July 3rd, 1613

The sixth morning after the Duke of Lonnare and Lady Alys Marillier had left her family seat in Monceau, they arrived amid the bustle of the great capital of Martel. Messages had been sent ahead to warn the king and her family of their imminent arrival, leaving them no time to wile away in riding through the streets, no chance to prolong the inevitable parting. Bannoc Rise was buzzing with gossip and laughter, servants wending their way in and out of the gathering courtiers still as they continued in their duties to prepare for the young prince's birthday celebrations.

As Alys drew her palfrey to a halt before the great doors to the palace proper, she stifled a soft sigh. Ceremony and proper manners would rule her for the next few weeks and months, barriers to keep her from tasting again the forbidden fruit of her companion's company. Allowed by form, finally, to let her eyes rest on Charles, she waited patiently to be assisted from her saddle, some part of her dreading her presentation to the court on the arm of a man she did not dare show favor to.

Helping Alys from her horse was a form of sweet torture, allowed to touch her, but only cordially while in public. How long they would have to maintain this ruse, he wasn't sure. He was anxious to have her to himself, to relearn her completely. Though they'd stolen a few brief moments of passion, there was so much they didn't know about each other, so much to relearn after five years apart. Once childhood friends, they were almost like strangers, and he was impatient to spend long lazy days and nights reacquainting himself with her and getting to know her all over again. For now, he was playing the game well, as was needed, but if it lasted too long, he was in danger of turning sullen again, and that could lead to disaster. He was careful where he placed his hands against her waist, lifting her easily from the horse's back to the ground and offering her his arm, aware at all times of the eyes that might be upon them.

As he lowered her to her feet, she let her fingers squeeze just a little tighter through his doublet, her eyes meeting his gaze with what, to anyone else, was the polite warmth of a friend. To Charles, her gaze held for the fraction of a moment all the heat and passion and softer affection they had begun to share, and now would have to keep a closely guarded secret. "Thank you, Your Grace," she smiled to him, laying her hand atop his as he offered her his arm, forcing herself to turn her face forward and tear her gaze from his. Sweet Goddess, this is unbearable already.

"My pleasure, Your Ladyship," came his reply, returning her smile with one of his own, his eyes warm and affectionate if only for a brief moment as they met hers. He held her gaze for just a moment too long, but not long enough to be noticed by any casual observers. "I'm sure His Majesty is anxious to welcome you back to Martel," he told her in a cordial tone, more for the sake of those around them than for her, as she was more than likely already aware of the king's desire to see her once again after five years away from court.

"If I were to believe anyone's opinion of the king's wishes, Your Grace, it would be yours," she agreed, inclining her head to various people as they passed through, knowing the news of their arrival would be in the main court hall long before they reached it. "Your friendship with his majesty is close to legend." Formal words for the sake of the ears that overheard them, but warm enough to reassure him that certain things were not changing. She could only hope he'd manage to hold his tongue when William inevitably started badgering him about the journey.

Charles knew there were those among Christian's court who were jealous of his friendship and influence with the king; likewise, there were those who felt Charles was deserving of his rewards. He was popular with the people, as his origins were those of a commoner, risen to noble status through both lucky circumstances and his own merit, though personally, he still felt the need to prove his worth unequivocally to both the king and the king's court, especially to those who doubted him.

"The king has been very generous to me," he replied, though this was also something she should already know quite well. He was not sure how well informed she'd been kept during her years away from court, but he assumed William, at least, had written and told her of the goings on in her absence.

"The king my uncle is a good and just ruler," she nodded, acutely aware that this conversation had no purpose than to lay the foundations for her allegiances within the court, as well as reinforce the knowledge of his. "A truly loyal, loving friend to those he deems worthy. And he is the choice of the Goddess; how can his choices then be considered badly made?"

He was telling her not what needed to be said, but what was required of him, not only as her escort, but as an envoy and a vassal of the king. Charles expression sobered as she reminded him, not only of Christian's generosity as his ruler and his friend, but of the fact that he was the one who would ultimately determine their fate. He was the one and only man who stood between himself and Alys, the one and only man who could either grant their wish and ensure their happiness, or decide it was not to be. Charles knew that no matter what Alys told him, his fate was not truly in her hands, but in the hands of their king. "Let us hope he continues to hold her favor," he replied, subtly telling her that he hoped Christian would make the right choice with regard to their lives, no matter what that choice might be.

"I have every faith that he will never set a foot wrong, if the counsel given to him is just and truthful." And in those few words, she had set herself with her family against the Chancellor. Words were powerful things in courtly intrigue; no one who overheard her could be mistaken in the understanding that she believed Cardinal Bereth to be an unjust, untruthful advisor to the king. But there was also a message to Charles in her words, subtle and his alone ....Be patient, and when he asks, tell him the truth. Lies were to be avoided at all costs. Let the Chancellor weave his untruths; Christian would catch him at it someday. Their steps brought them to the entrance to the court hall, and Alys drew to a halt for a moment, unable to keep herself from fiddling with her dress, her hair, wanting to make a good impression on her uncle, however short her presentation might be.

There was not much Charles could say in answer to that. He was as untrusting of Bereth as Alys, though the Chancellor had not yet made any move against him. He knew he was not favored by the man and personally believed him to hold too much power and sway over the king, but Charles was not in a position to do much about it and had to be careful not to jeopardize his own place in the grand scheme of things. He understood what Alys was trying to tell him and took her words to heart, though he was still uncertain whether he was overstepping himself in his desires.

"Stop fussing," he whispered aside to her, noticing her nervous fiddling but not wanting to draw attention to it. "He is anxious to welcome you back and will find nothing to fault you with."

Her hand stilled in the process of straightening the girdle at her waist, that warning flash of temper in her eyes at being scolded, however subtly. But the temper was as much as sign as anything that he was under skin, more reassuring than worrying. "Then you had better get on with it, hadn't you?" she answered, her lips barely moving as the page stepped forward to open the doors.

A moment later, the strong voice of the Master at Arms announced their arrival to the gathered inner court. "His Grace, the Duke of Lonnare, and the Lady Alys Marillier!"

There was a slight brief flicker of a smile against his lips at her admonishment. Life with the fiery-tempered Lady Alys promised to be anything but boring, and it was, perhaps in part, her temper that incited his own passion. Charles' lifted his head, tilting his chin proudly at the pronouncement of their arrival, proud of his achievements, his heart swelling with pride at the title attached to his name and, perhaps more importantly, at the honor bestowed upon him in escorting the king's niece back to court. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to one day be announced as "The Duke and Duchess of Lonnare", with the lady on his arm his beloved wife.

The king laughed at the honest, but hardly insightful response. "Grown enough to tempt most men, I have no doubt," he agreed. "She's as pretty as she promised to be. No doubt I shall have to find her a husband soon or put up with the men of my court fighting over her like dogs over a bitch in heat." He shook his head, amused by this thought. "But what of herself, Charles, her temperament, her moods" She has been without family or true friends for a long time. It would hardly surprise me if she were no longer as trusting of us as she was before."

Charles clenched his jaw at the mention of a possible husband for her, more so at the thought of other men fighting for her attention, when she had already given her heart to him, or so he believed. "Your dear niece has lost none of her fire, if that is what you are asking me, sire. Marriage has not dampened her spirit, and while she truly mourned the passing of her husband, I do believe she has missed her family and friends, you being chief among them." His answer was once again honest, if a bit vague. If he did not answer truthfully, he would be caught out quickly enough when Christian posed these same questions to Alys herself before long.

"There is already talk of a new marriage for her," Christian sighed wearily, shaking his head. "The King of Valentia has made his Queen shorter by a head and is asking us to provide another, but ....I am not inclined to give any member of my house to a man who has already shed blood in his nuptial bed." He lifted himself out of his thoughts, meet Charles' eyes. "There will be gossip. I charge you to assure the lady that I have no intention of sending her from my court for anything less than love."

Charles stiffened at the mention of yet another arranged marriage and so soon after Alys had returned to court, especially to a king who could not be trusted with her life. A small frown appeared on his face when Christian revealed his own intentions for his young niece. "Sire, may I speak frankly?" Charles asked after a moment, his thumb picking nervously at the cup of wine.

For a moment, Christian was the King, regal suspicion in his eyes as he studied the Duke of Lonnare, one of only two men he trusted above all others with his life and his realm. Then he relaxed, understanding that there were some things a friend would not share with a king, and nodded, his expression once again easy. He had an idea what Charles might be about to say - after all, he had never seen his friend walk through the court without setting a ripple of blushes and hopeful smiles in his wake, just by giving out a few smiles to the women gathered there. Yet today, there had been no smiles, no blushes. Something had changed, and Christian had a feeling it might well be the vivacious redhead he had sent his friend to collect in the first place. "Of course, speak your mind."

Charles reflected on his cup of wine for a moment before lifting his head and tilting his gaze toward the king, hoping he was more the friend and less the king in that moment. "You have always been a good friend to me, and you must know I am grateful and honored for all that you have bestowed on me. I also know that I am as yet..." He paused a moment as if searching for the right word. "...untried in my new station, though I am sure I will earn my keep soon enough. I also know it is time I start thinking of a wife and family of my own. It is not my place to presume or to know my king's thoughts or to sway you in any way; however, I do believe I know the Lady Alys' thoughts on the matter, as her thoughts are in agreement with my own."

Despite Bereth's best attempts to keep the king stupid and malleable, Christian was an intelligent man, well able to read the moods and wishes of those closest to him when he was not focused upon being the king and his father's son. "Charles," he warned gently, "you're on the verge of asking for something I dare not give you at this time. Were she any other woman, we could suffer the storm of outrage, but she is my sister's daughter. She is the granddaughter of a king of Francia, and she is most beloved by her kin. If you truly wish this, and she gives her consent, you must earn her." He frowned, leaning back as he set his feet on the ground once again. "You have a reputation for taking many lovers and casting them off without a word. I will not allow you to pay court to a lady of royal blood without first seeing the proof that you are capable of fidelity. But I can withstand suggestions for her next marriage to give you that time for proving yourself."

Charles did his best to hide the disappointment from his face, and yet he was not entirely disappointed. There was some hope in Christian's words, if he and Alys could only maneuver through the obstacles set before them, and the king would allow him enough time to prove himself. "I have sworn to her Ladyship that I will remain faithful and chaste until such time as Your Majesty will grant us a marriage. Sire..." Charles sighed, frowning sadly, giving way to the friendship and even brother-ship the two of them had once shared. "I only ask that you grant me time to prove myself and consider her wishes in this matter. I am your humble servant, and this is the only request I shall ever make of you. She holds my heart in her hands, Majesty. No one is more surprised by this than I."

Christian could hardly believe what he was hearing. Through all their time together, it had been a great joke among himself, Charles, and William, that Charles would never find a woman to match him so well that he could even consider the thought of falling in love. Yet it seemed that in the space of just a few days, he had done just that, and deeply enough that he would risk the wrath of his king to venture so far as to almost ask for the lady's hand. "You said you believed the lady to share your wishes," he said thoughtfully. "She has given you assurances of her own heart in this matter? I do not forget the many reports from the Kedirin court of her gay flirtations, though I do understand none of them came to anything more than a kiss." His eyes hardened warningly. "I trust no liberties were taken while you were on the road."

"I assure Your Majesty that no liberties were taken on my part," he replied, bending the truth just enough so that he was not lying and yet not quite telling the whole truth of it. If Alys became pregnant with his child, the king would most likely grant their request, but Charles did not wish to force the decision on him and hoped he would grant it of his own accord and perhaps even take credit for the match. "I am certain you will find the lady agreeable in the matter. We have both changed, Sire. She has fulfilled her duty as required, as shall I. I would not smile upon a match with Valentia, but it is not for myself to decide."

"Hmm." Christian frowned thoughtfully still, considering what had been laid before him. If Alys had only been a childhood friend, and not his niece, he would not have hesitated in granting the unspoken request, liking nothing more than to see his closest friends happy. But there was politics to consider, and both she and Charles were valuable pawns at present. "I will not approach her, nor will I ask my queen to do so," he told his friend. "The time is not right. But I would recommend that it be you who tells her brother of your feeling for her. Do try not to tell him of her feeling for you - we both know he'll look more kindly on it if she confesses that to him herself." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "The older we get, the more complicated life becomes, Charles. It seems likely that the Coimbran army will invade, and we will, all of us, be away from our ladies to do battle for the Goddess herself."

Charles knew this was coming - this bit of trouble with their neighbor, whose army was a constant threat to the peace of his own duchy. "I would not make her a widow so soon, Majesty," he said, telling Christian in not so many words that any official betrothal should wait until after battle, until the Goddess decided his fate, though Alys might think the opposite and wish to rush things, if only to sanctify their union before he went to battle. "As for Will, he will think I am being hasty and foolish, but once he knows our hearts, I am hopeful we will have his blessing, as well as yours."

"I haven't given it yet," the king drawled in an amused tone, though unless the Cardinal came to hear of these quietly laid plans, he was unlikely to be influenced away from giving his consent and approval. "There will be a Council of War after the celebrations for my son's birthday - as Commander of my Northern Defenses, you must be there, and you must be aware of all news from the border. I have already given orders that you are to sit in council here at court, and your steward at Milturn has been sending regular reports from that region. Orsen will not be joining us; Gheran is heavily under influence from the border. We can only hope his line does not break until our preparations are made ready."

"Challenge him," Christian said promptly. "He will already have introduced himself to the lady while we are in here - you need not fear, she is with her brother - and his manner alone will give you cause enough to challenge him, if only to protect the honor of your friend's sister." He leaned forward onto an elbow, meeting Charles' eye firmly. "If he sees her favor upon the man who unhorses him, he will not tilt against you again, in love or in war."

"Think you?" he asked, arching that singular brow once again. "Or he will decide he enjoys the challenge and wishes to win her away from my favor." Though there were plenty of women about court who would no doubt enjoy the count's attention, Charles feared once he caught sight of Alys' beauty, he would set his sights on the one woman who he could not have. The thought of the man introducing himself to Alys at that very moment caused Charles to inwardly cringe, but he had to put his trust in her, just as she'd asked.

The king eyed him with no little concern, wondering just what had got into his friend. He had never seen Charles Beauforte less than absolutely certain he could keep a woman's attention, regardless of any rival. "I thought you had confidence that my niece has laid her agreement on you," he queried, inquisitive and just a little wary of what the answer might be. "Does that not require you to place a little faith in her ability to stay true to that agreement?"

"It is not Alys that worries me, sire, but you are right. There is nothing I can do but prove my worth and hope the Goddess looks on me with favor." He tilted his glance at his cup, wondering if love was always full of such heartache. He had thought to be in love would be a joyful, wondrous feeling, and it was when he was with Alys, but he also found himself constantly distracted by thoughts of her and worries that he would fail to win her.

Christian's eyes narrowed as he studied his friend, slowly putting together everything he had been told and everything he had seen, even in that short progress from door to throne. The lack of interest in the other ladies of the court, this preoccupation with a possible rival, the unspoken statement that Charles would marry if it were permissible. And that other statement, She holds my heart in her hands. "Good Goddess," he declared, somewhat stunned by the conclusion he came to. "You're in love with her!"

Charles need not say anything for the king to know he was correct in his conclusion; the look on his face was proof enough. "Is that so hard to believe?" he asked, looking glum. "I know I have been something of a cad in the past, but never where Alys has been concerned. I have never felt like this before, like my life will not be complete without her." Oh, he knew he had already said too much, but this was one friend talking to another now, and he truly was aggrieved with the pain and heartache of one who feared he would never have his heart's desire, without whose love he thought he might die. "My apologies, sire. I promised Alys I would not speak of this to you, and I have broken that promise. I know she is dear to you, and I know there are those who doubt I know anything of what I speak, but I swear to you, she is more dear to me than life."

"Charles ..." Christian sighed, though in truth he was not so chagrined by this quiet assurance as he might have seemed. In this, at least, he thought he might do right by both friend and kin, if only they could buy some time to silence the nay-sayers and grumblers of the court and council with some test the new duke was sure to pass. One question, however, would have to be answered in kind, and though he knew that his friend could tell when a woman's softer feelings were engaged, he was not sure he should take merely one man's word for it. But still, it must be asked. "And does she love you?"

Charles could only answer the question with the same honesty with which he'd spoken thus far, other than for one small but not so small detail. "That is something you should perhaps ask her, but I believe she does. She had said as much as a child, at least, and I do not believe it to be simple infatuation. But for these past five years, she has known me all her life, as I have known her. I had always thought to have loved her like a sister, but..." He paused a moment, wondering if he'd gone too far once again, but if the king was to make a wise decision, he needed to know as much as Charles dared tell him. "When first I arrived, we argued. Her temper has not mellowed much these past five years."

"We, all of us, found her claim to love you as a child most amusing, as I recall," Christian reminded him, a little surprised to find that day so seared into his own memory. "Yet she was always such a little thing in your life, and in Will's, especially when you both took up arms. I even seem to recall a blow she gave you on her day of departure. If you loved her then, you had it well hid." He chuckled lightly, but the sound faded as Charles mentioned his niece's temper. "Charles, I never took you for a romantic. Are you about to tell me that her insults won your heart?"

"What do you say to a woman who claims to have loved you since she was six?" he replied, remembering her day of departure a bit differently than everyone else, it seemed, having tried to keep his own feelings on the matter as hidden as possible. He had not been happy about the arrangement and had reacted by seeming not to care, afraid it would only make it harder for her, himself, and for everyone if he were to make his true feelings known. He sighed, so sure of his feelings and yet knowing it was not wise to do anything too rash, if not for his own sake, then for hers. "It has been a long time, and much has happened. We have both changed. I would like some time to get to know her again. I do not wish to trap her in a marriage which would make her unhappy."

There was a long pause, during which the king studied him with eyes that seemed a little too sharp, appeared able to see a little too much. "Very well," he sighed finally. "You have my permission to pay court to the Lady Alys, with conditions. You are never to be alone with her, nor to enter her private rooms. Nor allow her to enter yours," he added, knowing his kin as well as he did, continuing onward with, "And should, at any point, your fidelity to her become a case to be questioned, you will renounce all claim to her. There will be no betrothal announced, no wedding sanctioned, not until these conditions have been proven and met, and you yourself have proved your right to the title and power you hold. Are these acceptable terms, Your Grace?"

Charles' face brightened, delightedly stunned and relieved that Christian would see fit to grant such a request, even under such terms as these, which Charles found both amenable, as well as practical. "Yes, they are most acceptable. I would be most humbly in your debt if you would grant such a request." As if he didn't already owe the king so much, though he was more than willing to prove his worth in any way possible.

For all that it seemed a happy enough concession, Christian knew he was going to hear any number of complaints about this from several sides, not least of which would be his own sister and her son, at least for a time. He arched his brow at the delight on Charles' face. "You, Your Grace, are so deep in my debt already, I am surprised you can see daylight at all," he drawled with wry amusement, raising his voice to call for pen and paper. "Mr Sexton, your time a moment, if you please." Repeating the terms he had laid down for the Duke of Lonnare, the king watched as his personal secretary wrote them down in official speech; two copies, one for the king's holding, and one for the duke himself. He glanced at Charles as the quill scratched over the parchment. "Deserve her, Charles. You will never get another chance if you fail."

For the first time since Charles had joined the king in private conversation, a warm, happy smile spread itself across his face, far more reminiscent of the Charles the king remembered than the one who'd returned from his ten-day journey to fetch the king's niece. "And I look forward to repaying that debt in full any way I can." At last, Charles lifted the cup of wine in a sort of salute to one of his closest friends, who just happened to also be his king. "I will do you proud, my liege. I swear it as your ever-faithful friend and servant."

"With hopes to be my nephew by and by," Christian added with a chuckle. He was beaten already if his friend was right about Alys' feelings, and he knew it, but even he would not be able to grant their desire so soon. Taking the parchment from his secretary, he signed the agreement, setting his great seal in wax onto the documents. "There. If there are any objections, you may show the dissenters this. And I'm laying ten sovereigns that the first thing Will does is punch you."