Queen Avila's hands were trembling under the table. She really did just behead her advisor, a person she'd once cared for. Lord Lysander has always been like an Uncle to her. She lifted a pale hand to adjust the golden crown upon her head. Make sure it wouldn't fall off her head in the middle of the feast. Though the feeling of her fingers on the cool precious metal circle did little to comfort her nerves.

To her left, sat her parents the former King and Queen, Laertes and Reyna. To their only daughter, they seemed the picture perfect face of a strong stable monarchy. But Avila felt shakier than an earthquake as if her pillars of control were about the crumble to dust. Her parents were chuckling about something. Her father's hand was on her mother cheek while her lips moved her words inaudible over the noise of the hall. It warmed her heart to see her parents so carefree, even if she knew it wouldn't last long.

"Avila, love do you suppose we should send someone out to look for Aline?" She looks at her other side to see Richard his eyes full earnest worry. Richard, Aline, and Avila had once been a tight knit group who spend endless hours in each others company. It had been hardest on Richard, she had no idea how hard it must be to have your two friends hate each other. How could he have chosen which friend to stay with? He'd obviously chosen.

"I am sure she merely is in request of the need for personal space after the execution of her kinsman." She says coolly, though her green eyes had chanced a sidelong gaze towards the door. That door being the one that which Aline had stormed through minutes before. "And don't call me love, I don't need my parents getting suspicious." It was stepping over several low scale boundaries, but Avila and Richard had been an under the radar couple for years. Ever since that very first night, they'd slept skin to skin, almost five if her calculation was correct, they'd sworn secrecy. At least until Avila confessed the details to her parents.

Since, she was the Queen of Fonceamour she'd have to find herself a proper consort, one day. Though she did not anticipate that day with much warmth. Likely it would be some son of a high lord or one of the two princes from Lumièreamour. Whom her father had a distant and rather strenuous connection with. Richard had all the proper traits of a King consort beside higher noble blood. Avila took to hiding her doubts about the future of their relationship because she did not wish to dampen it too soon. She believed her parents would refuse him the right. She'd never met either Prince Charles (the fact that he was a distant cousin did not help his case one bit) or King Adam. But she didn't have any faith that she would appreciate being in a relationship with either. Besides, a queen didn't need a King, unfortunately, society did not bode well with this logic.

"My sincere apologies my queen," nodding before returning to his thought. "The action of beheading him in itself was suspect. For the people will follow a queen who they love, not one who they fea-" an icy stare from her Majesty silenced him.

"I warrant that you shall not desire to complete your sentence. You may be my chief advisor but that does not mean you do not give unsound advice." To her ears, this sounded a bit harsh though her words harbored no ill intent. She simply was trying to maintain a facade of professionalism. Someone is always watching even when you are alone. Every word spoken must be calculated and analyzed. Be wary of trodding on sensitive territory. If you are principled, the people will learn to respect you, even if they do not support of reign. Her father's words of wisdom upon coronation proved to be helpful if not comforting.

"I do not ill-wish Aline." Richard, by many standards, was quite handsome with dark brown hair and soulful dark eyes.

"Lord Richard, high hopes lead to deeper disappointments. She has informed you, upon several occasions, to fetch yourself a less shrewish lady." Before Richard could reply Aline comes bolting in and looks around. Red-faced and out of breath, in her gray and blue gown, dark chocolate locks framing her face. "I did indeed inform you that she shall be of sound heart and mind." She looked smugly at her lover.

"You're not saying that because you're jealous?" he teased her. "No, but in all honesty Avila, I have never once regretted our relationship. Aline is a mere friend and I never once considered courting her - dealing with Lord Sebastian isn't worth it. I have sympathy for any man who tries. And besides, I'd rather like to think I choose the less shrewish lady already." Avila looks down at her plate, red painting her cheeks.

♔♔♔♔♔

As night settled around the palace like a soft sheepskin the celebration continued. Despite all her majesty finds little pleasure in it. It seemed like a constant flow of ranking nobles speaking meaningless gibberish. After a few hours of this mutiny, she grew rather bored with the whole affair. Queens do not feel bored. They feel blessed with the kindness and consideration of their guests. Avila glanced at Richard and coughed. He didn't blink an eye. She coughed again.

"Yes, my queen. Would you desire a cough drop per chance?" She raised a hand as if to cuff him on the side of his head.

"What was that for?" he demanded, sidestepping the blow with expertise. Violence was not something she usually utilized. Perhaps, it was not the wisest of moves, but Avila had little tolerance at the moment of formalities, humor or proper behavior. She did not do well under stress, which honestly was the worst part of being Queen, you always had something to stress about. If she grayed prematurely she would blink an eye.

"You make terrible attempts at humor. Have I not made it clear that you need not address me in that way? I get enough of that from everyone else as it is. We have some important matters to discuss." Her head spun because she had been addressed in this repetitive fashion, far too many times that evening. She required nothing more than the ability to run out of the event. If granted that acts she would go into her personal chambers to cry her eyes out. Unfortunately, queens didn't cry either.

"About what?" Richard plucked up a bone from his plate inspecting it with a careful eye. His inspect seemed in vain for he set down the bone and picked up another. His tone proved little to his mood, for it seemed he was neither upset nor happy at her cross words.

"About the new advisor position that was left open with convenience by Lord Lysander. Who shall take that seat?" Her fingers nervously tapped the edge of the wooden table, her eyes gazing off into the crowd. Her eyes searching, for something, Aline? She was not sure who had seemed to disappear again much to the queen's frustration. She turned once more to her friend.

"Seat? I don't think anyone would want to take that seat. Not after all that happened." Richard gazed down the table. His gaze focused on some other guests.

"Well, I must fill the spot. Have you any suggestions?" The jumpiness of her anxiety was starting to get the better of her and she could feel a ball of nerves growing tighter in her stomach. How much longer was she expected to be present for? Far too long, at least for her liking. "Can it please wait for tomorrow?" Her tone became whiny and Avila thanked the gods that her mother wasn't paying attentions. Her mother did not tolerate whining. You are not a baby or a small child, you are a young woman with the supreme rule over an entire country. If you are weak, then your country is weak.

"It is best for the country to have no vacant seats in my council." Richard, I love you but I would appreciate if you didn't sound so much like my mother. If only Avila could convey so much with a few good expressions, her mother could disclose thousands of words with one look. Avila knew her mother's speeches well enough that she could recite them if spurned.

"If you replace Lord Lysander too soon, the people are going to see you as a heartless monster." Richard's gaze returned to her, his voice lowered in council so as to not disturb the other guests.

"Think of it what you wish, Richard. I am not heartless, but practical and stoic in the wake of justice. You say this to me only for the sake of Aline, whose kinsman's treachery vacated the seat." Maybe again she was overreacting, but not even Richard could deny that Lord Lysander's actions were a travesty. One could not blame her. As her mother said, it would be weak to forgive him and it was strong to dispose of the threat.

"Don't tell me he didn't use to play with you. Because I very specifically remember the time you couldn't sleep because of a scary nightmare. He stayed up for hours talking to you until you finally feel asleep." Richard's words sparked memories she'd long forgotten. When she was little more than the princess, and not a Queen with a heavy burden, One evening, sometime past midnight she'd awoken from a dream, one that had scared her to the point of chattering teeth and an adrenaline rush. Whatever the dream was actually about, she could not think, but her cries had drawn the attention of Lysander. Aline asleep beside her did not budge at her cries, but Aline's uncle had comforted her.

Reminding her that morning would dawn bright, and that she had nothing to worry about. His soothing words had calmed her nerves and had her allowed to snuggle back beneath the cover beside her friend. She had slept the rest of night in peace. The memory brought shivers back.

"Speak not of that. He attempted to end my life." A coldness snuck into her voice. That memory had penetrated too deep and close to a wound that was still fresh in the world.

"I don't think it was personal." We must have very different definitions of personal then. More than I believed possible. Richard spoke with an authenticity that could not be avoided. Personal or not, that did not change Avila's former choices.

"Lysander tried to dispatch me and to install a puppet in my stead." To avoid the guilt that Richard would most likely bring, she tried to affirm her actions and beliefs. She was right, and Lord Lysander was wrong.

"Avila, darling-" he again broke off with her frown. "Avila, you know I didn't mean that. He's been raised his entire life to see men as being on top. It's rather unheard of to have a solo woman ruler." Was he defending the person who tried to murder her? This was outrageous! A flare of passionate anger bloomed in her chest. Where was the Richard who cared so deeply about her well-being?

"Rather unheard of? Rather? Don't play games with me Richard Rivière. You behave as though I had cold-heartedly cut off the head of someone as dear to me as a father. Lysander may have been as such when I was young, but here is now, and he has shown his true colors." True colors indeed. If these are your true color Richard, then I will be very disappointed in everything. Our friendship, and what we had beyond that. She paused considering what she was considering. She should not be angry at Richard, he was simply thinking about the best possible way for her and the country. That was his job. Advisors advised, but she didn't have to take his advice.

"Do you want to be known as the queen who didn't care about anyone save herself?" You are making this very challenging. I wish to not be cross with you, but you try my patience. What kind of person do you take me as? You know how many sleepless nights I spent trying to make good decisions. You call that caring for nobody but myself? Breath Avila, he does not mean it in that way. While attempting to heed to her own advice, she found trial.

"They know me as THE QUEEN. We have the right to be selfish sometimes. Why are you so vexed about Lysander's death? He was a snake. He would have betrayed us all, should we no longer serve his purposes." She fumed, before normalizing her voice, as she noticed several guest starring at her and Richard. Making a scene would not improve any part of this situation or soothe her injured feelings.

"I never said that. I sai..." Avila got up and raised her hands in protest. She had enough, she would not let her temper, tiredness or terrific esurient get the better handle of her control.

"I am done with you. This exchange of words and philosophies prove tiring. I shall be a bed shortly. Good night, Richard." Rising from the chair, smoothing the skirts of her red and black gown. She nodded to her parents before walking towards the door.