Lavenders Blue ❦

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟChapter Eight; Negatives to Positives

Ten Days Left Until the Ball

Keith's fingers wedge so tightly around the desk, his knuckles turn white as chalk. "What do you mean, no?"

"I will not allow it." Krolia says, trying her best to stay calmer this time around. She'd prefer their argument over a simple request ended on good terms. "If the common folk wanted the right to attend royal balls, especially of the spouse-choosing caliber, they would have requested it."

The Prince scowls, but he knows he will not win against his mother in an act of violence. His stance turns polite and patient, but his eyes are grim and piercing. "Have you ever considered that with the proper education, a 'commoner' would be able to rule Marmora?"

"If they truly wanted to be a ruler, they would have worked harder to receive said education."

"Mother!" Keith says, chest filling with empty justice. "Most of your citizens are in poverty. You cannot think it just to sit here and judge them for their financial situations, the ones you have put them in! There is no way you can think that is right!"

"When you are King," She states in reply, "You will learn the pleasure of power; I get to choose what is right. You will too."

"Then make it right for him to come to the ball." Keith sulks, letting himself get desperate, extremely out of character for him. If he were only not as lovesick as he is, he'd be embarrassed of himself. "You don't have to invite the whole village, I only ask that you let me bring Lance. Meet him, and see beyond the money in his pocket. The same way my Grandfather looked at you."

The room is silent, like thick tension is being pumped into the air. Keith holds his ground, tense and determined. Krolia's weak spot, her Achilles heel; it has always been her late husband, and in elaboration, Keith's late Father.

"If I manage him an invitation to your ball,"

Keith's eyes light up. He can feel the build-up of potential excitement, waiting to pop.

"And you can manage him to say yes to a proposal, safe of bribery or persuasion, we may find the funds for an education. Think about this, Keith. You've only met days ago. You've known some of these Dukes and Princes since such deep youth that you couldn't speak. If he cannot give you the answer you desire, I shall arrange you with someone beneficial for the kingdom."

Yes. This is all he's ever wanted, all he's been begging for, but he's still unsure of the motive. "A queen, offering a wager?"

"Consider it your mother turning over a new leaf," She says, standing up from her desk chair, both her and her seat rich in expensive materials. "I am quite sure neither of us can say that we've been on the same page lately. I would like to make sure our relationship improves, and I hope it continues to grow. You must always know that I love you, my son."

Krolia pulls open a desk drawer and carefully withdraws a creamy white envelope, sealed with midnight indigo wax, stamped with Marmora's seal. Keith takes it, carefully, the crisp ends of his gloves dusting off the tiny specks of dust on the edges. Nothing can happen to this. It must remain in perfect tact.

An invitation to the ball, sealed with the Marmora family crest. "Thank you." He says thankfully. The Queen smiles.

"Wait," Keith says, stopping her before she slides the drawer shut. "I need three more. For his family."

Krolia hesitates. "May I ask why?"

"His step-family would never let him go alone. They're a snotty bunch, and he is a saving grace." He says, choosing his words carefully and carelessly at the same time. She shakes her head, once and only once, and Keith visualizes his concern.