RP:Larketian Idol

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

Summary: After admitting to herself that Kelovath has betrayed her (or Macon, this is a post-fact Larket), Josleen fails to join Macon for dinner, which enrages the king. He almost confronts her, but then decides to give her one night. -Just- one night. The following morning, Josleen fails to leave her room for breakfast and Macon, incensed, barges into her room to ask what in the world is keeping her locked up! He invites her to join him in auditioning new kingsguard, which Josleen interprets as the king simply wanting her company. Flattering! Unexpectedly, she yields to him and Macon seizes an opportunity to completely devastate Kelovath.

At the auditions, King and Thane struggle to focus on the parade of warriors and mages. The King is so happy he doesn't even reprimand Josleen for sitting in Jacklin's throne (though servants are reprimanded, -someone's- head -must- roll!). At Josleen's suggestion, King Macon ends the auditions early to return to where the day started.

Fort Freedom

In the evening after the ghostly encounter at Andurla’s old home Macon, as he has for the past several days, arrives to dine at Fort Freedom. However, for the first time since the invitations were extended to her, Josleen does not show up. The King sits out the first course without even looking down at it, still holding out hope that his guest will arrive late. He recalls the events of the morning; his interaction with Andurla’s spirit, and fantasizes about how he could have acted differently while he begrudgingly picks at whatever is on the second plate presented to him. He has word sent to her that she is missing this dinner, and that it is a -good- one, though he hasn't really been paying enough attention to make that assessment. The silent tension builds as The Rage Knight stews alone over stew, only broken up when he barks out orders for a refill of wine. Whoever is stuck bringing out the next course throws up their hands in surrender when he demands an answer to a question they certainly don't have the answer to, ‘Where is that Thane?’ Macon doesn't make it nearly halfway through the meal before doing that thing where you wipe your mouth and then slam the napkin on the tabletop while you rise to your feet, a classic for storming off from a dinner table. Eventually he growls at the right person and finds that Josleen hasn't left her room, and that is where he goes. It is possible she can feel the furious aura coming her way long before he actually reaches her door, where he stops, fist raised to pound against the wood and thinks the better of it. It probably helps that there are several servants in the hall that have stopped to watch The King stomp over to that door and are anticipating a show. Why does he even care if she dines with him or not now? Surely after today she is convinced that the Paladin is the true villain and his task is complete, right? With one more subtle growl that stays at the back of his throat Macon spins around and resigns himself to leaving her be for now and will occupy his evening hearing reports on drow activity in the Eternal Forest or something. He will catch her in the morning when she takes breakfast. No big deal...
Big deal! The following morning Josleen remains holed up in that room and The King's short fuse allows for no more of this nonsense. Crying over -that guy-? Really!? Kelovath’s involvement only tugs at the Fury Knight further. This time around he ignores the stares his approach earns him and also ignores the fact that there's a closed door there. He knocks once and doesn't wait half a second for a response before throwing a shoulder against the wood and violently barging in. That infection of fury subsides momentarily once he is inside and realizes he hasn't thought of anything to say. So it is only after a brief, silent pause that he flings the door shut behind him. Outside, all those snooping servants probably hear some muffled, growled out question about what in the world is keeping her locked up in this room…

Pity the servant who was sent several times to rouse Josleen to dress and dine. "I can't," the Thane would cry. "Tell him it's impossible." No one is going to tell King Macon anything is impossible, and he was left to draw his own conclusions. Josleen spent the evening in alternating bouts of heaving sobs and calm. Her trust in and love for Kelovath was real, and her hopes for their future more coveted than anything else. It was late in the evening when she finally succumbed to sleep, her face pressed to a satin pillow soaked through with tears. In the morning, she manages to rise and groom herself out of habit, despite the dull ache in her heart and the heaviness of her limbs. She orders tea in rose water and a little tonic, then climbs back into a sumptuous bed just minutes ahead of King Macon's rough intrusion. "Macon!" she gasps, forgetting to say his title for the first time when addressing him. She draws up the goose down comforter around her middle, her small frame drowning in the expanse of expensive sheets and pillows. One of the first things Macon may notice is how opulent the room has become during Josleen's short stay. It was always befitting a noble, but now befits a queen. Somehow Josleen has managed to charm her way to every luxury. Lotions and powders crowd the vanity, and a dainty hand-painted ceramic teaset rests on the bedside table. The room smells flowery and feminine. One of the other first things Macon may notice is that Josleen is in nothing but a thin, silky slip that she wears as a nightgown. Which of these two things Macon notices first is a mystery only Macon knows the answer to. She doesn't hide from him or shrink into the comforter beyond the initial surprise. Instead she rises as he demands an answer and crosses to the imported turtle-shell screen partition. She wraps herself in a silk robe that has been hand-embroidered by high elves in Rynvale. There's an entire scenery of a crane taking flight on the back of the robe. Really, how on earth did she manage to get all this stuff? She crosses her arms before her chest and meets Macon's stare with equal parts frustration. She doesn't quite know what to say. He knows why she is upset, so why say it again and risk another breakdown? She shakes her head to indicate she won't speak on her pain anymore. She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to declare whatever urgent news brought him here.

Macon notices the second of those two ‘things he might notice’ first, and keeps on noticing it up until the point the Thane disappears briefly behind the screen. The luxe of the room and the items that contribute it, even while some seem mismatched, the king takes far less notice of. After all, when would he have even been in this room before? He has very little to compare the state of this place now to in his memory and so Josleen’s ability to squeeze out every luxury the fort has to offer sails right over The Furious King's head. Her negligence towards his title is either unnoticed or ignored and when they are staring each other down, the bard making it clear she is not going to speak first, Macon once again silently asks himself -why- exactly he has come to this room. ‘To snap her out of it.’ That answer he gives himself sounds good enough and he is speaking firmly long before the silence in the room is allowed to become uncomfortable. She is his best hope at saving Larketian lives and he“...cannot have you sulking aroun’ the fort forever.” This is a not so subtle suggestion to ‘get over it’ and a slightly subtle reminder that she has a job to do all in one. Macon does not pause for a response before continuing, “I am selecting new Kingsguard this afternoon. You will join me in the throne room t’advise on the selection.” The invitation is pitched as a command (he is a king, you know), but it is a somewhat kind attempt at getting her out of this room and her mind off of Kelovath’s perceived betrayal...

Josleen can feel his eyes on her as she disappears behind the screen. When she emerges in the most expensive caftan money can buy, his hesitation makes it clear he came in here without a clear purpose--aside from her. His invitation elicits a sly grin, the first since the haunted house. There is no reason the Thane of an enemy state should advise on matters as routine as guard hiring. This excuse to be near her is recognized for what it is, as is the implicit kindness in the invitation, even if his tone is not kind. And she likes that tone, too, to be told and to be asked by a man sure of himself. And now that she has absolved him of the most egregious sins, her defenses are lowered and he can pierce her in surprising ways he could not before. Macon's invitation, his tone, her anger at Kelovath's betrayal, her vulnerability in this room (both physically and emotionally), and even Macon's own good looks fuse into a dangerously seductive weapon against Josleen. An image flashes in her mind, of herself wrapped up in Macon, moving against him. She shivers to force the impulsive thought out of her mind and abruptly turns away from Macon towards the vanity, her gaze lowered and cheeks flushed. He can see her face through the mirror's reflection, and if he's ever been around women in his long life, he'll likely have a good idea of why Josleen is suddenly flustered. She composes herself and looks at him through the mirror. "At what time should I be ready?"

Outside the closed door a few of the braver servants have lingered hoping to pick up some hot gossip about The Furious King's temper tantrum thrown towards The Thane of Frostmaw, but they are severely disappointed when the angered shouts they were expecting never come. With every muffled pause of conversation, more of the fort staff leave the area to continue their work in fear of the former sheriff coming out and finding them there eavesdropping. Inside, Macon catches that little grin from Josleen and responds to it by tilting his head slightly to shoot a warning sideways look that says ‘This invitation is normal because I say it is.’ her way. None of her sudden change in demeanor is lost on him as she turns away and his grey gaze shifts to her reflection. The Rage Knight responds with the time the guard selection is to begin, or at least when he thinks it is supposed to (which is the only time that matters really). All the while he is entertaining his own impulsive thought at the sight of her in this state, but unlike the bard, he acts on his. Where perhaps he might have normally hesitated and taken his leave, the king now feels even more emboldened than usual by his recent good fortune, or perceived good fortune. Everything (besides the Rage Stone getting stolen, war with the Kingdom of War, Hureig and Kelovath’s release from captivity, oh and Spittal dying, maybe) has fallen so neatly into place for him thus far, so why not this? One more added slight against his most hated enemy. Of course none of this actually crosses his mind; it is on only one thing, as he closes in on Josleen like a murderer on a kill...

Josleen shivers when Macon touches her, having desired it but never expected it. They're on opposite sides of enemy lines and there are rules for how and when they should interact, yet she turns to face him and meet his lips with hers. Her heart races as she knows this is wrong, she cannot give in to him, but she likes the feel of his body against hers and abandons herself in his desire for her--and vice versa. Any eavesdroppers in the hall are given much to gossip about as the room becomes suspiciously quiet, save the occasional rustle of fabric and the scrape of a perfume bottle being slid to the side. "Macon," she whispers as the encounter gathers heat, but before anything too intimate is exposed, forever altering how they see each other. She pushes on his chest gently, regretting the inches she puts between them even as she must create that distance. "Macon, I'm still Thane of Frostmaw. This can't be." She speaks in whispers, wispy things that can be brushed away.

Macon’s right hand is at the back of the bard’s neck and it reflexively pulls her slightly closer when she pushes him away. He is about to respond with something simple and feral like a growled out ‘So what?’ before the meaning to her words catches up with him. He is sympathetic to the realization that her weakly voiced hesitation is based on an ethical dilemma. She is, technically, his enemy and vice versa. These actions, should they affect the brokering of peace (i.e. the reason Josleen is captive at the fort in the first place), could very well cost Frostmawian and Larketian lives. However this king is not known for his strong moral values, at least outside of the public eye that is. Once more Frostmaw stands in his way, though this time in a much different sense, and so that low growl does show its face despite being initially held back. That very short period of deliberation, during which Josleen should be able to see the gears turning, ends with The King of Larket persisting one last time. The ‘explanation’ he breathes out only infinitesimally better than the instinctive one he held his tongue on, “Tha’ doesn’ matter.” No one needs to know about this after all. Except those damn eavesdroppers outside, apparently.

His growl sends goosebumps up her skin. He seduces her with his lust, as well as his approach which is equal parts rough and slow. She doesn't resist anymore when he exposes her shoulder or anything there after. One maid in particular will get splinters in her ear for it is so firmly pushed against the door to make out every gasp and grunt. First times always go long and they blow past the start time to the auditions. Who dares disturb the king when he is in Josleen's chambers? No one does. Through him, Josleen works out her rage against Kelovath, exorcises the paladin from her system and replaces him with another. Josleen's love life has long been a chain of interlinked men, with no breaks in the chains for her to come to herself. Afterwards they lie for a few minutes in bed to catch their breaths and Josleen glances at the time. The kingsguard hopefuls have been waiting for nearly an hour. Josleen laughs into the back of her hand then bites the flesh there, in disbelief at what has happened but not regretting it. She meets his gaze then glances at the door questioningly. Will he go? "I'll catch up." Therein suggesting that they leave at separate times to confuse the staff. It's too late for that. Within twenty minutes the rumors spread through whispers and knowing looks to every single low level staff and guard member.

Macon does indeed go at her suggestion that he leave first and they arrive at different times, though he is not particularly concerned about the optic, she at least somewhat is and so he opts for this illusion of deception. Staring up at the ceiling just before he gets up to leave, The King looks quite pleased with himself, though once he is through that door and out into the rest of the fort his stone expression is restored and The Fury Knight looks even more intimidating than usual as he stomps through the halls. Gossipers are deterred by his sneers and those that he passes by are treated to a more powerful Rage Stone effect than he has ever been able to conjure up on his own without the actual artifact before. He is going to see the parade of potential kingsguard in his armor and so the candidates will have to wait all the longer while he has that put onto him by some squire/valet. This takes some time and might even be enough to allow Josleen, even with her artificial delay, to arrive in the throne room before him. Should that be the case, she is left with quite a decision to make. In front of the two thrones a long, temporary table is set up, two short stacks of papers set before each royal seat with information on the candidates. The Thrones of Larket are the only place available to sit, so she’ll have to choose one or just stand around waiting for Macon. If timing or The Thane’s indecision leave The King to choose first he will take Jacklin’s throne as usual and motion for her to sit beside him in the former King Consort’s.

Josleen does arrive before Macon, and more gussied up than usual. She always dresses and grooms to impress, but now she wants to seduce, again. Her dress was so chosen so that as she sits beside him he has a view. But where is he? She would never dream of sitting on any throne uninvited, but a servant assures her that a place was set for her before the thrones. The servant fails to specify which one is hers. Nonetheless she blushes a little. The decorum on thrones is not lost on her, nor is this honor. She picks the slightly more feminine throne (though the thrones are a matching pair in terms of style). Sitting in Jacklin's throne, power co-mingles with greed. Queenly fantasies play before her mind's eye, until Macon's arrival dispels those dreams. She smiles at him privately, the secret they share gripped in that coy smile. If she committed any error, she is oblivious to it.

When Macon and the empty Rage Axe come walking around the figurative corner to find Josleen in his favorite chair, Macon’s anger is subdued compared to what it might be on any other given day. Still his grey stare seeks out the servant nearest to him, who is not the one that directed The Thane to sit, and gives him a look like ‘You messed up, kid.’ This and the subtle maddening effect Macon now has on people sets off a chain reaction of fury that sees the servant exiting the room to yell at someone else to pass the buck. Other than that guy, who is surprised, given the rumor he just heard, at the King’s show of anger, no one, particularly not Josleen, is allowed to see his distaste with her choice of seat. The Rage Knight, making sure to take in the view so thoughtfully gifted to him, moves around the table to drop himself onto the throne made for Parsithius, leaning his great axe against the arm of it before doing so. He squirms to find a comfortable position, imagining this chair to be lumpy and not good, while reciprocating the bard’s secret smirk. Once he is done ogling her he raises his hand and shouts out “Le’s start!” and in a few moments the young man whose stats and life history are on the first piece of parchment in front of Macon and Josleen trots out. The king eventually asks some banal question like ‘How long have you been with the sheriff’s office?’ the answer to which is on that piece of paper should he care to look, and they are finally underway.

Josleen is also affected by Macon's rage, but her anger is only directed towards Kelovath and so the furious effect compels her to think unfavorably of the paladin and in comparison even more favorably of Macon. In the post coital haze, he has no equal. A couple servants notice the private smiles shared between king and thane and the rumor mill starts all over again. During the audition, Josleen lets Macon do all the talking. Onlookers would mistakenly believe she is a passive party to all of this, but a keen observer would notice how Josleen occasionally points to interesting responses in application forms and occasionally jots down a question for Macon to ask. From the beginning their dynamic settles naturally into roles and divisions of power. He is the mouthpiece and do-er, and she the schemer, though neither king nor thane has any way of knowing today how this dynamic would leave a mark on the whole of Lithrydel for decades or centuries to come. For now, Josleen, oblivious to that future, is content to flirt and excite Macon between auditioners. She does her best to focus on the task, but she's too excited by his presence now to feel settled at any point. When it comes to the guards, Josleen likes an anti-mage and a bowman, both men. She rates the paladins most unfavorably. If they're to talk of politics again, Josleen won't be the one to bring it up.

Macon drifts lazily through the Kingsguard selection process, often paying more attention to the bard at his side than the continuous line of candidates. He asks the questions she suggests and appreciates the pair that she seems most impressed with. Still, despite his distraction, The King is doing his due diligence, occasionally asking questions meant to rattle or enrage the prospects in order to gauge how even keel they can remain in his infuriating presence. Those queries often reference the fermin plagues or Frostmawian slights against Larket. None of the candidates have the gall to look at The Furious King’s guest sideways when Frostmaw does come up, but a few do fail this maddening test of Macon’s and promptly are shown the door with something like ‘Tha’s enough. Thank you.’ As the process goes on, the former sheriff creates four separate piles of paper which he has privately labeled ‘Yes,’ which is partially occupied by the anti-mage and bowman, ‘Probably,’ ‘Hell No,’ and ‘Are You Kidding Me?’ which is what he shouts at one of the servants after someone that belongs in that pile leaves. The ‘Probably’ pile is likely the most interesting of the four as it contains characters like a young-looking swordswoman, whose only ‘flaw’ appears to be that she is a vampire. Also in that ‘probable’ group is a mountain of a man that claims to have slain several dragons in his lifetime, who Macon suspects is lying. The King plays party to her flirtations in between interviews and it is only once they are mostly done with the ‘auditions’ that he brings up an elephant in the room (right after a minotaur leaves the room). “Will you be returnin’ to Frostmaw?” It is extremely difficult to word this question without it sounding like he is sending her away, but as best he can he makes sure his inflection makes it clear that ‘never’ is an acceptable answer. He has already made it clear that he believes her to be the keystone to peace in this situation despite her denying that notion. The question also serves the purpose of changing her role from ‘guest’ with quotation marks to guest without quotation marks, giving her the option of leaving Larket which was not available until now.

Josleen wholeheartedly agrees that a vampire is a no-go, so if Macon's a racist in this regard, then so is she. Although a few enraged contenders glare at her, only one unnerves her: the centaur, who very nearly charges at her, his look promising that he will break her. She grips onto Macon's hand and pushes back against the throne in fear. When the centaur is escorted away, she adds him to the 'Are you kidding me?!' pile without consulting Macon. During the course of the auditions, Josleen realizes that she feels the effect of Macon's rage less and less today. Strange. As for his question, it isn't ill-received. His constant attention, flirtation, and attempts to put her at ease pay off and she doesn't for a second think he is sending her away. Quite the opposite, she wonders if he fears she'll leave as soon as she gets the opportunity. She sends a circumspect glance around the room to make sure no one watches them, then squeezes his thigh reassuringly, only to be frustrated by his armor. "This needs to go." She laughs softly until she's stalling, unsure how to answer him. She does want to go to Frostmaw, for the city and this war are never far from her heart. "Queen Hildegarde may already be worrying..." Although she doesn't take her responsibilities as a Thane lightly, she is compelled by some mysterious force to stay longer [lust, it's not that mysterious]. "I worry my word alone won't be enough to convince Queen Hildegarde of -his- crimes. She may think I am under your influence." She grins a little at the turn of phrase. "...Well..." She concedes that hypothetical point with a sideways nod, like 'maybe I am.' Though not in the way Hildegarde would fear. The Thane grows pensive, her mood souring as she thinks of Kelovath. A touch of fury colors her expression. "I want him captured." She meets Macon's steel gaze determinedly. "I want him to confess. To her, yes, but also to -me-." She drags her fingers across her lips as if wiping away the venom there. "I can help you capture him." Beat. "Alive."

Macon doesn't particularly overreact to any of the candidates that look upon Josleen unfavorably, though coincidentally none of them end up in the ‘yes’ pile. Even the centaur realistically poses no threat and despite The Thane’s fear, the king does not dramatically draw the Rage Axe or anything like that. When she playfully demands the removal of his armor, the former sheriff looks towards the table in front of them and lifts the stack of papers indicating the remaining hopefuls, leafing through them to show they have about five left before they can get the hell out of here. Macon nods solemnly as she describes her concerns over what The Dragon Queen might think if her Thane returns to Frostmaw with such a dramatic change of heart. Obviously Josleen knows Hildegarde far better than he does, so who is he to argue on how she will react to a scenario like this. Hating Kelovath is a quality Macon appreciates and so the bard’s insistence on vengeance here likely makes her even more attractive in his eyes. He is intrigued (so much so that he has practically forgotten that he is seated in the -worse- throne) by her proposal partially because it involves her betraying the Paladin first hand, and partially because it means delaying her return to Frostmaw. He only has one question, “How?” The next potential Kingsguard comes in and introduces themselves...

Josleen hesitates at his question and is saved by the guard. She feigns attention to the audition, but in truth she is quite absorbed in herself and a sudden onset of anxiety. Although she spent last night fantasizing about confronting Kelovath, to plan for it is quite another matter, and suddenly she is unsure of herself. She imagines his surprise and hurt at what he will perceive as her betrayal. Why does that expression tug at her heart so? Shouldn't she be angry with him? Kelovath is not soeasily replaced by one indiscretion with a handsome king. He persists in her heart no matter how hard she tries to evict him from it. Her stomach flips and plunges into a deep pit of guilt and regret. She sucks in a sharp breath involuntarily. If Macon looks at her questioningly, she points at the guard's application to a passage about how the guard killed fermin which is blatantly a lie-- he got the anatomy so wrong, horns?! Aside from this one interaction, she's distracted, hardly conspiring with Macon at all. Her mind flips through the evidence against Kelovath like a catalog. The paladin's trip to the underdark is the clincher, but had she acted in haste to assume him evil without confronting him first? Has she been fooled by Macon? She looks at the king, who is focused (mostly) on his task. The roughness around his edges don't appear monstrous to her, but indicative of a life of service. He's a military man; he's seen things. Watching him go about something as mundane as hiring guards soothes her. This is normal; he is imperfect but good, and in a way his imperfection is reassuring. Kelovath's perfection always seemed impossible to her--maybe it was. With her focus on Macon, the nausea and guilt subsides slowly. The guard leaves and she says, "He will meet with me if I send word. In Cenril, preferably..." Her stomach flips again and she looks away suddenly, rubbing at her collar in that nervous tic of hers.Torment wrestles calm on her expression, where she wears her emotions plainly. "Macon," suddenly she looks at him, her eyes pleading, "I will help you do this, but he -must- be captured alive. I need to hear him confess all of this." She pauses then adds quickly for Macon's sake, "I believe you, I do. I just need to hear it. I need him to meet my eye and tell him he did these things, and beg for mercy or so help me Sven."

Macon raises a brow incredulously at the description of the fermin this candidate has killed before dropping his elbow onto the table in front of him and his forehead into his hand, massaging his temples in frustration as he interjects with a command, “Describe a fermin to me.” The young man pauses with his mouth wide open at the instruction while that maddening aura flows outward from The King, though the bard sitting next to him seems to be building up an immunity to it somehow. The liar (the guard, not Macon) is sent away and the former sheriff doesn’t need to say it, but that one is going in the ‘Are you kidding me?’ pile. Josleen’s anxiety does not go unnoticed and again in between interviewees The Death Knight turns to her and offers an out in case she needs one, “You don’ need t’do this. There are other ways to capture ‘em... alive.” This much he knows is true because he’s done it once before. The fact is the standing order within Larket is already to capture Kelovath alive, but he isn’t coming here. “He will confess t’all of us when the time comes...” Josleen is included with the rest of Larket in that sentence, “But now that we know he is in Cenril there’s no need t’make yourself bait. Not yet.” The Furious King wants that paladin recaptured as much as anybody, but this is all said in the context of the lie that Kelovath is a dangerous criminal that Macon sees no need in taking the risk of dangling The Thane out in front of. Though his words leave some wiggle room for her to insist on being used to lure the paladin out, as usual this ‘act of kindness and sympathy’ for her is said with an air of command, indicating his decision is final.

Macon's implication that Kelovath is dangerous and may harm Josleen collides head on with her gut-sure belief that Kelovath would never harm her. Despite the deceptions and lies, she can't shake off the feeling that she was (is?) truly loved. But how can they be true if he deceived her so awfully? -Could- he hurt her? But she has seen the truth of the paladin's love in his eyes. Can he fake that too? And what can Macon fake? She shakes her head at Macon's words, though it isn't clear what she is saying 'no' to. She doesn't know herself. Around and around in her busy mind these questions spiral is whirlwind of anxiety. She isn't normally an anxious person, and only the most extreme of circumstances can affect her so totally, but what's more extreme than having your worldview flipped on its heads, your monsters made heroes and lover made villain? It's impossible to come out the otherside of this without her organ of trust irreparably scarred. She turns towards Macon again without meeting is gaze, her own lowered slightly. She shakes her head again, and this time her meaning is clear: she doesn't want to decide now. The next auditioner, and elven ranger, walks in (after this one there's only 3 more to go). Josleen tries to focus on the audition to keep her mind off Kelovath and Macon and the maze of lies, but it's impossible. Her mind inevitably obsesses over her predicament, and it is obvious, because her cheeks burn red and she looks far away. Towards the end of the interview she tries to focus on Macon, to observe him and through his behavior get at the truth. She recalls their encounter before coming to the throne room and flushes red for a different reason. Thinking of him and letting him conquer her keeps the anxiety at bay; it's a salve to the stress, an act of aggression on her part as well, a 'screw you' to the one she believes deceived her. She wants more of the salve, because the alternative, the anxiety, suffocates her. The ranger leaves and the next guard immediately walks in before Josleen or Macon can say anything to each other. So instead she writes on the pad cluttered with questions she suggested Macon should ask: 'I've seen enough of them, but not enough of you.' Once he's read it she immediately scratches it out so no snooping servant eyes can see. She peers up at him suggestively, briefly, before turning her attention to the feline rogue before them. Two more to go.

After the guy who lied about killing fermin Macon is about as ready as anyone to get this process over with. It seems neither one of the interviewers is paying much attention to the elven ranger as the king’s eyes are on Josleen struggling to stay focused most of the time throughout the interview. Still, following that fiasco of a guard serves the elf well and she makes it into the ‘yes’ pile on virtue of not being that guy alone. After the bard’s secret communique, Macon cracks a rare smile and looks her way contemplatively, nodding a few times in response while futilely trying to pass the action off as an acknowledgement of something the next auditioner says. That feline rogue compares unfavorably in every way to the vampiric swordsman from earlier aside from the bloodsucker’s ‘condition’, but the rogue makes his way into the ranks of the Kingsguard as well and it becomes clear The Fury Knight is rushing through these last few now. The next one is probably the most impressive candidate they have seen all day. A self described ‘battle healer’ whose stat sheet reads like a wishlist and whose unique abilities astound. (He flings this one spell that looks like a green fireball at one of the servants and it appears to have restorative properties rather than damaging ones.) Three ‘yes’s in a row. Wow. For any number of reasons The King of Larket decides that is the last kingsguard hopeful he will entertain, and informs whoever is ushering candidates in and out “tha’ will be enough for today.” And follows that up with something -really- inconspicuous like ‘Leave us. We have much to deliberate.’ The final applicant, the one they didn’t get to see: a wizard or something that suspiciously has the word ‘legs’ written on his sheet multiple times. Weird… (The Kings office and chambers are -just- around the corner from the entrance to the throne room, by the way.)

Josleen hides her own grin at Macon's smile behind a hand, playing it off like she's not grinning, but in fact thinking very hard about the auditioner. Hmm, yes, magic, yes, hmm. The grin doesn't reach her eyes. It can't. Her anxiety is a heavy mantle that smothers all other feelings, squashes them flat. When the white mage impresses her with his spell, her brows lift in surprise, but the rest of her remains cool, repressed, smothered by that ever-present weight that she hopes Macon, with his broad axe-swinging shoulders and muscular chest, can lift off of her. The king cuts the auditions short and she is grateful, for the sooner she can be beneath his strong hands, the sooner he can peel off that mantle of stress. The staff leave as commanded, though few are convinced the king and thane will discuss much of anything, given their body language throughout the audition. And they're right, of course, as Josleen rises quickly to stand before Macon's throne and kiss him. Her fingers tug at the collar of his armor suggesting all of this needs to go. She has nothing to say, and if neither does he, she'll follow him to his chambers and help him shed his armor in exchange for his help in shedding her distress (and other things that start with 'd' and end in 'ress'). She's hungrier this time, more desperate and carnal. But it doesn't work, not in full. She lies against him afterwards, but her gaze is on the ceiling and her mind in Cenril. At least the anxiety is less acute, at least it's bearable to think, now. He succeeded there. But the problems don't evaporate, they just get messy with the sheets. // After a few minutes lying in bed beside him, she sits up, her back to him and the headboard, knees bent, elbows on knees and hands massaging the back of her own neck. She shudders involuntarily at some thought then wrings her eyes and wipes her face. The stress returns.

Macon has not changed much about this room since becoming king and much of the decor is exactly the same as Jacklin had left it years ago. It is simple, not quite matching the luxury Josleen has thrown together in her guest room, and still sports a wonderful view of the sunset over Larket that they are nearing the right time for. The king lies on his back after she has broken contact with him and tilts his stare her way without moving his head. He watches the stress creep back in and probably believes her mind is in the wrong place. He can’t confirm his suspicion just from looking, but he is right, Kelovath and Cenril are not taking the passenger seat he feels they should in her thoughts. Even as, everyday, Larket prepares for it, Frostmaw still looms large. With a subtle growl Macon extends his arm and places fingertips against the small of her back, the touch seeking to bring her back into this room while the question that accompanies it does the opposite. “Wha’ will you do?” He’s already said his piece on the matter and so this comes open ended and without the subtext of a command.

Josleen looks back over her shoulder at Macon when he touches her. For half a second her gaze remains distant and preoccupied, but just as quickly she recovers her smile and remembers who she is with. The way Macon gazes at her and lowers his guard just a fraction with her elicits a small, secret smile. She slides on the bed along his side and stretches out against him, her hand sliding up his torso as she falls into place with her head on his shoulder. The sunset lends everything a golden hue, and for a moment she can withstand the color gold, for a moment she forgets whom the color gold represents. "I don't know." She watches her fingers play with Macon's chest hair, some strands dark and some gray. "I defer to your judgment. Whatever you think is best. I could always send word to draw him out, but not be there during the arrest." She grimaces involuntarily as once again she pictures Kelovath's face the moment he realizes he's been betrayed by Josleen. She flips over onto her over side so that although she is still cradled by Macon's arm, her back is to him. Why does it hurt so much to betray Kelovath when she knows he's lied to her all this time? Love needs an off switch. This yo-yo-ing between anger, heartache and regret pains her.

Macon’s arm will surely fall asleep in this position sooner rather than later, but, as any king or peasant in this scenario before him has, he remains unaware of the danger until it actually comes to pass and the pins and needles start. When Josleen turns her back to him, before the inevitable happens, the Fury Knight’s expression turns to stone as she leaves the decision up to him and gives her suggestion. One slate eye squints closed as it is bathed in the direct sunlight washing into the room. Even discussing the capture of the golden Paladin angers him slightly. Briefly he wonders if Kelovath will even show if word gets to him that the bard has been in Larket for the past week or so. Could that fact alone spook him into remaining in hiding even with a request to meet from Josleen? The growl the Rage King leads with is nearly silent before he agrees, “That will be wha’ I ‘ave you do then.” Again his mind wanders to Frostmaw and how this war might end given the recapturing or the not recapturing of the Paladin and his arm falls asleep…