It had been a miserable morning that had steadily progressed into a wretched evening. Tate was already sporting a blooming bruise on his cheek where he had been violently struck down. He had since pressed himself in a far corner of the room and was desperately trying to remain unnoticed. He had hoped the princling would drink himself into unconsciousness, but the young man seemed to only grow angrier instead of tired.
When the Lady Phatilia made an impromptu visit everyone in the prince's chambers fell deathly silent. The timing could not have been worse and Tate was not the only one cringing away from the prince's fiancé.
Christian took one look at the young woman and openly sneered. "How fortunate!" He boomed, his voice slurred and dripping with disdain. "My darling wife to be has graced us with her presence." He stood up and performed a sloppy bow. His eyes travelled up and down the length of her petite frame, taking in the skin-tight sapphire gown and towering snowy hair. "You look beautiful tonight Phatilia." He said, the tone turning the words into an insult.
She really did look startlingly beautiful and Tate felt a bizarre pang of sorrow when he saw the hurt and confusion cross her delicate features. "You're majesty had been absent from the court of late." She said smoothly, the pain skilfully hidden in her voice. "I had missed your presence." She took a short step forward but seemed to visibly stop herself from going to him. Her confusion bloomed. "Are you well Christian?"
"I'm perfect Phatilia." Christian said nastily, taking an unsteady step and spilling his wine as he made a sweeping gesture towards Tate. "Just look what I have to amuse me in my rooms. With such a beauty why would I leave to spend time in the hall with you?" He crossed the distance to Tate and grabbed the smaller man around the waste. The halfling had a moment to think Christian couldn't possibly be doing something so incredibly foolish before he was being bent almost in half.
Tate struggled, he couldn't help himself. Christian had never even kissed him before his servants and now the damned fool was exhibiting himself before his betrothed. A tongue forced its way down his throat and the half-blood began to struggle in earnest. He heard a horrified cry and then he was released so suddenly that he fell hard to the ground. He had a moment to see the look of humiliation on Phatilia's face before the devastated woman fled from the room. Christian watched her go, the glee on his face slowly giving way to realisation of what he had just done before his staff and future wife. Items starting sailing through the air and Tate scuttled away from him on his back. At first the prince threw them at random but after a moment he began flinging his possessions directly at his startled staff. The poor fools were too well trained to run away. Tate watched in horror as a young page was struck in the temple by a glass vase. It shattered on impact and the boy crumpled without a sound.
Silence reigned for a few breaths before Christian started screaming. "Out!" he cried, giving the unmoving boy a solid kick to the leg. "All of you get out!"
A few brave servants picked the lad up and dragged him out. A pool of blood followed and Tate was reminded of the soldier the prince had once killed for kicking him. There had been no enquiry into the soldier's death and as far as the halfling was aware he had never been mentioned again. He wondered if the same fate would befall the page boy.
Tate had wedged himself back into his corner during the princes fit. He crossed his arms and dropped his eyes and prayed that Christian would leave him alone. Though he dearly wished to depart with everyone else he knew the prince would not permit him to go. There were a few moment of heaved breath and then a hand slapped hard against the wall beside Tate's head. From below his lashes the halfling watched the prince's heaving chest rise and fall.
"They all think they can judge me." He snarled, reaching out his free hand to fondle Tate's hair. "I can see the look in their eyes. They don't think I'm worthy of being their king. I hear their gossiping, they think I don't but hear them but I always do." His gentle caress became painfully tight "They'll regret their words soon enough. Soon they won't have any other choice but to accept me. Soon I'll be all they have."
"You'll make a good king Christian." Tate said, feeling sickened by his own simpering compliance. The hand in his hair loosened slightly. "Everyone worships you."
"They think me mad." Christian mumbled, leaning into Tate and forcing his leg between the Halfling's clenched thighs. "You do too."
"I live to serve you." He whispered as he coiled in on himself. He was about to be hurt, he was very sure of it, the only question was just how badly. He could see a dagger on the prince's belt and almost grabbed it in desperation when he heard a knock at the prince's inner doors.
Christian pushed himself away from Tate and impatiently pulled open the door, clearly expecting some foolish guard or servant. Richard stood there, perhaps the only man that Christian would not rage against. The prince visibly calmed at the site of him and ushered the captain inside. "Is it done?" He asked immediately, with some nervousness.
Richard didn't answer immediately. His eyes fixed on Tate and the suspicion there was obvious. "My prince-"
"I know of your mistrust of my squire Richard." Christian interrupted viciously. "You have spoken of it often enough that you should be equally aware how I tire of hearing it. Tate is mine and he will not speak out of term." When Christian turned to look at him the halfling instantly dropped his eyes. He felt the other mans gaze on his for a long moment. "Now tell me captain, is it done?"
"I have acquired a vile of foxbane my prince. The apothecary assured me that the content is tasteless and odourless and will be impossible to detect in food or drink." His eyes flickered momentarily over the half-blood before his face became blank of emotion "As you commanded my liege, the apothecary has been disposed of."
Christian closed his eyes tightly for a moment before mouthing a single, undetectable work. "So be it." He eventually whispered aloud. He seemed to take stock of his ruined room then and looked surprised to find his belonging strewn around the floor. He looked at Tate and his expression softened. "Tate, fetch servants to clean this mess. We'll eat in the main hall today." He turned to Richard and clasped the older man on the shoulder. "You have done well my friend. You'll be well rewarded for your service to me."
"Thank you my prince." Richard said, bowing his head deeply. As he rose back up a huge grin spread across his poisonous face. "Or should I say, my king?"
Tate hadn't meant to, he had no idea what possessed him to react at all, but at the sound of Richards words he gagged. The prince and Richard looked up sharply at the sound of the noise and Tate flinched back in horror.
"Have you something to say Tate?" Richard asked, his expression sly as his eyes latched onto the half-blood.
"No," Tate said quickly. "Nothing."
"The thought of me as your king makes you sick?" Christian asked, his tone absurdly hurt.
