Snippet #2103929

The Queen’s Ballroom looked immense. The upper circle on which the royal family sat ran all around, so rich were the hangings of gold and crimson and below was scarcely a foot of bare marble. The fierce fire light rose to flood the high-groined arches of the roof. The long tables below hosted a string of men of considerable power, authority, all dressed in the requisite austerity. And before them laid on the wood table exotic servings, all were content as they chattered, the dancers who cover the great floor danced enticing as if they liked the thick carpet beneath their bare feet. There were so many interlocking circles of feminine figures moving to the throb of the beat of the music that they made a series of intricate and often symmetrical design.

Isadora observed the celebration. She was a poised, lordly figure, the very image of decorous sophistication. Her eyes settled on Lillian and Alexavier. She laughed, for a moment contemplating Lillian’s beauty and seeming innocence, drawing in the evanescent adolescence that would soon fade forever – Lillian’s face was unblemished, her curious eyes gleaming, and her mouth red. She was blushing with the virginal aura she still possessed. And the impression gave a raw sharpness to all her features. Alexavier sat, staring, rapt by Lillian’s beauty that alone left no eyes for other things. They had developed an easy intimacy which Isadora had never expected, and drew from Lillian the most complete devotion to her son. They sat closely, their conversation intimate and exclusive. Indeed they seem the perfect couple, the future king and queen of King’s Landing.

Charles Godwin entered the royal room followed by a tail of guards and royal servants, which he carelessly pushed away except for the cup bearer. He grabbed a cup of wine and drank it dry, and it was quickly filled up again. He greeted some of the guests. And when the queen’s eyes met his they literally stopped him where he stood, her gaze was cold and full of anger, a look all too familiar and one he had grown tired of long ago. He shrugged his shoulders and continued, walked to his chair and sat. He didn’t acknowledge her again. He had more important things to worry about than the fury of a jealous wife. Each day more news of the brewing troubles in the north came to him in broken pieces. He’d hope a union with House O’Connel will help control the north and put to rest this thorn at his talons for good.

He looked at his son sternly and then rested his tired eyes on the beautiful Lady Lillian. Her smile brought a smile to his face. He raised his cup to them and stood up. The music quieted down and everyone collected themselves to a silent still. “LET US RAISE our cups to MY SON, Prince Alexavier. May ALL your days be full of LOVE, and merriment like it is today.” There was a great clamor, with men cheering, and the clapping of hands. A rush of pleasure passed through the room as the merriment grew louder and the music once again filled the room.

Charles observed his son and wonder if the boy would ever be fit to lead the kingdom. The more he observed the more disappointed he became. He was no Godwin, he was pure Clearwater, the boy was not apt to lead and perhaps it is his fault. No, it was his mother’s fault. She stopped being a proper wife eight years ago and he was too drunk to remember how it even happened – he looked at his youngest daughter. He looked at his middle child too; All blond, fair, and with emerald eyes like their mother. Yes she is to blame; she has failed to give him a proper Godwin heir – one of dark hair and dark eyes.

When did it all go sour? He pondered. It seems he neglected being a father to his children. But he was out fighting wars, conquering kingdoms; he did what was expected of him nothing less. He was born to be king and that is exactly what he’s been. The world needs men like him. He thought. And seating there, amongst the gala of his son’s named day a dreadful question crossed his mind. What if it has all been for nothing? The very idea upset his stomach.

Isadora tried to hide the anger she felt but everyone who knew her well could tell the queen was vexed. She sent the young princesses’ to bed and watched as the little one ran up to the King and kissed him good night. He picked her up and crushed her tight in an embraced tickling her face with his beard. The little princess's gleeful laughed was matched by the king’s enjoyment. The hand maids took the girls away. The honoring of the prince’s personal guard begun and the king gave another speech. Alexavier stood next to his father and Lillian was asked to seat with the queen at the queen's request.

The two woman faced the celebration as the queen spoke her venom. “Look at them, father and son, the two are as night and day. Yet the boy must become the father. He must do his duty. You too will do your duty when the time comes. I see your devotion to my son,” she looked at the young girl, her eyes cold and studious. “As long as you don’t lose your devotion you might earn your place. Of course there will be other changes taking place when Alexavier seats at the crown. None of which I’m afraid involve your father. Unless…,” she paused momentarily, to allow her words the effect she desired, “unless you do your duty as wife to the king and leave all other affairs to the adults. I will accept nothing less.”

Damian grew bored of the King’s speech; the very voice of the king peeved him, if only he could slash the throat and shut him up. He walked away and found a corner where the voice of the King was minimal. The idea of killing the king always entertained him. He played over the many ways it could be done in his head, but there was always one obstacle, an obstacle that pushed back his sister’s plan. And his name was Graham O'Connel, the Hand of the King.
He looked for his sister and found her on the balcony next to Lillian O’Connel. A wicked smile grew on Damian’s face. He knew his sister well and by her intimidating posture he discerned she was moving her pawns. Isadora will allow the union of Alexavier and Lillian because in keeping Lillian under her control, O’Connel will be kept on a leash. When Alexavier is given the throne O’Connel will do his best to keep the North tamed even if it means fighting everyone he knows. He will fight against all the enemies of the Wardents of the West for the safety of his family.