2 The Gentle Queen

Jonathor was left stunned alone in the silence.

"She's mad."

He went back behind the desk and slumped into the chair.

It was true that Robard Rosecliffe had done him a great favour, one he knew he might never be able to return. Jonathor's mother had died in childbirth and then when he was five the King Alfons had been assassinated. This had left the Child-King in a vulnerable position with many of the Great Noble Houses vying for control of him and through him the Kingdom. In the end some had though it would be better to remove the crown from House Autrour entirely and pass it on to Rosecliffe who had maintained blood ties with the royal house from the founding of the Autourian dynasty through Lysender's younger brother. Robard had refused the crown and taken the regency and betrothing his young daughter to Jonathor in order to further strengthen the young King's position.

The two children had been raised together and tutored for their futures as the Monarchs. However, where Jonathor was diligently preparing for the duties that would be conferred upon him, Elsbeth had been ensnared by the glamour and power that came upon it. She reveled in the luxuries provide for her, even while the kingdom was at war, and gloried in the power she wielded over her peers. She had become spoilt.

Jonathor could not understand how a child raised by his teacher, a just and honorable man could become so vile. She would torment others when she thought she would not be seen. She held no sympathy for those of a lower rank than her. Somehow, she had utter failed to learn all the virtues and qualities requires of her as Queen, but then somethings could not be learnt from books.

He could not make her his wife, but because of his respect for Robard he had still been willing to make her a Royal Consort. Since, she had refused his goodwill by herself he would not go out of his way to give her the cover of dignity.

It was late into the night when there was a soft knock on the door before it swung open. Jonathor looked up to see his Queen enter followed by a train of her ladies in waiting. They carried in trays of food and transformed the long table he normally used for meetings into a intimate dining setting for two. They curtsied to the King before quickly filling out leaving the couple alone.

Jonathor got up and went to her his face softening with every step closer to her. Her very presence brought him peace.

"My love, you pages tell me you haven't left this room since morning," she admonished taking his hands into her.

Her golden eyes were warm and gentle and bright. This woman had been through so much hardship yet she had become a caring person, where Elsbeth had lead safe and sheltered life yet she became so cruel. How could there be two people so different?

He rested his forehead against her and allowed himself to drown in her gaze.

"Charlotte."

"Hmm..." She looked just as enraptured as he was.

He wrapped an arm around her pressing her tight to his body and he could feel the steady beat of her heart against his chest. When he cradled her face she leaned into his touch placing a soft kiss into his palm.

"Charlotte."

"Yes."

Jonathor knew he held in his arms the most precious treasure in his realm.

'You must throw away your precious love...'

Jonathor defiantly kissed her.