"Announcing the arrival of the Baroness Celide de Fornatte, your Majesty." The Baroness of the Marches entered the glimmering gilded ivory marble hall, which housed the new King-on-the-Lys in resplendent tapestries and curtains of spun gold, regal in a sweeping burgundy taffeta ball gown, her straw-blonde hair piled high upon her head and powdered white to match her creamy skin. As she approached the king on his dais, she bowed deeply, keeping her head up to look to his gilded feet, careful not to spill her carefully styled hair from its coif. The new king's love for gold was well known even among the serfs, as they called him the Golden Triumph.
"Rise, my lady Baroness. Join me in celebrating this wondrous day in which your king has selected his bride." Celide rose at once, curtseying to the king with a pretty, airy smile and then twirling around to join her sister Myrella at the king's banquet table. As she sat, she noticed more people arriving- the Duchess of Perry, Danu Perrin, the Count and Countess Fon du Lac, the Baron of Carholde whose name Celide had clumsily forgotten, and finally the King's elder brother Renould. He wasn't as handsome as King Karmine; Renould had straight and stringy dull brown hair as opposed to his brother's brown and gold locks, which bounced luxuriously now as he laughed at a joke fair Danu had whispered in his ear. The king was rumored to have a fondness for the widowed duchess, married young and widowed young like Celide herself, and many agreed that he was already wed to her tonight, as opposed to the favored Princess Layda, daughter of the exiled King Sardon, who sat grumpily on the far end of the dais.
Myrella wasn't talking much tonight as her eyes were locked on Prince Larion from the Lower Isles, his sea green eyes lowered quickly behind a mass of raven tangles as he picked at his quail uninterestedly. Myrella was quite comely with her long thick auburn hair and big brown happy eyes, but she was very shy and awkward as she had always been since she was a child. Celide was quite protective over her baby sister and watched this Larion with a mother's wary eyes.
Celide's own quail had grown cold as she filled her thoughts with her own obsession, the king's absent younger brother Anaxes. She had only seen him but once at the coronation, but his sparkling blue eyes and handsome dimpled grin and the way he kept tossing his hair from his face…this had haunted her for lonely nights after.
"My loyal supporters, please let me entertain you tonight with the help of my own royal lutist, the Fool of Sorrow!" Everyone in the hall cheered as the lute player stepped from behind the dais, dressed in a motley costume of blue and black; a masquerade mask fitted with lush feathers covering his face. As he walked towards the table, he grinned, his black pointed shoes adorned with tiny bells tinkling softly, his fingers beginning to strum the lute in a lover's caress. His melodic tenor echoed softly through the walls of the great hall and Celide was quite distracted from the chatter of the ladies around her, gossiping drunkenly. The last verse of "The King's Victory," a song written not even a day after Karmine's sudden victory, flowed around her softly.
He rode up to give the Good King a crown,
But the Exile King, he stood his ground,
Good King's men rear'd up to knock'm down,
Oh and you know the end, you know, you know!
Celide watched a few lords and their ladies get up to lead a circle dance, the remaining at the table laughing and talking loudly through a drunken haze. Myrella and the Prince had even made eye contact, she noticed. His sweaty hair was sticking to his flushed face as he glanced at Myrella shyly and Myrella's own face was redder than dinner wine.
The fool kept playing his lute as the dancers returned to their seats, red faced and laughing breathlessly. The King pulled himself away from Danu's lavish attention enough to stand and shout for silence. All the faces in the room turned to him in an instant, intent on the revelation he was about to reveal.
"I have decided upon a Queen. My love will rule beside me for as long as we live, for I have pledged this to her already, as well as my heart. Welcome your new Queen, Danu of Perry, now Danu Queen-on-the-Lys." A resounding cheer echoed through the halls as Danu stood shyly, her round face glowing with a proud blush. The King took her hand and announced that this day they were wed and were to seal the wedding bond at the pillow tonight. All of the ladies blushed, the older ones smirking at their husbands or kissing them in nostalgia. The men grinned and got up to congratulate the King on his luck.
Celide noticed the lutist staring at her from the bottom of the dais, his brown hair cascading from under his mask, curious blue eyes peering at her and making her almost uncomfortable. It was getting stuffy in the hall just then, so she gathered up her skirts and told her sister she was going to get a bit of fresh air.
The balcony overlooking the river was spectacular and she could see for miles down. Trading ships and little fishing boats sailed by even at this late hour, their torch lights glowing like orange stars. The stars in the sky were out themselves tonight and the moonlight was enough so that there really was no need for torches, but the townsfolk were celebrating the marriage, too. Celide could pick out each of the pictures her grandmother taught her to read in the stars…there was the Little Chair and the Growing Man and the Lovers…she was so engrossed in her star-gazing that she didn't notice that there was another on the balcony with her.
"Celide dans Marches…You are more beautiful every time I see you." Celide turned to see the lutist behind her, changed out of his motley costume and into a deep blue velvet jerkin and deeper blue leggings. His undershirt was fine silk the blue of the summer sky to match his eyes…the eyes of Anaxes, brother to the King. Her shock must have been plain on her face for he smiled quite handsomely and moved forward to take her arm.
"So you have an affection for star-gazing, I see. I have always loved the night sky and have spent many a night under it wondering how many were looking at the same stars. Maybe we shared a night or two like that, yes?"
Celide couldn't help but to look into his eyes as he spoke, her heart fluttering in her throat. "Y-yes…yes, I am sure we have, my lord." She gathered her courage and smiled at him as sweet as she could.
"Shall we go inside where it is warm? I could show you to my chambers. I kept some chilled wine in case I found this lady so willing." He winked at her and she giggled, hiding her wicked smile behind her hand modestly.
"That would be lovely, my lord."
With that he led her from the balcony and to the darkened stairwell, the sounds of drunken liaisons filling the emptiness of the night. As they made their way up the stairs, Celide tripped and nearly tumbled down the stairs over a pair of young lovers groping each other clumsily.
"Pardon me, my lady," said the girl, her meek voice sounding awfully familiar.
"Myrella?" Celide offered.
The girl jumped up, her voice high and wavering, "Oh Cel, please don't tell, we were just kissing, I'm sorry, I…"
Celide cut her off with a kiss on her forehead and continued up the stairs.
"Ah, to be young again," Anaxes mused with a grin. "Do you remember your first kiss, my lady?"
She smiled at him then cast her eyes down to watch her feet as she walked, remembering back quite a few years. "Yes…I remember it. I was eight and my mother had offered to let my cousins stay with us that summer. My oldest cousin Widre had taken a fondness to me and claimed to be my champion.
"One day we were playing in the garden, just us two, when suddenly he took me around the waist and kissed me. I screamed and ran from him but I remembered him always for that. He died in the Kings War last year, I'm afraid. I will miss him; he was very warm hearted."
Anaxes was smiling at Celide sweetly as she related her story, suddenly stopping at a chamber door. "That is very sweet. My first kiss was much the same…but enough stories. Let's have some wine, shall we?"
Anaxes opened the door and heat pushed out at her. A fire roared in the wall at the right while a great wooden red linen covered canopy bed took up the greater part of the left wall. A small cushioned couch sat near the foot of the bed and upon a small table sat a bucket of ice with a decanter of wine lodged in it.
A wheel of yellow cheese sat next to it, a dainty knife sticking up from the center, and two dainty wine glasses beside it. A bowl of fruit sat next to the bed, looking a deal more delicious than the cheese.
"Please sit, my lady, make yourself comfortable. Would you like ice in your wine?" Celide nodded politely, smoothing her skirts and sitting down at the far end of the little couch. Anaxes poured the wine into the two glasses, plopping a few chunks of ice into them. Carefully he handed one to her, smiling until his dimples poked deep into his cheeks. Celide smiled back at him, sipping at her wine slowly.
"Ahhh, don't do it like that, my lady…You have to drink it before it gets warm again. Like this." Throwing his head back, he drained the glass in one fell gulp, gasping and wiping his lips as he looked over to her, his eyes twinkling like wicked little stars.
"You do it now," he commanded. Celide looked at him rather warily, not sure she wanted to do it or could. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes...and gulped down the wine, albeit a bit slower than Anaxes. Her head swam as she opened her eyes again to see Anaxes peeling a peach with the little cheese knife.
"Do you like peaches, my lady? I love them...they are soft and sweet and sticky...just like a woman." Anaxes ran his tongue over the fruit slowly, flicking over a small bump and sucking at it, his eyes turning to her and running through her like electricity and leaving her aching. He sat the peach on the small table and moved to her slowly, crawling towards her like an animal stalking his prey.
"I'd like to find out if you taste like a peach, Celide. I want to know right now." His hands ran over her shoulders and her arms feather light, making her skin prick with goosebumps. Her breath came sharply, each touch more heated than the next, his hands moving over her stomach now and up to her breasts where they lingered teasingly.
