♔ cinq || a queen of england will be burned

[ensorceler]

[Micheletto]

You will say nothing.

[/Micheletto]

[Morgana]

My lady.

[/Morgana]

[Sherlock Holmes]

The gospels preach forgiveness, and I would hold it out to you with my own hand. I so rarely offer a third chance, but scholars are much needed in any court. I know wit when I hear it.

If you offer your allegiance, not to England but to your temporary home and territory, then you will be gently handled and well paid for your sharp mind and sharper insights.

[/Sherlock Holmes]

[Spike Spiegel]

Do you, sir, desire for another attempt to win my favor and affections?

[/Spike Spiegel]

Comments

Anne Boleyn

[scinlae]

[ Sleep deigned not to come to her tonight, so her reply is quick: ]

Your Majesty. It is quite late are you having trouble sleeping?

Morgana

[ensorceler]

Why would I waste my time with sleep, when there is always business to attend to?

[ After all, if this is a dream, or if it is Hell, she does not need 'sleep' in any case. It is just an illusion. The nightmares that come with are nothing. She is going to make of this what she will, and nobody is going to stop her anymore. ]

And there are friends to talk with? I did not expect an answer until the light of day, however. Perhaps I should ask after your troubled nights, hm?

Anne Boleyn

[scinlae]

You needn't, they are not troubled. I am awake nights more oft than not.

[ Her nightmares, be they prophetic or otherwise, are a weakness that can be exploited if the wrong people knew of them. She will keep them close to her chest, hugged so tight that none will ever see unless she bids them. ]

Morgana

[ensorceler]

Then it is in the night we will talk amongst ourselves about worries and desires that need not fill the heads of the innocents sleeping soundly in their beds. Will you come to my chambers?

[ Anne would normally just command it (politely), but even in her current devil may care attitude, she understand enough of fear to respect Morgana's ownership of magic. Merlin had stricken that fear in her, it didn't matter which was which, and that is precisely why she goes to this woman instead of him. ]

Anne Boleyn

[scinlae]

[ Though Anne does not know it, she looks to her side, to the sleeping knight in her bed. ]

Of course.

[ensorceler]

[ She shuts her journal soundly and stands to prepare herself for an audience. Elizabeth's words, so very many of them, echo in her head as she readies her sitting room and smooths her skirt, having had the room arranged like an audience chamber not so different from the one in Hampton Court; though it has been decorated to a much warmer and comfortable level — that feminine touch now unrestrained by a king, perhaps.

Though it is the middle of the night, she has not changed garb, still wearing her blood red velvet dress with even the ruby centered jewelry still shamelessly adorning her ears and neck, a gold tiara nestled around the coiled braid centered atop her head.

She waits, even if it is important to make it appear as if she has not been. Appearance always matters. ]

[scinlae]

[ Indeed it is, which is exactly why Morgana chooses to remain in her night clothes. White instead of the black Anne last saw her in, the irony is not lost on her. Nevertheless both dressing gown and the gown itself are intricate enough to pass as proper dress.

Which makes her leaving easy once she escapes her bed and does her hair up in a simple braid that hands over her right shoulder. For a moment she thinks to wake him, her precious knight, only to decide against it and slip out like a ghost.

Her arrival is prompt, not that there was time put upon it, and she knocks on the door twice. Loud enough to be heard but soft enough that it does not stir the others in the hall. The door irritates her, she thinks she should simply let herself in but that is not the way to deal with queens. Or at the very least, it is not the way to deal with this queen. So she waits. ]

Filter;

[gottaknockhard]

[Spike honestly half expected her to forget their drunken encounter, especially after he never followed up with his offer to track down some kidnappers that probably never existed. But it's not the first time he's been surprised by her memory.

Must be something about royalty.]

How's your daughter?

Filter;

[ensorceler]

[ There is an uncomfortable stretch of silence that greets his question, but when she responds, Anne's tone remains perfectly pleasant, though detached. Much more high-handed than at their former encounter on the street, where the familiarity had bordered on intimate. She seems neither cowed nor angry about the arrogance he displayed by handling her; perhaps she doesn't remember, or perhaps she is as practiced as anyone in her time at pretending a midnight rendezvous (intended or otherwise) and sweet promises never happened. It is life or death in the time of Tudor. ]

Why, how kene of you to inquire, bounty hunter. Elizabeth is precisely who I wish to discuss. But not through this trick of the fey, which has proven to everyone an unreliable medium.

You will come to my chambers just before dawn, when the meek stars rapidly begin to fade in readiness of the imminent sun's glory.

[ A teasing lilt accompanies this command in it's poetry. There is nothing wrong with an innocent jest. ]

The sixth floor. I expect you to wear your best.

Filter -> Action;

[gottaknockhard]

[... This all took a strangely formal turn. Even with the complicated way of asking for his company, Spike gets the gist of it. He has to think back to what he might have agreed to that night. Maybe more than he should have, but she seemed to strike a chord in him at the time that he'd been fairly fascinated by. He can't say now that he regrets it.

He also can't argue that talking in person is always a better choice than relying on the journals. That, and her tone has him at least humoring the possibility that she has an understanding of his particular skill set. (What else does he have to do, anyway? Nothing that can't be put off.)]

Fair enough. I'll see you then.

[It may be that he only owns one set of clothes that he overlooked her suggestion to dress for the meeting. He does well just to be at her door near her precise time. Turns out he can be punctual when something really has his curiosity, if not best interests.

Knocking twice, he waits to see.]

Action;

[ensorceler]

[ Somewhat distantly, Anne's voice calls out, ]

Enter.

[ And if he does, he'll find the front room has been arranged like an audience chamber, quite similar to Hampton Court's, even if the comparison might be lost on him. At any rate, the décor has a more feminine touch to it, with no shortage of fresh smelling bouquets wished from the castle and arranged in vases throughout the rooms.

Beyond the first is the actual sitting room with a fire going in the hearth, and it's there that Anne is seated at a small breakfast table by the window, a small book in one hand, and two plates of food set out, each including a fine portion of manchet bread, melon and orange slices, and strawberries. For drink on the stand near, there are pitchers of both wine and ale, not knowing what her guest might prefer.

Especially for Lent, Anne keeps her breakfasts especially light. Not to mention she has little appetite lately. ]

Action;

[gottaknockhard]

[Somehow Spike didn't expect to be greeted by the door; or if he did, he imagines it'd have been by a butler or something like that. Considering that, he's happy to enter on his own. Butlers always seemed to make him feel awkward, like he's expected to pretend they're not there. (Not that he has much experience with them, just so happens that the last woman he worked for from the castle had one.)

He takes a couple of sweeping glances around the room, making his own mental notes about the layout out of habit, before settling on Anne. So they're having breakfast together. That makes him wonder again what kind of dynamic he's supposed to be playing out here -- none of which shows on his face. He simply casually walks up, pulls his hands out of his pockets, and takes the seat he's assuming was left for him.]

I'm glad I came hungry. [Joking. Although he stops short of saying that he should have thought to place his order ahead of time.]

Action; DID YOU SLEEP???

[ensorceler]

[ Anne closes her book and sets it aside when Spike enters and walks over. Though the room is only brightened by candle-light, his outfit seems as alien to her as it did the night they met. Is that really his best? She'll have to send him some new clothes.

Although she hardly expects him to bow, the woman's expression is stone-faced as Spike takes a seat and lets loose his quaint jest. She lets the moment stretch out in a pointedly uncomfortable silence before murmuring quietly, ]

Is that how you greet royalty? After being bestowed the honored invitation of breaking fast in their private chambers, no less?

[ Whether she's serious or joking, it might be impossible to tell with how deadpan her tone is, her eyes betraying nothing. She looks neither angry nor amused, and the flickering of the candles do much to play tricks with the light. ]

Her Royal Highness Queen Anne

[ex_garroter234]

[That filter is him being a dick.]

What is there to say?

Micheletto

[ensorceler]

[ His filter SAYS IT ALL, really. She takes her damn time answering him, because like he needs to think she's all tripping over herself to talk. If she wanted to lower herself to his level, she could make an equally mocking filter, okay, emo child. Instead she's just going to be a bitch in a more obvious way. ]

Nothing. Except that I am hungry, and you are awake. Bring me something to eat, if you are not otherwise occupied with the Lady Borgia who is, of course, not your mistress.

Apples.

HRH Queen Anne

[ex_garroter234]

[He doesn't even care. Churlish as fuck.]

I am presently unoccupied, Your Majesty. Shall I peel the apples before I bring them to you?

Micheletto

[ensorceler]

Yes, but you may slice them here.

HRH Queen Anne

[ex_garroter234]

As you wish. Where shall I go?

Micheletto

[ensorceler]

My chambers are on the sixth floor.

[ You can read right, because if not too bad you can open every door until you got hers. ]

You may enter at your own discretion. I will be in the sitting room. [ Which is past what she has sort of arranged into a makeshift throne room see: Morgana. ]

[ Anne Boleyn ]

[workaphilic]

[In a bizarre way, he's reminded of Mycroft. Changing tactics to sweet-talk him when nationalism falls short.

The comparison doesn't elicit warm feelings.]

You're very fond of that word. Allegiance.

[ Sherlock Holmes ]

[ensorceler]

You do not think it is an important word? Have you loyalties to none, Master Holmes?

[ Anne Boleyn ]

[workaphilic]

On the contrary, I think it's very important.

[He can count the number of people he's loyal to on one hand.]

Which is precisely why mine isn't for sale.

[ Sherlock Holmes ]

[ensorceler]

Then I will simply not pay you, hm?

[ Anne Boleyn ]

[workaphilic]

Best not to fall into that mentality, or you'll lose all hope of new allegiances.. Not many here who will bend their knee for no reason, and they don't come cheap.

[ Sherlock Holmes ]

[ensorceler]

Thus far, you are the first to resist with such enmity. It is not taken with a light heart, Master Holmes.