The Royal Affair

Chapter Twenty-Six:

A ROYAL MISUNDERSTANDING

"Lady Blair, please wake up," a voice called out. Along with it came a touch to Blair's shoulder, and a gentle push. She stirred in her sleep, only half awake, as she opened her eyes to see what was going on. One of her ladies in waiting stood in front of her, beside her bed. Blair glanced around the room, or what she could make of it in the dark. She was pretty certain it wasn't morning yet, due to the only dim light in the room seeming to come from the fire.

"Why? Is it dawn?" Blair murmured, slowly sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.

"No, my Lady. It is not. I am afraid it is the middle of the night, actually. But my orders were very clear, and from the prince himself. He would like you to join him in your dining room, immediately," she whispered.

"The prince? Is something wrong? Is he okay?" Blair asked back, wondering what the heavens could be going on.

The girl stared back at her, pursing her lips as if she was struggling with what words to say. Then she leaned in closer, and when she spoke it was in even more hushed tones than before.

"I am not entirely sure, my Lady. Between you and I, his highness seems to be upset about something, but I fear I should not say more. And I do believe he shall come looking for you and I if you do not hurry along now. Forgive me, my Lady. I am only following orders," the girl explained.

"Of course. Please fetch me my robe and I shall see to it," Blair beckoned, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. The girl nodded, bringing it to her, and helping her get it on. Blair yawned, looking out the window into the dead of night.

"Keep the fire going while I'm gone. I am sure to be back before morning," she instructed, knowing more than likely Chuck would want them to have privacy. She exited her chambers and made her way towards her own private dinning quarters. As she neared closer the scent of wine got stronger, and she heard someone moving about. She walked through the doorway, but paused under the frame of it, looking on inside.

There wasn't a servant in the room, but she could tell they had been there. Someone had brought a full pitcher of wine and two cups, and someone else had already started helping themselves to it. That person being Chuck, who she saw standing with his back to her, leaning over the fireplace. She could tell by his stance he was drunk, if the smell of him didn't already tip her off. He began to turn around, but in doing so stumbled a little. Luckily he caught himself, though she could tell by his expression it had irritated him. She wondered if it was his leg acting up, or just the overall inebriation. Suddenly he looked up, black eyes connecting with her own. It was in that moment she could tell he was more than just drunk. He looked ill-tempered to say the least, a tumultuous look about him if she was being honest. So she took a deep breath and braced herself for whatever had him so incensed.

"Why did you have them wake me? Wasn't it you hours earlier who sent me to bed?" Blair asked. She wasn't trying to pick a fight now of course, so she was careful with her tone. It was merely a question to start conversation, and a valid one in her opinion at that.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it wasn't to have you back talk me, that is for certain. Go, sit down at the table." He motioned towards it aggressively.

Blair crossed her arms, remaining still. It annoyed her when he gave her orders without a reason for them. Which seemed silly in retrospect considering he was the prince, but she was Blair Waldorf. So she decided she'd stand her ground.

"Why? I do not wish to have any wine, or anything else that would require sitting—"

"You'll sit because I fucking told you to!" he barked, interrupting her whilst taking a small charge towards her.

She frowned, feeling a little hurt by his tone and attitude. She wasn't sure what she could have possibly done to deserve it. Still, she could tell this wasn't one of those moments she could just trying pushing him any way she wanted to. So she slowly walked over to the table and sat down, looking to him as if for further instruction. She was giving in for now, playing it safe.

He followed with heavy footsteps, walking up behind her, and standing up against the back of her chair. He pushed her chair in further, her breasts up against the table, almost as if he had intention to physically trap her there. She could feel and smell his breath on her, and watched as his arm reached out in front of her, sliding a glass of wine towards her.

"Drink. And then we will talk," Chuck ordered, placing his hands on top of her shoulders. He wasn't gripping them very hard, not yet at least.

Blair stared at the very full cup of wine for a moment. She sighed.

"Why? I don't want any," she refused, shaking her head. She was still very tired, and her bed sounded much more appealing than anymore drinking. She was rather bored of it actually, it being done so often at social gatherings. However his movements ceased all her thoughts when she felt him lean down, speaking closer to her ear, and now griping one of her shoulders tighter than before.

"You seem to have become confused about our arrangement and exactly who I am. I will forgive you for it, this once because I woke you from your sleep and because there is always a part of me, no matter how angry, who looks upon you and wants to rip your clothes off—" he paused for a moment, as if considering, but then continued. "But tonight you shall remember I am the prince; and if you are to remain in my presence then you shall always answer to me whatever I ask, and know it be wise you consider doing most things I ask. So drink, Blair." He didn't raise his voice when he said this, but she knew this was to make a point as well. He didn't need to. His whispers could be more impactful than hundreds of men's shouts.

"Fine. Yes, your highness," Blair breathed in compliance. She then reached forward, picking up the glass, and bringing it to her lips to sip. It tasted strong at this hour.

"Start with losing the titles then. Should the day come I ask you to call me that again you have much to worry," he furthered. She could tell this had only pushed his buttons more, and she regretted it. It was just hard for her to fully accept defeat. Yet, the way he was acting, in this moment at least, she felt she should. She sighed, taking another sip as she tried to think of what to say next. He beat her to it.

"Tell me, were you aware of who he was when you so blatantly flirted and fawned over him?" he asked suddenly, and the questioned truly stunned her. He walked around the table, so that he stood on the other side of it, directly across from her. She could tell he wasn't finished.

"And was it to get my attention or were you hoping to escape it?" he questioned.

She frowned back at him, hoping he could tell she was confused, for she genuinely was. She shook her head.

"I beg pardon. Who are you—"

She silenced mid sentence as he lunged forward, slamming his own cup down on the table in front of her. The wine sloshed around, spilling over the top, and out onto the table.

"Do not play the fool, Blair!" He barked, leaving both fists on the table as he loomed over it, and her.

"I walked up on you two sitting closer than we do at times! And I saw the way you were looking at him, the way you spoke to him—"

She stuttered, not being able to help, but interrupt him.

"Chuck, I honestly do not know who you are talking about—"

"My uncle, Blair!" he shouted, banging those fists on the table.

"That man who bares a family resemblance to me! The one who seemed to feel oh so comfortable putting a hand on you tonight! Why was that?" He spoke as if he meant to interrogate her. It was a good thing she had relocated to such a private royal apartment or someone would have surely heard him. And then it dawned on her, his words. And she could almost laugh at such a ridiculous implication, but now was not the time. So instead she looked him right in the eye, and shook her head. She wondered how such a small interaction had enraged him so much. Not to mention just how much he had misread and misinterpreted it.

"Surely, you are not implying I asked for him to come onto me? I was merely talking to him, Chuck. And only because he is a royal and your uncle and to not do so could mean I slight him, which is not something someone does to the royal family," she explained.

"You seem to have no problem slighting my step brother," he bit back, a cruel look flashing across his face.

She glared at him. The comment made her mad and she couldn't help, but respond.

"I was not aware you were so concerned for him—"

"You will hold your tongue, Blair. You shall not get in my mind and jumble it up tonight," he ordered, accompanied by an insulting insinuation. Perhaps he wasn't capable of being kind tonight. Too much alcohol, and something or someone else, exactly what she wasn't sure, but she had a clue as to who. She shook her head, trying to regain some control in the situation.

She began, "No, the wine's already done that just fine enough already—"

"I said do not speak!" he roared, slamming his fists once more. This time he did it so hard both cups of wine and the pitcher turned over, spilling all over the table. She felt the warm red liquid wash off the edges and onto her robe. Her initial reaction would have been to jump up, but she wouldn't dare do it now. Instead she looked up at Chuck, wide-eyed and taken aback.

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

"I tried to tell you earlier in a way that was not unkind, to warn you, but you are determined to make me be blunt about this so I will! I am the prince of England and whether we're fucking or not you will always obey me and do as I will! Or so help me, I'll have them lock you in a tower of my choosing and not let you see or speak to anyone until I so decide it! Do you understand?" he threatened, his nostrils flaring as he did so.

"Yes," Blair breathed, so quiet she wondered if he'd heard it. She had never seen him like this before. It wasn't just his usual kind of jealousy, but something new or something else. It felt as if she wasn't getting the whole picture, or the entire story, but now was not the time, nor he currently the person to prod for it.

"I tried not coming here tonight, you know? I needn't come to your room every night. A prince shouldn't, aside from obvious reasons I shouldn't even be here at all. I thought I'll stay in my own quarters tonight, but I couldn't," he revealed suddenly, no longer yelling, but still obviously worked up.

"I like when you come to mine," Blair returned, offering him the smallest of olive branches. In her head she added a 'usually' to it, but she would not dare speak that aloud. She had seen her small chance at lightening the mood, and was attempting it. She felt her heart sink some when she looked up and he appeared to still be unmoved.

"It doesn't seem that way tonight," he retorted, clearly still chafed.

"How should one act when woken up for an interrogation?" She pondered, realizing once it was too late it had been allowed.

He laughed, but it sounded more bitter than anything. Then he pushed himself off the table, walking back around it to her side.

"Your naïve mind doesn't know anything about interrogations. If you did you wouldn't use such a word, in fear of it. Do you see any guards here, Blair? Any devices of torture?" He took a few steps towards her, grabbing hold of her chair, and pulling it out so that she was turned towards him. She looked up at him, and he down at her.

"Is there any reason I should have you really interrogated, Blair? Sent to the tower?" he asked, voice low and cold.

Blair felt herself unable to speak, and her body frozen from his words. She was trying to decipher if he was actually threatening her. And she wasn't sure she could tell.

He was breathing heavy again, eyes wide and wild, as he continued to stare her down.

"I—I am not sure what I have done to make you suddenly so unhappy with me, Chuck. But—But you are scaring me," she stuttered, speaking finally. She felt cornered. Not sure what to say or do, or what his words really meant. She was tired, and her head hurt from the wine and lack of sleep. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, as she allowed herself to accept how overwhelmed she truly felt.

And then she saw it, his expression falter, and his face fall some. His eyes began to lighten, and his posture wasn't so stiff anymore. She knew he was reacting to her own emotional reaction, whether he wanted to or not. This was likely her last chance this evening at it, at breaking through to him.

"Are—are you going to let someone hurt me?" she whispered, now allowing the tears to stream fully down her cheeks. She began breathing a little harder, and harsher, looking up at him with the greatest doe eyes she could muster.

He frowned at this, "What? No—Blair. What do you mean? Of course I wouldn't let anyone touch you." His demeanor changed and he bent down, reaching out a hand to hold her cheek, and the other to wipe at her tears.

She knew it had worked. So alas, she let the tears fall. And fall they did, flooding down her cheeks in hot, wet streams.

"Blair, hey, stop it. Shhhh. Quit that now. You misunderstood me. You're not going anywhere and no one will ever hurt you," he promised, pulling her in and kissing the top of her head. "That's not what I meant—"

"You swear it?" she asked, wanting some kind of promise from him. She wasn't sure why she wanted it, it wouldn't be anymore of a guarantee. Yet it felt like it would mean something to her, so she pressed for it, looking up at him longingly.

"Yes, of course. As long as you never deceive me that won't ever change," he vowed, though she was quick to notice the stipulation. She searched his eyes and judged his tone for his reasoning behind this. Was he still testing her? Or was he just mentioning it now, with less of a threat behind those words.

Chuck sighed, pulling back, and putting a hand under her chin to tip it upwards. He used his other to reach up and stroke her hair, squinting his eyes a few time as if he was tired, or perhaps even felt unwell.

"I—I am sorry. I've had too much drink tonight, stayed up too late, and had perhaps too long of the wrong conversations. I should not have pulled you from your bed like this," he relinquished, looking guilty about that at least.

"I am sorry if I did anything this evening that could be misinterpreted as anything other than my absolute loyalty to you, Chuck," Blair spoke up, knowing by his facial reaction to her words he had not expected them.

"I do not wish to speak of it anymore. I have just calmed down," he rejected, shaking his head at her. He then moved as if he were considering leaving, and despite how he'd acted, Blair didn't want him to.

She nodded, sighing, and stood up. Then she bit her bottom lip, unable to help herself.

"I just don't want you to believe—"

"I believe I just told you we will not be speaking of this anymore tonight," Chuck interrupted, flashing her a look. And she knew it was done for now, unless she wanted to go round in circles all night. She was pretty certain based on how physically tired he now appeared though, he wouldn't be going anywhere else tonight.

"Fine. Shall we go to bed then?" Blair asked, moving on as he wished. As she stood up she straightened out her robe, and pulled it tighter around her.

He didn't respond, but just stared at her a for a few moments, looking her up and down. Then he moved towards her, taking her by the hand, and leading her back down the hallway towards her room. By the time they got there her lady in waiting had appeared to already have left, but the fire remained burning for them, just as she'd requested.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Jack and Chuck walked alongside each other, through the gardens, and mazes of green ivy. He had intercepted the prince coming out of the king's office, after tending to some royal business for his father. Jack had asked about it, offering his services, but Chuck told him that they had finished and he was headed out for the day. So his uncle joined him on a stroll. Once they had drifted far enough from the ears of those who could gossip, their conversation took a shift from small talk.

"So nephew, this Lady Blair. Why her? Especially considering your father's already paired her with your new… shall we even call him your brother?" Jack asked, showing immediate dismay for Thomas as well. The prince didn't mind this of course.

Chuck sighed, "No we shall not. As he could never really be as such. This marriage between his mother and my father was purely political, and not even official yet, mind you. As for Lady Blair… I am not sure I can put such into words. She just captivates my attention better than the others." He was never too keen on discussing his feelings, and this was not really a usual conversation he would have with his uncle Jack. Their conversations and activities together in the past had always been of a more nefarious kind.

Jack nodded, as if thoughtfully taking in all information given. He then quirked his brow, putting his hands behind his back, to hold them there as they walked.

"How old is she?" his uncle furthered.

Chuck made eye contact with him, knowing exactly why he'd asked such a question. He smirked, knowing a part of Jack would apparently never change. But there was part of him that felt uneasy knowing his uncle was taking any interest in Blair at all. There just wasn't really a reason for it. And he knew how Jack could get. Still, he knew to try and abstain from conversation now that was seemingly so casual, would only prompt Jack's interest more. So he indulged him and answered.

"Seventeen."

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Jack bellowed, the kind of laughter that was deep and came from one's belly. He shook his head, but grinned at Chuck. It was a mischievous kind of smirk, sinister almost.

"Well, now I partly understand it. There's not much to complain about them at that age," he remarked.

Chuck rolled his eyes. He was used to how Jack was and didn't let it bother him.

"Well uncle, I am not exactly an old man like yourself now," he jested.

"You are not as young as you once were. And Lady Blair should be thankful for that. You were a royal nightmare at seventeen, still one last year at twenty-six from what I recall. Do not tell me that fools tale they all do that you think this woman has changed you?" Jack chuckled, though not as loud as before. Before Chuck could provide any kind of comeback or answer though his uncle carried on.

"Honestly, poor Lady Blair. If the girl loves you at all her heart shall surely be shattered. You're incapable of fidelity, Charles. You always have been. Not that you should feel guilty about it, most men are, and Bass men definitely are. Even your father couldn't stay faithful to your mother, the woman he'd try and fight death himself for if he could." It always made Chuck uncomfortable when Jack brought up his mother, as he seemed to be able to do it much more casually than his father. Still, he never brought attention to this though as his father had also taught Chuck to not show emotion about the late queen either.

"Perhaps this time is different," he spoke up, surprising himself. It was as if his mouth had spoken with permission from someone other than his brain. He watched as Jack flashed him a look of surprise.

"How different?" his uncle pushed, sounding even more skeptical than before.

It bothered Chuck that Jack seemed so certain about all of this, and he wasn't sure why. And yet something in him was prompting him to push back.

"I—I don't know. I just do." He wasn't providing as great as a defense as he'd hoped for. And Jack looked no more convinced.

Chuck sighed, "Before you say anymore, I know what you are thinking, uncle. But it's not just because she's beautiful, or foreign, or technically on paper not mine yet—"

"Yet?" Jack interrupted, quirking his brow at the prince.

"Look, it is not exactly something I can workout yet into words. Therefore I should like you to keep this between us, uncle," Chuck told him, sounding and feeling some exasperated.

Jack chuckled, "Nephew, it would appear more than half the court is whispering about it. And you must be aware of this, as you flaunt your fondness of her so blatantly from what I've heard myself since arriving. But take comfort in knowing your dear old uncle's lips shall not be among those who pass gossip about you." There, he had said it. Chuck told himself it was all he needed to end this uncomfortable conversation.

"Good then, thank you," he concluded. Chuck then picked up his pace, seeing they were approaching the building alas. He motioned towards it.

"I have enjoyed this visit uncle, but I fear I must be off. I have other matters to attend to this afternoon," he explained.

"Other matters? Yes, of course," Jack obliged with a knowing smirk. And Chuck knew he knew exactly where he'd be off to. So he merely nodded and carried on his way, glad the particular conversation was over.

XOXOXOXOXO

Blair stared down at the half eat macaroon, she'd just bitten into. She was regretting deciding to eat it, the sweetness was too much today for some reason. She pursed her lips at the taste, having a strange urge to crush the delicate little pastry in her hand.

"Blair? Blair, are you alright?" Serena's voice reached her ears, and Blair lifted her gaze from the cookie to her friend. Slowly she nodded, taking a glance at the two ladies in waiting they'd brought along with them. Unlike Blair, they both seemed to be enjoying themselves a little too much, toasting each others wine glasses for what must have been the fifth time since the servants had set up the picnic for them.

"You don't seem yourself today," the blonde furthered, regaining her friend's attention again as she placed a gentle hand on her own.

"I—I didn't sleep well. Something woke me last night… it was a dream," Blair found herself stuttering, and both half lies and half truths coming out. It had been Chuck who had awoken her of course, in one of the worst states she'd seen him. So drunk and angry, but she sensed there was more to it than that. He seemed under the influence of more than just wine, or that was what her gut was telling her.

"Oh?" Serena smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Is that all? I had worried perhaps the prince and you had a fight—"

Before she could stop herself Blair let out a half hearted chuckle. Serena quirked her brow at her, and Blair shook her head.

"It's nothing. Nothing out of the usual, at least. I suppose the men got a little too drunk last night. The prince turned up at my chambers at nearly almost dawn, and I think he may have scared my maids a little, but nothing I was concerned about," she lied, playing it off.

Serena frowned, "The men? Do you meant the prince and Nate? Well, Nate turned up at my chambers well before midnight. Surely, you're mistaken about the time. Nate couldn't have been with the prince that late—"

"You're right, I was mistaken about the time. But I was awoken from my slumber suddenly so it's be expected. Honestly," Blair quipped, starting to grow somewhat annoyed with what the blonde may be implying. She didn't feel Chuck had honestly been with other women last night, well at least not any she'd need be worried about. It was more the alternative male company he had, that being his uncle, she was more concerned with. And how could she not be? Nate, of all people, who didn't even like her that much, had made it a point to warn her about him. So he couldn't be good news. She felt agitated and began to wonder if perhaps she should be concerned with who else Chuck's uncle could have had around him that night.

"Is that a bite mark on your neck?" Serena's voice once again had broken her concentration on her own thoughts. And when what she'd said actually set in, Blair couldn't help, but laugh. Serena seemed to match her mood and laughter, making Blair feel a sense of relief that her friends unusually nosey moment had come to an end.

"What are you two laughing about, my Lady?" one of the other girls spoke up, both of them now scooting forward in their seats on the blanket.

Serena giggled, reaching a hand across towards Blair, to give a light stroke of the spot. "Oh nothing, just making sure Lady Blair wasn't bit by anything too serious last night. The neck is such a dangerous place to be wounded," she teased.

One girl took a drink of wine, while the other laughed, though an expression came over her face that told Blair something significant had come to mind.

"What is it?" Blair asked, proud of herself for never missing anything. The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, but then seemed to second guess herself. She frowned, exchanging looks with the other one.

"Speak. Now," Blair pressed more forcefully, frowning at them. She'd hoped she was overreacting, but the two girls expressions were giving her cause for anxiety.

The girls once again exchanged a look with one another, before the one made eye contact with Blair again. Although it was brief, for as she began to speak again her eyes fell, looking down into her cup of wine.

"Tis probably nothing, my Lady. I do not even know why it came to mind. It is only when the Lady Serena made a joke about you having a bite on your neck, I couldn't help think about the young maid they were all going on about in the wash rooms this morning. They were saying she had a big, bright red mark on her neck, and Lady Jane who saw it said only teeth could have done it," she revealed, speaking quietly, as if they weren't out near the woods where no one could hear them.

Blair felt as if her throat had somehow smacked back into her heart, and together they fell to the pit of her stomach. She could feel Serena's eyes on her, and she knew her friend was thinking the same thing, if not worse. The prince had a thing for rough foreplay, it was something made known to Blair, and many other maidens at court before her. Only, since she'd arrived, the once seemingly never ending trail of maidens who turned up with bruises, bite marks, and hickeys had ceased… well, until now.

"Are you sure? Did you see it yourself?" Serena asked defensively, speaking up for her friend. Alas, Blair allowed herself to make eye contact with her.

"No, I don't really know her. She's a bit lower in rank, sort of somewhere between a maid and lady in waiting. Her brother was a servant to the prince, but has apparently moved up some having found favor as of recent, now being seen more as an apprentice or secretary or something. The family name is common… something like Hunfrey… no, Humphrey," the girl furthered on. The other one then nudged her in the ribs with her elbow, and she stopped immediately. Both looked nervously to Blair.

"You could always call on her my Lady, ask a task of her. Her name is Jennifer, but she goes by Jenny. Her brother's name is Daniel or Dan, I think," the other one revealed.

"Oh, yes I've heard of him," Serena said knowingly, her tone seeming to imply more, but in that moment Blair found it very hard to care about her relationship with some male secretary. She was more concerned with someone of even lower rank now it would seem, how had they put it? Oh yes, somewhere between a maid and a lady. She grimaced at the thought of Chuck going around her for not only another woman, but one far, far beneath her. But Chuck couldn't do that, or wouldn't do that, would he? She felt herself suddenly very confused. Her brain told her that he was the prince, and most royals found themselves in the beds of many women. Not to mention, he had one of the worst reputations she'd found, upon asking around when she'd first arrived to court. Why had she ever thought he'd have any loyalty or feel anything special towards her? What, because he implied it? Because he said nice things to her and slept in her bed a lot? He could grow tired of her and have her executed by nightfall and there'd be not a person in the kingdom who could stop him. Her face grew hot, and she suddenly felt very nauseous. She regretted any and all sweets she'd consumed on their little picnic even more now.

"Blair!" a deep voice bellowed from across the way. All of the women, Blair included, looked up instantly. And she felt her heart sink even further, it must have been in her toes by now. She watched as Chuck appeared in the clearing, Nate not too far behind him. He was making his way towards her, with what appeared to be a somewhat sheepish grin. When he got close to them, he stopped, seeming surprised that she didn't instantly rise up to greet him. He frowned a little, as if he was unsure how to proceed, and none of it made Blair feel any better. So she stayed, remaining seated on the ground, just staring blankly up at him.

"Nice day for a picnic," he commented somewhat awkwardly.

"Your highness," both of her ladies in waiting said in unison, immediately standing, just so that they could dramatically bow for him. Chuck didn't even look at them, his glance instead remained fixated on Blair.

"Can I join you?" he asked her finally, but she wouldn't meet his gaze anymore. She could tell by his body language it was irritating him too, but she didn't care. At least he wasn't going to have to think of some bogus reason to call some little no name maid to her chambers to see if she did in fact have a bitemark. Blair had decided she'd have to confirm it for herself first before deciding on anything else.

"Blair?" Serena prompted, nudging her some.

"He's the prince. He doesn't need our permission. He can sit anywhere, anytime he wants," Blair remarked, eyes on the ground, and sounding somewhat bitter.

Serena forced an awkward laugh, trying to pretend Blair had just made a joke. No one else joined in with her. Just then, Nate caught up from behind, interrupting the scene with his usual obliviousness as to what was really going on.

"Are we having a little ladies picnic today? And are those macaroons from France? I should have you each locked in the tower for not inviting me to eat them," Nate teased, grinning at both of Blair's ladies in waiting. He then bent down by Serena, purposely reaching across her to pluck a pastry from the basket and pop it into his mouth.

"It would appear we're too late to join in today, Nathaniel. So I'll ask you be a gentleman and escort these ladies back to the great hall. I'm sure if you carry their sweets for them, they'll spare some for you," Chuck suggested, but everyone there knew it was an order. And with that, both women, and Serena began to gather their things. Blair picked not a single thing up, but still went to stand.

"Not you. You sit," Chuck said suddenly. Blair looked up at him, finally meeting his dark eyes, but decided not to say anything. Instead she sighed, and sat back down where she'd been before.

"I'll come bring you some of your things back later, Blair," Serena offered, though Blair knew that was more so just a way of saying she'd help with the Jenny business later. Blair nodded to her friend, and then watched as she, Nate, and her two ladies in waiting, walked away seemingly as quickly as they could. She supposed she couldn't blame them, most of her ladies were scared of the prince and his temper.

"I suppose I don't need to ask if you're still upset with me," Chuck remarked once they'd gone, then slowly, and carefully, he lowered himself to the ground to sit beside her. She watched his face, waiting for the all too familiar wince he seemed to enact whenever his wounded leg got pushed or bent in a way it didn't want to.

"Upset with you?" she repeated back to him, though it was more of question. Yes, she was very upset with him. But he shouldn't know that, not yet, well unless he had been so blatant with that girl the night before that he knew she must have known. Was that it?

"I was very drunk last night. And in an odd state, given what had happened earlier that evening," he explained. Blair frowned, only further confused as to what he was talking about now.

"Earlier that evening?" She hated that she could only seem to just repeat his words back to him, but it also seemed to be helping her somewhat maintain control of the situation. After all he didn't seem angry or fed up with her yet.

"Fine, Blair. I will express myself more specifically. I suppose you deserve it after what I put you through. You see, as I told you before, it wasn't my intention to wake you that night, or go to your room. But after so many cups of wine, I couldn't help myself," he furthered. And Blair realized what he was speaking of now.

"Like too much wine or bad behavior out of you would shock me at this point," she snipped, surprised by herself as she said it. Why was she trying to take a shot at him, or worse start an argument?

Chuck looked at her for a moment, then shook his head.

"I was wrong in my approach towards you last night, Blair. I won't deny I was upset, or that I didn't have a right to be, but it wasn't my intention to scare you like I did. I woke up today upset with myself for it, honestly. And when I'd realized you'd left the bed without waking me, well I knew you were still upset," he explained. And she was somewhat shocked by how genuinely apologetic he sounded. It was rare for him to say sorry, even if his behavior had warranted it. She'd always attributed it to him not knowing how, after all who did princes have to explain themselves to?

"Where were you last night, before you came to my bed?" Blair asked blatantly. She wondered if her expression showed how shocked she was by her own question. But something had came over her, and she couldn't help herself. Only Chuck, didn't seem to catch on to the accusation. Instead, he put his head in his hands, rubbing his temple.

"I went with Jack for some… family bonding time. We didn't leave the castle, at least I don't think we did. There was a lot of wine, even for me," he sighed. He then leaned his head against her shoulder, turning his body into hers some.

"If you make this apology a bit easier on me, I'll get you whatever you want," he offered with a laugh, but they both knew it wasn't a joke. Blair stared at him for a moment, a little voice in her head antagonizing her about what all he really had to apologize for.

Chuck frowned when she didn't respond, and lifted his hand to her cheek, cupping it.

"Blair, please. I order you to end this silent treatment. I really will give you whatever you want, be it jewels or dresses—"

"I'll think it over and get back to you then," she finally spoke. Though she still felt much more guarded than she knew she'd managed to appear or sound. This, Chuck thankfully, did not notice.

He chuckled, sounding relieved.

"There's my girl. You accept my apology then?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

Blair was careful with her words in how she responded.

"For showing up drunk and angry last night? Yes, I shall," she clarified. But again, Chuck didn't seem to notice she'd been so specific on purpose. Instead, he seemed much more at ease now, even leaning in close to place a soft kiss on her neck. But Blair couldn't help it, the image of a bitemark, and one on a neck not of her own, kept flashing through her mind.

"Good. In that case I'll plan on having you for dessert tonight at dinner. If we make it through the meal, that is," he breathed in her ear, his hand sliding up her thigh as he spoke. Blair caught it with her own before it made it's way under her dress.

"I—I can't have dinner tonight. I have previous plans," she lied, pulling back from him some. She couldn't have him in her chambers tonight, not with Serena coming over, and them finding a way to call on this maid he may have… bit. She knew if the bitemark belonged to him, it meant he'd done much more than that to her, but she couldn't bring herself to even think those actual things yet. It stung too much.

Chuck pulled back from her, though he did not let go of her. His mood had made a sudden change, and he was furrowing his brow at her.

"You have previous plans? For what? And with who?" he questioned; a tone that sounded very accusatory. Which she found rich, given it was her who has all the reason to be the one questioning him. It was then it dawned on her, she must come up with a lie, and like now. She racked her mind for something, anything, and spoke the first idea that came to her.

"Yes, I most certainly do. I have dinner plans with Serena, ones that cannot be rescheduled. You see… well a mutual friend wrote to her, asking about both of us, and we thought it best we get together to read and respond to it," she fibbed, finding it a bit easier than she thought it would be.

"A friend?" Chuck returned, sounding skeptical.

"Yes, from back home. It shouldn't take too long, I could come to your chambers afterwards. That way you wouldn't have to come late again, should it take a while," Blair furthered, knowing she couldn't risk having him turn up once she had the girl in question there. She was so consumed by her own thoughts and motives, she hadn't even noticed that Chuck's posture had tightened, or that he now seemed off again.

"Fine. Though this must be a very special friend and letter to warrant you needing to spend all evening with Serena. What words you must have for them, and they you." he remarked, and she again unfortunately didn't seem to notice how carefully and he was choosing his words. Instead she shrugged, merely nodding in response.

"Uh yes, they are," she replied. And with that she rose to her feet, looking down at him. "Getting a bit chilly out here, don't you think? Perhaps you could walk me back to my chambers, as I said I'll come to yours later." She felt the need to remind him of the exact plan so that he wouldn't try and stray from it. She had to see the girl with the bitemark tonight, see if it was real, if it was his….

Chuck rose, huffing some as he did, but Blair figured it was his leg injury bothering him again so she didn't hover over it any. He nodded curtly.

"If that's what you wish. Must not keep your… friend waiting." Blair nodded at him, taking hold of his arm, and walking beside him, as they made their way back to the castle. Neither of them said much more, both of them too consumed by where each of their minds were running off to.

XOXOXOXOXO

A/N: I just gotta get this story out. If you're still reading, you get it too.