Elinora the Great

Special 3 (Part 3): Alfred

Alfred

"General Blaxton."

"Lady Somerset."

I inclined my head in acknowledgement as Charlotte curtsied. Charlotte. How long has it been since I'd called her that? And since when did 'Alfred' disappear from her lexis? I do not know, but some days- days like today whereby I called upon Elinora, I missed the ease we had around each other as children. Despite having no tenure to her name, her title as the Queen's Lady-in-Waiting was not to be dismissed and having her on-side was important for my future path as Prince Consort. These days, however, Charlotte regarded me with barely-contained disapproval and a cold aloofness that I would never have associated with the brazen yet crafty Charlotte of our childhoods.

I brushed past her, and just as my hands reached out to push open the sandalwood doors of Elinora's private study, they were blocked by Charlotte extending one arm before me. "General Blaxton. May I politely suggest that you return to your suite within the castle. Or," a mocking twist of her lips "better yet, return to your rightful residence with the Duke of Kent."

I didn't so much as blink at her comment. She was one of many within the nobility to voice her displeasure at Elinora's outward favouring of me. In the past year since Elinora's coronation, I would frequently accompany Elinora in her daily routine- bruncheons and candlelit suppers, strolls in the courtyard, archery practice and horseback riding, and when Elinora dealt with State affairs, I would often wait in the adjacent room- practicing military strategy using the sand-bench or drilling with the Seventh Division in the training grounds. It had gone on like this for months, until Elinora had surprised me one day by presenting me with the keys to a suite within the Southern Wing that overlooked the Training Grounds. The families of the Court, already displeased with the frequency of my calls, had went into uproar at the news, pleading to the Queen that this was a breach of protocol and appealed for the reversion of her decision. I had sneered in disdain as the old-bloods within Court had fallen upon their knees with their beautiful speeches of protecting the Queen's honour. It was as obvious as day that their concern was really over the implication of the Queen's actions- amongst the nobility of Great Britain, there were many a family with sons of marriageable age, and of course no position could outrank that of Prince Consort- of King. The Queen's honour? Why not be forthright and admit that they were protecting their own gains? Father was deliriously pleased with me- branding a heavy arm across my shoulders as we left Court that morning, still adrift amidst the echoes of the Queen's response "my personal affairs will be decided by the Heavenly Lord, then by myself and no other." Personal affairs, the Heavenly Lord. Elinora had all but said that I was the one she would propose marriage to. I'd nearly lost my footing that day when I came to that realisation, and found myself, for the first time in my life, filled with a shy yet giddy anticipation of the future. We will be married, dearest Elinora- I will stand by you as King and we will love each other.

That silent oath was my shield from the flurries of jealousy and contempt I received from the members of Court- poorly masked under the veneer of respect and felicitations, of course. Hence, Charlotte's words barely registered with me before I dismissed them, and sidestepping her with great ease, I marched into Elinora's study- eager to see her after she'd been away for two weeks on her diplomacy trip to Sweden.

I found the corners of my lips rising subconsciously as I laid eyes on her for the first time in a fortnight, and realised with a jarring pang how much I had missed her presence in the past days. Something flashed across those amber orbs, a flicker of hesitation before she rose to meet me, but I easily dismissed that amidst my own feelings of fulfillment at seeing her. "Your Majesty," I murmured, bowing before her and only straightening when Elinora had rounded her desk and offered me her palm in which I placed a kiss in.

"Alfred. You look well," she said

"My Queen is back. How can I not be well?"

Another flash of... uncertainty? Guilt? before she turned away and pulled me towards the large bay windows of her room. A corner of something gold sparkled on her desk, piquing my interest, but I followed her, sitting adjacent to her on the chaise overlooking the gardens and began to describe to her the happenings of Court whilst she had been away.

We had afternoon tea together before she left to attend a meeting with various members of her Council. As I stood to leave after her, the glint of gold caught my eye once more, and I reached towards a small gold-embossed card buried underneath a few pieces of parchment. Elinora had been practicing her calligraphy as of late, joking that her advisors were going to suffer from distorted vision if she was to impart them with her unpleasant scrawl for any longer. The card contained only one word, and I felt my brows tighten at the sight- in both confusion and a certain sense of apprehension. I tried to brush off the strange sensation arising in me as I placed the card back to its previous place and left the room, but the word continued to plague me for the rest of the day before I finally managed to convince myself that Elinora's choice of words to practice was only random. I was heir to a dukedom in my own right, revered militarist, and Elinora and I had grown up together. I was her favourite. She will choose me as Consort. The placard meant nothing. The singular word Henry meant nothing...

AN I really enjoyed writing from Alfred's perspective. So? What did you guys think? Vote, comment or follow :-)