Who: Charlus and Anaïs What: First official meetings Where: the Palace When: Afternoonish Warnings: None?
For all his brother’s protestations that this wasn’t an arrangement, that there was no pressure involved, Charlus couldn’t help but feel like a stud horse being shown to a prospective buyer. His valet had been even more attentive than normal, had picked out his finest day suit and polished his shoes twice. Charlus was almost of a mind to go running out into the garden just to see if he’d get tutted at by his mother the way he had as a boy. The worried pinch to Emrys’ face of late stopped him however. His brother had enough to be worrying about. And now that Emrys was soon to be married to Eleanora, apparently Charlus was no longer safe as a bachelor.
So here he stood. Not entirely alone; there were footmen at the door, a maidservant pouring tea. But for all intents and purposes, this was to be an intimate meeting with just the two of them to see how they got on. Glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece Charlus wandered over to the window to look out over the grounds.
Anaïs wasn’t daft. Although her father, the King of Quebec, hadn’t expressly mentioned marriage before her first trip to Europe, he HAD emphasised the importance of ‘making connections’ now that she had given up her Quidditch career to be a full time Princess. She missed the flying, and the World Cup two years prior would take some beating to be the most treasured memory of her life.
It was with a little apprehension, then, that she approached the doors to be announced, clad in distinctly non-traditional garb. Anaïs winced as the attendant announced her titles - poorly - in heavily accented French before swiftly presenting a calmer face as they were opened, and she was shown in. This was an important moment, and she was not about to ruin it.
Even Charlus winced when the attendant announced the arrival of the Princess. Merlin. Who’d coached him in how to pronounce her titles? He turned from the window with his hands laced loosely at the small of his back, bowing when she entered the room.
“Welcome to England, Princess Anaïs,” he said in rather less stilted French, straightening. He hid his surprise well; she certainly wasn’t dressed the way he’d expected. It suited her, showed off her long legs and the green made her skin and hair almost glow in the sunshine. Well at least finding her pleasing to look at wasn’t going to be difficult. His brother had been paying attention after all. “Would you like to sit down?” He continued in English, gesturing to the couches, the table laid for tea.
Well, hello, she thought to herself, striding towards her host as he straightened from his elegant bow. This was certainly a pleasant surprise. She’d been warned not to expect the men of the Britannic court to look too much like her contemporaries back home, but Anaïs found the neat cut of his suit and the smoothness of his voice to be just as striking as his handsome face. This was going to be very interesting.
“Thank you, Prince Charlus” she replied, her tongue catching slightly on the first syllable of his name - as many non-native speakers did, her accent otherwise sounding not dissimilar to an Anglophone Canadian. “I would be glad to.” She allowed him to escort her to the table, and sat with her legs crossed neatly at the ankles. At least their slight height difference was not quite so noticeable now she was seated - since arriving in Britannia, she hadn’t been able to ignore the fact she was a good half foot taller than most men, let alone the women.
Anaïs was, however, a little stuck for what to say, not being the host in this situation. She settled for looking out of the windows that Charlus had just been gazing through (and therefore looking like less of a country bumpkin gawking at everything), and making a sound of pleasure in the back of her throat at how beautiful they were. She had been here mere days - two at most, if her jetlagged brain was correct - and hadn’t yet had chance to explore.
Charlus sat across from her, admiring her profile as she turned her head to look out the window.
“Are you still tired from your trip?” He asked, inanely. Such pointless questions, but he hardly knew where to begin. He wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to court her, so he couldn’t speak to her the way he would a woman he wished to bed. She was a visiting dignitary but hardly in the same vein as the representatives who’d already started arriving for Emrys’ wedding. He was at something of a loss. He took a sip of tea to distract himself, forgetting it had only just been made. Shit, now he’d burnt his tongue. Well this was going fabulously so far.
Anaïs quickly tried and failed to hide a small smile at Charlus’ mis-step. For a nation somewhat obsessed with the tea drinking ritual, there must be something on his mind in order for him to forget himself so quickly.
“Please don’t injure yourself on my account, Prince Charlus. I will still be here after your tea has cooled a little.” She smiled a little more fully now, her eyes twinkling a little in mischief.
Charlus set his cup down, huffing a soft laugh at being caught out.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, sitting back in his chair a little. “I must admit I’m not entirely sure what to say. I doubt either of us is unaware of the motives of your father and my brother in arranging this little meeting.” He couldn’t complain so far, though. She was beautiful, and that twinkle of mischief in her eyes, the fact that she was willing to tease him - well that was intriguing.
Oh, was that little laugh attractive. Anaïs couldn’t help but smile fondly at its charm, the way his face lit up with the amusement that came from the ability to poke fun at oneself. Not a stuffed shirt then, this Prince. She was intrigued, and at this stage, drawn to him.
Though she replied with a slight roll of her eyes, the soft tone of her words made it clear that she spoke with genuine daughterly affection and without true disrespect. “Ah, my father” she scoffed, idly playing with a simple gold band she wore around the first finger on her right hand - her mother’s wedding ring. “He is a complex man, full of ideas and plans, and yet he claims complete innocence. I am not quite sure that I believe him” she added, mild understatement coming through.
“That said, I have never known him to lack judgment in what he is doing. Though, I have only met your brother once, and not at the most pleasant time. I will defer to you in whether Emrys is a sensible man or not.” Anaïs quirked her eyebrow a little.
“Would you like me to answer as his brother, or as advisor to the King?” He asked, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. Certainly it would be a more diplomatic answer, if she asked for the second. He loved Emrys dearly, but they were brothers. They weren’t in agreement 100% of the time. And for all that he knew Emrys would never arrange a marriage - would never put him in the situation he himself had been placed in by their grandfather - he did feel a certain amount of expectation on this meeting. Judging by the gossip he had overheard here and there, Emrys wasn’t the only one hoping for a suitable match to come out of Anaïs’ visit.
The Princess chuckled, noting the cheekiness in Charlus’ voice, and appreciating it. At least this wasn’t going to be an incredibly awkward first meeting - and at least, it indicated that there may be more such meetings in the future.
“Oh, I think an answer as his sibling would be much more entertaining, don’t you?” she laughed, for the first time allowing a full smile to spread across her face, her laughter a throaty reflection of the drawl of her natural speaking voice. Settling a little, she looked at him with a gentler smile. “Though of course, it would probably not be the most tactful way to proceed, if your relationship is anything like that of Jean-Pierre and I.”
There - discussing family. This was fairly safe territory, wasn’t it?
Well that laugh certainly had his attention. Anaïs wasn’t anything like what he’d expected. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but...not this. She was far more down-to-earth than the other royals he’d met (with the exception, perhaps, of Eleanora).
“Mmm, I wouldn’t want to give you a poor impression of my country,” he teased. “Two brothers so very close in age are rarely entirely in agreement on any subject.” Especially when one of them was Charlus. He could be contrary just for the sake of being contrary.
“I am sorry,” he added, more sober now, “that I couldn’t accompany my brother to Quebec for the funeral. I was in Budapest, smoothing ruffled feathers over-” he waved a hand- “well, it hardly matters.” Smiling more genuinely and more kindly, he tilted his head. “I know how hard it will have been for you.”
“Oh, I am sure that I can hardly form a negative opinion on such a basis” Anaïs grinned, reaching down to tap the side of the tea cup, testing its temperature. She didn’t want to make the mistake Charlus had done - she doubted she could afford any embarrassing faux-pas.
Her head bowed a little for a moment at the mention of her beloved mother, Queen Annabelle. She appreciated the respect shown, and wondered how this acquaintanceship would have developed if they had met in such circumstances. Would they be so comfortable? She was unsure. Anaïs did, however, note the reference to Budapest. She knew that Charlus was older than she, and a man of some responsibility in the kingdom. But to be given important diplomatic duties? Now, that was intriguing. She made a mental note to find out more.
“Thank you” she said simply, her blue-grey eyes meeting his. “Of course, it was not… pleasant. But I fear it affected my brother more deeply than myself. He has gone from losing his mother to his sister being so far away in a short period of time. It will not be easy for him.”
“See? Younger siblings are always of the deepest concern to we firstborn” she murmured, intending to lighten the tone a little.
His eyes were soft, his gaze thoughtful as he watched her bow her head. He still missed his father deeply, but not to the same extent that Anaïs grieved her mother’s passing, it seemed. He almost regretted bringing the subject up, but he had felt rather awkward about meeting her, knowing that he too had been invited to the funeral and had been unable to attend. Emrys’ advisors had assured him it wouldn’t be taken as a snub, but it had been important to both him and Emrys that they show their support for the younger royals when they had been in the same situation themselves.
“Ah, we come into our own quickly enough,” he assured her. “Perhaps it will give him room to grow a little, without a firstborn breathing down his neck?” He was teasing and it would be obvious that he was from the tone in his voice, the playful grin on his face.
“And should you wish, there are international floo call points in the palace itself,” he offered. “You’re welcome to contact your family any time you need to.” One of those points was the fireplace in his chambers, but he was hardly going to mention that at their first meeting.
“Hmph” Anaïs replied, her utterance matching Charlus’ in the teasing level of its tone, even flipping the loose lock of hair that came down from her hat to emphasise the ridiculousness of the point. “Mon dieu, we are a misunderstood breed, we eldest.” She could not resist a wink when the hovering maidservant was not looking.
Nodding more sensibly as the maid returned, she picked up her teacup and took a daintier sip. “I would appreciate that very much. Jean-Pierre was only seventeen in April. I worry about how he will be feeling with only my father around, and with him having his own duties to attend to.”
“Mmm, I imagine it’s a terrible trial, being the eldest,” he grinned, his fingers twitching slightly as she flicked her hair away from her face, tempted to reach out and brush it behind her ear for her. he was cursing Emrys in his head; the bastard had been proved right. He’d said that he thought Anaïs would be a good match, he’d tried to persuade Charlus that he wouldn’t have suggested the match if he didn’t. Charlus had been adamant that he could choose his own wife.
And now he was finding himself utterly charmed by the woman his brother had suggested for him.
“The servants would be only too happy to show you the nearest floocall fireplace to your rooms,” he said, conversation on safer ground now. “And I’m sure Jean-Pierre would be welcome, should he wish to come and visit you during your stay here. I don’t doubt that our European cousins would say the same.”
Anaïs gave a little half-nod of her head in gratitude. “I will ask about that today” she promised, though she was not sure why she was being so earnest. To seem grateful for the information, perhaps? She was starting to get the feeling that this relationship, such as it was, would be best nurtured by seeming thankful for his assistance, ideas and contributions in her relatively inexperienced state. “I’m sure you know how the first couple of days of an international trip can be somewhat too confusing for such details” she added, a nod to his references to his duties.
“I do think he wants to visit the French court, as it happens” she thought carefully, taking another sip of her tea. Their mother had, after all, been a French Princess - a cousin of the current King. “But I can’t imagine him not wanting to visit here, also” she continued. “After all, it is so close. And we grew up with an ambassador who so insistently compared parts of the country to Quebec, so…”
She gave a distinctly Gallic mini-shrug as she set down the cup.
“Oh?” Charlus picked up his own tea, taking a more measured - and far more bearable - sip. “Which parts? Perhaps we can arrange for you to see for yourself.” He doubted it’d be anywhere in the south of England; he knew Quebec was further north than Nova Scotia, and he doubted the country had been named that due to its resemblance to Essex.
“My castle is in the Highlands, perhaps I can convince Emrys we should all take a trip up there.” He would have to do some preparations before then - the castle was rarely used by more than himself and a few close friends. It wasn’t the place for entertaining a foreign delegation, but...he wanted Anaïs to see the country the way he and his brother did. Not the way a tourist would.
Her heart skipped a beat as he spoke. It was a mere gesture of courtesy, probably, but the thought of care being taken for her pleasure and comfort made Anaïs feel warm inside, and certainly warm towards Charlus. The fact that Scotland was the place of which she had been thinking, and that he had an actual castle there of all places… surely he had to stop being so perfect soon?
Another wide smile - albeit more of a shy one this time - graced Anaïs’ face. “That would be…” she paused, trying to think of something that would reflect the thoughtfulness of the suggestion. “That would be extremely kind of you” she replied, unable to put her gratefulness into words at that moment. “It was Scotland he was referring to, actually. I believe he meant it because of the forest areas, the water, and to an extent the climate. Much of Canada as a whole is the same, but Quebec itself is much more rural and unspoiled.”
She stopped before she bored him to death rambling about her country.
“I think you’ll like Scotland then,” Charlus murmured. He leant in a little closer, setting his cup down carefully. “The castle’s on the coast, and it’s uninhabited enough that you can fly for miles on a broom without worrying about anyone seeing. And there’s always disillusionment charms, in any case.” He would have to start planning this before they got wrapped up in the wedding. He wanted everything to be in place before he went to Emrys with the idea, just in case he suggested they all stay somewhere else. He couldn’t say quite why he wanted Anaïs to see his home in particular - but he wanted to impress her.
The feeling of him being so close to her was, in a word, intoxicating. She could just about smell the clean, fresh scent of his clothes and the proximity of his skin was making her begin to feel giddy.
She couldn’t help but sigh as he mentioned the brooms. It had been so long since she had been flying. “That sounds truly wonderful” she murmured, her mind caught up in the romance of it all.
“It’s probably nothing compared to what you’re used to at home,” he pointed out. He knew she’d been a Quidditch pro, so he assumed she still flew regularly. He’d never had that kind of opportunity, but he did love flying around his home. “But if the weather holds - once Emrys and Eleanora are back from their honeymoon, perhaps?” Plus all the attendees who would accompany them, no doubt. It wasn’t as if they could take a spur of the moment trip, tempting as that would be.
“Tch” she exclaimed, waving her hand slightly. “Trust me, I have not been able to fly regularly for quite some time. You have no idea how appealing the thought of getting back on a broom and enjoying the clear air is” she said, an almost sad look flashing across her face for a moment. “I would be delighted to be able to share that with you.” Oh my. She felt a bit forward, having said that.
The discussion of the already planned wedding brought her back to reality for a moment. Yes. Practicality. This she could handle. “I think that sounds like an excellent plan, Prince Charlus.”
“I’ll discuss it with my brother, then,” he promised her. He’d seen photos of her flying; she flew like she was born to be on a broom. He found it a little surprising that she hadn’t been flying as much of late, but it wasn’t something he felt comfortable bringing up in conversation. Not when they barely knew one another.
“I imagine you’ve already had several offers,” he began after a moment’s pause, “but I would consider it a great honour if you would accompany me to Emrys’ wedding.” It may have already been discussed between her entourage and Emrys’ advisors, but that was different. If one wanted a woman’s company for an evening, one should have the courage to ask for it.
She hadn’t, of course, but Charlus didn’t need to know that. And the fact was, she wanted his company, and not that of another man of the court. Where had that desire come from? Who the hell knew, but it was something Anaïs felt very strongly about.
“I would be delighted to, cher” she replied smoothly, the endearment slipping out like water but with no intention of hiding it. Why not be clear that she was a warm and loving person? As for the thought of being held close while they danced… well. That was something she would be willing to fight for.