<span style="font-style: italic">"...My Lady.."</span><br/><br/>Her ears heard a whisper, but her mind and heart did not. Genevieve suppressed a wince while her heart began to race. Why was she having such a reaction? As the King attempted to calm Genevieve, she couldn't help notice just how close they were. The neck of her gown suddenly seemed much too tight, despite the give of the cloth, and she could feel his body heat sink into her skin. Or was that her own? Genevieve flushed. She was acting ridiculous. Either she was being a love sick puppy, or a scared rabbit: her mind, however, couldn't tell. Regardless, she was acting the fool.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"They have already approved you...they have come because they cannot wait to see you."</span><br/><br/>The King's words were a comfort to Genevieve and she noticeably calmed. She looked to their hands. She was unsure when exactly he had taken hers, but goodness was it warm, and large. His hand enveloped her own, making her feel safe, but also, a little vulnerable. It was soft and Genevieve found herself wanting him to touch her cheek-<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"...do you think you can last a little longer, My Lady?"</span><br/><br/>Pulled from her little day dream,  Genevieve managed a small nod. She wouldn't have to actually address the crowd herself. The tension in her shoulders began to loosen. She would be just fine. Of course, as the King went on with his instructions, Genevieve couldn't help but feel embarrassed. She had such a negative reaction and, even now, felt shaky and nervous despite the control she was regaining. Perhaps a little bit of rest would do her some good. With her mind preoccupied with how she was feeling, Genevieve only half listened to what the king was saying. Until he touched her back.<br/><br/>A shock ran up Genevieve's spine as she felt the heat from his hand. She was uncomfortabley aware of it. The trembling that had settled returned and Genevieve tried to hide it by gripping her skirts with her free hand. She knew if she were to speak her voice would quake with...fear? Anticipation? But.. Anticipation of what? Genevieve's thoughts seemed clouded and she had a hard time grasping onto any of them.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">And then he bit his lip.</span><br/><br/>Perhaps it was a combination of the stress, his touch, and their proximity, but the look on his face!<span style="font-style: italic">"Is this ...to your liking?"</span>Her mouth wouldn't move. It took what little will power she had left to tear her eyes from his lips and meet his gaze.<span style="font-style: italic">"My Lady?"</span>"Yes, My Lord." Goodness, but she couldn't catch her breath! The room felt tighter and her gown? It seemed to be restricting her in the worst ways possible.<br/><br/>As if saved by an angel, Elenore came to Genevieve's side and took her other hand. "My Lord, I shall take her to the balcony and await your signal. Perhaps it would help Lady Genevieve to sit at an open window. Surely the morning air will help her regain her strength." Elenore awaited their dismissal before they both curtsied and Elenore wisked Genevieve from the room, a knowing look in her aged eyes as she supported the girl with a hand at her elbow.<br/><br/>Only when Genevieve was sitting in a tufted chair at the open doors of the balcony did she allow herself to lose her composure. "What.." Her hair moved from her face as she fanned herself. "What was wrong with me back there?" Elenore called simply called for a pitcher of water and a bowl while Genevieve continued to flutter the fan across her face. Genevieve wrestled with her thoughts until the water came and Elenore helped Genevieve to wash her face. It certainly helped. When it was time for her to walk out onto the balcony, she did so with a smile and small wave. This wasn't so bad.