response. She could not yet make sense of what he meant, or grasp what was to happen.
"What can I do to prove it to his highness that my loyalty to him is unwavering?" she asked, though she kept her back to him.
"You could start by not lying to me, and follow with learning to listen," he retorted, his tongue sharp. With that he slammed the lid of the chest shut, the abrupt noise of it causing her to jump.
"Do not turn around, unless I say otherwise," Chuck commanded.
She heard his footsteps approaching behind her, felt the heat radiating off his body as he neared. She closed her eyes and nodded.
"Keep hold of the bedpost. Steady yourself with it, if need be," he instructed. He then began to tear off the rest of her undergarments. When he got to her corset she felt him grab hold of her arm, further securing her in place.
"Stay still." His orders were short, serious.
She then heard what sounded like a knife or blade of some sort cutting ribbon. She looked down to the floor to see the slashed satin ribbon of her corset. Her body was instantly freed, all fabric now on the floor, and her nude form exposed to him. She grasped onto the bedpost tighter, feeling herself begin to tremble.
Was the blade what he had retrieved from the chest?
Did he plan to—hurt her with it?
Her thoughts ended at the sound of metal clashing against the floor. Her eyes averted in its direction and she saw that it was indeed a small blade, but he had already discarded it. Apparently he had only wanted to use it to shred the rest of her clothing. She was thankful; men in his position were not always above such wicked acts.
Blair felt Chuck at her back. He placed his hands on her waist, and touched his lips to her nape.
"Shhhh. I do not want for you to be frightened, Blair," he purred.
She felt herself calm some at his words. It was only shortly after though she felt him grab hold of the back of her neck with one hand, and her backside with the other. Assertively he guided her to the bed, bending her over it. Blair rested her cheek to the softness of his blankets, gripping the material of them in her hands. She felt something foreign run down her back, tickling her. It was cool and smooth against her skin, like leather—like a bundle of leather cords.
"What is that, Chuck?" Blair asked, sounding more curious than uneasy. She had arrived tonight expecting a fight, but that hadn't happened. Something else was going on, and she couldn't help, but be somewhat intrigued by it.
Chuck's hand wrapped around her curls, as if he were going to tie back her hair for her. Instead he gripped her locks in one hand, continuing to tease her with the other.
"Does it matter?" he rasped. "Don't you trust me?"
Blair closed her eyes once more, gritting her teeth. She hoped she wouldn't regret this later.
"It doesn't matter. I trust you." The word burned at the tip of her tongue, but thankfully didn't sound any different than any others she'd spoken. It felt as if she'd just sworn some kind of sacred vow to him. Did she trust him? Was it even wise to trust anyone in her current situation? She supposed in her current predicament she hadn't much of a choice. Her goal had been set, there was one way to it, and she wasn't the only one dictating her path anymore. A shift in the bed caused her to break from her thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment—with Chuck. She inhaled deeply.
Chuck climbed onto the bed, straddling over the back of her thighs. He then leaned down over her, biting her neck, and whispering to her.
"I want you to know that what I am about to do to you is not meant with intent to hurt. I do not wish to abuse the body or spirit of my sweetheart. Do you understand?"
Blair's eyes opened wide at his words. She shook her head. "I do not understand, Chuck."
"You will," he hissed. Then he rose up again, pulling her hair and head back as he did so. Once more she felt the unknown object rake across her skin, this time down her bottom and thighs.
"You gave yourself to me, Blair. And I am not just any man. I am a prince, the sole prince and heir of England. One day I will be King. With that comes certain—boundaries, and consequences, should they not be understood. I will not be played a fool. I am not Thomas. I am to rule over this court and they will not see me publicly slighted, especially not by someone I've held above all others," he informed her.
She felt him get off the bed, and sensed him now standing beside it, hovering over her. She listened to his words carefully, trying to decipher them. One phrase in particular stood out amongst the rest. "Someone I've held above all others" the words repeated over and over in her mind.
"If you make me feel as I felt tonight again, watching you with him—I will punish you, and I don't mean just ripping your dress—"
"Punish me?" Blair interrupted, lifting her head from the bed some. However, her outburst was quickly intercepted.
Chuck's hand cupped her bottom, before lifting from it, only to come back swiftly and land with a loud slapping sound. Blair cried out a little, feeling a sharp sting from it shortly after. She turned her face into the bed, gripping onto the blankets even tighter than before.
"If you interrupt me, this will only carry on longer. I told you before that you had the chance to speak with me, and instead you chose to withhold information and try and appease me. I do not wish to be appeased by you, injured or not. You will not pacify me, Blair. I have plenty of others who merely appease and pacify me all day long. If I am to keep you this close to me then I must know that I can trust you, above all others. I may not be a righteous man, but I have been a loyal one thus far."
She closed her eyes, listening to him with the upmost attentiveness.
Were it possible this retched night had led her to breaching another barrier with him?
While it was clear she had upset him, he remained honest and straightforward with her. In a way, it was the best communication they had since someone had attempted to end his life, wounding him in the process. It was as if she'd found another way to communicate with him when words fell short.
Without warning something swift braced her bottom once more, only this time it felt different. He hadn't spanked her with his hand, but something else. It stung a little worse, in more places at once.
"You will not dance with other men from here on. Do you understand?" he asked, his voice now louder and sterner than before.
Blair nodded into the bed.
"Yes, Chuck. I understand." She spoke as plainly as she could. She wanted him to know she was listening to him.
Again, the object stung her backside. She winced, biting her lip. The pain wasn't unbearable, rather effective in the moment. She wouldn't admit it to herself, but she wasn't exactly tightening up in response. Instead she found herself relaxing more, despite the blows. She had a lot of wound up emotion these past few days with everything that had happened, and how Chuck had been acting. It seemed they both were releasing things they needed to get out, just in different ways.
"You will not flirt with or tease me with other men. Do you understand?" He flogged her once more.
"Yes," Blair vowed. The pain was a little more intense now. It was probably due to him whipping at the same spot, but she didn't doubt this was on purpose. She took a deep breath, it sounded sharp as she inhaled. Then she held it, bracing herself for the next question.
"You will not wound my ego as you did—You will not hurt me again, as you did tonight. Do you understand?" Those words didn't seem to come out as plainly, almost as if he struggled with them. She could somewhat understand, for she had felt silenced by them herself.
She felt a sharp pop on her bottom again, it being the most rough and jarring of them all.
"Do you understand?" Chuck asked, his voice breaking some.
Blair nodded, releasing her breath and gasping for air some. "Yes. Yes, Chuck. Yes, I understand," she swore, trembling as she spoke.
She watched from the corner of her eye as he nodded and stepped away from the bed. He walked back over to the chest and put what appeared to be a small flogger inside of it. Then he came back over to her, running his hand over her red and inflamed looking bottom. She closed her eyes as he rubbed it; the warmth of his skin touching hers momentarily distracted her from the sharp sting that remained.
That went on for a few moments before Blair felt he had flipped her over, onto her back. She stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. He climbed over her, bringing his hand up to tenderly stroke her cheek.
"Are you alright?" he asked. There was genuine concern in his voice now, kindness returned to his eyes.
Blair nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. Chuck touched his fingertips to it, matching hers with a softer looking smirk of his own.
"I have missed you. I didn't like feeling this space between us, like you were drifting from me. I know I have not been the most pleasant with the pain I've felt, but you must understand I am not easily able to accept any loss of control. Other than when it comes to my father the world as far as I'm concerned is mine to do with as I wish. I am not so easily restricted, so confined." The words seemed to put a bad taste in his mouth with how his voice seemed to change with the use of them.
Blair lifted herself just enough so that her lips could meet his, pulling him into a kiss. It started out soft and slow, but turned to one of passion quickly. Chuck kissed her back, lowering his body further onto hers. They broke, both gasping for breath, their foreheads pressed to one another.
Chuck peered down at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You are so very beautiful," he breathed. "One cannot blame me for wishing to possess you."
Blair smiled, that special sort of twinkle in her eye.
"And will you treasure me as well?" she asked brazenly. For the first time in a week she was once more beginning to truly feel like herself.
He chuckled, appearing pleased with the swift return of her familiar audacious behavior. He nodded in his head in response, bringing her hands up to his lips to gently kiss her knuckles.
"I swear to you that I will treasure you so long that you are mine—in mind, body, and soul," Chuck told her.
Blair sensed a fluttering feeling in her stomach as the words left his lips, and sincerely began to sink in.
"And I swear to you that I could be no one else's," Blair vowed. She watched carefully as he reacted to her promise. His face seemed to light up like that of a delighted child. He seemed elated. As he climbed off of her and eased himself down onto his back, lying down beside her, he could not stop grinning. Her words had clearly pleased him. And she could not deny that his words had enchanted her.
It was only what these words would truly mean, or come to mean that mattered though. And what would that be?
The image of a crown flashed through her thoughts, a bowing crowd, and the hand of a prince to hold her own—no, not a prince—a King.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The celestial sound of a harp resonated around the royal dining area. It was one of the many, more private, and smaller rooms in the palace. It was not a grand hall, but instead somewhere the king, or other members of the royal family, could gather with their chosen audience to partake in just about whatever they desired. It was not somewhere any mere member of court would be permitted, but somewhere more secluded. There they and their closest of confidents could seek entertainment away from the observant eyes of court.
Tonight the room had been prepared for the Chuck and Blair, along with Nate, and some of the prince's other closest of courtiers. Even the servants who attended to them had been selected carefully. Chuck wanted to be able to act as he wished with Blair, and otherwise. He wouldn't tell her as much, but he enjoyed seeing her behave true to herself, as well. That fire in her, when she felt well enough in her element, both amused and charmed him more than any other could.
He was seated at the head of the table, Nate to his left, and Blair's open chair to his right. Chuck had been gazing at her all night. She now stood across the room speaking with one of her ladies in waiting. She was smiling, and laughing as they both played with these ridiculous looking feathered fans. Chuck had given them to her earlier that night to help with the humidity in the palace as the rain carried on outside. Despite the conditions though, Blair looked nothing short of radiant. The gown she wore tonight looked particularly regal, as it should have, being a gift from him. He had given it to her, along with a few other gowns, to replace the one he'd ruined. She had been most enthusiastic when he gave them to her, shortly after showing a rather impassioned response of appreciation.
The one she wore tonight was a white gown, decorated with a golden floral pattern, and a matching golden underskirt. The neckline of it was low cut, and the sleeves were long, but tight. It definitely helped in highlighting her petite form, rather than swallowing it in fabric. Her dark curls fell down her back as always, looser tonight than they could be at court. She looked stunning in it, like she did in everything she wore.
However, there was something missing…but what?
"Well, I for one am glad at the promise of a new queen… just look at all the new ladies it's already brought to court. For you know what they say? A court without ladies is like a garden without flowers," Nate laughed, his voice interrupting Chuck's thoughts. The other men continued to chuckle with him, but their conversation had been lost on Chuck.
It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying their company, but rather that he found it hard that night to focus on much other than Blair. Since the night of the banquet, and how they'd sorted it out, it was practically painful to be away from her. Chuck Bass had never chased a woman before Blair Waldorf, and now it felt like proper procedure to stalk her around his own castle. He told himself his developing co-dependency on her had mostly to do with her providing a unique carnal outlet to his otherwise boring days whilst being injured. With each day that progressed though, this theory faded further from him. As his strength slowly returned to him, and his body healed, he continued to hunger for her—to need her.
Blair and a few of her girls had begun to spin around now, the harp player trying to establish a pace that would coincide with their fun. She was giggling uncontrollably as she did so; perhaps she was the one who had a little too much wine for once. He smirked at the thought of the few nights he'd seen her truly drunk, she regressed to the mentality of a spoiled little girl when it happened—so not too much different than her usual self. He chuckled to himself.
"What is it that amuses you so, your Highness?" William asked, raising his cup to him in inquiry.
Chuck's watchful gaze averted from Blair to his friend's. Before he could respond though, Nate spoke.
"Surely not our conversation. I do not believe his highness has been listening to a word I've said," Nate quipped. A grin remained on his lips, as to not insult the prince, but there was a slight bitterness to his tone. It remained hard for him to help himself when referencing Blair, something that did not escape Chuck, or suit him.
William began to snicker at this comment, lightening the mood once more. He reached out his hand, patting Nate's back jestingly.
"I do dare say our dear Nathaniel is still jealous, your Highness. Though we beg on his behalf you do forgive him. It is a hard fact for one as beautiful and blessed as he to fall with such grace. It must burn the soul to lose that title of his highness's most favorite," William proclaimed, still poking fun at Nate. The other men at the table laughed at his always entertaining, and flamboyant sort of style.
Chuck found himself snickering at it too, looking to Nate with a nod.
"Is that it then, Nathaniel?" he smirked. The moment was actually cheerful and carefree, fun even.
Nate rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, and sitting up straighter in his seat. He cast a short look over his shoulder to Blair, and then returned his gaze to the men.
He shrugged, "I suppose I just do not see what all the fuss is about."
Chuck's eyes narrowed at the insult, and the other men quieted. He was about to warn his friend to bite his tongue, when the music suddenly stopped, diverting all of their attention.
"My lady!" one of Blair's girls gasped, her voice calling out loudly in the small room.
Chuck was on his feet before he realized what was even going on. He found himself across the room quickly, bending to the floor where Blair had fallen. Her two ladies in waiting were already trying to help her up, but they jerked back once he grabbed hold of her.
"What happened?" he seethed, glaring at the girls as he pulled Blair's small form of up with ease. He held her closely to his chest, touching a hand to her cheek, and then her forehead to try and gauge her temperature.
The girl's eyes fell to the floor and she stuttered with fear. "Forgive us, your Highness. It all happened so fast. She was spinning and I believe she became dizzy. We could not catch her before she fell—we did not realize—"
"Be quiet, girl. The prince doesn't need you blubbering on like an idiot," Nate interrupted her, appearing at his side. With a strange look on his face he too bent down, helping Chuck and Blair both stand.
Blair looked between the both of them in confusion, and her body swayed some. Chuck moved quickly, taking a stronger hold on her to prevent anymore falling. She steadied herself by leaning against his chest. Her pretty porcelain skin was flushed, likely from both alcohol and embarrassment.
"How much has she had to drink?" Chuck questioned, looking not to her, but instead her ladies in waiting. They all stared back at him with wide, fearful eyes.
"Have you partaken in too much fun tonight that you all forgot your duties? What per say do you think happens to a Lady's ladies in waiting if she is hurt on their watch?" he beckoned, voice rising with each word. The rest of the room had fell silent, musicians and men alike.
A few of the girls began to tremble, still too terror-stricken to speak.
Chuck scoffed, turning away from them, and throwing up his hand to signify their dismissal.
"Just get out of here, you're of no use to me or anyone else tonight—clearly."
"Ye—Yes, your highness," the girls stuttered, voices overlapping one another. They quickly dismissed themselves, knowing better than to linger round when the prince's temper started up.
The other men in the room watched the ladies go, sighing offhandedly with disappointment. The majority of the female entertainment for the evening had gone now. It wouldn't be long before they too began to shuffle out. It was evident with how overprotective the prince was of Lady Blair that neither would be continuing on in the evening's festivities.
Chuck looked from Blair to his friend still beside him. "Would you have the servants fetch some water for her?" he asked, concern still clear in his voice.
Nate's blue eyes softened as he looked from Chuck to the still seemingly overwhelmed Blair. "There is no need, your highness. I can fetch some from the table for her," he explained. He walked back to where they'd been partying before and filled an empty cup with water. Then he brought it back to Chuck, looking down at Blair again.
Chuck took the cup, putting it to Blair's lips, and purring to her in a soothing sort of voice. "Come on, pretty. Have some water for me," he beckoned.
Blair frowned, pursing her lips, but she was responsive to him at least. Slowly her eyes fluttered open, staring into his. "Chuck? Chuck, I think I drank too much of the wine tonight," she murmured.
Both Nate and Chuck laughed at this comment.
"I'd say, though she is a lot less wicked seeming like this," Nate commented, keeping his voice low. Chuck, who heard it, shot him a look.
"Can you stand and drink some water, Blair?" Chuck asked again, tucking a curl behind her ear. She nodded slowly, grasping onto his shirt as she steadied herself into more of a standing position. She then went to take the cup, but instead found Chuck assisting her in taking a sip. She smiled softly at him as she swallowed a large gulp of water. Chuck didn't need to look at Nathaniel, he could feel his smirk and raised brow from behind. He'd let it go…for now.
Blair took another sip, then looking around at the now empty room with a frown. "Where did everyone go?" she asked.
"His royal highness scared them off with his… concern for you," Nate responded, patting Chuck on the back. "He caused quite the commotion for you, Lady Blair."
Blair looked quizzically from Nate to Chuck. "I am alright. I just got a little dizzy is all. If I stop drinking I could carry on—"
"I think that's enough excitement for tonight, sweetheart. A bath and some sleep would be best for you," Chuck interrupted, speaking considerately to her, but also sternly.
"That would cue my exit then," Nate mused, nodding to Blair and bowing to Chuck. "Goodnight, your Highness, Lady Blair."
"Goodnight, Nathaniel. Thank you for your help. It was-unexpected," Chuck returned, giving him a nod. His friend had pleasantly surprised him after all. Despite whatever feelings Nate had towards Blair, he had been at Chuck's side when he needed him.
Once Nathaniel had gone, the room fell silent.
"I am sorry if I ended your fun," Blair apologized, still sounding a tad drunk.
Chuck smirked at her, shaking his head. "You are my fun, Waldorf. Now come on, let's get you to bed."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Blair stared across the great dining hall table at Chuck, who was smirking back at her. They had dined with the King, Thomas, and his mother tonight, as well as other high esteemed members of court. Due to this they couldn't carry on as openly with their usual behavior. So instead of next to one another, they sat across from each other, and played footsy for the majority of the night. She had done this partly because well she enjoyed it, and also to try and keep Chuck in good spirits despite having to see her next to Thomas all evening. Speaking of, her fiancé had excused him from the table quite a while ago, and had yet to return. He'd even missed the king and duchess retiring for the evening, likely off to discuss plans for the rapidly approaching nuptials.
Chuck brought his glass of wine to his lips, drinking it, as his eyes raked over Blair in a sultry manner. She blushed some, practically feeling his body heat radiate off him from across the table. She'd never had a man be so open and physically responsive to her looks before. It was nothing short of enthralling if she was being honest with herself, especially with said attention coming from a prince.
'Tonight?' Blair mouthed to him, being careful to peer around and make sure no one else was paying enough attention to read her lips.
Chuck nodded, his eyes darkening with want. He looked as if he wanted to fly across the table, and take her right there, in front of everyone. She didn't doubt were it not for the ramifications from his father, he would. He smirked, looking as if he was going to say something, but was ultimately intersected.
Blair sighed as the chair beside her was pulled out, and Thomas returned to his seat. Begrudgingly she took her eyes off Chuck, knowing in public she must greet her fiancé.
"Thomas," she nodded, not hiding the disappointment in her voice very well. She barely looked at him before slouching back in her chair, eyes falling to the table. There wouldn't be any mischief or fun now. She heard someone else return to the table, but didn't bother to look up.
"Nathaniel, where have you been?" Chuck's voice intruded in on her thoughts. Apparently Nate had joined them.
"Oh I was just excusing myself for some air, your highness. Though, I saw quite the sight upon my return…" Nate's voice slowed. "Lord Thomas Gray, was that you getting into a scuffle with Lord Baizen? I dare say I've never seen you so heated, I though I may have seen you shove him?" Nate spoke up rather loudly, clearly wanting at least one other at the table to hear him. The blonde gave Thomas a boyish grin, sitting back in his chair as if his work were finished. Nate didn't look at Chuck or Blair, but it was apparent the conversation was intended for their ears.
Blair looked from Nate, to Thomas, to Chuck. She watched as Chuck quirked his brow, looking from his best friend to her fiancé. It was evident the prince wanted an answer to Nate's question as well. He leaned forward, as if preparing to speak if Thomas didn't. Blair was actually curious for a response as well. She had never even seen Thomas angry; he didn't seem capable of violence, even small scaled.
Thomas stared down at the table and at his hand, which was currently clenching it. He was more stiff than usual, dare Blair think it, but he did actually look mad? At least, she assumed it to be anger, for she hadn't ever seen Thomas's version of it before. Apparently, it made him even more wound up than usual. He lifted his eyes from the table, and she found them looking into her own. His expression was a strange one. He looked vexed, yet apologetic. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interfered before she could get a word out.
"Thomas, did you push Carter? Chuck asked, rather informally. Blair's eyes flickered to him, and she noted he was now looking between her and Thomas.
Thomas looked from Blair to Chuck, removing his hands from the table and placing them in his lap. He took a deep breath. "Forgive me, your Highness, but I must admit I indeed did give lord Baizen a bit of a shove. I let my temper get the better of me," he sighed.
"Your temper? And here I was beginning to think you didn't have one," Nate cut in, chuckling to himself some. Blair rolled her eyes, and Chuck held up his hand, silencing his friend. He continued to stare at Thomas, making it clear he wanted more information.
"How exactly did Lord Baizen anger you so, Thomas? Perhaps something he said?" Chuck's lips curled up into a bit of a smirk. It was palpable he was now poking fun at the other man too, not to mention disregarding Thomas's title every time he addressed him.
Thomas nodded, "Yes, your highness. You could say that."
"Well? What was it he said then?" Chuck prompted. Blair could tell by his tone that the prince was starting to lose his patience with her fiancé.
"I of course can disclose it to his highness, but I would rather refrain from saying it now around certain audiences," Thomas clarified, glancing at Blair again.
She frowned at him. What did he have to say that he couldn't say in front of her? She scoffed, "Anything you can say in front of them you can say in front of me. I am not some delicate English flower." She heard Chuck and Nate both snicker at this, but she kept her glare focused on Thomas.
"Of course not, Lady Blair. I did not mean to insult you. I had only wished to stop others from doing so," Thomas explained, looking heartbroken by her irritation with him.
Blair furrowed her brow, further perplexed by his statement. What would Lord Baizen have to say about her that would insult her? So much so that Thomas felt the need to defend her honor, no less. She was about to press further on the subject, when she was reminded of Chuck's presence at the table.
"He insulted Blair?" Chuck asked, his voice now much tenser than before. Blair's eyes widened at his informal address of her. She wondered if Thomas had noticed through all his nerves.
"Umm… yes, he said some things about Lady Blair, untruths I simply could not stand for. Though I still apologize profusely to his highness for my lack of discipline and restraint while in his court. I should have known better than to—"
"What did he say about her?" Chuck adjourned. He was sitting up in his seat now, staring down at the other man. He had remained calm, but anyone who really knew him could see the ultimate change in his demeanor. There was something dark brewing beneath his skin, something not good for someone—likely Lord Baizen.
Thomas seemed to struggle with his words, undeniably still not wanting to repeat what was said in front of Blair. However, he apparently could also see it was not the time to refuse to answer the prince's question for a second time. He cleared his throat.
"I—well, I overheard Lord Baizen spreading rumors and lies about Lady Blair. He implied that she was sent here by the King of France to conspire with Lord Draven to rid England of its prince, ergo your highness. And—well, he insinuated that she was not seen innocently conversing with him in the library, but using means of persuasion on him. Which of course, your highness knows is not true—"
"What means of persuasion did he refer to exactly?" Chuck was gritting his teeth now as he spoke.
Blair suddenly felt hot, and uneasy at where the nature of the conversation was headed. Perhaps Thomas had been right, and she'd been better off not knowing. Inwardly, she shook her head. No, she must always know what she was up against, lies at court included. She braced herself to hear the rest as Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Things one should not accuse a Lady such as Lady Blair of, your highness. Things of a crude nature—"
"Like?" Chuck furthered, each word sounding sharper on his tongue than the one before.
Thomas's eyes fell to the floor. He perhaps wanted the conversation to end even more than Blair did. He looked physically ill, honestly.
"Like things that beckon her to be bent down, on one's knees," Thomas spoke, much quieter than before. He shook his head. "It is not only an abhorrent lie, but an insult to her honor—"
Chuck interrupted Thomas again, but this time to address one of his guards. He called the man over, speaking something quietly, but sternly into his ear. Blair tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept his gaze on the guard. Blair watched as said guard approached a few others and then they swiftly made their way across the room. She heard some commotion, and a man shouting that sounded an awful lot like Lord Baizen. All was soon confirmed as she watched the small group of guards physically remove Carter from the court. It caused quite the scene, as he decided to scream whilst being dragged off. The room suddenly erupted in whispers. She quickly looked away from it all, hoping she wouldn't instantly be linked to it. Unfortunately she knew her efforts would likely be mute.
"Your highness, do you mean to—"
"Do not concern yourself with what I mean to do, Thomas. Just know as the prince my efforts extend a little further than boyish violence," Chuck concluded. He then shifted his gaze from Thomas to Blair.
"Lord Biazen, or anyone for that matter, will not get away with insulting the future q—princess of England. Doing so insults the crown, and it will not be stood for, but dealt with accordingly."
"Of course, your highness," Thomas murmured.
Blair stared into Chuck's eyes as his words sunk in. He was basically taking a public stand for her, whether her dull fiancé realized it or not. She wasn't sure exactly what he planned to do to Carter in retaliation, but she knew the look in his eyes, and it wouldn't be anything good. The Royal family seemed to have a certain taste for blood, and hunger for violence. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wondered once word got round of what truly happened, and what would happen, how it would all play into the whispers of court and her ever diminishing reputation. She stood, not wanting to have to put on any kind of charade anymore that night.
"Blair?" Chuck's voice stopped her, and her eyes found his. He had addressed her so informally again. What had gotten into him?
"Yes, your highness?" she asked, her voice wavering some. She felt Thomas and Nate's eyes upon her as well, but her eyes remained locked with Chuck's.
Chuck made a face when she used his title, but in public he would have to let it slide. "Where is it you're going?" he asked.
"I suddenly do not feel so well. Please forgive me for trying to leave so rudely, but I must return to my chambers. I do not wish to remain here," she explained, her voice sounding hoarse again. She really did need to get out of that room, away from the ever-prying eyes of court. She'd had her fill of it all tonight.
"May I go?" she asked, begging him with her eyes.
Chuck nodded, "Of course, Lady Blair. Just allow the guards to assure you get back safely." He motioned to them, and they appeared obediently behind her. Blair nodded, bowing her head to him. She knew he'd likely be following her not long after her departure. She turned to leave, but felt someone grab her. Shortly after, she realized it was Thomas.
"Are you alright, darling?" Thomas asked. His voice held concern, as he gently held her hand. She stared down at it, and then up at him, but the whole time she felt Chuck's eyes burning into her back. She knew Thomas touching her at all particularly displeased him. Her lips parted to respond, but she did not get the chance.
"She said she wanted to leave. So let her," Chuck sounded, hidden threats layered in his tone. Blair looked from Thomas to Chuck, doe brown eyes widened.
Thomas stared at the prince for a moment, not immediately obeying him. He kept his hold on Blair's hand, and she felt his grasp tighten for a moment, before ultimately letting go. She pulled her hand to her chest, and nodded to him.
"Excuse me. I must go," she repeated, turning on her heel quicker than before. She needed to get out of there. Not only did all that had happened overwhelm her, but also it felt as if things were beginning to grow a little more tense between Chuck and Thomas. The prince was becoming more and more brazen in regards to her, and his feelings for her. It was almost as if he didn't care who knew it anymore, save the king.
She hurried into her bedchambers, closing the door behind her. Thankfully none of her ladies in waiting had returned for the evening yet. Her prayers for much needed solitude had been answered. She sighed in relief, falling down onto the bed, and staring up at the ceiling.
Everything was happening so fast, and the quicker time moved, the more intense it all became. The wedding to the King and her future mother-in-law was hastily approaching. And even though it was not her own wedding, once it happened, things would change. Hell, things were already changing, and she wasn't sure they were all for the good—for her good. She closed her eyes, biting down hard on her bottom lip. She was searching her head for what to do next, what to even think next, when all thoughts promptly ceased.
A strong knock sounded at her door.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you're reading, please let me know! I'm genuinely curious to know whose still out there reading Chair fanfics. Also the next chapter will be Bart's wedding to the Duchess! So stay tuned!