Myuri: Chapter 4: Appealing

“Who is that?” Reina stumbled out of her lavish new bed, and took a flying leap for the window seat. She peered out the window; it was so early, the sky was still dark. “LaRue, who is that?”

The old woman sat up and yawned and joined Reina at the window seat. “Just a boy,” LaRue replied. “Just a boy. And just because you will now be attending court, you are not free to flirt with any young gentlemen, no matter how appealing.”

“Why ever?” sighed Reina. She brought down her hand which she had used to wave at the darkly handsome young man, outside.

“Because you would break the king’s feeble old heart. He’s quite, quite, taken with you, you know?”

Reina tossed back locks of her jet-black hair. “Of course I know. He gave me these rooms, didn’t he? These gorgeous apartments that were once his late queen’s?”

“How do you know that?” asked LaRue, raising her brow. “His queen died before you were even born.”

“I heard some maids talking,” Reina replied, simply. “Apparently they have not been in use since her death.”

“You’re such a vain thing,” LaRue said, with a half-smile on her lips. “You truly do belong at court.” She looked at Reina and saw herself, decades ago, when she was still young and beautiful and heartily desired. She recounted how conceited, how vain she had been; only after her one true love walked out of her life, did she realize how meaningless it was, to have the hearts of so many, and yet lose the only one you truly desired. Don’t cry, LaRue. Only fools cry.

Reina looked down at her hands, neatly folded in her lap. “Oh, do I?” She swallowed. “LaRue, I’m… scared. You can’t leave me. You can’t go to Willow House and leave me. No, you can’t.”

“It is the will of the king.”

Reina smiled. “The king is not a god.” Both laughed, for a moment. “When will you be leaving?”

“After he has broken his fast, the king will see to my departure. So in a few hours, perhaps.”

They sat in silence.

“God, Reina, don’t cry. How old are you? Seventeen? Don’t cry.”

“What do I have now, though?” Reina whimpered. “Not my home, not my father, not you…”

“You have a promising future,” LaRue said. “Something I don’t.”

Reina could not deny this.

“Take this.” LaRue unclasped a silver chain from her neck; she held a jewel in her palm, and squeezed it for a second. Then she opened up her hand and offered Reina its contents: a fat moonstone necklace. “I’ve no need of it, so don’t even argue with me. Don’t. Just take it.”

Reina looked up at her, with big, teary eyes. “I-I – why ?”

“Your heart is so young, but with it you must love wisely,” the old woman whispered. “Or it will break.”

*

It was terribly early. Most of the palace was still sleeping; King David’s court was renowned for its laziness and indulgence.

“Put Master Eric’s bags on the cart,” Prince Ardin ordered the small staff of boy servants. “And take him to his rooms.” He looked at Eric. “I’ll have Rynn taken to the royal nursery.”

“I thank Your Majesty.” Eric stepped out of the carriage.

Ardin turned to him. “Are you good with horses, Master Eric? Are you a fine rider?”

“I know breeds well, and I am sufficient at riding,” Eric replied.

“My father needs a new Master of Horse, at least for the given, so I have given you apartments at the stables.”

Eric smiled. “I am grateful for it, Your Majesty. When will I next see you?” At that moment, he gazed up into the window above them. A girl he recognized waved at him; he recounted seeing her some two days or so, ago. She was all dark hair and thirsty eyes, how could he forget?

He waved back, and offered the girl a faint grin.

“You will sup with myself and His Majesty, my father, and another guest of his.” Ardin paused. “Who… who were you waving at, up there? Who is in those rooms?”

“Just a girl, Your Majesty,” Eric said, with a little shrug. “Just a girl.”

*

“I, too, plan to wed soon,” Thomas said, refilling his wooden cup with wine. “Later this summer, at court.”

“You are one of His Majesty Prince Ardin’s grooms?” Justinian inquired. He set his own cup aside; he was always careful not to drink too much.

“Yes, and a knight.” Thomas finished the contents of his cup and refilled it again. “Where do you plan to go, now that you have left your master?”

“Wherever there is work and a place for myself and my sweetheart.” Justin’s hand found Klaude’s under the table. She had only drank a little bit; wine was too bitter for her delicate self.

Thomas was quiet; he seemed deep in thought. “Court?”

“What, Sir?” Klaude asked.

He smiled; he had aroused the girl’s attentions, and the boy had looked up. “Yes, court. The king is in need of a master of horse, and a new maid would not hurt.”

“Court? Up north? At the capital?” gasped Klaude, frantic as a girl. “Oh, court? Where His Majesty Himself is stationed?”

Endeared by her ever-youthful charm, Thomas laughed. “Why, yes. And I could speak to His Majesty on behalf of a marriage license, for you two.”

“Have you the right to invite us? To court?” asked Justinian, cautiously. But he, too, was smiling, at how all had come to work.

“Yes,” Thomas said, with an equally careful smile. “I am sent by Prince Ardin, himself.”

*

Ardin pushed past the guard posted outside his father’s door.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed curtly.

“Ardin, I will see you when we dine tonight. He is here, right? The boy? The boy who will do our bidding?” David whispered.

“Yes. He is here and all is well and I have received word from Sir Thomas, that he is returning with a boy and a girl,” Ardin said through gritted teeth. “But, Your Majesty –”

“Thank you, Prince. I will see you when we sup with our guests tonight.” David gestured towards the door. He was a mountain of jewel-embroidered capes despite the summer heat; he was seated at a small table for two with a bottle of wine and two chalices.

“Your Majesty, I desire to know if someone… someone is living at my mother’s rooms?”

David’s face hardened. “Go away.”

“Your Majesty… they have not been in use since her death,” Ardin pushed, as he backed away from his father a bit.

“Go away, lad. Go.”

“Your Majesty, are you taking a mistress?” Ardin asked without hesitation.

“Get out!” David half-shrieked.

The blood pounding in his ears, Prince Ardin bowed tersely as he had upon his entrance. “Majesty.” And he left.

But as he turned to leave, he heard a meek knock on the back door of his father’s room. “Your Majesty, it is I, Reina, here at your request.”

*

There was no grand dinner in the dining hall, that evening; just candlelight and an intimately small table, set with few dishes, in King David’s rooms.

He had just returned from riding with Reina; they sat at the table, waiting for their other guests to arrive. With them as chaperones, were the noble Mistress Vella, daughter of a popular lord, and one of her maids-in-waiting.

“You are a wonderful horseman, Your Majesty,” Reina said, sweetly.

“You make for very good company, Sweet Reina,” David replied, merrily.

She smiled and took off the riding cape he had given her, revealing a shimmering moonstone pendant on a silver chain at her neck.

“Who gave you that?” David asked, sharply, as though fearing a rival for the maid’s heart.

“Madam LaRue,” Reina said uncomfortably. “The lady who left this morning.”

The king laughed, relieved. “Very pretty.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Will you call me David?” he asked, shyly.

“David,” Reina said, warmly. “With all my heart I have enjoyed this day with you.” This was a half-lie: Reina had enjoyed a fine day of drinking and riding in the sun, but not the company of this old and unappealing man. Some of his gentlemen were handsome and would flash her smiles, but David kept her in his hand protectively at all times.

The king could no longer resist her; he leaned in to kiss Reina’s perfectly desirable lips. She braced herself for his foul breath and filthy mouth against her own, but Vella opened the door to admit their guests just in time.

“Your Majesty.” Prince Ardin and another young man stood in the doorway. “I present Master Eric, your new master of horse.”

Eric knelt, and rose meekly at the king’s command.

“Welcome to court, Eric,” David said irritably. “Let us please all sit, and dine.” He sat at the head of the small table; Reina, Vella, and her maid sat at one side of the table, the prince and Eric at the other.

Ardin took notice of Reina instantly; he stared blankly at her, for a few moments. She looked like some sort of dark Jezebel. She did not bring her eyes down modestly; she met and matched his gaze in full. He continued to examine her, to study her: too majestic to be a harlot; so beautiful, like candy for the eye.

“Your Majesty, you have not introduced us to this lady,” Ardin said.

“This is Mistress Reina, new to court,” the king said, impatiently. He drank from his glass of ale and did not meet his son’s questioning gaze.

They ate in silence for some time, save for some conversation between the prince and his father. Eric and Reina exchanged slight smiles; she could have spent hours looking at him, but she remembered LaRue’s warning.

Soon the dishes were empty, and servants were called to haul them away. David summoned musicians so that there could be dancing, and they all stood and lined up as the first song began.

The king took Reina as his partner, although the prince had initially reached for her. He settled for Vella, and Eric took the maid; she was blushing, quite, quite pleased with her darkly attractive partner.

They danced for some time; David let go of Reina only when it was late and time for them all to retire, and he did this with reluctance.

*

“Who is she?”

Vella looked up from her embroidery. Ardin. “Majesty,” she said, confused, and rose from the couch of her rooms. “You must know, now that I will soon wed the courtier, Sir Thomas, that… we cannot…”

“I’m not here for that,” Ardin said, spitefully.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Vella said, in a small voice. “You were saying? Who is who?”

“Reina. At the dinner. Who is Reina?” the prince persisted. He picked her up by the collar of her dress. “Who is she!”

“I-I… I don’t know much,” Vella said shakily.

“If that isn’t an understatement,” grumbled Ardin. He let her go so violently that she fell back onto the floor.

“She is a commoner from the south, whose village was overrun. I don’t know much… I don’t… I am sorry, Your Majesty. She is nothing, and yet your father appears…” she hesitated, “in love. I can’t imagine why.”

Ardin laughed bitterly. “You – you – can’t imagine why.”

“No, Your Majesty. Why do you think?”

“Because she’s appealing,” the prince said, desirously, his face distant, “because she’s appealing. Because she’s beautiful.”

“You, yourself, seem… in love.”

“Maybe I am.”

*

The next couple of weeks were merry for Reina. By day she would ride with the king, bowl with him and his gentlemen, and sometimes, when his health was good, lead the hunt at his side. At night, she would dine with the king alone in his rooms, and he would shower her with jewels and hoods and cloaks and furs.

They had just finished dinner; David dismissed their two chaperones.

“What is the matter, Your Majesty?” Reina asked, puzzled.

“I… I have something to ask of you, Reina.”

“Oh, anything, Sire. Anything that I can give you, I will.”

“Reina,” David began. He reached for her hand and put it to his cheek. “I want you to be my mistress. My royal mistress.”

He held out a ring with the fattest diamond Reina had ever seen; it was like a mirror, reflecting her face in full.

“Your Majesty, David…” Reina said, hesitantly. “I am… offended.”

“Offended?” The king was puzzled. In his youth he had taken many mistresses, particularly while his late wife was pregnant with Ardin. They had never denied him, let alone said they were offended.

“Yes,” she said, demurely. “When I am in love with you, like this, and believed you loved me, too, that you desire me only as a personal whore, I am… offended.”

“A royal mistress is not a whore!” gasped David.

Reina shook her head, fake tears slithering down her cheeks. “I want to be your full lover and dear queen.”

“Know that I want you so, too. But, but… it would be… there would be… difficulties. Complications.”

“What difficulties? What complications? You are a free man!” Reina was surprised by her daringly disrespectful words, her rising ambition, and, most of all, her power over the king of Myuri.

“Just be mine!” the old man screamed. “Just be mine. Oh, God, just please be mine…”

“Your queen? Your loving queen?” Reina confirmed.

“Yes, that. Yes. I would die, my heart would break, if you were another’s,” David said breathlessly.

“Good, good. Then put that ring on my finger, will you?”

She smiled. David, King of Myuri, was good as her slave.

*

“My love,” said Thomas, as he embraced his betrothed, waiting for him at the palace gates.

Vella smiled. “Who is here, with you?”

“The Mistress Klaude and her betrothed Justinian. I have promised them both positions at His Majesty’s court,” Thomas said, warmly. “Are you aware of openings?” He ordered a page to take his horses to the stables and his carriage to the lot, and with Klaude and Justinian followed Vella to the gardens.

“Yes,” Vella said, after greeting Klaude and Justinian appropriately. “Justinian, you may join Master Eric as a master of horse, in the stables.” She extended her hand, and he thanked her and kissed it. “Klaude, the King David’s consort-to-be is in need of maids-in-waiting.”

A couple of pages arrived to take Klaude and Justinian to their rooms, and then hand-in-hand Vella and Thomas continued their walk.

“Consort-to-be?” asked Thomas. “While I was away, David proposed marriage?”

“Why, yes,” Vella said.

“To a duchess? A foreign princess?” he guessed.

Vella laughed. “To a southern whore.”

*

While Reina’s new staff of maids unpacked their belongings in the small rooms adjacent to hers, she and Klaude sat alone in her receiving rooms.

“Milady,” Klaude said warmly, “would you like to play cards?”

Reina shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“I could try to play you a song on the lute, milady, though I am not exactly well-educated in music,” Klaude offered.

“No, thank you. The king will usually go riding with me. I like to ride.”

“My betrothed works with His Majesty’s horses in the stables,” Klaude said. “He could let us ride, I am sure.”

“Oh, yes, please!” Reina gasped. “Anything to get out of these dingy rooms. Let us go… Klaude.”

Klaude smiled, and led her new friend, the to-be queen of Myuri, to the stables.

Eric and Justinian had just returned from exercising the king’s favorite horses for the celebratory hunt that was to occur the following week.

“He calls these horses ‘Thunder’ and ‘Lightning’ I am told,” Eric said with a laugh, as they returned the horses to the stables and set new beds of hay.

“Creative.” Justin smiled.

“Have you ever seen His Majesty’s bride-to-be?” Eric inquired as they changed water dishes.

“No.”

“Well, here she is.”

Justinian looked up and gasped. Klaude was there, with a dark-haired and dark-eyed and pale-skinned woman.

“The Lady Reina,” Klaude said, awkwardly. She was wearing a small gray dress and sandals, whereas Reina was adorned in a rich black riding gown, with her hair up in a matching black riding cap. She wore leather riding gloves and heeled riding boots; one could see that she was already queen in all but name.

“Lady Reina, do you wish to ride?” Justin asked, uncomfortably.

“Yes, with my maid Klaude. But I don’t know the paths very well, so I will need you to accompany me,” Reina said.

“This is but my second day at the stables, and so I don’t know the paths very well, either.” Justinian turned to Eric. “Master Eric may accompany you.”

“I would like that.” She gave Eric a suggestive little sideways smile, which he matched with one of his own.

“Can you not come?” Klaude asked, reaching for Justinian’s hand.

He kissed her little fingers. “If the Lady Reina would allow me.”

“Happily,” Reina said. “Let us all ride together.”

Four horses were saddled, and Justinian packed a basket of some fruit and wine in case they would want to stop and eat.

Justinian then lifted his little lover onto her white mare, and then mounted his own horse.

“Do you need help, milady?” Eric asked, with a laugh, as again and again Reina struggled and failed to climb onto her own mount.

“No, I need only a moment.” She tried to pull at her horse’s reins and dig a heel into the side of its saddle, only for the horse to buckle and cause her to fall back.

Eric caught her. “Let me help you,” he whispered.

“Fine. You may lift me onto my horse, but know that if I wanted to, I could have done so, myself.”

“I am sure that is so, Lady Reina, but we all want to eventually eat our dinners and go to our beds and sleep, so I will assist you.” He helped Reina onto her stallion with tender hands, and when she was up and seated, he took his sweet time sliding them off.

She smiled. “I do not appreciate your sarcasm, but I thank you.”

“I am but at your command, Milady.”

And so they set off, four beautifully youthful courtiers, fun-loving and flirtatious. Eric led the way, and, desperate to prove her competence, Reina pushed her horse to race at his side.

“I have seen you before, have I not?” asked Eric, turning to Reina and slowing down.

“Oh, yes, is that why you act so familiar with me?” Reina teased.

“I ask only for the facts, Madam. Always.”

“Well, then, to answer your question, yes,” Reina said, plainly. “At a tavern. You called me tempting, did you not?”

“I didn’t know that we would meet again.”

“Ah, but here we are and so what have you to say to me, now?”

Eric said nothing; he blushed and looked away.

“Got you,” laughed Reina.

They rode in silence for a bit, and then Eric spoke. “The same.”

“What?”

“You are tempting. And all the more so, now that I know I could never have you.”

Reina was in a state of disbelief as to what this man had just dared to say. He met her incredulous stare with a modest smile.

“Well,” Reina said, quietly. “How do you know that?”

They reached a plain of green summer grass, beside a quiet stream, and Justinian tied their horses to a tree and helped them drink the water. And then they all gathered in the soft grass for apples and oranges and strawberries and wine, before riding back to the stables.

“Klaude,” Reina said. “We can stay a little bit longer so that you may be with Justinian.” Before Klaude could reply, Reina tore away and asked Eric to come outside the stables with her.

“Yes, Milady?” Eric asked, polite as any courtier would be, to the king’s betrothed.

“I need to see you again,” Reina said, hesitantly. “Alone.”

Eric smirked. “Are you flirting with me, Lady Reina?”

“I am not,” Reina lied.

“I am saddened to hear that.”

She laughed. “I’m going to leave now, but I will come again soon.”

“Please.” Eric knelt and kissed her hand and rubbed it against his cheek.

And then Reina and Klaude were gone, leaving two men heartbroken at the royal stables.

*

That evening, Justinian and Eric supped privately at the dining room of their joint apartments.

“You seem to like the Lady Reina,” Justinian said, light-heartedly. His tongue was slightly loosened from their drinking.

Eric laughed, and thought of Reina, clearly hot for himself; she was so young and so attractive and yet betrothed to a sickly old man who would never be able to keep up with her. “She is just the king’s whore, really. She is just a whore.” He paused. “But an appealing one.”