First chapter in a story about courtly love and intrigue set in an fantasy world. |
Cecilly's Arrival Baroness Cecilly Dulani, late wife of Baron Richard Dulani, clutched her twelve year old daughter, Tamara’s hand as they stepped out of their plain carriage and gazed up at the rising turrets of the Willoweast Palace. Their maids shuffled out behind them, directing the palace servants with their ladies’ bags. Cecilly thanked them all with a smile and a kind word, then led Tamara up the path and towards the gates that led into the courtyard of the palace. A servant who was dressed much more formally then the others approached them with greetings. “Lady Baroness Cecilly Dulani, and her daughter Lady Tamara, I presume?” he bowed courteously to them. Cecilly bowed her head respectfully in return. Tamara just stood, gazing about her with wide blue eyes. “Yes, and you are?” Cecilly replied politely. The servant raised his brow at Cecilly. “Bryant, head servant here at the Willoweast Palace, and I bid you welcome. I am to show you to your chambers.” “Thank-you,” Cecilly smiled to him again, then nodded to her maids to follow her. Her maids had taken charge of the servants carrying the bags with easy smiles and flirtatious eyes, which some might think reflected the teachings of their lady Cecilly. They marched proudly behind Bryant, Cecilly reminding Tamara to act appropriately, then flashing her daughter a smile to remind her that she wasn’t really mad at all; as if courtly manners were just a bit of fun. And to Baroness Cecilly, that is exactly what they were. Duke Leopold was rushing through the sword practises that he had known since he was a small child. Duke Cehelm was panting as he followed through with his defensive moves, attempting to find a flaw in Leopold’s style so that he might be able to make an offensive strike. So far, Leopold wasn’t leaving him much room. “On the rampage, are we Leopold?” Sir Eamonn, a knight, said from his position several yards away, out of range of the flaying swords. “Depends on your definition of a ‘rampage’,” Leopold grunted as he aimed for Cehelm’s right shoulder and was deflected. Eamonn shook his head and sighed. Lord Jeremy, the son of a prominent Duke, approached, buckling his sword sheath to his belt as he did so. He took one look at Leopold and said: “Duke Leopold on the rampage again?” “He denies it,” Eamonn replied. “As he always does,” Jeremy folded his arms and watched curiously. “Cehelm, are we favouring our left leg today?” “Old age has its defects,” Cehelm blocked another shot aimed for his left leg. “Thanks for pointing that out by the way.” “My pleasure,” Jeremy turned to leave, but stopped short, his eye caught by a woman moving across the courtyard. “My lord?” Eamonn asked Jeremy curiously. “Are you ill?” “No. Look…” he pointed at the woman. She had dark, red hair that was braided down in her back and so long that it fell past her waist. She wore a gilded circlet around her head and was wearing a red velvet dress with a black cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She was holding the hand of a young girl, who looked like her younger double. The little girl however, had startling blue eyes instead of dark ones, like her mother, and was wearing a blue gown. The woman had a fair face, high cheekbones, full lips and a glint to her eye that warned Jeremy at once of her nature. Duke Leopold faltered, and Cehelm struck. “Leopold!” Eamonn cried, patting the Duke on his back and shaking his head. Leopold’s eyes were focussed on the same woman that was captivating Jeremy’s interest. “Jeremy, who is that?” “I don’t know, but I am going to find out,” Jeremy muttered. “Dorian!” he called out to his cousin, who was walking across the courtyard towards them. “Yes, o’ swashbuckling cousin of mine?” Dorian called back, swinging his leg over the fence into the practise yard and earning a glare from one of the sword masters. Dorian had never been a favourite here, all “jokes and foolishness” as Master Chriam said on a daily basis. “Who is that woman over there, in the red gown?” Jeremy asked, Leopold, Cehelm and Eamonn came over and greeted Dorian with low bows and waited eagerly for his answer. They had all spied the lady in red and wanted to know a little more about her. “Ah,” Dorian glanced over at her, just as she entered the door into the entrance hall of the palace. “That is Baroness Cecilly Dulani, and her daughter Lady Tamara.” “Is she married?” Jeremy questioned him. “A widow, her husband died a year ago, apparently they hardly knew each other but were very much in love,” Dorian explained. “She has earned herself quite a reputation.” “What do you mean?” Eamonn asked. “Let’s just say that even her maids are causing a stir and she’s hardly been her for five minutes.” “These will be your chambers for the duration of your stay, your maids will be staying in the adjoining chamber,” Bryant indicated a door on the right side of the sitting room. “You have two hours before you may break your fast with the rest of the court.” He bowed and began to leave when Cecilly called him back. “Have all the other courtiers arrived yet?” Cecilly asked him blandly, her face near expressionless. “You are one of the first,” Bryant replied and left, closing the doors behind him. Cecilly gazed around at the heavily decorated sitting room while Tamara found her bedroom and plopped down on the soft feather bed with a loud sigh. Cecilly flung herself down next to her daughter -after telling the maids to unpack and draw a bath- and began to play with Tamara’s braided hair. “What do you think of the palace?” Cecilly stroked her daughter’s hair absentmindedly. “It’s so…big,” Tamara whispered, gazing wondrously at the ceiling which was covered in murals. Cecilly giggled and pulled her daughter into a hug, kissing her lovingly on the top of her head. Leopold, Cehelm and Eamonn were met in the entrance hall by Princes Atticus and Joel, who were on their way to break their fasts. Hardly any of the courtiers had arrived yet for the wedding celebration, so that palace was still on the quieter side. They headed into the main hall where there were servants milling around the tables set up for breakfast in which some members of the permanent court were seated. They all rose when the king and queen entered, and then settled back down again. Leopold sat with Duke Cehelm, after Eamonn left to meet the other knights. Leopold gazed around the room and took in all the other courtiers that had been trickling in over the past few days. At their table sat Duke Edward with his wife Hannah, and their two sons Atticus and Dorian were seated at a separate table. Also with them was Duke Henry and his wife, Margaret, their children, Gwendolyn, Jeremy, Joel, Auriel and Miranda were all over the place, some hadn’t arrived, others hadn’t. Finally, there was Duke Percy, who was an anxious man who sweated far too much for his own good. Angela, Cehelm’s wife entered and Cehelm went to greet her, Leopold noted that her belly was flushed out again with the promise of the couples’ sixth child. As the two of them made their way over, Countess Georgette, a young and shy woman who spent much time at court with her husband Count Luke and their two young children entered and -like Angela-, she was also with child. Lady Christina, wife of Sir Sean, entered with her three daughters, Sabrina, Clove and Einar waiting on her. Christina’s young protégé, whom she had taken under her wing, Virginia, came soon behind -also pregnant. For a moment Leopold wondered about the surprising fertility rate in the court when the woman he recognised from this morning entered. Baroness Cecilly Dulani was resplendent in a dark red silk gown with golden trimmings around the hem and neckline as well as golden embroidery. Her daughter was well behind her, being escorted in by some of the other younger daughters of the courtiers, and she looked as if she belonged there. The Baroness held her chin high and glanced at the people whom she passed that caught her eye and whose eyes had been caught by her. When she passed Leopold, she gave him a longer glance and a slight smile curled upon her lips. This didn’t go unnoticed by Cehelm, Angela or Lord Jeremy who had been watching Cecilly intently since she entered. Leopold had a perfect view of Cecilly through a gap of heads and saw her smile radiantly and at those around her. When all the courtiers finally took their seats, and the servants entered with the first course, she began to talk with those around her. She spoke freely and smiled continuously to those around her. The women seemed to be thrilled with her and the men were equally enamoured. Leopold realised that Cehelm was speaking to him and turned his attention back to them. “…think that Angela shouldn‘t go on the hunt tomorrow?” Cehelm waited for Leopold’s answer. Leopold caught Angela’s eye before he spoke and realised that she had been watching him as he had surveyed Cecilly. “Why shouldn’t she go?” Leopold asked, finally turning his full attention to his friends. “She’s pregnant, she needs her rest, a hunt will do no good for her or the baby,” Cehelm replied, a worried look in his eyes. “I won’t be riding, but I’ll be in a carriage with some of the other ladies. We will not follow the men on the hunt, but will meet you for a midday meal, it is all planned out. Besides, I want to get some fresh air.” Her voice was hard and assertive as she spoke and Cehelm sighed. Cehelm and Angela had been Leopold’s friends for many years, and he had never known the two of them to have a normal husband wife relationship. They saw each other as equals, and this angered many in the court and aroused a lot of gossip amongst the courtiers, but never stopped the couple. “I will not stand in the way of a pregnant woman,” Cehelm said. Angela smiled and kissed him lovingly on the cheek, and Cehelm let a small grin show up on his face which was coarse from living in the north with the harsh winds. He had dark eyes which contrasted well with Angela’s bright green, mischievous ones. She placed a hand on the back of Cehelm’s neck and massaged his shoulders absentmindedly as she observed the goings-on of the court. “That new Baroness is making some allies at her table,” Angela said, glancing at Leopold as she spoke. Leopold didn’t look up from his meal, just nodded. Angela noticed this and pointed it out to Cehelm silently with a simple look. Cehelm shrugged and went back to his own meal, while Cecilly made friends over at her table. “So, tell me who everyone is, I’m dying to know,” Cecilly asked Lady Christina, the wife of a knight who looked to be in her late forties. Christina went through all of the immediate royalty who sat on the raised dais at the front of the room. Then to the Dukes and Duchesses. “Duke Cehelm and his wife Angela, who is pregnant with their sixth child, the oldest is a fifteen-year old named Jared. Next to them is Duke Leopold.” “And is he married?” Cecilly gazed upon Leopold with a raised brow. He had thick curly brown hair that was cut short. Beneath his dark eyebrows lay a pair of equally dark eyes which were focused so strongly on his meal that Cecilly had to smile. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, an obvious fighter, but there was a quiet seriousness about him that betrayed his personality despite his stoic appearance. Stubble grew around his mouth and chin which gave him a rugged look which appealed to Cecilly and reminded her of her late husband, Baron Richard Dulani. His eyes darted up to her and Cecilly held them fearlessly, he seemed surprised but handled it well, flashing the smallest smile before returning his intent gaze to the meal in front of him. Cecilly noted his clothing as elegant but hardy, this man was not your typical gluttonous noble, those who dwelled in excess. “No, he is unmarried,” Christina replied, the woman was either too preoccupied to too dense to notice Cecilly’s interest in the Duke. “Age?” “Early thirties I believe,” Christina said airily, playing absent-mindedly with her food. “Most perfect,” Cecilly muttered, finally turning her gaze away. “Hum?” “Nothing,” Cecilly grinned at her and then launched into a conversation with Christina’s slightly more alert husband, Sir Sean -who had observed everything and mulled over it for the rest of the meal. |