When the dance ended, Edward led Marie from the dance floor and over to the side, where some of her ladies in waiting were standing and talking with each other, heavy skirts swishing with each movement. He gave the group a faint smile. "I give my wife into your capable hands." he said, giving Marie a soft, slightly teasing look. "Mademoiselle."
She rolled her eyes. "My thanks, husband." she laughed a little bit. "Now go do your talking. I am sure everyone here is dying to speak with you."
He smiled, inclining his head to her. "As always, I must bow to your superior wisdom." their words were half for the ladies watching, and half just for each other. They got along so well, despite the fact that he knew she must know that he did not care for her in the way a husband should care for his wife. But he got along with her nontheless, and for that fact he was forever grateful. He turned away and began to mingle with the crowd, greeting nobles and dignitaries, conversing easily with them.
Letting go of his partner, he gave a bow while she stood back and curtsied. They both stood up at the same time with soft gleams on their faces. Sabbas had to stop for a moment as strands of hair fell in front of his eyes.
The noble lady walked up, then brushed them off to the sides. Her chin turned to the right, watching as there was a group surrounding the king and queen. The two could hear light laughter. She stepped back, "Well, you seem to be the kind of man who knows how to ease his worries."
Sabbas let his gaze wander over to the group for a moment. He sighed to himself before smirking. "And what if, I do not, mi amada?" With his hands behind his back, he took a step closer.
She matched his expression, but took a deep breath of her own. "Hmmm….I suppose I will see you after this ball is over then, good Sir." After saying the last word, she gave a wink then walked over to some ladies.
He laughed to himself, watching as some of them curiously looked over at him. Not even a second later, his attention focused on the king, who was going around and talking to other people. Sabbas took a few steps closer, but still remained far away. He is a Spaniard after all, even if he is the ambassador to the Spanish Empire. It will take awhile for him to speak with King Edward, although he does not want to waste himself by stepping forward. His opportunity will present itself any moment now; he can feel it in his heart.
Edward was kind and courteous to those he interacted with, his demeanor calm and pleasant. It would do no one good to be the kind of king that stormed and raged and paced violently back and forht. Instead, he would solve any issues that arose as calmly as possible. Perhaps if he was a good king, God would take away these attractions he still felt, these attractions that God hated and that he knew were sinful and wrong, no matter what his heart said. Did not the bible say that the longings of the heart were evil?
He wanted to be a good king. And he would be. He would make sure of it. So he smiled and laughed and spoke with the various nobles and courtiers that were attending the ball, hands either loose by his sides, or gesturing, or held lightly behind his back. Crossing his arms would not be a good look, so he did not do so, even if sometimes he wanted to.
Time felt as if it was dragging its feet along the floor as he waited. Pressure arose in his chest causing him to take long deep exhales. The words of his uncle flooded his mind while he took a few steps closer. His Majesty was not that far from him now. In a matter of moments, he will be finding himself bowing to the English monarch.
Keep your enemies close to you… The words swirled around his head. Sabbas clasped his hands, as if he were praying, and briefly looked up at the ceiling. Rarely does he ever ask for God's help in a time like this, but when has he ever gone through a situation such as this? This is not no ordinary man or noble. It is King Edward, the king of the British Empire. The monarch he is to work with, to keep relations between the empires warm and well. Oh great heavens help him.
Once he finished whispering to himself a simple Our Father, he kept his hands behind his back. His face remained warm yet nonchalant. The music was drowned out by the sounds of the beating drum in his chest. Sabbas could not even register the sounds of talking and laughter. He kept his gaze on those dancing while he thought of all the things he planned to say. All the things he has been waiting for since the moment he stepped foot on the ship set for London.
Edward finally reached the Spanish consular, and his steady, blue-eyed gaze met Sabbas' calmly. Edward rather wished he had had the chance to speak with the Spaniard before now, but the opportunity simply had not arisen. Most of his days were very busy, and he so often found himself using free time to visit the chapel and pray. There was a reason he had a reputation as a very pious, godly king. He prayed so often, and was in the church so often, that people couldn't help but notice. In a more derogatory manner, some called him the friar or monk king, saying that he may as well have been celibate. That he should not have been king if he would not bed his wife in the manner required of kings. But even then, he was pious, and that garnered him at least a modicum of respect from the god-fearing. The church officials loved his piousness; it garnered them more money from the crown.
Sabbas had heard many things about King Edward, and yet, he pushed most of them to the back of his mind. Despite hearing good about the monarch, he was told about the piety and the oddity of not bedding the queen ever since marriage. Based on his own personal manners, it was strange, although, he ignored it simply because he believed that it was not of his matter to keep it in attention. Rumors are rumors after all, and naturally, every court has its own.
The moment His Majesty had approached him, his eyes gazed back at those blue eyes. Even in Madrid, he had never seen such pupils before. Nevertheless, he could not let his eyes linger on the king for long. He was taught that it is foolish to be in the presence of others, especially those higher than yourself, while acting as idle as water by the oceanside. Never be idle in front of a king, always try to be just below their grandeur. Be present.
"It is an honor to be in your elegant presence, Your Majesty," He said, slowly. His accent was mildly thick, making him carefully waltz through each word. The corners of his lips turned up into a professional grin. Gracefully, he lightly pressed his right arm in front of him as he fully bowed in front of the king. "My name is Sabbas Desiderio Valiente Medina, though you may call me Sir Valiente, your consul to the Spanish Empire. I am elated to finally meet you, Your Majesty."
Edward studied him closely for a long moment, nodding slightly. "I am pleased to be able to make your acquaintance, sir Valiente." he offered no explanation for the delay; kings did not need to explain themselves, and this was no exception. Explanations would make him seem weak, and as if he was making excuses, neither of which was an impression that he sought to give. "I trust that your stay has so far been pleasant?" he knew that the consul had not been here for a very long time yet, but he wanted to ensure that the rooms the man had been given were satisfactory. If they were not, that could be mended. "If it has not, please make my steward aware of it, and it shall be amended."
The grin on his face grew a bit solemn. Nevertheless, his eyes were lit with excitement and interest. "My stay has been much more than pleasant. I already feel as if I am at home." It is true; necessarily, he would not dare to lie to the king. For it has been seven days since he had first arrived. His chamber and rooms were more than suitable for him; a home away from home. There is even a rose bush outside the window in his bed chamber. The servants did their jobs wonderfully, although they were often confused when he accidentally would switch from English to Spanish.
Sabbas shook his head. "No need to, although I thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace is immeasurable." Holding his hands in front of him, he stole a longer glance at King Edward. "I know it may not be appropriate to bring business and political matters to a ballroom, but, I am looking forward to working for you. Your Majesty, I am the best man in this field and I will do my best to serve you and King Francisco. Please do let me know if you need anything, my king; I shall respond faster than the lightening."
Edward nodded slightly. "Of course. I am glad to hear that. And I look forward to working with you as well; I have no wish for war between our countries." he really did not. He had enough difficulties with the Irish and the Welsh, adding in foreign troubles would only further complicate the matter, though the whole business with the colonies was…well, it was delicate. Though this ball was neither the time, nor the place, to bring any of this up.
"I can assure you that witnessing our two great empires going to war is something I would rather not wish to see," Sabbas assured. "After all, it is my duty to bring and implicate peace to Great Britain and Spain. This shall not be a problem, I pray. I wish to allieviate stress, not to mention, stress off of the shoulders of you, King Francisco and the rest of the European continent." Spain could not afford having another war. After the last ones they have gone through, it would more than foolish to enter another one, especially with their main adversary: the British. Besides Spain has enough troubles going through a slight decline, though he will never be admitting to it while he is consul. Luckily, they have him there representing the entire empire. If he may be honest, he appreciated how King Edward gently breached the topic of war. Not to fully press onto it nor dancing around it as if it did not exist, but to acknowledge it in a calming way. "If I may say, Your Majesty, I suppose some of what your subjects have told me are true. You are a gentle, reasonable king. Very kind nonetheless."
Edward's gaze shifted about for a second, before returning to Sabbas again. He had noticed that the Spaniard was handsome, but that wasn't unusual. Lots of people were. That didn't mean he was interested. He was not. He had just noticed. That was all. "My thanks, Sir Valiente." he replied. "I do my best to be a good and fair king." he felt like he wasn't, though. Henry Marshall had been executed just six months ago for a crime Edward was also guilty of. A crime that he had lied in order to escape any punishment for. Had he not lied not only to the court, but to God, in that moment? He had claimed to be someone he was not, had claimed to not be struggling with a sin that he was certainly struggling with. How could he call himself a good, fair, or just king, when he was guilty of such a black and terrible sin?
(not me, venting some of my own religious trauma via Edward–)
(It's all good in the neighborhood! I tend to flow some family trauma into ocs, definitely will happen with Sabbas)
Staring into the king's eyes, he did his best to examine and observe without letting his gaze wander for too long. Something feels off with King Edward, as if the monarch had some sort of woe tied to him that he cannot let go. Eyes always show a sign of something detrimental, yet they do not show anything else as to what or why. A burden on his back to carry like Atlas with the world, but what would His Majesty's heavy world be? Why is he, of all people, noticing this?
"I am certain that you are, Your Majesty. May God help you with the heaviest of troubles, though I see that you are mighty, just like the rest of your people." A soft smile of assurance swept across his face. Smiles were something that were either strategically planned or strategically made for him. A feeling of the mood between them changing led him to put on a decently happy face. "I hope, Your Majesty, that you will be so kind and bestow some of your mighty courage and good will onto me."
(oof lol. good to know)
Edward couldn't help the faint smile that he returned to Sabbas. "I have a feeling that you are quite courageous and strong on your own; after all, you are here. You are a very long way from your home, in the royal palace of a nation that is, admittedly, not on the best of terms with your own. I would say that that, in itself, takes a good amount of bravery and strength." he paused for a moment. "And may God help us both. We all need it." the words were not said in a hopeless or melancholic manner, simply in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
God. He wondered if that will ever be a sensitive subject to bring upon. After all, he is a Catholic amongst Anglicans. A Spaniard, a Moor, and a Catholic; coincidentally, the perfect trifecta for an enemy of the British crown. On the other hand, the rumors of King Edward being pious seems to be true. At least they can bond over religion to a certain degree.
"Thank you, my king. You truly do have a way with words, I must say." Well, suppose that King Edward is right. Funny though, that in some ways, he is safer here than he is at home, except for when he dances with thorns rather than buds. "I am merely doing my duty to the people of Spain and the people of Great Britain, my dear king."
"En las malas se conoce a los amigos," He nodded. "In bad situations, you will know your friends. A simple proverb that a priest taught me a long time ago, Your Majesty. God brings to us the ones we need the most in the most unexpected of times. I believe he will help us in ways more than one."
(England was mostly Anglican at the time, though in real history, the king who would be king instead of Edward was a staunch Catholic lol)
"Of course, but your duty is a difficult one, and for that you should be commended." the king replied. This Spaniard was certainly charming, for all his flaws. He was a Spaniard, a Moor, a Catholic. Flawed. But so were all people, were they not? "Your priest was a wise one." he said, not touching on the fact that this priest would likely have been Catholic. "And, indeed, God always brings the people or things that we need, without warning. He works in mysterious ways."
(Oh shoot, my bad lol. My brain is mixed up with all these periods of history and countries I have to switch between. No worries, I got it. My mind was in Hungary for a second for some reason. Lo siento. )
So far, he has been given a few compliments from King Edward, and he is not sure how to feel about it. Perhaps it is natural. Even as he bowed his head in thanks, he kept his eyes on the kindly monarch. And perhaps, it is time for him to steer thr conversation away from God. While impressions should be made around others, philosophical conversations on separate territories should be avoided in crowds.
"He does indeed, Your Majesty. Hopefully in this wonderful kingdom, he will treat me graciously just as you are right this very moment," He mused. "I hope to speak as eloquently as you do, my king; alas I am better spoken when in my mother tongue."
Some strands of hair fell in front of his face. Bowing his head again, he turned to the side to fix it. Facing King Edward once again, he said, "My apologies, Your Majesty; I do my best with it. Are you available for tea tomorrow afternoon, whether for business or to just simply converse? My one servant makes excellent horchata, it is a sweet rice drink with cinnamon."
(nah it's totally fine! Anglicanism calls itself a mix between catholicism and protestant-ism, so you were like. halfway there lol)
Edward considered the question for a moment. "I will have to check on my schedule, but if I am free, we may be able to meet." he made no promises, but he did think it could be beneficial to get to know this Spaniard better. He would not tell him, of course, but some of the servants assigned to serve him were also, well, spies. He needed to keep an eye on all the ambassadors and consuls from other countries, and having the servants double as spies was very, very helpful in that regard.
"Very well then." Sabbas let the warmth in his expression linger. Really, he would not be surprised if the king is not able to. Kings always have something to do, even if seems as if they do not. Although he needs to work on establishing a stable relationship with King Edward, so then the tensions for everyone's sake. He will find the opportunity too, and by God, he will get it. "I understand if you are not able to. Besides, I know that you are a busy king after all. Some people on your court have told me about how Your Majesty has been busy the last few months, and to still have time to worship nevertheless. You are quite the monarch, Your Majesty."
Edward exhaled softly. "I must make the time to worship. I require the Lord's help in every aspect of my life, and if I do not ask Him for it, how shall I receive his kindness and mercy?" he replied. "I will certainly check my schedule, though, and try to find a way to fit you in. I will make time for you somehow, sir Valiente." this was important. Relations between their two countries were important. Edward knew that, and he was going to do his best to carry that out.
The question was fascinating for him as it made him wonder for a moment. In a way, Sabbas was not sure of his personal stance on religion. Yes, he is a child of God and he shall worship the deity in his own way, but some of the beliefs that come along are preposterous to him. According to the church, he is as they say, promiscuous to a certain degree; it is not his fault though. God has given him a handsome face and a personality, he must take advantage. "Your inquiry is intriguing, Your Majesty. Now, this is just my personal thought, but perhaps following the good morals paved for us, looking after the less fortunate, remaining faithful to others….Maybe those are other ways to receive his kindness and mercy."
"Please do not burden yourself with this matter," He asked in calm tone. "Given the state of our empires' relationship and everything, I know it is a necessity for us to meet, although, I would not mind if we meet in two days or even next week. We can arrange for a meeting in a few days, if that is alright with you, my king; and then onwards, we shall meet on a regular basis to maintain the relationship and communication between our lovely empires."
"It was a question I did not expect an answer to." Edward replied with a faint smile. "Though I appreciate your response nontheless." he ran a hand through his hair, studying Sabbas quietly. "And yes, of course. We will certainly figure out a time for a meeting that works for the both of us." he adjusted his crown, hands dropping back down to his sides, and another soft smile tugging at his lips.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," He smiled, lightly chuckling. "Before I left Spain, I was advised to answer every single question you ask whether it be necessary or rhetorical. Besides, I was aroused by your question that led me to answer it." Sabbas watched as King Edward combed his hair with his hand. The gentle curly blond hair is beautiful, that is for sure. He recalled how it looked in the portrait, although, it was much better to see in person. Even with it being the king, he still enjoyed admiring the looks of others. Smiling back at the king, he nodded, "And so we shall."
His eyes gazed around at the others for a second before they returned to get a glimpse of that gentle smile. Naturally, he himself could not help but smile back at the king. Sabbas bowed his head. "I do not wish to keep you from other foreign and domestic officials. The night is still so young too. I shall meet you again whenever you are available. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Majesty."
Edward nodded. "Of course." he replied. "I shall see you about, then." he stepped away, moving off into the crowd in order to converse with others. The short cape he wore swirled about his shoulders, the deep purple underside dramatic and telling of his status as a royal. His conversation with other officials and nobles was easy; it consisted mostly of small talk, greetings, inquiries after family or country status. Nothing too challenging or difficult.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Once again, he lowered his head while he slowly went into a bow. As the king walked, he lifted his head to get one more glance. A pressure on his chest had lifted then strolled along with the monarch. The sounds of his heart pounding had become less deafening. Initially, he went back to watching people dance, but it did not last for long. Next thing he knew, there were was a French consul and others from King Edward's court that had come over to engage in a conversation. They mostly talked about affairs either back in their home countries or in Great Britain.
(Should we skip to a time where they meet or something?)
(yeah sure! Want me to handle it?)
The ball went on for hours. There was food and drinks provided, and many of the nobles and officials got progressively more and more tipsy, glasses of wine held in their hands. The dancing continued as well, and eventually the ball began to draw to a close, nobles leaving. Some left with spouses, some alone, and others more covertly with, well, not their spouses. These balls nearly always ended in such a manner. The queen left before the king, accompanied by some of her ladies in waiting as she headed to her rooms after saying farewell to her husband.
