[1] WEEPING MONK // you're not what I was looking for

38| Alliances {Part Three}

Ari accepts an invitation and a rising jealousy prompts Lancelot to take a risk.

Ari again felt out of place here. The Lord has said they had prepared a meal, not a feast, and she was both unprepared and underdressed for what she was standing amongst now. Herself and her Fey did not exactly fit in with the grandeur of this castle's hall. Her father was perhaps the only one who looked like he might belong within these stone walls finely decorated and adorned with buntings, seasonal flowers somehow in bloom and banners hanging from the walls.

The feast had been more of a buffet, lined along cloth covered tables pushed back against the wall where people could pick and choose as they wished from the silvered plates. There were many people from the town here, some who she had met just earlier. The Lord and his son introduced her diligently to most, more particularly to those who were not just town folk, but people of a higher status who had more influence to help her cause, the whole reason why she was at this castle in the first place.

Ari pulled on her best yet subtle mask of the queen and acted accordingly, her back quickly tiring from standing so tall. She felt like she were caught in a game of social politics which she were so unused to amongst her own kind, and most of the pawns in this game seemed to be men. Their wives, mothers and daughters all dressed much more prettily than she and seeking a gentleman to court for the evening or a note to gossip upon. It was obvious when they looked to her how they expected something more. More highborn, more fancily dressed, more crowned with jewels, more like a queen and not a warrior. Ari just turned her eyes away from the other women's peeks and gazes, if only they knew the powers which she held in her veins then they would not look at her in such a way.

Lancelot watched her like always, keeping an eye on those around her for the sake of predicting something untoward which might occur before it did. He hoped that nothing of the sort would happen. This Lord seemed determined that he and the others here would help their cause to take back what had once and would always be theirs. And so the Fey queen needed this night to go well. They could not afford to lose this allegiance which had fallen right into their hands.

She had not looked to him other than perhaps accidentally on a passing glance, and even then it was only once or twice. By now he thinks that she should expect for him to be keeping a careful, protective eye on her on evenings such as this, surrounded by strangers. He knew that he could not go to her however much the ache in his bones taunted him to do so.

The gathered crowd began to edge to the sides of the room and Lancelot knew too exactly what was coming next in this affair before the flute and strings had even started playing.

Henry held out his hand in offering to the Fey queen, "A dance? Your Grace?"

Ari did not entirely startle but she twisted to the young Lord's son quickly. His eyes looked rather hopeful and the smile on his face was inviting. She did not know why, but she took his hand and he led her to join amongst the others.