Marianne Newhook stood within the crowd of noble dignitaries beneath the walls of the inner fortress of Castle Greyrook, capital of the Kingdom of Gandora. She wore a simple but elegant blue sleeveless dress that was trimmed and encrusted with golden squares that wrapped around her shoulders, and the modest neckline. It was a garment that befit her station and wealth, but there was nobody here she meant to impress. She'd only found herself in this crowd, awaiting a victorious army, at the behest of her older sister. Farelia Newhook was five years Marianne's senior, and had been wed last year to the boring and severe Lord Clement Braughtley. But Marianne always considered Farelia to be a guiding element in her life. So when Marianne wrote to her older sister about her tribulations catching her man abed with a serving girl, she insisted she had to join her in Gandora City as her handmaiden.
And so, the brunette from far-off Ralmeere had joined Farelia and taken up residence in the expansive courts and apartments of Castle Greyrook. Over the past several weeks, she'd ingrained herself in Farelia's circle of friends, especially the girls that were of an age with the twenty year old Marianne. Namely, mischievous Nyrene Pryce, who never met a boy she didn't like. And of course, there was the brash and honest Sharra Darly, the charming redhead from the far-off Bonecoast who wanted nothing more than to ensure the best of lives for her friends in the city.
Marianne hadn't yet decided if her sister had been right. Certainly, a change of scenery, being far from the locale of Sir Victor's betrayal had done quite a lot for her emotional state. But still, the memories remained. She and Victor, a retainer of her father's, had been engaged in the sweetest of courtships, characterized by long summer strolls on the walls of Ralmeere Fortress and warm winter nights abed under layers of passionate sweat.
Yet that crashed to pieces months ago, when Marianne paid a visit to Sir Victor's meagre chambers. She wanted to bring him his favorite vintage of wine from her fathers' stores, a sweet treat that they were to share together like they had so many times before. However, when the dark wooded door crept open at her touch, he saw the slender knight atop a serving girl. Zelsra was her name, Marianne thought, or perhaps it was Zeeta. She wasn't sure of the girl's name, but her face was burned into her memory. Watching as it shifted from bliss to horror as her brown eyes met Marianne's. Victor took no notice at first, and the taut muscles of his ass flexed as he drove into the lithe servant twice more, before he looked over his shoulder and issued Marianne a horrified look of his own.
The subsequent conversations between the two had been brief and cold, nothing like the year of courtship that preceded that day. Things were over between the two. Marianne had not mentioned anything regarding the infidelity to her father, the Lord Andrew Newhook, but Victor took a different assignment guarding a shrine in the country outside Ralmeere. Marianne was unsure what happened to Zelsra. Perhaps she followed him? Perhaps they were married, even. Perhaps she was round with child, and their days were full of warm smiles and long walks and passionate nights, similar to what she had with Victor at one point. Oh, Victor. Sweet, shaggy haired, smirking Victor.
Marianne loved children. She knew she wanted one, or two, even, when the time came. Women who had children out of wedlock were pitied and chastised. Many of those girls visited fallen doctors or forest clerics to rid them of the child prior to birth, but if Victor had gotten her with child, she would have kept the babe. She wondered what their son would have looked like. Would it look like Victor, with the same sad and darkened face? Or would he have looked like her, and her lord father?
Painful visions of what transpired and what might have been eroded at the edges of Marianne's vision until the lazy rumble of trotting horses brought her back to the present. The army had returned.
Or rather, the noble elements of the army. Much like the neighboring kingdoms, the Gandoran forces were primarily lead by an intermixing of educated nobles and veteran generals, and it was the nobleman who poured into the castle courtyard to strut for the audience of proud and cheering nobles that congregated here.
These men had been off for some time, nearly a year, bringing a smattering of unorganized tribes into the realm through a series of decisive victories. After their conquest had completed, they turned right back around to return to the Gandoran capital, eager to return home.
Nyrene elbowed Marianne. "Well. Look at that." she said, her voice coiling with interest. The black haired girl wore a white set of fitted pants that was studded with silver, and a simple blouse with a flattering neckline, criss crossed with grey laces that provided tiny windows to her pale skin. "Pour that in a wineglass." she said with a nod to the man at the head of the arriving procession.
