honeybee sweetie

“I’ve no idea. Perhaps my mattress and pillow hate me?” Closing her eyes, suddenly overstimulated, Beonne let herself take in a few deep breaths. A yawn sounded. “Wine sounds lovely~ And not since this morning. Oooh, I could eat an entire shank of pork by my lonesome!”

“Baron Harrington,” he said, testing the words. In truth, he couldn’t remember having met the man. A baron was on the lower levels of nobility- he wouldn’t have expected to find the daughter of one alone with the court in France unless she were exceptionally beautiful or rich. Wondering if this girl was considered either, he shrugged. She was young and pretty enough, and a court needed such as those.

Chewing pensively on her lip, Beonne watched the new king’s boots, wondering if all rulers had trouble recalling the “little fish” that made up their lands. Despite her expectation and knowledge that such a thing was probably a wide truth, she felt slighted. 

“I am glad to hear it,” said Edmund, considering that the end of the matter. If he was louder than she liked, she could leave. Well, not yet.

Cursing the pressure that throbbed against her temple, the girl attempted to stifle another yawn that threatened. She waited, demure as she could be, doing her best to attend to His Majesty’s question with polite alertness.

Magda sighed, not wanting to upset her friend. “Can I get you anything? A cup of strong tea might do you some good….. Are you getting ill again, Bee? I know, I’m sorry…. I just worry about you.”

Her own exasperated yawn silenced any more negativity Beonne felt the need to tiredly spew. Slumping, she shook her head. “I’m not ill. Tired,” the blonde repeated wearily. “And what on earth is tea? Though I’d drink anything to make this pounding go away.”

♔|♱     “Should I take that to offence, my lady?” Ana held a stern expression while a smile threatened to tug at the corners of her lips. 

--- The stony expression from the other blonde sent Beonne’s hands fluttering further, this time in apology. “No!” came her adamant objection. “I suppose I mean, well, the sort of fun only certain people, um, well, men really, can provide?” 

“Perhaps, my lady,” said Edmund sternly. “You ought to return to your chambers, if your headache is that terrible.” The King of England had been happy to hear an English accent, but did not take well to being asked to quiet down.

The sight of the king snapped Beonne’s mouth shut so quickly her teeth clacked. Cheeks simmering in shame, she dutifully bowed her head. “It isn’t,” the blonde bit out. “Terrible, that is, Majesty. An inconvenience, at most.” 

♔|♱     “Perhaps you should return to bed if you are unwell or tired.”

---- “I would but lounging in bed is so,” Beonne’s hands flapped in exasperation. “Boring!” Glancing to the princess, thoughts of another night surfaced and she felt her face begin to heat. Huffing, she continued. “It would be nice if someone here were any fun.”

Magda had settled onto the bench next to her friend. ‘Oh, Bee,” she sighed. “Were you in the village again last night?” She knew her friend sometimes snuck off to the tavern, a practice Magda disapproved of. Not due to the alcohol- she was known to partake now and then- but she WORRIED about Beonne.

--- Her nose wrinkled, dragging her lips along until they formed a perfectly childish pout. “I was not,” the blonde chirped. “And I wasn’t aware you were my mother.” 

           ❛ — and what makes you think I would even CONSIDER giving a gift?❜ 

“Because~,” Beonne thrust out her little package. “I am giving you one! Even if yours is just a thank you.”

♚ — Asta smiled at Beonne as her fingers were buried deep in her fur mittens. She glanced around the courtyard before grinning at the blonde. ‘’Oh..’’ She smiled . ‘’Go on then.’’

☼ — “I’m not going anywhere,” the girl puffed, finally on her knees and debating the wisdom of trying to stand. Grinning, she waved her arms out. “You come here!” 

      “Be sure to not drop that, I’ve got important documents in there, if it is dropped it is on you, and you cannot afford to repay for anything that is broken or damaged.” He warned, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched servants take his trunks into his rooms, unaware that someone was watching him. 

☼ — Knowing every inch of Mont Tomb lent itself to it’s own kind of dullness and though she wandered (as she often did), Beonne desperately wished for some sort of excitement. It was nearly Christmas! It was her birthday! 

☼ —  “Who knew that ice could be so dangerous,” Beonne gasped in laughter, trying to scramble form her prone position. Sprawled across a patch of frozen pond, she grinned at he companion. “Are you sure you won’t join me?”

☼ — “Why~?” the girl questioned, head tilting. “Are you not allowed in the stables?” Horses stamped and snuffled around, hiding away from the wet slushy snow that was falling, much like Beonne was.