Renaux's Study [By invitation only]

"Enter."

The kings commanding voice comes from the other side of the door. He is at his desk scribbling, but he looks up when Murat enters. He waves his hand at a chair and gives the Commandant a tired smile. "Take a seat Commandant." He murmurs softly, leaning back in his chair his expression darkening. "Tell me what happened in detail." He orders, he had the bones of it already but needed everything from the perspective of the man in charge of his forces.

The comment on a large anti-magic field gets a look from Renaux. That was certainly an issue for many, Goraian's included since that could be used to shut down a cities magical defenses. The report provides little information he hadn't had with the exception of Miss Veil's message. He frowns and the shrugs. "I hardly think Goraia is worth the expenditure of troops. Their government is a product of a coup and has proven to be weak. They are already collapsing from the inside and Isra pushing from the out should be enough to see it collapse. If Lady Naoki requests my direct intervention I will reconsider, until then though we will remain neutral. Our pact is one of defense not aggression."

So far as Renaux was concerned his duty was to his people, not to Isra and not to the people of what was once Medan. There was no reason for Gauldin to go to war. Their alley would most definitely win likely with few casualties so he saw no point in spending his own citizens lives to perhaps save a few from Isra. "I'll write the letters myself. If that is all you are dismissed Commandant." Renaux says wearily, not pleased to hear anyone had died.

Renaux's study was by invitation only, so of course it meant another boundary that Arianne enjoyed breaking. She didn't entirely take advantage, of course. When she knew he was in a meeting with someone important or working on a large bill, she generally knew how to behave.

But this time, she didn't.

She swept in, all bright, fiery hair, sky blue eyes, yellow dress, and cream skin, and as usual, she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

"Renaux! Do you know what happens in six days?" She asked him excitedly, coming forward where the servants closed the door behind her. Her gown trailed over the ground after her, swaying about her long legs until she came to his desk and leaned forward a little, her palms on its surface. A subtle coronet was nestled into the long strands of her red hair.

In six days, of course, their son -- the Crown Prince of Gauldin, Prince Voltaire -- turned four.

Of course, her husband looked a little like deer caught in the headlights. This wasn't a normal look for him, not usually, but every so often, Arianne's ah... unpredictability, seemed to catch him off guard.

"Yes!" she told him. "And Genevieve has sent his first gift -- riding trousers, and jacket, and boots!" Arianne laughed and stood up, clapping her hands once together. "Isn't it wonderful? He can begin riding Neige!"

The pegasus. Arianne meant to put the Crown Prince of Gauldin on a flying horse.

"Well that IS that I said," Arianne laughed, a smile still on her face. She either didn't notice Renaux's growing expression of concern, or didn't put any stock into it. As he voiced a very mild worry -- she also didn't notice that he was carefully choosing his words.

"Yes, of course," she answered as if it were the most natural thing on the world. "My father put me on a horse when I turned four, and it's been the passion of my life ever since. Wait till you see him in Genevieve's clothes; he's darling and looks just like you -- save for the hair, of course."

Their son had been blessed to be as Fire Touched as his mother was.

Arianne scoffed and swept a hand through the air. "He'll be trained by the best and protected by Genevieve's spells, IF he should fall, which he won't, of course. Neige would never allow it."

As had been hoped, Neige and Voltaire had bonded together in such a way that they were almost inseparable. It had been quite an episode when the foal had become too big to continue to allow in the palace.

She watched him as he stood and then began to pace, turning where she had been standing at the edge of his desk. She leaned her bottom against its edge, her hands to either side, and her head tipped a little as she watched him. His warm chuckle made her smile, made her laugh, and then she pushed away from his desk to walk him.

There was a certain... step... to her walk. A certain... rock... to her hips. He'd know it immediately. "Perhaps you just need a distraction," the Queen offered the King, reaching for him when he was close and wrapping her arms around his waist, stepping closer to him so the generous and supple curves of her breasts were pillowed against his chest, the flatness of her stomach against his.

She let her head fall back to look at him, for indeed, he was much taller than her. "You are going to give me what I want, anyway. I'm not sure why you're fighting this. Voltaire should learn to ride. He'll be protected and safe... and you'll make me a very happy Queen." She smiled at her last comment.

She smiled as he gave in to her, and his little redhaired pixie of a wife rose up even further on her tiptoes so her sweet mouth could find his.

Their lips met like hot silk, fitting perfectly, her head tipped so that as her rosy red tiers could gently part, his bold tongue could slip inside and taste her. He'd be able to feel as she melted a little more against him, her hands at his back pressing a little more insistently at the hard wall of his shoulderblades. Her warm sigh slid off her tongue and onto his, body beginning to soften in all the right ways when he finally lifted his dark head.

Arianne was a little breathless, but she smiled nonetheless at his acquiescence, shifting and bouncing a little in his arms with merry triumph and the exciting anticipation of beginning Voltaire's riding lessons.

It seemed the king was not finished with her, however, and she could feel the trace of his lips on the elegant line of her pale throat. She'd awoken the stallion, she thought with a woman's satisfaction.

"Fret all you like, darling," she teased him, shivering as he made the nerves at her throat sing, just beneath her tender flesh. Her hand swept up to slide her fingers into the darkness of his hair. "Perhaps we should fret on the desk..."