Love's Blush

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  "I shall do as you say, my King," Beatrice said, softly bowing her head.

  "Good, good," Alistair nodded melting into the floor with each moment, "um, probably not needed now but I can work the potions into your rotation without anyone the wiser seeing as how..." He let that sentence trail off, not wanting to think about any of the mechanics.

  "But," Cordell spoke up a moment, "is it not sinful? To use magic in order to prevent a gift from the Maker."

  "Oh for the love of..." Alistair began, glaring over at the good, chantry boy who got the sweet, pious Queen knocked up. What a time for him to start throwing around what the Maker did and didn't want.

  He wanted to rant in his face, but Bea ran her fingers over that round jawline and whispered, "Magic should serve man, not rule over him."

  "Ah yes," Cordell smiled, "I understand your meaning. You are correct, of course."

  "Thank the Maker," Alistair sighed, relief flooding his exhausted veins. What he wanted was to curl up to sleep inside a giant marshmallow and then eat his way out of in the morning. Too bad he had more to accomplish before he could even pry his boots off. "If that's done and over with, I need to be seeing to my own new bodyguard."

  Turning to leave the two love birds alone, Alistair stepped to the door when Bea's soft voice called out. "You're forgetting something in your hands."

  He startled, realizing he still held the prince nestled in the crook of his arm, the baby amazingly dozing for once. Alistair tugged back on the fold of a blanket to stare down at the spotty red and white face. Spud had a muddled look to her but it passed quickly. This one seemed to intend to keep looking like an underripe radish for as long as possible.

  Bea struggled to sit up, her heavy arms lifting to reach for the baby. He paused a moment, almost wishing he could hold the little radish a bit longer. "Unless you intend to breastfeed your son, I think it best if I keep him," she said, and he turned in surprise at the joke the Queen made. He'd thought she was incapable, like a witch cursed her or something.

  "Here," Alistair passed the boy back to his mother's waiting arms. Bea melted instantly as she cuddled him to her nourishing breast. For all their cold distance she never faltered on calling them Alistair's children, not even in private. It was a strange threeway of parentage but they were doing their best to make it work.

  Dipping his head lower, Alistair turned away from the two that created the baby. He had an entire damn country to father.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Roommates

  Chamberlain Karelle, as Reiss later learned was her official title, whipped her so fast through sections of the palace there was no way the awestruck elf had a moment to catch what anything was. They paused at the stables, Karelle nodding once over at the kennels nestled in the back and a litter of pups yipping for attention. Reiss shook off her wandering fingers aching to pat soft heads and maybe sneak one out in her coat. She was here on business, a unimaginable one, but it was business. After that it was past the official royal guard training grounds where Karelle sized up the elf without tugging out a single measuring stick. She didn't even work her hands around to try and surmise Reiss' less than human proportions, only nodded once, and said that this was the best armor they had for now but something could be taken in.

  It was the fanciest metal she'd ever been allowed to touch. During the Inquisition years, unless you were on the front lines or assumed to be, you made due with their boiled leathers and scraps of splint mail dug out of the back of Orlais' armories. And even then, that was ten times better than what they suffered in as a Denerim guard. "Is this actual gold?" Reiss stuttered from the lines of shining yellow dipping down the breastplate and forming the Ferelden shield front and center.

  Karelle shook it off, unimpressed with the splendor as she must see it every day. "It should suffice for now..." the chamberlain began, but Reiss waved it off. She'd been padding human armor to fit her ever since picking up a sword. This was no problem.

  After returning the armor to a stand marked with her name, as well as selecting a few swords and a bow should something strange occur, Karelle looked up at the other royal guards shuffling inside. "It must be nearing on midnight if they are changing shifts. Perhaps it would be in our best interest if I show you where you will be sleeping."

  "Ah," Reiss nodded. She began the day assuming she'd stand all afternoon in the baking sun waiting for nobles to shuffle out, and was going to end it being given a bed in the royal palace. Maker's breath, this had to be some trick. Lunet would come rounding the corner and laugh herself silly at the look on Reiss' shocked face.

  Unaware of her turmoil, Karelle led her through a back path. All the other hallways bore sconces of gilded metal but these were brushed steel, with no paintings or rugs to spruce it up. Even the stone looked cheaper as if they barely hewed it from the earth before slapping it up. A servant's entrance if she ever saw one. Catching her thoughts, Karelle said over her shoulder, "We often employ some of the older passages to get through the castle undisturbed."

  "Who would disturb you?" the woman trained as a solider then a guard, aka killer of all fun, asked.

  "Any and all who think you can get them a moment of the King's time. I rather suspect as people come to know your face you shall find yourself swamped with requests." Karelle paused in the narrow staircase and turned back to face her, "Do try to use your best judgment with them. We don't want any incidents occurring."

  "No, no, of course not," Reiss nodded, fully lost. What did she mean by incidents? Did they think she was going to throw the doors open and invite in all the elves of the kingdom for one big party?

  "Ah, here it is," Karelle slid out of the staircase to heave open a plain, unassuming door which revealed the most decadent hallway Reiss had ever seen. Granted, the closest she came to Orlesian splendor involved the frozen, half rotted town of Sahrnia so perhaps they did it better. Instead of rich crimson and gold as bedecked most of Ferelden's fancier decor, it was all a cobalt blue embedded into silver finishings giving the hall a crisp and more modern feel. Reiss reached a finger out to glance against the silver sconce, expecting it to be freezing to the touch. That was what the hall was -- like stepping inside a beautiful but terrifying glacier.

  "Ahem," Karelle coughed, shaking Reiss out of her thoughts.

  "Right, sorry," her head hung down as she scampered after the imposing chamberlain.

  Walking down the empty hall Karelle continued in her booming voice that quieted for no one, "These are the King's quarters. As you'll no doubt note, they're rather bereft." She had no idea how bustling an honest to the Maker King's bedroom should be, but even Declan had a few foot servants stand around near his bed for shits and giggles. It was strange that no one else rushed past. "People will arrive with schedules, laundry, on occasion snacks, but in general our Majesty is...peculiar, as you will no doubt learn."

  She said that often "No doubt learn." Reiss felt like she was five years old again with her father about to toss her into the river where she'd either figure out swimming or drown. She screamed her head off, terrified of the water and certain that it'd tug her down to its depths without a second thought. But, of course, the minute she hit it survival took over and within about five minutes she was paddling from shore to shore in the creek barely three feet deep. If she'd stood up, she'd have been fine. Something in her soul told her this river she waded into was bottomless and one wrong stroke would doom her to the abyss.

  "Ah, here it is," Karelle paused at a door and Reiss expected her to open it, but she only pointed at it. "This is where the King often enters. He has three rooms at his disposal, though tends to only recline in two and the third contains, well..."

  "I'll no doubt learn," Reiss interrupted, a laugh in her throat. Then she paled at interrupting the chamberlain and tried to apologize but the woman found it quaint.

  "You two may get on after all," she said, her finger knotted over her lips revealing a small ruby chip embedded into her nail. "I wanted you to familiarize yourse
lf with this door. Beyond the servants, all of whom you shall meet tomorrow, no one else should enter this room without his Highness' leave. Is that to be understood?"

  "Yes, Ser," Reiss nodded solemnly.

  Karelle smiled at the Ser. "You will be sleeping near in case of an emergency, or long nights, or any other such matter the King may require your services for. He's rather known for keeping late hours of his own accord."

  "All right," Reiss tried to not imagine what the long hours all meant.

  Stepping past the mythic King's Bedroom door, Karelle walked her past another one seemingly connected to the quarters before stopping. She pulled a key out of her pocket and inserted it into the lock. Twisting it, Karelle pushed on the door revealing a unitarian room. A free standing vanity with basin sat across from her, Reiss watching her dark reflection in the mirror. Beside that was a bed; simple, sturdy blankets covering what was probably an old but well made mattress. To finish off the small room was a desk, its edges dark from age but someone took the time to add stacks of fresh vellum and an ink bottle to it, no doubt the chamberlain's influence.

  "For previous regimes, this was to be used for the King's live in servant but he seemed to be of the opinion that that was of no need," Karelle tipped her head, obviously in disagreement with that assessment.

  "I'll be staying here?" Reiss tried to not stutter, her fingers tracing over the desk as she stepped into the room.

  Without a thought, Karelle whipped a flint out of her pocket and struck it upon a sconce on the wall. "For the time being. I admit, we're not well prepared for this eventuality and the room is lacking in size, but I can supply you with anything you may require. A chest to hold your change of clothes is already being hunted for, and any books you would like to whittle away your down time with."

  Small? Reiss' eyes wandered over every inch of the room, her mind all but screaming in shock. She'd shared a room half this size with her siblings and parents. In the Inquisition, the barracks -- while of a giving size -- housed a good fifty people at a time. And in the guardhouse, she was always sleeping behind a partition while other guards moved in and out on their shifts. This was the first time in her life that Reiss would have a bedroom all to herself. She was in such insane joy, the edges of her vision began to sparkle. Great, why not have a stroke right now, Reiss? That'll be the perfect start to your new job.

  "Regarding your salary," Karelle began, yanking Reiss back to reality. Damn, she was terrible at this part. "Twenty-five Sovereigns to begin."

  "Twenty-five a month?" Reiss said. With the guards she pulled down twenty and that was without taking into account boarding she had to pay for. In the end it amounted to about 12, half of which then went to various amenities. An extra five Sovereigns would really help her.

  "No," Karelle shook her head, a hint of a smile turning up those flat lips, "Twenty-five a week."

  Yup, it's okay to stroke out now. Just flop right onto the floor in total shock. Her 'she was dead' theory roared back to life as one half of Reiss' brain screamed that was a hundred Sovereigns a month while the other gibbered something incoherent and pissed itself in the corner.

  "You understand, I hope, that this is not a simple you head home at the end of the day job," Karelle punched through her pink, fuzzy fog of joy. "The King will require constant protection until these monsters are found, and if anything gets through..."

  There it was. Reiss knew it had to be waiting for her, that damn catch to trip her up and send her careening off the cliff. Of course, even if it was fully beyond her control, if she had to be in two places at once and failed, the first one they'd string up for endangering the King would be the elf. She nodded her head despondently, her moment of levity dampened by the heavy hand of duty.

  "I expect you to act with the solemnity that comes with the uniform of a royal guard. Try to refrain from any cursing, spitting, sexual innuendos, or political statements while you are serving in the official capacity."

  In other words, have no life. Well, they picked the right elf for that job. She hadn't had one of those in...since before the Blight, really. Nodding her head, Reiss saluted against her chest, "Yes, Ser."

  "That second door there," Karelle stepped over and pushed it open, "leads to the King's chambers. It will most likely remained locked and, of course, anything you overhear in there should be kept under the strictest of confidence."

  "Right," Reiss bobbed her head.

  "You are wondering why this room has two doors," she said, smiling at the instincts percolating in Reiss' head.

  Reiss pointed first at the hall, then back to the King's room, "Is it so..." That brain of hers, the one that often drug her into trouble whether she wanted it or not, spat out an answer, "if there is a certain situation occurring in his Lordship's room I can return to mine without disturbing him?"

  "Exactly as you say," Karelle beamed. She seemed to be treating Reiss like a student that got a math problem right, or perhaps a small dog that learned to not wet the carpet. Either way, the patronization was beginning to wear on the elf. "And on the subject, if the King should bring someone of a feminine mystique back to his room you should not under any circumstances draw attention to it."

  Reiss nodded grimly, that order she was used to. Now if there were sheep involved... "Yes, Ser."

  "Excellent," Karelle clapped her on the back, the giantess all but scattering Reiss to the floor. Maker's Breath, how was she not the Commander of the guards? As the elf massaged her shoulder, trying to bring life back into it, the sound of shoes stepping across the floor drew her to glance out at the hallway.

  The voice, however, came from behind her. "Fancy running into you here, roommate."

  Reiss whipped back to find the King standing in the doorway to...of course he was standing in the door to his chambers. It's his bedroom, Reiss. He had his royal hands folded up against his chest, a smile that never seemed to slip away plastered on. "Karelle, how'd it go?"

  "Fine, Sire. I believe she has things well in hand until the morrow when we can introduce her to the rest of the crew."

  The King nodded along, waiting for his chamberlain to finish speaking before asking, "Are you finished with her because I'd like to have a few words with the new bodyguard?"

  "I..." for a moment Karelle's eyes lingered over Reiss as if she was uncertain to push the baby bird out of the nest. "I am, your Highness." Before turning away, Karelle rolled a key off her loop and pressed it into Reiss' hand. "Welcome to the royal guards," she said before turning on her heels and marching back to her own bed somewhere else in this gilded fortress.

  Reiss' fingers flexed over the key to her bedroom, trying to imprint it into her palm. Maker, this was the first time she'd ever been entrusted with a key. Even on the farm, the foreman was the one to lock them in at night for fear they'd all try to nick the silverware and run off into the night. As if you could sell cheap ass ceramic forks for anything more than a song.

  "So," the King began, drawing her away from the milestone. Dropping her hands to the side, Reiss stood at full attention. "Bit of a strange day for you. Me too, come to think of it. It's okay," he snickered, waving a hand at her, "you can calm down. We're going to be stuck together for a lot of the day and I thought perhaps a little..." He waved his hands back and forth between them but she had no concept of what he wanted.

  He tried a few more times, his hands increasing in tempo before falling slack and groaned out, "Getting to know one another."

  "Ah," she didn't anticipate that. Fellow soldiers in the Inquisition came to know her, some more than others, but rarely the commanding officers. They had their own friends in higher echelons to keep track of, those of the rank and file preferred to stay in their own stratum as it were. And Bann Declan had no use for anyone that wasn't an Arl or greater. "You have already read my file, your Highness."

  "So I did, so I did," he wafted back and forth on his toes uncertainly. "Lots of war stuff in there. A few mentions of helping little old ladies cross the street to be
at up demon possessed chickens. Uh..." Reiss waited as patiently as possible while the King seemed to be struggling to put together his words. "Do you, um, have any children?"

  "No."

  "A husband, or wife, or someone waiting for you?"

  Reiss tried to not roll her eyes at that thought, "No."

  "Good." He smiled, drawing her eyes to him and an almost adorable panic crawled across his face. Lashing his fingers back to his forehead, he tugged his hair upward while shrugging, "Because, it would save on us having to send a runner to fetch them for reasons of making it all easier on everyone trying to sleep. And not for any other reason that it probably sounded like when I asked. Ha. Okay, truthy time from me. I've never had a personal bodyguard before."

  She tried to not chuckle at his obvious admittance. Folding her arms, Reiss glanced over at the man acting as if his shoes were two sizes too small. "I guessed as much."

  He shrugged, that lopsided almost dog-like smile knotting up his lips while Reiss mentally shook herself. Did she know that about him? How did she know that? Okay, he was acting like a fool, but people said that of the King often. And he seemed to have no concept of how to establish a line of command quickly, letting -- oh Maker -- someone like her talk back to him.

  "I mean, Sire, I..."

  At that he winced, "Right, first thing's first, how about you call me Alistair? We're going to be stuck together for Maker knows how long and I'd much prefer my name, as boringly common as it is, to any of the titles involving how tall or wide I am. The less said about the validity of my um, trouser contents, is...I really hate Sire."

  Reiss mouthed his name a moment but gave it no breath. "I..." Andraste's flaming buttress, she wanted to obey his order but she knew in her gut she couldn't. "I'm sorry, Si...your King. I don't think it would be proper for someone of my station to refer to you so informally."