The King ~ Timothée Chalamet

Blood laced with dishonour

King~ Ch. 6

The next morning, Henry was up early.

"Wonderful shot!" Clapped Henry as he approached the archery field, watching as Amice struck her 8th bullseyes in a row, this time splitting the arrow.

"I know." She replied rather bluntly, amusing him.

"You are not like other women I have met Amice." He speaks honestly.

"Is that so? Care to insult me more your grace?" She said, but her tone is playful.

"I did not mean it poorly."

"Of course not, I'm sure your highness would never be so cruel. After all, that is not proper conduct." She chuckled, jokingly tutting at him. He smiled in return.

Amice lowered the bow and instead grabbed a sword from the stand nearby.

"Spar me." She said.

Henry is taken aback. She wants to duel him?

"I will not fight a lady."

"I'm not a lady, spar me." She rolled her eyes.

"Women shouldn't fight." He said before he realised the offence his words bear.

"Just because you men think we shouldn't, doesn't mean we can't." She said, her tone sharp, clearly irritated.

"I did not mean it as such. I meant the height advantage, the strength-"

"Coward." She teased, a smirk plastered on her face.

"I'm not-"

"Then stop making excuses and fight me."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I wouldn't worry about it." She grinned.

Henry sighed as he unsheathed his sword, standing in a ready stance. He expected to take it easy, but Amice lunged as him sharply and he barely brought the steel up in time to block the blow. A sharp twang rang out through the courtyard as they locked swords. Henry fought to keep his position, the girls abilities surprising him.  They both pulled back, circling. This time, Amice's strike was tactful and elegant, the blade flowing through the air as Henry struggled to block every attack. His turn to engage. He swung at her shoulder but she dodged it, bringing her blade forward below his to jab him in the stomach. He jumped aside just in time and span his blade around hers, flinging it sharply from her grasp. It clattered across the courtyard stones and he expected her advance to stop, but instead she dropped her body weight, kicking his feet out from under him before pouncing on top of him, drawing a blade and holding it to his neck. She wins.
They both breathed heavily for a moment, locked in place, before Amice burst out in laughter, as did he. He felt like a child again, sparring with his brother around the back of the castle so father didn't see. She tucked away her blade into its tailbone holster and stood, offering a hand to pull him up. 

"Who taught you to fight like that?" Asked Henry as he retrieved their swords.

"My father."

"Is he a knight?" He asked, fearing that perhaps he had been off fighting one of his fathers terrible wars.

"Nothing but a humble innkeep."

He was relieved.

"Perhaps one day I can meet him?" He asked hopefully. He would love to see the man that raised such a fiery woman.

"That may be difficult."

"How so?"

"My father was murdered."

Henry froze, but Amice continued on as if nothing had happened, restringing her bow.

"Amice... I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Your words bear no comfort to me."

"Your father must have been a great man."

"I thought so. Not many agreed."

"What do you mean?"

She stopped what she was doing and her eyes turned sad.
"They said my father was a cruel man. That he had veins that cradled blood laced with dishonour. But in truth he was a virtuous man, simple and far from the reach of corruption. But his kindness was his fault, and his generosity lead to his death. They said he was a treasonous bastard with a vile disloyalty to the throne, when in reality he simply accommodated travellers in his inn. He was murdered on the orders of your father for hosting a French trader and his family."

His father. His cruel, vile father committed countless evils. Even after his death it seemed he was hurting others. Henry hated that Alice was one of them.

"Amice... if there was any way I could undo-"

"But there is not. Your father tried to have me killed too, had my mother not offered herself to be sold into slavery."  Her voice was calmer, lost in a memory.

"I-" he stumbled, searching for the words.

"I was left alone. It was winter. They left me alone in a hut to freeze or starve or be raped and murdered, whichever fate found me first." A lone tear fell down her cheek, and she was quick to swipe it away, and he pretended not to notice. Nonetheless, she continued : "But I built fires. I hunted. I ate and used leather and furs to keep warm. I trained, hoping to one day avenge my fathers injustice. But it was too late. England's usurper king was dead. In his place, his son. I had intended to kill you when I first came to London. But seeing you, watching your rule. I could not. Your father was the worst thing that ever happened to me. But you are the best thing to happen to England. It's bizarre really. I guess in a way I must thank him. His foul existence did bring about some good."

Her honesty shook him to the core. She had confessed to wanted to murder the king. But he didn't feel endangered or betrayed. He felt for her. She was hurt and angry, yet that had flowered into wisdom and fierceness.

"What about your mother?"

"She's dead. Raped and died in childbirth. I tried to find her. There was nothing left to be found." She said solemnly. When he remained silent, she made no apologies for his discomfort, but simply gathered her quiver and began firing arrows again.

He wasnt the sure what came over him, but in that moment, he wanted nothing more than for her to stay at his side, to hear her honest and wise words. To have her speak for England. He could only think of one way of ensuring that.

"Stay in my court." He blurted out and she looked at him in confusion. She opened her mouth to speak but he quickly continued, knowing what she was going to say.
"Not as a lady, but as one of my advisers. You speak honest and true, and over these few days I have found to bear nothing but respect for you. I cannot amend my fathers actions, but I can try to be the king this country needs. And I would like you to assist me in that."

Amice pondered his words.

"A woman at court is unheard of." She finally smirked.

"You said it yourself, you are not like other women." He grinned in return.