King Aedan fidgeted in front of his mirror, drawing in a deep breath. He faced himself.

It was early on a Sunday morning. He and his bride had taken communion that day, though he hadn't seen her. She was so young. And, he had to admit, facing himself in the harsh early light, she was ugly. It wasn't such a bad thing. She wouldn't be unfaithful to him, and no one would care if he were unfaithful to her. Would the people be pleased with an ugly Queen? Well, he wanted them to look more at their King in any case. Theirs was a martial country.

Aedan scratched at his chest through the white silk of his wedding doublet. He was wearing so much cloth-of-gold he felt sure it was worse than armor. It almost certainly weighed more. His sleeves alone were like great bladders of liquid sitting on his arms. God, grant me strength. He did not just mean the strength to survive his constrictive clothing.

"Sir, they're waiting."

The King held up a hand. "Coming, Jonas." He braced himself on the table, elbows straight, joints pressed to cracking. Was what he was doing right for the country? Do not rush into war, his father had said, but what he had done was the opposite. Damn you, Father.

Aedan turned in a swirl of gold and white and stormed out the door, accompanied by his waiting ceremonial guard, dressed in gold-plated but still functional armor. Musicians played in the Great Hall, and he strode toward the altar. There he stood, waiting for his bride. Their vows would be long and ceremonial, followed by the crowning. Hastily done, if anything--but the exigencies of state would always come before the need for extravagance.

It was hard for Hanna to wrap her mind around the thought that after today, she would be a wife, and more than that a Queen. Queen. Who would have ever thought this would happen? And with her being so young, it became even more difficult for her to comprehend. Contrary to what people would think, though, she wasn’t completely thrilled. She was satisfied, but not because of her position as Queen, but the fact that would be married. She had been one the lucky ones, born into such a family, where she could at least have some chance at happiness, as her appearance allotted her nothing of the sort. Even so, she had pictured the day much different. It would be with someone she would love, a small quiet ceremony. Instead, she was getting married to a man who did not seem to care for, in a huge ceremony. Well, that was expected since she was marrying the King.

The morning was also much more busy and hectic than Hanna could have ever imagined. People were running everywhere, making last minute changes, making sure things were going as they were supposed to. Hanna was surprised that they even remembered her in their frantic rush. But, they did get her dressed, put up her hair, which also was not what she had expected since it too much longer than she would have figured. After all, was it such a difficult task?

Once she was ready, the young ladies attending her finally let her look at herself in the mirror. Well, she was still no beauty, but Hanna, after all that ridicule could not argue that she looked much better than usual. Her white flowing dress did not make her seem as pale, the glitters on the dress almost making her not notice her facial features. But as Hanna dared to look at herself directly, she noticed that her hair put up did not look all too bad. She looked better than ever, though she still had to admit, millions of other women would look better in the dress. Turning to the side, she could still see that she was not at all as slender as she desired to be. She let out a small sigh. She couldn’t do much anyway about that, so why should it matter? She never was one to blend in to the crowd, and she had no need to impress a male because even though no vows were said, she was as good as married right now, because the agreement between him and her father.

Suddenly, a knock at the door announced it was time. Slowly, Hanna pealed her eyes away from the mirror and followed a group of ladies.

Questions filled her mind as headed out the door to meet her future as Queen. Would she be liked by her subjects? They did not seem to mind the King, but would things be different once the vows were said? Hanna had no idea, and she did not know how good of a Queen she would be. King Aeden had already pointed out her lack of knowledge when it came to militaristic state of the country. But she was a woman. Regardless of that, Hanna figured if she was to make the most of the union, she would have to somehow show she was interested in learning, which she was, and not just because she was to be Queen.

Walking down the aisle, having every eye on her, was not exactly new, but Hanna could not help but wonder what they were thinking, and whether they stared at her because it was appropriate or because of her looks. Regardless, Hanna did not let those stares bother her, and she walked on, looking straight at Aeden, who did not look at all enthusiastic. Well, all Hanna could hope for, was that things would change.

For the first time since she came to the palace Elayne didn't feel like her uncle tried to put her on display. His interest in her seemed to have lessened when the King had announced his marrige with Lady Hanna. Not that it really had, but he had been busy trying to think of another good match for his niece. As of right now, Lord Elrich Argyle was more busy observing the girl he from now on would have to call queen. A look of annoyance was on his face, and Elayne knew very well what had caused it. Oh yes, she knew very well why he was so upset. And her slightly red cheek witnessed of it too.

It was not the first time he had hit her, but at least now she felt he had a slight reason to. He'd spent so much money on her so that she could get the position as queen, and instead some young "cow-faced, good for nothing mama-girl", as he liked to call her.

Elayne, on the other hand, had sympathy for the girl. Lady Hanna was even younger than herself, and now she had to wed a man more than twice her age. Elayne even had a girly dream about love, so to her this all seemed even worse for the other girl. And, well, it was not that the King was ugly or that she believed him to be a bad man, far on the contrary, but to be tied up when she was still a child...poor Hanna!

Turning her head from the girl, Elayne looked upon the king again and felt her cheeks redden. She felt some of the same feelings she felt when being with Darien as she looked at Aedan, only when looking at him there was a complete abscence of anger. She would have just kept staring too, had she not suddenly realised that she was and instead looked down. Her hand nervously reached up and brushed away some stray strands of hair and she hoped none of those around her noticed her faint blush.

Aedan took a long breath, and held it, as his Queen-to-be walked down the aisle. She would be crowned very simply, just after their wedding ceremony, with only a few extra words. Thank God, he thought--there wouldn't be too much pomp and to-do about this whole thing. Even if he was still wearing so much white silk, velvet, and cloth-of-gold.

His bride looked almost pretty, though. Her cheeks were flushed. It looked as though they were, perhaps, flushed with sadness. But there was nothing he could do about that. He wasn't thoroughly pleased, himself. Still, it was what was right for the country. Now they'd have the Baron Blauvelt's troops, his money, his support. And maybe Aedan would finally get a proper heir.

The elegant clothing made the Lady Hanna look even smaller than usual, almost childish, or dwarf-like. Aedan had never been one for younger women. It felt improper, or unfair--even immoral... She knew what she was in for, surely? The royal wedding night was an embarrassingly public affair. He could only hope.

When she reached him, he tried to smile down at her encouragingly, but it died on his lips. So he simply turned to listen as the Cardinal began to recite the vows. They were, naturally, interminable and flowery, and Aedan let his mind wander. How many troops do I have right now? More than 5,000 already in the garrisons. If half the serfs... I wonder what we'll have for dinner after this? I don't care how many times they try to serve me something coated in gold leaf, I'm still not in for that sort of thing.... when will this be over?

With that last, despairing thought, echoing in his head, the Cardinal turned to him.

"Aedan Kilgour, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, wilt thou love her, and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will." His voice was steady, and he reached out for his soon-to-be wife's small hand, awaiting her answer before he slipped on the wedding ring.

Of the numerous weddings the general had been forced to endure in his social and professional life he had only been to one wedding he had enjoyed, and that had been his own. He could still remember the day in his unfailing memory, although some of the details had faded. He couldn't quite remember what he had been wearing, although he most likely would have had trouble remembering what he was wearing the day after his wedding. He didn't remember all of who was there, although most of it had been his family. It was small, or at least it was modest, for a man of Laurent's stature, even when he had been only a major back then. Had he been a major? The more he tried to think of it the more it faded away. But what he did remember was his bride. She looked as beautiful as she always did, effortlessly graceful and perfectly modest. He remembered exactly what she had been wearing and all other formal dresses he saw at the current ceremony failed in comparison to it. Though to be fair none of those dresses had as perfect of a model to wear them. Perhaps if his wife had worn them they would look less gaudy and pretentious. But it didn't do the general's mind well to reminisce about days long gone by. All his wife wore now was funeral finery and a shroud, evidently she had committed some offense against the divine that was punishable by death. A punishment mercilessly carried out by whichever headsman was employed by the holiest of holies.

Laurent tried to push such thoughts of his past from the front of his mind to the back, where they always lingered. He focused on observing the proceedings of the day which seemed to occupy his mind well enough, especially since there was plenty to be observed. All of the nobles were in attendance, or at least what seemed like all of them, filling the pews around the general. They looked like peacocks, clothing and appearances designed to catch the attention of one person or another. For every well dressed woman there were a dozen beautifully dressed women for them to envy, and for every dozen of the beautiful women there was a gorgeously dressed woman for their jealous eyes to glare at. The whole thing had very little resemblance to the religious ceremony it was supposed to be, other than the agonizingly long prayers and chants. Undoubtedly only a few of those assembled within the room had any strong of religious convictions, including the clergy.

There was nothing morally wrong about the marriage of the King and the soon to be queen and despite the objections of many of the nobles in court the general couldn't care less who the king married. Of course he wanted the king to be happy with his wife but being happy with what his wife could bring to his army would have to be enough. Besides, finishing what his father started would be enough to make the king happy. And what made the king happy made the general happy. But the happiness of the future queen was less assured. Of course Aedan was normally a kind man when it came to dealings with his subjects, but how he would deal with his wife remained to be seen. Then of course she would have to deal with the other nobles and the people at large. Supposedly Hanna Kilgour was quite a charming young lady, if you could get past her appearance that is, so perhaps she would prove to be an able queen and a favorite of the people. Or they'd resent the Scalian for one reason or another. But as long as the queen's father provided the support that was expected for the conquest of the rest of the island the general would be content, even if she wouldn't.

She had to admit it, just had to. There was no word to describe how she felt, no way to really let loose on her emotions without using the word she really didn't want to use for it.

It was boring.

Utterly, truly, downright boring.

Niamh would have preferred to stay away from this moment in the kingdom's history. She could have been riding Siobhan or reading a book again. She could even have been practicing her stitchery though that was a pasttime that never occurred willingly for her. But honestly, there was nothing for her to do at this wedding except make an appearance to appease her father and the king himself. After all, if Aedan didn't see the eldest daughter of the McNamara clan there, what would he think of her father and of her?

He wouldn't think very highly and for that reason, she was sitting, standing, kneeling and so on with the rest of the crowd, praying with them at certain parts, clapping and smiling appropriately. Looking at her, no one could tell that she was feeling dead inside from the lack of activity. Her body demanded that she leave and go outside and get exercise. It demanded that she go and visit a garden or ride Siobhan.

It was demanding a lot of different activities and she couldn't do one of them.

Instead of melting down into her boredom, however, she had decided to fight it. Looking around (only, however, in the exact radius of looking straight ahead or trying to catch what was in her periphereal vision), Niamh caught the image of General West as well as a gaggle of noble women, all dressed to impress. She herself wasn't dressed half as decorously as they if only because she had rebelled and sworn to her father that she was not, in any way, shape, or form, going to wear yellow. It made her look ghastly, to be honest. Instead, she had settled on a very dark blue with pearls on it. The sight of her in such a thing was not as brightening or attention grabbing as the other sights of vibrant pink, red, yellow, green and so on, but she was comfortable in it. At this rate, being unnoticed was going to be easy and fun. She didn't like half the looks other women were giving those who had somehow outdone them and was glad to be out of that.

Not to mention that if she didn't have to talk, no one would realize that she was sounding raspy or sore throated simply because she had argued with her father that morning over the dress and yelled so much. In her defense, it was a gaudy dress and part of her thought he was trying, once more, to use her politically for his own advantage at court by attracting a male's attention. After all, yellow was not a subtle color. Especially on someone whose pale skin and dark hair would make it so ugly that people would have to look.

In anycase, she stared at the people in front of her, thought of their dresses like animals. The one with all the poofs on it...could be...a bird of some sort. She thought of puffy birds that she had seen and finally decided on a chicken with its feathers ruffled. She looked a bit to the left and saw a woman in black with yellow slashings. She thought she looked like a crow. When the woman turned her head slightly and Niamh saw the sharp, large nose, she realized she had chosen properly.

She turned her gaze to the right, she caught her eyes on the General again. What animal he was, she couldn't decide but she knew what kind of human he was: one that was lonely, depressed, and remembering. What was he thinking of? She stared for a moment then remembered that he had once been married before and that his wife had died long ago. A love match, people said, and looking at his face now, she realized the truth in it. The general was remembering his own wedding day.

Realizing that, Niamh looked at the bride. How would Hanna feel in twenty years about this day? Would she remember it with joy? Passion? Sorrow? Would she be content with what she had: a king to love her, a kingdom to help rule and decide matters on, and a court to protect her children from?

The bride wasn't beautiful, true, but neither was Niamh and somehow, that warmed the lady's heart to the new queen of Thiasa. If Hanna proved as brilliant as she was ugly, Niamh had a feeling that she and this new queen would get along. They weren't even that far apart in age with Niamh being sixteen and Hanna being...how old was it? Fourteen? Fifteen? Whatever the age, Niamh was determined to meet and make an impression on the queen of Thiasa. It was an influential role for certain and Niamh wanted to be friends with her. It was a step in the ladder, a step up the pyramid to Niamh's one dream.

One thing filled Hanna's thought as she walked, all eyes upon her: she was just so young. She was sure that the King had thought of this too, but he had no other choice, and neither did she. Why, she was barely old enough to carry children. It had only been about eight months before she had become "fertile". Not many girls would be married at that age, she was sure of that. Would that be something to be proud of, though? Hanna found that hard to tell, but know that she was certainly thankful for being married to a man who could certainly provide for her. Unfortunately that would probably be all the he would do. During their conversation she knew he was not exactly enthralled with her or the idea of marrying her. Well, she couldn't expect him to be happy about the arrangement, could she? After all, she knew that no one would even think she was beautiful at all.

What did bother her, was that he seemed to be constantly distracted. He seemed to look at her with a blank, uninterested look. What was he thinking. It was certainly far too early to make any sort of guess. All she could think of, was that it had to do with her, the wedding, or his country. Even then, she could still be wrong. She certainly was no mind reader. Hanna could not help but let out a very small almost inaudible sigh. Even though King Aeden looked at her, he wasn’t really looking. It was as if she was not there at all. Would things always be like this? She began to wonder if not marrying would be better considering how he would most certainly ignore her after she gave birth to an heir. But then again, being Queen did give her perks, and to think of what would happen if she refused to marry Aeden? Hanna could not imagine the chaos it would bring if she turned back now.

Standing there, Hanna did her best to ignore the stares and concentrated on the beautiful flowery words. Then, the moment came. Aeden said his vows, and as he held her hand ready to place the ring on her finger, the man addressed her:

"Hanna Blauvelt, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, wilt thou love him, and honor him, keep him and guard him, in health and in sickness, and forsaking all others on account of him, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Hanna swallowed and gave a nod. “I do” she said.

Darien observed the ceremony with only mild interest. His mother, who had come with him on this blasted occasion, was crying a bit too loudly for Darien's tastes. Darien did chuckle to think that she was not crying for happiness, but of sadness because his sister would not be the King's bride. Darien did chance a quick look around to see if he could find his sister, but she had been delayed and Darien did not notice if she had arrived or not. Their mother would be outraged if she did not arrive.

As the bride made her way down the aisle, Darien's eyes went wide. He had not had the "pleasure" of meeting Lady Hanna, and now he saw why. The women in court that he would typically speak to were beautiful to the eye. This woman was an atrocity of nature. Darien prayed that as the young girl got older that she would grow to be prettier, for the King's sake in any case.

As his eyes followed the bride down the aisle, they fell upon a sight that was truly beautiful at first. Lady Elayne Argyle seemed beautiful today, though there seemed to be some extra redness on her cheek. Darien fought the urge to run over to her, which he found rather easy to do when he followed her gaze at the King. The pompous ass naturally did not notice anything, but Darien did. He saw the blush to Elayne's face, and the obvious staring at His Majesty. Then, as if she had finally noticed what she was doing, she had put her head down to stare at the floor. Darien took a deep breath and looked forward at the royal festivities. He disguised the anger on his face with pride and respect for his monarch.

Darien looked at the woman and then back to the King. Darien fought the urge to laugh when the Cardinal mentioned forsaking all others. No man, not even a king, has that much strength, and it was apparent that Elayne may be open to the possibility. Darien fought the tear that came to his eye, and clenched his fists as his heart began breaking slowly.

s

There it was. Written all over his face as if someone had socked him in the stomach and then in the nose as well. He loved her. Lord Darien Lawley was in love with none other than Lady Elane Argyle. Niamh saw it clear as day from where she was sitting, her dark eyes suddenly dancing at the prospects she saw there.

The lord to the Lawley estate was in love with a girl who wanted the king. Honestly, she couldn't have set it up better herself. The sixteen year old merchant-knight's daughter was ecstatic to see it and already her mind was making plans. So far, the ideas she had were simple and easy to put into play. She would ask Lord Darien to meet her somewhere, probably away from the Keep since she knew that everyone around here listened in on her conversations now. She would probably send him a note, anonymous, asking him to meet her somewhere on the grounds. There, she would propose a deal between them. What the deal for her would be...she wasn't sure yet, but she was sure that it would work. After all, she knew the leverage now and she could work with it.

Looking over at her father (who glared at her for showing that she obviously wasn't paying attention anymore), she smiled sweetly. It was so rare an occurance that Sir Anrai found himself staring without taking heed of his own opinions of royal ceremonies (that being that they should be watched and your eyes should be no where but on them.) For a moment, he just looked at her until finally her smile dwindled and the ceremony came to a close. Her eyes...he couldn't tell where they landed but he was sure it was somewhere that he wouldn't approve.

Until he followed her eyesight and found himself caught on none other than....Darien Lawley. Darien Lawley? The heir to the Lawley estate? How high was this daughter of his trying to go?

He looked at Darien then back at his daughter, then back again, trying to decide the connection. Anrai had heard his daughter had been riding more often lately and he had wondered if she was meeting someone out there. Had she been meeting Lord Darien? By God! The stars could not have aligned more perfectly themselves if he had begged for them to! He would have to speak to the king on this matter and quickly! Strike while the iron is hot!

With any luck, that daughter of his would have to consent to marriage due to a child growing in her belly. And since she would want her disgrace covered up (he knew she would, he just KNEW it), she would marry quickly and fade into obscurity and all would be peace and quiet under the McNamara roof.

It was perfect, they both thought at the same time, unaware just how different their minds were at the moment.

She had stared for too long already, Elayne knew that. So she forced herself to turn away. It didn't really matter what she'd look at either, as long as it was not the king. He made her legs jittery and butterflies appeared in her stomach. And this had all been without him looking at her. If those dark eyes fell upon her, what then would she do? Surely she would do something, anything at all to escape? Because if he looked at her, she was sure that he could see right through her pathetic attempt to hide her little crush.

Looking around, Elayne met a familiar glance and her stomach filled with another sort of butterflies. Because there, as if someone had illuminated his soul being, she saw Darien. And even when she had sworn to hate him, she found it difficult to do just that. Even if every meeting between them had ended in disaster, she couldn't hate him, no matter how many times she told herself to. And this confusion brought forth a whole new feeling for her that she'd never felt before. It made her indesicivem insecure and confused. It made her angry at him when he laughed at her but also flattered whenever he would compliment her.

Swallowing, Elayne made her way towards him. Why she did such a thing, she was unsure of, but her legs seemed to move of their own. And there, without having anywhere else to run, she stood before him; Dark eyes downcast, hands clinging tightly to her skirt. She offered him a little bow before her lips trembled slightly and she looked up at him. "My Lord, I bid you have recovered from your injuries?" she muttered, not wanting to disturb the ceremony, but feeling a strong urge to talk to Darien as well. After all, it was her fault he had gotten hurt! If she had just said 'no' to his request to have a ride with her, then... then he'd undoubtly be perfectly fine right now. And hopefully he was. Hopefully he'd offer her that lopsided grin and tease her, like he used to. If he'd only do that, then she'd know for sure that he was back to his old self and healthy.

Darien was glad to see the ceremony finally come to an end. He was not sure if he could look at Elayne any further. He didn't even understand why he felt so hurt, but he did. He had thought...damn what foolish things he had thought. His own sister had probably thought him mad with the way he had been acting at home. Always humming to himself. Albert had probably had a good laugh about it the whole damn mess.

Unfortunately, his mother was the social butterfly, trying to speak to every damn soul in the hall. Darien turned just in time to see Elayne approaching him. Darien prayed that the tears that began to burn his eyes would return from whence they came, and he was almost successful, though he could feel the moistness running down his cheek.

Darien dared to look at her. No smart ass comment. No swarmy remark or insult at her expense came to mind at this moment. He simply turned to her with a monotonic reply, "Not all of them."

Darien then pulled his mother from her conversations and they left the hall without another word. His mother, catching a glance of Elayne as he nearly dragged her by the arm out of the hall.

"Darien that was rather rude, I was conversing with..." but Darien interrupted her simply by pulling his mother's arm harder out of the hall. Katherine Lawley finally broke free of her son's grip and spun him around.

Katherine looked at her son with an odd expression. There were tears in his eyes, he had been hurt by something just now. The very thought that something could move her son to tears was almost laughable. Katherine had thought that no heart beat underneath his chest at all. Something had stirred him. Could it be that her son had been stirred by that woman?

"If you cannot be a gentleman, then you may wait here or in the carriage for me. Unlike some people, I know the importance of making a good impression when in court," and she turned around and marched back into the hall and proceeded back to her original conversation spot, only to find that the people she was speaking with were gone, though Elayne had remained. Katherine smiled and made her way to her.

"Forgive my son, I believe he is preoccupied what with the war upon us. I hope he did not offend you in any way," Katherine said as gave a slight curtsy to the woman. "Katherine Lawley, Darien's mother. Albert tells me that you two have been spending quite a bit of time together. I trust he has been a proper gentleman during that time?"

It was Elena's first time at Court since she was a very young girl, and she found the place fascinating. Soaring ceilings, arched walls, the splendour of silks and jewels, and most of all-the sense of power. It was tangible here. Every glance, every movement made revealed or concealed an individual's power in the world, and the dance was thrilling to watch. There, the great general defending them all from the barbarian hordes. There, beautiful young women twisting men into their glittering prisons. There, the King himself....the leader of the Thiasan Church....princes and lords and everything else imaginable. There, the new Queen....so very young and so very homely. Elena could not suppress a sense of pity for the girl, and quickly lost any desire she had to be Queen. Maybe some other place, in some other time....with a King who was not Aeden, who was so obviously disinterested and lacked fire. Marriage to Aedan would bore her to tears.

Elena looked at the cold king and soon enough could not bear to watch the ceremony any longer. Even though she tried as a matter of principle to be cool and logical, there was enough of a heart in the girl to shudder at the fate of the new Queen Hanna in the arms of such a statue. She felt her thoughts moving instead to Brian, and instantly warmed. How strange he was. A handsome serf with only two fingers on one hand; uneducated to the point of vulgarity; and yet spouting ideas and sentences that would be entirely, purely noble if they were spoken with proper grammar.

Lady Lawley amused herself for a few minutes imagining Brian and trying to solve his puzzle, but then her gaze drifted and she finally caught sight of Darien. The young woman caught him staring and swiftly elbowed Aelf, then turned her own stare to find what her brother was looking at.

It was a woman; a very beautiful woman who had her own eyes fixed on the King. Elena's heart sank, and it was a matter of moments before the lady moved to exchange words with Darien, and he stalked out-was he in tears?- and then their mother swooped in for the kill. The young Lawley could be still no longer, and fairly bolted over to where Katherine was chatting. She gave Elayne a sylph-like smile and a curtsy, and then tugged once on her mother's sleeve. "Excuse me. Mother..."

It was a stage whisper; Aelf was trailing behind and clearly puzzled about what his charge was planning. "Mother, I hate to interrupt, but this Earl-somebody has been staring at me for the entire service and I-"

That was all she needed. Katherine's eyes lit up at such a high prospect for her daughter, and swiftly she excused herself and moved off. Elena watched her go, then turned around to the Lady and looked at her with unusual gravity for one so young....and an almost eerie elveness in her pose and manner. Dressed becomingly for Court, Elena had shed most pretenses of innocence and had let herself reveal what ethereal beauty she possessed; most of it involving the light in her stare.

"So. You are the Lady Elayne." Elena tilted her head, looking more the fairy than ever. "...I've heard that love is a great beautifier. I suppose it must be true, now....my brother looks surprisingly handsome when he weeps, and you...." She allowed herself a trace of a smile. "Well, you speak for yourself."

The bold compliment did not come across as flattery; mostly because Elena never drastically changed her intonation, and also because the girl never complimented falsely. Still she did not linger on the praise, and instead turned her head back to the front to watch the King and his bride. "Still. I'm glad I have resolved never to love....I would rather be ugly than miserable or insane. Besides, I have not mastered the art of weeping beautifully. My eyes turn all red."

Elena sighed, forcing herself to push aside her worry for Darien. He could wait for a hug or other sisterly comforts. '....Poor girl." Her tone was absent. "I hope Her Majesty finds a true friend here, and soon...." She was musing almost to herself.

Aedan kissed his bride chastely, and then stood back while the old Cardinal placed a crown on her head. It looked almost too large for her; she was such a short girl. Too large for all but her nose, he thought unkindly, then frowned to himself and let his gaze fall to her lips, which really weren't displeasing, and the modest display of her cleavage. He could have done worse; and she was young yet. Her wits and her beauty would grow with time.

Still, as the Cardinal went through the motions of the crowning, his eyes roved the room, settling upon the woman whose eyes had been on him; Lady Elayne. She looked older than her years, and pleasingly so. She spoke to a little, rather fey-looking girl with a very pale face and dark hair... was this the younger Lawley girl? The king felt anger boiling in the back of his brain, as it always did when he thought of his least-liked vassal.

The ceremony complete, the King moved, with his bride, to the center of the room for the first dance.

"My Queen," he said, smiling down at her, for the moment all other considerations leaving his mind. "I hope you enjoy the festivities." He would be drinking quite a lot. It wasn't even that she was physically distasteful--she was just so young. What he had to do tonight repelled him, but it was necessary.

The monotone voice and the sudden leave startled Elayne. She had by now become used to his sharp comments, his teasing. She could have dealt with it, she was sure! But this lack of presence in him, that sad face... was he sad about something? He had to be, because he disappeared so quickly, it seemed an unusual move on his part. Normally he'd have grinned at her, told her how he was better than fine and then added some comment that would make her blood boil. Yes, for some absurd reason she found herself pondering his actions. She hated him, so there was no reason for her to do such a thing. Elayne would have followed him out too, had he not grabbed onto the arm of a woman who could not be anyone but his mother.

Still confused with Darien's sudden disappearance, Elayne didn't move from where she stood. She didn't really register the people around her either, until a woman's voice broke through her line of thoughts.

"Oh! It is a pleasure to meet you, My lady," Elayne stuttered, giving the older woman a little courtsy before daring to look up at her. She had to be Darien's mother, no doubt there. Elayne could see similar lines in the lady's face to Darien's. But she was not left to linger much on thoughts, because the woman quickly asked her questions that Elayne surely struggled to find the right answer to.

"And he did not offend me, do not worry about that. As you have said, I have spent quite some time with him, so I am rather used to his behaviour. N-not that he has been offending me in any way before! He's been...quite the gentleman!" To her own surprise Elayne found herself to sound quite convincing. But in many ways she was telling the truth too, because during their last outing he had behaved quite well. The only problem then was that he'd fallen off his horse and gotten quite hurt, somthing that had made her panic.

The girl wanted to say more to Darien's mother, but someone came and interrupted them. A little fairy flew down from nowhere and in what seemed like no time at all, Elayne was left alone with her. And the girl's comment... Elayne could feel blood rushing to her face and felt certain that she glowed where she stood.

"B-but my lady, would life not be sad without love?" Elayne asked Elena, eyes still downcast and cheeks still pink. "One would be lonely without love, and... and no one wants to be lonely." It was her point of view. It was how she looked upon the world after hearing all of Mary's romantic bedside stories at least six times already. Yes, she wanted to fall in love the proper way. A handsome man would sweep her off her feet and then they'd marry and live happily ever after. "As for the art of weeping... No one masters it. You just weep and let locked up feelings out. You're allowed not to look pretty."

Yes, Elayne was as always a bit more free-spoken than perhaps she should. But at least she had learned, and mostly from just her meetings with Darien, to keep her tongue. She looked in direction of the new queen as Darien's sister mentioned her, but she didn't look at the queen. Instead her eyes met the eyes of the King. Just why he had been looking in her direction, she didn't know. But his gaze made her cheeks burn again. But before she lowered her gaze she sent him a little smile.

And then, once she had smiled, she had no idea why. Rather flustered, she was quick to turn her back towards the king, trying to not think of him. It was just that it seemed difficult to think of something else now.

Lady Lawley stared at Elayne in utter silence for the next few minutes, barely able to keep the disbelief out of her face. This woman was beautiful. Undoubtably the most beautiful woman she had seen in her fifteen years-but she was daft. Darien WOULD choose a thickheaded, romantic blockhead to fall in love with. It was just like him.

She was about to reply to Elayne's little speech about love, when King Aedan turned and she felt the pressure of his eyes. Elena did not miss Elayne's smile; in fact it kindled a rage that felt too big to be contained within her slight frame. But she, too, smiled-only she also lowered her head and swept the King a courtesy. She wasn't in any position to greet him with Elayne's familiarity.

It was a relief when Aedan turned back to Hanna. The young Lawley was certain that another second of watching Elayne blush and smile would have made her positively ill. Instead she controlled herself with a titanic effort, and turned her cool gaze back on the woman responsible for Darien's madness..the woman who hadn't even understood her hint. Elena was solemn. "Yes, those old stories are wonderful. Robin Hood and Marian, rogues and princes and warriors...I love to hear them. My guard and I often tell each other. True love...in the manner of Arthur and Guinevere. Or, hold a moment. Was it Guinevere and Lancelot, after all?..."

The idiot woman probably wouldn't even get her meaning. Elayne Argyle had no grasp of subtlety. "That is the trouble with love. It's a thousand blind beggars rooting in the dark for treasure they never recognize, and injuring a thousand others in the process. Fact: Love is not found. It grows. I prefer love in the manner of Beowulf." She doubted Elayne had read it, and doubted still more that she would understand a king's love for his people. "Anyway, it is no use for me to love. My brother controls my fate, and if he is denied his love, he will surely deny me mine. I have injured him enough for it to be so."

There, let that grab her attention.