Chapter 1
The rising sun's rays danced across my face as my gossamer drapes flutters lightly in the gentle breeze that blew in the window stirring me from my sleep. I rolled over on my down stuffed mattress breathing in the light scent of the various flowers growing in the gardens outside my window. Horses whinnied from their stalls in the stables, birds sang from their perches in nearby trees and the far away shouts of farmers yelling unintelligibly at their livestock echoed through the foothills of the Alps. A smile tugged at my lips. This was my little kingdom. My beautiful Savoy. My home. The province I would one day govern for my monarch, just as my father did. Though the townsfolk had their doubts about a woman being their voice to their king and being the one who dealt with their complaints or concerns. To them, power was best left to men which irritated me to no end. A woman could govern just as well as a man, are we not all human? Why should the fact that I am a lady, cause such concern or doubt? My father, ever the peacekeeper hushed my anger with nothing but reassurance that I would be the best Princess Savoy would ever see and the fools who doubted me, would return to their homesteads with their tails between their legs for having ever doubted my ability to rule.
Knock! Knock! The unsure knocks at the door brought me out of my thoughts as my new handmaiden, Céline appeared. "Good Morning, my lady." She spoke in French with a curtsy. My nose scrunched up at my lady. "Celine, please call me, Lys. You've been my handmaiden for the last few months since Genevieve met her demise." I said softly with a kind smile. "Yes, My-Lys. My deepest apologies." She said timidly, her cheeks reddening slightly as she hurried forward and set my tea on my nearby night stand. I sniffed the air and my stomach rumbled with longing at the smell of the sausages, bacon and blood pudding. There was also a cup of tea and a message from father sealed with red wax and his seal. I took the letter and with two fingers snapped the seal before unrolling the scroll revealing my father's all too familiar cursive script. In the note he wrote that he had urgent business to attend to in Versailles and I was to govern in his absence. Luckily the next couple of days were uneventful other than audiences with my province people, Talks with our treasury and council members. I placed the letter back on the golden tray, sighing. Sitting in on the talks would mean having to endure the blight that was, Francois Demere. The horrible oldman who undressed me with his eyes and without fail made me feel a thousand times dirtier than I was. The image of his yellowing, cavity ridden teeth would appear when his cracked lips would split into a predatory, wolfish grin never ceased to cause me to shudder. Father was well aware of his appreciation of young ladies and this caused a protectiveness to stir within him whenever I and Monsieur Demere were ever left alone at one of the many parties hosted at our manor. His jaw would tighten, his hands clench into white fists if ever he saw the Lord lay a single hand on my person.
I pushed the thoughts of Monsieur Demere to the back of my mind and began eating the fine meal that I had set aside. Upon the plate was delicious smelling porridge with a dollop of honey in its creamy centre surrounded by my favourite berries. Blackberries and Blueberries. I tucked into my meal while Celine busied herself with picking out various dresses for me to choose from. I hated dresses, I loathed the corsets I had to wear that squeezed my lungs so tightly that each day I was certain that Celine tied it tighter than the day before. It was often that I found myself looking at the poor of Savoy with envy. Never had the women been forced to wear the torture device. I was perplexed of the stories Mama used to tell about her travels when she was no more than a captains' daughter. The pantaloons and short tops the women donned in Persia. The funny and uncomfortable shoes in England and so many more but what I missed the most were the tales of the places she had visited. The enormous snow-capped mountain ranges whose tallest peak disappeared well into the sky. Monk temples were said to be hidden in the range's depths. The blistering heat of the land made completely of sand. No man could live in its fiery expanse for more than an hour without water before meeting their demise. When I was younger I yearned for the life my mother led when she was no more than five. The tangy salty scent of the sea, the mist of the sea causing your hair to be an eternal knot but yet the excitement of the unknown lands at your finger-tips. The ability to travel the end of the earth's four corners. To learn more than any man could, if they stayed trapped in a land.
That was what I was. Trapped. Lucky to be born into wealth and nobility. Cursed to spend my days in one land and possibly never even visit another outside of my dear France. My dear Savoy. At least Savoy had the snow-capped mountains to the east. I couldn't stomach the rest of my breakfast so I left it and swung my legs from under my quilt stuffed with down and padded across the cold surface of flagstones to the dress selection Celine had laid out. Celine stood back to allow me to choose which gown I would wear for the day ahead. In the end I chose my favourite white dress. It was the lightest dress I owned but my father despised it, as it could be soiled so easily! Personally I think it just reminded him of mother. White dresses had been her favourite too. After Celine was certain that I was satisfied with my choice she directed me to the bath she had drawn and laced with rose petals to fragrance the water. "If you should need me my lady—Lys!, I shall await in your quarters." Celine blushed before hurrying out the door. I sighed and stripped down before following the steps down into the bath. I walked along the side of the bath awhile before I finally chose a spot and sat and reclined slightly so the base of my head rested against the ledge of the bath. I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of the rose petals.
I couldn't have been in the bath more than 5 minutes before the doors to my left opened as did the quick steps of a man. My eyes snapped open and I squealed in surprise turning to shield my most intimate parts from the intruder. I heard the intruder gasp. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I shrieked as Celine burst into the room. I finally looked up at my intruder to find a young man. Quite Tall and muscular in poor-kempt clothing. His blond hair askew and his grey-violet eyes as round as saucers as he gazed down at me in astonishment. His jaw opened into a large 'o'. Anger rose up hot inside me. "Any gentleman would at least have the decency not to gape at a woman like a fool and perhaps have the politeness to turn around and stop staring at her as she bathes!" I snapped at him as Celine scurried towards him and shoved him from the room. Yelling at him so fast in French that she became incoherent. After she slammed the doors she came to me. "Are you okay Lys? That imbecile won't bother you again. I'II have him seen to." Celine assured me. "No. Get my clothing, Celine. I want to talk to this gentleman myself."
