It had been a miserable morning that had steadily progressed into a wretched evening. Tate was already sporting a blooming bruise on his cheek where he had been violently struck down. He had since pressed himself in a far corner of the room and was desperately trying to remain unnoticed. He had hoped the princling would drink himself into unconsciousness, but the young man seemed to only grow angrier instead of tired.
When the Lady Phatilia made an impromptu visit everyone in the prince's chambers fell deathly silent. The timing could not have been worse and Tate was not the only one cringing away from the prince's fiancé.
Christian took one look at the young woman and openly sneered. "How fortunate!" He boomed, his voice slurred and dripping with disdain. "My darling wife to be has graced us with her presence." He stood up and performed a sloppy bow. His eyes travelled up and down the length of her petite frame, taking in the skin-tight sapphire gown and towering snowy hair. "You look beautiful tonight Phatilia." He said, the tone turning the words into an insult.
She really did look startlingly beautiful and Tate felt a bizarre pang of sorrow when he saw the hurt and confusion cross her delicate features. "You're majesty had been absent from the court of late." She said smoothly, the pain skilfully hidden in her voice. "I had missed your presence." She took a short step forward but seemed to visibly stop herself from going to him. Her confusion bloomed. "Are you well Christian?"
"I'm perfect Phatilia." Christian said nastily, taking an unsteady step and spilling his wine as he made a sweeping gesture towards Tate. "Just look what I have to amuse me in my rooms. With such a beauty why would I leave to spend time in the hall with you?" He crossed the distance to Tate and grabbed the smaller man around the waste. The halfling had a moment to think Christian couldn't possibly be doing something so incredibly foolish before he was being bent almost in half.
Tate struggled, he couldn't help himself. Christian had never even kissed him before his servants and now the damned fool was exhibiting himself before his betrothed. A tongue forced its way down his throat and the half-blood began to struggle in earnest. He heard a horrified cry and then he was released so suddenly that he fell hard to the ground. He had a moment to see the look of humiliation on Phatilia's face before the devastated woman fled from the room. Christian watched her go, the glee on his face slowly giving way to realisation of what he had just done before his staff and future wife. Items starting sailing through the air and Tate scuttled away from him on his back. At first the prince threw them at random but after a moment he began flinging his possessions directly at his startled staff. The poor fools were too well trained to run away. Tate watched in horror as a young page was struck in the temple by a glass vase. It shattered on impact and the boy crumpled without a sound.
Silence reigned for a few breaths before Christian started screaming. "Out!" he cried, giving the unmoving boy a solid kick to the leg. "All of you get out!"
A few brave servants picked the lad up and dragged him out. A pool of blood followed and Tate was reminded of the soldier the prince had once killed for kicking him. There had been no enquiry into the soldier's death and as far as the halfling was aware he had never been mentioned again. He wondered if the same fate would befall the page boy.
Tate had wedged himself back into his corner during the princes fit. He crossed his arms and dropped his eyes and prayed that Christian would leave him alone. Though he dearly wished to depart with everyone else he knew the prince would not permit him to go. There were a few moment of heaved breath and then a hand slapped hard against the wall beside Tate's head. From below his lashes the halfling watched the prince's heaving chest rise and fall.
"They all think they can judge me." He snarled, reaching out his free hand to fondle Tate's hair. "I can see the look in their eyes. They don't think I'm worthy of being their king. I hear their gossiping, they think I don't but hear them but I always do." His gentle caress became painfully tight "They'll regret their words soon enough. Soon they won't have any other choice but to accept me. Soon I'll be all they have."
"You'll make a good king Christian." Tate said, feeling sickened by his own simpering compliance. The hand in his hair loosened slightly. "Everyone worships you."
"They think me mad." Christian mumbled, leaning into Tate and forcing his leg between the Halfling's clenched thighs. "You do too."
"I live to serve you." He whispered as he coiled in on himself. He was about to be hurt, he was very sure of it, the only question was just how badly. He could see a dagger on the prince's belt and almost grabbed it in desperation when he heard a knock at the prince's inner doors.
Christian pushed himself away from Tate and impatiently pulled open the door, clearly expecting some foolish guard or servant. Richard stood there, perhaps the only man that Christian would not rage against. The prince visibly calmed at the site of him and ushered the captain inside. "Is it done?" He asked immediately, with some nervousness.
Richard didn't answer immediately. His eyes fixed on Tate and the suspicion there was obvious. "My prince-"
"I know of your mistrust of my squire Richard." Christian interrupted viciously. "You have spoken of it often enough that you should be equally aware how I tire of hearing it. Tate is mine and he will not speak out of term." When Christian turned to look at him the halfling instantly dropped his eyes. He felt the other mans gaze on his for a long moment. "Now tell me captain, is it done?"
"I have acquired a vile of foxbane my prince. The apothecary assured me that the content is tasteless and odourless and will be impossible to detect in food or drink." His eyes flickered momentarily over the half-blood before his face became blank of emotion "As you commanded my liege, the apothecary has been disposed of."
Christian closed his eyes tightly for a moment before mouthing a single, undetectable work. "So be it." He eventually whispered aloud. He seemed to take stock of his ruined room then and looked surprised to find his belonging strewn around the floor. He looked at Tate and his expression softened. "Tate, fetch servants to clean this mess. We'll eat in the main hall today." He turned to Richard and clasped the older man on the shoulder. "You have done well my friend. You'll be well rewarded for your service to me."
"Thank you my prince." Richard said, bowing his head deeply. As he rose back up a huge grin spread across his poisonous face. "Or should I say, my king?"
Tate hadn't meant to, he had no idea what possessed him to react at all, but at the sound of Richards words he gagged. The prince and Richard looked up sharply at the sound of the noise and Tate flinched back in horror.
"Have you something to say Tate?" Richard asked, his expression sly as his eyes latched onto the half-blood.
"No," Tate said quickly. "Nothing."
"The thought of me as your king makes you sick?" Christian asked, his tone absurdly hurt.
"Christian please, I swear it doesn't." The hurt was rapidly fading as the prince began to advance on him. The look on his face was clear, he was about to do Tate harm. He couldn't quite grasp his own idiocy as he started to backpedal and felt a sudden rush of anger. "What do you expect?" He cried. "In the name of the gods, you're plotting to murder your own father!"
Christian's skin whitened as he drew himself to his full height. "You dare to talk to me this way?" He demanded, bearing down on Tate with clear fury.
"Do I dare?" Tate spat, edging away as the prince advanced. "You would kill your own father, Christian. Why? He will give you everything you want it time. You only need wait. Don't you see what you're doing is wrong?"
"He is a fool, too old to rule and too dim to realise It." the princes hand shot out and caught Tate by his shirtfront. His drunken eyes shone with self-importance. "The old man will die and by doing so I will make this country strong again. I am doing this for my people."
"You are doing this for yourself. You are insane." Tate whispered.
"I am doing what needs to be done to keep our people strong." Christian snarled as he twisted his hand in Tate's shirt. "Get out." He said, without bothering to check if Richard has done as commanded. His hand lashed out, striking Tate fiercely with a backhanded blow that sent the smaller man stumbling to his knees. The already prominent pain in the Halfling's cheek rose to a sickening intensity and Tate cursed himself and his treacherous mouth. "And you, beautiful one, should know better than to speak to me in this manner." He reached down towards the half-blood and caught a fist full of Tate's hair. He dragged the older man back to his feet and jerked his head back. Tate let out a quiet grunt of pain and repressed the urge to scream as the princes lips pressed against his neck. "You'll be punished for your disrespect." He whispered harshly. "But more than that, you'll be punished for your lack of belief in me. I will be king soon you silly little trinket, and as my first act as a king I'll see to it that you will learn to never question me again."
*******
Lamidor paused as he spied a brawny young man staring heatedly at the group of solider stood opposite him on the street. Tall, broad shouldered with thick honey brown hair and skin that was just slightly too dark to be pure northern, the man's hair was cut in the short northern style and his clothes were as grey and nondescript as anyone else's on the street. He was different though and anyone who cared to study him closely enough would be able to see that.
The tracker approached causally and lent against a wall beside the young man. Two sharp blue eyes looked hostilely back at him and Lamidor offered a casual smile. "You don't mind a bit of company do you my friend? I could do with a rest after the day I've had."
"There's room enough elsewhere." The man said, his tone as unfriendly as his eyes. His accent was clearly not local.
"True enough, but if I were to move on I wouldn't be in such pleasurable company." He turned around until he was fully looking at the other man. "You've a familiar face." He said conversationally as he thoughtfully studied his nails. "I wasn't sure it was you at first, I'd caught so little sight of you before and you've changed yourself much from that day." He looked up suddenly and stared hard into the young man's startled gaze. "I'm certain now though that you're the one I'm looking for. Tell me something tinker, have you heard of the kings half-blooded whore?"
A look of shock and then the tinker bolted. The tracker watched him impassively, knowing he wouldn't get far from before a number of the strategically placed soldiers caught him. The tinker put up a dismal fight against the soldiers, who quickly had him down and subdued. His hands were tied behind his back and he was dragged roughly to his feet.
