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“And what is the message you bring?”
“My master has asked me to tell you of his great love, my lady,” Alix says, head bowed low, trying very hard not to grit her teeth.
“Oh? Tell me, then,” the Countess Chloé sounds as bored as if she were reading a Latin textbook, and Alix fumes.
“It is great, my lady,” ‘Alaric’ mutters, raising his head slightly to offset the patheticness of the plea in his words with the fire he knows hides in his eyes.
The countess shifts in her seat, but portrays no other sign of discomfort.
“He dreams of you every night and wishes you were there to greet him in the morning,” Alix continues, and there is a bit of desperation in there, too, now.
The Duke of Orsino (‘Call me Kim,’ he insisted three days into their acquaintance, ‘for you have proved too valuable to be snatched away from me thanks to the inevitable distance formality brings,’) would not have been pleased with his most faithful servant’s conduct, she is sure, so she snaps up, keeping her eyes locked on the countess’, trying to lower her voice even further.
“He dreads your absence at every meal, my lady,” the words bite the inside of her mouth, but still ‘Alaric’ speaks, “and says he would give up all the stars in the sky for one kiss of yours, though he is certain he shall need to procure more celestial bodies for subsequent caresses lest he die for their lack afterward. He rhymes your name with all the flowers in the world,” and Alix’s education on the matter extends very far; Kim’s on poetry does not, but the countess need not know that. “He only wishes to be allowed to bask in your company for the rest of his days, as your lawfully wedded husband, and offers himself fully to satisfy you in his capacity as such. Is this not enough? ”
(Laughter in his eyes as he calls over ‘Alaric! Quick, the day escapes us!’, blush in his cheeks from the candlelight as they speak in low voices of distant dreams of travel and mythical horizons.
Who is Alix asking that again? )
The Countess Chloé stands up abruptly from her chair. “That is quite enough, thank you…?” there is a question in her gaze as well as in her voice, and, strangely, this is the first time ‘Alaric’ has truly felt like he has lost his footing.
“They call me ‘Alaric’,” and though it is not a lie, a strange flash of shame shoots through him as her eyes glint. A moment passes with nothing to fill it, and Alix realises she must correct her mistake. “I do apologise for my conduct, Lady Courtesy. It was–is not appropriate for me to address you in that way. It is just that my master’s passion has transferred onto me.”
“Yes,” the countess replies, that glint still in her eyes. She starts moving towards him . “Please, allow me to escort you outside.”
Alix nods, feeling very stiff, and pivots on her foot to head towards the door. “Will you consider my master’s proposal?”
“I may,” the countess says, nonchalant, and Alix feels a hand, light as a feather, settle on her left shoulder. “Come this way, through the gardens. You must see the flowers. There are some in quite unusual colours, one of them even matches your hair. Truly fascinating, that hair,” that last part is muttered, but it still sends shivers down Alix’s spine.
Oh, no.
(And they dance around the flowers with an uncanny resemblance to the two lovers from the tale who dance around a kiss – one of them already in love with another – and Alix barely escapes with her dignity and her chastity intact.
But Kim is smiling so hard when she tells him the news she can’t even bring herself to hurt.)