A Fickle Crown, A Golden Chair and Knights

[Pbyer]

[Jewel]

There was something to be said about the majesty of the Drakon throne room. Out of the many rooms of the castle, it was perhaps the most lavishly decorated. Angels and demons painted alongside opposing walls, a large chandelier, made both from glass and crystal hung high above the center of the room, and there was the golden chair, which of course belonged to the King at the end of the long hallway like room.

Strangely, Lancelot, the current King of Drakon, was hardly ever seated in the golden chair. He was accustomed to pacing up and down the room, all the while staring at the rapidly changing carvings which were imbued into the stone-like columns which served as the foundation of the room itself. These carvings weren't anything particular, but he often found himself staring at one, when taking a pause from his pacing.

Excess energy, like his father before him, Lancelot had it. His father spent it on whores. He spent it on training, and constant pacing. Although, his mind was considerably more active as he paced. It helped him to think. It calmed him in times of rage and confusion. Now, at the current time he was neither. Actually, he was worried about his youngest sibling: the princess of Drakon. Lately, she had been distant, and the rumors about her rebellious nature and her kindness towards the lower classes of Drakon irked him.

Earlier, in fact only a few minutes prior, Lancelot had ordered a couple of the castle guards to fetch his sister for him. They asked him where she would most likely be, and honestly he couldn't give them a proper answer. He had always treated his sister rather horribly, and they weren't very close because of it. The best he could offer was her private chambers, but as it happened it was also the middle of the day. By now, she was up and about and could be anywhere on the castle grounds.

[Jewel]

ROLLED UP IN COLOURFUL CARPETS

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YOUR BLOOD IS RUSHING, GIRL LOOK ALL AROUND YOU.[/size][/center]

The young Princess had in fact planned to leave for Alevale considerably early that morning but had been delayed by the overlong fussing of her servants, forced to wait until they were appeased before sending them off and then ensuring they would not come calling on her for another few hours. By the time she had packed away her things it was long past the hour she had originally intended to make her departure. And hurried footsteps outside in the corridor had her stashing her belongings quickly away, acknowledging – with a flash of irritation – that her trip was about to be postponed even further.

Opening the door after a chorus of frantic knocking, Melisande greeted her brother’s guards with as much nonchalance as she could muster and agreed to follow them obediently to the throne room. It didn’t take very long, mostly because she forced herself to walk briskly in the hopes that this conversation would be a brief one. It was likely he merely wanted to discuss her outings with the commoners again … something they bickered about frequently but never managed to resolve.

Led through a sprawling hallway, its walls adorned with richly-woven tapestries bearing Drakon’s official crest, Melisande couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. This uneasiness became increasingly stronger the closer she came to her brother’s whereabouts. Had he somehow been informed of her intentions to infiltrate Alevale in secret? Had he anticipated her plan from the beginning and implored her servants to keep a closer eye on her than usual? That would explain the extra attention to detail while helping her dress and prepare for the day. But she couldn’t allow that to dissolve her composure. If he sensed at all that she was up to something, he wouldn’t allow her without some kind of supervision for the remainder of the week.

Finally they arrived, the guards opting to remain just outside for the sake of the siblings’ privacy.

Left alone to stare sombrely at her eldest brother, Melisande managed a respectful curtsy and clasped her hands together. Managing to retain her calm expression and semi-casual posture, the Princess decided to speak first.

“Your Highness has summoned me and I have come. Is there some specific issue you’d like to discuss today, dear brother?”

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[Pbyer]

When his sister entered the room, Lancelot was facing in the opposite direction. He seemed to be staring at the golden chair, located at the very edge of the room. He had long since stopped his pacing, although simply observation would note that the velvet carpet that the princess now stood upon had been worn in significantly. Its seams were ruffled, and there were obviously light prints from the black-tipped boots upon his feet.

Upon her curtsy, and her voice, the King of Drakon turned, rather abruptly in fact. His cool-mannered eyes swept over her quickly, and held no hints of his intentions at all. However, it is important to note his arms were folded tightly across his chest obscuring the black and purple cloak that he presently wore. Imprinted in the center of this cloak was their family crest, as she would recognize. Upon his face was a stern look of disapproval, but he was far from rage. At his side of course, was his father's sword; something that never left his side.

"In your room at this hour sister? Usually you see fit to leave much earlier, or did something slow your progress today?" The king spoke hastily, for this was not his point in summoning her; however his curiosity was blatantly obvious, and he did not try to hide it. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, taking a few steps closer to her, but stopping short, as it were.

"I would think you could already guess as to why I called you, but if you really need me to spell it out, I won't delay as such." Now moving beyond such trivialities, he gestured briefly to her and shook his head. "Though honorable your intentions may be, your presence amongst the common-wealth of our kingdom is seeing to cause only more instability. With such a varying noble family, how can I be expected to make authoritative decisions with my younger sister undercutting me in front of the masses?" He turned from her at this point, allowing her the breath to speak. Strangely, his tone bore no anger, it was plain; simple.

[Jewel]

ROLLED UP IN COLOURFUL CARPETS

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YOUR BLOOD IS RUSHING, GIRL LOOK ALL AROUND YOU.[/size][/center]

Melisande had grown accustomed to her brother’s gruff manner over the years and therefore did not flinch at the bitter inflection of his voice as he addressed her. She could tell he wasn’t angry, only disappointed, and so she allowed herself to relax. Relieved that he didn’t seem overly suspicious about her long and slow progression that morning, the Princess did not bother answering his first question and instead focused her attention upon the main reason he had summoned her. It was generally the same argument they had every few weeks, though some of it varied in response to the sort of mood he was in. Hopefully it would not last long, as she had important matters to attend to on a very strict deadline.

”We have discussed this several times already,” she started and mimicked his posture, folding her arms and levelling him with a sombre expression. “The time you waste lecturing me could be put to better use addressing the issues this Kingdom is currently facing. Why can’t you realize that? Or perhaps you have yet to settle comfortably into the role that is an effective leader.” She paused, allowing the subtle accusation to sink in before continuing. “A King with good initiative would immediately prioritize and produce results as soon as possible. Yet you’ve been King for quite some time and little to no change has occurred. In turn, Drakon has started to deteriorate. Our people have no ambition and their efforts have gone unrewarded for a long time. They work hard under difficult conditions. How can you expect them to build and maintain the foundation of this Kingdom without the proper tools and encouragement?”

Ranting was hardly ladylike, and yet her brother’s nonchalance was highly irritating.

“I have done nothing to discredit you, Lancelot. My intentions are very simply to remind the common people that we have not forgotten them or their valiant efforts. The concept of a revolt at this point is not unreasonable. They are large in number and if they come to realize that they could very well take control of their future … that they could flourish without us, well. You can only imagine the havoc they might cause out of desperation." She paused, moving several steps forward and taking his hands in an affectionate gesture. "We need to keep order and balance. Not by force, but by compromise. There are other ways in which to assert authority and control, my King.”

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[Pbyer]

Despite his sister's rapidly diminishing and insulting tone, he allowed her to continue until the end of her rant. He had long since learned such trivialities about his family members, and he knew for a fact that it was hardly worth his time to interrupt her when she got like this. As such he turned back to face her and nodded occasionally as she spoke, to show her he was at least listening to her. His arms however, had not shifted and were still folded tightly across his chest. And his eyes gleamed with a growing anger.

When she finally did finish however, all anger that had been present in his eyes had disappeared, and was instead replaced by somewhat of a sympathetic gaze. It was mainly due to her own gesture however; he hadn't expected her to take his hands. Such a gaze was out of character for him, and his sister would surely notice that, if she had the time to observe such inconsequential matters.

He did sigh though, taking in a great amount of air before replying to his rather flustered sister. Although they argued, it wasn't his place to make her like this and he knew it. How his brothers would disapprove of his treatment of her at times like this. Sometime he wished he wasn't king; but this was not one of those times.

"I do not wish to cause the people of this kingdom pain, but it is my duty to ensure the preservation of Drakon." He shook his head. The tension in the room that had been so prevalent in the past few minutes was instantly cut in half by the gesture. "Sometimes a few must be scarified to protect the loyal. First and foremost I worry for the security of Drakon. We are weak while Alevale is increasing its armies and prospering. I know this and as such if a few of the common-wealth must be treated harshly to build up our military, I will gladly allow it.

Suddenly he looked down, as if he was unsure of himself. This however, only lasted a second or so and then he met her eyes again. His gaze almost seemed softer now, and was such reflected in his speech: "Melisande, all I ask is you don't do anything foolish. As you say, we are in ruins right now, nearly ashes. We cannot be plunged any further in the void." He sighed. "I understand your feelings, but you have to put those aside."