The King ~ Timothée Chalamet

Everything she loved most

King~ Ch 30

"Amice shall remain in my council. Her advice has been crucial to the progression of our kingdom in this war. She shall remain in a position that shall allow her to give guidance upon external matters also." Henry's comand was final as he left the chamber, in search of the small girl that had taught his so much.

~

Nightfall submerged the world below in a sheen of darkness, yet the striking moon brought a glowing light down upon the earth, casting a magnificent halo of light onto the quiet castle.

Amice tugged sharply on the leather strap, securing the buckle so that the saddle did not fall from grace. Woven sacks were hung upon the horses back, supplies for the journey. She was dressed in her usual attire, with the addition of a cloak, a guard against the elements. As always, her sword and dagger adorned her waist. They usually brought her comfort, a sense of safety. But now, they seemed to weigh her down, the emblem upon the swords handle a sudden tonne.

"You're leaving." Came a cold voice. It was riddled with hurt and disappointment.

"I must." She said softly, turning to face Henry as he stood a few paces away from her steed. His face was contorted in anguish as he gazed upon her packed belongings and saddled horse.

"But, the council..." he whispered, already knowing it was no use. They stood in the courtyard of the French castle, eyes blazing into one another's.

"You know that we have no other choice. I cannot go back to England with you. It will be too hard. It would hurt too much. Had we been simple folk, we could have ridden to the ends of the earth together. But we are not. You are not. You have a duty. To your country and the people in it. Perhaps, in another life I shall see you again. Whether there be gods or not, my soul shall always belong with yours as you have my heart. But you know that I must go now. It is what is best." She said, her voice gentle, yet grief threatened to break through her weak facade.

"Where will you go?"

"France is a beautiful country, full of art and culture. Perhaps I'll pick up an instrument, or observe great scholars?" She said, the words bitter as one more, they both recalled their conversation about leaving the world behind.

"Will I ever see you again?" He wanted her to reassure him. He wanted to know that she was alright, that he could expect to see her smiling face before him once more.

"Fate works in mysterious ways Henry." Was all she said, not knowing what answer to give. She did not know for sure. She could not hand him empty promises. There had already been enough.

Henry watched in longing as Amice turned away from him, grasping the horses saddle as she mounted the beast, looking small yet mighty upon the animal. He drank her in. The way her hair flowed in the breeze, moonlight cascading through the delicate strands like a halo. The way her powerful eyes searched his face. Her delicate lips, set in a sad smile.

"Be careful Henry. There are people around you who do not have your best intentions at heart. I think it would be wise of you to speak with Gascoigne." She said, trying to warn him for she would not longer be at his side to protect him.

"Will you write to me?" He asked, but it came out begging. He cared not to talk of other matters. He wanted to be with her, even for a moment, as it may be their last.

"I doubt there will be many things of interest to write about." Once more, she could not hand him false promises.

"If you ever wish to, take this." He slipped a heavy ring off of his finger, taking a stride closer before gently tossing it to her. Of course she caught it. Amice inspected the piece of jewellery, noticing it was set with a circular emblem. A wax seal. "It is rather unique. Use it, and I shall know that the letter came from you." He watched as she analysed the ring, before slipping it into her breast pocket.

"Or perhaps I'll sell it." She joked. She knew she would never give it away. Ever.

They stared at each other for a moment longer, both wanting to say so much, yet not being able to find the words.

"Amice... I-" she cut him off before he could finish. He was thankful. He wasn't sure if he could utter the words without breaking down.

"I know. I will always love and remember you Henry. Always." A lonesome tear floated down her rosey cheek as she watched his eyes drop with pure sorrow.

"And I you." He managed to choke out, restraing his tears as he tucked his hands behind his back.

"Goodbye Amice." Now, he spoke as a king. Cold and commanding. She was leaving the boy king behind. And so was he.

"Goodbye, king of England."

And with that, she bucked her feet, whipping at the leather strap, urging the steed forward, away from the castle, away from the crown, away from the lonesome figure in the courtyard.

Away from everything she loved most.