All royals and noble guests are gathered in the great hall to celebrate another day of the royal wedding reception, only the newlyweds' seats remain still empty what is not left unnoticed by visibly perturbed princess Sibylla, who spares no effort to draw everyone's attention from her sister-in-law's mysterious absence, albeit unavailingly as rumors are already spreading among the agog crowd. Some claim the king locked the bride in a tower to keep her all for himself, others predicate the new queen ran away a long time ago.
''How strange. The bride is nowhere to be seen.'' - comments sarcastically lord Guy and slurps the rest of his dry wine without taking his eyes off his frowned wife.
''Your highness!'' - calls Heraclius, sitting beside the princess's husband. ''Today is too grand to waste it on griefs. Let's raise a toast and enjoy the feast. To our king!''
''And the queen!'' - adds quickly William of Tyre, ambling toward their table.
''Brother William, fancy seeing you here! To the best of my knowledge, social gatherings don't catch your interest.''
''Only those attended by ignorant men. I would consider joining the banquet if the only available seat wasn't next to a man of that kind...'' This sardonic punditry doesn't appeal to Heraclius, whose supercilious smirk at once fades away as the two of them exchange cold glares. ''As a matter of fact, I was on my way to the scriptorium, hence if you excuse me, I'll return to my paperwork. There's a lot of latest events to be recorded in order that future generations won't have the wrong image about certain people.'' Turning on his heel, the archbishop of Tyre rushes then to the archive in the attic and the moment he presses the handle, a soft giggle coming from the depth of the chamber makes him halt in the doorway. There under the opened window stands the king embracing the queen from behind and whispering honeyed words into her ear. Not to interrupt the lovers, the man tries to imperceptibly retreat, however a parquet floor's squeak exposes his presence.
''My teacher.'' - greets him cheerily Baldwin.
''Heavens! You're still calling me teacher.''
''That's out of habit, I believe.'' - chuckles the king at the sight of his former tutor sighing heavily.
''Come, my son, let me see you better.'' Broadly grinning, the scholar grasps both Baldwin's arms to eye him up to down. ''At last my handsome son got married. I'm so proud of you.''
''You once told me marriage wasn't meant for me, do you remember?''
''Listen, my dear child, not everyone has the same goal in life. For ones it's to bring up a family, for others it's wealth and for some it's renown, but you, my son, have a great task to accomplish and it's to find your own happiness. I feared you would yield due to your health state thus telling you to live in holiness was the only choice I had to maintain your verve to rule the kingdom.''
''Though I haven't fulfilled your wish, I don't regret choosing this path of life because it led me to my new hope.'' With that said Baldwin glances over his shoulder at lady (Y/N). ''My future.'' Under his boastful gaze the blushing queen deeply lowers her head and bits her botom lip to suppress the grin.
Observing them intently, the dominus raises his index finger as he harangues the groom: ''Remember, my son, to always take good care of your wife.''
''Do not worry, teacher. I'm not like my father. In my heart there is only place for my dear (Y/N).''
A fond smile forms on the sage's lips and letting out a thoughtful sigh, he urges: ''Go, my children, celebrate with others. I want to see the two of you laughing and smiling from ear to ear. I surmise the queen would like to see the guests now.''
''In truth...'' - intervenes shyly the queen. ''The relaxation with my dear husband here in the library is far more fascinating than their frolics.'' Beaming with cheerfulness, lady (Y/N) suddenly clasps her hands together. ''Oh! I almost forgot! It's time to change the bandages. I'll prepare the medicines.''
When she disappears behind the door, William of Tyre is about to leave as well but Baldwin rapidly grabs his arm and says in a steely tone: ''You didn't tell me the queen's father is from the County of Tripoli. Do you have any idea what does it mean?'' Receiving no response, he continues more sturdily: ''If the current sovereign of Tripoli, Tiberias, remains without an heir of his own blood, the title will pass on to my wife as the only rightful successor from the House of Toulouse and I will be the co-ruler.'' The awed archbishop slowly lifts his chin to meet Baldwin's fevered stare. ''The Levant will eventually become a united kingdom. And if God allows me to have an offspring, my son or daughter will become the most powerful monarch of Jerusalem in history.''
The gravity of the king's words leaves the scribe speechless in this tensed atmosphere, which to his relief is shortly interrupted with the queen's prompt return. He respectfully bows to the monarchical couple and taking a leave swiftly, almost bumps into a courtier, who hurries to announce with dignity: ''In the name of princess Sybilla and her husband lord Guy I wish to invite the king and queen to a musical performance dedicated to your majesties.''
''I'll gladly accept the invitation, provided that my wife is eager to participate in it.'' Baldwin next faces lady (Y/N) with a question: ''What do you say, my love?''
''I have nothing against this idea as long as I'm by your side.''
''Then it's settled.'' After dismissing his sister's messenger boy, the king raises to his feet and locking arms with his ladylove, at an easy pace heads back to their bedchamber to get prepared for the event which impatiently awaits a certain knight from Poitou...
''They will be here soon. Go bring the woman.''
''Yes, my lord.'' A hooded servant nods and strides toward a folding screen behind which are assembling female artists.
''My dear?'' - asks anxious lady (Y/N), drawing closer to her spouse. ''I have a bad feeling about this plan. What if-''
''Trust me, my princess, it'll be the most resplendent wedding gift the king has ever seen.''
''Attention!'' - the seneschal silences the entire public. ''The king and queen of Jerusalem are coming!''
There in the main entrance arrive king Baldwin and lady (Y/N) in her new scarlet red gown with long sleeves. Together they walk up the dais to take a seat on the thrones.
''My queen, you look stunning tonight.'' - flatters her lord Joscelin of Courtenay.
''Thank you...'' It is not his adulation that causes bashfulness in her voice but the fact she's the cynosure of all eyes, including lord Guy who is ogling the young queen consort.
Meanwhile, minstrels have already begun playing middle eastern instruments and in the midst of the dance floor forms up a troupe of dancers in fancy robes. One of them, a nubile lady wearing a skimpy attire slowly approaches the king with alluring dancing moves. Aware of this obvious provocation, lady (Y/N) squeezes her fists in annoyance which doesn't overlook lady Elvira, who discreetly gestures to the mistress of the home not to meddle in that affair. In view of being incessantly watched by nobles, the queen has to put on a brave face and taking a deep breath, she closes her eyelids, trying to stay unruffled, but all of a sudden someone's fingers entwine with her own and taking a glimpse to her right, lady (Y/N) to her delight finds Baldwin keeping a weather eye on her instead of paying attention to the belly dancer, who humphs loudly when the king presses the mask's silver lips to his beloved's knuckles. Despite the seducer's multiple attempts, nothing could disrupt the twosome's unmitigated admiration for each other.
Once the first part of the extravaganza is done, lord Guy takes the floor again: ''I hope your majesties enjoyed the dance. I chose it specially for the queen who might have not seen such rarities at Byzantine court.''
Lending a sympathetic ear to his wry remark, lady (Y/N) can't help not to sneer at him. ''I believe lord of Lusignan has never visited the Byzantine court. Nota bene each year travel there dozens of artists from all corners of the world. I met in person some of them from whom I took private lessons.''
''Then the queen must be well-educated in arts. Why don't your majesty grace us all with a display of one of your skills?''
''Please do, your majesty!'' - the cheers of the exhilarated mass get louder by the minute.
''M'lady!'' - alarmed lady Elvira tries to preclude the standing up queen from accepting the dare but to no avail. Lady (Y/N) perkily steps forward, while all performers are moving aside and the bandleader, given new commands from her, promptly changes the repertuar.
''My king.'' - before Baldwin gracefully curtsies his bride. ''I'd like to present you a traditional dance that brings me back memories of my childhood, it's called Acharuli.''
Just as she earns the king's approval, lady (Y/N) straightens up and proceeds to her grand performance. The spectators, hypnotized by her smooth movements full of grace, stand frozen in their spots and scrutinize her each one step. Enthralled Baldwin reaches out to the queen when she concludes the final act with an enchanting obeisance and, clasping her to his body, he purrs: ''My beautiful (Y/N), for your magnificent dance I shall reward you.''
''My dear, your love and happiness is reward enough for me.''
Baldwin hums pensively before enjoining: ''Come with me.''