Experience Interrupted
"Felicie," Manon greeted just as eagerly as she had at the ball the day before yesterday, but with much more warmth and genuine affection. There was no crowd to play to as the only other people in the room were Cy and Jacques who were shaking hands more formally beside them.
They hadn't been able to meet yesterday, since Felicie and Cy were still recovering from the ball – they had been amongst the last to leave - while Manon and Jacques had a great deal of work to do. So, instead, they were meeting today.
"You look like trash, Manon," Felicie laughed, holding her at arm's length.
"I can't wear a ballgown every day," she responded coolly, laughing herself.
"Says who?" Felicie cocked a brow, putting a hand on her hip as she posed. "And just because you're not wearing a ballgown doesn't mean you can't look your best. Behold! Set your eyes on my glory and weep. And be inspired to improve your wardrobe."
Manon looked at Felicie's flashy, sunburst colored half dress and couldn't deny that, though the outfit was clearly casual, it was also beautiful.
"Being a queen is more than signing matters of state and holding fancy parties. I thought I taught you better than that," Felicie sighed, only a bit dramatically. "You have to be a queen and, to that end, you have to look like a queen. Shallow though it may seem, people do in fact judge by looks first and, since you won't meet most of them, that could be the only way they judge you."
"I mean, yeah," Manon looked down at her plain gown with the large, poofy sleeves. "But I need to hide my daggers."
"Then tell your seamstress to make sure the daggers can't be seen."
"They're supposed to be secret daggers, Felicie. Hard for them to be secret when my seamstress and her entire team know about them."
"That's where you're short sighted," Felicie poked her forehead, pushing her back. "You pick a seamstress just for you. Someone dedicated to your fashion only. They learn your likes, your dislikes, your preferences for cut and style, they know your measurements perfectly off the top of their head. And since they're yours and only yours, they are completely dependent upon you for their living. Pay them well, treat them better, they'll be loyal for life and they'll guard your secrets closer than they guard their own."
Manon looked thoughtful. Felicie just nudged her.
"Trust me. I've been doing this a long time and my seamstress is one of my greatest sources of gossip, but I give her so much good business, she never tells a soul anything. As queen, your wardrobe needs to be so varied and impressive, you can have one all to yourself."
"I'll think about it," Manon nodded, admitting that it might be a good idea. "But that's not really what we're here to talk about."
She looked over to Cy and Jacques, both men were grinning at them. Cy was looking a little less ostentatious today, but he was still dripping in gold and jewels.
"It's good to see you, your majesty," he said, his words formal but his expression playfully affectionate as he bowed just slightly.
"Hello, Cy," she greeted with a smile. "You don't have to bow to me, you know that."
He stood straight. "Of course not. But this is a momentous thing. I'm proud of you. I knew when I met you before that you were going to do great things. And you, Jacques! Getting yourself such an impressive wife. You're a very lucky man."
"I'm well aware," Jacques said, looking directly at her, his eyes shining with approval, sending a wave of warmth over her body.
"That's part of what I want to talk to you about though," Cy said, turning from them to lead everyone further into the drawing room they had chosen for this meeting. "My queen sends her apologies for sending me so late, but she did have a reason."
"She was worried about our hold on to the power structure here," Jacques said easily, falling into step with Manon. The ladies sat onto the couches before their men sat beside them. "I can't say I don't understand her reticence."
"I would hardly call this a peaceful transfer of power," Cy agreed, his tone a bit grave. So different from his normal tone. "Technically, the law is on your side and neither of you did anything wrong. You're doing everything right. But Gascony is a very traditional country and the changes you're trying to bring are so different. We've heard about the unrest even in Lloegyr."
"It sounds worse than it is," Manon said, sighing. "The protesters are loud, but they don't even represent the majority of the people."
"That's hardly the point when they're beating at your gates. And we heard that Firmin got away. A high ranking military man like that might have very well been able to steal the loyalty of the military away from you. If you lose the populace and the military, you might as well kiss your life goodbye. You won't be able to retain your power."
Jacques grinned. "I'm well aware. And it's a good thing that General Emile is in charge. His loyalty to Manon is sworn and proven. He keeps the military in line."
"Oh, Emile!" Felicie perked up, clapping her hands together. "I'm so happy for him."
"That is good news," Cy nodded along. "I didn't realize you had such a trustworthy replacement for Firmin. Eleonore will rest easier, knowing that is the case."
"We're also taking steps to expand the military," Manon continued. "To include more of our own people. Loyalists we know are devoted to our cause and goals. The recruitment drive has already begun and the numbers look promising."
"My people are loyal and strong," Jacques said, pride filling his voice. "They are willing to fight for me, even if it is only a counter to the protesters. They will make good soldiers and city guard and their numbers will strengthen us."
"Even more good news," Cy nodded in approval. "I can't lie, I was a bit concerned when I heard your plan of taking over here. You two are both so young, and Manon you are considered an enemy of the country. I didn't know how well this would go. And I know that Eleonore shared my concerns. That's why she wanted to wait."
"I hope we've proven our competency thus far then."
"Your competency yes, but she is still concerned." He held up a hand to block of the words Manon was about to speak. "She has faith you will be a good queen, Manon. She still remembers you from your last visit. Her worry was originally about the stability of your reign. Now, she's worried about you still not being pregnant, Manon."
The seeming suddenness of the change in topic made her start in surprise. "What?'
Cy fixed her with a serious stare. "Don't act surprised. One of the most important duties you two have is to produce an heir. Yet, here we are, months into your marriage, and no whisper of a pregnancy. Are you having issues conceiving, Manon? Have you not seen a physician?"
Jacques cleared his throat awkwardly. "We're well aware of what we need to do, Cy. It's just a bit more difficult in practice."
"Oh, are you the problem?" Cy turned his attention to him. "If you can't be aroused by Manon, do whatever you need to in order to become so. Turn her around, imagine someone else, bring in someone else to get you excited if you have to."
"Cy!" Manon's face burned at his complete lack of propriety. She didn't consider herself a prude, but to just say such things outright...
"This is serious," he said, staring between them, no trace of a grin on his face. "Manon, you hold the right to rule, and Jacques you hold the people's loyalty. Your marriage is not one of choice or desire. I'm not going to pretend that it is. But you do have this duty to complete and you have to complete it sooner rather than later. An heir will secure your power like nothing else will. The more of them, the better, in fact. Whatever you have to do, Jacques, I don't care if you have to bring in another man, get your soldier marching and shooting. That's the main thing Eleonore was waiting for and when it didn't happen, I had to convince her to let me come anyway."
Jacques and Manon shared a look. An incredulous gaze meeting uneasy one.
For some reason, hearing Cy accuse Jacques of not being attracted to her rose a whole list of insecurities she didn't have before. Was that the real reason he had been waiting? He was having to force his attraction?
Jacques frowned. "Manon, get those thoughts from your head right now."
"I didn't say anything!"
"No, but I see you thinking them." His brows furrowed seriously. "Those are foolish thoughts and you will stop them this instant. They are ridiculous."
Cy interjected, blunt as ever, "If you are attracted to your wife, then there is no issue. What are the two of you waiting for?"
"Time," Jacques returned, equally blunt, notably unhappy that Cy had managed to put bad thoughts into Manon's head. "We're so busy most days, we don't have time to sleep, much less make heirs. We were also practically strangers when we married. I'm not going to force my wife to lay beneath me, no matter how willing, when she is clearly uncomfortable. What arousal am I expected to maintain, much less find, if I'm simply rutting over her like a beast with no concern for her?"
Manon was pretty sure her face would catch fire if it got any hotter. Jacques' words were both comforting and highly embarrassing at the same time. She hadn't thought he would leap to her defense like that. It was sweet, in a weird way.
Cy nodded as though what Jacques was saying made sense. "I'm not saying I don't approve, I'm saying maybe find five minutes and a broom closet and make the heir. It doesn't have to be a momentous occasion."
"Cy, really," Felicie put her hand over his, laughing. "You're going to give Manon a heart attack. And their first time together shouldn't be rushed and unsatisfying. At least save that for the second time."
Cy frowned. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make your marriage uncomfortable or to take the joy out of making your heirs, but it is an important thing and it needs to be done. The sooner your power is assured, the sooner everyone will be able to relax. And that includes the people within your kingdom as well, not just my cousin."
Jacques nodded once. "Your advice is heard and, crude though it may be, appreciated. Can we now focus on the actual formal business of our meeting?"
"Let's. The sooner we do that, the sooner I can get started seeing all Ambraude has to offer." Some of his seriousness slipped away as he gave them a smile. "It's a beautiful city. I can't wait to see the kind of trouble Felicie and I can make."
"No trouble, please," Manon begged. "People are going to be unnerved by Felicie enough already just because she's a paladin."
"All the more reason, darling," Felicie said in her exaggerated voice, tossing back her hair. "There is no one better at becoming derided and mocked than myself. By the time I leave, people will be wondering why they ever feared paladins in the first place and why they ever thought you were an unacceptable example of our great country. Trust me."
Felicie winked at her. Manon and Jacques shared another look. She honestly wasn't sure if she was supposed to be relieved or more worried.
~~~~~~
"Felicie and Cy are hosting another party in the gardens," Jacques said by way of greeting as he stepped into their office.
Manon nearly dropped her quill, drops of ink splashing messily against her parchment. "Again? They just hosted one this morning."
"That was breakfast. This is the luncheon party," he informed her in a voice eerily similar to Cy's exaggerated way of speaking.
"How are they this popular already?" Manon asked, pushing aside the now useless letter. She was trying to invite her seamstress to be her personal stylist as Felicie suggested. After a couple days thinking on it, she decided that it was a good idea after all.
Jacques shrugged as he sat at his own desk. "I think it was the lure of the unknown originally. And also Cy's connections to Lloegyr. But now, people just keep being drawn back to them. I'm really not sure how they do it."
"Does it bother you that there are constantly garden parties being thrown in our palace and we're never invited to them?" She asked, twirling her quill lazily in the air.
"I was at first, then I realized that I have neither the time nor the inclination to sit around listening to Cy and Felicie absolutely adore our Ambraude fashions."
Manon snickered at the transition, once again, into Cy's voice. "You do that rather well."
He grinned at her as he pulled a stack of reports towards himself.
Manon watched him silently for a moment. "So, are we going to talk about it?"
"About what?"
"The maid last night that was caught trying to slip venomous spiders into my bed?"
Jacques stilled, his entire body tensing. He said nothing for a long moment. She just continued to stare at him. Waiting.
Finally, he sighed. "How did you hear?"
"I'm not revealing my sources."
"It had to be one of your lady's maids."
"Regardless of who it was, were you going to tell me?"
Jacques lowered the reports. "It wasn't in my immediate plans, no."
Manon sighed, setting her quill back in its stand. "While I respect the honesty now, Jacques, you can't keep potential assassinations quiet."
"It was one time-"
"That maid who was caught with a knife and a note?"
"Two times."
"If you think I believe that, you must think I'm a fool." She stood, crossing the room to him. "Jacques, I appreciate that you're trying to protect me. I even understand what you're doing. You don't want me to worry or feel unsafe, but I need to know these things."
"I handled it, Manon."
"No, I really don't think you did." She leaned her hips against his desk, crossing her arms. "That's two different maids with two different, admittedly lazy and inelegant, methods of assassination. And that's after we spent all that time going through our entire staff, trying to root out who might be a danger to us."
"So we missed a couple."
"We both know it was more than two," she fixed him with a look. "Jacques, this can't continue. This is a bigger problem. We need to work together to solve it."
He gritted his teeth, reaching out but stopping just short of actually touching her. "You're right, and I know you're right, it just... It goes against everything I've ever been taught as a gentleman and a man to make my wife uneasy."
Manon scoffed. "I am not uneasy, Jacques. They were lazy attempts. I can fight off a single maid with a stolen kitchen knife and the spiders would have been seen immediately by Adilla when she went to pull back my blankets for me."
"But the next one might not be lazy."
"All the more reason I need to be prepared for it." She reached out, stroking his cheek, smiling. "I like that you're trying to protect me. Really, I do. It tells me that you value me. Now show that you trust me by not hiding such things from me anymore."
He sighed before nodding, nuzzling her hand. "You are right. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." She released him, stepping back. "I appreciate the thought. Now, let's get back to work. Saladin is coming by the city soon. I just got a letter."
Jacques perked up, curious. "Saladin, what's he coming for?"
"To start the long process of rooting out the corrupted priests outside of Isaie," Manon smirked, looking back at him. "I dare say, we picked a fine Sacellum Master."
"So it appears," He chuckled, bringing his reports back to his face.
The two of them fell mostly silent as they got back to work. It was easy and comfortable and, though they would occasionally ask for input from the other, mostly, they kept to themselves and their various projects and responsibilities.
Jacques had taken over the military overhaul. He had the lists of the new recruits, the design choices for the new uniforms, the reports on Emilien regarding anyone who was being demoted for being nothing more than a fighting machine with no head for tactics, and many other things.
To Manon's surprise, the change in advancement decisions was actually the least protested. The men who enjoyed fighting and being directly in the action preferred not to be put higher in rank. It wasn't where their talents lay and knowing they were being forced upwards because of their greater skill was a detriment. Meanwhile, lesser skilled individuals, especially older ones, but with more experience and intelligence, were being promoted where they couldn't before and it was creating good feelings all around.
It was really the uniform change most people were angry about. Their patriotism was based heavily around their uniform. Having it changed seemed like a slap in the face to some. While the new recruits who were proud to wear the purple didn't mind it, the soldiers that were more loyal to country than royalty were taking loud issue with it.
Bringing a woman into the mix would have just made extra trouble, so Jacques was doing all of that himself.
Though Manon had allowed for women to sign up in the recruitment, thus far, no one had. She wasn't surprised or even disappointed. She has just wanted the option to be available, and it was. If no one reached out, that was fine.
If a woman did sign up, then she would immediately be sent to Manon's desk for training and position appointment. However, until then, Jacques was in charge of everything military related.
She had her own hands busy working on the trade agreements with Cy for Lloegyr as well as the trade agreements with Lea for Vasconia. Though the lady paladin had followed her husband Emilien into Isaie to assist with his task there, she was primarily in Gascony as an ambassador representing the Vasconian government.
Since the king was Manon's brother and everyone there was her family, it wasn't so much of a negotiation as it was a formality. They wanted everything in writing and official, not for them, but for the ease of mind of the people.
They wanted to reopen trade with Gascony, and not just at Gy-Hamelin, where they had done all of their trading before. They also wanted to re-open South Gate and Antonin Pass. She was also crafting a letter to her brother to ask about Petrus Landebert.
The stone city in a valley hidden in the barrier mountains had been an important one. One built on friendship between the two kingdoms. A relationship that was older than Vasconia itself. But it was also a phantom city, an abandoned city. The site of King Robert's death and the birth of all the madness and strife that had led them here.
She wanted to restore it. To repopulate it. To bring life back to a city that had known nothing but death and misery since her uncle's passing. Now that Lady Paladin Laudine was no longer trapped there, a prisoner to a madness that wasn't hers, it was safe and calm. The air was noticeably lighter. Manon wanted to return it to its former glory.
And she wanted a place where she and her family, including her family across the mountains, could come together in love once more. She didn't plan to never see her bother again. There was already a chance she would never see her father again since his self-imposed exile was being upheld to keep his presence from darkening their attempt at reconciliation. And in an effort to protect Sabine from Firmin, she couldn't even write to her father lest the former general deduce where her aunt was hidden now. She wasn't going to let her relationship with Erec be reduced to nothing as well.
And that started, she believed, at the beginning of all this.
With the letter written, dried, sealed, and set aside for sending, she turned her attention next to the welcome for their new Sacellum Master. It needed to be glorious as befitting his title, but humble as befitting the new role they wanted that title to play.
And it also had to be a warning. Jacques and Manon's efforts in Isaie had long spread by this point and they wanted to make it clear that those efforts were succeeding. Let the priests try to hide if they wished, they would find them. But more importantly, let them reform if they could. Let this be a warning that it wasn't too late to change their ways.
Jacques got up and left the room before her. He had to go see to some matters in person. She was going over reports about the tax collection – which was down this year in an attempt to let people heal from the war – and the state of the treasury.
Boring but necessary work.
Manon got lost in her task for the next few hours until even her candle burned out and she was cast into darkness she hadn't even realized had fallen. She didn't remember lighting the candle either. It had probably been faster than getting up and turning on the gas lamps.
She yawned, rubbing at her face as exhaustion settled heavily over her the moment she sat back and let herself feel it. She wasn't trying to fall asleep, but she let her eyes rest for just a minute as she gathered the energy to stand and walk back to her room. She didn't even want to check the clock because she knew, based on the silence around her, that it was late.
Another missed opportunity with Jacques. Even if he was still awake, she didn't think she'd be able to perform. And he definitely wouldn't want her to just lie there and take it, half asleep and doing a duty that needed to be done.
She really did get a good man as a husband. She needed to try harder to make time for-
Skrtch...
A soft scratching immediately snapped her eyes open as she bolted upright in the chair, on hand reaching for one of her arm daggers.
She waited. Not breathing. Her eyes useless in the dark room but her ears pricked and ready. The pale moonlight streaming through the window provided some sight, but her eyes hadn't yet fully adjusted to the darkness and so all she saw were vague shapes.
She heard nothing.
She waited. One minute stretching out into two then into three. Perfectly still, she sat perfectly still, ready to deploy one of her daggers and defend herself, every nerve on alert, no longer tired at all.
But the room remained still and silent. No further scratches.
Instead of putting her at ease, her instincts only screamed louder. She had spent countless hours alone in the silence of this room, and never once heard a scratch. There were no trees growing near the windows here that could have done it, it was too late for any servants to be moving about, and even if there were, the sound, brief though it was, hadn't come from the door. She also couldn't get the numerous assassination attempts on her out of her mind.
Castles always had secret tunnels. Escape routes. Secret storage. She had exploited them back in Vasconia for her many escapes. She hadn't thought about finding them here in Ambraude. She didn't know how many there might be or where.
But she did know that she didn't trust scratches in the night.
Another minute then another, and still nothing. Whatever had made the scratching noise had either moved on or had been spooked by her immediate movement.
Slowly, ready to draw her blade at a moment's notice, she got to her feet and moved towards the switch that controlled the gas lamps in the room. She flicked it and stiffened, ready for an attacker, now visible in the light, to charge.
But there was nothing. The room was empty and silent as ever.
Manon stood around for another minute, waiting. Eventually, she forced herself to give up and turned off the lights. She left the room, highly conscious of her back, ready for someone to slip a dagger in it.
She remained unharmed as she returned to her room, climbed into her bed, and fell into a very light, fitful sleep, her hand on the dagger under her pillow ready to draw it at any second.
~~~~~~
Saladin looked good. Years younger. He approached Jacques and Manon where they sat on their thrones, still wearing the gray of his normal priest robes, accented with only a simple, plain, gold colored sash as a nod to his rank. Far and away more humble than his predecessor.
His job now might be more stressful than running the shelter, but it was clearly good for him. There was a new, hard determination in his gaze that hadn't been there before. He walked with more confidence. Flanking him on either side were two younger priests, both in standard gray with no sash of rank, but who were clearly there as aids and students.
He bowed his head. They bowed at the waist.
"Welcome, Saladin," Jacques greeted, his voice ringing out over the gathered court. They were surrounded by nobles that had also gathered to meet the new Sacellum Master, curry his favor or scoff at his presence as personality demanded. They were all dressed in their finest, far outshining him, but his confidence somehow managed to make them all look overdressed.
"Your majesties," he replied evenly. "I am glad to see you both well."
"As are we," Manon smiled. "Leadership looks good on you."
Saladin straightened, offering her a grin in return. "The Lord's love is a powerful thing indeed. I am fortunate to be so blessed with it."
"We are eager to welcome it here in Isaie as well," Jacques said, his head high. The two royals had dressed up for the occasion, but had chosen to wear only plain circlet crowns instead of the full crown jewels. A nod to his own humble attire. "We've prepared quarters for you and your attendants to work in here in the palace. The staff has been ordered to accommodate you in every way you require. The city guard is similarly at your call if you need them."
Saladin dipped his head in acknowledgment. "I will be sure to call on them. My task should take no more than a couple weeks, then I will be moving on to the other major cities."
"You have our full support and authority behind you, Saladin," Manon smiled at him. "If anyone gives you trouble, just let us know."
"But you must be tired from your trip," Jacques gestured to those that were waiting in the wings of the room. "These are your servants for your time here. They will show you to your rooms and prepare anything you need."
"Thank you, your majesty."
Jacques and Manon waited for him to leave the room before quitting it themselves. The nobles also began to disperse. Back to their business or to continue chatting as was their want. Manon was pretty sure that Felicie was already out there, holding a court of her own.
If the nobles were hoping for a better chance to meet the new Sacellum Master, they were sorely disappointed.
In the days that followed, Saladin had only one purpose on his mind. He didn't care about welcoming feasts or rubbing elbows or even speaking with his king and queen. He had come to Ambraude on a mission and he was seeing it through without distraction.
So Manon couldn't be accused of anymore wickedness, she and Jacques were staying far away from his actions. They made it clear to everyone that the Sacellum Master was in charge of the churches and they were not going to step into his territory.
The aid they provided him in manpower was not the same as involving themselves.
All the things they had done in Isaie, Saladin did by himself here. He interviewed all the priests working in the city, searched their churches, reclaimed stolen wealth from 'donations', and did the redistribution work without their input.
The people were up in arms the first day. The protesters out in force. Saying that there was evil afoot and the churches were getting robbed and they would be burned down and all this was proof of Manon's villainy and influence over the king.
And then the crimes of the corrupted priests began to spread. Most of them were taking bribes in the form of donations for preferential treatment or outright lying about what the donations were being used for to scam them from people. At least one was accused of using confessed secrets against married women to force them to lay with him, three were found guilty of blackmailing for wealth or power, and one wasn't even a trained priest. He had just fashioned himself robes and installed himself in an old church to scam people from their gold after seeing actual priests do it.
At least the corruption in Isaie had only been about scamming gold. Seeing the depravity going on in Ambraude made Manon sick to her stomach.
It seemed to have an effect on the population as well. By the second day, no one was talking about the threat she posed to the church anymore. Instead, they were all commiserating on how they just knew such-and-such priest was wicked and coming up with stories of individual instances of harassment, blackmail, and theft that spread like wildfire.
All the while, Manon and Jacques' work faded into the background. The military men stopped talking about the uniform change, focused as they were on the heaps of gold and jewels and valuables that some of them were helping haul back to the palace for documentation and return. It gave them some room to get more done with less opposition.
It also seemed to validate them in the eyes of some. What happened in Isaie had already spread around the city, but that seemed so far away. So distant. Unreal, in an odd way. Seeing the same thing happening right in front of their eyes really made the people of Ambraude pay attention. They couldn't be evil if they were rooting out corruption, after all.
Felicie and Cy reported a distinct change in the tone people whispered about them in. The two of them were already known as absolute gossips and morons, so no one had an issue telling them everything and since no one realized they were close friends, that included any bad things that they wanted to say about Manon and Jacques.
But even their naysayers were silenced in surprise as the priests were hauled out and punishments were decided for their crimes – for they were crimes now. Unlike the priests in Isaie, these actions had been made illegal by Jacques and Manon and also disallowed in the church by Saladin's rule. They were, in fact, criminals thanks to those changes, and punishment was dispensed accordingly.
And since they had time and space to breathe now, the royal couple were able to turn their attention to something they had been putting off.
Trade deal talks with Lea.
Coming as an ambassador was her primary purpose, but she hadn't been able to perform that duty. Not while helping Emilien with everything he was doing. And not while everyone was so actively mad and accusatory towards Manon. Any deal reached, no matter how favorable it might be for Gascony, would be seen as some kind of trick or exploitation.
Now, with focus elsewhere, they could finally work on that. And the small amount of faith it had bought Manon meant they felt safe finally making a decision on it.
Emilien was deliberately not part of it. Though Lea could help him with his job as general as that was usually nothing more than protecting Jacques and Manon, he could not help her with her job as ambassador. No matter that he was probably the most unbiased person in the two kingdoms and had equal love and respect for both sides, no one would accept the Gascony general working on behalf of the Vasconians.
To prevent Manon of being accused of anything, however, Jacques did most of the negotiating with Lea. Though, it really wasn't that much of a negotiation. Mostly, they just drank tea, ate sandwiches, chatted about current events, the weather, training for the new soldiers, how many people had wished death upon her as an unnatural recently – it was a number that was actually going down, especially since Felicie had shown up and just started being silly and fluffheaded as loudly as possible everywhere she could.
Nothing was finalized in a day, but the fact that they could even get started on it was progress and a step towards a restoring of relationships between the kingdoms.
While they worked, Manon drafted instructions to their new merchant nobles that they could, in fact, begin trading with Vasconia over the border where permitted. Though she was also careful to include instructions on what to do if being threatening and how to protect themselves and who to contact if they were attacked or harassed.
The royal family might be close, but the common people still had hurt feelings and the threat of retaliation was high as they began to reconnect.
Jacques and Lea finished their negotiations before Manon finished her paperwork. She was in the office, her ears attuned for any possible scratching sounds, when he came in. He was fully relaxed and grinning.
"A very productive day, wife," he declared, walking over to his desk. "Lea is a lovely woman. Quite serious but nice."
Manon hummed in agreement, her eyes not lifting from her parchment.
"What are you writing over there?"
"Instructions on how to deal with the authorities for the merchants that are going to be trading across the border."
"Ah. How fortuitous that my wife is knowledgeable about such things."
She grinned but didn't stop writing. She was so focused on her task that she didn't realize Jacques had come to stand beside her and was reading the message over her shoulder until she finished and sat back, stretching her neck muscles.
"Very detailed," he admired, mindful of the wet ink as he lifted it.
"It has to be sent to the scribes so multiple copies can be made. I wanted to make sure that it covered all possible situations and no one was confused about what to do."
"It appears very straightforward to me. Well done."
She smiled. "So, what else is do we have to do today?"
"I believe you have training tonight with Amorette."
"I meant work that we have to do," she laughed.
"None. We are done for the day," he shrugged, setting the parchment back down. "Just in time for supper, actually."
"No. Really?" Manon sat up, excited.
Excitement that was immediately crushed when she remembered her training. She couldn't exactly follow Jacques back to his room or take him to hers. And who knew how long the training was going to last? And she would definitely be tired and sore after.
She sighed, slumping back in the chair. "I'm beginning to think Cy is onto something. We should just find a closet and have done with it."
Jacques scoffed. "Manon, please, at least attempt to romance me."
She laughed at his offended tone, knowing by the sparkle in his eye that he was joking. Mostly. He really did not want their first time together to be hasty and in a dark, tiny closet before they separated to do more work.
And, to be honest, neither did she. She wasn't opposed to the idea of closet sex as a whole, but she wanted the first time to be special. Or, at least, on a proper bed.
"Maybe I could just skip training," she said hopefully.
But Jacques shook his head. "Tempting as that is, neither of us really want you to do that. You need the practice and you have little enough time for it as it is."
"We have little enough time for intimacy either."
"Be easy, my dear." He reached down and stroked her cheek before gently grabbing her chin and lifting her eyes to him. "This is the first time since we began that we finished all our work before supper. That means we are finally getting on top of things. Our list of things that needs our immediate attention is going down and we're hiring trustworthy, talented people and putting them in positions that they can take over duties for us. People we can have faith know how to do it correctly. Every day, our workload lessens. Soon, I promise, we will have time again."
"I know you are right. I'm just..." She growled, her hands tightening in her skirts, an uncomfortable ache between her legs. "I am just impatient for you."
Jacques grinned, leaning down and giving her too brief, too chaste of a kiss. "Good. That means you are ready for me. All we need is the opportunity now."
She made to bite his fingers and he quickly pulled them away, both of them laughing.
"Hopefully, it happens sooner rather than later so I can help you with that frustration."
"Wicked man. You are just taunting me now," she sighed, standing.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm reverently. "Manon, would you tell me the truth?"
Surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice, she cocked her head curiously. "Of course, I would. Truth about what?"
"Do you miss home? Sorry, that is an obvious answer. I should say, do you long to return home? Are you happy here, my queen?"
Manon felt she could answer the question immediately and honestly, but his seriousness stopped her from belting out her response. It was a genuine, solemn question that deserved her full attention and fully honest answer. So, she thought about it for a second before speaking.
"I am... content in ways I never imagined before," she finally said. "I used to be so lost. Wondering what I was going to do with my life. Thinking that I was never going to amount to anything more than a gainful marriage for someone."
Jacques grimaced. "And that is exactly what you have become."
She laughed. "Yes. Ironic, is it not? The very thing I've been striving to avoid is the very thing I threw myself headfirst into on that path to avoid it. But whenever I imagined it in the past, I imagined a boring life as a wife, a mother, a noble lady with no real purpose. And, really, it was that purposelessness that really scared me.
"But I'm not purposeless here. I'm never bored. I never wonder what I'm going to be doing or what the importance of what I'm doing is. And, more than that," she found herself blushing, "my husband is far greater than I imagined."
He cocked a brow. "And what did you imagine wanting in your husband? What kind of man did you fantasize about having?"
She groaned, turning from him. "Oh, it sounds so shallow."
He threw back his head, laughing, already knowing what she was going to say.
"I never really thought about his personality or what he would do with his time. I was only ever concerned with how attractive he would be."
Jacques couldn't stop laughing and she fixed him a glare that only mad him laugh harder.
"Do tell me then, wife," he yanked on her hand, pulling her into his arms, "do I measure up to your fantasies? Are you pleased with the husband you chose?"
She pretended to think before shrugging. "You're alright."
He scoffed, grabbing her by the back of the neck. "You lie. I see it in your eyes. In the desire that flares for me every time you look at me."
Manon grinned wickedly back at him, not even attempting to defend the lie. "I suppose you're suitable."
"Take another look," he growled, pulling her closer.
"Hmm, maybe you'll do," she conceded playfully, resting her hands on his chest.
"If we had the time, I would bend you over this desk and prove just how much you desire me." It was an empty threat. He didn't want their first time to be on the desk anymore than he wanted it to be in the closet.
But the words, the sexual threat behind them, made her shiver with need as he closed his mouth over hers, kissing her roughly. Unapologetically. Reminding her in no uncertain terms that she was more than contented with the husband she chose.
Manon kissed him back with all the passion and strength she could muster. Refusing to simply submit to her king. She was his equal and his partner and, even in this, she would give him no quarter. They took their pleasure together.
Manon wasn't sure if she would call what she had now happiness. She was fulfilled, she had a purpose, and she was content. But she could taste happiness in his kiss. She could see the promise of it on the horizon.
She found purpose in her role as queen. She would find happiness in her role as his wife.
~~~~~~
Manon grunted as her body hit the ground with a hard, bone rattling thud. All of her weight slamming onto her back, driving her breath from her body.
Amorette stood over her, not even breaking a sweat. She had been beating on Manon for the better part of an hour. To go from a pleasant, flirtatious, playful dinner with Jacques – wherein they had taken turns tossing food into each others open mouths from across the table – to getting tossed repeatedly to the floor was jarring. In more ways than one.
"You have to be faster," Amorette said, hands to her hips. "Using your powers in combat should be as second nature to you as breathing. It shouldn't even require thought."
"You move too fast," she grumbled, pushing herself up.
"No. Your powers are too slow. When I grapple you, you should be able to use them to slip free without even pausing to think. It should just happen. Come on, do it again."
"Anyone ever tell you that you're ruthless?" She asked as Amorette grabbed her hand jerked, forcing her back to her feet. Every muscle in her body was sore from repeatedly being grappled, thrown, then harshly yanked back up.
"Life or death is ruthless, and that is what we're training for," she said, getting into position to grab her again. "We do this until you can break free."
Manon sighed but readied herself.
And found herself thrown onto the hard ground yet again. The mat laid out for her comfort was doing laughably little. Already, she was dreaming about the long, hot bath she was going to take after this to hopefully soak the soreness away.
"Again!" Amorette demanding, nearly pulling her arm out of socket when she yanked her up without giving her a chance to stand on her own.
It was frustrating and painful, but that was the point. Training wasn't supposed to be fun and easy. As Amorette said, it was training for life and death and she would much rather suffer a little pain now to save herself death later.
But Amorette was being unusually harsh today. Usually, the happy girl was content to just go along with whatever Manon said. She pushed her, but never farther than Manon asked for. The grappling practice today had been Amorette's suggestion, which was unusual in and of itself, but the near careless way she was treating her was so out of character it was almost worrying.
Manon hit the ground again, and this time, Amorette didn't even give her a chance to speak before she was yanking her back up by the wrist.
It was that yank that was really starting to rankle. The grapples and the throws were part of training, but the yanking seemed excessive. And it was always the same arm. The strain on her shoulder was getting to be too much. Especially on the next yank when it felt like her shoulder was about to be ripped out of socket entirely.
"Amorette, can you just-"
She didn't even finish talking before Amorette grabbed and threw her again. It wasn't even a proper grapple this time. She had just grabbed her arm and tossed her away Manon went sprawling on the floor, barely managing to protect her face from slamming against the bare, marble tile. Amorette had thrown her straight off the mat.
She didn't even get the chance to turn over before Amorette was there, grabbing that same arm, yanking backward this time. Manon let out a yip of pain as it felt like every tendon was stretched near the breaking point.
"Amorette, stop-"
Again, she was thrown before she could finished. This time, she slammed against the wall. Pain filled her as her skull cracked against the hard stone. Amorette was already walking her way, her usually sweet face drawn with focus and determination.
Manon could barely catch her breath as a genuine fear gripped her heart at the same time that Amorette grabbed her wrist.
She yanked, intending to throw her by that arm.
Manon cried out, yanking back, knowing full well that she couldn't compete against Amorette's immense strength.
But her hand slipped straight through.
Amorette, unprepared for the sudden lack of weight, stumbled forward a few steps. She turned back around, staring at Manon, both of them surprised. Manon was breathing hard, holding her abused arm close to her chest, the other at the ready to defend it.
But Amorette broke into a wide smile.
"Manon, you did it!" She yelled in her normal tone of voice, rushing forward.
Manon flinched back, but all she did was embrace her.
"I'm so happy. You finally did it!"
"Did it?" She repeated, still breathing hard, her entire body aching.
Amorette stepped back, grinning. "Well, you know, I'm not really good at training. I've never done it before and I didn't really know what to do and what you were doing was only working so much. So, I asked Lea for some tips. She said that, when they train the paladins in the Sacellum, sometimes to get someone to use their powers, they had to be a bit rough."
Manon just blinked at her, almost not understanding her words.
"Lea said if someone is reluctant to use their power, you have to stress them until they're forced to do so to protect themselves. She said I should pick a limb and hurt it until you're forced to react." A frown crossed her face. "I'm sorry I hurt you, but Lea said it was necessary. And look! You did it! You pulled yourself free so easily!"
Manon, chest heaving, heart still racing, looked down at the hand she had pulled from Amorette. It didn't look any different, but what Amorette was saying had to be true. The only way she could have pulled free was if she had quickly used her powers. Instinctively.
She finally fixed a glare on the happily smiling woman. "That was awful."
"Lea said it would be."
"But it worked," she agree, rolling her shoulder. "And you've proven your point."
Amorette beamed. "And you finally did it! So, we can be done for the day."
"Thank the Lord," Manon said with all seriousness. "I think you might have near broken my arm if I hadn't pulled free."
Amorette shrugged, but she didn't disagree, which was hardly reassuring.
Manon limped her way back to her bathing chamber. Her entire back spasming, her arm aching at each joint, and her entire body bruised and beaten.
She was taking a very long, very hot bath. She didn't care if it meant sacrificing sleep. These pains would be so much worse tomorrow if she let them fester.
It was later than she realized. Amorette must have been beating on her for even longer than she thought. The castle was dark and quiet. She considered waking one of her lady's maids for only a moment but disregarded it. She would feel bad that she disturbed their sleep, and she didn't want to worry any of them.
Besides, she could draw her own bath. It just hurt to move around in order to do so.
It was a slow process. She kept wincing and stopping as her muscles yelled at her in protest, but eventually she managed too get the deep basin filled with steaming water fresh from the pipes, scented with bath oils that were more medicinal than fragrant.
Taking off her training clothes was even more difficult. Her arm didn't want to raise up in any direction after the abuse it suffered, so it took some time to get her shirt off. But when she was finally nude and sliding into the heated water, it was sweet relief.
She groaned, sinking down to her chin. She forced all of her tense muscles to relax, trying to let the water carry her weight. Taking deep, calming breaths.
It actually helped and, after more than a few minutes passed, she finally felt some of the tension beginning to melt into the hot water.
While part of her, a distant part, was able to appreciate what Amorette was trying to do for her, something she had asked her to do, she couldn't help but be swamped with regret that she had been thrown around like a rag doll instead of skipping to spend the evening with Jacques. She could have been discovering heretofore unknown pleasures of the flesh.
Instead, she almost had her shoulder wrenched out of socked, bruised her back, cracked her skull, and had at least a year of her life scared away.
Definitely not worth the trade.
She sighed, the sound loud in the empty, echoing bathing room. Each time she moved a limb, the splash and movement of water rang back to her like music from an instrument she didn't know how to play while steam filled the air and her body gradually released its aches.
Thinking about Jacques was actually helping as well. She found some of the pain fading as she imagined her husband. He had asked once if he could see her training sessions, and today she was glad she had denied him. He probably would have interfered before Amorette pushed her to breaking and though she appreciated his protectiveness, it would have rendered the pain pointless. And she was sure she'd be more grateful for Amorette's efforts once she healed a bit.
She didn't want to think about Amorette or the pain right now though, so she instead thought once about her husband again.
Her handsome, protective, gentlemanly husband. The way he smirked when he smiled. The way his eyes flashed when he was angry and defending her. The way he had held her so close that morning after the ball while they slept. The warmth of his chest while his heartbeat thrummed steady and strong in her ear.
A low breath escaped her lips as she found her back slowly arching up, an ache in her core, somehow deeper than the pains in her body, driving her to seek some kind of release.
Manon bit her lip but her indecision only lasted a moment. It had been a long time since she had time to herself, and playing games and flirting shamelessly with Jacques had left her needy and wanting. The single orgasm he gave her seemed so long ago...
Manon didn't need any further permission. Sighing softly, her hand sank into the water as she leaned back, opening her legs.
A soft moan escaped her lips when her fingers found the center of her pleasure. She trembled as she began to slowly tease and message the nub. The sound of her breathy pants echoing back to her seemed so naughty but so right.
She wished Jacques was here instead. She imagined it was his larger, stronger hands parting her lips and pressing his fingers into her. He would lean over her, his heavy, muscular body a pleasant weight as he kissed her breathless.
He would be as desperate for release as she was. His touch hurried but not sloppy as he built her up to a quick release so he could penetrate her without pain or issue. The water would splash around their bodies as they moved together, both desperately seeking their pleasure. She could just picture the droplets falling down his muscular body. His lips on hers before trailing down her neck, sucking on her nipples. His tongue circling the hardened buds.
She reached up and grasped at one herself with her other hand. It wasn't perfect, but it fed into the illusion she was building in her mind.
The water was splashing now, moving along with the rocking of her hips as she chased her peak. Her muscles were all clenching in anticipation of it as her fingers rapidly stroked, gasps and pants and whining moans escaping her lips. It made the aches of her body a bit worse, but she didn't care as she pushed through, knowing the climax would make it all better.
The feelings, the sounds, her own imagination. It was building up in her. Tighter and tighter. Right on the edge-
Click.
Reflex made Manon move, her body dropped in the water, her arms pushing her away from one side of the tub to the other, bringing with her a wave of water that crashed over the floor. She heard a loud scratch and thud behind her.
She turned as a male voice cursed.
A male voice. There was a man in her bathing chamber.
And he had just tried to kill her.
She saw the flash of his dagger as he lifted it out of the water where he had attempted to drive it down into her chest, succeeding only in scratching the tub.
She was naked, unarmed, and her entire body ached, and he was turning to her, eyes flashing with hatred. He had a mask over his face, but he was wearing an ill-fitting uniform of a royal servant. Something stolen, no doubt, as she didn't recognize him.
Once again, reflex moved Manon before she had a chance to think. She grabbed the side of the tub and launched herself out, one hand covering her breasts in a rather pointless move considering what he must have already seen. She hit the tile with a splash, more water having followed her escape. Her bare feet slid on the smooth surface, but his boots held firm as he chased her around.
She reached towards the first thing she saw – a low stool that held her bathing oils. She grabbed one of the glass vials and turned, throwing it at him. He batted it out of the air as she expected, but it bought her another second for her to grab the stool, upend the other battles, sending them all crashing to the floor, shattering, as she turned, wielding her improvised weapon.
He said nothing as he tried to knock that away too, but she released her breasts and grabbed it with both hands, using it to knock his arms away instead. She used the three legs, holding onto the seat, like a strange spear, thrusting forward and attempting to push him back. An act made more difficult by her bare feet on the slippery floor.
The man growled with frustration, grabbing one of the legs and jerking back against it. She let it go, sending him stumbling just a few steps.
She took advantage, running forward. She grabbed hold of his knife hand and twisted, pulling a grunt of pain from as his blade clattered to the floor. She kicked it away.
He took advantage of her closeness by wrapped his other hand around her throat. Squeezing. She grabbed for his wrist without thinking as he wrapped his other fist around her neck as well. Squeezing so hard she saw the cords stand out in his neck.
But her neck compressed easily under his grasp. She could breath. She didn't feel the blood struggling to make it to her brain. He was shaking her now, lost in the violence of the murderous act he was trying to commit.
But Manon was suddenly calm as she looked into his dark eyes. She stopped struggling. She stared and waited. Eventually, he stared back at her.
He saw the lack of panic or pain as it surely must feel like he was breaking her neck by now. She saw his confusion and uncertainty as he tried to squeeze harder without effect. She saw the moment realization dawned and fear entered his eyes.
He pulled back from her as though he had been burned and she felt, she actually felt, her throat returning to normal size. He choked, reaching for a dagger that wasn't there.
Manon roared as she charged. He turned to run. She leapt onto his back, clinging on like a desperate monkey, her arm going around his neck. She squeezed and, unlike her, he actually began to choke. He reached up and began digging at her arm as she struggled to throw her off.
Manon held on with all her might. All four limbs trembling with the force of her efforts. He slammed her back against the wall, but she didn't even feel it, so focused she was on cutting off his air and bringing him down.
Her roar had not gone unnoticed, however.
The heavy pounding of boots was followed a moment later by her guards yelling at her through the door.
"Your majesty, are you-"
"Get in here!" She yelled back.
They didn't hesitate to obey. She had flipped the lock when she came in, but they opened it easily from the other side. She saw the key sticking out of the keyhole and figured out how her attacker had gained entrance.
Her guards wasted no time.
The man was yanked forward by both arms, pulling them away from the wall. Manon released her grip and dropped down, stepping backwards, covering her breasts with her arm and her mons with her other hand.
Most of the royal guard were focused on subduing the attempted assassin who was putting up a real struggle – he might not have been an experienced fighter, but he was strong. One guard, however, grabbed a towel and thrust it towards her, his eyes carefully averted.
She took it with a small thanks and wrapped it around her body as the man was de-masked. He was on his knees, both arms held by different guardsmen. Removing the mask did nothing. She still did not recognize the man.
"Wait," she ordered as they were about to drag him out.
She approached slowly, her feet splashing on the sodden ground. He turned, glaring at her with hatred, spitting angry.
"You!" He hissed, struggling.
"Kill him," she ordered mercilessly.
"I know what you-"
His words ended on a choked gurgle as a knife cut across his throat. Blood poured out, joining the water on the floor. He gasped, struggling to speak, to reveal her ability. But he couldn't make a sound and she watched, cold but determined, as he took her secret to the grave.
He would have died anyway. Breaking into the queen's bathing chamber and attempting to kill the queen were both serious crimes. Jacques wouldn't have let him live. But he knew what she was now and he had to die before he could speak.
"Take his body from here," she ordered, stepping away from the blood as it spread. "Secure the area. Try to find out how he got a key to this room. And someone wake the king."
She sighed the last part, knowing Jacques would not take this well.
And she was right.
A short time later, after she had pulled on a simple night dress and covered it with a dressing gown, he appeared in full, fiery fury. He had a dressing gown as well, but he hadn't bothered to tie it shut so it blew open when he crossed her bedroom, anger and concern shining in his eyes.
"Are you hurt?" He asked, grabbing her face, checking her over carefully.
She smiled, shaking her head. She had a couple scratches on her legs from where the shattered glass bottles had nicked her, but they were irrelevant and painless. Everything else, she could attribute to her training session with Amorette.
"I've sent word to Cupid," Jacques said anything, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"You don't have to wake him up for this."
"My queen was attacked, naked and still wet from her bath. I am not going to sleep until the physician has seen you." His tone brokered no argument and, though she felt bad for waking Cupid after she just sent Amorette to join him in bed, she only nodded.
He turned, glaring at the captain of the royal guard, a muscular young man that had obviously quickly dressed after being roused from bed.
"How did this happen?" Jacques spit, hissing fire and venom. The soft tone he had directed at her was completely gone as he turned, putting her to his back like there was some other threat to protect her from.
Manon didn't bother to listen to the man explain what she had already heard. The man had been identified as one of the engineers that maintained the royal airship. Arnaud's office had been broken into and the spare key to her bathing chamber, her bedroom, and her wardrobe, had all been stolen. The other two had been found on his body. It wasn't yet known where he stole the uniform from or why, exactly, he had done it.
When the captain told him that she had the man executed immediately, he didn't even flinch. He just demanded to know how he could have possibly gotten all the way to her bathing chamber without once being seen or stopped. Any guard that saw a man moving around the queen's quarters this late at night by himself who wasn't recognized should have been stopped.
The captain muttered out some excuse that really amounted to nothing. Manon had found out herself just a few minutes ago that the royal guard worked on the same system of advancement as the military, in that the captain was the best fighter. In this particular case, while he was a great guardsman, he was not a good leader or strategist and he wasn't that good at forethought either.
And as Jacques was telling him all that, giving him the dressing down of his life, and removing his rank of captain, Manon was turning, allowing Bidaude – who had been woken by the commotion – to brush smoothing serum through her still damp hair.
The former royal guard captain tried to say something back. For the insubordination, and seeing the bitterness in his eyes, Jacques removed him from the royal guard entirely, assigning him back to the city guard. They couldn't entrust their protection to a man that might have reason to be angry or resentful towards them.
The man left in a huff, but the two royal guards that remained at their stations looked a bit smug to see him go. Both men were older than the former captain and clearly he wasn't well liked. All the more reason to be rid of him.
Jacques muttered something dark under his breath that she didn't care to listen to as Bidaude finished her task.
"My king, I'm fine," she assured him, stepping to his side and putting a hand to his chest to cease the agitated pacing he had begun.
Jacques covered her hand with his, anger burning in his gaze. "A man saw you naked and helpless and nearly killed you. I almost wish you hadn't had him executed already just so I could have the pleasure of doing it myself."
Manon smiled, thrilled at how bloodthirsty he became for her. She opted not to let him know exactly what she had been doing when the assassin appeared. She didn't think that would help his anger calm at all.
"It's done and he's gone. Don't worry about it." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, prompting him to put an arm around her, holding her tight. "I am more than capable of dealing with a stab happy engineer."
"You shouldn't have to is my point," he glared at the door the former captain had left through. Getting a new one was his first order of business tomorrow. He had overlooked their ranking system since he had been so focused on the military and city guard. A foolish mistake that he was going to rectify immediately.
Before she could try to calm him further, the guardsman standing outside announced that the royal physician and his wife had arrived. Cupid and Amorette entered together, but appearing equally concerned and fresh out of bed.
"Manon, what happened?" Amorette asked, quickly crossing the room to her.
"I'm fine. Jacques is overreacting."
"I am not. Cupid, examine my wife. Make sure she's all right."
The dirty blond haired young man stepped forward, confused but not unwilling. "Sure, but what am I checking for? What happened?"
Manon stepped behind her changing screen so Cupid could look her over as she explained to him – and Jacques too since he had only heard the short version from the guard that had woken him – what happened. Leaving out certain small details like what she had been interrupted doing and the fact that she had so easily survived a choking. She made it sound like she had managed to loosen his grip enough to slip free, no paladin powers involved.
Cupid, who knew very well that she had powers, gave her a knowing look that she nodded at as he examined her throat.
"A small bit of bruising," he said. She could practically hear the 'but not as much as I would expect' that didn't come after it. "Turn, let me see your back."
He hummed thoughtfully as he poked at her spine, the muscles around it, testing for bruising that she already knew from checking in the mirror wasn't there. Her stretching seemed to be protecting her from blunt trauma. A dagger would probably still be lethal though, so she was glad that she managed to move out of the way in time.
"Her majesty is fine," he declared a short time later after checking the tiny cuts on her legs. "Nothing serious."
"Do you have something for muscles aches?" Manon asked, following after him. She was thinking more of the training session than the brief fight afterwards, but it was a good excuse to ask for some medicine without revealing said training.
Cupid measured her out some herbs to steep into a tea that he ordered her to drink at bedtime, he gave her a lotion for the bruising, and recommended getting a message for the rest. Manon thanked him and, after reassuring Jacques, again, that she was really all right, he left with Amorette, Bidaude trailing behind them. Jacques dismissed the royal guard to stand outside, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet room.
After a few, strained seconds, Jacques let out a long breath, running his hand through his mussed and sleep messy hair.
"You're really okay?" He asked, holding out his hand.
She took it with a smile, letting him pull her back into his arms. "I'm all right. I promise. My training with Amorette was more painful."
"But less dangerous." He frowned. "Not that I don't approve, and I'm not saying you were wrong, but why did you kill him so quickly? We could have questioned him. Tried to find out why he did it and how so we could prevent anything similar in the future.
Manon frowned, lifting a hand to her neck. He quickly brushed it away, taking her chin and lifting her head so he could examine the light bruising himself. He didn't say anything, but she saw the hatred for the dead man flash in his eyes.
"When he squeezed, I used my powers without thinking. He saw how much my neck compressed. He figured it out. I had no choice."
Jacques growled, releasing her chin and embracing her fully. "I still wish I had the chance to kill him myself, but I understand. None of the guards saw?'
"No. They cut his throat before he could say anything."
"That was too close."
"I dealt with it."
"You shouldn't have had to. Manon, my dear, I know you're highly capable and I don't doubt your ability, but I don't want you to ever be forced to use it."
She tilted her head back and saw the genuine concern in his eyes. For some reason, the sight surprised her. "You were really worried, huh?"
He sighed. "Yes, Manon. I really was. Will you..."
His voice trailed off and she cocked her head curiously, wondering why he hesitated. "Will I what?"
He took in a breath, steadying his shoulders, and started again. "Manon, move into my room with me. I don't want you this far from me again."
"Yes," she said. No hesitation. No delay.
Jacques' body relaxed at her easy agreement. He lowered his head and kissed her sweetly. Gratefully. And the next day, her belongings were moved into his room.