THE ROYAL AFFAIR
Chapter Twenty-Five:
THE PREDATOR AND THE POET
"The long love that in my thought doth harbor
And in mine heart doth keep his residence,
Into my face presseth with bold pretence
And therein campeth, spreading his banner.
She that me learneth to love and suffer
And will that my trust and lusts negligence
By reined by reason, shame, and reverence,
With his hardness taketh displeasure.
Wherewithall unto the heart's forest he fleeth,
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry,
And there him hideth and no appeareth.
What may I do when my master feareth
But in the field with him to live and die?
For good is the life ending faithfully."
"So what the fuck exactly does that all mean?" Nate followed up, staring quizzically across the room at the servant, Daniel Humphrey. He had just read one of Master Wyatt's poems for Nate and the prince, and evidently one of them did not intend to sit and ponder it for a moment before proceeding into follow up questions.
Dan stared back at the man, not because he didn't know the answer, but because he was taken aback by the crudeness of his statement, seconds after such a beautiful piece of literary art had been read for them.
"Go on, Humphrey. You're the man whose all about this; so explain it," the third man concluded, that man being the prince. The servant's gaze shifted to him immediately, and he bowed his head as if to signal he would proceed.
"Of course, your highness. You see, this particular sonnet is actually modeled on a Petrarchan original—"
"So the wretch doesn't even write his own ghastly poems?" Nate interrupted, scoffing a laugh. Dan struggled not to glare at him for the statement, but instead shifted his weight back and forth uncomfortably.
He cleared his throat.
"Not exactly. But as I was saying, this sonnet uses military imagery to describe love," Dan elaborated, looking back and forth between the two men. The prince remained silent, but he could tell Duke Archibald had more questions, or perhaps comments.
"Military and love? Something tells me this Wyatt fellow has never been to war, or even to battle for that matter," Nate retorted, clearly passing further judgement.
"Well, in this poem Wyatt paints the picture by describing how love sets up camp in his face, but being restrained by a woman—one who rejects his loving and lustful advances-he, Wyatt, flees to the 'forest' of his heart, hiding there," Dan explains further, trying to gauge the prince for some kind of reaction.
Chuck stayed still, quiet; eyes only shifting about the room between the two men every so often. The other men didn't know this of course, but he was trying his best to stay calm, keep a steady mind, as only then would he take everything in and interpret it as best he could. Still, it wasn't exactly his ideal evening. He looked back up at his secretary, realizing he hadn't continued speaking.
"Does your interpretation end there? He hides within his heart and gives up?" he questioned, one dark brow raised higher than the other. Secretary Humphrey shook his head, pulling his large book closer to his chest and looking down before he spoke again.
"No, your highness. Wyatt decides to set out into the 'field' with love again; and to join in battle there—in other words, to be bold and reveal his love to the mistress he speaks of. A sort of no guts, no glory kind of attitude, if you will," Dan concludes, looking to Duke Archibald as if he expected him in particular to understand such an analogy.
"And it ends without telling you who wins? Not much of a battle story, or a romance for that matter," Nate muttered, giving his final judgement of it to the room. The other men weren't sure if he had really disliked the poem all that much, or if this was partly, if not all just a show for the prince to further prove his undying allegiance and friendship to him.
"Is that how it ends?" Chuck furthered, looking to his servant for further confirmation.
"Yes, your highness," Dan nodded. "But Wyatt is sort of known for writing about his love escapades, and some readers suspect most are about one maiden in particular. Other than that he mostly pokes fun at social hierarchies and such ways of court—"
"And are you of that thought process, Mister Humphrey?" Chuck cut in, silencing his servant the moment he spoke.
"Of what thought process, your highness?" Dan returned, wanting to make sure he gave the right answer as the prince seemed a little more worked up than before, though why he did not know.
"That he writes mostly about one maiden in particular?" the prince clarified, moving closer to him, the large blaze of the fire casting an orange tinted shadow over half of his face. Though in a way, it almost appeared to have come from within him.
"Umm—well, ye—yes, your highness. Though in fairness I think all writers, if not all artists, are the way they are if not to try and find a way to cope from a great love they've either lost or never been able to fully reach," Dan told him, thoughtfully, almost as if he spoke from experience.
"I see," Chuck returned, going still again, as if made from stone. The other two men in the room began to look him over, each for their own reasons. Duke Archibald was the first to speak, of course.
"Would you like anymore poem interpretations, your Highness? Or would you like to dismiss Mister Humphrey for now so that we may converse among ourselves?" Nate suggested, obviously wanting to clear the room.
Chuck didn't respond initially, instead just gazing forward, into the fire as it crackled and popped. His jaw was clenched, his composure made him appear on edge, and both hands were balled into fists whether he had realized this or not.
"Your highness?" Nate repeated.
"Fine then!" Chuck yelled back, eyes widening as if his own yelling alas broke him from the daze he'd previously been lost in. He rocked back and forth some, then steadied his body, and lowered his tone.
"Yes, Mister Humphrey, please tend to your other duties… for now… though I may call on you again, and—and I'd like to keep your catalogue of Master Wyatt's works."
The servant could tell the prince wasn't asking him permission and yet he seemed to momentarily struggle to agree, clearly the literary pieces were something he treasured. Yet, he had no choice, and everyone in the room knew it.
"Of course, your highness. Keep them as long as you'd like. What's mine is yours," Dan offered, bowing his head, and preparing to take his leave.
Nate chuckled at this, muttering something surely condescending under his breath. Both Chuck and Dan ignored him, though Chuck did this better, seeming to not notice at all.
"You may go now, Mister Humphrey. And speak of this to no one, for now," the prince ordered.
"Yes, your highness." Dan gave a final bow and then exited the room with haste, sensing something off about the prince—and even more than usual. He tried to shake this feeling as he walked away, but he couldn't help, but wonder why the prince had such a sudden interest in an up and coming English poet, and had chose to enlist his own help in it, no less. It was peculiar, to say the least.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
"So what do you think of it?" Chuck asked, breaking the silence once Nathaniel and him had been left alone. He was glad the servant had gone so now he could discuss it freely. However, his new secretary had proved plenty useful to him in such a short amount of time. He had never understood his father's speeches about a castle and king's need for them, but perhaps now he was starting to.
"Oh? It's awful, ghastly really!" Nate proclaimed in response, shaking his head. "I see now why they call them struggling artist. They didn't mean financially," he jested further.
Chuck rolled his eyes, scoffing at the comment.
"I did not mean your opinion on the quality of his worth, Nathaniel. I meant what you think about the—you know—connection it may have?" he furthered, explaining what he really meant. Nate was one of the few people whose opinion could hold some weight here, and at the moment he felt ready to hear it.
"Oh… you mean that part," Nate replied, much softer and with less excitement than before.
"Yes, that part. Do you think it's about her?" Chuck returned.
"That's hard to say. It wasn't exactly a literal or physical description of her. I mean going by that he could be talking about a man for all we know. With that kind of writing he might be, honestly," Nate answered, still doing all he could to keep the situation some what light. He knew about his best friend's temper better than anyone after all, and he didn't want to be the one to trigger it.
"Something tells me he isn't," Chuck remarked swiftly, shaking his head. He stared forward into the fire, right past his friend's head. He had a sot of feeling in his stomach, and it felt telling. He instantly hated it.
"Even if it is about her, does it matter?" Nate spoke up suddenly.
Chuck's eyes darted from the fireplace back to his friend's. He furrowed his brow, pursing his lips.
"What do you mean, does it matter?" he retorted. Was it not obvious to his friend that it did?
Nate shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.
"Lots of people are lusted after, so one who lusted after her wrote about it? Not much of a difference. As long as he didn't put his little cock between her legs and you were there first-"
"Nathaniel," Chuck cut him off, speaking through his teeth. He touched a hand to his head, feeling a pain coming on.
"Speak less crude, please." By the tone of his voice he figured his friend would know it wasn't really a request, but an order.
"Apologies, your highness. I am trying to make you feel better, you see. All I'm saying is if you were certain you were the first to have her, then nothing else means anything. Even if she had… feelings for him, and even if they remained, it wouldn't matter. You know who you are. You're the prince and heir to all of England. Now that you've marked your territory someone of his ranking couldn't have her if he tried," Nate explained.
"So essentially you're saying she's stuck with me whether she wants to be or not," Chuck scoffed, clearly missing the point of it. Or perhaps he just didn't agree with it.
"No, your highness. That is not what I—"
"Never matter. I suppose I have more reading in my future to better fully assess everything," Chuck sighed, interrupting his friend before he could explain any further. This conversation wasn't going how he wanted it to; though to be fair it was rather doomed from the start.
"Well that sounds just terrible," Nate joked, picking up on the prince's mood and trying to yet again find a way to make light of the situation. Only it was then his jest was intruded upon by his own thoughts. An idea struck him, so quickly he could not think to even pause before speaking it aloud.
"There's always a quicker way." Nate wondered if he should regret the words right after they were spoken. He watched as the prince's head cocked up in a different way than it had before, his eyes looking seemingly darker now.
"You don't mean to suggest—"
"Perhaps, I shouldn't have, your highness. My apologies if it offended you. I only know your resources at calling anyone to court and for a moment thought things might be easier were you to just ask Wyatt himself," Nate bumbled. Even as he spoke, he knew each word sounded worse than the rest. This wasn't a good idea. He knew Chuck too well. And yet he couldn't stop himself. It was too late now anyways. He could see it in his friend's eyes. Chuck had turned away from him now, but Nate could still see his face. He looked less tense than before, and had formed a sort of half smirk as he seemed to ponder over something.
"Your highness?" Nate asked, hoping to pull him from whatever dark thoughts he had conjured.
Chuck looked up, his half smirk now a full one.
"Nathaniel, I think that might be the best idea you've had in a while. Though I don't think we must order him to court. A simple invitation would do, give less cause for question on his part. It would cause less fuss too, which I'd like to definitely avoid. I would prefer very few, to no one important know of his coming before he arrives. If you understand what I mean by that," the prince implied, nodding his head knowingly.
"Yes, your highness. I understand. You would like me to see this done then?" Nate accepted. Whether he thought it was a bad idea or not now, it didn't matter. He wasn't going to fight what Chuck wanted, not when he had that look in his eyes.
Chuck nodded, "Yes, I would only entrust something like this to you."
Nate couldn't help, but feel somewhat flattered. He had worried for a little while if their friendship was feigning, but today had more than confirmed that was not the case. Nate definitely still had his place in the prince's life, and it was an important one at that.
"Of course, your highness. And I shall see it through as always. But I must ask, what if for whatever reason this Wyatt fellow will not accept any invitation to court? By that I mean what measures am I to take with this particular mission, if needed?" Nate furthered, wanting to clarify. It was a conversation they'd had before, the players always different, but the game mostly the same.
Chuck sort of chuckled, shaking his head.
"Then you are to again present him with an invitation, but one that he cannot refuse," he explained, the implications more than clear between friends.
Nate nodded, "Understood. I will see it done, your highness. You may always entrust in me, and you can always count on me. I hope you know that."
Chuck's smirk softened into more of a smile and he stepped towards Nate, touching a hand to his shoulder.
"I know both those things to be true, Nathaniel. You are one of the very few people I would entrust with my life if it came down to it," he revealed. It was a rare compliment, for any was from the prince, regardless of who it was aimed towards.
Nate grinned, unable to speak for a moment. Then he cleared this throat.
"Thank you, your highness."
Chuck let go of Nate's shoulder and walked past him, stopping to look up at the large doors that lead out of the office.
"Now come, Nathaniel. Let us go and leave this conversation within these walls," he concluded. Nate followed suit immediately, hurrying over to the doors and giving them a couple loud pounds of his fist. They opened immediately in response, the guards on the other end quick to perform their duties. He stepped aside to allow his highness to go before him, which of course Chuck did.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
Blair watched as Serena spun around in circles joyously, taking over the dance floor, and all the attention around her. She couldn't blame her friend for resorting to such means of amusement though as it had been a while since they'd arrived, and their usual escorts were still nowhere to be found. She had tried asking a few people where the prince was, mostly familiar guards, but to no avail. They all mimicked the same response about official royal business back to her, and him not needing to be bothered. Finally she'd given up in asking, and had a few glasses of wine, per Serena's pushing. Now on her fourth she felt a warmness in her belly, and could sense a natural rosiness forming on her cheeks. She had half the mind to join Serena on the dance floor, but a part of her still had a feeling the moment she did the prince would arrive in search of her. So instead she remained up at their usual table, by the thrones. No one questioned her of course, even with Chuck being absent.
"Would you like more wine, my lady?" a voice asked.
Blair looked up, her eyes met with ones unfamiliar to her, or so she thought. She quirked her head, looking him over. He didn't appear to be a servant baring a wine pourer.
"Depends, whose wanting to know," Blair returned. She glanced back to the dance floor to see if Serena was soon to return, but could see it was quite the opposite. Instead it appeared the blonde had made friends with not one, but two gentlemen now obviously fighting for her attention.
"Just someone who noticed a lady's cup was empty in passing is all," he responded, smiling at her. It was then she became less positive that she hadn't seen him before. There was something familiar about his smile, and his eyes. She began to look him over more, making note of his appearance. He was older than Chuck, but not as old as the king. So not a young man, but not an old one either. He was taller, more slender, and had a nice jawline. His hair was dark, but the parts around his ears had some silver to it. It didn't look bad though, by all means he was an attractive man.
"Do you want some wine, Blair?" he asked more forthright this time.
"Have we met before?" she responded, frowning at him.
He smirked, nodding his head as he took a seat beside her. She was shocked by how forward he was; not to mention so unafraid to sit somewhere he likely had no business being. She could only wonder what Chuck would have to say about it.
'We have, but it was very brief, and you were new to court. I'm sure all this was a lot for you to take in, especially with my nephew overwhelming you in his special way," he revealed. He didn't seem the least bit nervous in his movements or speech.
"Your nephew?" Blair questioned, feeling her face flush from the wine and confusion.
He chuckled, "Yes, my nephew. One who has apparently supplied you with far too much wine tonight. From what I hear you're a very clever girl, and I suspect were you not intoxicated you would better recall our last meeting. Perhaps it would help if I spoke your native tongue to you instead?" He was teasing her now, and in a way that felt oddly familiar.
"I do just fine with English, thank you," she retorted defensively.
"Yes, more than fine from what I hear," he returned with a sinister sort of twinkle in his eyes.
She glared at him. "I don't take kindly to someone—"
"Now, now, ma Cherie, don't get upset. I'm not here to trouble you, not tonight at least. You see I've just returned to court. And luckily for me I've arrived before my brother has returned, which has given me time to peruse the grounds, learn the gossip, and so on. It would appear things have gotten quite interesting here at the English court, and with many thanks to you. You and your…. Friendship with my nephew has caused quite the stir," the man interrupted her, explaining it all with an amused sounding tone. He reached across her, picking up a canter of wine and pouring them each a glass. Then he shook his head at her, flashing another devilish grin.
"Tell me now, do you know who I am? I've heard you are not a stupid girl, despite your young age and your ability to make yourself look oh so naïve in times most convenient for you," he furthered. His voice sounded as if he only meant to tease, and yet he still had a way of making his words feel more like taunts towards her.
She bit her bottom lip, feeling all the blood rush to her head and warm her cheeks. The amount of wine she'd had was a definite mistake. She'd let her guard down, not realizing there would be a new opponent in the game tonight.
His lips tugged up into another smug looking smile and he took a drink of his wine before leaning in to whisper in her ear.
"I'll give you a hint if you smile at me." He pulled back slowly, chuckling as if he didn't care whether she fulfilled his request or not. Blair had no intentions to smile. She parted her lips to try and give him a confident, and hopefully final warning, but she never got the chance.
"Uncle Jack?"
Blair's eyes darted forward, and she instantly turned her body in the direction of the new voice. Her eyes met Chuck's dark ones, which were definitely fixated on her despite him speaking to someone else. Wait—he had called the man uncle. She turned back to look at the older man beside her, suddenly her memory much clearer than before. She'd indeed met him already, albeit brief. He was Chuck's uncle, and a royal.
"Nephew! Just the person I was looking for! How delighted I was to arrive this evening and find I could have some time with you without his majesty's watchful eye upon us!" Jack bellowed joyously, rising from his seat and approaching Chuck. He put his arms around him, pulling him in for a brief hug before pushing the prince back as if he wanted to get a better look at him.
"I didn't realize you were coming back to court," Chuck replied, eyes shifting back and fourth from Jack to Blair. He seemed to be attempting somewhat of pleasantries towards his uncle, but something told her this was not extended towards her too.
"Of course! You didn't think I'd miss a royal wedding, did you?" Jack returned. He then chuckled looking from Chuck, to Blair. "Meaning my brother's of course. Though I hear your wedding date is to be set soon too, Lady Blair, is it?" His voice went up, as if he was genuinely questioning her name. Unlikely, considering all the information he'd previously divulged to her moments before Chuck had arrived.
"We shall see how things go," Chuck answered for her, taking back his uncle's attention. "So you only came for the wedding then? Not to plead a case for Draven?"
Blair's eyes widened some, as more dawned on her in that moment. Jack was also the father of Draven, who happened to be not only Chuck's cousin, but stand accused of attempting murder on the prince. Last she'd heard he'd been taken to the tower to wait trial, and not much had happened since then. The King had said an investigation had began and a case would be built, but she was careful to seek insight on it as it seemed to be a sensitive subject with Chuck. It was evident it was not something he wanted her involved in, and to be honest she didn't see how it could help her own objectives very much to disobey him. Sure, she felt bad for Sir Draven, for in their small conversation he didn't seem to have such a motive, but for all she knew he'd done it, and would do it again if given the chance. It was hard to ever truly know a person, especially one you'd only met once.
"That bastard whose only ever given me trouble? Hadn't thought about it really since I'd received your father's letter about it. Though I suppose he must apologize for him, did he try and truly kill my favorite nephew," Jack jested, his voice bringing Blair back from her thoughts.
"You mean your only nephew," Chuck returned, and Blair saw what she thought was actually somewhat of a smile directed towards his uncle.
"Fine, my favorite family member then," Jack corrected.
"I see you met Lady Blair," the prince pointed out, eyes darting back towards her as if he was trying to decipher something from her body language.
"I did indeed. I must say she's a great conversationalist. I found myself instantly captivated by her charm. No wonder your father sees her as a good foreign asset to the throne," Jack complimented. Though Blair wasn't so sure about the true nature or intent behind such flattery. She wasn't certain about this man in general. He gave her in an odd feeling, to say the least.
"Yes," Chuck said slowly, eyes connecting with Blair's once more. He wasn't smiling at her as he spoke. "She can be very charming, indeed." Despite seeming to agree he didn't look too happy about that fact in the current moment.
"Well nephew, I could have told you of my own tales of French women, had you only asked," Jack jested. And there it was to an extent, his ability to freely speak of her as if she wasn't even there to hear it. Yet that was an unfortunately common trait most men possessed; so she still felt there was something more to it, her true anxious feeling.
"Join us for a drink then, uncle. You know how much I've always enjoyed your stories when you come to visit," Chuck invited, motioning his hand out to their table. Blair wished he hadn't, but there was no way she could say that now without Jack hearing. So she remained in her seat, quiet, unsure. She watched as both men came around the table from opposite ends, each sitting beside her, making her the person in the middle of them and the conversation. She had hoped they wouldn't sit this way, as the room was loud, and it would call for everyone to sit very close were they to hear one another.
"So your wound healed then?" Jack asked rather forwardly, looking at Chuck as he nodded down towards his leg.
"Oh yes, for the most part. I'm not exactly as I was before, but I can ride again, and still hunt. The most important fact being—well, I'm not dead," Chuck answered back, sort of half chuckling as he motioned to a servant for a glass of wine.
"Yes, thank heavens for that," Jack returned.
Blair watched him as he said this, and felt something did not add up. Somehow his words didn't fit his tone of voice, or the way his eyes looked when he said it. She turned to see if Chuck had noticed, but he had not. Instead he seemed to be staring directly at her again, his left brow quirked and his lips sort of pursed. So she frowned back at him, not in a way to show she was angry; but rather confused by his harsh looks, directed towards apparently only her.
"You know, Lady Blair, all the rumors I heard about your beauty honestly did not do you justice," Jack interrupted their moment.
Blair instantly turned back towards him at the mention of her name. Surprised he was suddenly including her in on the conversation again, and directly for that matter. As for where he could possibly be going with this she wasn't certain. So with Chuck near, she kept her cool, and merely looked back at him without a word. And so he continued on.
"Seeing you now in person I can see why so many English maidens at court aren't fond of you twirling in here and stealing the show. It's a pity though, as from what I know of your fiancé that beautiful fire in you will surely go to waste. Not that you couldn't still do worse," he finished with a chuckle.
Blair waited for a moment, expecting Chuck to chime in, but when he did not figured he wished for her to speak up.
"Well your Grace, like most women I am not given personal choice of my husband. No one ever asked my opinion of him, before or after he was presented to me. To be honest I do not know much of him though, so I do not think much of him," Blair told him, shrugging her shoulders as if to hopefully shrug off the subject too. She knew it was one Chuck wasn't particularly fond of.
"Please call me Jack. I hate titles, they're so dull. Plus, unless you're the King all the rest don't really matter. We're all the same, he's the only one any different, worth anymore than the rest of us," Jack explained.
There, she saw it, an opportunity to turn the conversation a different direction.
"Something I wouldn't expect the brother of a King to say. Surely that has it's benefits," Blair rejoined, actually surprised by his thoughts on the matter.
Jack smirked, his eyes seeming to light up more at this. He then raised his cup of wine in her direction, nodding his head.
"I must admit, that it does. But my opinion over all on the matter remains the same. You however, don't exactly speak in ways I'd expect you too either." He paused, his eyes raking over all of her, up down, and up and down again, before he continued on. "You're one of those girls that when you get them away from others you've actually got a mind of your own you can speak from; another gift that will be wasted on your future husband," he finished as if to darkly joke.
His eyes drifted downward again and she wondered how he could feel it alright to so openly gape at her chest area. Her eyes widened when she felt something cold touch her neck area, above her chest. She looked down to see it was his fingertips.
"That's a very beautiful looking necklace, very expensive too, and antique. I swear I've seen it before," Jack said, eyes now fixated on it.
This didn't make her feel anymore comfortable, he was so close, and now touching her. She had frozen in response to this, right there in her seat. She had to think about breathing to even be able to do it. And then she felt another touch, only this one wasn't cold, but warm, and on her leg. She looked down to see Chuck had grabbed hold of her thigh, grasping it tightly enough one could make out the shape just by looking at it. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but past her, at Jack now.
"I gave them to her, uncle. As a gift," Chuck clarified, not removing his hand. Blair didn't mind if it stayed there, as Jack removed his in response.
"I see. Honest apologies, nephew. I understand now," Jack answered, reaching for his glass and raising it to Chuck this time.
"Good. It is a great thing to all be on the same page. Now, uncle Jack, if you'll excuse Lady Blair it is time she be off to her quarters for the evening," Chuck announced.
This took Blair by surprise as she hadn't seen him all day to begin with. Was he going to leave shortly and join her?
"Nathaniel! Come escort Lady Blair to her room for the night, would you?" Chuck called out. It wasn't really a question, but rather an order. Nate jumped to this instantly, appearing before them, but looking some surprised by their company when he got there.
"Your grace, I see you've returned," Nate greeted, bowing his head in Jack's direction.
"Nathaniel," Jack returned. "I hear your father did an excellent job with my bastard's investigation. Tell me, did you lend a hand in it?" he furthered.
Nate's back seemed to stiffen at this, and he crossed his arms as if to readjust his stance.
"I did, but the investigation isn't over. Hence why there hasn't been a trial yet," Nate returned shortly.
"Whatever for? You don't think he did it? Or is it your father?" Jack questioned.
"The investigation continues by request of the king, your Grace. Seeing as he is your brother I am sure he would enlighten you on whatever you wish when his majesty returns," Nate responded, seeming to smile some because of this.
Jack scoffed, "Yes, of course. Bright idea, Duke Archibald."
"This kind of conversation bores me," Chuck intercepted. "Let us turn toward another kind. But first, Nathaniel, as you were escort Blair back to her quarters."
"Of course," Nate obliged, extending his hand out to offer it to her.
Blair remained in her seat for a few moments more though, making eye contact with Chuck. She didn't understand why she was being put to bed early. Was it just because his uncle arrived? If so he had terrible timing as Chuck had not been with her all day. Not to mention there was a banquet going on tonight, which would surely run late, and Serena would be at till dawn.
"I've said where I intend you to go more than twice now, I shall not speak it a third time. Do as I will, Blair," Chuck told her, voice cold; he was clearly unmoved.
She pouted her lips, sighing in an exasperated sigh before getting up from her chair in a huff. She then stomped right past Nate, slapping his hand away in the process. She heard Jack's bellowing laughter as she left, and Nate's heavy footsteps hurrying along behind her.
She didn't care if he followed her. Let him waste his time. There wasn't any need. She was indeed returning to her chambers and not because Chuck could literally force her and lock her there if he so wished, but because she desired no better place to be now. She was irritated by the evening to say in the very least. So she used that anger to quicken her pace and storm forward, not looking at anyone or anything, until she looked up and saw the entrance to her royal apartment.
"Lady Blair, you will wait for me to see you in. It was not I who ordered you back here, and I will not have this childish behavior like the prince will!" Nate exclaimed, running up behind her. Despite being one of the better in shape men at court, it seemed she had gotten him a little more than exasperated.
She spun around, glaring at him. She was ready for a fight now, now that someone was present she could actually talk back to. Technically Nate outranked her, but she knew what she could get away with when it came to him.
"Leave me alone! I am back at my quarters, and you shall get to watch me walk through the doors. What more can you ask of me?" she spat.
"To be careful," Nate breathed. He was still out of breath, but it was evident he was speaking in hushed tones even if they were seemingly alone.
"What?" Blair retorted, wondering if she had misheard him. The words caught her off guard though and her defense was now wrecked.
"What do you mean?" she pushed.
Nate stepped away, straightening his back, and giving a quick look around before speaking again.
"I do not know what your knowledge is of the King's brother, or Chuck's uncle, but I will offer you advice in that you do not going seeking it, and do all you can to avoid him," he revealed.
"What? Why? And why would you tell me this? You think I'm evil," she scoffed.
Nate shook his head, laughing half-heartedly.
"No, no I do not. I am not always fond of you, but I do not think you are evil. You are a foolish young girl playing a game, making bets with players you have no business with. But Jack, he's not foolish, and he's not young, and I don't think anyone here is completely certain what he's capable of."
Blair frowned, taking a step closer to him, and also looking around to check for others, before speaking again.
"You seem like you're implying something," she noted.
"No, I imply nothing, especially not about a royal family member. But you are Serena's friend, and I'm beginning to believe at least a part of you may care for Chuck, who is my friend. That man cast a dark shadow over anything he touches. I've seen it with Chuck. There's a reason the King never allows him to stay at court for too long. He has a certain influence on some people, especially his nephew. And the Bass Royal family name has one for a reason. But whatever you think the prince, or the King capable of, I assure you it will pale in comparison to Jack," he told her.
"So I should watch my back when it comes to him?" she asked.
Nate shook his head, looking solemn.
"No, if you feel you must watch your back then he is already a step ahead of you. You should do whatever you can to avoid him. And you should be careful when you must be around him." He sighed, shaking his head again, but this time looking more conflicted.
"Look, I really cannot say much more. And you cannot speak of this, but you should just be careful in general. The less secrets you keep, the better. Goodnight, Lady Blair." With that he turned on his heel and exited quickly.
Blair stood there a moment, watching him making his way down the long corridor. She considered calling out to him, but decided against it. Guards would be around soon to check on her, possibly even stand outside her door with how Chuck had been acting towards her. If she went in now and locked it they would at least stay posted on the other side of it; and she could have her privacy to an extent. So she resigned herself to this and went inside.
XOXOXOXOXO
Author's Note: I am so sorry to have been away for so long. I've been having some health issues/difficulties over the past couple of years (non-covid related). So that coupled with some other stuff going on, having to do with work and other areas of life, I just couldn't write till recently. If you're still here reading I more than appreciate you, and would even love if you'd let me know that. Also if you're ever wondering where I am, feel free to message me.