[ota] the crown weighs on me

[wouldbetrump]

He hadn't expected some things when he took up the rank of King. And frankly all he could do is stare at the papers on his desk as if they were not there. He'd had a visit from his lovely Grandmother earlier that day, half-listened to her opinions on who he should name Ace in place of Julien, and half-listened to her congratulate him on his decision to remove the 'troublesome' factor. It was always a loving conversation with Vivienne Bernard, oh yes.

He and Michael had been avoiding each other rather well, all things considered. And for a man Clive owed an apology to, the King found himself completely devoid of words.

Instead he felt...he felt as if everyone was watching him with hungry eyes. Half to win his favor, the other half waiting for a sign of weakness before ripping him apart. Heh, maybe he was starting to under David a little too much. Paranoia was starting to creep into everything. And David was another thing that worried him, on top of it. He'd always respected the man, but there was certainly going to bad blood there- even if it wasn't outwardly admitted to.

Reaching out to the side, he picked up his glass of scotch and took a sip of it before leaning back in his chair. He hardly noticed when there was a knock on his door.

Comments

[piqued]

"Of course not, sire."

A King of Spades who didn't Appear to be doing perfectly fabulously wouldn't last long. And a butler who didn't Ask anyway wasn't worth his salt.

"Which is why one feels compelled to ask rather more directly."

[wouldbetrump]

"...I'm fine, really. Just a lot of thinking to do."

Which was not, he supposed, what Chives was hoping to hear out of him at all.

"There isn't anything to worry about."

[piqued]

Not quite, but it will have to be Enough. It doesn't do to question a King overly much. Or, well, not to pick the more Troublesome piece to question.

"...isn't there, sire?"

David? Something to Worry about. Julien? Something to Worry about.

[wouldbetrump]

"Nothing for you, At least, to worry over." Clive attempted, looking up at Chives carefully.

"Somethings are meant to be private worries, and private worries alone."

[piqued]

"And must be, sir?"

Couldn't be given even to the Silent Institution standing here, watching the teacup? It's an offer that has, at least, to be Made, if not taken.

[wouldbetrump]

"A king looks weak when he worries, does he not?"

And a Spade King had little room for apparent weakness. The hounds were already circling about like fiends.

[piqued]

"And a king looks foolish when doesn't admit his worries. Everyone's got them."

It was all about the Audience. Still, it's clearly time to duck his head calmly.

"I'll be back for the cup, sire."

[wouldbetrump]

It was foolish, he supposed, but it didn't stop him from lingering over it in silence. Being open with people had never been his strong suit.

Ever.

"Thank you, Chives." Was all he said as the Butler ducked out of the room, though. Eventually, perhaps, he would share his worries with the man.

Just not today.