The wind ruffled Meerene's hair messily as she waved excitedly to the people who had gathered on the busy docks to greet her. There must have been hundreds filling the muddy streets along the banks all striving to get a look at the arriving Antivan ship and her precious cargo. Her companion, Pyra, frowned beside her at the fish smell of the port, the course shouts of the sailors guiding the ship to its place and the sprawling city spreading before her.
"You should get down my Lady," she said watching Meerene's precarious position on the railings, "you'll be a mess by the time we're on solid ground." Meerene's rolled her eyes and glanced down at Pyra.
"They've come to see me, I shouldn't disappoint them on my first day here. Besides, I feel sick when I'm below decks. You can help me clean myself up before we disembark." Pyra leant her back against the railings.
"Very well Lady but if it were me I would want to look my best before I met my husband." Meerene shook her head.
"Alistair will forgive me if I am not perfect so long as it is to please my new people," her voice spoke the name confidently but she saw Pyra's face crinkle at her avoidance of the title. It had been six months since Meerene had discovered that she was to marry the King of Ferelden yet today was set to be their first meeting, less than a week before their wedding. In the intervening time she had found out all that she could about the young man; he was tall and comely, he was twenty-five and he was raised in the Chantry. He was also a bastard, at first this had been something of a scandal in Ferelden but such things were of little consequence in her native Antiva. He came to the throne at the end of the blight, whispers said that he had been there when the final blow had been struck and that he was too close to the Grey Wardens for comfort. He rarely drank and he did not gamble but some said he talked too freely and gave his friendship too cheaply. When it came to women the rumours were surprisingly few, some said his Chantry upbringing had left him unwilling to take mistresses, some said he was simply impressively discreet, a few suggested that he was incapable and fewer still said that his preference was for men. Meerene had been too long at the Antivan court to have expected a faithful husband but her hopes had been rising the more that she heard about Alistair. Taken together, the facts that she had were minimal and came from unreliable lips.
When Meerene's father, Lord Maron, had sat her down and told her of the marriage that he had managed to arrange he had introduced her to a new tutor. He had said that he was too concerned with her happiness to send her to a loveless marriage, instead the courtesan Dayla would teach her how to win the foreign King's heart. Courtesans in Antiva were highly thought of, respectable women and Dayla was the darling of the court. Meerene thought at first to object, she thought that she could make a man love her without a Courtesan's tricks; many of the boys at court tried to catch her eye as she passed, she was never without a dance partner and she could amuse them in conversation well enough. When Dayla had entered the room however, Meerene had been dazzled by the brightness of the jewels sewn into her gown, the elegance of her gait and the grace of her smile. Dayla had sat down, her skirts fanning about her and waited quietly for Lord Maron to leave. Once the door was closed and they were alone she had rung the bell for tea and looked at Meerene critically.
"Now, I dont know what you expect from me but we will have no vulgarity; a man always hopes for an innocent in his bed on his wedding night, although many are disappointed. Unless you have already been plucked? In which case I can teach you to hide it well." Meerene's cheeks had reddened and she had lowered her eyes. Dayla had chuckled, "I thought not, you blush prettily, make sure to let him see it the first time he touches you." The tea arrived giving Meerene time to recover her composure while Dayla thanked the servant graciously. When the door closed Meerene leant forward.
"If that's not what you are here to tell me then how can you help?" Dayla picked up the kettle with her dainty fingers and poured them both cups.
"I don't need to teach you to get in his bed, your father had guaranteed your place there, but I can show you how to get into his heart." There began Meerene's most unusual education. She learnt how to listen as though even the oldest story was a new delight, how to speak so as to enchant the ears and how to support her husband's conversation so that he shone. Dayla showed her how to comfort a King without making him feel weak, how to tell when to divert him with entertainment, when to allow him to vent his woes to her and when all he needed was her absence. She learnt how to catch his attention with a glance, how to turn her head to show her neck to its best advantage and how to suggest the curves of her body without appearing immodest. A whole new wardrobe had been purchased to Dayla's instructions and appropriate gifts for both the King and her new ladies who would be chosen from Ferelden's court.
"When it comes to other women you must be tactful," Dayla had said when they were taking cool sherbets on the balcony overlooking the ocean, "I have sent word to friends in Ferelden to try to find out the Kings preferences and who he currently favours. I am not sure what to make of the results, all my informants claim to know absolutely nothing." Dayla sounded annoyed at the failure of her sources, "it seems that King Alistair lives as a monk, it's not a common way for Kings to live but it's not unheard of. You may be one of the rare and lucky Queens who have no need to fear the influence of mistresses. However, we should cover the subject briefly in case my informants have merely missed someone or his behaviour changes in future. Bear in mind that you are not an ordinary wife and he is not an ordinary husband; you have no right to expect fidelity and he has every right to take your life if you are untrue. You are a Queen and you must not notice his attention to anyone else, never scold him, never ask him to stop and never act against his mistresses. However, you cannot let him treat you with disrespect publicly or the rest of the court will feel able to do the same; agree not to complain so long as he keeps his behaviour pivate, so long as he is not a fool he will agree to that." Dayla's voice became suddenly hard and firm, " the exception is if he turns his attention to a woman of great power who may have ambitions to replace you. If it looks like this may happen you must fight it every step of the way. Do not confront him but find ways to remove her; get her relatives positions away from court, spread rumours that she is a slut, that she had a venereal disease, that she is a foreign spy or the pawn of her powerful family, anything that could put him off. If all else fails pay someone to seduce her and ensure that the King hears of it, better still arrange for him to see it with his own eyes. It goes without saying that he must never suspect your hand in her fall."
Dayla had been one of the few to accompany Meerene to the ship that was to take her to Ferelden. They had been almost at the gangplank when Dayla took her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. She pushed Meerene's hair back from her face and smiled.
"He will adore you my dear, I would fear to compete for him myself. Remeber though that there is only so much that you can do; a few men will never be moved by your charms and this is not your fault but you could still have a good life. Make the people of Ferelden love you and they will ensure that the King shows you nothing but respect, if they adore you he must be seen to do the same. His heart will make your life more pleasant, theirs will keep you safe. Now take care of yourself and invite me to court one day."
Now the ship was settled in Ferelden's harbour and Pyra had redone Meerene's long golden hair so that it rested flawlessly on her head. She was trembling as she placed her bright white shoe on the walkway to the shore and stepped out in front of the people of the city of Denerim. The cheering grew in volume and enthusiasm as the young beauty made her way to the open carriage that was to take her to the palace. She was joined by Pyra and Lord Gelan who was sent by the Antivan King to represent her until her marriage. All the way there the streets were full and the noise so great that it rang in her ears. Streamers hung from the buildings and flowers were thrown into her path. By the time that they drew up outside the palace Meerene had gathered so many of the flowers into her arms that she could barely see over them, she hesitated to drop them as she wondered if those who saw her do so would be offended by her lack of respect for their gifts. Pyra took them from her and placed them on the seat at her side so that Meerene was able to stand and descend from the carriage gracefully.
Meerene looked up at the vast palace before her, it was much more imposing than the King's palace in Antiva city with towering turrets and dark grey stone. A massive staircase lined with nobles led up to the tall gates where the royal party was standing. The King was easy to spot in shining golden armour imprinted with the royal crest and a long cloak of pure white. Meerene took Lord Gelan's offered arm and kept her face lowered as she walked carefully up the stone steps. She was suddenly afraid that she might slip although the steps were perfectly even. They came to a stop at the top of the chairs and Gelan's bowed while Meerene drew her skirts out in a deep curtsey. They straightened but Meerene kept her face lowered.
"Your Majesty, his radiance Feron, the King of Antiva, sends his greetings and gifts for the King of Ferelden," servants carried the heavy chest of gold and jewels to the top of the stairs and to one side.
"Ferelden thanks his Majesty for these beautiful gifts and bids you welcome to our shores," the King's voice was firm and deep, as a King's should be Meerene thought.
"Your Majesty, it is my great pleasure to introduce the Lady Meerene, dearest niece of King Feron and Antiva's brightest jewel." Meerene raised her eyes, her heart pounding so hard she felt it may tear through her chest, and looked into the hazel eyes of the man who she was to marry. She was not disappointed. He was tall, with short strawberry blonde hair and a warm smile. His armour fitted his broad frame snuggly and reflected the light in his handsome eyes. Her breath caught as she smiled, letting her nerves show. The King stepped forward and extended his gloved hand to take hers, her fingers felt small on his palm.
"My Lady it is a great pleasure to meet you at last. I hope that the sea voyage has not tired you overmuch, there is a celebration in your honour prepared inside."
"Thank you your Majesty, I found the sea air to be quite invigorating but it is good to be back on firm ground. Your city is quite magnificent." The King laughed.
"I am glad you think it so, my closest Antivan friend tells me that nothing we have here can match the beauty of the parks and fountains of Antiva city. As he tells it Denerim is only barely fit for people to live in. Now let us eat, I am quite famished." The trumpets sounded and the King led the way into the palace, Meerene close to his side.
"I hope I did not keep you waiting too long Alistair," he looked down at her with a frown and she wondered if Dayla had been wrong to tell her to dispense with titles as quickly as possible but his smile returned quickly.
"No, you were right on time. We have prepared a small reception for you but if you would prefer to rest you would be more than welcome." Meerene shook her head eager to make a good first impression on the court.
"I'm anxious to meet your people," she said with a dazzling smile. He turned into a small hall where a carefully selected and welcoming group of courtiers awaited her Alistair watched her navigate the room expertly, speaking to everyone and enchanting them all. He bit his lip nervously, in two nights he would be in bed with this beautiful, sparkling woman. He frowned wondering whether the prospect was more or less terrifying than facing the Arch-Demon.