Meetings and Trauma

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Imperfection is perfection to a beautiful perspective.
- Anonymous

The lake was a severe blessing.

Alexandra still had two years left to complete at the Council. And so, certain things had been planned out through letters. And keeping that in mind - all her meetings with Liam were at night.

Not everyday. How could that be possible?!

Just every night.

Without fail. Somehow, at eleven thirty - he was there by the lake. No crown, no ornaments, no expensive, excess and flashy clothing. In fact, King Liam was not even present. It was only Liam. 'Everybody has the same twenty four hours.' He explained, briskly, 'just depends where you fall on their priority list.'

And that was the way Alexandra liked him best. As far as she was concerned, he looked totally captivating in anything he chose to wear. And his molten gold like eyes were better than any ornaments. If the question was of a crown - wisdom filled that space better than any assortment of gems and metal.

The lake was a severe blessing because somehow, it became the place they began sitting by. The Moon reflected into its water, surrounded by fireflies and with nobody to disturb. Though Alexandra was pretty sure she could not rule out being eavesdropped on, with all those spies around. Then again, she could count upon those spies' conscience to not do it. There would be a lot to listen to, in any case, because somehow, they were never at a loss for what to talk of. From odd, funny moments to guilty pleasures: things just kept rolling on and on.

Alexandra had extended the curfew timings. No longer were they from eleven to three. They were now from ten to three. Fannel wanted to know why, so she'd told him.

'A ghost haunts the Council from eleven thirty to two.'

'Are you serious?' He had yawned, 'Did somebody smack you round the head?' He had then inquired, looking genuinely concerned. A huge stack of correspondence letters had been in his hands and as he had been on his way to burn them up.

Alexandra had only grinned, 'No I've neither been hit nor lost my mind. And yes I'm serious. He does.' She had nodded, grimly.

'Okay, and what's the name of this ghost?' He had demanded, 'Since you seem to know him well.'

'It's Liam.'

Fannel had dropped the pile of correspondence he'd been carrying. Stepping over them, he had leaned towards Alexandra, 'You are not kidding?'

'No,' Alexandra had given him a sly grin. 'Keep it in your stomach. Tell Kane and Watson at most. Not even Diana - or she'll be clamoring for a duel. And we both know, it won't be pleasant to watch her lose.' She had added.

'And she won't accept defeat either.' Fannel had nodded in agreement, bending down to collect the letters again.

And so, there were only three secret-keepers in the whole Council. Kane announced "six hundred sit-ups for anybody who's seen out of bounds". And while this ensured none of the in-training ones trespassed, the full-time members could still do so. Not that Alexandra cared too much.

They always began with the game.

Three Honest Answers.

As the name implied - they could ask ANY question to the other person- about their life, future plans, even previous attractions. Answers had to be honest. They had both sworn it on the very first day.

'So tell me one thing,' Alexandra began, a few months after those meetings had become a routine, 'why didn't you marry till now? And - and no "honest" cheesy replies like "I was waiting for you". Look at yourself - Olivia fell for you! Kings have five - ten wives. And you're sitting here a bachelor. Look, stop going pale - and answer me.'

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