"I will be a mercifull king."Monchevy | 1x01

Philippe|Chevalier in 1x01

The Duc D'Orleans came storming into his rooms, eyes roaming through the space – making him slow down his steps. His gaze landed on a few servants, packing all sorts of materials in large opened trunks. His eyes then landed on a back. Seeing long, golden locks which smoothly laid down the velvet material of the navy-blue vest, he instantly knew who had awaited him. Chevalie De Lorraine, his best friend – his lover. The person he knew all to well. And so did he.

Without turning around, sensing the Prince's presence, Chevalier spoke out, "I thought I might've lost you forever," Philippe looked at the maids who bowed before him, while Chevalier was eating off his plate. "I was worried about you." His lover softly spoke, making Philippe turn his attention to Chevalier, scoffing silently. "No, you weren't." The king's brother wasn't in the mood – he had just found his sibling off in the woods, standing off a cliff when a couple of wolves came by, almost attacking him. Philippe always felt like he needed to look after the Sun King, but he never got anything back in return. Snapping back to reality, he looked over at the people who constantly move his belongings, "What are you doing?"

"Packing!" The Chevalier finally snapped his head towards Philippe, "You're not seriously considering staying here another second, are you?" The two just stared at eachother for a few brief seconds, before Lorraine started speaking again. "They just tried to kill the King, and to get to him – who's next?" His index finger pointed in the direction of the Prince, his lips quickly curling to a smirk. "Actually, now there's an idea." He turned back and continued to eat off his plate, leaving Philippe lost in thoughts.

"You would have me die?" Philippe couldn't hold back but ask, staring at his lover, millions of questions running through his mind. Chevalier's smile was plastered on his face, as he rolled his eyes, landing them on Philippe again. "You are so slow sometimes." He turned, putting the plate down, then leaning on the edge of the table. "The Prince. Little Louis. He's always seemed a bit, sickly. Don't you think?" A smirk crept up the corner of his mouth again, covering it with a grape that he just put in his mouth.

But Philippe knew this side of the Chevalier, snarky, comedic, often at times, disconcerting – but most of the time he meant well. "Stop it," Philippe smiled, but not enough for Chevalier to see. For that, he walked towards his bedroom,"My point exactly!" Chevalier yelled out, pushing himself off the table and following along,"Hardly anyone sees him, he's hold up in Paris, and everybody is constantly terrified he's gonna catch a chill!" He walked through the large doors into the bedroom, seeing Philippe taking off his boots while sitting on the large, king-sized bed. "How many children at court make it to the age of five, much less their majority?"

Philippe stood up and walked over to the other side of the table that had a bowl full of fruits, and a large vase of red wine, followed by a few glasses. Chevalier picked at the grapes, capturing one between his fingers,"What chance does this latest one have of making it out of the royal merkin? Let alone, walking to his own coronation?" Philippe and the Chevalier slowly paced around the table, both on opposites side. Monsieur's gaze was strongly on his lover, while he took off his rings, gently placing them down on the smooth canvas of the table. "There's a reason why your brother is always desperate for another boy." Chevalier placed his hand on the edge of the table, near the glass of wine which Philippe swiftly grabbed and placed the rim of the glass against his lips, taking small sips from the liquid.

"That's why everyone around here appears to be willing another male child into existence," He kept walking around until he was two steps away from Philippe, only a chair separating them. "Don't you see? When it all falls down," Chevalier slowly leans over the chair, his breathe scanning over Philippe's face, "It all comes to you." He raises his hand up, sliding a grape through Philippe's lips, quickly cupping his cheek, forcing his head forward so he catches his lips with his.