SERENDIPITY

CHAPTER ONE

MISS LYLIEVE

It was a cool, glittery morning in Summer's Garde. Dew clung to the flowers and a mist rose above the waters. Droplets of the previous evening's rainfall still fell from the trees, splashing on the cobblestones.

Celeste awoke to pale sunlight streaming through the curtains, slanting across the papered walls and onto the floor. She lay awake for some time, listening to the bustle of the town below. The smell of baking bread wafted through her window, which stood open just a crack. Celeste crossed the room and closed it. The sill was still damp from the rain. She breathed in the scent of the pinewood.

There was a knock at the door. "You may enter," Celeste called, dropping her eyes to her fingers gripping the windowframe. The hinges creaked and light footsteps drew near. "Morning, lady." said a cheery voice from behind Celeste. "Come now, you must prepare yourself for breakfast." it said. Celeste heard the sound of a stool scraping across the hardwood floors. "Lady Celeste, you'll get a splinter from the wood. Come,"

A small, pale hand took Celeste's elbow and led her to the table. The handmaid adjusted the mirror so that it pointed directly at Celeste and tsk'd gently. "I've been telling Roderick to varnish that sill for ages, the lazy oaf." she said. "You look ill, milady. Did you rest well?"

Celeste nodded. She glanced up and saw the maid hovering near her head, a short brunette woman. She took an ivory comb to Celeste's hair, gently tugging it through her tangles. Her hands worked quickly, and she began to chat absentmindedly.

"I hear that Liliana's nephew died, the poor woman. She works down in the kitchens, washes dishes. They say that Miss Gilly's shop just put out a new batch of hats. Beads and lace, I think they said. Fine work. They've been selling some calico dresses, too. All very beautiful, if you're interested, milady."

Celeste traced the edge of the table with a finger, listening to the handmaid talk. It was a nice distraction. "Yes, perhaps I'll go to the market today." She said, lifting her head. Her eyes landed on a little glass bottle that was nearly empty. "I'm almost out of perfume."

"It's a fine morning to be out and about. I'll gather a few servants to escort you after breakfast, milady."

Celeste's smile faded. She had forgotten about breakfast. "Yes, of course," she said, crossing to the armoire. She pulled open the heavy door and stepped aside, letting the light illuminate the hanging dresses. She chose a simple gown, made from georgette fabric printed in summery shades - rose, peach, and a fine, crisp white. Over her shoulders she tied a knitted shawl for warmth.

Celeste descended the many flights of stairs to the dining hall. As she did so, the smells of breakfast cooking below made her stomach growl. She was almost glad she had chosen to eat.

In the dining hall, Delacourt sat waiting for her. He rose when she entered and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. She sat across from him and waited patiently as the servants brought out the food. She ate in near silence, occasionally answering his questions with a murmured 'yes.' He fussed over her, peering at the slight purple-ish shadows under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. Celeste smiled politely, said, "I'm fine, love," and looked back to her plate.

When they had finished eating, two tall, Redguard handmaids appeared with the little Breton from earlier. They led Celeste through to the entry hall and out into the streets, adjusting her barrette and her skirts every now and then.

The townsfolk greeted Celeste as she strolled through the streets, looking into storefront windows with a vague interest. She stopped at Miss Gilly's shop and entered. The room was heavily perfumed, and the curtains were still drawn over the windows. An old woman hobbled out of the backroom.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lylieve. How may I assist you today?" she said, smiling. "I'm just looking around." replied Celeste, taking a few steps toward the dresses. "That's what you always say."

"Say, where did this fabric come from?" Celeste asked, running her fingers over the calico and tracing its patterns. "Hammerfell, my dear." Miss Gilly answered. "We don't use the cheap knock-off prints from High Rock." she said proudly. A small smile graced Celeste's features. "It's lovely."

"Quite." said the old woman. "Are you looking to purchase a gown?" she asked, sounding somewhat hopeful. "Not today, I'm afraid." Miss Gilly shook her head with a small sigh. "Of course. Have a fine day, Lady Celeste."

Celeste browsed through the rest of the market and stopped at the old well. It was made of crumbling stones and was overgrown with moss. It had been there as long as she could remember. She took a seat on a little wooden bench in front of it and said to the handmaids, "Go and look for yourselves. You have my blessing."

They left her in the quiet, empty square. Boughs hung low over the stone walls, shading it. Violets grew in the cracks in the cobblestones and flowering vines adorned everything. It was peaceful.

"A fine morning, isn't it?"

Celeste started. She glanced up and saw a man leaning against one of the mossy walls. He was an Imperial, sun-tanned with black hair tied back in a tail. "I'm sorry," Celeste said, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Do I know you?"

"I don't believe so. I'm just passing through." the man said, approaching her. "Lucien Lachance. And you are?" he said expectantly, holding out a hand. "Celeste Lylieve, good sir." Celeste replied, placing her hand in his. He bent to kiss it. "What finds you here in the shade on such a beautiful day, Miss Lylieve?"

Celeste smiled, glancing downward. "It's peaceful here." she said simply, inviting Lucien to sit on the bench beside her. " 'Tis, it is." he said, looking around. "Almost as peaceful as the square in Chorrol." he added. "You've been to Chorrol?" Celeste asked innocently, toying with the lace on her sleeve. Lucien looked round at her with something like disbelief. "You haven't?"

"No, I was born here in Summer's Garde and I will surely die here." said Celeste, laughing slightly. In truth, the thought made her ache. "You don't have to," Lucien said, taking her hand. "Such a smart, fine lady like you should stay cooped up here for so long."

Celeste laughed again, and this time it was genuine. "I'm married to the baron." she said, shaking her head. "I couldn't just pick up and leave."

"I know I said that I'm only passing through, but I've heard my fair share of gossip about this town." Lucien said, placing his other hand atop their intertwined fingers. "One rumour suggested that perhaps you do not love the baron as he loves you."

Celeste moved as if to pull her hand from his grip, but she stopped halfway. She bit down on her lip. "Perhaps, but..." she paused, searching for just one reason not to leave. "But what?" Lucien prompted softly, brushing her cheek with two fingers. "I don't know."

"Do you not want to see the world, Celeste? Kvatch and Skingrad, and the Abecan sea, and the Castle of Cheydinhal?" he said, pulling her to her feet. "As I said, I've heard many rumours. And I'm a traveler."

Celeste looked up, into Lucien's eyes. She felt a rush in her chest. This was the exact moment that she'd dreamed of; this was her freedom. "Yes," she said, confidence in her voice. "Yes, I want to leave."

Lucien smiled at her. He released her hands, taking a few steps backward. "Meet me here, at sunset." he said.

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.

Celeste did not doubt once that she had made the right choice. From the moment she returned to her darkened, empty room on the fourth floor she began to plan. She would dress lightly, and bring nothing with her but gold. She would have to sneak into the safe room and then down the stairs and out the servant's door. The thought thrilled her. This was her faerie tale moment, the kind she had read about in all of her books.

It was surprisingly easy to get into the safe room. Delacourt kept the key in his nightstand, and he was only ever in his room to sleep. Celeste took a hefty sum and returned the key, then retreated to her room once more. She wore a summer dress printed with flowers and a tied a light, flowing shawl around her waist to keep it from getting in the way.

When the sun hung low in the sky, Celeste deemed it time to leave. She took one last look around her room, with the floral wall paper and the lace curtains. Her bed was made up, and the sill still had not been varnished. She felt no sadness whatsoever as she turned her back on the room that had become so much like a prison for her.

Celeste found that she did not, in fact, have to use the servant's door. She simply told Delacourt that she was going on a quick walk before dinner. He insisted that she bring a handmaid or two with her, but she refused. He smiled up at her and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

"I wondered if you would come." Lucien greeted Celeste when she arrived. She smiled. "I always keep my promises." she said. He tilted his head slightly. "I promise you, Celeste Lylieve, that I will show you the world."

Celeste grinned; she could not contain her joy. Lucien led her to one of the low walls and knelt before her, cupping his hands together. "You have to jump over. I don't believe the guards would let the baron's wife just walk out of the town."

Celeste stepped up and hoisted herself over the wall. She scraped her palms on the rough stone. Lucien followed soon after her. He brushed dirt from his trousers and looked up, smiling at Celeste. He reached out for her hand.

"And now, our odyssey begins."