Astoria

t w e n t y - t h r e e

That evening, Meredith couldn't sleep. She had too much on her mind. She continued to wonder how her mother would receive her letter, and she still felt somewhat guilty about not having spoken to Evan in so long. She felt somewhat trapped, her breathing coming a bit quicker than usual.

She sat up and slid her feet into slippers, standing and crossing the floor to the door of her room. Once in the hallway, she felt somewhat better. She continued down the corridor, not knowing where it led, never having been this particular way before. She took several turns, not having a real destination in mind and found herself at the end of the east wing of the palace, where a huge picture window looked out over the river. It was open, and the slight breeze that blew in was enough to blow a few loose strands of her dark brown hair into her face. She closed her eyes and stood there, basking in the light of the almost full moon and the cool air.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?"

She was startled by the low voice, its owner hidden in the shadows. She squinted into the darkness, trying to see the speaker.

She took a step backwards, bumping against the window seat, as Antony stepped into the rectangle of moonlight.

"I'm...sorry..." she began.

"Are you aware that this particular corridor contains the rooms belonging to the King's suite?"

"Your rooms?" she said dumbly, mentally kicking herself as soon as she stated the obvious. "I apologize, Lord King," she said, curtsying quickly, feeling the heat rush to her face.

He didn't say anything, simply stepped past her to stand at the window, his hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the river and into the distance. She noticed, just then, with a measure of surprise, that he was dressed in everyday clothes, shirt and pants, as if he had not gone to bed.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "The window being open, I mean," he clarified. "The view is nice, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," she whispered, stepping hesitantly to look out the window once more.

"I enjoy it," he said. "That's why I have Fulton leave it open, even though he takes my aunt's side in her complaints that I'll catch cold."

She looked at him again. He was standing, unmoving, still looking out the window.

"Do you...come here frequently?"

He turned, studied her for a few moments, then shrugged. "Almost every night, at some time or another."

"You have trouble sleeping?"

He frowned, then nodded, one small inclination of his head.

"Have you slept at all tonight?"

"Why are you so interested in my sleeping patterns? Attempting to find the best time to murder me in my sleep?"

She turned to look at him in surprise, but she was relieved to see that he was fighting a smile. He was merely joking, nothing more.

She relaxed a bit.

"I just noticed that you...well...You're fully dressed." She blushed. Something about the statement, saying it out loud that she had noticed how he was dressed...it just seemed inappropriate considering that he was the king and she one of his servants.

He smiled briefly, and turned back to the window. "Well, I suppose since you already have me completely figured out...No. I have not slept tonight."

She didn't say anything; she didn't know what to say, and so she simply remained silent.

He cleared his throat. "You're having trouble sleeping tonight, then?"

She looked at him, met his gaze, as if wondering about the fact that he had noticed.

"Your nightgown...slippers," he said simply. "Aside from the fact that I've not seen you before. You must not usually find yourself unable to rest."

"You wander the palace frequently then?" She wished she hadn't sounded so incredulous in her asking.

"It is my palace; I have every right. And yes. Every night, usually."

She was silent a few moments, before saying: "You're right. I usually sleep just fine. I just..." She broke off, not knowing what to say. Her problems could not be revealed to him.

Thankfully, he seemed to have no desire to press her into details.

"Too much to think about?" he supplied for her. She nodded.

They stood there, the breeze blowing through the window cool on Meredith's face.

"Well," he said. "I believe I am finally tired enough for sleep." He began to walk away. "Stay at the window for as long as you like," he called softly, over his shoulder.

She watched him disappear into shadow, and then continued to look down the hallway where he had gone, until she heard the distant click of a door closing.

She turned back to the window and sat on the window seat, resting her elbows on the sill and looking down at the river, the water sparkling, reflecting the moon and the stars above.

She wondered about Antony.

He wasn't like any other individual of royalty she had ever seen.