First at Last (Updated Version)

Chapter Ten: William

William strode down the long corridor to his father's throne room. He clenched and unclenched his hands as he walked, unable to quite shake the feeling of anxiety that a formal meeting with his father always left him with. His eyes burned a little from exhaustion, and he had to stifle a yawn every now and then. He had left Erika's room in the small hours of the morning, while she had still been sound asleep. His heart had felt heavy when he had whispered a goodbye that she would not remember upon waking and climbed back down her balcony. Still, despite the very little sleep he'd gotten, at least he'd been able to see her and be with her.

He turned the corner and the grand oak doors appeared before him at the end of the hallway. The throne room was his least favorite room in the palace. It was usually the place where his father would reprimand him or give him bad news or force him to meet potential brides.

"Do you know what he is going to speak to you about?" Gabriel asked, seeming to appear out of nowhere to join William.

"Do I ever?" William replied grimly, narrowing his eyes at the door that seemed to get farther and farther with each step he took toward it.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, the only sound the clinking of the scabbard at Gabriel's belt. "William," Gabriel said, suddenly serious.

William glanced at his friend. "Yes?"

"Just . . . think before you speak."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You never do where your father is concerned. I am just thinking that, perhaps, he might go a bit easier on you if you think carefully about what you say to him. Try not to upset him."

"Thank you," William said flatly. "That is very helpful."

"Only looking out for you," Gabriel replied with a grin.

Thinking on Gabriel's words, William thought he might have known what this conversation would be about, more so than he was letting on, at least.

After what seemed an impossibly long time, they'd reached the door at the end of the hall. Two guards who were posted on either side bowed to them and let them into the throne room.

William's stomach knotted in dread. They were expecting him. He stepped through, leaving Gabriel out in the hall. The doors echoed shut behind him, far too loud in the silence. Immediately, he felt the oppressive air around him and he took a steadying breath to calm himself.

King Henry sat on his throne, his back rigid, his dark eyes cold and calculating, as William walked toward him.

The throne room had always been a bit too . . . extravagant for William's liking. The throne his father sat on was made entirely of gold, with a plush red velvet cushion to sit on. It was so large that Father's feet only just brushed the ground. The throne beside it was smaller and more elegant, meant for the queen. The floor was tiled with hand-carved marble and small gold designs. Thousand-year-old tapestries lined the walls, depicting stories that had long-since been forgotten. A golden chandelier hung from the domed ceiling; it was so large that it covered nearly the entire ceiling, hanging from gold chains woven through with strings of pearls. On the parts of the ceiling that were not covered by the chandelier, more designs were carved into the wood, telling stories in dead languages.

William stood before his father and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty," he murmured respectfully.

"Rise," the king's voice rang out across the room with an authority that William had always found admirable—and very intimidating.

William did as he was told, straightening, and then looked up at his father. "You called for me?"

"I did. Your mother and I have been working with Lord Lovet of Locksley on a marriage arrangement between you and his daughter, Lady Alice Lovet."