Slump

19 June, 1368. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten

Tobin seemed to fall into an irate slump in the days that followed his birthday celebrations. He was constantly morose, grumbling about boredom and no longer having anything to look forward to.

Celia had watched him trying to amuse himself for a few days with his mountain of new gifts. He even wore his ridiculous fur hat to dinner once or twice, much to her horrified delight. She'd spent those evenings biting her lips until they bruised, just to stop herself from laughing out loud. The sight of Tobin in decadent pearls and fur, in high summer no less, had made her want to howl.

But even the hat had been forgotten now. Like an overindulged child who'd discarded or broken all his toys and was now itching for a tantrum, Tobin was despondent.

And he was seemingly determined to impose his sour mood on anyone who happened to be nearby.

His behaviour reminded Celia of how young he actually was. He was little more than a child, yet nobody dared point that out to him.

In her opinion, there was something very wrong with everyone being too afraid to guide an immature youth just because they feared his authority. It should be the opposite, Celia would tell herself often. Tobin should be pushed to learn from his mistakes and moderate his impulses because of his great authority.

What kind of a king would he make otherwise? How could anyone rule wisely if he refused to acknowledge his mistakes, let alone strive to learn from them?

Did no one else in the palace look at Tobin and shudder with apprehension at the thought of the crown sitting on his head one day?

Apparently not.

Celia's opinion wasn't sought on the matter, or any other matter.

The only thing she could really do was keep her distance from her husband where possible. Surely he wasn't going to stay in such miserable spirits forever?

He wasn't exactly easy to avoid, however. Apart from having to submit to him regularly at night, Celia suspected he enjoyed using her as a target to vent his frustration about things large and small.

She couldn't just ignore him. A wife was expected to obediently listen. So she was quickly becoming an expert at blocking out his words, while still nodding at the right intervals so that she appeared engaged.

And unless he was especially rough or clumsy, she was able to just lie there while he took her body, letting her mind escape to a place where she was free of him.

Her soul screamed day and night for freedom.

- - -

It was another hot, muggy day. Celia was flipping listlessly through a book of ballads when she heard a knock at her presence chamber doors.

Emery and Zoe, two of her ladies-in-waiting, briefly paused their stream of conversation but made no effort to move towards the doors. They soon started chattering again.

Celia sighed. She'd been issued two of the laziest girls in the kingdom to wait upon her. There was no use in complaining, though. Both girls were part of prominent noble families and had been handpicked for her by Queen Maura herself.

Clicking her tongue at the two other ladies, Sabine flashed Celia a sweet smile and rose to open the door herself.

"Thank you, my friend." Celia said quietly as she closed the book in her lap.

A moment later, she saw an oddly dressed man standing in the doorway with Sabine. Was she supposed to know who he was?

Celia approached the door while assessing the man's appearance. Instead of the embroidered tunics and trousers worn by the local noblemen, he was dressed in exotic looking brocade robes. His hair was cropped short but his greying beard was long and deliberately curled.

"How may I help you?" Celia asked.

The man immediately bowed and spoke in a guttural accent. "My apologies for disturbing you, Your Highness. I am Lord Constantine Da'ar, Ambassador of Irquis."

Celia nodded, still confused.

"I merely wish to confirm that our humble gift found favour with His Highness?" the ambassador asked patiently.

"I don't…I'm afraid I don't understand."

"The gift I presented to Prince Tobin on his birthday, on behalf of my kingdom."

"I see." Celia said faintly, trying to rack her memory for what she'd seen at the birthday celebrations. There had been dozens of gifts unwrapped - was she supposed to know which one had been from Irquis?

She was fairly sure Tobin wouldn't remember and wouldn't really care either.

"And that gift was…?" she had to ask, not daring to guess.

"The decorative sword in the bejewelled scabbard, Your Highness." Ambassador Da'ar replied, sounding more irked than patient now. His eyes flashed with offence, clearly insulted that Celia was showing no signs of remembering.

She gave him her most charming smile. "Ah of course, Lord Da'ar. Forgive me for forgetting for a moment, who the sender of such a gift was. But the sword itself is unforgettable. My husband told me that he's never seen such exquisite metalwork and I have to agree."

The ice in the ambassador's eyes started to thaw slightly.

"Please convey thanks on my husband's behalf to your craftsmen. You may tell them the prince is extremely pleased with his new sword."

Lord Da'ar's face fell again. "Well, ah…we were actually expecting to hear that directly from His Highness. It's a longstanding custom when gifts pass between royal houses, for letters of thanks to be issued. For the sake of diplomatic harmony, of course."

"Of course." Celia parroted. She knew Tobin had no intention of scribbling even short notes. Looking at the ambassador's stony expression, she knew he wouldn't forgive his ruler's generosity being slighted. He'd probably happily let his king know that the Haviettenese were an ungrateful people.

What if Tobin's lazy refusal to follow protocol resulted not just in the King of Irquis taking offence, but several other kings as well?

"I'll ensure my husband's written thanks are with you to pass on to your king, without delay." she said and she meant it. She was going to needle Tobin until he did his duty.

She was his wife and helpmate. It was up to her to help steer her frivolous young husband away from indolence and towards growing into a better man, wasn't it? And that's what she was determined to do.