WAR | Timothée Chalamet

13 | Cherry Wine

Y/N

_

I stuck out like a sore thumb.

As I was being guided through the Frey's castle, I felt eyes following me wherever I went. It reminded me of the time I first came to Valor. Wait, sorry, when I was first kidnapped and taken to valor.

The guards escorting me stopped in front of a large gold door, their faces pressed expressionless. Here it was, the same old royalty spiel I was told time and time again.

"Let me guess," I sighed, "don't speak to the king unless he speaks to you?"

The guard to my right furrowed a brow, "exactly."

"Hate to break it to you," I shrugged, "but I don't give a damn about rules."

Brushing past them, I pushed open the doors and started to strut down the walkway. I heard a clutter of gasps at my intrusion, but I was more focused on the man sitting on his golden throne in front of me. Coming to a stop in front of the platform, and plastered a fake smile on my face.

"Hi," I said through gritted teeth, "I need to speak to you, King Grey."

I suppose no one had ever seen someone talk to their king directly, because they automatically started whispering in horrified tones.

"I'd assume so," the man laughed, the golden crown on his head bouncing against his brown hair, "and call me Henry."

"Why should it matter what I call you?"

"Because we're both royalty, so proper terms aren't needed."

I already didn't like the fact that he was trying to make small talk at a time like this. I rolled my eyes, letting out a frustrated breath.

"So Timothée got himself a wife," Henry nodded, apparently amused with that statement.

With every second that he wasted making pointless conversations, it made me want to rip the crown of his head and throw it into the pond outside. If he didn't just shut up for a second, Timothée might end up dead on the ground of a battlefield.

"Yes," I frowned, "why do you care who he marries?"

"We're cousins, so I'm upset I didn't get an invitation."

"Well, Henry, considering that we're in the middle of a war, an invitation wasn't guaranteed."

"Ah, yes, the war."

"Yes, the war!"

I tugged at the side of my dress, preventing myself from clenching a fist. I may be a queen, but my temper was still the same as it was in Lourdes. Henry adjusted his position on his throne, clearing his throat.

"I assume you're talking about the fire?" he said, "the one that burned your city down?"

I wanted to punch him. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about."

"That wasn't us, we didn't do it."

I paused. What? I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I was completely and utterly confused by that.

"Excuse me?" I stuttered.

"The fire? Not us."

"What?"

"We didn't start the fire."

I snapped my mouth shut, ignoring the sniggering coming from the crowd behind me. How was I supposed to know they didn't start the fire? my cheeks were red with embarrassment, but I turned my head to look back at the King.

"So who did then?" I scoffed.

Henry twirled a string of his hair around his finger, "some bandits from the South."

"And you expect me to believe you?"

"No, but we did manage to catch them. They're in the dungeon if you want to look."

I furrowed my brow, not sure what to say. In all honesty, I looked like a fool just strutting in here, and blowing a fuse. But I didn't care, at least I learned the truth before my kingdom was sent to a false war.

"So there is no war?" I asked, trying to reach some clarification.

"Just the current one we're in."

I cleared my throat, "then I have come here to finish that one as well."

He tilted his head, seemingly trying to contemplate the offer. I brushed a piece of stray hair out of my face as I waited, my foot tapping impatiently against the ground.

"Let's discuss this later," Henry said finally, "come have a drink."

"A drink?"

"Yes," he suggested, "it's your first time in Frey, is it not? Might as well welcome you here."

At least this was going somewhere. If I took up his proposal, maybe it would show that I trust him, and he would partner in my fight to end the war.

"Fine," I nodded, "let's drink."

_

"So," Henry said, "how's my cousin?"

I was sitting in his dining hall, staring at him from the other end of the table. When he offered a drink, I didn't expect him to pull out a whole Buffett in front of me. I poked at my plate with my fork, not sure what to think.

"He's fine," I answered, "married."

"To a beautiful bride, nonetheless."

Was he...hitting on me? No, I'm just overthinking this. I decided to accept the compliment, but pay no more mind to it. I came here to talk business, not beauty.

"Thank you," I mumbled, "can we talk about settling the war now?"

"Have some wine first."

He pointed at the full chalice in front of me, the red liquid almost spilling over the side. He seemed insistent, but I wanted to get it over with. Picking it up slowly, I brought the cup to my lips, sipping the sweet drink.

"What is this?" I said, inspecting the taste.

"Cherry wine."

I paused, a sudden wave of nausea washing over me. At first it tasted sweet, but now it tasted extremely bitter.

"It's tastes....strange," I mumbled.

Why did my voice sound weird? I looked back up at Henry, before I realized he had moved from his seat and was now standing beside me. How did he get here so fast? I tried to stand up, but my head was buzzing dizzily. I felt weighed down by exhaustion.

"What did you put in my drink?" I slurred, my hand sweeping against the table.

I accidentally hit the chalice, and the red liquid started spilling onto the floor. I felt sick. The last thing I saw was Henry kneeling next to me, picking up the fallen cup.

"Don't you worry about that, darling," he smiled, "you'll be just fine."

Then blacked out.