Hamilton / Lams Oneshots

The King's Relations (Lams) [Monarchy AU]

"And with this, I shall conclude this meeting of the council. May your journey home be a calm one."

I nearly didn't stand when the king concluded our meeting, with the same words he always spoke. In fact, they weren't just the same words, it was the same tone, rehearsed and hammered into his routine by the royal advisor - really just a teacher meant to rehearse and control the king's public appearances.

The first time that I'd joined one of these council meetings as the king's transcript writer, I'd been taken aback by that tone, so calm and authoritative at the same time, so unlike the king, who's red curls stood off like fire against his dark green formal robes and reflected his personality with that same fire.

But over time, I'd gotten used to it, so much so that I nearly missed his closing words, only shaken out of my writing by the pushing of chairs around me.

I shot up myself, and my heart skipped a beat when I caught the glare of the royal advisor, who was standing close behind his majesty with his hands folded neatly behind his back. I prayed I wouldn't get in trouble later, but I felt the eyes of the council members burning into me, and I knew my moment of weakness hadn't gone unnoticed.

The king had already turned his back, as was demanded by protocol, and hadn't seen any of the happenings, silent and minuscule outwardly but biting with meaning.

An unattentive staff reflected badly on his majesty, especially when that staff wasn't of royal blood himself - only appointed at the king's personal wishes and accompanied with a bit of murmur throughout the royal inner circle.

Quickly, I lowered my head, to show my remorse and escape the burning gazes. As soon as the focus was off of me and the men had packed their things and headed towards the door, I made haste with collecting my things - ink, quill, and the paper, making sure the last was on top and I didn't touch the writing as it still needed time to dry.

"You, boy. Stand straight."

I flinched at the unpleasant voice of the advisor, demanding and sharp. Standing straight up, I let out a slight sigh before looking at him. 'That's not my name', I think to myself, though I don't dare speak it out loud, 'My name is John, like the apostle, like one of your kings, like... like the one who your student has been spending nearly all of his free time with. Why can't you remember that.'

"What is wrong with you", the man standing in front of me snapped. He was atleast double my age, maybe 35, maybe even more. Double my status, too.
"I'm not sure I understand, sir", I hear myself respond, and the advisor let out an exasperated scoff before turning on his heel and walking toward the door. The handle already in his hand, he turned around to me again. "Come to the study after the royal family has retired for the night. And don't be late." With those words, he left me the only person remaining in the council room, wondering what lied ahead of me.

I didn't have much time to wonder, however, as not even a minute later servants came to clean the room and I had to pack up. I rushed through the hallways, my things still clutched in my hands, towards the king's quarters, hoping to catch him for a moment of peace before he left for dinner. I couldn't help my heart racing, dreading whatever measures had been decided for me to feed his teacher's power highs.

I stopped in front of the door and put my ear to the wood, trying to guess if the king was still in his chambers, and if he was alone. When I didn't hear any sound, I knocked gently, taking my chances at him being either gone or alone.

"Come in", The king's voice came from behind the door, muffled by the thick oak and what I knew was a heavy tapestry on the other side of it. I opened the door carefully and stepped inside the lavish chambers.