So, she wouldnât come to his bed quite so easily, would she? Had they been back home, such an invitation to sneak off alone with him would have been all that a young woman needed to fall at his feet. Truth be told, there was something a little refreshing in her slight resistance.
His upper lip twitched into a hint of a smirk; watching her as a lion might watch itâs prey.
âNo. And certainly not one such as this,â He replied. It was a cool evening, but warm for the quite warm for the season. After battling several brutally cold and wet days, the dry warmer air was a welcome change. He continued to watch her; never directing his gaze elsewhere even as he took out a match and lit himself a cigar; inhaling both tobacco and the sweet scent of her.
âI donât mind,â He said, âIt gives the people something to talk of,â He said, in a rather generous tone, gesturing broadly with his hand, as though the populace did nothing but wait with baited breath for news (any news!) of their King. âAnd as soon as a more unpleasant rumor becomes believed as fact ⊠well, there are several ways to silence it. Back home, when you are in my company, my dear, you need never fear for your reputation.â
But the rules were different here. And he did need to be careful. Perhaps more careful that he had planned on being this evening. Once he secured the crown, everything before him and more could be his with the snap of his fingers. Until then, he must remember to exert some patience. Still, he was confident that he would be able to manage a tryst or two with Margaret Greene before he claimed the throne.
A hunter, then, thought Meg, allowing herself the smallest of coquettish smiles. She must encourage while still holding him at armâs length. It was a delicate balance but Meg knew the steps to the dance all too well. Of course, every dance was a little different, tailored to her new partner, and there was still much to learn. She had also never tried for a King, before, but Meg was fond of challenges. It was, aside from his horrid reputation (she liked to choose bad people - it almost gave her the sense that she was doing the right thing...almost), the reason she had chosen him instead of any of the other wealthy men here. Â
The music of dancing drifted out onto the veranda from the open doors; the moonlight reflected in silver pools all around them; even the scent of his cigar was pleasing to her. If Meg had been a different person, perhaps she might have been charmed by these things, instead she considered how the setting was ideally suited to her particular gambit and smiled softly at her good fortune. She wondered if he preferred her to seem to fall in love, or if he preferred a cleaner affair: no emotions (even one-sided) involved. She could work with either, of course, though the latter was her own particular preference.
âHow do you find Valeria, so far, Your Majesty?â she inquired.  âI confess, it is refreshing to meet someone else who is not a native. Otherwise, I might feel almost an outcast, were it not for my dear cousins who have so kindly taken me in.â In truth, the Seymours have merely proven an easy mark, but they were kind enough people and she bore them no ill will.
Oh, sheâd chosen well, Meg thought with a spark of excitement. Fewer than half a dozen sentences in, and already heâd proven himself one of the most arrogant people Meg had already met...which was something of an accomplishment, given that her father had been a serial killer who did it for the feeling of power and superiority. Yes, she would enjoy pulling the wool over his eyes. Her father had taught her to hate men like this.
Meg turned her back to the railing to look more carefully at Alexander and turned her face towards him in her best look of faux-sympathy.  âHow lonely,â she said, as though affected with his tragic circumstances.  âIt must be to wear a crown. How you must ache for companionship, with everyone always watching you.â Meg took a step forward, seemed to remember herself, and stopped.  âYour people must be grateful to have so generous a ruler as you so clearly are.â Meg smiled privately, thinking what a ridiculous notion he carried in his head that simply because he did not hear a thing, no one thought it.  âThat is, indeed, a heartening thing to hear, Your Majesty. Am I to glean, then, that I might be welcome in your country?â
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