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Wife becomes a voyeur's subject.

Henry grasped Elena's hip tightly with one hand as the other held her hand, pulling her closer to him.

"King Henry," Elena muttered under her breath while smiling at the watchful faces, "it is not proper for you to hold me so close with so many people around!"

"In Lorrea maybe," Henry chuckled, his voice just above a whisper. "But here in Kravaolia, no one will begrudge me a little indecent closeness to my own wife," he said, pulling her even closer so their bodies were as one. Henry's cheek pressed against Elena's as he squeezed her hand in his. "You know the Royal dance of Bapharg'e, I assume?" he said hotly against her ear.

"Yes," Elena replied, remembering the many hours her mother had her tutored in the various dance styles of the neighbouring countries, during which Elena had complained incessantly. She preferred to be out hunting than in uncomfortable shoes and ball gowns rehearsing ridiculous dances.

"Excellent," Henry replied, nodding over Elena's shoulder at the stout little man, who immediately signaled to the string quartet in the corner to start playing.

The music started, slow and calm at first, but grew slowly to a crescendo, during which Henry had them both spinning around the dance floor, Elena clutching Henry tightly - for once in her life she was content not to lead, but to follow.

Soon enough, the musicians had started a new tune, during which many of the guests joined the royal couple on the dance floor. Elena recognised the tune, interpreting correctly that this was a dance which required the female dancer to change partners over and over again.

"Henry," she whispered, "maybe we can sit this one out?"

"Soon," he said, kissing her gently on the lips. "But first we must play host to our guests."

As soon as Henry finished speaking he flung Elena away from him, spinning in circles until she made contact with another man. Elena looked up at the dancer, her cheeks slightly flushed, but altogether grateful that she didn't know him.

"Queen Elena," he murmured, as he held her at a respectable distance.

"Good sir," Elena replied in turn. "What is your name?"

"Elias, my Queen. Elias of the Northgarths."

Elena vaguely recalled something about the area, but nothing too substantial. "An honour to meet you sir," she replied.

"No my Queen, the honour is all mine - I knew your father, a great man."

Elena felt like she had just missed a step, her stomach clenching suddenly. "You knew my father?" Elena repeated quietly, as Elias spun her around.

"Oh yes," he said, reeling her back in. "but that was many years ago, before you were born I believe."

"Oh, how did you know - " Elena started to say, before Elias flung Elena away from him, just as Henry had done previously.

Spinning wildly, Elena craned her neck looking for Elias in the crowd, but couldn't spot him.

She continued to dance, changing partners when required by the music. After her seventh partner, a rather pimply young lord, she was once more spun across the dance floor.

Elena finally came to a halt in the arms of a large, muscular man. Looking up, Elena recognised the flaming red hair and the lopsided smile.

"You!" Elena spat, pulling away automatically.

"Yes - me, Queen Elena," said the man, squeezing her hand in his, none too gently.

"I mean, Prince Argenton, how uh- pleasant - to see you again," Elena lied, her smile faltering slightly before she regained her composure. Argenton's muscular frame boxing her in, she found herself pressed unwillingly and nauseatingly close to him.

"So, tell me Queen Elena, how did a Kravaolian prince manage to win the Princess of Lorrea? I recall distinctly, the day that you recited all my faults as reasons that we would never marry," he said, dipping Elena, causing her to cling to his arms. "I don't know how to tell you this," he smiled down at her wickedly, eyeing her breasts which were on the verge of falling out of her bodice due to gravity, "but Henry is no better than I."

"You are wrong, Prince Argenton, just as you were wrong when we last

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