<div style="text-align: center">​</div><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'">Eleanor was feeling rather bold from the alcohol flooding her veins, and it was showing from the way she was perched on the couch. One leg was slightly raised to rest her sole against the soft fabric, which caused her nightgown to slip down and expose the soft, supple flesh of her thigh. As she had been kept within the walls of the castle for most of her life, the young woman was pale, she looked the true image of a Queen, and it caused her vibrant crimson strands to stand out even more than usual. She was more than prepared for this meeting; in fact, she'd been thinking about it most of the evening. It was what she desired, and she knew Roland was avoiding her, as they had to work together she planned to hopefully ease the tensions between them... They clearly both wanted something that they hadn't thought could ever happen. The Queen didn't see why it couldn't work, but possibly she was looking at the situations with emotions as opposed to logic. The one thing that she'd held onto was the way he'd looked at her after their drunken mishap, the sheer rejection for a split second was enough to cause her a good deal of pain. Eleanor wasn't about to give up, she knew he felt something for her.<br/>
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When the male knocked at the door, Eleanor glanced toward him before giving him a nod, "Please, come in." Her sole left the surface of the beautifully crafted couch as she leaned forward to grab the multiple pages of parchment sitting atop the rustic wooden table. "Sit," The redhead hinted the couch with her gaze before she began to browse through the words she had written earlier. The ink was dry, thankfully. Eleanor was proposing a truce, offering the other Kingdom's a fairly good deal, but she thought it may be risky, which is why she needed Roland. "I feel we can offer some men if the other Kingdom's face war, we would become united. Would we be able to do that with our numbers?" Eleanor was fairly certain they had a decent number to spare, but she needed to be certain they were healthy and able. It was beneath her to offer something that was sub-par. <br/>
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When she turned slightly to face her torso more directly to his line of vision, her nightgown shifted, revealing the soft flesh of her chest and the hint of supple breasts that would serve as a reminder that she was a woman, and she had been for many years. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the hurt she'd felt when he looked upon her earlier in the week, but somehow she found the motivation to slip her hand along his leg, the other dropped the parchment back down onto the side table before she took the chance to ease in closer to Roland. He'd no doubt hear the soft inhale of her breath with nothing other than the sound of the crackling fire in the room. It was bold, but Eleanor wasn't the kind of woman to hold back, especially not now that she was queen.<br/>
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"I know you have been avoiding my presence, that's easy to see when we've known each other as long as we have." Her voice was tender, more so than usual. Her long curls brushed down over her chest and shifted in a glisten of crimson as she swiftly rose her knee to ease it over his lap, her other adjusting to the other in order to rest atop his legs and to prevent him from fleeing. "I remember our kiss, and I remember feeling nothing... improper about it," Her amber orbs searched his handsome features, they were openly displaying her pain at the previous experience they'd shared. "You have been the one man who has been there for me, whatever the need. I have grown, as has my adoration for you." Thankfully, the alcohol had given her the freedom to be confident about her emotional tug toward him. "I felt something, I felt you reach out for me. I know you feel something... else." The petite queen shifted in the lap she sat upon, clearly feeling somewhat uncomfortable with her power play of making it difficult for him to leave. <br/>
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"If you truly do not feel attracted to me, if you feel that you do not care for me any more than a friend does, then I will stop." Ever since Eleanor could talk, she'd made her opinions known. She may have been timid to some extent, but the queen was not the kind of woman to simply step aside and release what she desired, yet, for him, she made an exception. As if to test his feelings, she eased closer and hovered her lips above his. Roland would see the way her chest rose and fell with anxious breath and even the way her lips seemed tentative when they began to sink against his. The soft, tender tiers caressed along his lips, waiting for his reaction while attempting to coax out the lust he'd felt for her before. <br/>
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