Feasts and Banquets.
Just what Alexandra hated. As a princess, she had been able to act stupid and blunt. Now, that was impossible. Dignified Queenly behavior demanded the obliteration of awkwardness. And no, Alexandra wasn't awkward at all, she was just a bit clumsy.
Now, it more than half a year, and perhaps she'd done a hundred more mistakes. Received at least a hundred more unhurried explanations and enlightening from Liam. But currently, it was going much better.
For one thing, Alexandra had been a Princess. She had had her own taste of "The Royal Life", all she had to do, was bring back more of those memories. And she had discovered, to her benefit, that saying "no" was surprisingly easy once begun. Some things needed to be declined. She walked out of the Palace Gates and to the Council at her own whim, usually by three in the morning - not even giving Lady Debrille a chance to portray her skills.
Alexandra was pretty sure she was going to put an end to the "Weddings are a Family Matter" law. End the dictation that women above nineteen years could be married off, wish or no-wish. Her only fear was that people would rebel. Perhaps, if she only had some good news to give them- so that it could cushion the blow...
Certain things had changed, at the Council too. Watson and Diana being engaged. Fannel living in Akwanda - and only gracing them with a visit once a week. He had finally accepted Watson as a brother-in-law-to-be. That had taken a lot of hard work: Diana inventing and counting off the many qualities of Watson. Alexandra reminding him of the times Watson had - despite being a fool - saved the day. The whole Council singing his praises day and night.
But Mark Fannel hadn't budged.
Only after Liam had promised that he took responsibility of the marriage turning out a happy one, had Fannel given in a bit. Since then, as time passed and he saw the two together - he had to agree how maybe it was for the best.
All the same, Liam had warned Watson, 'Now that I've taken responsibility, I'll have to do away with you in case things do not turn out happy. No pressure though.'
Watson had nodded with a small grin, 'I get the threat under that. And believe me, I'm used to them. Still, none have felt so real and menacing.'
'And?' Liam had prompted.
'And, someday I said that you were just like every other King. Alexandra disagreed. Today, I disagree too.'
That's because he's got Cassandra's blood, I say. Mind had quipped up.
Blood is blood. Person is person. You just shut up, Mind. You are neither. Alexandra had replied, cheerfully.
In the Council, they were now focusing on the two giant kingdoms far down south-east.
Theronsia and Asmarsis.
Asmarsis had just got a new King. Vedessa had trade relations with both of them- and they were getting rather rich, amassing wealth and power. It was wise to send spies down there. But the countries were so, so far off. Down plateaus and mountain ranges... it was rather difficult to reach there. So their only information sources was the correspondence of the Vedessan merchants living in Theronsia.
They had to keep those traders happy if they wanted the correspondence to keep coming. That was what Alexandra did now. Writing long, gentle, tender, coaxing letters to those mysterious tradesmen. A few had gone ahead to settle down in those lands. They talked about how Theronsians and Asmarsians had their own language which they were trying to learn. The native people were rather good - because they tried their best to be hospitable and kind despite not being able to communicate.
* * *
One day, Evelyn, one of Mileva's assistants, had found Alexandra pinning up her cloak, putting up her knifes and strapping Moira down. The usual routine of getting ready to leave. Of course Alexandra had been leaving for the Council. But Evelyn, who didn't know of her adventures, had taken it otherwise. Entering the dressing room, she'd dropped the chest of ornaments and rushed over to her, wide-eyed.
'You are leaving, My Lady?!'
'Alexandra, please. And yes, of course I'm leaving.' Alexandra had replied, uninterested. What was there to drop a chest in that? She left everyday! And she would continue to do that. She had then stooped low to pin her boots.
'But why?!' Evelyn had demanded, looking stupefied.
'It's my wish.' Alexandra had replied, straightening up and rolling her sleeves, to push a knife in-between the creases.
'Fights happen in every couple! You can't leave for that!' Evelyn had protested. It was Alexandra's turn to be stupefied. After a second of it, she'd burst of laughing. Holding her stomach and doubling over. She had then explained as best as possible that she wasn't leaving because of anybody- especially not Liam.
It was only then, that Alexandra realized that even among Queens there was the culture of taking offense and rebelling. Wonderful, but useless. Since those Kings would simply get another, more compliant wife. As far as she was concerned, Alexandra wouldn't have such passive-aggressive ways. She would go ahead and give the offender a blow on the face.
* * *
And she was definitely getting better at the Banquets. More and more she discovered how much of flirting and boldness went into such events. People discussed anything under the Sun - from complaints to dreams and from mud houses to imposing mansions.
Liam smiled pleasantly at everybody, more or less he agreed with everybody too. But when they were gone, he dropped his perfect cover, made a face and rolled his eyes. Sometimes he muttered a not-very-pleasant comment in addition.
Alexandra surmised that was a good idea. You could antagonize a lot of people by not accepting their views. There were ideas everybody was sensitive about.
The one particular thing that made her wrinkle her nose, however was the amount of intoxicants present in those events. She was opposed to them as a spy - the first rule of spyhood was never being inebriated. Mostly, the drinks appeared towards the later parts. Those times when women not wanting to indulge in the messy business, were expected to leave. And then the wine-drinking and betting began. Basically those "manly" business Alexandra despised. Catching sight of the classy flasks full of red liquid, she gave Liam a burning look. He responded with an innocent, I don't get you. Be clearer look.
'You drink.' She hissed, not herself realizing that it was question or a statement. Not that it was a very big thing, after all. As far as she knew, Olivia loved expensive drinks. Austin definitely did. All of the royalty did. But somehow, she couldn't imagine Liam being... of all things... drunk.
'Of course I drink.' He agreed, 'I drink water. But as for wine, I am intolerant.'
Alexandra didn't understand what intolerant meant in this context. 'Don't play with words.' She warned, nevertheless. She didn't understand how he could bring himself to do it, after the fact that his father had killed his brother, inebriated. Alexandra couldn't digest the concept.
'For a person who wasn't able to form sentences till seven, word-play doesn't come easy.' Liam shrugged, 'But what I mean, is if I, by chance, take more than a few sips - by tomorrow morning you'll find my face full of blisters. And they are commendably painful. Though, you can certainly go ahead and take a sip. If they're appealing, that is.'
'No way.' Alexandra declared, this was a new bit of secret. As far as she knew, she herself didn't have any such "intolerance". Farms made her nose go itchy, if that counted... 'So, does everybody else know?' She asked.
'I'm a closed book.' Liam informed. 'And there are always ways to trick the unwary.'
Alexandra knew this "tricking the unwary" was an evil practice which included taking advantage of others' gullibility. But practically speaking, she enjoyed it herself. 'I'd love to see that trick.' She confessed. By that time, there were goblets in everybody's hands. Intense portrayals of sorrow and ecstasy were in process, a lot of secrets were tumbling out. Betting and gambling had already begun.
Liam conversed with uncanny eloquence. His counterparts were already bacchic. Alexandra watched, slightly wide-eyed, as he spoke. And when the person turned away, he took one sweeping look of the room. Once sure that nobody was watching, Liam turned down his own goblet the slightest bit down and poured its blood-red contents down the other one's chalice.
Then he smiled winningly, 'What do I see, Sir, you haven't taken a single sip!'
The bearded man looked confused for a second. Then he laughed, 'I did not even notice!' He boomed in reply, draining the cup in one go. Mileva, who claimed to know him so well, was not aware of this one - Alexandra could bet. It made her realize what utter stupidity it would be, to believe anything of that Attendant's. Making a mental note to ignore the owl-like woman from then on, she pushed her chestnut tresses behind, confidently - and stepped into the bursting crowds. Accepting compliments, and mild flirts, she - for the first time since her birth - ended up enjoying a banquet. What better example could be, to say that Change was the only thing constant!
But that was also when Alexandra realized how surviving as a noble-born too, was a challenge in itself. And living in a Palace? That required immense alertness and presence of mind at every turn. It required a thick skin, to endure the politics. It required eradication of clumsiness. Relentless improvement and astuteness.
Another challenge, wasn't this? Alexandra was only glad. She knew was made for challenges. And in the end, if she managed all of that, she could do a lot of good, too.