Crowns Before Vows (Ihaveprobs X A'zaia)

[ihaveprobs]

Duke Kellington had been sitting at his desk in his study when one of his best messengers arrived. Motioning for the younger man to take a seat while he waited, the Duke went back to work on finishing the letter he was writing to some of the lower lords of the kingdom. Strong strokes on the paper with elegant curves told of preparation for possible war. The kingdom was at unrest. With his brother, King Harold, taken ill, and his queen too fragile to carry an heir, the looming possibility of the throne sat heavily on his shoulders. Finishing the letter he fanned it a bit to help quicken the ink’s drying. Carefully placing the letter in an envelope and sealing it with wax and his ring’s seal of his family’s crest he inspected the wax for proper setting. The crest of a shield with a stag and sword was well embedded into the quickly hardening wax. He handed the letter over to the awaiting messenger. “Take this to Lord Ellot. Make sure it touches no other’s hands.” He warned with steeled blue eyes before signaling for the messenger to take his leave.


Looking out his glass window, he watched the servants working down in the courtyard. They were scrambling to finish their tasks before the coming storm later this evening. This year had been kind to his lands. The rains had been plentiful, and since marrying Lady Isabel their nation had not seen any more war. He had to wonder however, how long could this cease fire truly last? True, his marriage had been part of the peace treaty, but there had been other’s before this one. None of them had lasted long either; their people hated each other and nothing could change that. No, he wasn’t fool enough to believe that a marriage between a duke and a spare princess playing house in a war fort would ever make the people forget those they had lost to the war.


Backing away from the cobblestone wall and window, he left his vast study and began walking towards Lady Isabel’s chambers. He had not even bothered to see his wife since she had arrived here. In all honesty, she was of little consequence to him and he barely knew the woman. She was fair enough to behold, but he had been with fairer. It was no secret that he had a vast collection of woman to choose from should he want company in his bed; it was also no secret that his wife was not one of them.


The only times he had seen his wife was when they passed in the halls. Even then they would only give each other polite greetings before continuing on their way. His lack of interaction with his wife did not however mean that he was unaware of her doings. Each handmaid and guard that was to tend to her every need constantly reported her day in detail every evening to him. He did not trust the Princess. As much as she was a sacrifice while both nations took a breath from the war, she was also just as much in a position to provide crippling information as a spy.


He didn’t bother to knock on the door to announce his entrance. He was the lord of this fort and as such felt no need to bother with such courtesies. Ladies in waiting gasped as Duke strode into the room. Words didn't need to be exchanged for them to stop what they were doing and quickly leave the room.


Lady Isabel's chambers were fitting for her station of Duchess. Much more vast than any mere knight's wife, it was decorated with only the finest of embroideries and silks. Iron bar decorated glass windows would let light into the otherwise dark stone room. Iron bars that doubled as a safety measure if the fort was ever under siege.

 

[A'zaia]

Lady Isabel had spent her day in a similar fashion to every other day she had wandered through in the past two months since marrying the duke. In the morning the little spies that served as her ladies in waiting helped her rise and dress for the day. She ate a small breakfast alone; the Duke never joined her for meals, something that did not bother her in the slightest. Even just seeing him in passing was enough to fan the flames of her fury into an inferno of hatred. Her loyalty to her parents, the King and Queen, was the only reason why she was still living in a country she despised and whose people despised her in kind.


While she was eating what passed for breakfast in her new accursed home, a courier arrived with a message from her brother, Prince Solomon. The courier presented her with the letter that she could see had been tampered with. The seal had been broken to allow someone to read the letter within and they hadn't even bothered to hide the intrusion. She couldn't be sure if it was her husband or just one of his minions. It mattered not, they would not have been able to read the letter, which made Isabel smile. She had always been very close with her youngest brother, he was only a year older than her, and as children they had invented their own secret language so they could communicate things their tutors would have frowned upon. She read it now with ease.


'Greetings, beloved sister. I hope this letter finds you well in your foreign prison. Forgive me for not writing to you sooner. I wish I could give you favorable news but alas I do not bear glad tidings. My dear wife has since departed this life leaving me alone in world. I long for your companionship, Isabel. If you are able to convince your brute of a husband father has given me leave to visit you. My mission would be to check on the strength of the treaty but I would furthermore be able to give you council regarding your most precarious situation. Send word as soon as possible. Your devoted brother, Solomon.'


With a smile Isabel tucked the letter away in her bodice and abandoned her meal. She traveled through the halls back to her personal chambers. They were just as lavish as the chambers she had enjoyed in her own country. If she was honest with herself some of the fabrics were softer than she had ever known. When she wasn't being hounded by her keepers she even quite enjoyed the solitude of her chambers. However that would not be the case today: all six of her ladies in waiting were standing ready when she entered her room.


Isabel ignored them at first, going straight to her small writing desk to compose a letter to Solomon. She could feel one of the bolder ladies in waiting hovering at her elbow. Surely she was attempting to read the letter she was writing. It did not take long for the girl to give up; there was no hope for her to decipher the words in any case. Once the letter was complete she sealed it with wax and sent it off with a servant she called in from the hall.


For the rest of the day she let her maids amuse her with song and poetry. When she tired of that she read a few passages from her favorite book before allowing them to draw her a hot bath. The hot water helped ease away some of the day’s tensions but it didn't erase them completely. Her ladies in waiting had just helped her into a gown suitable for dinner when the Duke barged in. The servants fled like the spineless individuals they were.


“Why, dear husband! To what do I owe the splendid honor of your presence on this lovely evening?” Isabel questioned in a polite but strained voice.

 

[ihaveprobs]

The duke looked at his wife’s appearance for a moment or two of silence. Her hair was still damp from her recent bath. He knew if he had come in much sooner than he would have been treated to a very different sight than the one of her evening dress. His gaze rested briefly on her stomach, calculating and inspecting. Satisfied with what he didn’t see he turned his eyes towards one of the windows. The curtains were drawn back letting in some of the last hours of daylight though the rain clouds were quickly stealing those moments away. Casually he walked over to one of the open chairs the ladies in waiting had fled from. “Does a husband need a reason to visit his wife in his own home?” he asked with a voice like dark honey and raised brow. Daring her to question his authority.


Picking up a fire poker from his seated position he gently nudged the small flame in the fire place to burn a little brighter. Outside the rain started to lightly hit the window with small and steady beats. “We have lived under the same stones months past and still know nothing of the other.” Elric looked back at Isabel as the flames from the fire casting hard shadows upon his face. “Sit with me.” he ordered her. “We shall dine together here tonight. The cooks have already been informed.” She said leaving her little option of escape.


With recent developments the Duke knew he would have to evaluate his possibilities. With his brother’s illness, he no longer had the option to wait for the peace treaty to fail. He needed a wife now, and he so happened to already have one of royal birth tied to him. The risks involved with using her were still to be measured however. A measurement he couldn’t leave in another man's hands.

 

[A'zaia]

She watched her husband’s expression with cold calculation in her eyes. Something must have happened to bring about this sudden change in his habits. Before tonight he had been perfectly content to ignore her almost completely. She had the sinking feeling that the Duke must need something from her. Outrage at his audacity blossomed within her but she knew her place. With difficulty she swallowed her pride and smiled at the Duke.


“I meant nothing by it, my honorable husband,” Isabel said with refinement. “I only assumed you were occupied by matters of your station,” she added with a knowing look. Yes, the Duke had certainly been busy. From what she had been able to piece together he had many women frequenting his chambers; whores and harlots she suspected but it wasn't beyond the realms of possibilities that even her own ladies in waiting assisted in keeping her husband’s bed warm.


“This shall be such a pleasing departure from my usual dinner audience,” Isabel replied as she joined Elric at the small dining table. It would in fact be quite the opposite of pleasing company, she preferred the silence, but she needed to play her part if she were to survive in the Duke’s court. She sat to his left, customary in her country, facing the now dancing fire. With the light beyond the windows of the fort failing a servant boy entered and lit the candelabras about her chambers. The boy departed when the room was sufficiently bright leaving Isabel once more alone beneath her husband’s watchful eye. She looked to him and waiting patiently for him to direct conversation as it was not her place to do so.

 

[ihaveprobs]

The Duke smirked bitterly. He knew his presence was just as welcomed to her as if she were dining among swine. His spies had told him of her views towards their marriage long before they had spoken their empty vows. The princess’s childish love for another man was not unknown to him. It was one of the reasons he had avoided touching her. If she showed signs of pregnancy there would be no doubt about whom the child belonged. He refused to raise another man’s child.


Waiting till the servant boy had left, the Duke continued their conversation. “Matters of the land have been placed on hold for the time being. Too long they have kept my wife’s possible concerns at bay.” He stated courtly. “I trust that the servants have been properly attending to your needs?” He inquired in polite conversation. He looked over her dress again. “It certainly seems you’ve made use of the tailors’ skills.”


A knock on the door let the Duke know that dinner had arrived. Calling out to let the servants in he could hear the gossip occurring outside as they opened the doors. Before the gossip had always been about how he had ignored his wife. Many of the servants had been in favor of him not acknowledging the foreign princess. The bad blood between the two nations that swayed their opinion of the princess was still strong and fresh. Now it seemed having a private dinner with her was as if it were a great scandal.


The servants carefully placed the plates down and watched the two royals under hidden glances, hoping to see something between them to add to the servant's gossip circles. The duke revealed nothing to them. The only rumors he would feed in his home were the ones he wished leaked. He wasn't fool enough to not know that his home had spies of it own within it's walls. After the meal of smoked fish had been properly placed the Duke dismissed the servants.

 

[A'zaia]

Isabel wasn't aware that the Duke held knowledge about the love she had shared with Lord Oswyn. Had she stopped to think about it, she probably wouldn't be surprised to discover his spies had ferreted out her little secret. Her husband’s fear of another man’s child growing within her was unfounded. As lucky as men were in this period to be able to partake in the joys of flesh, women, even royalty like Isabel, did not share their fortune. Had Isabel lain with the man she loved without being married to him it would have shattered her honor. She would have been disowned by her family, and the respect and loyalty she still held for her parents would never allow her to betray their trust in such a way.


She had intended whole-heartedly to give herself to Oswyn; he had even petitioned the King for her hand in marriage. It’s possible that had the peace treaty not been signed and sealed with her hand, Isabel could be married to Oswyn, expecting his first child. She dreamt of such a life nearly every night, but it was only that, a dream. She was trapped with the Duke, trapped in a loveless marriage with an unfaithful man... All because of a sham of a cease fire between their countries.


Isabel smiled in response to Elric’s pleasantries but chose to keep her nose out of his business. Being a noticeably inquisitive wife would win her no favor, especially with the Duke. It was not that she sought favor but he could easily make her life much more difficult if he angered him. “The servants have been most accommodating. Thank you for asking, my husband,” Isabel responded at least half-heartedly. “Yes, I admit I have indulged in a few dresses. The textiles you have in your country are very luxurious. I hope I have not inconvenienced you in any way, my Lord.” The last part wasn't truthful but she was honestly fond of the clothes and the draperies in her chambers.


She was glad for the reprieve in conversation the smoked fish would prove but she knew she needed to extend some courtesy in return. Taking the goblet of wine the servant had placed before her she raised it in Elric’s direction. “A toast? To peace and plenty, my Lord,” she exclaimed with a charming smile as she waited for her husband’s response.

 

[ihaveprobs]

Elric gave a slight nod of his head as he raised his glass. “To peace and plenty Milady.” He agreed before taking a small sip of the wine and setting it back down in favor of water. Outside thunder started rolling in with the storms. The duke paid them little mind as he cut into his smoked salmon.


Savoring the bite for a moment, he swallowed and looked at Isabel. “Tell me truthfully,” the duke started. “How long do you believe this peace will last?” The duke took another sip of his water but did not waver his sight from her. In a slightly morbid way, he wanted to see how long it took for her mask of pleasantness to slip. What would be the topic that would reveal her true nature? He had all night tonight and for however long it would take to figure it out.


Given the circumstances he was sure their marriage itself was a sore spot for the former princess. Everyone knew that she had been no more than a sacrificial lamb in this war. The peace treaty would undoubtedly fail. When it did she would no longer be a romantic notation that love could end the war. Such fantasies peasants and noble ladies dreamed about. No, she would become a prisoner of war that had been hand delivered in a white dress. Already she was viewed with disdain as a spy for her father and his armies. The possibility of her fate was truly horrible if the duke decided against protecting her. None of his citizens would judge him if he divorced and hanged her just for her birth right. If he were a lesser man, her fate might even be left to nights with his troops. While he was above letting his name be associated with such acts as that, he was not above using her for a bartering tool in this war. To him, she was a mere pawn in this game of war.


None of these fleeting thoughts bothered the duke in the least as he cut into his meal again while waiting for his wife’s response. No emotion fleeted across his face besides cold calculations.

 

[A'zaia]

Isabel took a generous sip of her wine once Elric echoed her toast. She watched her husband carefully out of the corner of her eye as he took but a small sip of wine. It would appear that the Duke was not a drinking man. Filing the information away, Isabel took another sip of wine before she started into her meal.


The smoked salmon was exceptional; if she was a better woman she would give her compliments to the cook, but she would not be the one to rise above the animosity between their two countries. She would permit Elric to continue to spy on her and let his servants gossip about her. She had nothing to hide after all. Her father, the King, had cast her out; banished to the one foreign country he hated more than anywhere else in the world. His own daughter, bartered like chattel, for a peace she was well aware he did not care about at all. He had his own plans for the Duke’s country and she knew peace was not featured in any of them.


Her husband’s question threw her for a moment with its perception. It was as if the Duke had just been reading her mind but she masked her surprise well. She took a sip of wine to wash away the last bite of salmon before she turned to look the Duke squarely in the eye. “Truthfully, my Lord,” Isabel began, “I fear the peace will fail. How soon… I cannot predict. The marriage of my father’s youngest child to his rival’s brother hardly speaks of confidence. Our peoples despise each other and our marriage hasn't softened their hearts by even a fraction. I believe the only way this peace will last is with the guidance of a strong leader, something I fear your brother is no longer capable of being.”


Isabel watched her husband carefully for any sign that she had severely overstepped her bounds. He had asked for her opinion, and she had answered him candidly. She suspected that he didn't trust the peace to last any longer than she did. That was the only explanation for his sudden interest in her. He knew his brother’s rule was weak, and if the King were to succumb to his illness than the Duke would be next in line for the throne. A foreign princess married to a King would be able to forge a stronger peace between their countries. As she watched Elric, Isabel wondered if he had already thought of that.

 

[ihaveprobs]

The smile that the Duke gave to her was not the sweet ones of a lover; instead it was darker and held pleased promises in it. “So you have heard of my brother’s illness. I wondered how far the rumors had spread.” In truth, he was pleased with her knowledge and view on the subject. It was both reassuring and troubling that he had not been saddled with a foolish dreamer for a wife. He had no desire to have to deal with a fool. At the same time, the fact that she was not as foolish as once believed meant that he would have to be more watchful over her. His wife she may be, but in the end, she was still an enemy of his country. He wouldn’t doubt that given the chance and a sure escape route she wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat.


Turning his attention back to his meal he continued their conversation. “Since you have decided to grace me with your honest opinion thus far, enlighten me. Do you even wish for peace between our countries?” Elric smiled at her deviously. “I don’t.” he admitted openly to her. “I don’t even think this peace will last another two moon cycles. Our marriage won’t bring mourning fathers their sons back from the grave. It won’t erase a history of bloodshed and hatred. All this marriage has done is given both countries a chance to catch their breath while they sharpen their swords.” In this room there were no servants or ears of spies to listen in to his admission besides the one sitting beside him. He knew when dealing with someone you needed to honest from, sometimes you had to give your honesty back.


He wanted the princess to continue to be open with him without fear of overstepping bounds. Bounds that only hindered the true character underneath he needed to see before he made any decisions. Killing one’s spouse was not to be a rash decision. He would have to wait till the war broke out again and see if she could be trusted enough to not dagger him in his sleep by that time. If not, she would be a different kind of pawn for him. One he would quickly be rid of so he would be free to wed a different woman to help him over throw his brother’s throne.

 

[A'zaia]

Isabel sipped her wine with a smile. Her husband was proving to be more intriguing than she had dared thought. She could tell from his smile that he had some dark aspirations. Isabel had not anticipated finding someone of like mind in her exile. “Yes, even your sequestered wife has heard the whispers of your ailing brother,” Isabel began with a dark smile. She had been hearing the whispers around every corner of her prison. The servants had been whispering for days; but that was hardly the most interesting part of their gossip.


“I realized once I had been bartered to you in this sham of a peace treaty that I was never going to get out of this country alive. Whether it is by your hand or your people’s I imagine I will meet my demise here. For me it doesn't matter if the peace lasts or not,” Isabel said. She’d chosen her words carefully so far but she still had much to say. Gracefully she rose from her seat to retrieve the decanter of wine from the sideboard. Once she had replenished her goblet she sat back down, this time purposefully positioning herself closer to the Duke. “I believe what truly matters is if I can make myself valuable; if I can make a place for myself here. Since I value my life, despite how much I despise it here I suppose I should share what else I have heard the servants whispering in the halls.”


“I know the queen is barren. Your brother will die with no heir to the throne, something that has led to the demise of many a country. Of course the King’s dear brother would take the throne to keep the country from falling into chaos but it wouldn't be a strong rule. It would be a rule of convenience. However if you were to produce a legitimate male heir your reign would be strengthened immeasurably. With a line of successors you would become a worthy monarch. I do believe that is what you want, is it not my husband?” Isabel asked.

 

[ihaveprobs]

The duke leaned back in his chair as he reevaluated the woman in front of him. She was much more cunning and quick than he had given her credit for. Something one would need when plotting to over throw a kingdom. “Perhaps.” He admitted casually. Lightening and thundering roared outside lighting up the room for a brief second. The harsh lighting helped the duke better see the predator in his wife. How fitting, he thought, that two predators had been pushed together at such timing. Smirking he leaned in on the table to be closer to the woman. “Tell me princess, would you be able to give me such a line? Give birth to children of a man you loath? Leave behind all notions of rejoining your family and birth country? If you go down this road, there is no turning back. ”


Receding back to his chair he let the information sink in for a moment. Wanting to know what her answer would be when given an option he continued as he lifted his water. “However, I have left you untouched this entire time we have known each other. I am a generous man.” He took a sip, prolonging his offer to gather her attention. “If you were to ask it of me, I will continue to let you live your life as such it has been this past two months until the war breaks out. At that time I would be willing to barter our divorce and your return to your kingdom. If you live through the ordeal,” he paused, not wanting to promise her life. “You would be free to marry any man of your choosing, if they would still have you that is. Having never truly sealed our marriage, I don’t even believe a priest could argue.” Elric shrugged nonchalantly.


His eyes darkened as he looked into Isabel’s again and smirked. “But do you want to be a lowly lord’s meek wife, waiting for him to tire of you as you grow old, or do you want to be queen?” he asked her seeming every bit a devil in disguise bartering for her soul.