Chapter Text
“Your majesty? You called for me?”
“Felix! Yes, do come in- and drop the formalities, it’s just me in here.”
The musician stepped through the tall doors of the queen’s study- an understatement at best and insult at worst for what the room truly beheld. He glanced over the ornate shelves which framed each of the room’s walls, filled with endless rows of books of various sizes. The bookshelves stretched all the way to the ceiling, with wrap-around balconies dividing them by every floor height. Every now and then there would be a ladder resting against the mahogany shelves, connecting to a brass pole at the top and two matching wheels at the bottom. In the center of the room, there was a seating area, composed of two chaise lounges and a set of armchairs, all facing each other around a small wooden table where the queen liked to serve her tea. A few feet away, there was a grand piano, decorated with wonderfully detailed carvings of flowers and various fauna, where she would take her lessons, preferring it over the music hall. Lastly, at the back of the room, a large wooden bureau stood empty in front of an imposing floor-to-ceiling window draped in heavy velvet curtains.
The soft creek of a ladder and two footsteps echoing through the immense room snapped his attention onto the second balcony on the right side of the study. Astraea was making her way toward the back of the room where, at the end of the balcony, a spiral staircase connected all levels of the “bookshelf’. Felix followed her with his eyes intently. Her white hair, which usually cascaded over her back and shoulders, was held up with what seemed to be a pen, twisted loose curls in a low bun. She wore one of her usual gowns, a simple silk dress with a matching bolero, in a beautiful combination of sage and emerald green- as per usual. Her sleeves were rolled up as she carried away a stack of books tall enough to cover her head. As she reached the spiral staircase, Felix had already made his way up to her.
“Here, let me-” he pulled the stack away from her grasp, resting the weight of it against his chest. He felt his muscles strain from the sudden weight, but tried to keep his struggle to uphold them concealed. They looked lighter in her hands.
“These are heavier than I thought, Astraea, you shouldn't-"
“I’m stronger than you thought, you mean” she replied with a sly smile, and reached over, taking a little less than half of the stack back into her arms. She led the way down the stairs.
“I do appreciate your help though”
“Least I can do, your majesty.” He knew calling her that annoyed her. He did it anyway.
Felix dropped the books onto her desk with a loud thud, right next to where she had placed her own. To his surprise, the tabletop was covered in papers and scrolls, abandoned pens and quills with splatters of ink dripping from their silver tips. The mess was unusual for her. Very unusual.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Who- me?” Astraea answered mindlessly as she started going through one of the piles of papers. “I’m perfectly fine, just preparing for the upcoming ball.” She briefly read through a few, putting them back down as quickly as she would pick them up, all too busy to notice Felix’s concerned gaze.
“Ah! Here it is” She beamed as she gripped a folded sheet, covered in cursive text and scribbles. She handed it over to him. “This is a list of the musical preferences of some very important diplomats and political allies which will be attending the ball. Some of them haven’t come here since my father’s passing, and I need this event to go very well. I have a feeling they’re not very happy about me being left in charge.” She frowned, pausing to take a deep breath. She looked up at the other and allowed herself to envy him for a brief moment. How lucky was he to be able to spend his days in music and poetry, rather than paperwork and wasteful diplomatic formalities. “I need this to go very well, you don’t know how much correspondence it took for me to get this.”
Felix took the paper and opened it. Inside, there was a list of over twenty names and, next to them, a cacophony of lines and arrows leading to either the name of a composer, a specific song, a sonata, a waltz, sometimes just a general description like “something light”. He raised a brow.
Astraea bit her lip anxiously. “I need you to organize an arrangement that fits everything on that list.” Her gaze was still fixated on his furrowed expression, trying to read through it. He seemed displeased to say the least. Maybe it was too much to ask for, too many opposing tastes that would clash together- music from every corner of the world he was maybe too unfamiliar with, too many instruments, too many languages.
“Please?” The word spilled from her lips softer, weaker than she’d expected. She knew it was uncommon for a monarch to rely so much on the artistic department of her court, but she did have such an appreciation for the arts. Unlike her late father, she believed that even the greatest kingdom with the greatest army would still be nothing without its culture, without its music, or paintings, castles, gowns and tapestries to frame it. She knew very well that talks of administrative changes and financial improvements would not be as impressive to guests as a good party, with lively conversation. At least not for now. Astraea was well aware of the fact that she lacked that charisma, that ease in approaching people and gaining their trust. Felix was much more skilled at that. He talked to anyone and everyone, about anything and everything, and never shied away from his thoughts. He could enchant people with one look, his music, his voice, his demeanor drew people in - in a way that Astraea could never quite grasp. He was so beautiful, inside and out, with auburn waves framing his sculpted, freckled face, hazel eyes that turned gold when sunlight met them and a voice like honey, that would calm even a baby’s nerves- but that was beside her point.
A brief silence sat between them, and she began to worry. She needed every last detail of this party to be perfect. Afterall, she had so much to prove, and so much more to lose.
“This?” Felix folded the paper and fluttered it around with one hand. “This is doable. I’m a bit disappointed if you assumed at any point my musical genius was below a task like this.” he teased. Astraea let out a sigh of relief, a breath she was unaware she was holding back. She offered him a small smile in return, but as she looked up at him, she noticed his gaze still hadn’t softened. He was staring at her with the same frown as before.
“However,” he began again “what I deem unacceptable, is this.” He gestured at her, paper still in hand. “Your hair is unkept, your eyebags are darker than ever, there’s ink stains all over your hands and dress.”
She took a step back defensively and looked down at herself with a shocked expression. “What? Well- Um- I… I don’t need to look proper all the time, I’m- just because I’m queen doesn’t mean-”
“I see you’re wearing the same dress as yesterday. Is it perhaps because you haven’t slept since?”
She stopped her blabbering and simply started up at him, gape-mouthed. He took a step towards her.
“Answer me.”
“Felix, it’s no big deal- I promise I can handle this, you really don’t need to worry-”
“Astraea.”
He grabbed her wrist. They both knew a line was being crossed, friends or not, he was still just a court musician and she was still the queen. Had there been any witnesses in the room they would have expected her to have him beheaded for it. Exiled at the least. But all she could think about was how warm her skin felt under his touch and how rapid her heartbeat had become. For the first time in weeks, her suffocating thoughts seemed to quiet down for a moment.
Felix sighed, his gaze softening. He felt his frustration melt into worry. He moved his hand from her wrist down to her hand and hesitantly grabbed it, raising it closer to inspect it. His thumb traced her ink stained fingers slowly. Something ached in him, maybe because they reminded him of what his hands used to look like when he was younger. Only instead of black, the splatters were a deep shade of red which, more often than not, would stain the piano ivories or violin chords just as much as his skin. Or maybe, it hurt to see a woman who did so much for her kingdom, her people and everyone else around her, working herself to sickness in order to please and impress some noble snobs- which would not change their opinions about her either way, unless they truly wanted to. He knew those kinds of people, he grew up around them. He despised them. His eyes trailed back to her face, to her tired, emerald gaze. She looked ethereal, even as tired and dishevelled as she was right now. With her back towards the window, the mid-day sun beamed through her silver hair like a halo. Perhaps she really was a saint.
Astraea was standing frozen, her hand clinging onto his, afraid that once he would let go he would never dare to touch her again. The thought terrified her. Her gaze was glued to his face. She watched him take a step away without letting go of her hand. He led her over to one of the chaise lounges, and urged her to sit down. Too flustered (and tired) to protest, she obliged. She leaned back against the velvet cushion and watched him step away, making his way around the chaise lounge to sit down at the grand piano. Her eyes followed him curiously.
“Now then, if you want me to help you with the ensemble, you should let me know what you think would sound best. Okay?”
“Felix I-”
Before she could protest, his fingertips met the ivories, and he began playing a beautiful sonata, “something light”, he supposed.
“Felix, I need to get back to work.”
“You have time to rest for a bit.” He smiled as her eyelids began to flutter.
She tried to remain focused as she watched him over her shoulder. Her spine began to ache from her pose, so she brought her knees up, and folded an arm over the backrest, leaning sideways into it. To listen to him more comfortably, she lied to herself.
He played with such gentleness, it sounded almost like a lullaby. At some point he began humming along to it as well, just as softly. Astraea’s eyelids felt so heavy as she lost herself in the music. His voice was so sweet and mellow, it sounded like a warm summer breeze, careless and free, lulling her to sleep. She lowered her head onto her arm as her eyes fell shut. She could say that she tried to fight the sleep that overtook her, but no one would believe her.
The music kept playing, even through her dreams. He could hear him too, comforting her.
She had no clue for how long she slept, but when she awoke, the sun was setting, and the room was enveloped in a golden glow. The music had stopped, which left her admittedly disappointed, but she would have to contain her greed for it. She started moving her limbs, surprised at the absence of a shoulder or neck ache, which usually accompanied her unexpected naps. As she moved her head she realized it was resting against something warm that… moved? Ever so slightly raising and falling beneath her. She peeked up, mortified. Her heart thumped almost aggressively against her ribcage as the sight confirmed her fear. She had been sleeping on top of her court musician. Felix. How did he end up on the chaise lounge? Her face flushed as he lay there underneath her, peacefully breathing oh so softly with a hand resting behind his head and the other hanging loosely over the edge of the cushions with some musical sheets still hanging in his grasp. Panic flooded her system as she became all too aware of her senses at the same time. His body was warm and surprisingly soft. She could hear his heartbeat, its reassuring and paced rhythm vibrating through his entire body. A patch of exposed skin by his partially opened poet’s shirt felt smooth against her cheek. His gentle breaths brushed against her forehead as he lightly snored. Everything about him was so calm and tender. He smelled like amber and wood, with a hint of something sweet on top- like cherry wine. It was painfully intoxicating.
She could’ve been set on fire and she still wouldn’t have felt the burning heat as intensely as she did right now.
She tried to move and push herself away, hoping that if she could run away before he awoke she would spare both of them the embarrassment- but as she moved, he stirred. She froze. He made a sound, a sigh or a whine as she moved, that sent shivers down her spine like lightning. Something about seeing him so intimately stirred something within her, and it felt wrong, so so so wrong and good.
Oh.
Her thoughts and heart rate picked up, unsure what to do. She could run away still, blame her tiredness or - .. or.. Stay. Savor it.
Before she could make a choice, she felt a sudden weight pressing on her back. As the musical sheets fell on the floor, the hand that was previously clutching them was now resting on her back, lulling her back in. Her skin tingled under his touch. Her head fell back into his chest, nestled between his collarbone and chin. She hated herself for allowing the situation to get to this point. She was entirely defenseless, helpless and pure mush in this man’s embrace.
She lay there frozen for a long time, falling in and out of a sleep-like daze, unaware if it had been seconds or centuries that passed by. Could’ve been either, and she would care just as little, either way. Occasionally, his hand would move on her back, almost like a caress. She melted beneath it as it seduced her back to sleep.
The next time she woke up it was because of a soft pat on her head.
“Astraea?” The voice was raspy and low, but not unfamiliar. Her eyes fluttered open, met by a blue-tinted darkness. The same comforting heat was radiating from underneath her as she allowed her vision to adjust to her surroundings. Her study was dimly lit by the early, cold hues of twilight. It was early morning- the sun hadn’t risen yet, she was in her study, and the voice-
“Felix! I-” She pushed herself upward, startled “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
A chuckle interrupted her. The musician sat up from underneath her and yawned, as she backed away into the opposite corner of the chaise lounge, returning his personal space. The coldness of his absence didn’t agree with her, however. She watched him carefully, anticipating any negative reaction.
“Apologies, your majesty. If anyone is to blame it’s me” He met her gaze. She looked confused.
“What do you mean?”
His sheepish smile calmed her alarming thoughts for a brief moment.
“Well- you see, I played for a while after you fell asleep, but when I stopped you began to stir and mumble, I thought you were having a nightmare. I came to wake you but you wouldn’t budge, you just grabbed my arm and refused to let go, so I sat down with you. You seemed to calm down after that so I didn’t leave. I must’ve fallen asleep as well at some point- that’s how we ended up-” he gestured between them “I’m sorry- I should’ve left then-”
“No!” Astraea clasped a hand over her mouth “I mean-” Felix raised a brow. He looked like he was about to burst with laughter.
“I haven’t slept this well in ages.” She looked away. “Thank you.”
“Least I can do for my queen.” he smiled reassuringly, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Well then, it seems like the sun will rise soon” he spoke as he stood up, pausing to stretch. “You look a lot better now. Well rested, like you should be. So I believe my work here is done, unless you require me for anything else.” He offered a sly smirk before stepping toward the doors of the study. “I’ll be going then, it will be scandalous if I am to be found with the queen in this state. But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy our nap, your majesty.” He offered one last dramatic bow before making his exit, leaving the queen alone in her study with a stupid grin plastered on her flushed face.
Silly her, thinking that whatever the two shared could ever be more than just a friendship. Well rested, she was able to think clearer now. Her affections for the artist would forever remain safely buried in her heart, hidden from the world. She would continue to admire him from afar for as long as she was able, in between her obligations and responsibilities.
As she moved to stand up, a weight fell from her shoulders, sliding against her back. Maybe Felix had covered her with a blanket at some point?… but it hadn’t been there when she awoke in the afternoon. She turned to pick it up, but to her surprise the fabric was not as she’d expected. It was rather coarse, but still warm and comforting enough to sleep underneath. She ran her palm over it and found its edge to be embroidered with a familiar design.
It was far too late for her to panic or overthink, as it wouldn’t have solved anything at that point, but her heart raced nonetheless. She realized that the alleged blanket was, in fact, a military cape, designed for her own soldiers, and that the embroidered symbol indicating the rank of its owner meant it belonged to none other than her personal guard and general, Eric.