the earth around your feet | medieval au

[agathe.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]Sharp, golden eyes would fall upon her personal guard, expression softening only slightly as she beheld her friend and confidant standing before her. Lord Atticus had always been different from the other guards, a strong and steady force but one that also cared about her not just because she was queen, but because they were friends. As dedicated to his duty as he was, he still made every event and meeting she attended a little less stuffy and a lot more bearable. It almost made her feel bad for lying to him about her whereabouts that morning (and so many mornings prior to this one). Almost. "Pressing business? No. A council meeting that I'd rather not attend? Yes, just past noon," She responded easily, dismissing her slightly troubled thoughts to faintly smile at him. It was a rare gesture reserved for very few... very few indeed. Her grandmother had not raised her to smile.

It was the cold and accented voice of Sybil that caused Agathe to turn away from Atticus, an intrigued gleam dancing within those golden eyes as she nodded every so slightly in her direction. The oracle had only been here for four weeks and she could already sense her disliking towards her situation. Agathe, admittedly, couldn't blame her. She had been traded like cattle to come and serve under her, the man in charge of negotiations weaving an entirely different tale to the queen so that she might sign the decree adding Sybil to their council. Sometimes, she regretted it. Well, until the other woman let on that Atticus was not nearly keeping as close an eye on her as she should. It was her training that let her turn smoothly back towards him, expression composed of ice (though there was no denying the faint stain of pink upon her pale cheeks about being exposed so casually), "Perhaps there is something you should know."

Already, she could feel that little bit of freedom escaping her, draining away as if it had never been there in the first place. A shame. A damn shame. Agathe could not find it in herself to be angry with Sybil though, not when she had been so carelessly added to a court that she wanted no part of. In a way, the queen knew that she had brought this upon herself, her unrestrained tendencies from her youth bleeding into her life now. "Before I explain, all I ask of you is to remember that I have held my own several times on the battlefield. I don't need a babysitter."