Thread: Distrust & Intentions || Prodi & Mach

See more ---------------------------------------- She slowly unwrapped from him, and he was reminded that none of this had been their choice. That none of the passion in that moment had truly been real - except for that kiss. She didn't have to let him kiss her, but she had. That moment of intimacy in the mandated sexual encounter. As she pressed lightly on his shoulders, he leaned back and slowly withdrew from her, moving to lay into the bed next to her. His hand slid into hers, hoping to provide some semblance of support. Now we rest. Get some sleep, and deal what the day brings. He said simply, a soft sigh leaving him, a sigh of conflicted thoughts and of tired sensations. No doubt their relations would become the centerpoint of the day to come, but for now, all that he could think of was how he was now caught in a marriage based in betrayal and coercion. Perhaps they would be able to move past this eventually, but he was fairly certain it would take a significant time before Charlotte could trust him. Did she even want to try, however? Did she still see him as the playboy hedonist he'd been these past years? Did she still believe he'd only wanted her for sex and to satisfy his desires? He wanted his best friend back, his childhood desire, but is that what he'd gained tonight? ---------------------------------------- Charlotte was startled by the feeling of him pulling out of her, adverting her gaze immediately. He moved away entirely, a rush of cool air replacing the warmth of his body on top of hers. This situation hadn't been her choice, but the sudden emptiness was very real. Even still, laying in bed with him, both still totally naked...every urge for propriety within her was panicking. Together? She asked, turning to look at him again when he said they would rest. But she didn't press it as he told her to sleep. Of course it wasn't proper, but what part of this situation was? And what did she want? A room of her own? The idea of being alone now in such an unfamiliar place was even more terrifying. Admittedly, she knew she would feel much safer here with him. But as the silence hung between them, she tried desperately to relax, still stiff as board. She held it in for as long as she could I can't do this. It blurted out of her and she sat up, an arm over her chest. Her hand pulled out of his as she climbed off of the bed, and relief flooded her as she picked up her nightgown, slipping it back on. Was it silly of her? No doubt. But she couldn't help it, she'd never once slept naked in her life and she certainly couldn't do so next to a naked Maximilian. Not a word from you. Letting out a satisfied sigh, she gingerly got back into bed, this time under the covers to make a comfortable distance between them. But she did not turn her back on him, instead turning her body in his direction, looking over at him. What was he thinking about? Sometimes he was as transparent as water to her, and other times he was like a wall. Or he had been, once. It dawned on her then that she was looking at her future-husband. From children, to teenagers, to now...technically engaged. Max would have had to marry eventually, but was marriage even something he wanted? His life-long behavior gave every indication that it was the last thing he would want. So was she getting a husband who didn't even want a wife? It was a less than comforting thought considering she was still throbbing from having him inside of her. Did such a political marriage mean that he would continue to take women on the side, and do whatever he pleased? It was no where near the reality she had hoped for herself, and it tightened her chest to think of it. So instead, she shut her eyes. Despite it all, despite everything, her forced-journey had worn her out, and she was sound asleep within moments. ---------------------------------------- He lay back and simply watched her for a moment, as she reacted to the idea of sleeping together and began to move from the bed. A simple nod answered that question, and she didn't contest that point any further, instead fetching her nightgown from the floor. As she glanced back over at him and forbade a comment, he smiled a small smile. As you wish, m'lady. he said simply, a note of light humor in his tone and she returned to the bed. He had expected her to lay with her back to him, facing away, keeping herself from facing what had happened. But instead she lay looking at him, and he simply reached over and took her hand in his. He didn't say anything, letting the gesture simply be what it was - an offering, a promise of togetherness. After all, they were in this together now, and he had no interest in simply letting this be a political sham of a marriage, a shell. If nothing else, they could be friends in life. In some sense, he simply wanted his best friend back. Her eyes slid closed and somehow he was sure she was drifting off, and his otherhand reached out and turned the knob on the lantern, the wick extinguishing in a soft puff, the room sinking into darkness, lit only by the moon through the large, tall windows. Those windows let in the late morning sun when he awoke again, at what must have been noon. Carefully rolling out of bed, so as to not disturb Charlotte, he donned a black tunic and trousers before slipping on his leather boots and leaving the room. He locked the door behind him, taking care to use the lock that could be opened from the inside - he didn't want her to feel like a prisoner, but he also wanted to keep her safe and out of sight from much of the castle. He made his way downstairs to the main hall, then back toward the kitchens, where he stopped a servant. Gathering up a platter of fruits and breads, he then began the return trip before he ran into his father. The King was perhaps fifty, with a carefully trimmed beard and silver hair, combined with green eyes that matched Maximilian's. He was dressed in the black and white garments of the royal family, and the silver band that was the simple version of his crown sat at his temples. My son. He said simply, in what was evidently a greeting. Maximilian barely reacted, giving a little bow. Father. Good morning. Is it? Did you do as I instructed? Maximilian almost rolled his eyes at the man. Yes, I did, Father. Though you'll have to take my word for it. Somehow I didn't think having guards watch our intimate acts would endear me to my future wife. He scoffed. The older man's face fell into hard lines. Your comfort and hers aren't the things at stake here. Our kingdoms need this, whether the two of you like it or not. Now go wake her, and get ready yourself. It's very likely her parents are headed this direction now. I'll have clothes brought for her, but take care she's kept out of sight. Not that having women's clothing delivered to your rooms is anything unusual. Without waiting for a retort, the King strode away, leaving Maximilian miffed, but silent. He climbed the stairs, wishing his father wasn't quite so correct about so many things. ---------------------------------------- Charlotte had slept like the dead, never stirring once. Finally it was the light of day, bright and warm throughout the room, that woke her. Her mind woke before her body, and she lay completely still as every memory from the night before returned to her. It created a tight and sick feeling in her stomach to remember. Forcing herself to open her eyes, she sat up, looking around to discover herself alone. Maximilian had left her? Her eyes looked warily at the door, terrified at the idea of stepping foot out of the room. For one, she was in night clothes, not fit for going anywhere. She lifted her knees to her chest, pulling the covers up with her. No, she couldn't go anywhere. What if she was seen? Her heart practically stopped at the thought of a maid coming in to tidy his room. God, she didn't want anyone to see her...but then again, would she even be recognized? Surely a maid coming into this room and finding a woman in the bed wasn't uncommon... And, a maid in this castle would know all about the Trevaine Family, but what reason would a subject of this kingdom have for knowing the face of a Hillington? It was a small comfort, but she was still trapped. What if she saw one of the men from last night? Or worse, the king. It frustrated her how strongly her emotions whirled, her anxiety bucking violently. Heat prickled up her neck and behind her eyes. Were her parents coming? Did they know everything already? Covering her face with her hands, Charlotte felt sick with embarrassment at the idea of standing in front of her father when he would know what had transpired the night before... She wanted nothing more than to go home--but it wouldn't be her home anymore, would it? Lowering her hands to her knees, she tentatively looked around his room once more. No, she would no longer find a suitable husband and grow old in her family's castle. This would be where she would spend the rest of her life. Sucking in a shaky breath, Charlotte exhaled slowly, trying to remain calm. It wasn't working. So instead she ran her fingers through her hair, trying her best to comb away the sleep from it. Forcing her mind to focus on other things, she plaited another braid to replace the one that had come undone last night. By the time she'd finished and was beginning to feel anxious again, the door unlocked. Jerking, she remained still, reasoning that it could only be Maximilian returning... ---------------------------------------- On his way up to the room, Maximilian ran into a maid that his father had evidently seen shortly after leaving him, and took the bundle of clothes and items from her before returning to his room. He unlocked it, stepping through while keeping the door mostly closed before letting it click behind him. His eyes moved to the woman in his bed, clearly awake as she had fixed up her hair and adjusted in the bed. Morning. He said softly, setting the platter next to her. You should eat some. he offered, and placed the bundle on the trunk at the end of the bed. Some clothing, a brush, and if you need anything else, I can send for it. He offered simply. My father says that your parents are on their way here, so we should both be presentable for when they arrive. He paused, as if trying to judge her reactions to that statement, then picked up a grape between two fingers, placing it gently between his lips and chewing slowly. In the meantime, if you'd prefer to have your own rooms here in the castle, I can arrange that. I understand if you don't want to share a space with me, this is obviously all very... sudden. He paused, wishing there was some way to talk about things of more importance, of what had happened between them, of to what would happen to them, without making the moment so hard and strained. ---------------------------------------- Seeing him was both relief and strain, combined with something new. Looking at his face, watching the way his dark hair shifted as he moved, Charlotte was incredibly aware that she now knew what he looked like nude. Heat flushed over her cheeks, but she was thankful he didn't seem to notice. He looked preoccupied as well, though infinitely more casual than she could ever hope to be. Wordlessly she looked between the food and the clothing, trying to decide if eating would make her nerves worse or better... Unable to resist, she picked up a strawberry, tentatively biting into it. Everything hung between them silently, it was suffocating. But what did they talk about, then? Where would they begin? And did now feel like the time for such awkwardness? But then, could it really be worse than this already was? And how could he just nonchalantly talk to her about room arrangements, as if they were organizing one of their old seasonal visits?! When my parents arrive, I will be leaving with them. She informed him, finally speaking, Yes, Maximilian this is all very sudden but we are not married. I'm not staying here unwed. And it was clear she would let his father know that too, if he had other ideas. The wedding will have to be rushed, but it also needs to be announced first. In both kingdoms. I need to be back home before that happens-- this that's happened is going to live and die with our families. I'm not going to be ruined by having this get out. She paused to collect herself, looking away from him. Her rage had very nearly broken through the surface. Beyond that, if the truth were exposed it wouldn't create a peaceful union of our people. More than likely my people would hate you and your family--worse, it could cause ill feelings between our people...maybe even riots as bad as other kingdoms have seen. Diplomatically, she knew she was right, and it was that fact that would probably win her the argument if Max's father had any intention of trying to keep her here. Her advantage came from the fact that her father had not put a limit on her education, and frequently kept her in the loop with his daily responsibilities as king--she was far more politically involved and opinionated than most women her age. ---------------------------------------- While she did pick up a strawberry and begin to eat it, he could easily tell there was something brewing in her mind. Then, as he spoke, he seemed to trigger that something with his mannerisms and his words, and she spoke at long last. And as she did, her words became more rushed and angry until she paused to collect herself. He let her finish her thoughts, having no interest in shouting over her right now, though he certainly recalled a number of disagreements in the past where they had dissolved into loud arguments over any number of things - they had never been this real, however. They'd always been over intellectual topics or diplomatic points, nothing so... personal. Not until that last time they had seen each other. Once she finished, he nodded. You're right. You should go home. My father had every intention of keeping what happened here a secret, and none of the staff knows any more than they need to. He stood, back to her, crossing the room to a large wardrobe. He produced a heavy black cloak from it, sweeping it around his body and clasping it at his throat with a silver clasp before reaching to the desk where his own circlet rested. He turned to face her again, circlet in hand, but in a way that signaled less of reverence for the object and more of a tired casual acceptance. We will... need to talk at length about what this union means for us as well. He said simply, his expression and tone terse. Then he pursed his lips slightly, expression a mixture of annoyance and acceptance. Though I seem to recall that you don't really want anything to do with me. That sentence contained no self-pity or loathing, no real anger aside from a tired acknowledgement once more of the last words they'd spoken before their reunion. With a sigh, he sank down into the chair at his desk, once more with his back to her. Go ahead and change. I won't watch you and make you more uncomfortable. ---------------------------------------- It was surprising how quickly he agreed with her, though it was also a relief. The thought of not being able to go home with her parents was devastating, though she would have fought tooth and nail had he disagreed. That being said, it was also clear to her Charlotte that her snap of anger had effectively shut Max down. He was being too stoic of all of a sudden. And when he abruptly turned away from her to dramatically sweep on his cloak, she had to close her eyes briefly to keep from rolling them. Classic dramatic Max. Had three years really changed nothing? As if she'd asked out loud and he'd taken it for a challenge, his next words stunned her. Merely blinking at him, she couldn't believe he was the first one to bring up the reality of their marriage. Yes, they would have talk about it, though it was hard for her to imagine doing so. But then, oh then , he did it--he brought up their argument. It was so subtle yet so on-the-nose. Even more stunned, her mouth dropped open though his back was to her. The fury ignited in her so fast she was up and out of the bed within seconds. It was her own willpower that kept her in place, though she very nearly crossed the room to give him a shove hard enough to knock him out of his chair. No, it wouldn't be dignified and it wouldn't help the situation. It was bad enough he intended to stay in the room while she changed. Left with no choice she snatched up the dress--which was not her taste at all--and turned her back on him as well. Loosening the buttons on her nightgown the fabric fell away, leaving her naked once again. The new dress in hand, she began to undo the buttons of it next, a little unused to not having a maid's help. Unable to resist a return jab, she indulged the bitterness he'd awoken inside of her. I seem to recall being encouraged to leave, but your memory is most convenient--as per usual. It felt like blowing on sparking embers, but it was oh so satisfying as well. Finally undoing the last button, Charlotte worked into the dress. It was very simple, which normally she wouldn't mind. The idea of gathering with Max, his parents, and her own in such a dress felt...well, it felt like an extra kick to her endurance. Everyone would be fully dressed to their station, she had no doubt. But she also knew this was her own emotion talking, and that really her parents wouldn't care about all that. It would make for a comfortable dress to travel home in, in any case. Is there an estimation on my parent's arrival, or is their approach just an assumption you have?