King's Visit

The next morning dawned with an unexpected chill that swept through the halls of Westerleigh, much like the undercurrent of uncertainty that had taken hold of Lady Elara's thoughts since the postponement of King Aldric's visit. The grand estate, usually abuzz with the sounds of daily preparations, seemed subdued, as if it too sensed the gravity of the impending nuptials.

King Aldric, renowned for his cold and stoic demeanor, was a figure who commanded respect through his mere presence. The anticipation was palpable as the distant sound of carriage wheels announced his arrival. Everyone assembled in a perfect line, their nervousness hidden behind a veil of ceremonial calm.

The royal carriage, an imposing structure of dark wood and gleaming metal, pulled up to the front of the grand manor. The footmen hurried to position themselves as the door opened and King Aldric stepped out. He was the epitome of regal austerity, his face set in an expression that rarely betrayed his thoughts.

"Lady Elara," King Aldric greeted, his voice devoid of warmth yet perfectly polite. "I appreciate your hospitality."

"Your Majesty, it is our honor to welcome you," Elara responded, maintaining the composure required in the presence of such a formidable monarch.

As they proceeded to tour the estate, King Aldric made an effort to engage in small talk, a task that seemed to neither suit him nor interest him deeply, yet he performed it with a disciplined sense of duty. "I see your gardens are thriving," he commented, looking over the blooms with an unreadable expression.

"Indeed, Your Majesty. We've had favorable weather this season," Elara replied, trying to match his level of detached conversation.

"And the new stables?" he inquired, shifting the topic as they walked past the newly constructed building.

"They are nearly complete. We hope they will be ready for the upcoming hunt season," Elara informed him, aware that each exchange was more about formality than genuine interest.

During the dinner, King Aldric continued his small talk with the other guests, his questions and comments flowing in a stream of careful neutrality. He discussed the recent developments in trade and the arts, showing an expected level of knowledge and an almost imperceptible curiosity.

"It seems the eastern provinces are thriving," he stated over dinner, addressing no one in particular. "A good omen for the coming fiscal terms."

"Yes, Your Majesty. The prosperity of the realm reflects well on your leadership," a nearby nobleman complimented, seizing the opportunity to curry favor.

The king nodded slightly, acknowledging the comment with a brief, "Thank you," before turning his attention back to his plate, his brief forays into conversation closing as quickly as they opened.

As dessert was served - a delicate apple tart with cinnamon cream - King Aldric’s sparse dialogue left a palpable silence around the table, punctuated only by the clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of the other guests. Elara sensed the growing curiosity and mild discomfort among the attendees, each stealing glances at their stoic king, hoping he might reveal more of himself.

Attempting to bridge the gap, Elara gently steered the conversation towards the upcoming festivals, a topic she hoped would entice the king into a more animated discussion. "Your Majesty, the Spring Festival is approaching. The village is buzzing with preparations. It’s a celebration of renewal and community spirit. Perhaps, this year, the royal court might grace us with its presence?"

King Aldric considered her words, his demeanor unchanging yet attentive. "Indeed, the festivals bring much joy to the people and bind the community," he replied, his voice calm and even. "It is important for the crown to support such traditions."

Elara nodded, encouraged by his acknowledgment. She continued, "The villagers would be honored by your visit, and it would certainly lift their spirits to see their king among them."

"The possibility remains under consideration," King Aldric said, his words carefully chosen, hinting at potential interest without commitment. His brief contributions to the conversation were concise, yet they offered a glimpse into his methodical approach to kingship—a blend of detachment and duty.

As the main course was served, Lord Thomas, the host of the evening, rose from his seat, his presence commanding the attention of the gathered guests. With a subtle clearing of his throat, he signaled for silence, and the room fell into hushed anticipation.

"My esteemed guests, it is with great pleasure that I share a momentous announcement," Lord Thomas began, his voice carrying a dignified resonance that echoed through the room. "In light of the recent negotiations between our families and the crown, I am delighted to confirm that a union has been agreed upon."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room, mingled with whispers of speculation and curiosity. Elara felt a knot tighten in her stomach, knowing what Lord Thomas was about to reveal.

"It is my honor to announce the betrothal of Lady Elara, my beloved daughter, to his Majesty, King Aldric," Lord Thomas declared, his words punctuated by a swell of surprise and subdued applause.

Elara felt a mixture of emotions wash over her—pride at the alliance forged for the betterment of their lands, apprehension at the weight of her new responsibilities, and a flicker of defiance at the prospect of her future being decided without her consent.

King Aldric remained composed, his expression giving nothing away as he received the congratulations and well-wishes of the assembled guests. He raised his glass in a silent toast, his gaze briefly meeting Elara's before turning back to the festivities, the weight of their impending union hanging heavy in the air.

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