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An Arrangement (Methos and Corporal Bunny)

Methos

Star
Joined
May 7, 2009
Evening began to set upon the city of Alstrass, with streaming beams of light fading through the city’s streets with its hues of deep yellow and orange. The castle was set upon a hill towering over the city below. The city’s outer walls gave way to the city itself which formed a teaming mass that had grown around the base of the hill spilling up to the walls and some parts of it had grown up around the walls. For a fortress Castle Alstrass was rather luxurious, but like most things in the Aldian Kingdom it was designed for war. Towering walls lined the hilltops with narrow slits for archers and defensive towers along its walls. The Aldian Kings had long boasted that it was impregnable to assault.

Within the fortress itself the Duke of Elgin and heir to the throne found himself beset with a stream of courtiers all seeking to offer their well wishes towards his impeding nuptials, not to mention offer a ream of thoughts, observations and pieces of advice. The Duke thought much of it to be well meaning but it grew rather tiresome and repetitive after the first half a dozen people. Yet the nobleman kept a smile gracing his lips as he endured the well wishes of his own vassals who had accompanied him to the city, and various magnates from other parts of the realm. As though he hadn’t enough relatives, and nobles within his own country the bride’s countrymen had called upon him as well, as evidently there was no point at which it was too early to begin ingratiating yourself.

Duke Alexander retained a rather youthful appearance at the age of twenty three. A courtly smile graced his lips as he received his guests with as much good humour as he could muster. His features were distinct, as angular features and a strong jawline created a distinctly masculine appearance. His eyes had an intelligent glimmer to them, as those brown orbs gazed out at the world about him. Jet black hair was cut short and rather immaculately groomed. He was a tall man standing six foot three in height, consequently towering over many of his peers. His shoulders were broad, and the discipline and training of the knightly caste had filled out his frame in a rather impressive manner, leaving his body trim, potent and a trained weapon of war. He was clad rather elegantly as befitted royalty. Black leggings and leather boots clad his lower body, while a black velvet doublet rested against a strong torso with silver thread working itself in the patterns of a falcon in flight at the cuff and the collar. A sword was belted to his waist, the blade itself simple and functional in its design only silvery gilt and the sparkle of a diamond on its pommel distinguished it.

The city had swollen with various dignitaries from both countries and neighboring ones. A certain festival light atmosphere had developed as the concentration of the wealthy in one city had drawn every entertainer and merchant for miles. After all that much money simply represented an unparalleled opportunity for them. The Duke managed to extricate himself from the crowd of well wishers and one of his retainers approached him in the hallway and presented him with a cup of wine. Alexander raised it to his lips and downed a rather deep draught, as the grey haired servant inquired “Nervous?” The shake of a head followed as he noted “No, but if I have to shake another bloody hand I’m going to throttle someone.” A soft laugh accompanied that particular observation as he noted “This has been determined for a long time, its just a matter of going through the ceremony so everyone is happy, can have their party and go home.” “Ah had you heard that she just arrived in the city?” The servant asked curiously. “Good, everyone seeking to curry favour have someone else to distract their attention.” The Duke replied rather glibly. “About time she got here, just like a woman, they always make you wait.”
 
“Quit your nerves child!” The elder scorned, pursing her lips unattractively as she eyed her niece. A stern look from her husband caused the older woman to turn away, glaring out the window of the carriage. Tempers had simmered throughout the day. The journey had been exhausting, despite the exquisite luxury of the carriage. A tedious pace had been set days before, weather and obstacles slowing the party. The company, who now bristled under strained politeness, had stopped only once; briefly. The detour was used to relieve themselves, stretch the ache from their limbs and of course, to prepare the bride-to-be.

An hour of unneeded prayer followed by a lecture of what it was to be a good and pious wife had grated upon the young lady more than the tightening of the corset strings. The carriage ride was jarring, causing the ivory stays to jab painfully into the lady’s soft flesh with each hitch of the wheels.

“Leave her be, Helena”, came the Lord’s gruff warning. Lord Edward Northend, a man past his prime, leaned unceremoniously against his own window. The sweat upon his bald scalp reflected the soft light of waning day. His dark eyes were anxious, a shadow of excitement causing the corner of his thin lips to pitch upwards. “This is the moment of our rise!” The once athletic man soothed a hand over his protruding stomach absently as he reminisced. The man his niece was to wed was a man of great reputation. A man of war. Edward looked forward to meeting, what he perceived as, a younger version of himself.

His wife snorted beside him. The frail woman was taller than her husband, grey-gold hair curled about her head. Her once aristocratic bone structure was taunt and aged, leaving unappealing hallows and shadows to her face. The Lady Nothrend was frail, if it were not for the over abundance of jewels upon her person she may very well topple from the slightest breeze.

Glares were exchanged until carriage came to a halt. The journey had finally come to an end. The Lady Northend shifted anxiously, scowling at the footman who took too long to assist her. A powdered blue dress adorned her body, gold thread curling down the bodice in ivy patterns. Her husband, who strolled from the carriage after his wife, wore a male equivalent. The light blue contrasted with his pale complexion and rosy cheeks.

They stood together, marveling at the extravagance of the castle, differing greatly from the halls of their own home. The building represented everything they couldn’t buy with money; a sufficient military. Lord Northend sputtered a bit excitedly shuffling towards the entrance while his wife turned to make sure the small caravan had halted in the proper area.

A trail of carriages packed with servants, the bride’s meager belongings, and more importantly, her dowry halted at the side of the castle. Assured of its' safety Helena turned on her heel, thrusting her hand towards the footman who waited for the young mistress to extend her hand.

“Get out!” Hissed Helena, waving at the foot-man as if she expected the servant to pull the girl from the confines of the carriage.

“No..” came the soft reply.
“Get out!”
“NO.”
“You are off to a bad start as a pious wife.” Came the off-handed reply from Lord Northrend who still stared bemusedly at the architecture.

An exasperated sigh sounded before a small slippered foot and a delicate hand emerged from the darkness of the carriage.

Lady Emeline, soon to be Duchess of Elgin, was of slight stature. The peach and cream gown she wore did little to hide the fact, even with its bountiful folds of silk. The soft colors accentuated her slightly flushed complexion. A complexion clear save for a few freckles over her chest and neck; a small beauty mark resting above the upsweep of her brow. Strawberry locks laid heavily upon her scalp in thick curls, before falling past her delicate shoulders in lighter ringlets. The heavy mass was twisted and tamed as much as possible with jeweled pins. Metal that stabbed without mercy into her tender scalp.

Despite being petite at the height of 5’1” the woman had stubborn features. A square jaw smoothed her high cheekbones, but only accented her chin. A lush mouth, petal pink, swelled abundantly under an aristocratic nose. Large green eyes that rivaled emeralds sparked with indignation. If the frown upon her lips was not any indication of her displeasure, her wide eyes, trimmed in black lash, conveyed her contempt.

“You look so…so--SO SOUR!”, seethed Helena as she leveled her grey eyes with the sparking green of her niece.

Emeline merely glared at her elder, righting the heavy blue cloak about her. Her slender form gathering gooseflesh with the coming evening.

“Now what?” Asked a less than confidence Lord as he turned towards the ladies with an unsure look.
 
A few moments later the Chamberlain knocked at the Duke’s door. The Chamberlain received a disinterested response of “enter”. The rather portly and balding member of the Royal Council entered the room to spy the Duke slouched in a rather comfortable chair reading a book. The Chamberlain coughed and then remarked “Your Grace your bride and her relations have arrived here at the palace.” Alexander nodded in an absentminded manner as his hand reached over to scoop the wine glass on the table beside him. He sipped the wine that remained with the glass and then rose to his feet. “I suppose I should greet them. After all I can’t have half of our burgeoning Empire sulking that I couldn’t be bothered to great Lady Emeline and her family.”

Alexander set aside his wine glass and noted “I suppose I should consider this rather a formal occasion considering I haven’t seen her in years.” He walked through the room and retrieved a rather heavy decorative gold chain that draped over his neck, shoulders and chest. The falcon crest was work into it and the piece was set with diamonds and rubies that gave it a rather opulent look. He set a rather plain diadem upon his head and belted his sword to his waist once more. Thereafter, he observed rather dryly “There now I must look the part of a future king no?” The Chamberlain replied airly “Any more so and the clouds would part to let a shaft of light illuminate you to signal how distinctively favoured by the heavens you are.”

The Duke adjusted his doublet and briefly regarded himself in the mirror before turning to the Chamberlain and remarking “Well take me to them then.” The elder nobleman nodded as his hand raised upwards to scratch at his balding skull briefly before he beckoned for Alexander to follow. Thus they set off through various hallways until they reached the wing of rooms that Emeline and her party were to occupy for the next several days. As he arrived various servants briefly halted to bow to him while they seemed to occupy themselves with bringing a variety of baggage to the rooms.

The Chamberlain scurried ahead to rap rather loudly upon the door and then when it was answered to announce the Duke’s presence. A moment later Alexander strode through the doorway and let his eyes sweep over the room. They locked rather immediately upon Emeline. His dark eyes appraised her form briefly as a faint smile graced his lips. If nothing else the girl being presented to him wasn’t hard upon the eyes, although her expression didn’t immediately convey a look of great enthusiasm. He nodded his head towards her slightly and then walked towards her to close the distance between them. Alexander leaned in to let his lips lightly brush against her cheek. “Lady Emeline, welcome to my country. I trust your journey was a pleasant one.” He didn’t wait for her to confirm or deny that before proceeding to remark “I look forward to better making your acquaintance as the day upon which we join our countries approaches.”

A moment later he turned to acknowledge the Lord and Lady Northend as he offered them a rather pleasant smile as he noted “I bid you both welcome as well. Thank you for bringing my bride to me safely. I’m sure it’s a comfort to her to have family with her at a time such as this. Have the servants brought you food and drink or anything else you might require?”
 
Helena had scolded and complained, her voice so shrill it even caused the servants to cringe. She had buzzed about Emeline, fluffing curls, tightening threads and pinching flesh to produce a rosier hue. Meanwhile, Edward had already settled himself upon a elaborate chair seeming to pretend he was upon a throne as he stroked his fingers idly over the carved wood.

By the time the Duke had made his entrance Edward was half drunk, Helena half crazed, and Emeline fully enraged. At his arrival all persons lowered to a graceful bow, Edward even managed to stagger into position.

When Emeline finally rose her betrothed had already crossed the room, placing a kiss upon her cheek. The young woman colored between arousal, surprise and outrage. She bristled under his gaze her emerald eyes burning into him even as he turned his greeting towards her family. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her chamber maid.

A silent exchange of glances, raised eyebrows and pursed lips indicated the argument. Emeline huffed, her eyes taking a moment to roam over his pleasing stature. Perhaps she was a lucky woman…a virile husband, of high rank and wealth-- but as her eyes turned towards the servants doubt crept into the darkening depths. Many young maids openly appraised the Duke, their gazes hungry and lustful at his back.

Emeline’s delicate brow creased, her now red lips pursing, “As a matter of fact your Grace, I--” she began before Helena clapped her hands excitedly stepping forwards with an over exaggerated smile. “We were wondering when the banquet was.”

Emeline frowned, stepping forwards too, “No, I was--”
“She was excited to greet some of the kingdom’s nobles. To express her HAPPINESS at being the lady of such a prodigious and successful nation!”

The young woman looked as though she was about to throw herself to the floor in a tantrum before her expression became placid. Her eyes glared into her Aunt, “Yes,” she hissed between a strained smile as she approached closer, faltering a bit as the scent and warmth of him caressed her. She took a step back, allowing herself a wider girth of proximity. Her emerald eyes glanced from his chest to Helena’s face.
“I--”
“You’re most welcome your Grace!” Lady Northrend interrupt again, curtseying before reaching for her niece. The cold, almost skeletal fingers grazed over the jaw of the younger woman in a hidden threat, “Emeline had trouble containing her excitement--” Grey steel warned of possible punishment before they lightened, eyeing the Duke coyly; calculating. “There is a banquet, no?”

“Yes!” Chimed Edward, slurring as he stumbled into the scene, “I’d love to discuss the details of the treaty with you!”
 
Alexander had noted the rather charged atmosphere that he had entered. The duke gained the impression that some manner of discord had preceded his arrival. However, whatever argument had taken place seemed to have dimmed upon his arrival aside from his bride glaring at him. His gaze shifted curiously between Emeline and the other in the room as though trying to ascertain what exactly the nature of their disagreement was.

The Duke regarded Emeline and seemed curious to hear what exactly was on her mind. However, she was rather promptly cut off by the elder Lady Northend who stated that they were curious when the banquet was to take place. Alexander looked at the two women curiously and then noted “Ah yes, I would imagine that you are all hungry after your journey.” He turned to where his Chamberlain lurked back towards the door. He remarked “Lord Winston do you know when the banquet is to begin, the details of these things often escape me.” The Chamberlain helpfully noted “Your guests arrived slightly early Your Grace, the banquet was scheduled to begin in another couple hours.”

He peered at Emeline for a moment “She’s anxious to great the nobles? They’ve all spent most of the day boring me to death by repeating various bits of martial advice, they’re well wishes and lurid suggestions. There are enough of them lurking about that if she is eager to meet them I’m sure they’d only be too happy at the chance to ingratiate themselves.” He thought it a rather strange request “As many of them did express their desire to meet her.”

When Emeline began to speak and her aunt cut her off a third time the Duke looked slightly annoyed. “Let her say whatever she is trying to say. We speak the same language so there is no need for you to interpret on her behalf. She is supposed to be a queen at some point so she shouldn’t be cut off like an unruly child.” Alexander let his eyes fix on Emeline evidently seeking to halt the interference that was being run against her saying whatever was on her mind.

His gaze briefly turned towards Lord Northend “That treaty was concluded when I was a child many years ago. I’m uncertain what details could possibly need further explanation when the treaty had been in place for over a decade. What exactly is there that needs to be discussed?”
 
Both Helena and Edward looked shocked at the Duke; Edward sputtering a bit in his drunk state. Helena had the courtesy to blush as she inclined her head towards the man, her eyes stabbing at him like daggers. Edward looked more embarrassed by the logic of the statement rather than the previous insult to his wife.

Meanwhile, Emeline smiled. Her lips quirked up in genuine mirth, laughter lighting her eyes. If she had been beautiful before, she was gorgeous now as her facial features brightened. Pursing her lips again she fought to hide her humor, as it was unbecoming of the situation. She even began sucking on the inside of her cheek, a habit to cure her of her smile.

A silence settled over the room as Edward searched for words. He grunted a bit as he shifted, eyeing his wife pleadingly. Helena merely stared at her husband with wide eyes, swerving one shoulder at him as if to prod him into action. “Ye-yes. You’re quite right.” Edward finally concluded, staring at the Duke stupidly.

Emeline turned her face away, biting at her lower lip to contain her laughter. Her stomach fluttered with the contained humor as she swallowed her giggle. Placing a hand on her lower stomach she tried to breath slowly. She had begun to feel faint from the combination of holding her breath and the tight crème corset. With a heavy breath that lifted her shoulders she turned back to the scene, after evidently gathering herself.

“I am a bit hungry,” she spoke, her voice soft though, still heavy with her contained laughter. Outstretching her hand she regarded her betrothed under dark lashes as she waited for him to escort her. It had been wonderful to see her relatives verbally backhanded, though she did so suspect it was his usual response to such drabble rather than an actual attempt to insult. Yes, a warrior would have been out for blood if that was his intent.

Flicking her eyes over his face she noted his strong masculine features, very different from her own-- in fact, very different from most men she had come in contact. But, then she had only spent brief moments in male company save her uncle; Lord knew he wasn’t a worthy specimen. Blinking quickly for a moment she flushed becomingly due to her thoughts. She was tempted to start waving her hand about if he did not take it soon. Emeline was never the patient sort.
 
Alexander observed the rather thunderstruck reaction that Emeline’s relations offered at the suggestion that Emeline be allowed to speak for herself. A slightly bemused look was cast in their direction as though he found it strange that they should have expected him to remark in any other fashion. It appeared his intervention had earned the appreciation of his bride to be as the woman seemed to light up at the comment, barely restrained laughter seemed to be read easily upon her features. The duke winked to her before returning his gaze towards the Lord and Lady Northend.

As the rather rotund lord conceded that he was quite right the Duke noted “Good, I rather thought so.” Alexander made the comment suggesting both that the treaty was well settled and he’d listen to Emeline herself as opposed to others telling him what she had to say were settled matters. He appeared to dismiss both issues which seemed to have unsettled his guests with the rather imperious bearing of someone whom was used to routinely making decisions he expected to be followed.

Alexander’s eyes thereafter returned to Emeline as his eyes could help but be drawn to her. The manner in which the corset she sore thrust forth her chest and presented a rather slender figure captivated his eyes even if it was making her somewhat light headed. A smile graced his lips as he let his eyes linger upon her, and his mind wandered slightly before he chidingly noted that such things were to wait for a few days. Although his mind certainly entertained the thought that not all things which were required of him for his kingdom need be a burden.

Alexander heard her remark that she was hungry. He nodded slightly as he noted “Then we have no need to wait for the banquet now do we?” He smiled to her as he took her hand and rather gently guided her over to stand beside him. His tall form loomed over her as he observed “I don’t think the servants shall protest overly loudly if we barge in there and insist that we’d like something to eat right now.” A slightly teasing smile graced his lips as he noted “After all not a one of them will want to be the one who let the future queen faint from hunger. Though I doubt they’d be so sympathetic to my own plight.”

With that said he turned towards the door and would proceed out of the room with Emeline in toe. The Chamberlain offered the pain a rather amused look as he followed along behind the pair of them. The Duke seemed to manage to navigate the maze of halls towards the kitchen itself. Although as he drew near the kitchen staff scurrying about in preparation for the banquet offered rather bewildered looks that seemed to inquire as to what on earth he was doing there when they had a banquet set to begin immediately. However, that particular instinct seemed to be masked by the usual respectful acknowledgements and curious glances in Emeline’s direction.
 
Emeline straightened, trying to make herself larger. Her betrothed towered over her, making her feel fragile and extremely vulnerable. As she tilted her head back to look at him, her emerald eyes slide over his profile. She only hoped that she wasn’t leaving one horrible situation for another.

Due to the rules of escort her fingers lay against his upper arm, with a subtle sigh she flexed her fingers lightly over his forearm. She smiled a bit, at least he was sturdy, but even his muscles’ strength could be turned upon her. It was not uncommon for a man to hit his wife, especially a spirited wife like Emeline-- at least, that’s what her Aunt had informed her; warned her.

Emeline colored, her Aunt had also informed her of the marriage bed. Immersed in her own thoughts the Queen to-be didn’t’ notice the curious looks nor the path before her. In fact, she slipped on her own embroidered skirt causing her grip to tighten, and her body to lean against his to regain balance. The shift in balance caused her thoughts to clear and reality to crash before her. The smells of the kitchen made her mouth water. Even with her wealth Emeline had never caught the scent of so many delectable treats. It would appear that this kingdom, though poorer had a much better quality of just about everything…

A cook was before them in a matter of seconds. A portly male covered in flour with a wide nose and flushed skin. He bowed graciously, looking nervous as sweat covered his face. “Your Grace, to what honor do we owe this visit? The banquet is about to start. Your guests are arriving.” He sputtered slightly, his eyes wide with surprise. Even the female servants slowed their duties, eyes turning towards the encounter.

The cook finally noticed the Lady Emeline, rumor had not done her beauty justice, though she did look a bit faint, and not at all fleshy enough for his liking. He seemed to forget his place as his eyes roamed over the future Queen, much like the rest of the servants. Some giving quick glances as they continued about their duties, others glowering; but, the vast majority simply ogled.
 
Alexander noted Emeline’s form seeming to become slightly rigid as she sought to make herself seem as large as possible. His lips tried to hide a grin as it was a rather amusing site, for the woman was likely many things but large of stature was clearly not one of them. As they walked down the hallway he asked curiously “Are they always like that to you?” He seemed slightly puzzled by what he had encountered. A moment later he inquired “And what had you been trying to say when they stopped you from talking?”

The only matter that had caused Alexander any particular worry, that rumours of Emeline’s attractiveness and artistic renditions were highly exaggerated had been easily laid to rest. Rather than needing to steel himself to do his duty, for his country, he was rather looking forward to consummating things. He felt her hand resting upon his arm and then a rather sharp tug upon it as she seemed to slip. Alexander’s other arm moved to her to seek to lift her upwards and steady her. With a measure of concern he inquired “Are you alright?”

Alexander’s country was not as rich as others. Clearly the palace was something of an exception to the general norm of his homeland. Like most of royal blood, the finer things were present in abundance. The palace itself had been enriched with captured look from foreign wars and naturally from tax revenues which didn’t find their way into sustaining the military.

The Duke seemed uncertain whether he should be annoyed that his servants were all but openly leering at Emeline or flattered. He seemed to settle upon annoyed as he glared at them. As they inquired why he was here rather than waiting for the banquet as was expected. “Yes, I know there is a banquet and that it’s starting soon. These sorts of things don’t escape me. On the other hand my lovely bride to be here, is rather famished and wishes to have something to eat immediately. Tell her what you can bring her quickly and then fetch her whatever it is she wants.”

Alexander nudged Emeline slightly as though to prompt her to inquire as to what the kitchen could bring her. After all having just met the woman he had absolutely no idea what would sate her appetites. Having her leaning against him as she was happened to be causing his mind to wander so he pressed himself to focus “Tell them what you want.”
 
Emeline only responded with a brief nod. Enjoying the sound of his deep voice at he rolled over her, causing a slight shiver. A shiver not from chill, but pleasure. “I..-I was simply going to comment that the travel here was not at all pleasurable.” She frowned, feeling silly for insisting she voice that opinion before. It was just a simple statement, but the fact that she could not even whisper it had made its importance swell.

Gathering herself she resettled the distance between them, missing the press of his warmth against her. She felt almost like a burden during the conversation between the cook and his Master. Giving a brave smile at his encouragement she brushed a hand over her delicate throat as she contemplated, “A glass of wine will do nicely, until the banquet starts.” She was, in fact parched, and faint. The sugar of wine would give her some energy while the rich juices would quench her thirst.

“After all, I suspect I’d rather be hungry during the Banquet. A full mouth is a lady’s excuse not to talk with pinning nobles.” Her lips stretched into a charming smile, a dimple appearing on her left cheek as her eyebrows rose.

The cook stared agape at her for a moment causing her to frown. Perhaps, her Aunt’s constant collaring was needed. Finally the servant conveyed the order towards a female maid, who’s skirts swayed hastily as she shuffled away to get a glass.

Emeline stood awkwardly, her fingers playing over the Duke’s sleeve cuff idly as she contemplated her place in the new kingdom. Was as her Aunt had suggested? “You are but money to him, and a step for our rising title.” Pursing her lips she glowered, her expressive face doing little to mask her active thoughts.
 
Alexander offered her a bemused look as he observed “All that fuse was them not wanting you to say that it was a rather long journey and you didn’t care for it?” He shook his head slightly as he smiled “I was just being polite by saying I had hoped you had a pleasant journey. Unless you can fly like a bird it was likely to be a less than grand thing.” He didn’t seem particularly off put by her having said as much.

The Duke simply remained quiet while he let Emeline express what she desired the culinary staff to bring her. Although she had claimed to be hungry evidently she was content to settle for some wine. The cook inquired “White or red?” The cook sent two servants scurrying to grab one of each so as to be able to accommodate either choice relatively quickly. A large goblet was set down in front of the cook by a female serving girl who smiled at Emeline rather pleasantly.

Alexander looked slightly amused as she suggested that eating was a way to avoid talking to pining nobles. He chuckled softly and leaned in towards her as he smiled “And hopefully that shall not include a way to avoid talking to me.” His hand rested on her lightly as he rather teasingly noted “Now that you’ve revealed that trick to me, I can tell you that you shall not be particularly successful in causing me to fall for it!”

Two servants had returned with bottles of both red and white wine. They appeared to look at Emeline rather anxiously to answer as to what sort of whine she desired. Given that wine itself was a slightly vague request. As Emeline’s fingers toyed with the cuff of his shirt he seemed bemused and leaned in towards her to lightly kiss her neck. He had no way to know exactly what she was thinking but her expression was recognizable enough to him. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” He assured her as he tried to sooth whatever unknown fears lurked within her mind.
 
Emeline smiled at the serving girl in return. Reaching for the white wine as she felt the Duke’s lips on her neck. She colored a becoming pink as she bit her lip in surprise. She turned towards him, her green eyes dark and wide, “You’re not suppose to do that sort of thing…” she chided, sounding like her Aunt.

Yes, that sort of affection was frowned upon in public especially with one who wasn’t your wife. Though, as Emeline contemplated it, she gathered that he wasn’t often told what not to do let alone what he could do. Feeling ill at ease she reached for the glass once more, bringing it to her lips. She sipped delicately as her thoughts raced. A new home, new traditions… it made her feel even more faint. Change was good--

With a inclination of her head she thanked the servants for their good choice of beverage. Feeling the liquid sooth her dry mouth and warm her skin she sighed. At least, she credited the wine with those reactions. She warmed more when he reassured her, his voice low and intimate.

Blinking she soothed over his cuff that she had begun to wrinkle in her worry. “Who exactly are we meeting?” she asked as she began to sway forward towards where all the maids were traveling. She looked like a curious child as she pitched forward with her whine glass, balancing on one foot as she stretched to peer around a pillar and corner.

Strawberry curls complimented her now pink complexion. Perhaps a bit of wine would ease her disposition. An elderly maid looked at the new Lady lovingly as she bustled past the Duke. With a smile she inclined her head towards the Duke, seeming to approve his choice of female companions.
 
Alexander noted the blush that coloured Emeline’s cheeks as his lips brushed against her neck. A roguish smile graced the Duke’s lips as he regarded her. As she stated he shouldn’t do that sort of thing he asked “And why not?” He leaned in towards her and let his dark eyes gaze down into those wide green eyes. “We are to be married soon enough, why should I be deprived the pleasure of it?” A sly look crossed his features as he noted “And I doubt the troubles your aunt has filled your head with were principally centered around your prospective husband being too eager to have you in his bed.”

He did seem rather used to getting exactly what he wanted. Although given that he hand ample lands in his own right for several years now, and commanded on a battlefield if not the totality of his country as yet, what he wished to transpired seemed to be the reality he was used to. His arm slipped round her waist as she drank wine, he waited rather patiently for her to quench her thirst. He flipped the servants a coin to reward them for their trouble before they returned rather swiftly to the banquet preparation that were consuming the attention of the kitchen staff.

As she asked who they were to meet, presumably at the banquet, Alexander remarked “Hmm at the banquet everyone who is anyone really. All the great lords of both kingdoms will be there with most of the rest of the nobility in attendance. As for who will specifically want to meet us well those who don’t want to be seen as not doing so. They don’t want their loyalty questioned. Not to mention those that hope by being among the first to ingratiate themselves that they have some hope for advancement.” He grinned slightly “Oh and naturally anyone whom is even distantly related to either of us will want to take the chance to remind us that you or I have some relative in common with them three generations back.”

He noted her trying to peek into the hall beyond as she peered around a pillar. A grin graced his lips as he leaned in towards her as he noted . “In any case you shall be the centre of attention. Or we shall but I suspect they have a better idea of who I am, hence it shall be you who are the object of curiosity.” He seemed to consider what if any he should offer on dealing with that and then noted “Just be polite, no one really expects anything much at these sort of things. Just be the blushing bride happy to be about wed and pleased to make their acquaintance. It’s what they expect so they’ll just accept it and not ask a whole lot of questions.” He winked to her as he noted “So long as I act arrogant and authoritative no one really questions what I do. Its how they expect I should act so they just accept it.”
 
Emeline simply looked at the Duke; her betrothed. Before she could even that retort about her informant he had already dismissed her Aunt’s argument. Her eyebrows furrowed prettily as she regarded him, turning to face him as she finished her wine. “Because,” she said simply, “It is not proper.” Technically, she was correct. Ideally man and his wife lived apatheticly and quiet; polite yet distant.

“Not proper--especially in public.” Emeline wondered briefly if her husband even knew what being proper was about. She had been trained, as a lady, during many tedious hours. It was a wonder Emeline’s mind hadn’t dulled during the hours of tea pouring, mending, embroidery and dancing. Her only real outlet during her refinement had been music. Though, even that had been monitored.

Helena had always claimed Emeline’s bad temperament was due to her parents’ lack of proper discipline when she was young. “For once a child reaches a certain age,” she would say, “-the good characteristics can not be developed. But, the bad can be beaten out.”

Emeline wondered briefly if the Duke had ever had unappealing characteristics--based on social standards, beat out of him. The thought caused a rather amused smile to light her eyes as she regarded him. No, she couldn’t even imagine her betrothed as a infant. She had met him, briefly as a child-- remembered saying something silly to him and perhaps pushing him down; much to her parents’ amusements.

Emeline shook her head at him slightly, more to regain her bearings. Strawberry curls floated about her face as her eyes teased him, “You mean, you ACT arrogant and dominating?” Tilting her head back she peered up at him through her lashes, “Yes, I can imagine how exhausted you may become through the night, having to keep that façade up.” Rolling her eyes playfully she handed her glass to a passing maid who bowed deeply before hurrying out of sight.

The young woman walked back towards her fiancé. They had but a moment more before they were announced and she was pushed out once more into an unknown environment. “So, I must pretend I’m happy to marry a man after my dowry?” she mused aloud, an icy tone entering the tease. A woman couldn’t help but have girlish fantasies and expectations, despite the proof of marriage-- the grim reality.
 
Alexander grinned to Emeline as she seemed to try to explain to him that it wasn’t proper. “I don’t give a damn about what’s proper.” He glanced around him as he observed “Soon enough they are all mine to command, so what I say is proper shall be what is proper.” He stepped towards her and sought to pull her towards him rather intent on letting his lips crush against her own. A rather mischievous smile would be “Proper would say that I shouldn’t do this now but it would be perfectly fine if I paid not a moment’s attention to you prior to the wedding, and spent the next several days preoccupied with wine, a variety of eager serving maids and the odd prostitute.” He winked to her as he noted “Would you prefer I was proper in that particular fashion?”

Alexander had had people attempt to teach him manners. Unfortunately he hadn’t paid them a great deal of head as he’d called them nattering old men and women, then insisted that they bring in the tutors who went on at length about famous battles, generals and kings. Or he simply wandered off to the courtyard and found his practice sword. It had been a rather losing effort. Thus her attempts to persuade him that in public was especially not proper were met with an impish grin as he sought to kiss her and his hand moved to press to her thigh and then slide upwards to grope her ass. “I’m afraid you shall have to think me very improper then wife.” He winked to her as he noted “As I don’t give a damn if its supposed to be improper.”

The Duke did have his unappealing characteristics, he was impetuous, and arrogant. However, confidence and bravado had not been things which had been discouraged in a future king. Rather a confident and commanding bearing had been encouraged from a young age, so while some discouraged such characteristics his had been fostered.

Alexander let his hand slip to play with a few of those strawberry curls. He grinned as he said “I don’t just act that way. I mean when people ask me something and I’m not entirely sure what they’re talking about or how I should respond I just say something arrogant and domineering. They expect that from me so it satisfies them.” He shrugged slightly as he noted “If you’re meant to rule you are expected to dominate and ooze confidence. Just as you’re expected to ride into the thick of battle as an example for others, a certain attitude is expected.”

Alexander offered her a grin as she stated that she was supposed to expected to be happy to be marrying him when he wanted her dowry. “I do have to marry you, I don’t have to want to do things that are improper to you. If it’s any consolation to you, of the possible girls that would have been suitable for me to marry I’d probably have picked you in any case.” He grinned to her “You have no idea how horribly spoiled and obnoxious half the women in your position are.” He smirked slightly “But if you’re looking for me to apologize for not having rescued you from a dragon, or your wicked uncle who had you imprisoned in a tower or something along those lines as in a story, I’m not going to. That would be a damn lot of work for something that was going to happen anyhow.”
 
Emeline merely peered up at her betrothed, her eyes shimmering, “You’ve already saved me, if you find my Aunt to be to the liking of a dragon.” With a dimpled smile she pressed her palm to the outline of Alexander’s bicep in jest; an excuse to further explore the large man’s physique.

Turning her head away from him she ignored his other responses about improper conduct. Hiding her coloring cheeks from him she perked when she heard the assertive thud of metal upon marble--their cue.

Finally, looking up at him she responded, “If you wished to be improper or take a mistress, I am to accept this.” Her lips pursed into a thin line before her eyes left his to linger on the threshold. As the servant finished the entrance announcement Emeline step forward. The ball room was extravagant, lavished in candles, rich cloths and decorations. More startling, was the crowd of nobles, heads bowed as they awaited the Duke and his new bride; her.

Raising her chin Emeline breathed deeply, her lips quirking up to give her a graceful yet mischievous look. Scanning over the mass of guests she saw a lot of women, regarding her with judgmental eyes. Her eyes flicked to the Duke as they began to descend the stairs.

Not a woman to dance around a topic, nor one looking to embarrass herself she looked at him with concern. “How many of these women were your Mistresses?” she inquired, trying to appear confident. She wouldn’t want to be blindsided by a jealous lover of her fiance, so it would be useful information. The servants around faltered a bit, eyes darting nervously about as they overheard her question.
 
Alexander grinned to Emeline as he casually observed “Your aunt might be a little long in the tooth though I’d not noticed her breathing any fire.” He felt her hand sliding over his arms and seeming to explore the rather bulging form of his bicep, tricep and deltoid. The duke leaned in towards her as he remarked “Although if you want to reward me for saving you all the same..” That same mischievous smile darted across his lips as he noted “I’m sure you can come up with a way.” As Emeline informed him that should he wish to do improper things it was proper for her to accept that. He looked bemused as he leaned in towards her ear as he remarked “I would think that a good wife to strive to ensure that I felt no urge to do any such thing hmm? After all shouldn’t you be trying to satisfy your husband in every way. That sounds like it would be very…proper.”

As they were called into the banquet he raised his hand to wave to those greeting him. A charming smile graced his lips as he seemed to fall into the role of gracious host. As it became apparent that many of the women below were scrutinizing his bride, he heard Emeline ask how many of them had been his mistress. He leaned in to Emeline and pressed his lips to her cheek as he murmured “Only the pretty ones darling.”

The banquet gave way to further reception, much planning and organization to bring about the ceremony itself several days later. The Duke had endured all the preparations with as much patience as he could manage and a minimum of complaining. His father the King had been slightly sympathetic but simply indicated that ceremony was ever the bane of royalty. Thus he found himself slightly anxious to get this all over with so he could suffer less scrutiny than was currently the case.

However, now he was clad rather formally in black trimmed with purple. A purple cape edged with ermine was draped from his shoulders and his silver diadem rested upon his brow. He looked every inch the royal as he lingered in one of the back rooms of the temple. He waited while others were seated within to be called in for the ceremony to be conducted..at least if nothing else he had the consummation to look forward to.
 
Peeking from behind the curtains Emeline regarded the mass of guests. Rows and rows of strangers. Emeline felt a rough tug on the strings of her corset; a last adjustment to her outfit. Dressed in pure white the petite woman looked like an angel, the candle light reflecting the gold hue of her strawberry hair.

Her hair was pinned, as usual, however this time the heavy locks curled delicately. Tamed under bands of diamonds her locks practically glowed. The defined line of her jaw shadowed the delicate column of her throat, finally etched collar bones exposed to the warm air. Her wedding dress swept across her shoulders, rather than over, accentuating the lovely swell of her breasts as it embraced her. The ivory corset drew in her waist, creating a very pleasing, but almost unbelievable curve before the silken material draped over her wide hips.

Lace trimmed every possible edge, softening the lines against her supple form. Appearing from the corner of the gathering Emeline began her journey to her betrothed; her future husband.

She held her head high, her chin jutting stubbornly. The hallow of her throat sunk in at her barely contained pants of panic. The heavy train of her dressed made her cumbersome, the tightness of her corset causing breath to escape her. She was adorned with an appealing blush, the flush spreading from her cheeks to her breasts.

She wore a simple ribbon around her neck, her Aunt wanting her to appear as angelic, pure, and virginal as possible. Though, with the look of apprehension in her emerald eyes she looked more like a dove ready to take flight.

Shuddering as she came to a brisk halt in front of him she stared at his chest, which was even with her nose due to her height. The ceremony began, as the priest blessed them. Chancing a glance up at her fiancé from beneath her lashes she wondered what emotions she would see swirling in the depths of his eyes.
 
Alexander found himself standing before the alter with a number of clergymen standing in front of him. He waited with as much patience as he could muster. His head turned slightly letting his dark eyes scan the crowd. The leading family of two countries and then an assorted horde of dignitaries were assembled behind him. He muttered “Big turn out..” To himself as he cooled his heels at the front of the room.

Soon he saw Emeline making her way towards the alter. A smile graced his lips as he watched her approach. She looked radiant as she was clad in white, with a corset accentuating her curves and diamonds giving her a sparkle. His dark eyes glimmered as he looked at her, while she was clad in white to appear pure that white corset was filling his mind with many unpure thoughts.

His gaze fell on the blushing woman and he offered her what he thought would be a reassuring smile. He extended his hand towards her and sought to take her own. Thereafter, he simply waited as the music slowly died down and the priests launched into the religious ceremony. The blessings of the divine were invoked and Alexander schooled his features to appear to be properly solemn as suited the content. Although he shifts his features towards a smile as the priest asked if he took the Lady Emeline to be his wife with all the usual notions of it being a permanent arrangement regardless of circumstance. While startling the crowd with some unusual response tempted him he refrained from doing so, stated with appropriate force and solemnity “I do.”

Thereafter, there was the recital of various expectations to her. All those important things about serving and obeying until death previous to the corresponding question being put to Emeline with respect to whether she wished to marry him. As the functionaries stood by with the rings, and a crowd of people were watching expecting one answer from her, it fell to her to answer.
 
“ I…do.” Emeline sighed, feeling relieved that it was finally done with her mere consent. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her Aunt and Uncle already wanting to celebrate their good fortune. They had succeeded in marrying her off to a Duke, gaining a higher title along with greater wealth. Her uncle practically leapt in joy. Now, he would have access to an military.

She tilted her head, allowing the Duke to kiss her on the cheek as expected during the very public ceremony. After the final blessing the new Duchess was trapped within a huge celebration. With her new status she was practically accosted by noblemen wishing to win her charm so perhaps she could sway the Duke into their favors. It was a tiring night, the constant music throbbing through her head. Unfortunately, no amount of festivities could distract her mind from the inevitable; consummation. She dreaded it, as she picked at her food--dreaded the promise of it.

When she finally reached the bedchambers she was again surrounded by the bustle of maids. Readying her not only for bed, but for the Duke. A damp towel, doused in a light vanilla fragrance was used to wipe her body clean as they disrobed her from her complicated gown. Emeline merely stood in shock as they redressed her in a delicate nightgown. Her skin could easily be glimpsed under the thin material, but she relished in the freedom and lightness of it as it hung loosely about her. Unfortunately that was not to last as they begun replacing her wedding corset about her.

Emeline faltered as they strung it tightly without a word, “I hardly think a corset is practical.” She glared at the maids who merely bowed with a giggle and continued to flutter about her. Frustrated, she swung away from them before the corset could be tightened anymore and snatched the rich red robe from one of the maids. The silken cover slid down her as she wrapped it around her, the lacey sleeves caressing her small wrists.

“I no longer require your assistance.” her voice was steady, angry as the maids merely stared at her. Caught between their orders and the orders of the new Duchess.

“I said, I do not require your assistance anymore..” Emerald flashed intensely in the dimly lit chamber.

“But, madam-- your hair is still up.”

“Leave.” With that Emeline turned towards the small vanity that had been placed in the room for her female comfort- or vanity. A small tray of strawberries laid askew as she reached for one. She had requested the delicate fruit, feeling the explosion of sweetness against her lips calmed her.

The maids lingered, unsure as they stared cautiously at the new Mistress.
 
Alexander heard Emeline say ‘I do’ and that generally settled things as far as the formalities of the ceremony were concerned. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and thereafter, the ceremony wore down to it soon gave way to the party thereafter. The diner was rather consumed by a stream of people wishing to congratulate him again, offer their hopes that there would soon be an heir to join both countries together. Alexander rather slyly noted that he’d be sure to work upon that particular concern later.

Naturally Emeline was excused from the festivities early so as to prepare herself for the wedding night. But the Duke was expected to remain and there was suggested to a variety of suggestions as to what he should do to her soon to be blushing bride. A bemused smile graced his lips as several women were nearly as bad in the men with their suggestions as to exactly what he should be introducing his new wife to.

Alexander was naturally a number of cups of wine in as the evening wore on. He kept himself entertained with banter and food. But hours had past and then he rose from the table where he’d been ensconced and soon a procession of people followed him through the hallway towards the room that had been assigned to Emeline. The clamour of a crowd of people and the various loud and lewd comments that accompanied those fallowing him to the door would likely be more effective than any herald to announce his presence. His knuckles rapped upon the door and the maids let him in.

Alexander entered to the hoots and hollers of those outside. A grin graced his lips as his eyes slide over the room. He spied the maids lingering at the doorway and made a shooing wave of his hand. Thereafter, his eyes turned towards the robe clad form of Emeline. His eyes rested rather boldly upon her form. He walked over towards her and soon his tall form lingered over her. A strong hand came to rest upon her shoulder as he remarked “Emeline..” A grin graced his lips as he inquired “Are you ready..?” The look upon his face certainly seemed to indicate that he was. His fingers drifted along her neck as he let his fingertips trail along her. A slightly sardonic smile flickered across his lips as he noted “I assure you it will be thought..very proper.”
 
Emeline immediately flushed as her husband entered their chambers. The maids hurried out, leaving them alone; shutting them away from the prying eyes of their guests. The young woman wrapped her arms around her own chest, trying to ward off the chill that ran through her at the knowing gaze of her husband.

Emerald eyes widened at his question. A becoming flush began to blossom over her cheeks until she finally nodded in understanding., turning her face away. The young woman paled as she turned towards the large oak bed.

“Well…” peering over her shoulder at his shoes she dropped the red robe, revealing her bed clothing. “Lets get this over with.” Climbing onto the bed Emeline kneeled, her back towards him. Finding the pins within her hair she quickly unwound her locks. Long strawberry blond hair fell in heavy curls to her small waist. Placing the pins on the side of the bed she rolled to her back, nestling herself against the pillows.

Staring up at the ceiling Emeline swallowed, her hands shaking as they fell to her thighs. Slowly the material rose to reveal slender ankles, smooth legs and milky thighs. With a solemn face her eyes fluttered shut, her breath hitching as she braced herself.

“Get it over with…” she called as candle light played off her features. Her abundant tresses fanned around her reflecting the light in reds, golds and pinks. The rose of her nipples were easily glimpsed through the think cloth of her bed clothing, as was the shadow of her navel. Emeline’s fingers clung to the many folds of the linen cloth, her grip fierce and stiff.

“Hurry…” She whispered impatiently, feeling awkward within the large bed. She knew she must submit to the plunder of her husband, for consummation; for an heir.
 
Alexander had of course noted the flush that stained his wife’s cheeks. Those dark eyes lingered on her body as he stood beside her. Although he noted the rather panicked and pale look that crossed her features as she moved towards the oak bed that dominated one section of the room. As she lay down upon the bed he made his way over towards her. His tall form loomed over her and he lofted a brow as she said ‘let’s get this over with’…

The Duke gazed down at her and rather quizzically stated “Let’s get this over with?” Her husband seemed to consider that statement as he remarked “Take off your clothing Emeline.” He watched her raise it upward to bare her lower body as he noted “You are mine now, so there will be none of this bloody ‘properness’. I will decide what is proper for my wife.”

He leaned in towards her as his eyes slide up along her leg as his hand pressed to her flesh and followed it upwards along that shapely limb. “There is no getting this over with wife.” His lips formed a rather bemused smirk as he noted “If you are of the impression I have you once and that is the end of it, you’ve been sadly misinformed.” He leaned in further to press his lips to her own, kissing her rather firmly. “I’ll have you more than once yet tonight. And every other night that I should desire it which will be essentially everyone.”

He shook his head slightly as he remarked “You had best learn that it’s your role to please me in this wife. Urge me to hurry and get it over with, and you might as well walk out down the hallway and invite every attractive woman not only to be my mistress but to scheme to replace you.” He slowly undid his belt and let it with his sword slide to the floor. He pulled his shirt up and over his head and soon thereafter, undid his pants and kicked his boots from his feet. His pants were soon slipped downwards as he climbed atop the bed and his naked form moved to position himself atop of her and for his body to press between her thighs. His muscular form would press against her as his hand dug into her thigh, calloused fingers pressing into the soft flesh. His hand pressed into her and roamed upwards towards the curve of her ass.

His hand would fondle that rounded bottom as he leaned in towards her. His mouth rather forcefully claiming her own. He kissed her insistently as his other hand moved to press to her bosom. Letting his strong hand cup that soft globe of flesh, his hands becoming acquainted with her charms whatever eagerness she had for this to be done and over with. The Duke by contrast seemed eager to toy with what was now his.
 
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