He sighed, seeing her tears, his own heart aching with sorrow at having caused her this pain. Could he have spared her if he had been honest with her, or would he only have pushed her away' "Sera, love ..." he started, gentling his voice as much as he could, reaching to brush the tears from her face, if she would let him. "I have never lied to you, I swear. I did not tell you because ....because I knew how it would hurt you and how you would think I only loved you because of her, but that is not true, Serafina ....I swear it, on my mother's grave," he said, touching his fingers to his heart at the mention of his mother as though it pained him. He wasn't sure if she was ready for an explanation, if she even wanted an explanation. "I understand you are angry, but please hear me out. If you then wish to leave, I will do nothing to stop you," he promised, though it was tearing him up inside to say so. The carefully composed expression was gone, unable to hide the pain from his face, as she was unable to hide hers.

She quieted as he spoke, ashamed of her outburst, knowing that the entire court would know soon enough that their gossiping had reached her and done the damage no doubt some of them had been hoping for. Hiccuping, she pulled herself out of his grip, needing to be away from the closeness that until today had been her refuge against the politicking that filled court life.

"Tell me, then," she sobbed, groping in her bodice for her handkerchief to mop the tears from her cheeks. "Tell me what you should have told me from the start."

He would have offered her a handkerchief and brushed the tears from her face, if she'd let him, but as it was, she had moved out of his reach, putting some distance between them that he did not dare close. He shrugged his shoulders, as if the telling no longer mattered, which, in some ways, it didn't. What was done was done, and there was no changing it now, but perhaps he could at least make her understand. And when he found out just which waggling tongues had injured her with their hateful gossip, he would banish them from court, along with any others who dared speak against their queen. "It is a long story, I'm afraid," he admitted, sadly. Weren't they all"

"It was a long time ago, when I was young and foolish," he said, though it seemed that perhaps he had grown no wiser since then where women were concerned. "My father once told me that love was for commoners and fools, not for princes and kings. I did not believe him then, and I do not believe him now. Be that as it may, I have loved, but have never been loved, except by those closest to me." All this might seem irrelevant to his story, but it might help her to understand just how desperate he'd been to know love, even if it was not to be. "I met your mother at a festival. She did not know who I was at the time, and I was reluctant to tell her. A prince should not be seen with a commoner, you see ....or so I'd been told. She was the loveliest creature I had ever seen, almost as lovely as you," he told her, admitting that Serafina surpassed her mother's beauty, even if she didn't believe him. "She had dark eyes, dark hair, and she loved to laugh. How we both loved to laugh."

Silent, clawing her dignity back from the shreds she had reduced it to, Serafina watched him as he spoke, her arms wrapped about her waist as though embracing herself. As he spoke, she listened, but it was clear to her that she was not angry with him for having loved her mother. She was angry, and hurt, that no one had considered her capable of handling that information. That it had been used as a weapon against her.

A small smile tugged at his lips, but it was tinged with sadness and regret. He turned his back on her then, moving toward the hearth to gaze into the flames, watching them flicker as he lost himself to the memories he had tried so hard to keep at bay. "I would sneak out of the castle each night to see her, eagerly waiting for day to turn to night so that I could see her. It was the first time I had ever fallen in love, and alas, the last, until I met you. I knew I was being foolish, but I didn't care. We shared some kisses, but no more than that. I would not take advantage of her in that way, no matter how I much I might have wanted her. One night, we were found out, and my father forbade me from ever seeing her again. I was to marry a princess, he said. Someone worthy of my bloodline. I told him if I could not have Genevieve, then I would have no one. You can imagine his rage," he said, not bothering to fill in the blanks there, almost feeling the pain of the blows again, though it was the pain to his heart that had stayed with him most. "I was an insolent, thankless brat, he told me. I suppose, in a way, I was. I was born to be a king, but I did not care about that then. I was only happy when I was with her. Perhaps if my mother had still been alive ..."

He trailed off again, not bothering to pursue that train of thought, as it was pointless. "I fled the castle, angry, ashamed, and determined to defy my father, even if it meant abdicating the throne." He turned the royal ring that graced his right hand as he told his story, a sign of nervousness or deep upset that he was struggling to keep in check.

Serafina did not need him to complete the story for her. She'd known her mother was a commoner, sent away from her own country for some reason or other, paid off and married off as quickly as possible. She hadn't known that breaking Frederick's heart was the reason. "And she rejected you," she said quietly. "Because she had already been offered money and a dowry to do so."

"I do not know anymore if I truly loved her or if I was only in love with the idea of being in love, but when I told her the truth, when I asked her to run away with me, she refused. She rejected me, yes. Franz believes she did so because she knew it could not be, but I do not know. I had little choice but to return to the castle and to ask my father's forgiveness. He was not an easy man to please, my father, but he told me to put it behind me and he never mentioned it again, in all the years that followed. I never knew what happened to your mother after that, and I am sorry she did not live to raise you and love you, but I am glad she, at least, knew love and that she gave birth to you." There was more, of course, as that still did not quite explain why he had not told her, and yet, if she thought about it hard enough, she might figure that much out for herself. He bowed his head as he looked into the flames, his sight growing blurry with tears that had gone unshed for many years. Yet it was not Genevieve he was in fear of losing anymore, but her daughter.

His wife was silent for a long time, understanding a little better her own father because of this tale, as well as her husband. When she finally spoke, it was in a voice that seemed too small in the quiet of the room. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her eyes focused on the window across the table from her. "Why did you let them use it as a weapon to hurt me?"

"I meant to tell you ....I wanted to tell you ..." he started, exhaling a heavy sigh. "But how" When? There never seemed to be a good time, and I knew what you would think. You would think I only chose you because of her, and that is not true. If I'd known anyone was going to use it against you ....against us ..." He turned to face her, looking for the first time since they'd met ashamed, guilt-stricken, and full of sadness and regret. "I was trying to protect you, and I failed. For that I am sorry, but I am not sorry for choosing you or for making you my wife or for loving you because I did all of that for the right reasons, Serafina. I did not do all of that because of your mother, but because of you. It is you that I love."

Very slowly, she drew her gaze back to his face, reading the guilt and pain there, recognizing that he had not lied to her. He had been trying to protect her. It wasn't his fault that petty others had chosen to hurt her with a secret they should have had the good sense not to mention in court at all. And he loved her. Her. Not her mother, not the memory of a woman who had rejected him easily in exchange for money and a good marriage elsewhere. In a rustle of skirts, she swept toward him, catching his face between her hands to draw him down into a soft kiss. "I love you, you ridiculous man," she informed him fiercely. "It almost broke my heart to be so suspicious of you, to think that you only married me for the memory of her. You should have told me."

For a man who struggled to maintain a certain composure nearly every moment of his waking life, something broke in him at her reassurance, at her declaration of love - something that had been festering for nearly all of his life. He made a strangled sound as she kissed him, gathering her to him to hold her close, letting the tears he had refused to acknowledge loose at long last - tears of relief, of guilt and grief and most of all, of love. He did not dare speak, did not dare say a word for fear his voice would betray him, though his tears were already doing that for him.

"Good goddess, woman! I don't dare think of such things during council meetings or nothing will ever get done!" he replied with a chuckle. He hardly needed any reminder as his body could hardly forget what it wanted now that she'd sparked his interest. "You still haven't told me what you have in mind."

"Can't you guess?" she giggled, pulling him toward the long table where he took those council meetings. She leaned back against it, drawing him close into a slow kiss, daring him not to act on instinct.

"I can hope," he countered, following obediently as she tugged him along behind her until they came to a halt near the council table. Instinct or not, he surged forward to pull her close, tasting her lips before deepening the kiss. The hell with the council and courtiers. Let tongues waggle. He didn't care, so long as Serafina loved him.

And there could be no doubt that she did. When the door was finally unlocked quite some time later, it was to allow the young queen to exit the room, flushed and giggling and utterly unashamed in the face of the seven lords and the chancellor, who had been waiting outside all this time to resume their council meeting with the king.

"My Lord Chancellor," she inclined her head to Franz with a playful grin. "My lords."

With a last smile thrown over her shoulder, she walked off, leaving Franz to lead the council back into their meeting chamber, raising his brows above a smirk to his king.

Thankfully, he'd adjusted his accoutrements before she'd unlocked the door and allowed the lords and chancellor to re-enter the room. Hopefully, they hadn't heard what had been going on in the room, though it was a given they must have at least overheard some of their argument. It wasn't too difficult to imagine what might have taken place after that, but the king made no mention of it, only clearing his throat a little awkwardly as the men rejoined him, the barest hint of a smile at his departing queen.

"Now, your majesty ....where were we?"

As Frederick settled in to complete his morning's business with the council, Serafina returned to the court, buoyant, determined not to react to any more snide comments nor make any of her own. And, indeed, it seemed to work; any number of sharp eyes became distinctly uncomfortable under the queen's knowing smile over the next few hours, and many of them rushed to take their leave when the bells in the city across the water declared that the causeway was open and the morning done.

It was not an easy task to return to business after the interruption and ensuing interlude with the queen, but somehow the king managed. Not a single member of the council dared ask what had happened, and only when they'd all filed out, leaving him alone with the chancellor did he dare offer any explanation. Still, he did not mention what had happened after the argument, and yet, he had a feeling Franz already knew.

"Well, sire," Franz said as the doors closed once again, meeting his friend's eyes with a warm grin. "I did say she'd keep you young, didn't I?" He chuckled, remembering the rather sweet dignity with which the queen had swept from the room, even under all those fascinated eyes. "Your council will be thinking of her when they bed their wives tonight, you know."

"Let them. It's me she loves," Frederick said, an almost boyish grin on his face. Yes, he had used the word "love". "I do not know what I did to deserve her, but she loves me, Franz. Can you believe it?" He shook his head, hardly able to believe it himself, especially considering how close he'd come to disaster.

"Strangely, sire, I can," his friend chuckled in his warm way. "Am I permitted a small I told you so, or would you rather I kept my smugness to myself?" His chuckle became a grin of his own, more than happy to accept the credit for the indelicate invitation that had resulted in what looked to be a prosperous marriage for his friend and king.

"I owe you an apology, Franz," Frederick continued, his expression turning serious. "I should have told her about her mother. You were right about that, too." Thankfully, he no longer had to carry the weight and worry of that burden on his shoulders, but what would have happened if he'd listened to his friend in the first place"

"Such tidings are never easy to convey," Franz said placatingly, knowing he had struggled with the burden of that secret for weeks. "If you wish, a few discreet inquiries can be made to determine who it was that decided to air your personal history within earshot of the queen. They are the true malefactors in this, no doubt for some petty grievance they will no doubt attempt to deny."

"No doubt, though the queen seems to think that seeing us happy is punishment enough," Frederick pointed out, though he was not sure he was in agreement. He would have preferred to have banished them from court, quietly perhaps, without her knowledge, but that all depended on who it was that had been blabbing.

Franz raised a brow, considering this for a moment. "That is a very subtle form of torment, your majesty," he replied. "Are you quite sure your wife isn't intelligence-trained in secret?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "She is quite right. The words were aired to cause trouble in the royal house, perhaps even to separate you from her. By remaining together, by showing your united front ....by canoodling when you should be in a council meeting ....you do nothing to damage your own relationship, and much to damage the standing of those who think they can leverage concessions among their peers by hurting you."

"That said, I would still like to know who was behind this and whether it was merely a matter of badly timed gossip or if it was done with malice," Frederick said, knowing Franz would mostly likely not rest until he had found the answers to those questions. "I have certainly chosen a lively bride," he said, the hint of a smile on his face.

"I will make inquiries," his chancellor assured him, though it was a pretty fair bet that those inquiries had already begun. The comment on his queen made him smirk a little. "I am not going to ask what precisely you were doing in here, but she certainly gave the council pause for thought," he grinned. "So dignified for a young lady whom we all knew had only just finished doing something scandalous to our king."

"I'm sure the council would be shocked and appalled, but there is no reason for them to know, and it's far more amusing to let them wonder," the king replied, a small smirk on his face at the thought of what she had done. "She loves me, Franz," he repeated again, with a happy sigh of breath. "And we are going to add to the scandal by spending the remainder of the day in our quarters. Alone."

"How marvelous for you, sire," was Franz's only slightly teasing response. "In that case, I should inform you that I have already cancelled your appointments for the afternoon, and rescheduled your dinner with the Marquis du Rellion for tomorrow night." They had been working together for a long time, after all; if Franz couldn't predict how certain things were going to go, Carantania would have been in a worse state by now.

"Are you coddling me, Franz?" Frederick asked, knowing his friend well enough to know that he was teasing him. "You know me too well, I think," he commented further, clapping one hand on his friend's shoulder. "Walk with me?"

"I know what a determined young lady can do when she sets her mind to it," Franz corrected him laughingly, laying his papers to one side. His secretary would collect them. "Of course, sire. A walk may do us both some good, especially since you will shortly have to sit through a public luncheon with your irrepressible wife."

It was hard enough trying to get through the meal without Serafina's tormenting him, but eventually, the meal ended with the king hardly having touched anything on his plate. "I am thinking my wife might be in need of a good spanking," he muttered quietly, for her ears only, while he smiled and nodded to the departing courtiers.

"Try it, and next time I bite," she murmured back to him, her impish barb hidden behind her hand even as she inclined her head to the last of the courtiers.

On Frederick's other side, Franz cleared his throat, utterly failing to hide his own grin. "Perhaps, sire, you should relocate before something else scandalous takes place?"

"Scandal seems to be the order of the day, Chancellor, but I get your meaning," the king replied, turning a smile from Franz to the queen. "Shall we, wife?" he asked, offering her a hand.

"At your command, my king," she answered, slipping her fingers over his palm with another of those recklessly cheeky smiles lighting up her face. "My Lord Chancellor ....Lys."

"Your majesties," Franz replied, bowing to them as they made their way out of sight. Hopefully, he thought, they should reach the private wing before Frederick lost all patience whatsoever.

Frederick wasn't the king for nothing, but the walk from the Great Hall to the private wing that housed the Royal Apartments seemed overly long. Thankfully, no one stopped them along the way with any questions or comments or matters that needed immediate attention, and with any luck, there would be no servants to chase from their rooms once they arrived. Though the king had hardly eaten, it was a different kind of hunger that was tormenting him at the moment.

Serafina, however, was not above twisting the metaphorical knife a little more, however. She was genuinely fascinated to see just how far she could push him. "Your council were all very attentive at lunch," she commented to fill the silence as they walked. "It would appear that several of them have decided I am actually a woman, and not a form of paper doll."

"Yes, well, they did only just witness a display of your temper and would very likely prefer not to be on the other end of another thrown ink well," he remarked with a smirk, his amusement apparent.

"Apparently they also heard enough to spread it to their wives that flirting with you is now a lost cause," she told him, her lips curved in a bright, wicked little smile. "I wonder what they could possibly have heard" I wonder what they imagined I was doing?"

If anyone had flirted with him before she had arrived at court, he had hardly noticed. "Hmm, yes, I wonder," he agreed with that silly grin on his face as he led her toward their quarters. Whatever it was, Frederick knew the truth of it was much better than anything they could have imagined.

"By the end of the week, I'm sure everyone will believe I was stark naked on your council table inserting a daffodil into your backside," she offered sweetly as they reached their rooms, glad that he did not keep a footman there to open this door. Pushing it open herself, she left him with a giggle on the threshold.

"That is ridiculous," he told her as he followed her inside, swinging a quick glance either way to make sure no one had been in earshot of that, not that he really cared. He was the king, after all, but the fact that someone had attempted to come between them still rankled him, even if the attempt had been an unsuccessful one. Still, he'd left that to Franz to sort out.

Sera laughed at his response, leaning against the back of the ornate couch that dominated this first room of their private suite. "You have some issue with daffodils, sweetheart?" she asked him innocently.

"I certainly don't want one stuck up my ass," he said, loud enough for anyone lingering in the hallway to overhear before he closed the door to their rooms and shut out the world around them, for at least a little while. If anyone was eavesdropping, it would serve them right by overhearing that little tidbit.

Her laughter followed that remark, fulsome and without reserve, glad that he was not retreating into manners and customs after their exciting encounter in the council chamber. To go from screaming to love making in short order was certainly a new experience for her; she wasn't sure whether it was for him. "And where are you keeping your donkey these days, love?"

"Very amusing," Frederick retorted, closing the distance between them with a few short steps and reaching out to pull her closer. "I hope that your teasing was not merely that, wife," he warned, his arms circling her waist, as he dipped his head to touch his lips to that sensitive spot he'd discovered just below her earlobe.

Her smile widened to a grin as he enveloped her in his arms, her gasp turning to a tender moan as his lips brushed that spot on her neck. "Yours to command, my king," she murmured against his ear, still teasing, but this time warm and eager. Her fingers curled into his hair, gripping tight for a moment before relaxing. "I want you."

He'd heard those words before, but perhaps for the first time in his life, he actually believed them. Not just because he wanted to believe her or even needed to believe her, but because for the first time in his life, he knew it and felt it and wanted her, too. But most importantly of all, he loved her, and as they lost themselves to each other's embrace, he hoped with all his heart that this love was a love that would last.