Royals

Queen of Royals Cont'd Part 1.2

The princess Colleen of Emberem was seventeen years of age. Too young. Lale himself was twenty six. He found the splendid, older women much more satisfying, like wine that tasted better with age. He was considerably young himself but beloved by the people, cold and strong and exactly what the Mairans respected. Their new queen was quiet, fleshy, and shivered pathetically against the harsh Mairan winter. The fact that many of his people bemoaned his nuptial chains was no secret.

It was not a surprise that Colleen was seen very little outside of her chambers. Not even Lale found it strange that she cached herself away. All the better, so that they didn't have her tripping around under their feet. Jeers and sarcastic remarks on her lack of ability to hunt or do anything helpful for the castle added on to the mountainous pile of prejudice already against her - a mountain taller than the snowy peaks of Mair. She only came out on occasion to frequent the kitchens, where she quietly took her meals and then retreated, escaping the snickers and disapproving snorts of the working people.

The king acknowledged the poison spoken against her and that was all. He felt no need to correct accurate descriptions of his useless queen.

But Lale did not officially meet his queen until he found her one midnight two months ago, tucked into his library. The king had an impressive collection of books. Lale prided himself as a well-rounded man, physically and intellectually capable. He was very welcome into the beds of any of the Mairan girls, could ride and wield two swords at once, and spoke the three languages of his kingdom and its two neighbours fluently. He was, though not many people knew this, a gifted musician with the Mairan lyre, a fierce opponent in any debate, and his country had yet to see such an amazingly diplomatic king. The library of such an ambitious man was filled to the brim with fascinating literature, completely open to any of the castle to peruse so long as the tomes were kept pristine.

However, he had been genuinely surprised to have stumbled upon her there, of all people. He had almost not recognized her, so differently was she dressed. On their wedding night she wore an Embremese gown of white lace and gold, her hair braided expertly and coiled with pearls. She had no servants brought from her home - Emberem sent her over with a few carriages with her things, more carriages with her dowry, and those same carriages hurried back to lush and low-elevated Embremese lands as soon as their princess was unpacked. Lale had been mildly impressed by her ability to dress herself well for the ceremony, though he had quickly forgotten such a trivial thing as her appearance. Their sex was done in his dim bedroom and he barely recalled her face from the firelight. He might as well as have met her for the first time.

She was curled in the deepest section of the library, seated right next to the fireplace that burned hot. She stoked the fire frequently, as if the chill could never again leave her bones. Lale walked into the library wondering who had stupidly left the fire on so late at night. Both of them had frozen when he stepped right into the room. The king had a presence that was undeniable. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a noble expression that made him look older than his years. His thick, straight black hair was woven often into warrior's braids, or left hanging to display its full health. The most uncanny thing about him were his naturally dark eyes whose copper-brown shade that was much more appropriately described as "red". These red eyes were a trait shared by all Mairan royalty, and it made his intense gaze all the more effective. It was as if the shadow of such a man was simply blacker than everyone else's, so easily did he blot out the light.

His queen also had black hair but the strands were much finer, ending in loose curls. Her eyes were a quiet gray-blue, not quite one or the other, and she had pleasant features on a heart-shaped face... Though, none of her features could parallel Lale's masculine magnetism. She was average height for a woman but something about her made her look smaller. Lale looked like a king; Colleen was just a girl. She looked more so like one when she wore such a thickly furred robe, drowning in its soft folds.