Traitor's Vengeance - Part Seventeen
"Where is he?" Marguerite shrieked as she stormed about the poky room she was sharing with her mother. "I don't think I can cope with living like this for much longer."
"Marguerite sit down." Rodmilla barked. She had become used to doing this in the past two days. Before she would never have dreamed of scolding her beloved eldest daughter. But being so close to her all the time made her realise just how spoiled she was.
"I really don't know how you can be so calm. We have lost everything, and all you can do is lie there. Don't you worry that we won't get out of here?"
"As a matter of fact, no I don't. You may not have faith in your cousin but I do. The family will not rest until they get us out of here."
"Well they're certainly taking their time." She continued to stomp up and down. Unlike Rodmilla, Marguerite had no patience. That had skipped Marguerite and all gone to Jacqueline. Thinking of her youngest daughter gave Rodmilla a certain sense of loss. True she had never been a real Ghent as her sister was, but she was nevertheless her child. She was going to miss everything that Mothers so look forward to. Her wedding and her children.
This feeling was quickly overcome however. Rodmilla had no time for sentiment anymore. She had more important things to worry about, such as getting out of this hellhole.
"And why must palace servants stay in their rooms all the time? Surely a workforce with some freedoms work better."
Rodmilla rolled her eyes. Her daughter's hypocrisy was astounding. Only weeks earlier she had wanted Danielle confined to the kitchen, claiming that she was wasting her time in the outdoors.
Danielle. Even the thought of her name made Rodmilla's blood boil. For ten years she had kept that girl even though she was under no obligation to do so. Perhaps she should have sent her to Auguste's brother. It was only her sense of duty to Auguste that had made her keep her at the manor. Now it did not seem worth it. No matter what, Rodmilla would make her pay.
Rodmilla's vengeance filled thoughts were disturbed by one of Marguerite's impromptu temper tantrums. Sudden outbursts of rage had become commonplace in their shared room.
"If I don't get my jewellery soon, I think I shall go mad. these clothes were designed for peasants, not those with a taste for the finer things in life." Marguerite threw herself onto her bed, no longer caring about the pain it caused her. "I need nice things around me. Things fit for a Queen."
Now it was her turn to feel anger. Her anger was fuelled by jealousy. It should be her hanging off the arm of a Prince, not Cindersoot. She wouldn't appreciate the power that comes with such an exalted position. How could she? She had spent most of her life being told what to do.
"Your snoopy page would never have taken advantage of us like this before. He's beginning to think us beneath him. How quickly people change"
"Marguerite dear, he hasn't changed, we have. Remember that before I gave him large sums of money to do what he did."
"That's all some people care about. Money." Marguerite's attitude was beginning to vex Rodmilla. What she said was true, but all the whinging in the world would not get her anywhere. Despite all of her training, Marguerite would never be the great opportunist that Rodmilla was. Without her mother, she would be nowhere.
Just as she was thinking this a piece of paper was again slipped under the door. Marguerite pounced on it, doing a little happy dance. These pieces of paper had become her symbols of hope.
Before she could read it though Rodmilla snatched it from her. She then lost interest and went into a sulk.
Rodmilla unfolded the paper. She instantly recognised the script. She knew that her niece wouldn't let her down. She was only her niece by marriage, the daughter of her sister-in-law, but once a Ghent, always a Ghent. Her first husband's family would not leave her to rot like this.
The note simply told her to expect another visit that night. It would all come to a head soon. Rodmilla could feel it. Tension had been mounting among the servants all day. But of course they wouldn't tell her what was going on. She and Marguerite were intensely disliked by the palace rank and file.
It wasn't long before there was a tap at the door, and the same cloaked figure entered the room.
"What news do you have to give us?" Rodmilla asked. She was desperate for any news that could pertain to Danielle's demise. More than anything this is what she craved.
"I think that I can confidently predict that the marriage will be over within a few days. the Spanish will not budge on their demands. I made sure that the Queen knew exactly what her rights were in view of the treaty. It never takes long for her to persuade her husband. Like all men, he is weak."
This piece of information lured Marguerite into the conversation. "Are they desperately unhappy?"
"I have not seen the Prince today, but SHE was not doing a good job of hiding her pain when I saw her today. And Aunt Rodmilla, how did you ever live in that poky hovel? It's barely a cottage let alone a manor."
"Property close to a royal palace is a great asset niece. Surely you have learned that much during your time in the province. But enough of this chit chat, how do you plan to get us out of here?"
"What do you mean? That was never a part of the plan. You have been sentenced by the King, not even the will of the Ghent's can get you out of this. Your only hope is that one day, when the Prince has his annulment, the King will pardon you. I can do nothing for your plight. But believe me, true justice will be served. You will have your vengeance even if we have to bring down the House of Valois to do it.