The king waved a hand, and one of his servants moved forward to fill both their glasses with wine. "You must well know that the reason for the ball was to help in my choosing of a bride," he told her, knowing she must know this much. Even if she hadn't, her stepmother would have informed her of such.

"I am aware of that, sire," she assured him, glancing up to thank the servant who poured the wine. Not a noble habit, that one, but one born of her father's warmth for everyone who worked under him. "It has been the talk of the Kediran court for several months. Though I truly never expected to receive an invitation myself."

"And why not' You are of noble blood. Why should you think yourself less worthy than anyone else? It is not only a queen I am searching for, Lady, but a companion." He leaned back in his chair with a small sigh, unsure how much she knew of his history. Very little where it concerned her mother, it seemed, but he was not yet ready to reveal that, and not with anyone present who might have a wagging tongue. "My late wife, Queen Elena - Goddess rest her soul - was chosen for me by my father. It was a match made for political reasons. There was little love between us, much less companionship. I wish this marriage to be different."

Serafina was silent for a moment, uncertain quite how to proceed. "I was sorry to hear of Her Majesty's death," she said finally, a note of true empathy in her voice as she looked on him. "She seemed a lovely woman, though I could not possibly know. I am sad to learn that there was no companionship in your marriage."

His gaze drifted to that of his glass, as though he was contemplating whether or not to take a sip, but really his thoughts had turned inward to the wife he had never really known. "I am sorry, too," he said, his voice quiet, though he was doing his best to mask the grief and guilt he had felt at her death and was still feeling. "She was lovely, but we were very young when we were wed, and we never seemed able to make a connection. I have many regrets, Serafina. Elena is only one of them, but I do not wish to regret the future."

Biting her lip, Serafina's eyes turned to her own wine glass, untouched, as she considered how she might turn the conversation away from a subject that clearly saddened him. "If I may, Your Majesty ....I have always thought that a marriage where there is not at least mutual respect will never be a happy one. Perhaps it is naive of me. I do not hope for love, but friendship would be something to hope for."

He looked back at her, his wine as yet untouched in the glass before him. There was a questioning look on his face, but it was too soon to ask the questions that were on the tip of his tongue. No, he had to be patient for once and see where all this was going. He would not force her into a loveless marriage, though the prospect of friendship, at least, was a hopeful one. "Agreed. I have learned that royal marriages are not always about love, but if there is at least friendship, it makes it a far more tolerable prospect." Another servant appeared with the first course, a cream soup made with potatoes and leeks.

Again, she thanked the man who served her, blushing a little as the napkin was laid over her lap. She wasn't used to quite this level of service. "I find it difficult to believe you have trouble holding friendships, sire," she heard herself say, wishing she could silence the voice in her head that sounded remarkably like her stepmother, continually scolding her for saying what came into her mind. "Unless you have a fearsome temper no one has ever mentioned in your lifetime."

He chuckled a little at her comment before taking a sip of his wine. "Fearsome, no. I am more given to sulking than to anger, or so I am told. Franz ....the Chancellor ....he is my oldest and dearest friend. We have known each other these past twenty years or more."

She smiled, glad to hear he had someone he could call a friend. At least his life was not so isolated as all that. "So ....if, for example, a woman wanted to truly find out all your little habits," she remarked with a teasing glimmer to her smile, "she should talk to your chancellor ahead of time?"

He took up his spoon to sip a little of his soup. Neither of them was expected to finish each course, but to at least taste a little. He chuckled again, reminded of why he had asked her here. It wasn't just the fact that she looked like her mother, but that he genuinely enjoyed her company - at least, so far. "You can ask, but I am not certain he would tell you everything you want to know. That is, if he does not want to be charged with treason," he said, though the way his eyes twinkled hinted at the fact that he was only teasing.

"Is it truly treason if the question is asked in the best interests of the king?" she asked innocently, but the teasing had not left her eyes. Now he had taken up his spoon, she did the same, dipping her head to taste the soup before her. She was not expecting such a delicate taste, more used to the robust soups of Kediri. "Goodness ....this is delicious, sire."

Frederick smiled, a little ironically. "Thank you, but I did not cook it. I will, however, pass your praise along to the cook," he said, glad she seemed to be relaxing a little and was at least enjoying the meal. He knew it was probably a little intimidating to be invited to the palace for dinner with the king, but he was hoping she would enjoy her time here. "Tell me a little about yourself, if you would," he said, sipping further at his soup.

She hesitated, drinking a mouthful from her spoon as she considered his inquiry. "I am not entirely certain how to respond, sire," she admitted ruefully. "I have all the skills of a noblewoman. My stepmother would say I have all the appearance of a noblewoman and none of the class, but she is a little more formal than I was raised to be. My father preferred me to speak my mind than cower behind my manners."

"I appreciate your forthrightness, but I am not speaking of your skills, Serafina. What I wish to know more about is you. Your likes, dislikes, hopes, dreams, fears, and such," he told her, already knowing most of her history.

That was quite the list of things he wished to know about her. Where to begin" "I like to read, Your Majesty," she offered. "Though I am sure my choice of reading would be frowned upon by most people. I enjoy dancing, too; my father made sure I learned country reels as well as ballroom waltzes. There is something very freeing about the way the lower classes dance, something I could not put into words." She smiled, knowing she had barely scratched the surface of her preferences. "I have a deep distaste for meat of any kind," she added. "It is always so over-salted. Some of the pork served from our kitchens can make my stomach turn just by sitting on my plate."

"Mmm," he replied, which was no reply at all really, an indication that he was contemplating all she was telling him. "I think you will find the meat here more to your liking," he assured her, though there were plenty of dishes that could be created without the use of meat. "What sort of books do you like to read?" he asked, as this was a favorite pastime of his own, as well.

She almost laughed at his question, looking down at her spoon as she contemplated confessing something to a king she hadn't even told her brothers. "I like to read history, and philosophy," she admitted. "But my favorite books to read are those novels that ladies aren't supposed to know about. The romances and the horror stories. Dreadful, I know, but I love them."

He frowned a little, worried now that she might not like whatever dessert the cook had concocted to follow their meal, but the frown was so brief as to be hardly noticed. "Disapproved of by whom?" he asked. "I would not dare deny you an activity you enjoy, though I am not sure if making mud pies is a very queenly endeavor," he teased back.

She snorted with laughter, once again horrified by the noise, offering an apologetic glance in his direction for the distinctly unladylike sound. "By most noble born men and women," she told him with a shake of her head. "And I would not make mud pies here, if I were your choice." She paused, giving him a moment to absorb this before adding, "We are by the sea. I would make sand castles."

"I think sand castles might be permissible," he replied with a smile, charmed by her youthful exuberance for life - something he seemed to have lost somewhere along the way. "I know it is likely too soon to know, but do you think you could be happy here, Serafina?" he asked, a little unexpectedly.

It was not the question that made her blush, but the natural way he said her name. Without formality, without protocol, as though her name was his to use at will, a gift given freely that he then chose to share with her. "I have seen nothing that would make me unhappy, sire," she said softly, barely aware of the servants removing the plates and glasses before them. "I know it is not done for the woman to put herself forward, but ....There are moments when you seem awfully sad. I should like ....that is, if you were not opposed to it ....I should like very much to be able to lift your spirits, if I were able to."

He smiled again, just managing to hide his surprise at her observation. "Lady, your presence here is more than enough to lift my spirits, I assure you," he told her, making no comment regarding his sadness. He drained most of his glass of wine before blotting his mouth and setting his napkin aside, a sign that dinner was, for the most part, finished. "I am told the cook has prepared something special for dessert, but I am of a mind to show you about the castle first, if you would like," he offered.

"Will the dessert keep?" she asked curiously. "I should not like to offend your man, especially since you have already confessed to working hard to keep him your man." And even this proved that she did know something of how valuable a good servant was, something learned no doubt in her lessons with her father's cook.

"It can wait a little while, I suppose," he said, looking to one of his servants for confirmation and receiving a nod in reply. "Well, then ..." he said, moving to his feet. "What would you like to see first' The library or the gardens" Or perhaps the view of the sea?" he asked, allowing her to choose their destination.

"I should like to see it all," she confessed with a rare showing of her own eagerness, rising to her feet at his side. "I defer to your judgment, however. It is your castle, after all. You know it best."

"It is the king's castle, to be sure, but I do not own it," he corrected her, though it was all a matter of interpretation. "I am a servant of the people, after all, and it is only with their gracious support that I retain my position," he explained further, offering her an arm. "It is a mistake sometimes made by royals, I think. That they possess a certain Goddess-given power to rule over their people, given them at birth. While it is true I am king because it is my birthright, one must never forget to use their power wisely and for the good of the people. Rebellions have been born of lesser things," he added, taking a different view than did some of his peers.

She hesitated only a moment before taking his arm, the new position placing them in closer proximity than she was used to being with a man. "My father believed something quite similar," she offered, moving at his side as she was taken on a tour of the castle he called home. "That he had no right to call the land his own unless he protected those who worked it in his name."

"Precisely," Frederick agreed, glad they were in agreement there. He was not looking for a spoiled brat for a queen who might take advantage of her position to make ridiculously lavish demands. He enjoyed a good life here, but it was not so lavish as to put a strain on his people. "I am sorry to hear of your father's passing. I would have liked to have met him." What would the man who had won his Genevieve's heart have been like" He must have been a good man to have raised a daughter such as Serafina.

"I think he would have liked you," she offered softly, but there was a sadness in her attitude as he spoke of her father's death. Three months was not enough time to grieve the loss of a beloved parent, and yet here she was, out in society, courting a king of all people. "He was a good man. I miss him."

"I am sure he was," the king agreed, though he could not add much more to that, as he had never met the man. "I am sure he was very proud to call you daughter," he added, as gently as he could. He turned momentarily to whisper a few instructions to one of his servants before leading her away from the dining room and slowly through the castle to an unknown destination.

"Prouder of his sons, perhaps," she said quietly. "As all men are proud of sons over daughters. But he always made time for me." She shook her head, pushing away those sad thoughts as she brought a smile to her face once again. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, I should not subject you to my grief."

"No apology necessary. It is certainly understandable that you would grieve for someone you love. I would be more concerned were you not grieving, though I also hope that perhaps I can give you a reason to smile," he told her, with a warm smile of his own. It was only a few short minutes ago when she had admitted sensing some sadness in him and the desire to lift his spirits, and now, it seemed he was returning the favor. "I should think that, were I to have only one child, I would be equally satisfied with a daughter as a son," he added, another surprising remark, perhaps, for a man who had yet to produce an heir.

"You have already given me reason to smile many times, sire," she reminded him in amusement, curling her hands to his elbow as he drew her along. "Indeed, I disgraced myself by laughing like a barking dog over dinner, and you said nothing of it at all." She flickered an almost sly glance to his face, curious as to how he would react to her description of her own genuine laughter. "I should hope that I would give you more than one child to love, Your Majesty, were I to be your choice," she offered, this time close to shy. "Forgive me for saying so, but there seems a dreadful lack of laughter and silliness in Carantanian noble circles. Children are good for encouraging that."

"I have heard few dogs who bark quite so prettily," he remarked, smiling down at her as he led her along, hoping that did not sound too much like he was comparing her to a dog. The smile faded a little when she pointed out the lack of children. "Yes, well ....I'm afraid that's my fault again," he said, taking the blame, though there was enough blame to go around.

This, too, surprised her. "Most men would blame the woman for a lack of heirs," she commented, instantly regretting mentioning that at all. But it was true; the blame always fell upon the wife when the marriage failed to bear fruit.

"It is difficult to produce an heir when your wife is living in a separate residence," he pointed out, reluctant to share much more than that. He turned to her again, as they reached a staircase that wound its way upwards. "It is a bit of a climb, but I can assure you the view is well worth it, if you are willing," he told her.

"I see." The faintest of frowns touched her brow as she considered the implications of this revelation. Did he intend to set his wife in her own residence, to visit her only when necessary to produce an heir" Yet that did not chime with the care he was taking to learn about her this evening. It was a little confusing, nonetheless. She looked up at the staircase. "Should I offer to race you to the top?" she asked innocently.

He said nothing for a moment, acutely aware of their closeness, though he was also aware of the need for propriety. King or no, if he wanted to earn her trust and friendship and perhaps even love, he knew he had to be patient, and yet, he was also running out of time before he made a decision that might affect both their lives. Her question drew him out of his thoughts, unexpected and innocent as it was. Almost the kind of question a child might ask, or someone who had not yet given in to cynicism. "I cannot say, though I should think that legends and myths must have some basis in truth, yes?"

"Then I might see a mermaid someday?" she asked him, hopeful and playful. A part of her knew such things couldn't possibly exist, but she did not want to listen to it. She wanted such legends to be true. She leaned against the parapet once again, peering at the sea even as the sky darkened with dusk, as though hoping to catch sight of such a creature in that moment.

He watched her with a puzzled look on his face, wondering if she was asking more than just a simple question. "If you are hoping to see one, there is no better place to look then here," he replied, turning to face her, the wind whipping at his dark hair and turning his cheeks pink.

"I could only look here if this was my home," she countered softly, tearing her gaze from the sea to meet his eyes. "And if I had the right to wander further than my stepmother would allow." The hope was still there in her blue eyes, but it was not the hope to discover some myth lying by the sea, not any longer. Despite his obvious sign of favor, she did not consider herself as suitable to be his bride as the princesses who were eagerly awaiting his announcement at the fete tomorrow.

"This could be your home, if you so wished it to be," he told her, reaching to touch his fingers to hers, despite the risk to propriety. It was an innocent touch, and yet an intimate one.

Skin to skin, despite the chill of the wind, was a new experience for Serafina. He had always worn gloves before now; to feel his fingers curling to hers without that soft barrier between them was enough to draw a tender flush to her cheeks. "It ....it is not my place to ask, Your Majesty," she whispered shyly, her eyes fixed on his fingers about her own. "I would not dare to presume you might ..."

"If I were to ask, Serafina, would you be agreeable to the question at hand?" he asked, not exactly a proposal, but before he could ask her that question, he needed to know if she thought she could be happy here with him. "It is secluded here, yes, but the city is not far, and if you prefer, you can bring your friends to serve as your ladies, either here or at the queen's palace. I do not wish you to be lonely, but I am hoping not only for a queen and a mother for my children, but a companion, as well." He paused a moment as he turned once again to look out at the sea. "Would it be hard to believe that even a king gets lonely?"

His question had taken the breath from her lungs, glad he turned to look away as she struggled to still the whirling in her mind. How had they gone from learning to what was almost a proposal" Why her, and not any one of the myriad princesses far better suited to the role" Yet here she was, alone with a king who not only wanted but needed a bride, a queen, a wife. He had asked for her, and she had come without question. Wasn't that sign enough that the question he had not quite asked her already had its reply'

"My father used to say that the loneliest man in the world is the man who does not have someone to listen in the darkest hours of the night," she said softly, turning her own eyes out to the sea. "I would not have you be lonely, sire. You are a good man, and you have been unfailingly honest with me, where others in your position might have flattered and given half-truths. I find you handsome and engaging; I want to know more of you. So ....yes. I would be agreeable to the question at hand, and hopeful for a life of more than simply looking pretty on your arm." As she spoke, her hand turned beneath his, daring to link her slender fingers between his own, yet not quite daring to look at him once more.

Not only surprised by her response but by the linking of her fingers to his, no smile of pleasure or of pride rose to his face. This was too serious a moment for lighthearted humor - a moment that could change both their lives forever, either for better or worse, though he could not imagine ever being unhappy in her presence. "I would not have you be my bride only because you are worried about my happiness." Her compliments had not missed his notice, but if they were to have a successful and even happy marriage, there would have to be more than just physical attraction, even if that was what had initially drawn him to her. There was no doubt she looked like his Genevieve, and yet, she was not an exact copy. No, she was Serafina, a beauty unto herself and perhaps even more intriguing than her mother had once been.

She blushed, knowing he had caught her attempt not to seem selfish, her eyes fixed on the movement of the waves in the growing darkness. "I would be lying if I tried to pretend that ....that I would not very much like to be asked that question, Your Majesty," she admitted. Just saying that out loud went against everything she had been taught and told over the years; that a woman should be grateful for what she was given and not seek for more unless that ambition was approved of by her guardians. "My stepmother attempted to talk me out of coming to your festivities. She, like I, believed that you would choose a princess; that I was setting my hopes too high. But ....I would always have regretted not coming. I would not be here at all if I did not harbor some hope, sire."

He remained quiet for a moment, debating giving her the real reason he had chosen her, though it was less and less about her resemblance to her mother and more and more about herself and what she had to offer a marriage. After a long moment spent studying her profile in the growing gloom, he turned his head, also, toward the sea.

"My first marriage was a loveless one, as you well know. It was made for political reasons, to forge an alliance with Alanic. I was very young then and less than happy about it. I wanted to marry for love, can you imagine?" A smile formed on his face, but it was tinged with sadness. "My father, of course, thought this was foolish, and demanded I marry the Princess Elena. Rebellious as I was, I told him that while I might have no choice but to marry her, I would not love her or give her children. While our marriage formed the alliance my father so desperately desired and the country needed at the time, Elena and I were terribly mismatched, and I was never able to see her as anything but an interloper. Later I came to regret my actions, but Elena never forgave me. It was too late for us, and she died without ever knowing my love or affection." He sighed with obvious regret, taking most of the blame for that loveless union, though there was enough blame for both sides.

She frowned as she listened to him recount the circumstances of his first marriage. It was a sad tale, though not uncommon. Yet few men took it to such extremes as this man had, to the point of never bedding his political wife or even showing her any real friendship. No wonder Queen Elena had lived all her life in Rombuie, as far from his residence here in Riftfell as she could get without leaving the country. "As you say, sire, young people make foolish mistakes," she said softly. "It is to be hoped that we learn from those mistakes, in time. I ....I do not wish to be married purely for the purposes of begetting an heir, though I know it is my duty. I have a somewhat vengeful temper. If I were to be isolated or ignored purely for not being precisely what was desired, I would likely make your life miserable for it."

He smiled as he looked to her, though that sadness was still apparent in his expression, in his eyes. "I am no longer the willful fool I once was, Serafina, but neither am I young. Marrying me would mean marrying a man who is old enough to be your father. It is likely you will outlive me, but you would be queen in your own right, and any child of ours would inherit the throne without contest. I have, at least, not been foolish enough to sire any bastards out of wedlock these many years." That last part was said with a bit of a chuckle, though there was no humor in it. His had been a lonely life, but lonely by his own choosing, until now. "I appreciate your honesty. It is one of the reasons I asked you here today. I do not want a queen who will coddle and flatter and lie to my face in order to please me and ensure her place here when, in truth, she detests me. I am not an easy man to live with, but I wish for a true companion, one who will not only make a good queen and mother, but also a lover and friend."

He furrowed his brows at her, not only a little surprised by her forthrightness once again, but at the tone of certainty in her voice. Was she prepared to answer his proposal right here and now without giving it at least a few hours' thought' Was she truly aware of the ramifications of her actions" He shifted his weight a little as he considered her statement. "What would you have me do?" he asked, unsure if she wanted him to accept her answer now or if she was asking for a chance to know him better first.

"I would have you afford me the same courtesy that you afford yourself, Your Majesty," she told him, aware that she was just on the cusp of scolding a man twice her age and in a position to have her thrown in a dungeon if the mood took him. "If you feel yourself able to ask the question, allow me the courtesy of giving an answer that will not be changed in days to come."

Behind her, the guard on duty bit his lips tightly together, trying not to look as though he had heard every word.

The tiniest of smirks tugged at the corners of Frederick's mouth, realizing she was going to make a formidable partner in more ways than one, presuming her answer was yes. "Would you like to answer that question now or wait until we are afforded some privacy?" he countered, sounding more amused, if anything, and far from angry.

Serafina blushed at his amusement, wondering whether she really was that funny to look at when she was trying to be serious. "I can't answer the question until you ask it, Your Majesty," she pointed out, resisting the urge to stamp her foot. "The location of the question is entirely your own affair."

"Very well, then," he replied, turning to face her. He would have preferred to have done this in private; while they'd been on the parapet, perhaps, or in his study where the servants were waiting to serve them dessert, but since she was so insistent, then he would wait no longer. He took both her hands in his again, moving to one knee before her, though he was the sovereign and she, the subject. "Lady Serafina of Kediri, would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal to become my beloved wife and esteemed Queen of Carantania?" he asked, as simply put as he could, without getting overly flowery.

For just a moment, she was tempted to make him stay down there for longer than was seemly, just to make sure he was completely aware that she hadn't been lying about her temper. But she wasn't that cruel, and she had rather talked herself into this situation in the first place. She heard a door open further down the hallway, yet her attention was on the monarch inexplicably kneeling before her. "It would be my honor to accept, Your Majesty," she told him, as certain of her answer as she was of anything else about herself. She hadn't lied about her preparation for this little trip across the continent, after all. "I shall try to be the wife you need, and the queen your country deserves."

There was a quiet sound of triumph from somewhere behind her - though she was not in a position to know it, the king's proposal had had an audience. Franz was leaning out through the door he had opened when he'd heard their footsteps stop without entering a room, and at her response to the question, had punched the air, a wide grin on his face. He caught his king's eye, shaking his mace in congratulations, and hurriedly disappeared from sight once again, closing the door with far more care than he had used opening it.

Frederick caught a fleeting glimpse of his chancellor and friend out of the corner of an eye, though it was the beauty in front of him that held most of his attention. He was going to have to say something to Franz later, knowing the man would likely be ridiculously proud of himself, considering he had been the one to invite her here in the first place. He resisted the urge to acknowledge his friend's presence, instead offering Serafina a soft smile as he touched a kiss to her hand and rose to his feet.

"I can assure you the honor is mine, Lady, but my heart is glad you have accepted my offer. I hope you will be happy here, and I will do my best to make it so." He might have said more, but for the fear of embarrassing them both in front of onlookers. "Shall we retire to the study before the cook loses his patience?" he asked, that almost amused smile on his face again. He'd been fairly certain of her reply before she'd insisted on giving it to him, but he had wanted her to be sure. Now that it seemed she was sure, he felt a mixture of relief and joy at her answer, mingled with some nervous excitement.

She laughed, a softer sound this time, but no less warm and real for that, offering up her nerves in a peal of giggles as she curled her hands to his elbow. "I think we should, Your Majesty," she agreed. "I should hate for you to be beaten with a spatula on the night you offered to divest me of my maidenly status for life."

He laughed, genuinely amused by the idea of the cook daring to do anything so bold as that, but also flushing just a little at the idea of taking her virginity. "Well, we still have a few days, at least, before we need to worry about that. If I know the Chancellor, he will not want us to wait very long before a wedding is to take place," he added, settling his free hand against hers as he led her away from the tower and back toward his study in the King's Quarters.

No doubt the news of her acceptance would have spread through the entire castle within a matter of hours, but the servants and guards were loyal to their king. It would not go any further until the official announcement was made. "My stepmother is going to swoon when I tell her," Serafina mused thoughtfully, imagining the sight of her legal guardian falling in a disbelieving heap on the floor in the morning with a surprisingly wicked little snicker. "I feel I should apologize in advance for any demands she may attempt to make of you. She married my father for the advancement; she may well be livid that I will now outrank her forever."

"I will defer to you where matters of your mother are concerned," he replied, wondering if the woman was going to want to accompany her daughter to the castle, which for some reason, was not the most pleasant of thoughts. It wasn't that he didn't like her - he hardly knew her - but he didn't think a meddling mother-in-law would be very conducive to a happy marriage.

"Thank you." The thanks, however, came out in a wry drawl, proving that her stepmother might well be a difficulty in the coming days. Serafina, however, was more than capable of dealing with the woman, and if necessary, was more than prepared to sic the king's chancellor on her if she became stubborn.

They passed a few servants here and there as they made their way to his chambers, and yet, it seemed that the castle was starting to settle down for the evening, turning quiet and almost peaceful as the evening wore on. Inside the study, a blazing fire was going in the hearth, both warming the room and casting a gentle glow, along with some well-placed candles. A servant stood nearby, ready to serve coffee and dessert and attend to their tiniest of whims. Frederick led her to a chair near the fire, where she could warm herself and get comfortable before claiming an adjacent chair for himself.

Settled in the chair he chose for her, Serafina found herself gazing into the fire, a little at a loss for what to do or say next. Though it was not yet official, she was engaged to be married; and not just to any man, but to a king. For a brief moment, she felt the shock of what she had agreed to, before her own common sense reminded her that she had already worried over all the possible ramifications before ever setting foot in Carantania. "I wonder, Your Majesty ..." She raised her eyes to his, feeling awfully shy for a moment. "Would it be terribly forward of me to ask .....why' Why would you choose me, from all the ladies who came when you beckoned?"

His smile faltered a moment, as if this question was the hardest she had asked him yet. It gave him a moment's pause as he considered how to answer. He wanted to be honest, and yet, if she knew the whole truth, she might misunderstand and think he was only trying to replace her mother by marrying her daughter, which was not entirely true. "There are any number of ways I could answer that, Lady," he started, breaking off as the servant poured them each a cup of a fragrant, dark brew that was known in Carantania as coffee.

She was quiet for a long moment, looking into the fire as she assembled her thoughts. "I never dreamed you would choose me," she confessed softly. "I had expected to be danced with, and to be here to witness the announcement of your choice. I could give you any number of reasons why I said yes, but ....there's only one that truly made my mind up for me." Blue eyes rose to meet his, softened to darkness in the light of the fire. "When you let me see your sadness, I wanted to take it away from you. I knew then that I was hoping for more than I should have allowed myself. I respect the king, and I will do all I can to be a supportive queen to him. But I like George Frederick a good deal more, and I would like to see him smile. I would like to be the cause of those smiles. It is very selfish, I know."

There went that brow up his ticking upwards again, mostly at the claim that she was being selfish. "That is not selfish, Serafina. In fact, I think it is perhaps the furthest thing from selfish I have ever heard."

So unselfish, it took a moment before he could say anything further, so touched by her sentiment - so very different from that of her own mother, who'd refused him and left him behind, bereft and heartbroken, despite his declarations of love. He might have even abdicated the throne for her, but that time had long since passed.

"I should answer you question, I suppose," he said, drawing a slow breath, as if to gather his courage. "The truth is I was expecting to choose someone else. A princess, perhaps. Someone young and capable of producing an heir. It did not matter so much who, so long as she was someone who did not come to detest me, and yet, my heart yearns for something more than that. I did not harbor much hope for friendship, much less love, and yet, when I saw you, I started to hope. I must confess you remind me of someone I knew long ago, a lost love, but it is not only that. You are unlike anyone I have ever met. Kind, honest, intelligent and ....You make me laugh. I can assure you it's been a long time since I have had any reason to laugh. I have been lonely, yes. Is it so hard to believe that, of all the women I danced with last night, you are the only one I can imagine filling that void in my life" That you are the only one I can imagine finding any kind of happiness with?"

"If I am unlike anyone you have ever met, then your life must be filled with some terribly boring people," she said with a smile, though she wasn't making a joke of his confession. In truth, it touched her heart that she had made such an impression on a man whom she had been certain had anything he could want at his fingertips. That she reminded him of a love lost long ago could have given her pause, were it not for the way he moved past that with barely a second thought. "I cannot foresee any difficulty in loving you, sire," she said softly. "I will not say I am in love, for we both know it would be a lie. But learning to love you ....that will not be the chore you seem to believe of it. Indeed, I believe it will be a pleasure."

Once again, he found himself smiling in amusement at her reply, but only in regard to her remark about boring people. If she only knew. "I am not so foolish as to expect you to love me when we have only just met, but nothing would make me more happy than for us to grow fond of each other as the days pass," he admitted, reaching across the small distance between them to dare once again to link his fingers with hers.

Her fingers crept into his open palm, her own smile small and soft in the firelight. "That would make me very happy, Your Majesty," she agreed in a soft tone. "Though I cannot deny you have another charm I have yet to see which also helped me to make up my mind." She could turn a serious conversation to humor with anything, it seemed, if the twinkle in her eye was anything to go by.

His gaze was quizzical in response to her statement. She could not be referring to what he thought she was referring to, could she" "I think perhaps you are referring to the library?" he asked, though he was fairly certain that was not what she'd had in mind. "Shall we, then?" he asked, gently easing her to her feet as he moved from the chair. Dessert, it seemed, was finished; they had shared some secrets, but he had not yet fulfilled his promise to show her the library.

She giggled, glad he had guessed correctly what she meant. That he had not immediately thought of bedroom antics was in his favor, too, though she dared not actually admit to that. Setting her cup down, she rose as he guided her to her feet, excitement showing in her smile at the thought of seeing a library that was more than simply a single wall of books. "You know my mind already, sire."

It was good he had guessed right, or he might have embarrassed them both. He smiled with relief, taking her arm once again to lead her to the library, which was another point of pride at this castle he called home. "I am not sure how many novels you might find there, but as I said, you are more than welcome to add to the collection as you wish. There is always room for more books, and when there is not, we will make more room," he assured her, noticing the look of excitement in her smile. "Perhaps we could even read to each other from time to time. Are you fond of poetry?"

"I must confess, I have not read much poetry," she confided in him. "The only poetry I have heard is that awful sickly sweet iambic pentameter verse silly boys think will make a lady give them a kiss. It is perfectly nauseating to listen to."

"Roses are red, violets are blue, I will love you, if you love me, too?" he recited with a smirk, though he wasn't sure if that was the kind of poetry she had in mind.

"Oh, goodness ..." Serafina dissolved into quiet giggles at that, shaking her head. "Shockingly, that is actually better than some of the rubbish I've had quoted in my direction by spotty little lordlings who think a title and an understanding of how to write their own name is all it takes to get a woman to fall in love with them." It appeared that her opinion of the young lords her own age was less than stellar.

"Pardon me for saying so, but mayhap they were not so interested in winning your affections as exploring what?s hidden beneath your skirts," he told her, perhaps a little too bluntly, but she was no child and he would not treat her like one. It was a short walk from the study to the library, their footsteps echoing through the halls of the castle as he led the way.

Her cheeks lit up in a brilliant blush at his blunt commentary on the behaviors of her peers, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. "I very much doubt they would have liked what they found, if they had reached their preferred destination," she assured him, her confidence more than a little unsettling. But then, he didn't know what she kept under her skirts at all times, thanks to a father who'd known what young men were like.

He furrowed his brows at her and might have responded to that remark, but thankfully, they had reached their destination, saving him from having to embarrass either of them by continuing that line of conversation. "Here we are," he said, coming to a halt just outside a set of double doors behind which was the third and last of the things he had promised to show her before the night was over.

Her anticipation was obvious in the way her hands tightened on his arm, waiting impatiently for the doors before them to be opened. Clearly their conversation of the evening had been noted, for every lamp and candle was lit, casting the library in twinkling golden light as she was allowed access at last. "Oh, my goodness ..."

The fire had been lit in this room, too, making the space warm and toasty. The room was decorated mostly in shades of crimson and red, with dark walnut wood bookcases and pillars polished to a luster. A stone fireplace with ornate scrollwork was flanked by bookshelves on one wall, couches and chairs gathered about to ensure the readers' comfort. Overhead was a long gallery lit by open windows and hanging lights. At one end of the space was a small alcove with a desk and upholstered chairs, which offered a small private space for reading or writing. There were several portraits scattered about the space, mostly of past kings and queens and their families, some of whom bore the current king a small resemblance.