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A Royal from Lorien should never show any emotions. The King and Queens were supposed to be always stoic and impassive, no matter the situation, never raising their voices, crying or even smiling. Young princes and princesses were obliged to wear masks until they were older enough to start learning to control their emotions. Some kings were so paranoid that they even slept wearing impassive masks, so they wouldn’t betray themselves even on their sleep.
That was a tradition that started hundreds of years ago, when the old king decided (right after being fooled by a foreign princess) that he or his descendants wouldn’t suffer for any manipulation ever again. Thus, the royal family stopped showing emotions.
(Some royals would demonstrate affection only to one or two people during their whole life, usually towards their children. Other candidates to that exclusive affection were, from the most common to the least common: parents, siblings, friends and rarely to a lover).
Nobility, as always, tried to copy that royal lifestyle with some degrees of success. Usually, the only emotion that the noble people allowed to be shown was scornful laughter to humiliate others.
That tradition of not showing emotions made parties be a martyrdom to some people.
Arthur was included on these people.
Oh, but since he was the king and since it was his birthday celebration, he just couldn’t wish everybody a good night and go read a book or something more interesting.
The ball would start soon, right after the gift delivering.
The gift delivery was a small ceremony on royal birthdays in which the king or queen would sit on their throne and people would show them their gifts one by one. Usually, noble families would deliver a gift from the whole family (something extravagant. Even if nobility tried to control their emotions, they still wanted to show off), but the peasants (which were invited for that part of the celebration) would deliver their gifts one by one, making that ceremony long and tedious. It usually started right after noon and went on until eight o’clock.
Some kings would lose their patience after some time and ordered the peasants to just put their presents on the pile so nobility and royals could start the ball already.
Arthur was gentler than his ancestors with those non-nobles who were kind enough to buy or make a present for him.
After all, he loved his people.
He was sitting on his throne with his queen on his right and his young twin sons, Alfred and Matthew on his left.
His queen and him had an odd relationship. They didn’t hate each other, but they barely could bear to touch each other. It turns out the queen liked women and the king liked men, which made any sexual relationship between then very awkward. On their first night, they agree to have one child together and then they would be free to have as many love affairs as they pleased (the queen didn’t even wanted to have children in the first place, but she was aware of her “obligation” to the Crown). Now she was secretly meeting a cute noblewoman whose family lived near the palace. She liked to date a lot, but she was always discreet about it. And she liked to make Arthur aware of that (not to provoke any jealousy or anything. It was more like a report to avoid unpleasant surprises). They liked to talk about stuff. It was an odd friendship, but a friendship none the less.
On the other side, there were his twin sons, that he loved with all his heart. He was positive that Alfred and Matthew were his (they didn’t inherit his huge eyebrows, but they had little noses like him, the same shape of his face and very similar eyes, even if not with the same colour). Even if they weren’t, Arthur would still love those two boys as much as he loved now. They were the only two people to whom he showed emotions. He made sure to spend at least three hours a day with his boys, freely smiling and kissing and being present in his kids’ lives.
The queen had a natural scornful and distant expression. The 10 years old princes were still learning how not to show emotions. Matthew was already confident enough to try to spend his father’s birthday without a mask, while Alfred was still wearing his (because even if he was the oldest by a few minutes and even with all his bravado, he was still the more sensitive of the two. Arthur was certain he would make a great king).
The king had arranged with his servants to organize the gifts in two separated piles, one that he liked and other that he didn’t liked. He would signal that he liked a gift by nodding twice. For a distracted viewer, the piles would look similar in size and in content. Just a mere way to keep the presents until during the party, when the household servants would put them all away. To the attentive watcher, the pile the king liked more had more gifts from the people than from the nobility.
Arthur just couldn’t help it. Sometimes it seemed like his people knew him better than the closest nobles. And he loved his people back, even if he couldn’t show that with a smile.
The queue of gifts still was big and the noblepeople started to let their impassive facades slip and show impatience. Arthur would smirk if he could, but there was a sadistic pleasure in not even acknowledging their uneasiness.
He was GOOD in keeping a neutral expression.
Without moving his head, he was watching the queue for one specific person.
Francis, his personal steward.
The man was a foreigner, speaking with an accent that made him seems to be always singing. He had been serving the king since his last steward had died seven years ago. He was not much older than the king himself, and he definitely was very handsome, with his high cheekbones, golden hair and clear blue eyes. He was a gentle and artistic soul, always with a smile and a lot of talking to try to coax an expression from the king (so far he had gotten a few raised eyebrows and some exasperated sighs) or try to cheer up the young princes (he spent more time with the princes than their own mother).
Arthur couldn’t help himself but be enamoured with said man.
Oh, but in all those years that Francis was under the service of the king he never had ever gave him a gift (which was not unusual for the household, since they served the king almost every day). Francis, the chatty Francis, hadn’t mentioned a thing about it.
That made Arthur become very curious.
What was the mysterious present that his steward suddenly wanted to give him?
It seemed to take forever, but finally Francis was in front of him.
The plebs weren’t under the same etiquette rules that the royals or the nobility were. They could freely show their emotions, a thing that Arthur truly envied.
The kings knew how to read expressions. It was a knowledge that they learned from their fathers who learned from their fathers before them. They were taught not to show emotions, but to read it on other people’s faces.
Francis expression showed that he was truly nervous with his gift. Which was odd, considering that many people from the plebs had given the king very homely and simple gifts.
He was carrying a basked that he presented to the king.
- A gift for Your Grace, King Arthur, the fourth of his name. A basket with homemade macarons and red roses from the fields, your favourites.
Arthur held his breath.
How could he know about his favourite flowers?
Because, although the king was in love with his steward, he never acted on his feelings. Genuine love on a king’s life was rare and almost impossible to find. Arthur wasn’t ready to take the risk, even if his heart beat fast whenever the charming servant was in the same room. Therefore, he tried not to show his emotions to Francis and he didn’t shared more than the necessary with him.
How could he know?
And how did Francis managed to get those flowers? They didn’t bloom on that time of the year!
He hesitate in accepting the gift.
Everybody noticed, including Francis himself.
He blushed.
- I mean… Your Grace always… Your Majesty seems to… - he took a deep breath, trying to calm down his nerves – Your Highness always ask for them so I assume…
- That is a lovely gift. – the king said at last, nodding twice – Thank you, Francis.
And then something amazing happened.
For one split of second, Arthur impassive mask slipped away from his face.
His lips quirked upwards a little.
Not enough to be an indiscretion, but enough to be a hint of a smile.
Just as soon as he had showed up, it was gone and the king was back to his stoic expression.
However the damage was already done.
Some people gasped.
- Did he smiled? – somebody whispered thunderstruck.
- Of course not, you idiot! He is the king!
- I saw! – another said quietly and agitated.
- It was all you your head. – a fourth replied.
Many other whispers and susurrations ran the whole hall. Nobody was sure about if that happened or not.
Except for Francis.
He stared intently to the king’s face in complete surprise before beaming just like the sun.
Only the two of them knew for sure that on that from all the presents that the king had received, Francis was the only one who had a strong reaction.
The only exception for that almost millennial rule.
Maybe because, differently from the young princes (the other two people who Arthur loved), that love was still locked away and hidden from everybody. All bottled up, desperate to get out and be shown.
And on that moment, on that little exception, that love was leaking through that almost imperceptive smile.
He was not sure how Francis found out that were his favourite, how he got them and why he chose only now to gift that to him.
However, the king’s heart was beating fast with excitement and love.
Maybe, just maybe, that could bloom into something more…
Arthur cringed on the inside.
If that didn’t resulted in a scandal first.