A proposition

They stumbled into the room looking around them as if they’d never had a roof over their head. One of the men nudged the other, a tall red-haired man with chiseled cheekbones and a scruffy beard. He pointed to a tapestry hanging on the wall and the both of them stared at it amazed. Adelaide figured the men had only ever known the mud and clay hovels they built farther north, none of the men had ever seen a palace before.

Monty had begun tot prepare to throne room, assuming that Queen Adelaide would receive the men there. Instead she had instructed him to bring them to the counsel chamber, a quiet room deeper into the castle where she knew they would not be disturbed. When she had commanded her personal guards to wait outside of the chamber, Monty had attempted to protest. The men were meant to be dangerous! And certainly not great fans of the queen. But Queen Adelaide always got her way, so now she sat at the head of a long table, looking upon her guests.

“Gentlemen, take a seat.” The men looked at her, one of them managed a stiff bow and after some stern looks, the others bowed their heads as well.

“Your grace” the tallest of the bunch spoke. His hair was as dark as coal and his eyes were icy blue. He sat closest to her and rested his large hands on the table. “We understand you had a proposition for us.”

Adelaide had to stifle a small smile, it had been a while since she had been spoken to in a way that betrayed neither nervousness nor care. The men before her gazed upon her openly, studying the contours of her body, pressed against the silk of her red dress.

“War is a nasty business, one were both parties ultimately lose. So yes, gentlemen, I have a proposition for you all that mean us avoiding such a war.”

The tall man scratched his beard, lifting his chin slightly and revealing an old tattoo of an eagle, scratched into his neck. “And what did you have in mind, your grace?”