At the Queens Behest

ArcticAvenue

Randomly Pawing At Keys
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His orders were to stand guard. Nothing more. Hours later, he remained at his duty. Remaining at his duty is all Paul had anymore.

Yet one realization soaked into Paul’s mind over the long hours. Royal guardians have only their own thoughts to keep them company. So in it’s own way, ‘remaining on duty’ had a partner in ‘losing yourself in your mind’.

Paul only took duty as a guard that morning, but is now facing the long hours of the first real test of his medal; a test of will over strength. Such a simple command given by the duty officer: Go to the hallway outside the Captain’s office, and stand until ordered otherwise. Now, as the day turned to night, he had little idea how long this test will continue. The boredom maddening. Already in his mind he had receited every poem of his childhood, sang every song from his army days, and counted the bricks in the opposite wall. Yet if Paul was nothing, he was duty bound. If duty meant he as to stand in this hall until he was ordered otherwise, he will do so.

Now he retold himself the hundredth time how he found himself on the guard. Men dream of such an honor, to put oneself at the behest of Royalty. But it is typically something granted to those whom done something to bestow that honor on their family. Not some footsoldier fresh from the Western Front. The story in his head started like it did those hundred times before. His former field captain called him to meet and the commander’s tent. Paul, finishing his patrol, was muddy & hungry. No good condition to find yourself in the presence of the field commander for the first time of his young life. Paul only knew the man by rank, not even by name.

Yet it seemed the commander knew of him. Knew of his past was just as so. Knew more than Paul ever could believe.

“You came from the royal stables,” he asked.

“Aye, sir. My father were of the horsemen,” Paul replied.

“Were?”

Paul, standing at attention in the commander’s tent. “Aye. Killed in an accident before I was six.”

“Anyone else still there? Family, aristocracy?”

“No sir, me mother is in the city now; be none there at the stables I know anymore.”

The commander smirked, “they seem to know you. At least someone at the castle does. You’ve been selected to join the Royal Guard.”

“Sir?” Paul was stunned by news.

“You heard me. Her majesty's protectors. I have the papers here, if you can read.”

Paul took them and stared at the parchment. It was a short statement, direct and blunt. But it was clearly stating his name, and his appointment.

Before he left, the Commander gave one last comment. “You’ll have your work cut out for you lad. I hear the new queen is quite a handful.”

Of course, change like this takes time for one to really embrace, to really understand. Now that he has arrived. Probably more sense is made from being here as well. The Royal Guard, for all of its tedious boredom, is as prestigious of a position in the Queen’s Army as one could be. To be amongst nobility and charged with their protection is the ultimate in the ability to sacrifice oneself for the cause. Men would give their everything for this position. Yet Paul made no effort to request it. Someone chose him instead.

To him, it would be fleeting to think of this as returning home, because it would not be as it was back then. When he was a boy, Paul ran around these grounds with the other children. Children, especially when the royals are interested in playmates for their own, were given more freedom than their parents along these grounds. Paul assumed that along the way, he must have impressed on someone, like one of the old guards or keepers of the house. Yet in the hours since he had returned, it seems few remain from his youth. With the trouble he got into back then, maybe it was a blessing.

What was unthinkable was that he was there at the Queen’s request. Unthinkable. Surely she had not remembered him. They were so young, so fleeting. Over the passed years, she had surely come across hundreds of people, and now he would be someone in the past she has forgotten. Of course, he would never forget her; how could he. But to believe she would remember him … unthinkable.

Unthinkable.
 
The Cardinal frowned at her and then changed his expression to a stern disapproving look as he hovered over her 5'4 frame. Daring to be so close to her, daring to treat her like a child "I forbid it" he said with a vicious tonality that use to make her quiver as a child. A rage that had been boiling her since she was but a tomboy princess finally reared. A fire in her eyes stared up at him with such an intensity that he took a step back. Her nostrils flared as her shoulders straightened and she became the queen in her core.

"You forget yourself Cardinal" she said with a strength she had never displayed before and she took a step forward forcing him back another step. His doing so made her feel even more empowered.

"You are here because I allow it. I am Queen, not you. You are here to serve MY peoples spiritual needs, and mine when I choose it. You will no longer speak to me as though I am five and covered in mud from head to toe. You will no longer offer your advice or counsel unless I ask you to. Most importantly you will never, and I mean NEVER, tell me what I can and can't do." She took another step forward and he knelt staring up at her.
"Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes your majesty" he said bowing his head. She put forward her hand for him to kiss her ring and he did so most feverishly. One would think that was afraid of loosing his head and was showing his gratitude.

Upon her eighteenth birthday everything had changed. Her father had been killed in a sparring accident. She had pleaded with him not to contend, with a fear that had bubbled with in the pit of her stomach. He dismissed her as being silly. Now she was here, alone and newly crowned Queen.

Her mother had died when she was about 5 or 6. She had taken one of the less broken horses out with the head stableman to work on him. Her mother had been fearless. From the pieces that had been put together it was assumed that something had spooked the horse. Her mother had been thrown and broke her neck, the stable hand had been trampled to death. The horse arrived back at the stables with giant gashes upon it's flanks. The presumed it had been a mountain lion.

Her father shut himself away, and she was left to grieve with stable hands son Paul. They had spent many days and innocent nights creating adventures and such. He was always there to protect her from the other children's bullying and hatefulness.

Anastasia had always been small for her age. Yet she was just as feisty and strong as many of the boys. Paul had taught her all kinds of things, fencing, fishing, and even climbing trees. He was the best part of her childhood. He was the only one that didn't treat her differently because of who she was. She was able discover who she was as a person not just as a monarchs offspring with lace petticoats and expensive presents.

Around the age of 13 she had gone to the stables like she did everyday. He was gone. There was no note, nothing other then one of the stablemen telling her he joined the army. She thought she was going to die from agony of the pain she felt from his absence. For days she kept herself locked away drowning in her own tears. Pulling herself from it she remembered something he had said once. You are a princess, you can do whatever you want.'

She learned quickly how to wall up the young woman she was and be the princess she was meant to be. Everyone had roles they had to play in their life. Hers was no different. Creating humanitarian projects to help her fathers people became what the past fives was compiled of. Taking criticism and being chastised by the cardinal, who took more of a role as a substitute father figure then her own did, seeing as his role was King. Somewhere in her mind she also believed that it hurt him to look at her because she grew into a beautiful young woman that was almost a mirror image of her mother.

Ana's new role was Queen, and she would not be bullied by anyone any longer. But she also didn't want to loose the girl that had once climbed a tree in her petticoat. For that, she would need Paul. He was the one person that could remind her of who she was.

"You are Dismissed Cardinal." she said cooly as she took her seat back upon her throne. She wanted to smile and laugh at her triumph over the cardinals hold on her that she had just shattered. But there was no one here. Rising up after the cardinal had left she went into her den telling one of the stewards to send for the Captain of her royal guard.

When it arrived she looked up from the papers she was reading over. "Your Majesty" He said bowing.

"Please shut the door and come in"

He did so and stood at attention.

"Has it been done?"

"Yes your Majesty, he has been located and commissioned into the royal guard as you wished."

"Good. It is important Captain, that the other men do not know it was a personal request of mine. I do not wish him to be treated any different then any of the other guard or have it supposed to favoritism or any such thing. I want him put through the same training as any other member. However, I want him to be assigned as my own personal royal guard."

"Your Majesty?"

"In the near future, there will be a considerable amount of... candidates. that will be requesting my hand in marriage. There is more then likely to be a great deal of objections they haven't quite anticipated. Although I may be mighty in pen, my stature tends to inspire a lack of ..cordial behavior.. that one may feel the desire to try to take. I would feel safer with my own personal guard. One that is with me at all times. A chaperone if you will that will be responsible for maintaining my safety hence guarding my reign for quite a bit longer then my enemies anticipate.
You see Captain, I will not be forced into marriage. I will rule on my own with gods help regardless of the Cardinals.. wishes."

Taking a drink from her goblet she continued.

"My father the King, told me once that you were one of the most trusted of all his advisers. I anticipate that you will continue to maintain your discreetness when it comes to our conversations and maintain the silence of them. To betray a Queen, is to betray your Country which as you know is Treason."

She watched his face for any displeasure in what she just said and saw none. "Wonderful, I'm glad we're in agreement then. You are dismissed Captain, please advise me when we are ready to go forward with my request."
 
The grand hall hummed impatiently with the crowd of nobility & their servants. Many attired in their formal garb, intent on business that needed to occur; while others wrapped themselves in finery against the spring morning chill. Yet the place grew uncomfortably warm by the masses standing about, and the growing day’s streaming in through the windows. Only the more elder visitors were granted chairs with their servants hovering closely near them. The rest tried what they could to form clusters of conversations. In this court, only one would be afforded any kind of comfort; and she was late to arrive.

Paul stood near a window, feeling blessed that the leaded glass nearest him had cracked and a sliver of the cool morning mist brushed against his neck. He also felt blessed that he uniform of this new duty seemed more designed for these situations. The royal purple tunic and tan riding pants would him as much protection in battle as parchment paper; and the padded leather shoulder bindings would only slow an arrow enough to not pass through completely. Yet the heavy mail he wore in the field would be stifling in this place. Gladly he was not asked to wear a helmet either, only the black guardsman hat that only dropped over his eyes enough to seem all the guards were faceless. For Paul, that may work in his favor; his youthful & freckled face and light hair surely would make one mistake him for a boy. Still, he rued the day he may have to actually fight in this costume, as any strike by an opponent would surely cut, and likely kill.

This would be his first duty to be amongst the royalty. His training to this point only seemed instruction of protocol. One fellow guard spent hours showing him the correct means to clean his pike & sword so that it shined appropriately. Another forcing him to spend hours standing at attention as he criticized every movment, twitch, or break from the stoic presences required. They were good lads, though, good enough to tell him this first duty had nothing to do with him being ready, and everything to do with noone wanting the to be at the Queen’s Court.

So like the others in the room, Paul waited patiently for the court to begin, and ached as the time passed without a start to this business.

Yet he also was eager. This, his first duty with the guard to protect the queen.

The first time he would be in the presence of the queen.

The first time to see the Queen in so many years.

Patience. Strength. Composure. That time will come.

For some time the noise rose and fell, groups finished business with each and four more to meet. He could hear questions of whether or not the queen would come at all. Questions of her imprudence to make them wait as much. Some side questions of other misdoings or biting commentary of the youthful leader. Maybe there were true, maybe they came from bored mouths, but they floated in the air like the heat.

Finally the doors to the hall burst open, a stately gentlemen entered, and called:

“Ladies & Gentlemen, Her Majesty Queen Anastasia.”

And Paul fought to keep the air from running completely from his lungs.
 
Anastasia hand popped out and smacked the dressmaker on his head as she stood for the adjustments to her new gown. "Watch what you're doing, if you prick me again i'll have the guard prick you with his sword, and we'll measure who bleeds more."

She was irritated that this was taking so long and she was running late. Technically it was her fault. She insisted in the last couple of hours that she had to have a new gown Not because she cared what the people at court thought so much, as it would be the first time he would be seeing her since they were children.

Her nerves were on edge, would he even remember her? They were just children when he left. She would have to avoid looking at him if she was going to make it through the day. The Captain had yet to assign him to her person. That would be taking place with in the next day or so. But he would be there like a fixture watching and listening to the bickering of the nobles. She rolled her eyes at the song and dance she would have to put on for them.

Half of which wanted to see her fall on her face, the other half wanted something in return for their support. How she longed for the days where she could run free like a banshee and play in the fields. At least her Paul would be there, and he would never be able to leave her side again. At least not if he wished to remain part of the royal guard.

"done your majesty" came the words of the dress maker who backed away and bowed to her as she checked out her dress in the mirror. "Very good thank you" She handed him his payment plus a bonus which earned more groveling and thanking her. She felt bad for the people who worked until their bodies broke and still only managed to get by. That was one of the things on her secret agenda she would be slowly changing. She knew if she moved to fast on anything the Nobles would have a fit.

She began her decent toward the great hall. Her ladies in waiting jogging slightly to keep up with her quick walk. The doors opened and she was announced. The sound of boots clicking together and people dropping down to one knee was one of her favorite sounds from watching it happen for her father. "My apologies for keeping you all waiting, twas not something I could control."

Taking her seat upon her throne her eyes scanned the crowd careful to avoid looking for him in the spread out display of guards. "Please rise"
"Before we begin, I would like to thank you all for attending. I have reviewed all of the requests that had been delivered prior to the deadline. I did not, and will not review the ones that came after the time they were do."

"Your Majesty If I may" Lord Connley spoke up..

"No Lord Connley you may not. I am still speaking you shall wait your turn like everyone else." she heard a bit of chuckling and then she continued.

"As I was saying. I am your Queen, I will not make exceptions for those that waited until the last minute. I will however be addressing your issues once a month instead of once every two months. I am also reviewing the issues of your tenants as well. I have spoken with the Captain of my royal guards and we will be forming a non biased investigation team. To gather evidence and interviews for both parties. These positions will be equally comprised of landowners as well as non landowners." Murmuring could be heard with soft inaudible objections.

"Your appointments will be sent with in the next week. Your patience in this matter is most appreciated."

"You can't do this" Lord Jaque said speaking up. "What is your object Lord Jaque? The fact that you're guilty of several offenses against your tenants and think your title gives you special privileges to do as you wish? Or that the penalty will be the loss of your title and possibly your head depending on the severity?" there was a hush quiet that over came the room.

"Long has the people that work these lands been bullied and treated unfairly because it suited some and i'm glad to say very few of you, to do so. This will stop. I am my fathers daughter, I am the rightful queen of this country appointed by god himself. I will not bow down before your whims like a quivering child. As entitled we have privileges that others do not, but we are not better than them because of it, nor does that gives us the right to mistreat any of our fellow man."

She stood boots clicked and the people dropped again. As she descended her ladies in waiting followed behind her as she exited the room.
 
“Where’s my custard tart?”

The smirk blonde boy spun towards his younger cousin with a smile broken by a mouth crammed full of something. “Gone.”

“That’s my custard tart.” She stomped her foot impishly. The princess, dressed in a nice red summer dress stained brown by their play amongst the gardens, turned fearse in the afternoon sun. “I was saving that!”

“Saving it for me, I guess,” the elder boy said as crumbs burst between his teeth. Quickly he ran off with the other boys, sons of nobels and dukes, to play their games.

The girl took a few steps still screaming, “Come back here Thomas.” She looked around as if trying to find one of the attending servants to come down on the boy. “That was my tart. I wanted that tart.”

Paul could see the girl shaking. Her voice angry and demanding, but even a Princess can be treated like a little girl by cruel boys. As much as she tried to be expectant, her heart was breaking from the unfairness of it all. Now left alone, she slumped to the ground and seemed on the verge of tears, while on the verge of being strong enough to overcome this great tragedy. In his young life, he had never seen such juxtaposition. Youth, fortitude, anger, loss … all over a custardy treat.

He pulled his own teatime snack, a small pastry wrapped in a cloth emerged. Likely not as good as the royal tarts, but it was all he had. None had told him he couldn’t approach the princess; but that was always implied. He crept the short distance from the woods to the blanket where she sat, kneeled down, and put the pastry there by her side.


…………………..

Paul did what he could to remain composed during her court. She was older, stronger, more stately; but otherwise unchanged. No wonder they called her a difficult queen. Annie hadn’t changed. If there was something she did not like, she was not silent about it … quite the opposite. Standing her ground in front of these nobles was such a deep reminder to their youth that it was hard not to beam with laughter. Back then the little girl would stand up to anything. Now no longer a little girl, her stance could break down a giant.

As the court ended and the queen left, a quiet command came from the lieutenant next to him.

“Escort the queen.”

He made a brief look to the lieutenant and his glance back told him what he needed to know. Tensions amongst those in the chamber rose, enough that a threat could be made against her. Of course, these people likely couldn’t raise a hand in violence much more they could raise their arms to remove their shirt. But the Queen’s safety was their first duty.

Paul snapped to attention, and turned sharply to move to the join the queen’s parade. Normally, he could be expected to lead the group, but he hadn’t known where they are going, and the threat from behind was greater. In fact, he had not known for how long or how far to follow. But his orders were direct and real. Escort the queen. So that is what he did.
 
Ana felt as though she barely breathed during the address. She was pretty sure she managed to show no fear, despite her nerves being on fire. It would be so much easier if her father had been there to hold her hand. As they reached her chambers, she stopped and turned to address the ladies that all stopped and were staring at her. "Ladies it is a beautiful day, and I believe some of the gentleman shall be in the gardens with hope of your acquaintance. Please feel free to join them and take part in the picnics."

The girls giggled and curtsied glad for the potential prospects that awaited them. The sooner she married off these ninnies the happier she would be. She hated having them around, and listening to their gossips and such. As the last girl left she found herself face to face with Paul.

She opened her mouth and for a brief moment forgot herself as she stopped herself from hugging him tightly in the joy she felt pulsating through her body in seeing her old friend again. Instead she closed her mouth, turned and opened the door to her chamber entering it for him to follow and close behind him. She went to her desk and sat down staring at the pile of papers.

Finally she spoke as she looked over her papers. "It is my understanding that you are being assigned to me as my personal escort. Evidently i have caused quite a stir among the nobles today" a mischievous smirk crossed her lips for a moment before she continued and her face went straight again. "and extra precaution is advised. With this being the case you will never leave our person unless specifically designated to do so by me."

She looked briefly up at him then back to her papers. "I cannot see your face in that hat. It would please us if you would keep it off in chambers."
 
”With this being the case you will never leave our person unless specifically designated to do so by me.”

This was unexpected. Paul fought to hide his shock by the command, to remain stoic in his stance and attention. His eyes focused in front of him, he couldn’t help to quickly glance at her before returning his eyes front. He took a quick breath in and responded. “Yes, your majesty.”

When relieved, he would have to report this to his captain. He would have to have the man confirm it as well. But her instructions were specific and direct; and the Queen’s instructions always outweigh any of those below her. So by the meer command, it will be her discretion when he would actually be relieved.

"I cannot see your face in that hat. It would please us if you would keep it off in chambers."

“Yes, your majesty,” he repeated, and removed the hat from his head. The dommed covering fit under his arm, as he stood at attention by the door and did little to reduce the stiff manner he stood.

Paul worried, though, that removing the hat would now cast him in a poor light. Not that it was a breach of uniform, which in fact it was, but moreso that it did little to keep an impressional look to him. The time spent in the court, the time spent at attention, and the time spent in this heat surely left his hair a mess. It was likely improper, unbecoming to a guard to the Queen.

Moreso, he worried that Annie would find it unkempt and ugly. Years of waiting to see her once more, and he could not even properly comb his hair.

Annie. She wasn’t Annie anymore though, was she. Annie was such a name you called a little playmate whom was just as quick to make mud pies with you as show some sense of decorum. The queen was no longer that. No longer a little girl. Paul stole glances at the woman as she worked over her papers in the dress that was made more for governing over a court than documents. The dress dropped along her chest to present the growth that happens when girls become women. The lace dropped in places to give hints that the continuation of her soft skin underneath. Her hair, lifted elegantly to pins in the back, gave way to a neck that itched to be kissed.

Paul’s mouth curled, his lips tapped against each other, his tongue felt dry as sand as these thoughts tempted him. In the short time he had followed her orders, he had done well to remain steady; but a need arose to give that it’s first challenge. Besides, he reasoned, she had commanded him to stay with her, not do so without refreshment.

“Your majesty, may I be allowed to quench a thirst,” he asked.
 
Ana looked up to see his tussled hair and strong jaw. He still retained some of his boyish looks, which pleased her immensely, He had always been one of the handsomest men that she had ever known. She wanted to hug him tightly and have him tell he that everything would be okay. As he did when they were children.

"You may roam freely, we do not object to you taking refreshment or food in our presence while within the confines of this room. I need not tell you that ale is not an option while on duty. Feel free to read as long as you can snap to attention in the event someone knocks."

Yes this was unconventional, but by definition so was she. She didn't see a reason for him to be uncomfortable while she worked. "You also have my permission to use the secret passages. If they wishes to lock my chamber door you may exit through those and return in two hours with your things. There should be a cot at the foot of my bed and a cupboard there for you."

He did well to hide his feelings on her appointment-ship. "You will sleep when i sleep, when able i will allow you some of your own time. This is our wish"
 
“A cot?” the Captain scoffed, his thick brows furled. “Does she think you a lap dog?”

“I don’t know sir,” Paul responded, his stiff stance holding while in his superior’’s chamber.

With a sarcastic tone, the Captain sneered. “Surely she thinks that some fool would breach our walls and bust forth into her presence.”

A lieutenant snickered, “or breach her own lady wall.”

Paul’s face reddened, half from the frank comment, but also that it was directed to the virginal queen. “I only relay the orders sir, and with all due respect, I should return.”

“What’s the rush, pup?” the cheeky lieutenant chimed, “are ya late for a nice game of fetch?”

“No sir,” Paul responded, “I … I just left her under the guise that I needed a nature break.”

The captain nodded, more serious as if understanding Paul’s predicament. “I will have a word with her later, but understand that I don’t care much to sway her on such a petty thing. So best get back there,” he paused and added, “before she decides to tie a collar to you and walks you herself.”

Paul quickly moved back to the secret passage that led back to the queen’s chamber, satisfied he has done his proper duty to inform his superiors.. Yet, he was just as satisfied that there was no effort to keep him from performing this strange new role.

When Annie …. When the Queen informed him of this command, he fought to protest. Like those other guards, he found it insulting that he would need to sleep the foot of her bed, to spend all his time there. But as she looked up from her shorter form and made this demand, all he could concentrate on was the gentle curve of her neck, and the brief hint of a freckle along the collar. There was some long waited urge to lean down, to nuzzle that, to feel close to this woman. When they were children, of course he never had such mature thoughts for her, but she had grown so beautiful.

With a long, deep breath he reached the chamber door. He straightened his uniform and prepared to enter her presence once more. It had only been a short time that he was gone, but he was already eager to gaze on her again. He keyed the door, and opened it back to her room.
 
Ana was taking a break from the pile of letters and was staring out the window to the fields. Tears fell softly from her eyes as she took the moment to revel in the utter feeling of loneliness that burdened her soul. She had no one that she could confide in, no one to tell her that everything would be okay. It had been a long time since she had felt the comfort of just being herself.

While he was gone she had a comfortable lounge brought in and placed at the foot of her bed. It would be more comfortable then a regular cot. Hearing a noise she wiped her eyes before turning to him. "We didn't expect you back so soon. We would have thought you'd relish in not having to be in our company."

She didn't expect a response it was simply a statement. She knew she was a difficult person, she knew that this could be considered one of the worst details that could be assigned. After all, who would want to be stuck babysitting a temperamental queen?

Having him near her, gave her strength that she needed to do what needed to be done. But she couldn't tell him this. She couldn't tell him that he was the only person that she could be free with. But they had been so young. Was she simply holding on to the last of her good memories by keeping him around. What could it possibly achieve?. It wasn't as if she could marry him. She was going to have to wed a prince. Although she considered him to have better breeding then many she had met. He still wasn't a prince.

Ana pondered this while she looked blankly at the request in front of her. Perhaps she could simply justify it to herself that with her, she was sure he stayed safe. Though she doubted that he would think of that as honorable. Glancing up at him then back down to her page she began to wonder if what she had done was selfish.
 
Paul crossed the room, and did a slow inspection of the couch that was now at the foot of the bed. This change gave him reason to focus on something other than the girl. It was no bed, no cot, yet if he was to sleep there, it would be far more extravagant than any place he had slept in his life.

He spoke without turning to her, still trying keep his focus. “With all due respect, your Majesty; the captain, he knows now of what ya ask of me. He says that he may speak to ya about it, but seems he might not too.” Paul forced his words, trying to sound more intelligent than he knew he was. In the army, noone cared what your sounded like as long as you did your duty. But here, with the queen.

Still doing what he could to avoid looking at the girl, he wandered over to a shelf of books. She told him earlier that he could read if he wanted. Wanting to was not the issue with him, and scanning the things on the book covers, he did the best he could to see if one was suited to him.

His search left him with little to discern, short of opening each one and searching. Swallowing his pride, he asked, “Does the queen have one with … pictures? Sketches?”
 
His question had hit her hard. She was already questioning whether or not she was being selfish, and hadn't bothered to question whether or not he had been taught letters. It had never entered into her mind, everyone around her of any importance had been schooled.

"I am afraid not in my collection, but I shall obtain some for you." she said as plainly as she could without displaying any amount of sympathy or humor at his situation. She knew that it wasn't his fault that he didn't know his letters. It was the fault of the civilization that they lived in.

"If I were to offer would you want to learn your letters?" she asked him lightly. There was nothing wrong with a commoner to learn words. To educate the people would be an enrichment over the society they lived in. One of the many things she wanted to do was establish a school for boys and girls of Pauls upbringing.

She simply dismissed his comment about the Captain. It didn't matter whether he spoke to her or not. Paul would stay by her side. This was her wish, so this is the way it would be. The only thing that may change that would be if he requested it. But would he? Would he ever feel that kinship they had as children?
 
Paul turned to look to the lady. The offer she gave him was good intent, sweet actually. None actually had suggested he learned to read; but then again, he never had a need for it. Since the first time he saw her again, he allowed himself the comfort to smile.

A plan formed in his mind to pass the time, and it started with pulling a book from the shelf; one that was random and carried no meaning to him. He walked across the floor towards her desk with it in hand; the slow controlled place allowing his boots to click on the hard wood floor like a metronome.

“I di’na think it be right for ya to teach me letters,” he stated. “The crown must have greater duties than my learnings.”

Paul reached across her desk, towards a stack of blank parchment, and he pulled a few of them up. Next to it, charcoals. Paul did not know his letters, but he always knew how to draw. With the book, he could place the paper on something hard, and sketch the time away.

Yet he lingered there as he pulled the papers together. Paul loomed over her. The sitting queen, small in stature, was nearly underneath him as he arched over top of the desk. The gentle smell of flowers and spices seemed to waft from her perfumes and clothing. To this point, he only had her vision to remind him how much the little girl princess had affected his youth, now he is remind how the lady queen could affect him as a man.

Paul collected himself, turned away, and moved to couch. Telling himself to not look at her, not let himself be anything but her protector. He did so, and intended just to draw.
 
It took her a moment to calculate her response as he told her what he though she should do. She watched as he took the paper and began to sketch before speaking up. "Do you presume to know what is right for us?" she questioned. "Or is it as simple as you don't wish to learn and better yourself? Do you wish to remain a guard of my person forever?"

Perhaps it was a bit slightly offense that he had denied her request and told her what he though she should be doing. But it was also a bit painful that had rejected her attempt to spend some time with him. She couldn't have very well just come out and said that was the reason. Perhaps he was right, perhaps this whole idea of having him near her was a bad one. He obviously resented being forced to do it.

She scoffed and stood up pushing the chair back roughly. She suddenly felt trapped and confined as a prisoner must in a cell. She could go to the garden but then she would have to socialize and deal with the begging and requests. She could go riding, or better yet she could go to the country manner. There she would be at least free to be alone.

Pulling on the tassle bell, she went and unlocked her door. One of the servants came quickly bowing. "Pack my trunk with five day dresses, and riding clothes, have the coach brought around. Tell no one else." she told the girl who nodded and went to work.
 
From his seat, he quietly moved the pencil against the paper, working his sketch the best her could. There was a subtle surrealness to his activities at this point. No matter where he was when he left the estate as a boy, he spent what time he had to himself with his sketches. More often than not, he only sketched one thing, over and over again in all the different ways his imagination could take him to. Except now, what he sketches was sitting at a desk not a few feet away from him. All the details of her cheeks, her lips, her eyes could be seen in stolen glances. He dared not sketch the parts of her he could not see, something in quiet nights in a tent he did and did often; instead it was the appreciation of the here and now that allowed him to create the picture of what sat across the way.

Paul rose to his feet when she called her servent, quick to be on his guard, and quick to not give the impression to any strangers of anything different. The sketch fluttered to the floor at his feet; but he left it untouched rather than disgrace himself by breaking attention.

Her command to the lady in waiting was direct, blunt, and precise. He tilted his head as he listened and considered how he should react and what he should say. Finally he spoke.

“Forgive the assumption, milady, but ya sound as though you be stealing away from the castle. Ya know well, my duty won’t allow me to let ya; but I guess ya knew that.”

He straightened his uniform, as he stood to discuss the matter with her.

“I have a duty, a sworn duty milady, that I warn me captain of your plans, now that I know of it, so he can put a stop to this madness.” With a long breath he stated, “So if it pleases you, your majesty, may you speak on my behalf when we return so that I don’t lose me job?”
 
She raised an eyebrow as he told her he wasn't going to let her do this, then again at the words 'stop this madness'.

It seemed as though he reconsidered his current frame of thought when he asked that she would speak on his behalf so he didn't loose his job.

"As long as you remember that I am queen, and that no one can tell me what I can or can't do. If I choose to go on holiday i'll bloody well do it. Be careful with your opinions of madness."

She turned on her heels away from him and stacked her papers placing them in a chest. "Have someone grab this chest and be sure to gather your own belongings we are leaving in ten minutes. You are also under the command to tell no one."

Spinning on her heals once again she waited at the door for him to escort her. She hated that she had to be so cold him. Perhaps once they were in the country away from everyone they could familiarize themselves as they once were. It would be nice to have someone to talk to.

Paul had been one of the smartest people she had known as a child. It was true he couldn't read. But that never seemed to hinder his ability to learn. That was at least her opinion. It was a common perception that people that couldn't read were just meant to be laborers, or in the guard. If he would let her teach him, he could very well excel. It was true that he would never be able to be a suitor, even if she gave him a title. But if he learned to read, perhaps at one point she could make him an adviser. That was if he'd let her.

People were often stubborn about changes such as that. Obviously it would show her to favor him which could cause him some issues. Regardless, the first step was to get away from here and go from there.
 
It had helped that he knew his way around the stables. The short timeline she gave him left him little room to hesitate, let alone tell anyone. With a minute to spare, he had pulled up to a side gate with a cart of her chest and a small bundle of his belongings; and two riding horses - one for each of them. He even had time to throw a cloak over his uniform, in case someone could question why a royal guard would be messing about as much.

Of course he knew his way around the stables, it was his home for his entire youth. Where he learned to earn his keep, mind his manners, and build his strength. While he had a proper cot with the rest of the help, he had made himself a proper home in the upper hay loft. A blanketed hole to hide away from the world if need be; where he could draw to his heart’s content. Where he hung his sketches and prints, his one true joy. A secret place he never showed anyone; not even Annie - but she it wouldn’t be proper asking a princess there. When he went off to the army he sometimes would think of what it would be like to take her up there, show her his little room, show all the pictures he drew of her … maybe draw a few more … maybe more than draw …

The queen! He snapped his mind into focus. These indecent thoughts he still harbored, this childish swooning, it was over a woman above his standing. One that will never lower herself to anything but a Lady.

He breathed deep. Pulled his cloak tight over him. Waited for the queen to make her escape.
 
Ana was a little surprised to see the cart and horses awaiting for her instead of her carriage that she had requested. But it was obvious Phillip had thought ahead. Of course this would be less conspicuous then riding a royal carriage to cottage. It had been a while since they had allowed her to go horseback riding.

Grabbing the main and the saddle she manage to get herself, not so gracefully, upon the back the horse. The feeling of the muscles of the horse ignited a rush of adrenaline that she hadn't felt in ages. Sitting astride she patted the horses neck and took the reins and began to walk off as if they were just in a leisurely stroll with the horses around the grounds.

They managed to leave without little notice. She had placed a cloak over her dress as well to help conceal her identity. "I never thanked you for teaching me how to ride" she said softly breaking the silence as they took the back paths toward the country house. "You were always so nice to me, even though I was a spoiled brat. You were the best friend I ever had. So thank you". With that she clicked her tongue and heels and gave her horse some rein to gallop.
 
“Aye, ya were quite the spoiled brat,” as quick as he let it out he caught himself and stammered, “ya … ya majesty.”

Maybe it was smelling the stables, standing around the horses, riding along in the fresh country air, or just seeing the queen act much like the girl he grew up with; but he was pulled back again to that playful time. She had, of course, made him buck his officers to agree to this new adventure, not more than a few hours after she changed his how duty was to be executed to be at her side constantly. By his best guess, she was why he was at the castle no anyways. The little spoiled brat, the one he thought had forgotten him a hundred times over, no clearly had not.

Her gallop had created some space between the two of them, but he kept the cart moving quickly to keep up. She was leading, he was following, and even if she ran the whole of the country, there was something uncomfotable with her intention to lead. Still, he loved to watch her ride. She didn’t sidesaddle like a proper woman, so the way she leaned over the beast presented the features a man shouldn’t picture in his queen. He always loved to watch her ride though, and it shouldn’t stop him now.

He shouted ahead to her. “May I ask, your ladyship. Where we be goin’? You said it be a holiday, and I tink you would not tell me in case I tells me captain, but I maybe we are safe enough for you to tells me now?”
 
Slowing her horse she turned back to come up along side him then turned to ride beside him.
"Do you remember the country house that is hidden? We use to play there as children when my mother wanted to escape the castle. I've had it maintained in secret. I'm not even sure my father ever knew about it. There I can just be Ana, you can drop the formalities. Looking up to him her facial expressions were more of a young girl rather then his queen. "Are you truly upset Paul that I had you brought to my side? That I had you made into my personal guard?"

Before he could answer she pointed up to the left. "There is the hidden path, by the 'nose' rock as we called it. It was about a half a mile or so ahead and barely visible. But the sight of it seemed to lighten her demure even more and bring her voice to the shrill of an excited young girl.
 
The boy raised a stick high into the air, “I am Saint George. I can pretend to be the dragon ‘unter.”

The girl beamed as she swung her feet on the rock. “Then who am I?”

“And you pretend to be the princess,” he replied, “and I can save ya.”

“But I am already a princess.”

“No you ain’t”

“I am, and I ain’t gonna be a princess in pretend.”

Paul took a moment to consider it, and let that thought sink in. Of course she was a princess, but not like from the stories they used to tell him. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. She was Annie, firey funny Annie, and nothing like a princess. The boy smirked and waved the stick around his head, “then you be the dragon, and I will slay ye.”

He poked her with the stick in her belly, just enough to make her giggle.

“Die ye dragon, or I shall turn ye into a Princess.”

…..

Of course he remembered the house, how could he not. But that wasn’t the point was it. The queen was truly different now they were away from the castle. Truly different. He wasn’t ready for it when it came, but it came so naturally now. She pointed out the country house, where they used to play. She talked about it as if she knew he knew about it; knew that everything before then was a formality. Now, there wasn’t any to be made.

"Are you truly upset Paul that I had you brought to my side? That I had you made into my personal guard?"

He smirked and tilted his head down towards the road. “Honestly, milady ... “ the pause soaked in the air as he measured his words carefully. “No, I weren’t upset. More worried. Didn’t think ye remembered me. But … you just called me Paul.”

The smirk of the little boy looked over at her as she rode on. She pointed towards the turn, and he guided the cart onward. Her voice, her mannerisms, it was all different, but it was a different that was more what he remembered.

“Formalities or not, I do have me a duty. So best you let me make sure ya safe … or I shall turn ye into a Queen.”
 
She let out a burst of laughter that echoed. A feeling of warmth entered her as the connection that she had thought was lost so many years ago was instantly rekindled.

"But I'm already a Queen, and I won't be a pretend one" she retorted back remembering as that day came rushing back. "But I shall try to remember you have a job to do. Though, I can't promise i'll make it easy on you" She turned her head and stuck out her tongue to him before urging her horse forward ahead of him and heading down the path to the house.

The first thing that hit her senses were the smells. She loved the lavender fields and wild flowers whose fragrance flooded the air. The way the trees branches seemed to form an arch over the path welcoming them. When she reached the house it was quiet. There would only be a maid and a cook that would come for the day and leave them in the evenings. Privacy, she would finally have some peace.

Reaching the house she slowed her horse and smiled as the memories came back. Over there he had taught her how to use a sling shot, they had played pirates in the field, and at night they would sit in the loft in the barn and create stories about the stars.

Dismounting she took her horse into the stable as Paul had finally arrived. She took off the saddle and proceeded to brush down her horse and give him some hay. Brushing off her dress she came out to meet Paul, "take the trunks inside, and I'll put the horse and cart away."
 
The country house always pulled Paul in different directions. Their childhood visits here were occasional, but not constant. While he had been nothing more than a stable hand, it was still a position on a grand manor as part of the royal estate. So the meager and simple life of the country house still was a far cry from what his natural surroundings were. He would need to stoke a fire soon, as much for the light as the warmth. They were graced with warm weather, but if it were winter or rainy, the house likely would do little to hold out the cold. Windows mostly made of wood to keep out squatters barely let light in through their cracks. The stone works of the walls felt more like it was built from what was available not of a builders plan. Yet it still was grand enough to allow for a quiet family. Kitchen with a hearth, seperate rooms for sleeping, pantry, space for reading, and even a privy … as one does not take one too far from the finer things, Paul surmised.

Paul fell into the comfort of avoiding protests for the Queen’s behavior now. The woman whom sat court over the masses earlier that day should never have to lift a finger; yet who was he to stop her from tending to the horses. Besides, the trunks were heavy, and definately a man’s work. As well, Annie knew her way around a horse; even if she was a queen.

Yet it was there that was the problem that ate away at him. Paul as a child, rarely saw Annie as royalty. Maybe that’s why she tolerated him, because even a child could see that wasn’t how the rest of their world treated her. Queen Anastasia still remained queen of the land. It didn’t matter how he had previously treated her, it is what she is now, and his duty was what it was as well.

What he also had to admit was that they weren’t children anymore either. While he would in no way question Annie’s innocence, his was questionable at best. He had been to war. He had seen things that he could not forget. He had taken of the spoils. He had taken of others.

As he cleaned the cottage, stoked the fires, and brought this house to life. He tried his best to remember the childhood he spent here, and remembered how it felt to not worry about these things. Whatever comes of this new duty, at least he could have that.
 
Ana was glad that he hadn't argued about her taking care of the horses. After he took down the trunks she led the horse and cart into the stable backing it in, then unharnessing the horse. It did take her a few moments of fumbling to remember quite how it was done. She hadn't done this in as many years as Paul had been absent from her life.

Cooing and talking lightly to the 1000 pound beast she finally got it loose and took it to it's own stall to be rewarded with hay and oats. She brushed him down singing lightly to him until she was satisfied with the job she had done. Closing the doors and putting the bar in place she made her way up to the house.

When she entered it was lit and cozy. The furniture had been uncovered and Paul stood stoking the fire. "I would like to heat up some water for a bath, and will need your assistance in getting out of this getup. I realize it's an inconvenience, but the maid and cook don't come until tomorrow. I don't think sleeping in these clothes is an option either. I'd like to put on something less.. well less this." she said using her hands to accentuate the getup she was forced to wear as a queen.

Sensing that he may be uncomfortable with the idea she added. "Here it's just your Annie not the queen remember that Paul."
 
OOC: Yeah, I'm Back!!!!

Paul continued to lay smaller logs in the hearth. The fire growing enough now to sustain itself, but it didn’t stop him from continuing. The queen asked of his duty, and of course he was to fulfill them. That being said, her requests made camp in the parts of his mind he wished they didn’t.

“Bath water, milady,” he replied. “Yes, I will make it ready.”

He could work quickly to draw the water, heat it, and leave her privacy; but her other request now grew more troubles. That first part is what he planned to do, and in the meantime figure out the rest.

“I will be straight to the well than,” Paul stated grabbing a large pot and moving to the door. In the time it took him to fill the pot, and haul it back to the house, he had determined to find some reason to avoid the request, or at least to ask Annie a means to break free of it. The idea that she would be bathing with only him as supervision sent his mind racing and his blood warming. He could leave her to her needs, but the idea that he would have to help her undress would force him to be so close to the young queen that whatever state of undress she allows herself to be will not go unnoticed. It was not the way a royal guard should see his queen. It is not the way a boy should see his young playmate, no matter how many years had passed.

He entered the home, his eyes cast only to the fire and placing the pot on the heat, and without looking towards he he stated. “All due respect, milady, I be no expert of your finer things. I’d not know how to get you out of your dress. Besides, would it not be proper?”
 
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