Noel (ON HOLD)

Chapter 5: Bastard Tonuge

~Zacharias~

There was plenty of hustle and bustle in the ballroom tonight. This meeting has caught the attention of the majority of England, the incident caused quite controversy. However, Catherine has treated this urgent council meeting as if it was her personal princess ball. Among the nobles spread out around the large elaborate ballroom, there is food, music, and dancing. Decorations hung on every wall, and the aroma of food and lady perfume is in the air. It makes me sick. The air is stiff, the sights bear too much color, the ladies are too loud, and the men are drunk. This is a political and religious matter, why does it look like a damn party?

My back lays against the wall watching the scene play out before my eyes. Concealed in shadows I watched as fools danced their night away, and in the corner I saw Catherine. Catherine, and wrapped around her waist, were the arms of a man. I knew him, he was Lord of the Swavett manor further north. He is here in the Manor of the Griffin, but not by my invitation. He was certainly occupied, chatting the bitch up. Catherine led him by the hand into the nearest empty room and made sure to lock the door behind her.

"Let her have her fun brother," my gaze shifted to where my younger half-brother, Francis, stood by my side. "It won't be long until you both are wed, speaking of which, shouldn't you be having a bit of fun as well?"

"That's bastard tongue Francis."

"Well I am bastard born aren't I?"

"Yes, bastard born, not bastard raised. I taught you better, father taught you better."

"Oh whatever, I'm just saying if the bride insists on being a whore then finding satisfaction elsewhere is acceptable. You can even call it just." I despise the way Francis thinks sometimes. Father, and his bitch mother made him that way. They filled his head with tyrannical thoughts and let him grow a selfish heart. But he is wise, changing slowly, he at least knows the meaning of just. However he must now learn what the difference between what is just and what is right.

Francis and I were always close despite the fact that we have different mothers. My mother was true nobility: Lady Marie-Jeanette of France. Her father felt no need to remain in France and longed for his beautiful daughter to marry into authority. Therefore, Lady Marie-Jeanette found my father, Lord Maximus of Griffin manor. They wed, I was born, but it was strictly politics. My father found love elsewhere, or at the very least, he found pleasure. Lady Guinevere, a common serf. Lord Maximus made her his mistress, and together they had Francis. As Francis's older brother, I took it upon myself to teach him everything I knew, from swordsmanship to courting the female masses. I love my dear Francis, and I'm sure he loves me. But one thing is for sure, his mother despises me for taking the Lordship. And I knew that negative energy and hatred would be passed on to my dear brother. So, I tried my best to teach him what is right.

"I couldn't help but overhear the ladies' daily gossip hour, and I heard something interesting. Is it true that a serf bitch spoke out of turn? Catherine had quite the opinion about it, she claims that you were too soft. She says that if she was in your boots she would have her killed on sight." He whispered. "'First this heist and now this! These damn serfs are getting too bold if you ask me,' I'd wish she'd see that in truth, nobody asked her." Francis mocked her, raising his pitch and making feminine gestures with his hands and hips. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"The only bitch I've ever encountered was Catherine." Her and your mother of course, "Besides, the girl merely spoke the truth."

"The truth you say? I heard she spoke ill of you. She said that you 'let your knights run wild'. That can't be true, I see the way they respect you."

"Their respect for me isn't the issue. It's their respect for my people. Perhaps I should change the code of chivalry?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps you're simply too lenient with them, brother. Be more severe, be sterner. Do not let punishment slip by." Francis led me by my hand and we walked down an empty hall. Behind us was chatter and laughter behind us, and the farther we walk, the louder out footsteps grew.