Paris, 1083
Philippe had summoned his daughter to his study and that was rare enough to have Constance wonder and worry a little. But as she entered the room, all worry disappeared as she looked to her father seated in a large chair by the fire. Turning to her, his face radiated a warm glow that she had not seen on his face for many years, the last time being after the birth of Charles.
"Connie, mon petit ecureuil, come nearer..."
He slapped his knee and Constance moved to sit on her father's knee like she did when she was a little girl.
"I have a mission for you"
For all his earnestness, Constance couldn't help but see the mischief behind her father's smile.
"What kind of mission, father ?"
"A marriage..."
At the mention of the word, Constance visibly paled.
"You can't... I'm not... who..?" she mumbled, her mouth suddenly dry, oblivious to the fact that her father's smile had grown still wider, the mischief in it burning that much brightly.
"You refuse?"
Constance appeared downcast, but resigned "No, there is no possibility of refusal. What of the task you already gave me? I'm to go to Rome and see Sa Sainteté..."
"Justly, while you're headed there, the marriage will be negotiated... by you."
"By me? You want me to negotiate my own marriage ?"
At that last reply from his daughter, Philippe couldn't contain himself any longer and let out a loud laugh.
"Your marriage? You thought that was what I had in mind?"
A look of bewilderment crossed Constance's features, but she managed to nod nonetheless.
"If not mine, then whose marriage shall I arrange father?"
Asking that question out loud made Constance realize whose marriage it had to be... Louis...
She grinned with glee as she imagined her brother's plight, wishing he hated the idea of wedlock at least as much as herself. She would see that for herself soon enough and expected him to be more than a little annoyed that she would arrange it.
"I'm expecting your brother any moment... In fact, he should be here already. He must have crossed the path of a serving girl..."
Louis knew he was late, knew he was making his father wait, and yet... the wench had given him such a look! How could a man refuse and still call himself a man? What could possibly be so important about this little meeting anyway?
As he finished doing up his breeches the Prince's eyes wandered over to the plump girl who was still reclining on the rug, breathing heavily. Using the toe of his boot to prod her thigh Louis said,
"They'll be wanting you in the kitchens soon lass. Get moving now."
He was already striding off before her muttered, 'Yes m'Lord' reached his ears. Wonder if Father's picked a chap to inflict Constance on. Perhaps that's why I've been called, to get my input on the current crop of nobles... Yes, I'm sure of it!
Who would be the best match though? The matter bore more thought than he had time for, as here was the chamber door. Entering Louis announced himself with a deep bow and a respectful tone,
"Mon Pere, Mon Roi, it is good to see you!"
...continuing with a wry note and a sideways grin,
"...and you Constance."
"Louis, my dear brother..." Constance greeted him with a smirk. "Father has some wonderful news." She turned to the King expectantly, but kept Louis in her field of vision; she didn't want to miss her brother's reaction to what was coming.
"My son, your campaigns will certainly take you south from Toulouse over the Pyrenees. This couldn't be more to my will... As it happens, I've just received word from Rey Alfonso de Castille that his daughter Teresa was looking for a royal husband and he thought you would be a fine match (though I don't know where he may have got such an idea, the King murmured in Constance's ear)... And I think we should accept his offer... If only to keep you birthing too many bâtards while you'll be campaigning. From what I heard, Teresa is a very comely lass... which should keep you at home rather than running the smallest bit of lace that crosses your path..."
The Prince freezes in position, with a gently mocking smile still directed at Constance. For a few moments the run of his thoughts can almost be heard ringing in the air.
...ye gods its me not her... what will i do with emily, and vanessa, and sara, jesus sweet sara with her hips like swan and her mouth like... and poor matilda's whores will go broke... the lads will poke such fun... a wedding in the middle of my siege too, bloody wench is already interrupting me... wait, did he say she was comely?
In a stiff voice, but full of propriety, Louis replied,
"My King I am honored to have been chosen for such a great purpose, to advance France's place in the world and my own plans in Iberia! May your will be done as God intends."
There is a pause as Louis swallowed several times, and looked about as though expecting a pitcher of wine to appear out of thin air before he continued,
"Err, if I may inquire, when can I meet her?"
"A meeting has already been arranged while you'll be travelling south to Zaragosa... She'll meet you on the Tourmalet mountain pass and go down the Pyrenees with you to your camp near Zaragosa."
"Travelling... with me? To, uhm, the camp?"
Louis' gaze had taken on something of a frantic quality. His eyes shifted about as he continued,
"Excellent Father! What better way to get to know me than on the road to a campaign, where I am happiest! I wager I'll have her marching and lugging a shield by the end of it."
After a hearty, fake laugh the Prince's eyes narrowed and he abruptly turned to his sister,
"Did you say something dear Constance or was that the snort of a horse outside?"
She gave him a contemptuous look.
"I believe it came from a pig... Do not worry brother, I will tell your betrothed what to expect. She will be ready for you."
"Stop fighting, you two... It has ended being funny when you were about twelve... Anyway, Constance, I expect to brief the bride about what to expect in her husband, though not too much, for fear she runs to a Mahomeddan instead, and teach her a bit of French... If her teachings were left to your brother, I think all the French she would acquire would be pillow-talk... Louis, I will ask you to clear your camp of your "maîtresses" for a while... We do not want to ruin this opportunity by your inability to keep "it" into your breeches, n'est-ce pas ?"
Constance performed a contrite bow. "As you will, father."
Louis matched Constance's bow to perfection, "Indeed, as you wish mon Pere."
"That's better... I let you fool me with your mock respect just this once... Now, I have other matters of state to attend to... I'll leave you to to discuss the practicalities of setting up the marriage and getting acquainted with the bride. Try to behave, just this once..."
With a quick peck on the cheek for his daughter and a friendly pat on the shoulder for his son, Philippe strides out of the room, beleaguered by the ministers awaiting him with proposals and accounts.
Both the prince and the princess glare at each other for a moment before leaving the room in opposite directions.
Re: Stories Thread
Originally Posted by Sasaki Kojiro
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