A Queen Redestined

Chapter 10

The servant boy with her ceremonial weapons was waiting outside the room when Marie came out, and she nodded at him to follow, so she could proceed with the ceremony once she was officially presented to the king, the queen, and the Vermillion Court.

There were eyes on them as they left for the dining hall. Marie almost felt as if they were burning into her. 

Alfons, to her side, seemed to have no emotion at all whatsover. But perhaps he was all too used to the attention the courtiers paid to him on a daily basis.

There must have been a few hundred or so people in the room where the king and queen broke their fast in the mornings. All eyes turned to her and Alfons when the door opened, their presence announced by the page at the door. For a moment, there was silence, only for a intense buzz to break out again.

Alfons withdrew his arm, and gave her a bow, going by a circuitous route to his usual place at the high table.

Marie took a deep breath. Madam Belrac had told her how to present herself to the king and queen fortunately, and she had the lesson firmly in mind as she made her way unhurriedly down the main aisle to them, with the servant boy in tow. The heavy court dress made it difficult to way in the elegant way that was demanded of court ladies; Marie was thankful for her endless lessons in both sword/fighting and dancing that lent her some form of forced elegance in this moment, with her head held high and her posture like a steel frame despite the swaying metal hoops and pounds of fabric sitting on her.

Once at the bottom of the stairs that led to the high table, she swept them a grand curtsey, and was beckoned up the steps before she presented them with the ceremonial weapons. She recited her pledges to forgo any inheritances she had from the Vifort lands and to commit herself this day forth to her duties as the crown princess consort, beseeching both king and queen at the end to accept her into their care. 

Her voice barely shook. She hoped Madam Belrac was listening somewhere in the room, and was proud of her progress.

The king allowed her to kiss his ring, while the queen came around the table to embrace her once more, this time openly, as a sign to the courtiers of her affection.

For such a momentous occasion, the giving up of her family name, Marie thought it felt very anticlimatic. 

Then again she supposed the deal had already been sealed weeks ago, before she had ever stepped foot in Marimiers. This introduction to court was just a formality, that was all.

The royals dined in public, so to speak, every morning. Lunch and dinner were a little more erratic- sometimes they were private, sometimes they were not. That is, they dined in full view of the courtiers, and once in a while bequeathed certain dishes to certain nobles as a sign of their favour. 

It was in essence, a mind game that the king played with his court, as was almost nearly everything that happened in Marimiers. 

Marie was seated beside Alfons to the side of the high table, and from there, she got to see exactly how the game was played. It was fascinating, in a grotesque sort of way, to see a favoured courtier come and thank His Majesty for the dish that was bequeathed, and how some other select courtiers, likely their enemies, seethed at their places at the low tables.

She could see Madam Belrac and Elizaveta, from their different tables, watching her in return, and occasionally glancing meaningfully at certain courtiers.

Barely her first day in, and already the political games had begun. Or perhaps more accurately, they had always been ongoing, and she was merely sliding in as a short interval before they started up again.

Alfons seemed to be indifferent to it all.

Piers Vifort came near the end of the meal, summoned at last by the king.

”You’re related to Lady Marie as a second cousin, I believe?” the king said, and Count Vifort managed a polite if thin smile.

”It’s been many years since I’ve seen Marie,” he said, in a low, silky voice. ”How the years have flown. Now she is our princess consort-to-be.” Marie despised him upon sight. But there was no other option than to be polite, so she pasted an equally insincere smile on her face and nodded at him.

”Yes. I was a child when you were last at Castle Vifort. You’ll have to forgive my childish and faint memories, uncle.”

”Not at all. Hardly any fault of the children if the elders were tucked away in libraries discussing politics and didn’t come to meet them.”

Tucked away indeed. Marie remembered when Piers Vifort had been at the castle last. There had been shouting matches for days in the library, and Piers Vifort had stormed off at the end of the week, never to return. To this day, Marie still had no idea what her father and his cousin had fought so fiercely about, and she was determined to send a letter to find out now.

”I hope to see more of you in court in the days to come, uncle,” Marie said, and Piers gave her a bow, almost mocking in how perfectly executed it was.

”I look forward to it as well.”

The king bequeathed him a plate of exquisitely made honey pastries, as a celebration of his family coming to Marimiers, and Marie watched with slightly narrowed eyes as he retreated and turned away back to his own table.

She really was going to have to watch out for him.

—

Elizaveta came to draw her aside once the king and queen had taken their leave, and a number of courtiers with them besides for morning activities to begin. Alfons had disappeared before she could even say a word to him. Expected perhaps, but as his new bride to be, Marie was starting to feel a little abandoned.

”He disappears often, you shouldn’t mind it too much,” Elizaveta tried to reassure her, and Marie sighed softly.

”I hope it gets better once I have a chance to clarify things with him.”

”I’m sure it will.” She put an arm through Marie’s, and gently directed her towards the table she had been sitting at. ”Come, you need to start meeting people at court. My friends are all quite eager to get to know you, and I know Madam Belrac has already arranged for your afternoon to be taken up with some of  the older ladies who will meet you at your drawing room after lunch.”

It was a social flurry Marie felt she could not have been adequately prepared for, even though she had already known theoretically what would happen on her first day at court.

Elizaveta’s friends were all younger courtiers, almost all from wealthy noble Vemaen families, with the exception of one or two who were from border families like Marie’s. They crowded around her, exclaiming over how pretty she was, how fascinating it was that she came from the Southlands, wasn’t it such a interestingly wild place? 

Marie wasn’t sure what she thought of that, of having the Southlands being called wild. It sounded like they were insinuating something else, although she couldn’t be sure.

Out of this crowd of young tittering nobles though, Marie couldn’t help noticing the one sour face in the back. A pretty face, belonging to a slender, elegant noble girl, but that face was unmistakeably scowling at Marie.