The Queen's Whisper

The clicking of Cordelia's heels and the shuffling of her dress were the only sounds in the marble hallway as she hurried to her father's office. Unfortunately, the dress she had to wear was weighing her down and the pale purple mantle left her shoulders open to the chilly air. The hallway was dimly lit with oil lanterns and she could barely see the large, cherry oak door that marked The King's chambers. She huffed for a second, regaining her royal composure before swinging the heavy door open. The room was not that large, especially for the office of the king but it suited her father well. He was a simple man who happened to mate to the Queen all those years ago. As she entered she took in a lungful of the vanilla tobacco scent of her father and noticed that there was another young man sitting in a leather high back chair across from her father. He wore a cream suit with a pair of brown leather shoes that matched his hair. Uncanny, Cordelia thought to herself. His bright blue eyes swam with humanity, sending waves of calm that just barely reached Cordelia's stuffy demeanor. The moment she looked to him, the King sent his young doppelganger a small, unsure smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Cordelia stood stiff just inside the doorway, her green eyes trained on her father as the stranger watched her reaction. A kind smile towards Cordelia caused her to soften and return the gesture but she stayed on alert, an inkling that she knew why he was asked to the King's personal office. "Renee" her father's deep voice spoke,, the voice that commanded an army was nowhere to be found though, instead it was kind. Almost soft and pleading. He knew his daughter to be quite stubborn at times and was hoping she would cooperate. "This is Neville Frasier, heir apparent of Wendall." Neville stood from his chair bowing to the future Queen, his frame towering over hers. "Your highness, it's lovely to meet you." She bowed her head towards him, "The pleasure is all mine". The king sat back with a satisfied grunt happy that the two young royals seemed to connect. They will be great friends, he thought to himself. "My dear,, please step from the door. Youre letting in a draft. Come. Sit." he ushered her in. Cordelia obeyed her father, closing the door and taking the second seat across from his desk. A mere 3 feet from the stranger. She relished in the warm fire behind her, coloring her pale cheeks. "Mr. Frasier will be your escort for the ball. The King and Queen will be staying with us as well." Cordelia's nostrils flared but otherwise she kept her composure, nodding her head in understanding. The ball was in 8 days, she hated the thought of it. When she glanced back to Neville, his cheeks were slightly flushed from embarrassment and he seemed to be staring at a boring figurine her father had on a shelf behind his desk. "Yes father." She replied softly bringing her gaze back to him. "Dear, will you please show young Mr. Frasier to his room. South wing, room 7. Allow our young guest here to unpack and freshen up Afterwards, we will meet for tea in the parlor. Perhaps later you can show him around." Cordelia stood nodding to her father, waiting for him to dismiss her. He waved his hand to her and she turned to leave, not bothering to ensure that her guest was following. She knew he was though, as she heard the dull footsteps behind her. "Haven't we met before? " he asked falling into line beside her, one step of his for every 2 of hers. His voice was soft and his Wendalian accent prominent. "Briefly as young kids if I recall." she replied coldly, remembering their juvenile counterparts during a terribly boring state dinner. He paused for a moment as if to remember and then jogged to catch up to her, “I remember. I didn’t know your name was Renee.” he attempted to carry a jovial conversation but Cordelia only felt irritation at him. She was not a social person and despite learning to be a graceful host from a young age, comradery was not her strong suit. “You can call me Cordelia.” she replied tersely. He seemed to finally be catching on to her irritation because he stopped asking senseless questions after that and they walked in an awkward silence. They passed by photos of the queens and kings before her, the portraits lined the beige covered walls as if to protect the hallowed halls. Cordelia often wondered if that's why they were placed there. Neville watched the young woman, remarking in her natural beauty as he followed her to his accomodations. Her red curls bounced as they walked, giving her a youthful aura but he didn't mistake the fire in her jade green eyes. she seemed unaware of his shameless staring with her eyes trainrd forward. They arrived to the series of guest rooms, maids and housekeepers wandering through the doors, not taking notice of the two.. She opened the door for him already seeing his luggage sitting kindly on the floor at the foot of the queen bed. She waved her hand to a white door to the left , "Through there is the bathroom. Everything should be in place for you.. Please let me know if you need anything." Her words were polite however she gave no indication of being amiable, avoiding eye contact with him. She turned her back to leave when he spoke “I know why i’m here and I don’t like it either Cordelia but i’m hoping we can at least be friends.” His message sending a soothing ripple to her nerves, but it’s not like it matters what either of them think or want. Neville Frasier was the man she was to marry if she didn't find her mate in the next 8 days.