July 3rd, 1613

As the King led the Duke of Lonnare into his private receiving rooms, William and Alys made their full obeisance and rose amid a new clamor of chattering and gossip sharing. It had been five long years since brother and sister had been together, much less in the full presence of the entire court, where their resemblance not only to each other but to the king, their uncle, could be fully observed and remarked upon. William, with his tall frame and wiry build, was more a compliment to their father, the Duke of Monceau, in figure, yet his face resembled the king through his mother, the king's sister. And Alys, though the only member of the family with red-gold for hair, was enough alike her brother both in face and in temperament for there to be no doubt as to her blood kinship with the king himself.

The Chancellor, Cardinal Joseph Bereth, still stood nearby, aware that the king's blatant dismissal of him had been witnessed keenly by many curious eyes and inwardly seething because of it. The impertinent girl had not been back at court more than a few minutes, and already he could feel his grip on the king slipping. But to those who were not aware of the details that formed the tension circulating around the Chancellor and the king's kin, his greeting to Lady Alys was warm and kind.

"Lady Alys, my I be the first in the king's wake to welcome you back to Francia, and indeed, into the king's good graces." He inclined his head to her, forcing a smile that could not be seen to have been forced at all. He held out his hand in accordance with the rites of greeting, and was somewhat surprised when he saw no reluctance or disgust on the young woman's face. Indeed, she took his hand with a smile of her own, curtseying low to press her lips to the symbol of the Goddess that adorned his finger.

"Your Eminence, I thank you for your welcome," she told him, the sparkle in her eyes seemingly as much for the joy of seeing him again - which they both knew was not a joy at all - as for the happiness of being returned to her family. "I trust I find you in good health?"

"Thank you, Lady Alys, I am in fine health," the cardinal nodded in agreement. "I hope you will enjoy your time here with us. Such a rose as yourself is unlikely to remain unplucked for long. Lord William." This was a farewell, but at least he had managed to acknowledge the king's nephew without obvious disliking in the presence of the younger man's sister.

As the cardinal moved away, Alys rose out of her second curtsey and turned away, wrapping her arms around Will in the first embrace they had shared in years. "Insufferable man," she muttered against her brother's collar, the words clashing with his own muttered, "Sanctimonious bastard," against her own ear. To the eyes of everyone around them, the words they had spoken, however, were clearly a cause of joy, for they both laughed at their shared sentiment as they drew back from one another, the brother drawing his younger sister's arm through his own with proprietorial fondness.

Friends who had known Alys as a child came forward, full grown in their own right, to greet their former playmate and begin the delicate process of insinuating themselves into her circle, as she had known they would. As the king's niece, she was a friend worth having; as the open recipient of his affectionate favor, shown before the whole court barely moments before, her good opinion could well influence the king's feeling about those she chose to befriend. Yet it was not only old friends who came forward, but hopeful others, most of them men of varying ages and ranks, each eager to make themselves memorable to the newest arrival here at court. A beauty of royal blood was a fine prize, however strong-willed she might turn out to be.

Will groaned quietly to himself as they were surrounded by these prospective suitors. He had hoped to have at least a little time alone with his sister before this lobbying of the meat market began, but he knew it had to be done. He and his father would have to sort through the names of the men who wished to court her and decide whom they would allow the hopeful prospect of more than just her friendship, but he had a feeling Alys would not make that decision easy for them. She was gaily smiling, sharing politeness and courtesy, but there was a detachment in the way she interacted with these men, a secrecy to her smile, that made her brother wonder if she had not already lost her heart to some other gentleman. For a moment, his mind flashed to Charles with deep suspicion, but he shook that thought away. His dearest friend would not dare compromise the king's niece in such a way. He had too much to lose.

As these thoughts swept through his mind, he became aware of a less than welcome face standing beside them, all attention focused upon Alys as she laughingly rebuffed an offer from a man old enough to be her grandfather to take her riding some day soon. Count Francis Denhelm, Will identified this unwelcome man in the silence of his mind, increasing the pressure on Alys' hand beneath his own in gentle warning as the count bowed low to her. A visitor to Francia from the Alanic court, Francis Denhelm had brought with him his loose morals and roving eye, and rumor had his conquests listed in the dozens already. Infuriatingly enough, one of these conquests was also the king's own sister, Cecile, the mother of William and Alys themselves, though Will had not had a chance to impart this information to his sister as yet.

Alys found herself smiling at the man who bowed before her, taking in the unfamiliar fashions of Alanic with a well-trained eye, feeling the faint pressure on her hand from her brother's palm. Made aware that something about this one made her brother wary, she kept her curtsey as close to the line of courtesy as she could, taking that moment to study the man as he presented himself.

"Sweet lady, if I may have the honor of your name," he declared, the flourish of his speech setting her teeth on edge with ease. "I am Count Francis Denhelm, a visitor from the court of King Charles, and I submit myself to you, a poor supplicant in search of grace from beauty personified."

Oh, good Goddess, Alys found herself thinking, just barely keeping her amused dismay from her face as she answered. "I need no submission, nor any supplicant, my lord," she informed him, through as sweet a smile as she could muster, wishing all the while that her own Charles was there to scowl and glower and send this fop running for the hills. "I am Alys Marillier; I am sure you have met my brother, Lord William."

The expression of hopeless devotion on the count's face faltered a little, displaying a calculation in his gaze that she did not miss. This was a man to be wary of, she realized, wondering if he knew the meaning of certain words he must have heard before. She watched as he drew his expression back under control, seeing the cool courtesy as it formed between her brother and the count.

"Indeed, Lord William," Count Denhelm greeted her brother a little stiffly. "How is her divine highness, your mother?"

Alys felt the tension in her brother snap suddenly to breaking point; a glance at his face showed her that his temper was only barely held in check. She wrapped her other hand over his at his elbow, a gentle reminder that violence was not permitted at court, and was not surprised when he withdrew it from beneath her palm only to trap both her hands securely against his arm. That was more protective than she had expected, and confirmed her initial impression of the count without the need for words. A man not to be taken lightly, nor yet encouraged in his pretensions.

"Our mother is well, sir," Will nodded coldly to the count. "If you would excuse us, Count - it has been many years since I have seen my sister, and we have a great deal to share."

"Of course, of course." The count bowed effusively to the brother and sister, denied the chance to kiss Alys' hand by the firm grip her brother had on both her hands. "Lady Alys, it is a pleasure to have made your acquaintance. I may hope that we shall share more, in time."

William shook his head at her back, assuming she was disinterested in discussing marriage for anyone, and turned his grin back to Charles. "That is a delicate question for anyone who knows her, as you well know," he told his friend with good cheer. "I would not have her wed and be sent to another country, nor yet keep her alone. But is it too much to ask that she stays untouched a while longer in the company of her family?"

"Have you thought what her wishes might be regarding her own future?" Charles countered, his gaze briefly following Alys' presumed disinterest in the subject matter, which he knew was not disinterest at all. "Alas, no, the king has not arranged a match for me," he continued, turning back to William with a serious expression on his face, all joviality forgotten for the moment. "But he has given me permission to court a lady of my own choosing," he continued, reaching into his doublet and pulling out a neatly folded piece of parchment which bore the king's signature and seal and detailed the agreement between himself and the king which allowed Charles to officially try to win the hand of the Lady Alys. He handed the document to Will, his gaze turning back to Alys.

Perhaps he should have asked for Will's permission first or that of Alys' father, but ultimately, it was the king whose authority he would have to seek if such a pairing was to take place. He only hoped Will would understand that Charles had not purposely gone over his head, but that he'd had no choice but to seek the king's permission.

"We hadn't got to that yet," Will assured him, still grinning at the chosen topic of conversation. He was fairly sure his sister had her eye on someone, but he knew as well as she did that it was subject to the king's approval. As Charles delivered the news that he had not been betrothed in his absence but given a high sign of favor to court whom he chose, his friend chuckled again, taking the parchment with interest. "I pity the lady, for you are not made for fidelity," he began, his eyes scanning the document.

As the written words sank in, his grin faded, his eyes rising to look at his sister. She had turned back to them, and though she had promised herself and Charles that she would not betray their shared wish, she could not hide the hope in her smile as she gazed at her brother's friend. Will's jaw set hard as he handed the parchment back to Charles. "Come," was all he said, turning on his heel to stride away from the other courtiers in sight, into the greenery of the hedge maze, thankfully unoccupied at present.

Charles' eyes met Alys' for a moment and held her gaze, that same look of hope in his eyes and on the warm smile her afforded her across the short distance that stood between them. He knew Will had little faith in him as far as his fidelity was concerned, but Charles had never met anyone who meant as much to him as Alys. He hardly noticed Will's reaction to the parchment as his friend handed it back and he returned the document to a place of safety. He suspected he would not be happy with such a match, until and unless Charles proved himself worthy, but that was only a matter of time. He made no move to offer Alys his arm, waiting until they had William's blessing to openly and publicly court her. He owed his friend this much - that he should know before anyone else and hopefully be happy for them.

Charles offered Alys a small bow, extending an arm to indicate she should follow her brother, falling into step behind the pair, daring to hope his closest friend would come to understand what had happened and how much this all meant to both Charles and Alys.

Despite the unexpected hope that had risen in her heart on hearing that Charles had her uncle's permission to court whom he chose - assuming that his choice would be herself - Alys knew her brother well enough to understand the hardness in his voice as he instructed both friend and sister to follow him. He was angry, though for what reason she could not be sure. Casting a worried glance to Charles as he indicated that she should follow on first, she did so, allowing her brother to lead them both into the shadow and seclusion of the maze. "William -"

But her brother was in no mood to be charmed, cajoled, or placated by his sister. he turned back to them abruptly, laying a hand on her shoulder to guide her from between himself and his oldest friend. "This is not your concern, Alys," he informed her coldly and, as the king himself had predicted, threw a balled fist in the direction of Charles' face. "What the hell did you do to my sister?"

Charles had not placed Alys between them to protect himself from the punch that he knew would find its way toward him. He could not say he blamed William; after all, Charles' reputation around court didn't bode well for any lady who might decide to tame him, but something had changed while he'd been away - he had changed, or so he believed. He avoided his friend's fist easily enough, catching it in his own hand and pulling him toward him, his expression pleading for a moment's reprieve so he could explain, meeting the other man's gaze unflinchingly. "I did nothing, I swear. I ask as your devoted friend to give us a chance to explain."

"Us?" His fist caught and held useless, William's shock was all the more palpable for how close he now stood to his friend. His face paled and colored in quick succession, his eyes turning to glare down at Alys, who stood as close to them both as she dared to. "Alys, you didn't," he breathed, horrified that she would compromise herself so thoroughly before ever even reaching the court. "Please tell me you didn't."

She met her brother's glare with a fierce glare of her own, her chin held high, proud of the infraction he had so accurately assumed had come to pass. "It is true, Will," she told him, her voice firm, but quiet for fear of other ears listening for the sound of argument. Her hands crept into the crook of Charles' elbow, the closest she dared come to an embrace even here. "He did nothing I did not ask of him. I swear it."

Charles' face paled to match his friend's as nearly the entire truth came out, a truth that not even the king had guessed at, or if he had, had not pursued. Charles had told the king nothing had come to pass between them and had given him his word. If his word proved to be false, there was no telling what punishment might await him, even if he was a favorite of the king's. "It was unplanned and unexpected, and it will not happen again." This Charles said as he glanced to Alys, emphasizing the need for discretion and to abide by the terms the king himself had decreed. If he failed to abide by those terms, he could lose her forever. Between the two of them, he needed Alys to understand how precarious his situation was. She, herself, had warned him of such. "The king has agreed to let me court her, Will," Charles pointed out as he turned back to William. "He has agreed to nothing more."

"But he has shown his favor to the prospect of a match, without even thinking to consult her father or her brother," William spat angrily, wrenching his hand from his friend's grasp. "You have both put yourselves in great danger. The king's own secretary is Bereth's man, do you suppose the cardinal does not already know what you propose" Alys, you are skirting the edge of the abyss already, and you have not been back at court more than two hours!"

But he did not miss the way her hands tightened about Charles' arm, taking comfort from the man at her side rather than her brother as the danger was made clear. She had not known just how much power the cardinal had accrued, and knowing it brought the prospect of punishment a great deal closer. Will looked between them both once again, wishing he could stay angry, but knowing that it was concern for them, love for them, that made him speak harshly. "Of course you must court her, Charles," he snapped irritably. "And you must stand by and let others court her, and you, Alys, must accept those others with the same warmth you show to him. If you show favor too much or too soon, Bereth will make his move, and it will bring us all down."

"And if he'd thought to consult you, what would you have said" Would you have been for me or against me, Will" You seek to protect her. Who better to protect her than one you think of as a brother?" But Charles knew all of this was moot in light of Will's fear for his sister and his friend. "Perhaps I have acted rashly," Charles admitted, frowning sourly, even as he let go of Will's hand to rest his own atop of Alys', turning his gaze toward his lady love, making no attempt to hide his feelings, letting both Alys and William see the longing for her he held in that gaze. "I love her, William. I see now that I have always loved her, and if my love for her is to be my downfall, then I accept my fate and the consequences of my actions. I cannot live without her, and she feels the same about me." It was the first time he had declared his love for her in so many words, and seemed fitting it be done so with William to witness.

Standing apart from them, William snorted with laughter, keeping his face turned away. Whatever reservations he might have had about setting his sister with his friend were quickly being wiped away. Charles already had his hands full, and they weren't even supposed to be betrothed yet.

"Might I remind Her Ladyship that I have already felt her wrath several times and have survived it, but if she would only grant me her favor upon the field, all such consequences might be avoided," he countered, his smile softening as he offered her his arm and drew her a fraction closer. "You need not worry about me being tempted by other women. All of them pale beside your beauty, and my heart beats only for you," he told her further, chancing another snort from his friend who he was trying his damnedest to ignore. Pretty words he may or may not have said to other women before, but never with the sincerity he felt for them now, meaning every word of what he said.

Her expression flickered from warning anger to amusement, her hand rising to lay gently against his cheek - the same place where she had slapped him so soundly not even a week ago. Despite his obvious amusement at their speech back and forth, she found it easier to ignore her brother, her eyes focused upon the man so close to her as her body turned without prompting to face his, stepping close. "You love me?" she asked softly, gentle incredulity touching her expression along with the hope that she had heard him right, that he hadn't been offering up words simply to make his case lie better with her brother.

He did his best to ignore William, unembarrassed by the soft words of affection he was lavishing upon Alys, the likes of which he had never truly felt before. He smiled warmly down at Alys and drew her hand away from his cheek to bring it to his lips. "Is such a thing so hard to believe coming from me?" he asked before brushing a gentle kiss against her hand.

Her fingers curled gently in his grasp, the soft tickle of lips and beard against her skin offering up a sweet tingle that spread fresh color over her face. Her smile warmed, amber-flecked eyes sparkling with the tender affection she had only just put a name to, and that, to her brother's face without confessing it first in private. "I did not expect it so soon, perhaps," she admitted quietly, knowing she was privileged indeed if he could so openly give her such binding words. "But I have always known you were capable of love, even if you preferred to play at conquest with others." She was teasing him again, the brief flare of her temper gone for the moment. And chaperoned, even if Will was steadfastly examining the hedge and pretending to have gone deaf, she didn't need to fear gossip that might harm them in the wake of the king's permission given.

"It is true," he admitted, lowering his hand to hold it close to his heart. "I have never really understood love before, not the kind of love that is shared between a man and a woman. I always thought it was not meant for me, that I would never meet anyone worthy of my heart, but now I know it was you all along. It was you who stole my heart years ago, and I have never found anyone who could take your place."

Her brow rose in playful challenge, the lips he had already tasted and was promised to taste again twitching into a somewhat wicked smirk. "Years ago?" she repeated, daring him to go into further detail and possibly reveal that he had not made a play for her when she had been a free virgin. "Tell me, Your Grace ....was it my absence that made me worthy, or the fact that I dared to strike you?"

"You've no idea how I felt that day," he said with a frown, his glance darting briefly to Will's back, not really wanting to open his heart to her in front of her brother, even if he was his closest friend. There were reasons he'd acted as he'd acted, reasons he'd not revealed his true feelings, reasons he'd let everyone around him assume he was shallow and uncaring. "You have always been worthy, Alys. It is I who am unworthy," he replied, with a bow of his head.

She followed his glance toward her brother's back, wondering just how long Will was going to keep up this pretense that his sister and closest friend were not sharing a moment far too intimate barely feet from him. Her hand not held by his rose to lift Charles' chin, guiding his gaze back to hers. "You are not so unworthy as you think," she promised him, her tone rich with more than mere sentiment. "And if you will not believe me, then believe the king. He thinks you worthy of me, or he would never have given you the time of day, much less terms to pay heed to." Another glance was flicked toward her brother's back and, secure in the knowledge that he was not watching them, she lifted herself up onto her toes, the tip of her nose nudging at that of her chosen lover. "I think my heart will break a little each day until I can call you my own."

His gaze softened as his eyes met hers, and he lifted a hand to touch her face, grazing her face with his fingertips. "I am already yours, my lady. My heart belongs to you and you alone. I will abide by the king's terms, as he has decreed. My fate is in your hands." Whether she chose him in the end or not was completely up to her, but he knew her heart as well as she knew his. Unless someone unknown unexpectedly came and swept her off her feet, he felt secure in his position. Nothing could go wrong; he wouldn't allow anything to go wrong, not now, not when they wanted this so badly.

"Kiss me, Charles," she pleaded in a soft whisper, her hand tightening in his even as her cheek tilted into his touch, fond and impatient for the waiting to be over. Yet they both knew that, even with the king's blessing as yet unannounced, it could be months before Christian deemed his terms kept to and the new duke worthy of a betrothal and marriage to his niece. "It could be weeks before we have another such chance."

As much as he knew he should not be kissing her, he could not resist the temptation, nor could he deny her request. Christian's terms were clear, but it was only a kiss, nothing more. He would have to be far more careful than they'd been on their journey or risk losing everything, but this one chaste kiss in the company of a chaperone whom they both trusted more than anyone was hardly much of a risk. His fingers strayed, tracing her cheek, as he bent his head to touch his lips to hers in a kiss that was warm and tender and silently promised of his abiding love.

It was everything she'd asked for and still not enough, and she knew she was going to have to be content with just this kiss for however long the wait should be. Alys leaned into him as he kissed her, wanting to cry for the distance they had to keep from one another from this moment onward, but far too proud to let even these two men, whom she loved so dearly, see those tears.

As it was, the kiss did not last long enough for her pleasure, interrupted by a groan from William. "Oh, sweet Goddess, do you have to?"

"If you must share her with another man - if you must give her to another man..." Charles started, correcting himself, his eyes on Alys as he addressed her brother who might or might not be watching, but who seemed to know precisely what was going on between them. "Who better than one who loves her as much as I, who loves you both as much as I." It was a rare occasion that Charles openly spoke his heart, and he knew he was taking a chance doing it now. While Alys might not laugh at him, Will was another story. "You who are like a brother to me, who I have always wished to be my brother."

Will had, in fact, turned to look at them when the cadence of their voices had ceased, and was even now grimacing as though he'd just swallowed something particularly nauseating. It was just as well that they both knew him as well as they did - he was playing the part of the aggrieved brother with too much enthusiasm for it to be truth. "Brother or not, you're talking to me with a mouth you have only just removed from my sister," he pointed out, and winced as Alys reached out to punch him smartly in the arm, chuckling at her indignant reaction. "You really think I'm going to get in the way of this" Not even I'm stupid enough to deny the Goddess a love match, no matter how revolting I may find it." This time, he caught his sister's hand as she lashed out at him again, pulling her to his side with a laugh. "You should wash thoroughly, Alys," he advised her, eyes dancing with mischief. "Goddess alone knows where else his mouth has been recently."

Even Charles was laughing now as the three of them cavorted in public, as they once had as children, the laughter of onlookers only spurring them on. Christian had once remarked that if Charles had not been so formidable in battle, he might have made a fine court jester, but that had been years ago. Now they were grown and things had changed, but not so much as they might seem. Loyalties were still the same, whether one was an ally or an adversary.

His back to the approaching group, Charles did not notice the queen, until he saw both Will and Alys offering someone of import a cordial greeting, and he spun around, thinking it was Christian that was behind him, surprised to find it was the queen. His eyes widened for just a moment, before he recovered his composure and he affected a low courtly bow, prettily done. "My pardon, Your Majesty," he apologized, as sincerely as he was able.

Queen Romola, unsmiling as always and garbed in black as though constantly in mourning for the fact that she was married at all, surveyed the trio with palpable disapproval. It was not that she did not like them, but more that they never seemed to behave in a manner befitting the king's kin and favorites. "Your Grace," she greeted them in order of rank, her accent still thick after eighteen years here in her husband's realm, "Lord William, Lady Alys." She paused to allow them to rise from their obeisance before continuing. "Lady Alys, I am come to ask if you will accompany me to visit with your lady mother."

Set a little off-balance by a sign of favor she had not been expecting, nor had she ever thought to receive from the queen herself, Alys hesitated a moment, glancing at her brother and Charles before remembering herself. "Of course, your majesty," she agreed with polite warmth for her aunt by marriage. "My thanks." Romola inclined her head to them, and turned to go on her way, her ladies gathered about her. Alys spared a last glance to her companions, rolling her eyes at the formally dour group she now had to join, and fell into step, leaving the men to themselves for now.

Will watched as the group moved away from them, Alys' bright court dress standing out among the blacks and browns of the Queen's household. "Looks like a rose in a sh*t-house, doesn't she?" he murmured under his breath to Charles, his smirk returning at his own less than courtly observation.

Charles was unable to hide the scowl from his face as their beloved Alys was stolen away from them for even a little while. He did not mind sharing her with Will or Christian or even her mother and father, but there was something about Romola that had always set Charles' teeth on edge, though he'd never quite been able to put his finger on what it was. "I shall never allow her to dress in anything but bright, happy colors, as suits her," he declared, adding yet another item to the list of things he would and would not allow when she at last became his wife. Not if but when, as he had no intentions of losing her.

Will snorted with laughter. "So much as mention her wardrobe to her, and I guarantee your ears will bleed long before she acquiesces to anything you have to suggest," he predicted, judging his grown sister by the standard of his wife. Ursula, while perfectly well-behaved in public, was more than a little strident in private, which was most of the reason he avoided being anywhere in private with her if he could help it.

"Oh, I think we will have far more interesting things to talk about than clothing," Charles replied with a smile, making no mention of the removal of such clothing, his smile only alluding to such. He watched as the small entourage disappeared in the crowd and he fell into step with Will, leading the way back toward the castle. "Come, let's see if we can't appropriate a bottle of wine from the cellar," Charles said, slapping his friend amiably in the chest. "We have cause to celebrate, after all."

"Goddess, that's a sound plan," Will agreed, ignoring the smile on his friend's face. "I'll need a headful of wine to keep the witch's voice at bay." He chuckled, but he knew that expression on his friend's face well enough, not entirely sure he was comfortable knowing that it was now wholly the fault of his own sister that Charles wore it at all. But Beauforte was right in one thing; if Will had to part with his little sister once again in marriage, there was no one he would rather give her to, even without the declaration of love. Even if Charles had not lost his heart, he would still have been a good husband for Alys. As it stood, he was bloody lucky that Christian was a romantic at heart, and not as punishingly practical as his council would have him.

Will shifted, ever so slightly uncomfortable to be hearing about Charles' latest conquest, no matter how honorable his intentions. This was his own sister, after all, and though he knew she was no virgin - was, indeed, a widow of good standing - that didn't make it any easier to be brought face to face with the understanding that her passions ran as high and deep as those of the rest of their family. "She may surprise you," he advised as carefully as he was able. "She knows the risks, Charles. Passion-ruled or not, she is not stupid. And ..." He sighed, wishing he wasn't about to say this. "Knowing her, she probably came to you in the hope that you would get a belly on her. Disgraced or not, that would be one very good way to get what you both want, but it would leave the king vulnerable in your absence."

"Is she mad?" he asked, knowing this was difficult territory for his friend, whose sister was the subject of their conversation, but there was no one he trusted more and no one else to discuss it with. "Does she understand what?s at risk here" I tried to explain that I am only here because of the king's good graces. He could strip me of my title and banish me over the slightest provocation, and with Bereth constantly whispering in his ear, it makes my position here only that much more precarious. We would be safer in Lonnare, but I cannot take her there without good reason, nor can I turn my back on the king. No, we will have to simply abide by the king's agreement and keep our eyes and ears open for Bereth's spies," he added.

"Don't under-estimate her, Charles," his friend warned with a faint smile. "She may be a woman, but she was educated by the same tutors we had, and I understand she took instruction in Edessa to understand the political maneuvering in and around the court. I would imagine she has a better understanding of the dangers than even you do, but knowing my sister, she won't let that worry show so very much. She can play the game, my friend. She's spent two years in Kediri doing just that, and no scandal was ever attached to her name." He tilted his cup in Charles' direction, wondering what made his friend so leery of believing what had been said in the garden. "Trust her, if you can. She loves you, Charles. Loath as I am to admit that ....she's loved you for years."

"I do trust her, Will," Charles countered. "It's Bereth and his allies I don't trust. And Denhelm." He sipped from his cup, somewhat lost in thought as he considered all the enemies he had to be careful of, both at home and abroad. "Clovis is looking for a new queen, but I don't believe Christian would allow that. He told me he would not wish to send her away for anything less than love this time. I thought perhaps he'd be open to a betrothal, but I presumed too much and spoke too soon." He sighed as Will reminded him of the abiding love Alys had felt for Charles for years, a love Charles had once though was nothing more than a childhood infatuation that would disappear once she left court and was married. "Have you heard how it happened?" They had not been back long, but tongues had a way of wagging and news of his rescue of the Lady Alys was bound to reach both Will's and Christian's ears before long.

"An Alanic count who does not know when he is being rebuffed is easy enough to handle, if not with fists then by the sword," Will told him firmly. "And Bereth would not dare to attack a lady, however discreet he was. Christian is too enamored of his sister and her daughter to allow it, even if they were thrice condemned from their own mouths." The reference to Clovis of Valentia was alarming, however. "I will never let my sister be wed to a man who has just concocted charges and had his wife executed like a common criminal," he insisted fiercely. "Never. I'd strangle her myself first." The anger on his face as he considered such a dreadful match was cold where his sister was fiery, but they were very similar in many respects. As Charles changed the subject yet again, he shook his head, blowing his breath through his nose to calm himself as he leaned back once again. "I have heard no gossip as yet. People seem taken most with the handsome picture you both presented as you entered court."

Charles snorted, though it was encouraging to think people actually might favor a union between himself and the Lady Alys, rather than find him unworthy and beneath her. They did paint a pretty picture, a very romantic one, no doubt, but there were plenty of people who would not see it that way, who would assume Charles was merely courting Alys because she was the king's niece and that he was over-reaching for favor and perhaps even power. On the contrary, he was not the type of man who aspired to greatness or thirsted for power. All the favor he'd been given, he felt had been earned, and all he really wanted was to serve his king well and be granted the just rewards due him for such service, the most desirable of which was the king's niece's hand in marriage, for no other reason than that he loved her. He made no further comment regarding the Valentian king, sharing Will's feelings. He would never allow such a thing either and would do everything in his power and risk everything to prevent it. He only wanted to share what he'd learned upon his arrival in court and from the king's own mouth. Instead, he turned to filling Will in on the details of what had happened between himself and Alys during their journey back to court.

Will listened, somehow managing to detach his mind from what he was being told, allowing it to become a narrative of something that had happened to his friend and the woman that friend loved, not his friend and his own sister. The description of the runaway horse and the means Charles had used to bring the mare under control brought a chuckle from Will's throat. He could just imagine Alys' reaction. "And this happened four days ago?" he asked when Charles was done. "When did she come to your chamber" I cannot imagine she waited long after being kissed." Because, like all brothers, he was steadfastly ignoring any implication that his sister had begged to be rutted in a forest like a common peasant.

"Yesterday," Charles replied. The final day of their journey before they arrived back at court. Though it was only a day ago, somehow it seemed like a lifetime ago. "She warned me about moving too quickly, about being too hasty where my desires are concerned, but what was I to say when Christian spoke of another marriage" All I could think of was asking for his favor. All I've been able to think of since that day in your father's library is her." He sighed, pausing a moment to rub a finger against his temple. "Am I such a fool, Will, for acting so rashly' I, who have always railed against love. I don't know what happened. I'd thought she'd forgotten me, despised me even, but when I saw her in your father's library, it all came rushing back, and I realized how much I had missed her."

Yesterday. So that would make it a risk taken at Glanville Hall. Not such a risk, then, since the Earl and his lady were the staunchest and closest supporters of the Marillier family, and would no doubt keep it to themselves if they suspected anything. Drawn out of his thoughts here by Charles' worrying, Will shook his head with a smile. "Alys will, I daresay, strip pieces from my hide for sharing this, but ..." He sighed in amusement. "She was furious with you when she left. She thought you were laughing at her when she was afraid, that you didn't care that she was leaving at all. Her letters were full of it, raging against you for making her think you liked her and then turning cold when she needed you most." He chuckled, rubbing a hand through his hair. "The tone changed over the first year. She missed you, I think more than anyone else. I could show you every letter she sent to me, and in each one, you're mentioned. She never forgot you, Charles. I think she just gave up hoping."

Charles turned his gaze toward his friend, more than a little surprised by this revelation. At the time, he had thought it better to let her think he didn't care, that it was better if she hated him than if she went away to a life with another man still pining for one she could never have. Neither she nor Will had known at the time how much it had torn him up inside. "Why do you think I was not there to see her wed" Do you think I could have sat there feigning happiness when I was dying inside" I thought it would be better if she hated me." He turned his head aside so that his friend could not see the clash of expressions on his face. "I tried so hard to forget her, and still it was her face I'd see every time I kissed a woman's lips. Why do you think none of them lasted? None of them were her."

Will smirked, though not at his friend's confession. He'd always suspected that Charles' heart was already given, which in turn was why so many of his conquests had been so successful and without much consequence. He'd never risked his heart because, even then, it hadn't been his to risk. "Then you should know that she wrote to the king when she received word he was recalling her to court," he told his friend reluctantly. The arrival of that letter had been the cause of much hilarity in the king's private chamber when Christian had read it aloud to William and his father, Edward. "She should have come straight here, as you know, but Alys can be very stubborn." He paused, studying Charles' expression for a long moment before continuing. "She informed the king that she would not return to court before seeing her oldest and dearest friend, Charles Beauforte. Which is, in fact, why you were sent to collect her from our father's estate. She'd been there four weeks already by the time my uncle gave in."

"By being faithful and patient for a while," his friend told him pointedly. "By playing the game with her, and not taking everything you see as gospel. She knows what she is doing, Charles. And I'll keep you alive on the battlefield, even if it costs my own life to do it. Someone in this family should have a little happiness in their wedded life, for Goddess' sake!"

Charles dragged a hand across his face to wipe away whatever evidence there was of his feelings, before turning his gaze to Will, his eyes blazing with anger at his friend's outburst. "The hell you will!" he replied vehemently. "I will not lose you because of my own stupidity or for any other reason. You are my brother, whether it is by blood or not, and I will not allow you to lay down your life for me. There are only two who are worthy of such a sacrifice and those are your king and your sister. If you dare do such a thing, I swear, I will kill you myself for such recklessness."

"I'd like to see you try!" Will's answer came as vehemently as Charles' rebuttal had been, the wine they had shared not doing much to keep them from hasty words and rash anger. "Why the hell would I keep you alive for yourself when I can keep you alive for my sister" How is that not one of those honorable sacrifices you're hiding behind there?" He dropped his leg from its drape over the arm of his chair, squaring up to a friend who was bigger, stronger, and a far better fighter. "You save the king, I'll save you, and that's all there is to it!"

Though it was certainly a very real possibility, Charles knew it was more the wine talking and the passion they both felt for king and kin and each other than any real danger. Whether war happened or not, nothing could be planned or predicted. They would just have to wait and see how it all played out and do their best to stay alive. Charles countered Will's anger with a smile, shifting the conversation away from such dark talk of death to something lighter, more humorous. "Shall I will you the Lady Marguerite's affections, since mine will soon be spoken for" I have seen her looking my way with great expectation, and I fear she is to be sorely disappointed. Perhaps if she were to find solace in the bed of one so close to my heart, she would forget me all the sooner."

Will stared at him, and burst out in a bark of laughter that shook his wiry frame so violently that wine slopped from his cup as the sound filled the chamber. How quickly the royal blood could switch from anger to pleasure, often to the amazement of those who were not familiar with that passionate temper. He waved a hand toward his friend, his cuff shaking as he pointed his finger. "I am not making that laugh my mistress!" he declared in the midst of his hilarity. "Oh, no, I have someone far more interesting in mind." His grin was definitely devious as he shook the spilled wine from his hand.

"Oh, really' And who would that be?" Though Charles' days of hopping from bed to bed were apparently over and he would not be boasting about his exploits regarding Will's sister, he could still swap gossip with his closest friend and perhaps advise him on which of the ladies about court were or were not worth their weight in pleasure. He thought nothing of the spilled wine but picked up the bottle and reached over to refill his friend's cup, who was ahead of his drinking by at least two glasses.

Will's chuckle had turned lascivious as he held out his cup, the expression on his face betraying how much he had been itching to share this new amorous ambition with someone. "There's a new face at court," he told his friend as he sat back once again. "Lady Grace Redding, the niece of Duke Hartley. Newly seventeen, exquisitely virginal, and ripe for plucking. Heard anything about her?"

"No, I have not, nor have I had the opportunity to meet such an exquisite piece of fruit. I dare say there will be no living with you now that you do not me as a rival. All the young virgins should beware." A hint of merry mischief gleamed in Charles' blue eyes. "And the old virgins, too." He extended an arm to touch his cup to Will's, his mood lighter, at least, for Will's sake, if not for his own. "To us, to the king, and to the future."

"To the king!" As the toast made itself known in a cheerful roar that was no doubt audible in the stone halls beyond the door, Will drank deeply, his heart lighter now than it had been in the moments before he had read the document that gave over permission for a known rake to court a woman of royal blood. He was reassured in his friend, and hoped to be further reassured as the days and weeks went by. And as for the distinction Charles seemed to need so much ....let the Coimbrans come, let them break themselves upon Frankish swords. In the hour of that victory, Will was certain, a betrothal would be heralded from the Western Marches to the glittering sea. And how delightful it would be then to watch His Eminence, Cardinal Bereth, bite off his own tongue in defeat.

((Gods, that felt somewhat epic to post. But hey, they made it to court in one piece! Uber-awesome thanks to Charles' player!))