The Middle | Cecil & Charles
It was hard to tell what the Avanians were thinking.
Charles wondered if even they knew where their alignances would fall. He, for one, did not envy their position. Even though he stood firmly with the Waynfletes and would not be swayed in his loyalties, he could see where, from their position, this was a hard decision to make. It was made more complicated by the very presence of those whose lives hung in the balance: it would be far better to think objectively, Charles thought, if you did not have to choose between throwing your support towards one houseguest or the other.
Still, he hated the not knowing. He was prepared for either outcome (and made certain that David would be, too). And even as Charles would such a decision would take time and consideration from the Avanians (he would not trust them if they had been hasty), he couldn’t help but find the entire situation exhausting. (Not to mention incredibly awkward).
Charles exhaled: he was a patient man and he would be patient in this, also.
Cecil Montbatten, the Queen’s advisor, had struck Charles from the first as a reasonable man. He’d been eager to speak to him, privately, regarding the current situation in Catalonia. Who better to hear it from, then a man who held his own position there? He did not think he could sway him completely but, if he stood now firmly in the middle, perhaps he could be made to lean a little more in their direction.
The day was dark and stormy: all of the outdoor festivities had been cancelled which had left them all with unexpected time to themselves. Charles knew well enough that Cecil Montbatten would have no trouble in filling it, but if he wished to request a private moment, he supposed this would be as good of a time as any.
“Lord Montbatten,” He greeted, “Have you a spare moment? I should like to speak with you.” Charles was certain Cecil could have no doubts as what it was he wished to discuss.
