Paying Respects

[Saiketsu]

The knot in his stomach turned to something more solid and unmanageable as the city wall came into view. Silly, he knew, but he couldn’t shake that feeling of nervousness that left him tapping his foot inside of his small carriage which Raymond deToulouse had provided for him for the long ride through Elaria. If he had had his way, there would have been no carriage or caravan carrying him to the original lands of his mother. Rather, it would have been him and his horse, riding hard with nothing but the loud clopping of galloping hooves over the land to fill his head and thoughts. There would have been no room for anxiety when he and his friendly beast were one. It wasn’t as though he had never been there before – actually the ride was quite familiar to him even after all this time. Still a fit of tapping overcame his limbs as the city slowly became bigger in the distance, something that his companion noticed immediately and smiled at. After informing Guillaume needlessly that there was nothing to be nervous about, Guillaume nodded curtly and kept his eyes fixed on the castle.

There was no real explanation for the tumultuous feeling that dwelled inside of him – usually it was a constant state of being that he could swallow and ignore. Today, however, it was provoked by his mission to visit his cousins and distant family as a sign of kinship between the deToulouse family and the Kestrels. It had been just over eight months since the King, Guillaume’s distant cousin, fell ill and passed and in that time there had been no envoy to Oberon, save letters expressing grief from the relations in France. Raymond, the duke of Toulouse and brother to Guillaume’s father, had sent the young man as a sign of his loyalty to the deceased King and to celebrate the coronation of Mayhew as supreme ruler of Elaria.

While Guillaume obviously agreed with his uncle, seeing the lands of his mother again after so long had passed struck him with an animalistic sort of fright. He had been just barely a man the last time he had seen the King and his children. Mayhew was twelve and Guillaume had been nineteen when he had left, after spending a short holiday with his family, visiting with his parents. Guillaume wasn’t even sure if he would even recognize the new King now that he had missed the shaping years of Mayhew’s life. Mayhew was a man now, a king, and Guillaume imagined that these past eight months would have made him seem much older than just eighteen winters old.

“You’re worrying too much,” his companion said, pulling on his gloves and readjusting his clothing as the cart pulled into the walls of the city hauling its goods. Guillaume ignored him again and took to biting a callous on the corner of his nail.

The ambassador was dressed to the nines and he shifted uncomfortably because of it. Donned in tones of neutral greens and grays, Guillaume pulled at his clothing that was in fact too luxurious for him to feel like himself in. When the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the palace, he pulled himself up quickly and wordlessly, despite the grin on his partner’s face. Jean-Luc had a lot of things to be smiling about these days, none of which possessed Guillaume or even convinced him that he should feel differently about his duty.

As he descended the carriage and adjusted his overcoat, he turned to the servant who had been sent to receive guests and told him to inform King Mayhew that Lord Guillaume deToulouse had arrived from France. The king had hopefully been informed of his arrival to Elaria by a letter from Raymond himself, though it wouldn’t have been the first time a message wasn’t received in time. The man who had greeted him nodded dutifully and turned to return to the palace.

It was several minutes of adjusting his coat and fiddling with his bleeding finger before Guillaume and his envoy was led into a waiting room just inside the palace. Jean-Luc, his right hand man, personal guard and advisor of sorts, stood with the young royal more patiently than Guillaume could handle. He passed a few words in French with the vicomte to pass the time, comments admiring the house in which he found himself.

The castle hadn’t changed drastically, to Guillaume’s utter (albeit displaced) shock, since he had visited. For a few moments, he had forgotten what he was there for and revisited the holidays of his youth when he found himself in the palace of Oberon. Pleasant moments of nostalgia flooded over his attention and helped ease the tension in his chest, memories of boyhood, his cousins and brothers romping around the grounds and palace. It gave him peace – until the servant returned to deliver him and his companion wherever they needed to go, or to bring whichever royal blood was willing to receive them into the kingdom of Elaria.

[Existentially Odd]

When Rochelle was informed that Mayhew's French cousin had arrived at the palace, she immediately hastened in from the courtyard she'd been lazing in (drawing the fountain and the lovely late-summer greenery beyond it in charcoal).  Her hands were quite black but she'd been wearing a smock over her gown, so she hurried to her suite to wash and freshen up.  The dress she wore today was a perfect match to her pale blue eyes, tight in the bodice, slightly frilled in the three-quarter sleeves and full in the skirts.  An attractive amount of golden skin was on display at her throat, the scooped neckline baring her collarbone and dropping low enough so that only the most modest amount of chest - and no cleavage - was visible.

After she'd washed her hands as clean as they would get, she checked her hair in the looking glass, pleased it was still held perfectly in place.  Today, it had been styled by the hairdresser she didn't normally bother with, pinned up with some wispy curls falling about her pretty young face, some diamond and sapphire-headed pins adding a little sparkle throughout the frothy blonde tresses.  She'd been making a special effort to let her servants prepare her for the past four days because Lord deToulouse's letter had come then and warned of his son's approach within the week.  They had obviously made good time, to have arrived so closely on the heels of their messenger! The man was staying in the servants' quarters at the palace, waiting for his liege's arrival so that he might travel back to France with the news that Gilluame had made the journey in one piece; Roche bet the messenger would be very surprised that his holiday in beautiful Oberon was about to be cut so short.

Pinching her cheeks to bring about some extra colour (for she wore no makeup), she hurried out of her chambers and to the greeting room she'd been told Lord deToulouse had been shown to.  She expected that her husband would be coming from his office and might take a little more time to reach the same spot but she didn't hesitate in rushing into the room alone first.  It probably wasn't the decourous thing to do, but she was terribly excited to have such a well-known and highly-ranked guest in her home - well, he had been thus, back in France.  Roche's mother had mentioned the Lord Raymond deToulouse quite a bit when she returned from court, as he was His Majesty's cousin, and she'd heard the name Gilluame more than once, growing up.  To the people of Oberon he would be just another noble foreigner come to take advantage of their lovely city, but to Rochelle he was so much more.

He was related to royalty, related to her husband and, most importantly, he was French!  She couldn't wait for Mayhew to turn up just so she could meet him!

She paused at the door to the room and took a breath, trying to steady her clamouring heart and racing pulse to no avail.  She was so terribly excited it was impossible!  When she realised how hopeless trying to quell that enthusiasm in herself was, she merely nodded at the guard standing by the door and he opened it for her.  She swept into the room with a very broad grin stretching her lovely face, her large blue eyes twinkling excitedly as she spied the Lord and his companion reclining on the generously-stuffed settee to her left.  There was a twin facing it, with a coffee table between, all three pieces on a beautiful Turkish rug that added some brightness to the general cream and gold overtones of the room, but she didn't glance at it yet.  She had eyes only for her husband's guests.

"Lord deToulouse?" she piped excitedly, her right hand uncurling from her left - which remained tucked demurely against her stomach - and floating before her as she approached the men gracefully.  They both stood up, but the one who had to be deToulouse stepped forward to meet her and she held her hand towards him, smiling even more broadly (if that was possible) as she met his pale and serious gaze.  "I am Queen Rochelle Kestrel - formerly Baronne Lafayette - and I'm so very glad to welcome you to Oberon in the name of my husband and your cousin, the king!" she told him regally, the very comfortable feeling of her mother tongue being spoken making her even happier.  Truthfully, it was what she looked forward to the most; having someone to whom she could speak in French.  It would be almost like a little holiday back to her home and as much as it might make her miss her family even more, she thought it would be more than bearable.

[Saiketsu]

When the door had opened, he had expected his cousin, or at least another servant. Guillaume was simply waiting for this paralyzing sense of anxiety to fade as he looked upon the familiar face of his royal cousin. The knot in his stomach, however, had jumped into his throat as he watched the doors open as if time had slowed down, but instead of a familiar face of his relative, in walked a young girl he had never met before. It took him a noticable moment to figure out who this young one was in addressing him. He was then hit with the sudden recall that Mayhew had been wed, and that this pretty young thing must have been the queen whom he had never set eyes upon before.

During his voyages in France - as he had recently just returned to Toulouse from Paris when Raymond had sent him toward Elaria - he had been notified of King Morgan's passing and Mayhew's coronation. He'd been told by the King that King Mayhew had married a French noble's daughter - Lafayette, as was announced to him currently. Yet he was almost ashamed to admit to himself that he had forgotten about the girl for most of the trip back from Paris and to Elaria. Now, as she was standing in front of him, recognition struck him and he smiled cordially to her, relieved that he would fully understand the new Queen.

He was pleased to see that she was a beautiful young thing with a pretty figure and face. She was pleasant and girlish, something that eased him a bit, despite not knowing her well. Guillaume had heard about how beloved she was in Oberon and was pleased to see that these rumors seemed true. Though her skin was a bit darker than he was expecting from a lady in her position, she was graceful even though she was young. There was something about her that had Guillaume liking her immediately for the wife of his cousin.

"Your Majesty," Guillaume said taking her hand and greeting her however the decorum was appropriate for the Queen of Elaria (whether that was to kiss the hand of royalty, bow to her or whatever was perferred). "It is so good to finally meet you, and I thank you heartily for your welcome," Guillame responded cordially, the knot in his chest loosening, though not dissapating just yet. "This is my advisor, Monsieur Jean-Luc Corbeau Etienne Francois," he continued, gesturing to his associate off his shoulder, whom bowed to the Queen at that moment. With a more formal tone, though not one that seemed so shocking in the beginnings of their polite conversation, Guillaume added, "We are here to congratulate you and King Mayhew on your marriage and coronation on behalf of your faithful servant and companion, Raymond deToulouse, Duke of Toulouse, as well as to offer our sympathy and grief towards the passing of the honored King Kestrel."

[Existentially Odd]

"My greetings to you also, Monsieur Francois," the young queen told her guest's companion, inclining her head to acknowledge him as she had been instructed was the correct etiquette in such situations.  She had allowed her hand to be kissed by Monsieur deToulouse as was appropriate, but she was not obligated to acknowledge his associate in the same manner - he did receive an enthusiastic smile as well, though.  Her features sobered appropriately as she then turned back to her primary guest in order to respond to the heart of his greeting.

"On behalf of my husband, His Majesty, Mayhew Kestrel, I accept your congratulations and condolences and extend our deepest gratitude to you and your beloved father, the Duke of Toulouse," Rochelle accepted graciously, adding a personal comment before she moved the conversation onto more pleasant topics.  "It was a terrible shock to us that His former Majesty was unable to recover and the kingdom is still shuddering to this day, as I'm sure you'll understand.  But please, let us sit," she invited with a firm smile, moving toward the couch that directly faced the one the gentlemen had already been occupying.  She settled herself primly, feet tucked beneath her skirts swiftly so as not to delay her guests from finding their comfort (none would sit before a lady did, of course).  She sat at one end of the settee, anticipating that her husband would arrive at any moment.

"My husband will be here momentarily, I imagine," she informed them with a twinkling smile, "I admit I rushed in here to greet you quite willfully, for I couldn't wait to hear about your journey and how France is faring this season!" she enthused, her cheeks flushing prettily with the knowledge that she'd technically done the wrong thing - and she hoped Mayhew wouldn't scold her terribly - but didn't really care.  She'd do it all over again, given the chance - and Hew would know that about her, too.  She knew her own mind and the chance to speak in her native tongue and have some sort of contact with her home lands had been far too attractive to resist!

[Trillian]

Mayhew was indeed on his way, with three of his monarchial companions in tow.  The prudish and opinionated Lord Rainer who was in charge of informing Mayhew what lay in the royal coffers, the older and quieter Sir Coveney who had been his father's long and most trusted social adviser, and Lady Shay, who was a source of information moreso than a formal advisor.  It was she who'd interrupted Mayhew in the sitting room to tell him that the Queen had been sighted heading for the meeting room where Mayhew's french cousin Guillame was waiting for him.  She left it unsaid that the Queen was likely to charge ahead rather than waiting for the proper manner of presenting oneself, but Mayhew's grim expression told her she didn't need to.

"Then I shall not tarry," he said, standing.  Phinneus wasn't in the room, thank goodness, for likely he'd make a sharp and unwelcome comment.  Hew left, inviting Rainer and Coveney with him, while the Lady invited herself.  Hew didn't bother to send her away, for she was a beautiful woman who normally charmed everyone she met with her educated social graces.  Coveney often praised her when she was in their company but warned Hew to be wary of her though to keep her close at hand, when she was not.

A guard stationed in front of the doors leading to the room where Guillaume and Rochelle sat together opened them for the King and his counsel, and as Hew stepped in, he saw that Rochelle had obviously come here on her own, without any of her court ladies.  His grim expression returned for a moment before it fled from his face and he smiled warmly.

"Guillaume, it's been a long while since your last visit," he said, striding over to his cousin and choosing to forsake any cordial requirements.  He glanced at his wife for the briefest moment while on his way to greet Guillaume as informally as possible.  Behind him he could hear a soft disapproving noise that likely came from Rainer.

[Saiketsu]

He and Jean-Luc did as they were instructed, sitting after the Queen had done so. "Your Majesty will forgive me for correcting her, I hope. The duke is my father's brother, not my father as the Queen has suggested. A common mistake, madam," he said smiling. It was true that commonly he was referred to as the heir of Toulouse, though no such thing was like to happen. While Raymond may have had no children of his own, there were still at least seven first cousins in the way of Michel's children to ever consider sitting of the throne of Toulouse. "In fact, my uncle has no heir of his own and has, I assume, taken a liking to his nephews in his children's absense, a duty I happily oblige."

But before he could respond to her and explain how goodly their home country was faring, the doors opened yet again, and Guillaume stopped his statement immediately before it was about to roll off of his tongue. As the King entered, he stood out of respect, and that knot tightened all over again.

There was Mayhew, his distant young cousin, whom he had played with and rode a horse with over ten years ago. He was the same boy whom Julien had tried to strike on the head and been punished for with a beating by their father, Michel deToulouse, back when none of Michel's sons understood what Mayhew was to become. Now, he stood before Guillaume as a man, a king. And just as Guillaume had expected, his face had changed, lengthened to a more manish size, though it still held a boyish charm. He could see hair beneath the skin on Mayhew's face, something that he had never seen on his face before and had forgotten would be there. Certainly he was the same, though a different height, one that more than challenged Guillaume's (to Guillaume's great surprise). His clothing had become more regal, as he was King now, and he wasn't expecting it. In fact his entire visage took him by surprise, as did the counsel behind him.

"King Mayhew Kestrel, I presume," he said with a smile and, without thinking, embraced his cousin warmly as if he were a boy again. When he opened his eyes upon the men and woman standing behind him, the appalled looks on their faces, told him that he shouldn't have done that. But he was family, and the King himself had every right to criticize him if the need found him (though he hoped it would not).

[Trillian]

Hew hugged him back, knowing that he would hear a great and lengthy discourse from each of his advisors of the many reasons why certain protocols were in place for meeting and greeting visitors according to their station.  A pox on them, because this was a great deal easier.  Damn Rochelle, for forcing him into this, but he would defend her actions to his counsel as heartily as he would now be defending his own.

He quirked a brow at the presumption, wondering if Guillaume had forgotten so quickly their childish time together when he'd visited with family.  Many years ago, and a short visit, but surely he still remembered that Hew hadn't been elitist.  His sisters had kept to themselves, and they were now away from the palace with their mother at the summer estate.  Otherwise they would also be here meeting and greeting.

"Back when I was prince, I invited you to call me Hew," he replied with a sideways grin once they embrace was ended and they were looking at one another.  "Other than my title, not much has changed, so the invitation still stands."

This was rubbish, of course, for a great deal had changed, but the conversation ran smoothest this way.

"I see you've met my lovely wife," he said, only glancing at her briefly before his smiling expression returned to Guillaume.  "Now you have someone to speak your mother tongue with."  Hew also knew a great deal of French, thanks to his lessons and further instruction from Rochelle.

[Existentially Odd]

The queen had tensed up when she caught Mayhew's first glance in her direction and even though he was smiling after a second, she knew she'd made a grave mistake.  She had no idea he was covering for her by acting just as rashly, for it all seemed an acceptable greeting for family (in her humble opinion) but she knew that things weren't comfortable.  A glance beyond Hew to his counsel confirmed that and she attempted to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.  Hew's anger she could bear but his advisors were numerous and scalding in their remarks and she wouldn't bear up well if they decided to reprimand her.

The best she could hope for was that her husband would take up the end of the settee she'd left vacant specifically for him to fill so that he could chat with his brethren for such a long time the scowling counsel would get bored and move along.  Really, what did they need to be here for?  To advise Hew on how many grains of truth his distant cousin seemed to be dealing with his words?  What did it matter to them... vultures that they were, ready to pick over the carcasses of any bits of fun left laying around (especially her carcass, when she was reported for sunning herself in the maze or playing football games with the servants' children on the lawns)!

Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Rochelle allowed the gentlemen to greet one another, lest she be criticised for interrupting insolently as well.  Truthfully, she had nothing valuable to add, since she wanted to listen more than talk, but she wanted to be seen to be doing the right thing as much she could.  Belatedly, anyway.  She sat up a little straighter, pulling her shoulders back and subtly ensuring her ankles were appropriately crossed beneath her skirts, her charcoal-shadowed hands folded primly upon her lap (hopeflly so that none of the stains she couldn't remove would show, for she'd be told yet again that she should wear gloves while she practised her art and they wouldn't hear her complaints that the material disabled her sensitivity to the medium's nuances and control).

She blushed automatically when Hew called her his 'lovely wife' and her lip came away from her teeth so that she could smile demurely at his profile.  "Not that you do a bad job yourself, my darling," she inserted huskily in French, complimenting Hew's efforts to learn said mother tongue and better help her settle in.  It had come about predominantly in the last few months, but she was not going to question it.  She loved him for trying to make her feel loved and appreciated and she wouldn't admit thoughts of filthy scoundrels motivating such a selfless and wonderful gesture.  Such beasts didn't even deserve time in her thoughts, quite frankly.

[Saiketsu]

"Ah yes," Guillaume said in French, righting himself and his appearance to one that was a more appropriate one to his current relation to Hew, the King. "Queen Rochelle had welcomed me unto the palace in your good name." As soon as he had brought about this bit of knowledge, he watched the council trade a sly look with each other behind Mayhew's back. It made that slack, nearly relaxed feeling in Guillaume's chest tighten a little bit. He had thought nothing of Queen Rochelle's actions of greeting him - in fact he was too worried about what he must have looked like to this new person and hadn't even noticed that she had entered entirely alone. The Queen of France still moved about her palace like she wanted to and none of her council said anything to her. At least to Guillaume, it had appeared that nobody thought anything differently of the Queen of France than what she allowed everyone to think.

Guillaume was also mildly surprised that he had been learning French, though he shouldn't have been, he knew. It only made sense that Rochelle had been encouraging his learning - which the ambassador was glad to see. When he was younger, Guillaume had communicated with the boy in English, as he was the one who had been raised knowing two different languages. In an oddly pleasant way, one that he wouldn't let either of them know, he enjoyed how the tables had turned.

"I had forgotten that the lady of the house spoke French until she greeted me," Guillaume continued with a sense of confidence and formal cordiality returning to his tone. "I was so prepared to speak English that I almost hadn't understood her when she greeted me in my native tongue!"

[Trillian]

Hew smiled politely and nodded, glancing between his cousin and his wife.  He had no doubt that if he weren't here, the two of them would've been nattering to one another in rapid French, in a manner he wouldn't properly understand.  He felt the hairs on his nape prickle due to his knowledge that some of his counsel was behind him and got quite suddenly cross with their presence.  It was almost as though he'd read Rochelle's mind, for he jumped on the same wavelength as he turned to face them.

"I'm sure I don't need you here to watch me catch up with my relative," he said, mostly to Rainer, but his eyes darted to appeal to Coveney as well.  He'd expected a moue of disgust from Rainer and nothing but a nod from Coveney, so when he received a blank expression from the former and disappointment in the face of the latter, he was surprised and second-guessing himself.

"But of course," Lady Shay said graciously, "though I did wish to see this cousin of yours from France, as the rumours of his fine appearance have preceeded him," she said with a knowing smile cast in Guillaume's direction, and did a tiny curtsey in his direction.  "I don't normally listen to rumours-" she began, and Hew thought it was likely because she mostly began them, "-but am pleased to report in this case they are quite right.  Your grace," she then curtsied to Hew, and nodded to Rochelle before departing the room.  Rainer followed behind her looking like a lost pup, while Coveney lingered, looking like he wanted a word.  Hew didn't oblige him and so he was forced to leave without saying more than 'as your majesty wishes', though he said it in such a way that told Hew he would hear discussion on it later.  He was sure Coveney would bring up some fine points, but Hew was King, and ultimately his word was to be followed.

With a relieved sigh, Hew looked at the remaining people in the room.

[Saiketsu]

As the lady exited, Guillaume felt his face flush a bit at her compliment. Out of his own shyness, he nodded at Lady Shay and smirked, and nothing more. He said nothing as Hew's envoy parted, feeling it too out of place to even respond to the woman for her comment as the rest of the company left. While the sense of relief washed through him that he would no longer be eyed by the King's advisors - in whichever way they looked at him -- Guillaume knew that his duty wasn't complete and that until he had completed it, the was business to attend to.

There was a brief moment of silence that lingered between the company present before the Frenchman broke the silence, addressing the King. "So, as you must be aware of, M. Francois and I have come to express our deepest condolences on behalf of the entire Toulousian family for the passing of your father, Hew." His words were scripted, having been practiced for several months since everyone had learned about the passing of King Morgan. This wasn't to say, however, that his words were not well meant. The Kestrel family was brethren to the Duke of Toulouse and his extended family - including Guillaume's own parents. It was a sad time indeed when he had learned of the misfortune while in Paris. The King of France himself had told Guillaume of his passing and Guillaume had written a letter back to his uncle to inform him. "Your loyal friend, the King of France, also sends his well-wishes and sympathy in your time of need.

"He also sends you his congratulations on your marriage and coronation." Guillaume added with a small smile, hoping to lighten the air. He figured that Hew was probably sick of messengers grieving for his sake over the loss of his father after many months. "Both Charles and Raymond wish for you to know that they stand by your side and the side of Elaria, as strongly as they ever have for your father."

[Existentially Odd]

Roche watched her husband as the formal greeting was repeated and she noted a familiar glazed look coming over his eyes as he nodded polite acceptance.  He had, indeed, heard it all hundreds of times before and yet none of it could touch on the true face of Hew's sorrow.  None would ever know that but she, in all likelihood, but she rather liked that she knew something so personal about her husband (despite understanding what a tragedy it was that his father had passed over into the next realm with anger shared between he and his son, rather than forgiveness and understanding).

"Come now," she interrupted briskly, "I already accepted the formalities on Hew's behalf, there's no need to repeat them ad nauseum."  Her words were softened by a light-hearted tone and an encouraging smile as she swept a graceful arm before her, indicating both halves of the settee she and Monsieur Francois were occupying.  Her expression was eager once more.

"Sit, both of you, so that we can find out more about exactly where Lord deToulouse and his... advisor plan to stand while in Elaria.  Are you interested in accommodation here at the palace, gentlemen?  How long do you think you will stay?" Rochelle asked with obvious interest, rather hoping they would be guests of the kingdom for at least a small while, so that she might get that little bit of extra contact with home.  She wasn't quite sure what to call the rather silent man in Lord deToulouse's company, so chose mildly, hoping not to offend with the term 'advisor'.  She anticipated she would be corrected on the matter, if it was too inaccurate a term to bear!

[Trillian]

Hew threw Roche a grateful look when she briskly interrupted his need for a response.  He was happy enough to let her take over.  He knew he should be putting more effort into this meeting, and he was interested in hearing from his cousin, (and doubly glad his advisors were gone), but now that it was only a small group of them (and honestly, he wanted Guillame's assistant or aide or whatever he was, gone too) he was all too glad to drop the formality.

He sat when he was bid, choosing the harder cushioned armchair because it's high hard back stopped him slouching, and because there was a french piece of furniture opposite that he thought Guillaume would be happier with.

"Oh yes, there's always room for you to stay here at the palace," he interjected.

He knew Rochelle had undercut him by visiting with his cousin before an official appointment could be made, and he'd disliked being shown up in front of his advisors, but he knew why she'd done it; he was so informal with her, so relaxed around her, that she likely forgot herself.  He would have to remind her, that appearances had to be maintained.  Not now, though, not with his French cousin - because he wouldn't tell on Hew, and would be going back to France before the advisors would be able to pull any criticisms from him.

Hopefully.

[Saiketsu]

Guillaume nodded at the Queen, though he still felt unable to fully drop his pretenses. Something about it seemed... improper. He felt his friend shift behind him and Guillaume also became too aware of his presense in the room. With Jean-Luc so near him, he felt a slight disfunction of his behavior - his inability to address Hew as his cousin, not his King.

"We most humbly thank you," he addressed the royal couple. "I am sure Monsiuer Francois will gladly make sure that all of our belongings have also arrived and have been placed wihin our rooms." He turned to his companion who nodded to the royal couple and bid his polite farewells to the King, Queen, and of course Guillaume as well. Once the Frenchman was led by one of the servants waiting just outside the room, Guillaume sat down and made himself a bit more comfortable in the King's presence.

"I expect that we shall only be here about two or three days, unless Talon has other plans for my companion and I," Guillaume said with an air of informality that now felt is if it were slowly becoming more natural. His sense of reserve still lingered a bit while Rochelle remained in the room. The queen was still very new to him and first impressions tended to linger longer than some friendships. The last thing that he wanted was for the new queen to not like Guillaume's presence.

"Madam Charlotte deToulouse Rainworth, my sister, lives in Helmsworth with her husband, Pascale Rainworth. I haven't seen her since my nephew was born almost a year ago. I intend to spend a few weeks with her afterwards."

[Existentially Odd]

Rochelle hid her disappointment that Hew didn't sit beside her on the two seater with a smile and watched the interplay between the two Frenchmen avidly.  Her disheartened expression was not so well hidden when told that Guillaume would only be in the palace for two or three days before moving on.  Visiting with his family was an excellent reason to do so, of course, but when she responded she spoke from a place of selfishness, wishing he were going to stay closer longer.

"Well, if it is to be such a short visit, we shall have to make the most of it!" she declared determinedly.  "What is it that you most enjoy to do with your time?" the queen persisted with somewhat awkward English, leaning forward slightly, her hands curling around her knees as she waited for an answer.  She resisted the urge to comment that Talon was no longer welcome within the walls of the monarchial home (since the ripples were still being felt from his last visit) because she didn't want to draw attention to the somewhat distasteful mention of a wrathful God she had no belief in.  Her eager expression was focussed solely on their visitor.