Prologue


Raoul never found an interest in politics and gossip, it was all cheap and an irrelevant way to pass time. He never understood how people couldn't find something to do other than talk, even the servants talked. That's why he dreaded his presence in court that afternoon.

Nothing really happened at court meetings, just gossip, food, and sport, if you could call it that. It was more of the King calling upon his comrades for a dinner party.

As soon as Raoul rode into the courtyard, he was approached by the screams of young women who arrived just to get a glimpse of him. He knew he was attractive, and this was not the first time people had come just to see him. He was used to marriage proposals and letters from desperate young women and the fathers of girls who want his money. At 28, Raoul was the most eligible bachelor under 30, so he had come prepared with his men to shoo away his fans. They rode ahead of him shouting orders at the peasants and pushing back the crowd so he could ride in smoothly.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the other members of the counsel. Instead of the room being filled with laughter and gossip, the whole room was silent. The king nodded at the guards and they closed the doors with a boom. The doors never closed. Raoul took his seat and frowned as the door at the far end of the room opened and 2 guards dragged in a figure wearing a burlap sack on their head. The figure kicked and fought as they were thrown on the ground in front of the king. From the looks of the person on the ground, it was quite a scrawny guy. The King looked at the man with a scowl. "Take the sack off." He said, his eyes not leaving the man.

As the sack came off, Raoul was more than surprised to see it was a woman. And not just a woman, but a beautiful woman. A beautiful, angry woman. Her extremely light blonde hair was cropped to her chin and very messy, and her blue eyes held such ice in them, he was surprised the King didn't back down. Raoul wanted to look at her, but her features were hard to focus on due to the fact that she was squirming and fighting. She kicked her legs out at the guards and attempted to get up several times before being tackled down again. She was wild. Raoul began to find that oddly attractive. After several minutes of yelling and the judgmental looks of the counsel, the king raised his eyebrow, "Are you done with your little tantrum yet?" Raoul was taken aback as she literally growled at him. The King smirked and addressed his council, "Mademoiselle DaaƩ here is a very valuable asset to us as she will be the link between our enemies in England. She was found in the English countryside, her father being a wealthy merchant with connections to Elizabeth, the bastard queen. She will be publically executed and used as an example to any of the English who think fleeing here is a good idea. But first we're going to play a game." He turned to the maids that lined the room, "Take her biggest guest room we have and make sure she looks like royalty when you're done." The girl frowned as she was led away and snatched her arm from the guard who escorted her. As soon as the door closed, the King turned back to the men in front of him, "We are going to integrate her into higher society and show her off as a guest, then, when she is executed publically, everyone will see that it doesn't matter if you're of high status, as long as you're English, you're not welcome."

Raoul felt sick to his stomach when the king finished and the counsel nodded in agreement. He wanted nothing to do with the killing of an innocent. He didn't know what to think or do yet, so he excused himself to dinner and went home feeling dreadful.


Christine didn't fight them as she was lead to her room. She knew she would have to pick her fights, and this was one she would have to save. The guards nodded at the maids and closed them inside the room. The knot in her stomach grew as she heard the lock slide into place. She turned to the maids who were trembling, but she could see the outline of their knives and knew it would be a bad time to get touchy. The oldest maid addressed her in a slightly shaky voice, "Now miss, we don't want to hurt you, but if it comes to that, don't think we won't protect ourselves." She said in a thick Scottish accent, glancing at her companions. Christine looked at her sharply but nodded. They didn't speak another word as they prepared a bath with bits of lavender and vanilla. She undressed herself carefully and slid into the tub wordlessly. Scrubbing her body, the maids were not gentle. She thought she would be bleeding by the time she got out, her skin was entirely red.

By the time she was served tea and her hair was combed, her eyelids began to droop. She frowned at the beverage in her hand and looked up at the women cleaning her room. It soon became impossible to keep her eyes open, and she swear she heard one of her ladies whisper a goodnight before she slipped into a drugged sleep.


A/N Hey guys! This is my first chapter on Fanfiction, and I hope you like it! I know Christine is Swedish/French, and I'm pretty sure half the stuff that I mention in this story is historically inaccurate, but I'll try and do some research anyway. Anyways, this story may or may not become M rated, but I'm not sure.