The Bastard King

Ch. 6

The air hung heavy with silence, filling the grand banquet hall with an almost tangible tension. Despite the opulence of the setting, the king dined in solemn silence, his gaze fixed upon his plate as if it held the secrets of the universe. Only sporadically did he cast a fleeting glance in my direction, his expression unreadable.

As I raised the goblet to my lips, the rich aroma of the wine mingling with the hushed atmosphere, I sought desperately for words to break through the palpable tension. My thoughts drifted to Finnan and Edward, their fate uncertain in the wake of recent events. With each sip, I pondered how to broach the subject with the king, mindful of his notorious temper and the delicate balance of our conversation.

"This is delicious," I murmured, trying to mask the unease in my voice with false enthusiasm, my fingers tracing the delicate pattern of the goblet.

The king observed me intently, reclining in his seat with an air of calculated nonchalance. His fingers wrapped around the goblet, his eyes never leaving mine. "Ask," he commanded abruptly, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "Go on," he continued, "you want something, what is it?"

I toyed with the knife beside my plate, its sharp edges mirroring the gravity of my thoughts. With a resigned sigh, I set the knife down, mustering the courage to meet the king's unwavering gaze. "I have a younger brother and cousin," I began, the weight of each word heavy on my tongue. His expression remained inscrutable, his silence a daunting barrier. "They were taken by your men."

The king's jaw tightened, casting a shadow of mystery over his features as his dark locks framed his intense gaze. With a decisive gesture, he beckoned a young servant to his side, the urgency palpable in the air as the servant leaned in to catch the king's whispered instructions. In a swift motion, the servant bowed and hastened out of the hall, leaving behind a lingering sense of anticipation.

Turning back to me, the king's demeanor softened, his voice carrying a hint of contrition. "Forgive me, Lady Graelish. I was unaware you had kin. My men will locate them and bring them to you."

A gentle sigh escaped my lips, releasing the tension that had gripped me moments before. My eyelids fluttered shut briefly as I offered a silent prayer of gratitude. Sensing the king's unwavering gaze upon me, I met his eyes with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Is there anything else?" His inquiry cut through the quietude of the hall, prompting me to consider my next words carefully.

I gently shook my head, a stray tendril of hair cascading over my features, veiling the intensity of my expression. His gaze lingered on me, his eyes tracing the contours of my face with a tenderness that caught me off guard, a softness that seemed incongruous with the reputation of the formidable king.

As the weight of his gaze lingered, a fleeting silence settled between us again, laden with unspoken thoughts. I found myself caught in the depths of his dark eyes, searching for traces of sincerity amidst the shadows that danced within them.

A subtle shift in the air signaled the king's contemplation, his features betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the veneer of authority. It was a rare glimpse into the depths of his soul, a momentary lapse in the facade of power that cloaked him.

With a subtle incline of his head, the king broke the silence, his voice a low murmur that reverberated through the hushed atmosphere of the banquet hall. "Lady Graelish," he began. "I understand this is not the life you envisioned for yourself, certainly not one of marriage to a foreign king," he paused, knowing full well that "foreign king" was not the title he was most known for. "But if you remain loyal to me, you shall want for nothing."

His words, laden with both promise and expectation, bore into me with unwavering intensity. I could feel the gravity of his gaze, a silent plea for understanding and maybe even acceptance.
"I do not wish to force you to marry me, despite how the circumstances may seem," he continued, his voice betraying a vulnerability that belied his regal demeanor. He leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath as his hooded eyes peaked at my lips. "When you removed the veil at the selection today, my very breath was taken from me."