The Kings Personal Joker (boyxboy)

Chapter Eighty Nine

[A/N] I know I need to edit the last chapter so it doesn't seem so strange he's suddenly in the carriage I just need to drive up the motivation to do it... （；￣ 。￣）

"Madam, I understand your curiosity, however I do not know His Majesty well enough to know any personal preferences of his. I could not tell you what he likes or dislikes."

She smiled softly at me, her figure was rather delicate, to some extent she looked a little sickly. Her skin was very light, naturally so, and if she had any darkness under her eyes it was well disguised, imperfections were few, even her eyebrows seemed soft and light in colour. Her lips were red with carmine dye, they caused her face to glow.

"If you are diligent in searching through your memories there must be something you can remember. You are his favourite entertainer, after all."

That struck me. I couldn't help but make eye contact for a moment. "I am?"

She was distracted and barely noticed, turning to pull out something silver and bejewelled that was tucked away in the folds of her clothes.

"What sort of tea does he like? Does he have any nightly routines? A favourite poem? A want for nightly mantras being read to him? Does he dislike any flowers or desire any scenes?"

She smiled brightly at me. "I am an avid painter, you know, I could manage any scene onto a soft piece of silk." Then she tapped at the red inside the tin and started smudging it on her lips, adding more colour to them.

He did once ask me what my favourite tree was... I had told him the wisteria tree, and he in return had said the yew tree...

"I do know-" We both spoke at once. "If you don't-"

She started to look irritated. "Are you so unobservant you cannot remember one detail for me?"

My mouth grew into a thin line. Perhaps she was more like Demosthenes than I originally thought.

"Stupid, blind or mute? Which one are you?"

My hackles rose, unprepared to be insulted by such a petite lady with such a soft gaze, even if the words were not, alone, particularly insulting.

"None, madam." I placed my hands on my knees and gripped them tightly. "I simply worry His Majesty will be angry if I mention anything without his permission."

"I won't mention anything to your master." She reassured me. "Only, if he likes jasmine tea, I can prepare him some, if he likes the poetry of the Broken Solitudes, I will recite them to him, or if he is fond of almond cakes I can design a few for him."

"It is an honourable quest." I said quietly.

And it was, she was right to seek out his likes and dislikes, she would make a wonderful companion and surely an even more suitable wife.

I could so easily picture them sitting side by side as they did once before, only they would be holding hands, hers would have the mark of a married woman in red, and his the same on the inside of his palms.

It was strange how odd it seemed to me that there was and would me so many more persons capable of knowing the man who held me down against his bed at night, better than myself.

The thought made me a little sick.

"So speak." She said sharply, probably unaware how her words sometimes were perceived, and also not a person likely to ever see any man's pique for them either.