Genevieve

Isabella stared at the city of Erythrae, capital of Apollonia, coming closer and closer into view.

"You're going to live here Gen! Look at the blue roofs on the houses! And that big tower! Do you think that's a temple?"

"That's the palace. Greek temples don't look like our cathedrals."

"Genevieve, that's where you're going to live!"

She smiled down at Isabella. "You said that already."

They came closer to the dock, and Isabella began jumping up and down with excitement.

"Can you smell that? The captain mentioned a dish called a melomakarona, do you think that's what I smell?"

Genevieve climbed down the gangplank, took the hand offered to her, and looked back at her sister.

"It's possible."

"Do you think the Prince will be handsome?"

"It's possible."

"He is, Your Highness, I assure you." a voice from beside the royal carriage said.

Genevieve's head whirled around, and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. An incredibly handsome man who looked to be about her father's age sauntered up to them. His hair was long, and he kept it unpowdered, allowing for the golden-blonde colour to show.

"I apologise for my sister's behaviour, sir." she said in Greek.

He smiled warmly at the pair of them.

"No need, Your Highness."

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Kýrios. . . ?"

"How rude of me! Raised in the palace and I still forget royal protocol, forgive me." He bowed. "Dimitrius Vatatzes, Doúkas tou Chélorou."

Isabella was looking between the two of them, obviously confused, as she only spoke French, German, and English. The duke noticed, and turned to her, bowing even deeper than he had to Genevieve and kissing her hand.

"And this must be Princess Genevieve!" he said in French. "You look much younger than sixteen, that shall be useful when you are as old as I am!"

Isabella giggled. "No, she's Genevieve. I'm Princess Isabella, her younger sister."

"Of course! My apologies. Come! Sit in the carriage and you both can tell me all about whether Palladia is still as beautiful as it was when I was last there."

He offered them each an arm, and helped them both into the carriage, very careful not to show any of the extra respect to rank that Genevieve was often given. She decided she liked the duke a great deal. He spoke to them entirely in French for Isabella's benefit, and answered her incessant questions without so much as a roll of his eyes.

"And Princess Genevieve? Is there anything you wish to know?"

"Oh, I've read quite a bit about the history and religion of Apollonia."

Dimitrius smiled. "You will get along well with His Majesty. I mean about your future husband? I have known Prince Antonio since he was born."

Genevieve hesitated, unsure whether her instinct to trust the duke was correct. "He will be kind to me, yes?"

"Antonio is very kind. He is quite lively, but if you can handle your sister here," he raised an eyebrow to Isabella, making her giggle, "You shall be just fine."

She nodded, slightly comforted.

"Will we meet him today?" Isabella asked.

"Unfortunately, he is travelling at the moment, but he is expected back tomorrow."

That suited Genevieve just fine. In truth, Antonio was what interested her least about Apollonia. Perhaps she and Isabella could do some sightseeing, maybe even try one of those melomakarona she wouldn't shut up about.

"His sisters? Are they here? I heard he has one my age."

"Ah yes, Sophia is a few years older. She is a great thinker. And Margherita is Genevieve's age. She will be a good friend to you here." he said, turning to Genevieve.

It was lovely that Antonio had sisters. The loudness of her large family was one of the things Genevieve would miss most deeply about home.

The carriage came to a halt at the front of a palace made of a reddish purple marble, and a large circular stained glass window. It was understandable how Isabella had mistaken it for a place of worship, it looked like it could be one of their cathedrals.

Vatatzes, ever the gentleman, helped them each out of the carriage, then offered each of them an arm again. He led them into a sunlit parlour, similar to the one she'd grown up with as a child, but this one didn't seem quite as lived in. There was a lack of chaos, the furniture looked as though it wasn't often used, and although Apollonia's climate was much sunnier than Palladia's, Genevieve remembered her own home feeling much warmer.

A tall, formidable man with a thick auburn beard was standing by the window. He noticed them and walked closer. Genevieve instantly recognized him as the king, simply by how his very presence made the room stand at attention. He had a smile on his face, but it did not reach his eyes in the same way Dimitrius' did.

He addressed her in French, his voice deep. "Welcome, Princess Genevieve. You are even lovelier than your portrait."

Genevieve knew these courtly compliments. She knew this game, and loved the practised ease of following a script with little variation. She addressed him in Greek. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Your palace is as exquisite as your country." Compliment women on their looks and clothes, compliment men on their homes and possessions, she remembered her governess telling her in an etiquette lesson.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed with her perfect accent. She felt Dimitrius squeeze her arm.

"She might speak Greek better than us, don't you think, Peter?"

A small smile from the king, this time reaching his eyes. Genevieve supposed Dimitrius brought that out in everyone.

"Your pronunciation is quite impressive, Your Highness. Though I am not surprised, your mother says you have a thirst for learning languages."

"Not just languages, sir."

Peter nodded. "Good. My son often neglects his studies. Perhaps you will be a good influence on him."

Genevieve felt Isabella pulling on her skirts discreetly. She took her sister's arm and pulled her forward.

"Your Majesty, please allow me to introduce my younger sister, Princess Isabella, Duchess of Abollard. I am afraid she does not speak Greek."

Peter gave a slight bow of acknowledgement, the exact height expected for a princess who was not the eldest.

"Princess Isabella was just expressing her excitement to try a melomakarona. Perhaps the kitchens could prepare some?" Dimitrius addressed the King, (in French so Isabella could understand! He truly was too kind).

Isabella looked at the king eagerly.

"We will have them tomorrow, for Antonio's homecoming. They are his favourites."

Isabella curtsied, then stepped back.

"Come. The queen and princesses are eager to meet you." He offered an arm to Genevieve with a smile, while Dimitrius offered his to Isabella with a dramatic flourish.

The queen smiled at her when she entered the room, simply beaming with excitement. There were three girls behind her, each of varying heights, and with three different hair colours.

"Your Highnesses, allow me to introduce my wife, Queen Danielle of Apollonia, and my daughters: the princesses Margherita," the tall, brunette one curtsied, "Sofia," the blonde one, "and Regina." The smallest one, with hair a brighter shade of red than her father's, let go of her governess' hand and curtsied.

The king addressed his daughters. "Girls, this is Princess Genevieve of Palladia. She is to be your new sister, I expect you to treat her with kindness." he turned to them, "have some Loukoumades."

Isabella did not hesitate. As quickly as was appropriate, she moved to the plate of fried dough balls and immediately popped one in her mouth, eyes rolling back into her head. Genevieve laughed and shook her head at her younger sister's antics, then turned to see that Princess Margherita was standing next to her, a small smile on her face. She curtsied quickly.

"I think the melomakarona is forgotten for now." Genevieve said in Greek, smiling.

The princess chuckled. "She reminds me of my brother at that age."

"Would you tell me about him?"

"He cannot stand still, not for a moment. And he smiles often, he is always making everyone laugh. You'll like him, everybody does."

"The Doúkas tou Chélorou said the same."

The princess chuckled at that.

"The Doúkas is the same way. Antonio takes after him more than he does my father."

She and Princess Margherita (who insisted she refer to her as Rita, the way her friends and family did) chatted happily for a while, making Genevieve relieved that she would have a friend at court even after Isabella left. It felt like mere moments before the king announced in a booming tone that it was time to retire.

She and Rita curtsied at one another, and Isabella came up to take her arm so that they could be shown to her rooms to dress for dinner.

Dinner was formal, which meant that Genevieve would dine with the royal family and the rest of the courtiers, where Isabella would eat in the nursery with the young princesses.

This was not completely foreign to Genevieve and Isabella, the practice was observed whenever ambassadors or other state visitors came to court, but most of the time all seven children dined with their parents. Genevieve wondered if this was the case in Apollonia as well.

Genevieve loved her family, she truly did. She loved their warmth and laughter, loved the knowledge that she would always have a place with them. But she loved the courtly games. It felt like she was in a lesson where she was being constantly tested, but always knew the answers. And she found it was easier to perform without her family there. At home, she was Gen, who had run naked through the gardens at three years old because Rosella dared her to; but here, she could be anyone she wanted, and that excited her.