I yawned and clung to my bedcovers tightly.
"Marjolaine."
I yawned and clung to my warm bedcovers tightly. It was too cold and too early to be awake.
"Marjolaine. A queen does not keep breakfast waiting."
Cosette.
I shivered as I pushed back the covers and stepped onto the rug next to my bed. Cosette stood at the door, frowning at the apparent delay I was causing. "What time is it?" I asked.
"Time to be awake," came the curt reply. "If you're to stay here as you train to be a queen, then I won't have you be lazy about it like you have been. You're to stick to my planned schedule starting today."
I nodded and she pushed me toward my wardrobe, pulling out the first dress she saw. I let her dress me and pull my corset tight enough to make me lose my breath, nearly fainting. I did not argue with anything she said, only nodded and moved meekly about. I had learned long ago to never argue.
"Today, you are going to be having breakfast with me in the dining hall, since your father does not want to get up. At lunch you will meet with your father and I, and then at dinner we have a guest coming. He is very eligible and rich. Between breakfast and lunch you will have lessons. After lunch you will go outside for a short stroll. You spend far too much time indoors." She paused, frowning at my hair. Once she figured out how to fix the problem, she continued, "After dinner we will gather in the library for conversation with the young man. He might ask you for a stroll, which you will accept, no matter what he is like."
I stared blankly at the mirror, listening to her ramble about the young man's eligibility and how I should not make any brash decisions. She told me I could not be selfish. "You must think of the country, not your own desires," she said in a reprimanding tone, as if I were already refusing to marry him. Once she had finished with my powder, she led me to the dining hall, where we were to eat a very light breakfast. "You need to watch your figure," Cosette said when I stared at my plate in shock. A small amount of fruits and one tiny sausage link sat on the gold-leaf trim plate.
"You're slouching," she commented halfway through the tiny meal.
I sat straighter than I ever had for my instructors at school and she pursed her lips before continuing to eat.
She looked up again soon after. "Don't slurp your drink."
I didn't drink the rest of the meal.
Finally, she sighed and said, "You're a disgrace. Go to your chambers. Your instructor should be up there now."
I nodded my customary nod, gave a small, appropriate curtsy, and left the hall. I kept a straight posture, in case she had left her seat to specifically watch me leave the dining hall and walk to the staircase.
When I reached my chamber door, I sighed, ready to receive a lecture on tardiness from a frumpy old spinster. However, when I entered the room, I found no such woman.
A handsome young man stood at my large window in my parlor, looking down at the grounds below. When he heard the door open, he turned and bowed. "Milady."
"Where is my instructor?" I asked him, wondering what he was doing in my chambers.
He looked surprised. "Why, milady, I'm your instructor."
I blinked at him, a little shocked. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry."
"No, it's fine, milady" he assured me, smiling kindly. "Shall we get started? I'm not sure how far you were at your school…" He gestured to the table piled with his materials and I sat down. He set a paper in front of me and asked, "Does any of this look recognizable to you?" he asked.
I stared at the strange symbols on the page and I shook my head. He showed me several more pages and he looked concerned. "You did not learn much at your school," he said, worry creeping into his voice.
I stared blankly at the only familiar page, hidden under other insignificant ones. "This one is familiar. I had just learned this when I left."
He raised his eyebrows. "This is very basic arithmetic. This is the level at which most students are at by the age of eleven. My youngest brother is just past this lesson."
I looked at him with wide eyes and said, "I didn't leave home until twelve."
"I see. Still, at your age… You should not be this far behind. I cannot believe you attended an establishment that taught so slowly." He frowned at the paper, as if it would suddenly turn into more difficult problems. He tossed it off to the side and pulled a book from his pile. "What were you reading when you left?"
I thought back to my school. "Homer, perhaps? I don't remember," I admitted. "We never really learned much about scholarly things."
He didn't seem to comprehend what I was saying. "What did you learn?"
"Etiquette. We spent a lot of time on posture and speech topics. We learned out to embroider, paint, write letters, dance…"
"You went to a finishing school." He sounded disappointed. "The queen did not mention that."
"I'm sorry," I said, unsure how to respond.
His eyes grew wide and he shook his head. "Oh, no, milady. I apologize, I never introduced myself. I am Professor Holmes Auttenberg. I am pleased to be your instructor." He smiled.
I smiled uncertainly in return. "I am pleased to meet you, Professor."
He frowned, shuffling papers around. "I'm afraid my lesson plans are somewhat out the window now." He sighed. "Let's review then, shall we?"
o.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.o
The Queen stood at her large, ornate Italian mirror. She grinned, pursing her painted lips at the wall and patting her hair, satisfied with the sight she saw. She mocked the mirror, saying, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, I am surely the fairest of them all."
She left the mirror, looking through her window, down at the carriage that had just pulled in. Holding her head high, she scoffed at the sight below. Her plan would go far too smoothly. She hardly needed to work on it at all. If she could not give birth to an heir, then she would find her own way to the throne.
o.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.o
"Stand straight!" I heard the queen hiss as we walked toward the parlor to greet our guests. I grimaced and did as she told. My back had begun to ache far more than it ever had at school.
When we entered the parlor, our guests stood and gave their formal bows. A tall young man stood next to a plain-looking woman. She smiled kindly to us, while her son stood stoically, his chiseled face impassive. He was quite stunning, I had to admit. He had a strong brow and jaw, with deep, penetrating brown eyes, and his brown hair had been styled fashionably.
"Baron Marrow, it is nice to see you again," Cosette said with a grin.
He bowed his head. "It's a pleasure, milady."
"Come, let us eat," the king said.
As we walked towards the dining hall, the queen was by my side, eyeing my posture. It took plenty of effort to keep my back at straight as the wall.
Dinner took an equal amount of effort. Every moment I had to make sure my soup or drink did not slurp and my back sat straighter than the chair back itself. I had to smile politely the whole time and agreed with whatever the baron said, because it was both proper and expected. However, it was also because all of my mental effort couldn't be wasted on expressing any opinion of my own.
"Hunting is such a terrible sport. Though it is popular, I find it terribly silly. I send out the servants to buy meat from a nearby butcher."
I smiled. "That's quite sensible," I said. I imagined myself asking instead, "Whatever do you do to entertain your male guests, then? Have them embroider? Is your meat always fresh from the butcher? I hear butchers have awful meat."
His mother looked to me and smiled, as if understanding my circumstances.
"Shall we have our tea and cakes in the gardens?" the queen asked.
Father cleared his throat. "A marvelous idea."
We informed the head waiter and stepped out to the garden patio, where a table was already set. Conversation began to sway towards the flowers, how lovely the temperature was, and whether or not winter would be harsh this year.
I realized I hadn't spent winter at home since I was eleven. It was far too treacherous to travel during the winter from France back home. My father had sent gifts and I sent him gifts as well, small trinkets we bought on trips to the market.
"I hope there is a great amount of snow this year. Christmas doesn't seem like Christmas without it," Cosette said.
The baron nodded. "I must agree. It makes everything seem so much more… magical."
I desperately wanted to tell the baron that he was beginning to sound like a woman more and more as the night went on.
The king stared at the young man with curiosity, as if thinking the same as I. "Snow is so troublesome. What do you think, Sophie?" he asked me suddenly.
"I think so, too, Father. Snow is a bit troublesome indeed," I replied, "though it is pretty to look at." I smiled, not for show, but at the fact I had finally been able to voice an opinion, though an insignificant one.
o.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.o
"I am beginning to exhaust myself," Father said finally, after we had finished our cakes and had extensive conversations on where the best place was to buy silk from and whether or not this Duchess or that Baroness would be hosting the annual masquerade. He smiled weakly at our guests. "Please excuse me. Sophie, will you help me to my study?"
Cosette put a hand on my arm. "Marjolaine can stay. Surely your butler can help you."
The king stood and held his head high. "I would like Sophie to accompany me. Come, Sophie."
"Of course, Father." I stood and bowed my head at the baron and his mother. "I had a very pleasant evening," I told them with a smile. I took the king's arm and we left the garden.
When we were safely inside, Father sighed. "That boy may be a sight to behold, but not very good at being a court gentleman."
I smiled, letting my posture become less extreme as we strolled the halls of the palace. "I cannot believe he does not hunt. He has no physical or health problems stopping him, that is obvious."
My father nodded with a deep chuckle. "He was not grown up to have a strong backbone, apparently. I will make sure Cosette does not get any ideas. She does not get to choose your groom. If at all possible, I'd like you to make the choice yourself and not anybody else, not even me, though I'd rather it be me than Cosette."
"I'm sure she means well," I lied.
"Perhaps," he said quietly. It was apparent that he knew it was not the truth either. He shook his head and gave another deep chuckle. "You looked like you were suffering terribly, with your stepmother breathing down your neck. Your posture is always flawless, your manners never falter. I cannot see why she must always push you. I thought I should spare you another two hours and have you help me."
I felt my heart warm, basking in my father's affection. "I thank you."
He winced. "No. You do not have anything to thank me for."
I looked at him curiously. "Whatever do you mean?"
We reached his study and I led him to his favorite chair by his fireplace. I sat in the chair near him, waiting for him to speak.
"Sophie, your name should never have been Marjolaine."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Your mother wanted your name to be Sophia Wynne. Cosette named you Marjolaine, since I was to marry her. She said that Sophia Wynne was too plain, and that it would be so clever to combine both your mother's wishes and her own. I was foolish and listened to her."
I stared into the fire. "That is why you call me Sophie, and why Cosette calls me Marjolaine?"
"Yes. Cosette despises me for calling you Sophie," he said glumly. "I try to imagine as if I had indeed named you Sophia Wynne sometimes."
We sat in silence for a few moments. "Can't we go back and change the records?" I asked.
"Cosette would throw a fit."
I furrowed my brows. "Why does it matter? Let her throw a tantrum like a child," I said in frustration. She had no right to name me! She cheated me out of my own mother's wishes.
"It's not that simple, Sophie. You know how manipulative Cosette can be," he said, his voice quiet.
I nodded. Of course it wasn't simple. Nothing had ever been simple.
o.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.o
"Princess, would you like to take a stroll with me?"
I looked up at the baron across the table at breakfast. "I'd be delighted," I forced myself to say.
"What a wonderful idea. We shall follow behind," Cosette piped in, gesturing to the baron's mother. Father once again felt ill and could not join us to break our fast.
We all left the dining room for the gardens, with the women following closely behind. The baron was the first to speak. "You have wonderful posture, and are quite ladylike."
I almost laughed at him. What a thing to say to a princess! Father was right. This young man was not raised to have a strong backbone. "Thank you."
"You look lovely, too," he added.
I smiled, repeating my thanks. "Do you have gardens at your home?" I asked politely.
"Not as beautiful as yours," he replied. "I do love the lilacs you have here. Your tulips are simply stunning. The hyacinth and peonies are quite beautiful as well. My, you have such an extensive range of international flowers!"
"Thank you," I said, trying to remember what a hyacinth was. "Would you like to see the menagerie?"
"Menagerie? I do not care for animals. They're smelly and dirty."
I refused to believe that the first man my stepmother arranged a meeting with was the man with whom I was walking. He didn't even attempt to please me. "I see. Then you wouldn't like to see the stables, then."
"Horses are dangerous. I ride them as little as possible."
Who is this man? I asked myself. "Is there anything that might be of an interest to you? I'd be happy to give you a tour of any part of the castle," I said. "The library, perhaps?"
"I don't really read," he said dully. He sighed, rolling his eyes. He was about to say something, when shouts came to our ears.
"Your Majesty! Your Highness! It's the king!" I turned to see one of the butlers chasing after us.
Cosette's eyes widened, and I felt a twinge of pity for her. Perhaps she might love my father deep down after all, I thought briefly, when the servant's words actually hit me. I left the baron's side without excusing myself and ran inside, not caring what Cosette would say about decorum.
As my feet flew through the halls and my heart beat with fury, my only thoughts were of being alone. If my father passed, there would only be Cosette and I left. I couldn't live with her. My father was the only source of affection in this castle, and I could not live in such a heartless environment for my whole life. There would be no more returning home to my father's praises, only endless days of Cosette's criticism.
"Father!" I cried as I burst open his chamber doors.
The doctor looked up from my father's bedside. "He is not well. While you and the queen were eating and taking a stroll, the king's health dropped. We believe it to be his heart. He is unconscious now. He won't have very long to live. I'm terribly sorry, Your Highness."
I stared at him, unable to grasp what was happening. I shook my head with sorrow, my hands flying to my mouth to keep myself from screaming with agony. I stood off to the side, not allowing myself to stand near my father. I was far too shaken to see him in such a state up close. Most importantly, I did not want to cry.
Cosette came in soon after. I just continued to stand at the side of the room while the doctor repeated to her what he told me. She stood in silence for a long moment, staring at my father's nearly lifeless body. When she seemed to shake herself from her deep thought, she turned to face me. "That means you need to be married soon. The baron has shown interest in you. We don't have time to find another young man. We'll begin arrangements tomorrow."
All thoughts of her love for my father vanished. She wasn't caring, not even deep down. She was cold and heartless, strictly business.
"Father doesn't like him. He does not want him king. He told me so yesterday," I argued. I would notlet this beast control my life decisions while my father was on his death bed.
"He told me the same!" the queen retorted, her eyes bright with anger, her face contorted with disgust. "I do not care. I am doing what is best for the kingdom, and that is getting you an eligible husband! He is rich and from a good family! There is no question about this! Do not question my authority!"
I glared. "We have officials and diplomats to handle government affairs until a decent husband is found!"
She laughed. "Do the peasants want old, stuffy men running their taxes? No! They want one of them. That is who we are!"
"You have no right to control me!" I fumed, unable to hold my anger and hate towards the woman. "You are not my mother! You cannot decide the business of this country, you are foreign! You don't belong here, you never have! You will never be one of my country's people! You are not one of us! Don't you dare pretend that you are!"
I heard the words tumble from my mouth, unable to comprehend from where they were coming. I had never disobeyed anyone. I had most certainly never argued with authority. I had never questioned my place. I never, ever told anyone what I had always thought of Cosette.
"Do not contradict me! Do not talk to me like that!" she growled, as if she forgot that there were others in the room.
"You don't have a clue what is best for this country," I spat back. "You don't have a clue about anything."
Ignoring anything else she had to say, I stormed from the room, holding my head high. Tears that had been holding back suddenly flowed freely as I strode through the castle, not paying any attention to where I was headed.