The next morning was dreary. The clouds were a slate grey that threatened any merry mood. Catherine opened her eyes, and clasped the bed sheets, not remembering how she had got there. Shrugging it off, she began dressing for the day. Today, she would not need her servants to help her-not that she normally needed their help anyways-since she was dressing down. She put on an navy blue colored dress-tan down the middle with navy floral print. She let her natural auburn curls cascade down her back, deciding on a very discreet crown. A crown that was decorated with silver holly. Glancing out the window, she grabbed a matching navy cloak from her ever growing supply of cloaks. She attached it using her favorite clasp-a dove with a single blue diamond on its wings. The rest was made out of pure bronze. A gift from Bash when he had returned to the castle after a failed attempt to become a silversmith. She stood there but a moment admiring it while her thoughts took her to a time with little difficulty and a world of possibilities. Of course, Diane was always a nuisance, but Catherine had loved Bash like one of her own children- though she didn't want to give Henry that satisfaction of knowing this. Slipping on her mink-lined boots, she exited her chambers and went out into the courtyard. The cool wind stroked her face, trying to blowing away her troubles. It had been ages since she had visited the courtyard. The outside world frightened her because of what it did to Francis, but she no longer feared it. Not really. Bash and Narcisse emerged from the the entrance in a heated argument about the best tactic for catching the killer.
"The killer is most likely part of the village," Bash was explaining.
"No. He wouldn't live in the village. There is no way he could send a letter to the Queen from there. No. He must live on land that Henry divided and gave to loyal privy council members."
"This is not the work of a noble."
"Because this is monstrous? Bash, please. I have worked with these men all my life. They would be willing to kill their own mother if it meant rising in the ranks."
"Exactly, Narcisse. The killer is gaining no power from these killings. The motive must be revenge or...satisfaction." Bash lowered his voice as they neared Catherine.
"I would prefer you didn't go, Catherine."
"I'm going all the same."
"I guessed as much," said Bash defeated. "We will start in the middle of the village and work our way out. We could split up…" Catherine's eyes widened for a moment as if questioning his sanity, "but then...one of us might end up dead. Stick together unless you have a guard with you."
"Bash, we are not as brainless as you might think," replied Narcisse with his normal smirk.
"My apologies, Narcisse, for I can't help but hope that if anyone gets taken by the killer, it's you."
"Careful, Sebastian. One might start to wonder if your the killer."
"Sir, we have received word of another murder. It's not as extravagant as the Reverend, but all the same," said a greying haired man. "Your majesty," he said to Catherine as he bowed his head.
"We will be there right away, Alaster," replied Bash as Alaster steered his horse around and retreated back to the village.
"Here, Narcisse. You can take my black horse. He has been resting for two days, so he should be up and ready. Catherine, you can ride with me."
"Sebastian, I'm quite capable of riding my own horse." She retrieved her grey speckled but overall, white horse.
"So, are we going to leave or just stand about gaping?" Cathering gently kicking the side of her horse and galloping away. Narcisse rode up along Bash and whispered menacingly, "Don't ever try to degrade her again."
"I wasn't. And don't even pretend that you haven't degraded her before." With that, Bash whipped his reigns to catch up with Catherine. If looks could kill, Bash would have died twice over from the glare Narcisse was giving him. They reached the village in about an hour where they were led to a nearby pub.
"Who died?" asked Catherine quietly to Bash.
"He was the owner of this pub-only, not a very good one. See, he hired a young couple to look after the pub since he didn't want to put the hard work in, but he refused to give them equal claims to the business much less equal profit."
"Where is this couple?" asked Narcisse snidely.
Aggressively sighing, Bash responded, "I didn't think you were brainless before, Narcisse, but now I think you persuaded me otherwise. If you would have walked into the pub, you would have seen them behind the counter." Clenching his fingers, Narcisse strolled inside with Bash and Catherine bringing up the rear. A small child was seated at one of the tables rubbing his eyes. He looked no more than 7 years old. Bash and Narcisse approached the couple while Catherine stayed behind.
"Hello," she said as she approach the small child, "what's your name?"
"Daddy said I shouldn't talk to strangers," said the child unconvincingly.
"Well your dad was right." Catherine stood up to walk away when the child whispered,
"Marius. My name is Marius."
"That's a beautiful name. I almost named my youngest that," said Catherine reclaiming her seat, "but I thought you said you couldn't talk to strangers?"
"Well…" he said considering for a moment, "I like you. You remind me of those angels that those men draw. My dad took me to Florence once and showed me them. He wanted to be an artist. That's why he owned this pub. To try and make enough money so that we could move to Florence. Now…" the boy began to cry. Catherine held him in a light embrace, choosing her next words carefully.
"Did you know that I was born in Florence?" The boy perked up and wiped away his tears.
"Was it as wonderful as when I saw it? Did the buildings seem to stretch into the heavens?"
"Yes," said Catherine, smiling. "You know what, I see you as being one of those artists, working late into the night but with such passion."
Marius sat up even straighter, "You think I could?"
Catherine laughed, "Of course you could."
"Would you let me sketch you? I actually can draw."
"Sure. I wouldn't mind. I'm going to be here for the next couple of hours."
Marius dashed upstairs to grabbed his notebook and a charcoal pencil. He returned to the table and began his masterpiece. Bash looked over and smiled at Catherine. She returned his gesture.
"So you were at home last night?" asked Narcisse.
"Yes, that's right," the woman replied, "any of our neighbors could vouch for us."
"You better hope so," muttered Narcisse. Bash elbowed him in the ribs.
"Thank you for your time. I hope the business goes well for you."
"I see your companion is taken with Marius." Narcisse and Bash both glanced at Catherine.
"He has no family left, so if she wants to take him, he's hers. We won't stop her."
"Madame, I don't think the court would approve of her bringing an orphan peasant child back to court," replied Narcisse somberly.
"Of course. It was worth a try. Good day."
"I finished," exclaimed Marius-bursting to the brim with excitement, "do you want to see?"
"Of course," said Catherine. He turned his worn, leather notebook around to reveal the most beautiful picture Catherine had ever seen.
"See, when I first saw you, you reminded me of an angel. But when I started drawing, I imagined you to be the queen of the forest. That's why I drew you with a crown of holly berries. They would go with your hair. I imagined you to have this long, white dress that rested a little above your shoulder. My dad used to read me fairy tales about fairies and that sort of thing."
"It's the most beautiful drawing I have ever seen." Marius blushed.
"Would you like to come back to French Court with me? You'd be much safer there."
"Wait a minute...you're….no!..." he stood up abruptly and bowed, "Your Majesty, I'm so sorry."
"No, don't bow. Friends of the queen are not required to bow," Marius grinned at this, "so, what do you say hmm?"
"Yes! I've never been inside a castle before."
"I'll have one of my men escort you back. I will return as soon as I can." Catherine rose, spoke to one of Bash's guards, and waved to Marius as he left.
"Catherine, what are you doing?" asked Narcisse, "The nobles will never allow him at French Court!"
"I don't care what the nobles allow or want, I will keep him at French Court," she said moodily as she stomped off to talk to Bash. The woman from earlier sashayed up to Narcisse.
"I see your friend seems to think a little differently than you, no?" she stated smugly, raising an eyebrow. Narcisse grunted a response and fiercely walked over to Bash and Catherine.
"This is just like the first murder. Alastor was wrong. This was much more extravagant than the first."
"What are you talking about?" asked Catherine as she started to stroll behind the pub to get a better look of the body.
"Catherine," said Bash grasping her arm, "I wouldn't."
"I can handle it," she said yanking her arm out of his grasp. The sight that met her branded itself into her mind. The owner-the skin once a prominent tan faded to a dull, lifeless blue-lying their with his stomach cut open exposing most internal organs. Catherine put her hand to her mouth to prevent herself from vomiting. On his wrist was etched SLOTH.
"I tried to warn you," Bash said as he silently approach. Catherine resumed her normal deadpan face.
"Warn me of what? I said I could handle it, and I can. Now if you will excuse me..."
"I'm surprised at you. Taking in a peasant child. That was bold."
"Your image of me is pretty shallow, Sebastian. Could you at least try to accept the fact that I'm not the cold-hearted monster your mother made me out to be?"
"I'm sorry, Catherine. Honestly, I don't know how you…"
"I would prefer to talk about this another time."
"As you wish," said Bash dejected.
"I say we head back up to the castle. Dusk is approaching," shouted Narcisse.
"You and Catherine go back. I'm going to stay a bit longer," Bash shouted back.
"Bash, no. It's not safe," Catherine whispered harshly.
"I'll be fine. I promise I will return. I will check in with you the second I get back. Reassurance that I'm safe." Catherine quickly hugged him before he could get his sentence out.
"Be careful," she mouthed as she joined Narcisse's side where he they linked arms. She glanced back one last time, her brows scrunched in a worried expression, but she continued on-pulling down on her reigns everytime she felt her horse wandering off. When she turned back around, she could see the brilliant, luminous moon rising over the birch trees that lined the horizon. As she thought of the splendor of it all, Narcisse leaned near her face and gave her a peck on the cheek.
This is the crown, dress, cloak, and clasp I imagined Catherine wearing when she dressed "down"
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