Queens Disgrace Bk 01 Ch 03

"Your Majesty, it's time to wake up." Jacqueline nudged Marguerite's arm, waking her from her slumber. "We must hurry, or we'll be late for the ceremony."

"What time is it?" Marguerite asked blearily, yawning and stretching as she looked out the window. "The sun is almost rising!" The Queen threw off her covers and leapt out of bed, groaning slightly from the fading welts on her body. She looked at Jacqueline and noticed her flushed face for the first time. "Are you just getting back from the Silver Belle? You poor thing, what happened? Did anyone try to take advantage of you?"

"No! Well, not exactly." Jacqueline softly shivered as she recalled the events of the previous night. "I saw the Duke of Buiscard there, he came up to me, and we...talked." Jacqueline grabbed the hem of Marguerite's night cloth and lifted it off her body. The sight of Marguerite's naked flesh reminded her of the Duchess of Thiems and sent another quiver down her spine.

"What do you think? Could he be behind the blackmailer?" Marguerite asked as she stepped over to a waiting table and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe her face, clearing the tiredness from her eyes.

"I'm not sure, he didn't give anything away, but some of the things he said were suggestive, such as how people in positions of power often fantasize about being submissive." Jacqueline stepped up behind the Queen and used another towel to wipe beneath her arms and breasts, time enough for only the simplest of washes. "I think his faction could still be behind it. The Duke invited me to a gathering of his cronies, where I hope to learn more. Perhaps one of them will be the person responsible."

"Alright, good work! At least it is progress." Marguerite lifted her arms into the air, allowing Jacqueline to slide a clean linen shift down her body.

"There is one other thing. When I talked to Stephan, he reminded me that we'd need the support of the Duke and his faction to fight the Hoehns. As in, we need their soldiers, not their scutage. However, he might not be inclined to cooperate after your punishment of him." Jacqueline helped Marguerite into a dowdy, conservative, brown jacket top appropriate for church services and began to button it.

"Hmm." Marguerite thought about that as her Lady-In-Waiting attached brown sleeves to her gown. "You're right about that," she sighed, "can nothing come easy? I hate to put even more on your shoulders, but anything you can do to influence him in my favor is appreciated." Marguerite looked over her shoulder at Jacqueline. "Did anything else happen? Are you sure you're alright?"

Jacqueline hesitated to continue and attached the sleeves to the Queen's dress. After gathering her thoughts, Jacqueline said, "To get closer to the Duke, I had to, well, 'make use' of one of the women at the club." Seeing that Marguerite wanted more details, she continued, "I had to paddle her bottom and say mean things to her."

"Oh." Marguerite didn't know how to reply to that.

Is that better or worse than having things done to you? Better, I suppose, if you don't care to have those things done.

"I hope that wasn't too odious for you." Marguerite stepped into the dress's skirt so Jacqueline could pull it up and attach it to the jacket.

"No, it wasn't; actually it wasn't dissimilar to how I assist you on occasion." Jacqueline wasn't sure why she didn't want to tell Marguerite about the Duchess of Thiems licking her, except that it felt too personal. An awkward silence settled between them as Jacqueline rolled on the Queen's stockings and finished by placing slippers on her feet.

Marguerite flushed at the reminder of their time together the day before, and part of her imagined her friend paddling this other woman's backside.

I feel like she's holding something back,

Marguerite thought,

but I don't want to push. I hope nothing bad happened to her.

"I see. How did things go with Stephan? What did he have to say about the army?"

Jacqueline brightened at the mention of Marguerite's cousin. "He said that in the event of war, we can depend on maybe 6,000 soldiers, up to 9,000 if we get the full support of the nobles. But again, without the backing of the Duke of Buiscard we won't reach that." She began to comb through Marguerite's hair, working out the knots that had formed overnight.

"How many can King Victor field?"

"Possibly around 15,000, but some will have to garrison his newly conquered territories," Jacqueline answered as she began to braid Marguerite's brown locks up so they could be contained in the chain net, replacing the more traditional veil.

When she finished, Marguerite stood in front of the mirror, primping the coiffure gently before turning back to Jacqueline with a smile. "Perfect. Lorenzo said something similar; King Victor needed to delay as long as possible to consolidate his lands. That he wasn't ready for war now and would hold back as long as there appeared to be a path to a negotiated settlement."

"That would help, Your Majesty. We need time to solidify support here and from the Patriarch." Jacqueline opened the Queen's jewelry drawer and gasped when she saw the diamond necklace. "Marguerite! Where did you get this? It's beautiful!"

"From Lorenzo, he said it was a gift to celebrate our new partnership." Marguerite preened a little as Jacqueline clasped it around her neck. "Don't worry; it's perfectly appropriate. We'll tell people it was a gift from Floreze to LaRend. Which reminds me, we'll have to find something to gift in return..."

Jacqueline stood in front of the mirror once Marguerite was done and looked at her reflection in dismay. She was still wearing her dress from the night before, which was wrinkled, rumpled, and possibly stained from her activities at the Silver Belle. "Marguerite, I don't have time to go back to my room and change. May I borrow one of your dresses?"

Marguerite hesitated briefly before replying with a smile, "Of course, come, let's see what I have." The Queen led Jacqueline to her wardrobe and began browsing through it.

Jacqueline pulled out an icy blue velvet dress and held it up to her body. "This is lovely; help me put it on."

"Anyway, where were we? Oh! Lorenzo DoCasta proposed an idea to address our finances and win support from the Patriarch, and I don't think you'll ever guess what it is."

It took Marguerite a moment to realize she had instantly obeyed and began unlacing Jacqueline's sleeves. She peeled off the strips of fabric and then reached around her Lady-In-Waiting from behind to unbutton her jacket vest. The Queen felt a little tremor of pleasure as she performed the subservient role for Jacqueline. Her nipples started to stiffen against her linen shift as she pulled down Jacqueline's wrinkled skirt and found herself at eye level with her maid's round backside. Her friend's female scent was quite... aromatic.

What happened last night, and why won't she tell me?

Marguerite wondered, worrying that Jacqueline was hiding something to protect her.

"Don't hold me in suspense; tell me! What's the banker's grand idea?" Jacqueline asked as she felt Marguerite's breath waft across her backside before the Queen rose and helped remove the shift.

"He wants us to form an alliance and sack the city of Tinnis, to free any Faithful slaves we find and use their ill-gotten wealth to improve the Crown's finances." Another shiver went through the Queen as she cupped Jacqueline's breasts and lifted them slightly to wipe underneath with the towels before doing the same for her armpits.

"Oh! But is that wise, Marguerite? Should we really start a second war when we're already facing one with the Hoehns?" Jacqueline lifted her arms so Marguerite could dress her in a fresh linen shift, then held them out so the Queen could slide on the blue velvet jacket.

Marguerite held her breath as she embraced Jacqueline from behind again to button the jacket before attaching the sleeves. "It is a risk, but both Lorenzo and Stephan agree that King Victor needs time to consolidate his gains and is not ready for war. Also, I have an idea that might prevent him from attacking, at least for the duration of the campaign. That gives us time to strike, gaining the gold we need and the Patriarch's favor. Plus, Tinnis is a city-state and won't have the means to strike back if we move quickly."

"Will it provide enough treasure to build the Cathedral?" Jacqueline asked as she stepped into the skirt, allowing Marguerite to pull it up her legs and tie it to the jacket.

"No, we'll still need to borrow from the DoCasta bank. After paying for the army and campaign supplies, the remainder will be invested into LaRend and serve as surety for the line of credit." Once Jacqueline was fully dressed, Marguerite combed her fingers through her friend's hair to undo the chains holding it up and then began to brush it.

"I'm still not sure it's a good idea to get into business with the DoCastas, especially with this alliance. They seem to be deriving all the benefit, and we all the risk." Jacqueline posed before the mirror, enjoying the look and feel of the velvet gown on her body.

Marguerite stepped up behind her and fastened her silver amethyst necklace set around her neck. "It is true that most of the risk is ours, but so is much of the benefit. Besides the treasure and the favor of the Patriarch, we'll also be bloodying our soldiers and giving them experience. King Victor's troops have been fighting for years and are hardened veterans; we need to be able to match that. Further, think of the poor wretched Faithful slaves; the One God will surely bless us for their rescue."

"His will, let it be." Jacqueline turned and smiled at Marguerite. "Come, we should have time enough to make it to the ceremony."

Marguerite laughed playfully, "I doubt they'll start without us, anyway."

The pair walked briskly to the Church of the Holy Martyr. They found Stephan waiting for them in the courtyard, and together, they went into the church for the service. As Queen, Marguerite had a reserved pew in the front of the congregation. The Church of the Holy Martyr was a lovely stone building nearly two stories tall, taller if you included the bell tower. It was built over three hundred years previously and was the most distinguished holy site in the Kingdom. It had stunning stained glass windows featuring scenes from the Holy Martyr's journey, from his Calling to preaching on the streets of Parce, through fighting against the heathens before finally finding martyrdom at their hands, inspiring the conversion of thousands in the hinterlands.

Marguerite gazed lovingly around the church as the choir began to chant. The deep voices reverberated off the stone walls, creating a mystical atmosphere conducive to prayer and reverence for the One God. Soon the sweet, slightly floral scene of incense began to fill the church as the thurifer began his procession down the aisle, swinging his thurible. The gold censer was shaped like a grand castle and billowed frankincense from its many windows.

That probably cost more than my Crown

, Marguerite thought ruefully.

Still, all for the glory of the One God.

Next twelve acolytes marched side-by-side in their dark, cowled robes, chanting along with the choir. Behind them came Archbishop Richaud, dressed in golden silk brocade emblazoned with shepherd's crooks, lilies, and suns and lined with a fine ermine collar. Three small boys held the train of the lavish vestments as the cleric processed to the altar.

At the front of the church, the thurifer shook the censer over the altar, wafting the smoky incense across it. The Archbishop walked behind the altar, turned toward the congregation and started praying quietly. As he did so, the chanting faded to silence while the invocations grew in pitch until only the liturgy's devotions remained.

Despite her desire to focus on the beauty and sacredness of the liturgy, Marguerite's mind began to wander as she looked out over the other Faithful in the pews.

Is one of them the blackmailer? Is he here now, watching me?

The thought made her cringe, and she started to feel like she was being watched.

I'm being paranoid,

she tried to assure herself.

Her pew was reserved for the royal family and their attendants, which at this time included her, Stephan, and Jacqueline. Across from them, the seats were reserved for the great lords of the realm when they were in the city. She spotted the Duke and Duchess of Thiems immediately. The Duke was slumped back, looking bored, while the Duchess fidgeted beside him.

I wonder what's gotten into her?

She did not see the Duke of Buiscard, but she did spot Rathoway, the Lord Mayor of Parce. He was sitting with the Earl of Domree, and the two were conversing quietly.

Prince Gailen chose not to attend services either,

she noted.

Lorenzo and the rest of the DoCasta family in the city were seated near the back of the church as befitted their lower social status.

Silly,

she thought,

his family practically rules Floreze and wields more power and influence than most of the others put together. But his title is officially lower, and that's all that counts.

The banker smiled when he noticed her looking and half-bowed from his seat.

Marguerite's attention was drawn back to the sanctuary as Richaud stepped up to the pulpit. The Archbishop smiled as he looked out at the congregation before his high, clear voice rang out all the way to the back.

"Friends, family, flock, welcome. Today marks a momentous occasion. Today we celebrate the beginning of a wondrous monument to the One God. With deep thanks and gratitude to our illustrious Queen, Marguerite, who has so graciously funded the construction of a grand cathedral in our city." The Archbishop paused as the congregants applauded.

"A cathedral is a symbol of the One God on earth. It represents a people's faith and a testament to His everlasting glory. As we begin construction, we must all prayerfully look within ourselves to see how we can contribute to honoring the One God. For some, that might mean donating worldly goods or wealth. To others, it might mean donating talent and expertise. Still, others might seek service to the realm and its Queen, who the One God ordained to lead our people."

Marguerite sat up a little straighter, suppressing the smile as Richaud voiced his support. Every little bit would help in these trying times, and it could be that the Archbishop would swing some to her side.

Not Busicard and his supporters, though,

she lamented.

"We must all rally to our Queen as she sacrifices her temporal wealth to glorify the One God. I call upon those assembled here and all the men and women of LaRend to live up to their oaths of fealty to render Queen Marguerite aid and comfort. To freely and without reservation, fulfill the terms of your vassalage. Provide your soldiers for her defense, pay taxes fairly and on time, and speak in her favor to everyone you know. Supporting our Queen is supporting our One God, and it is our duty to serve His anointed sovereign of LaRend."

Applause thundered in the church again, and this time Marguerite allowed herself to smile even as she otherwise sat still. However, as the applause died down and the Archbishop continued, her stomach began to drop while her chest tightened.

"We must also see this occasion as a time for personal renewal. A sickness of the soul has begun to take root in Parce. Sin, my friends, sin is festering in the corners of our home. Lust. Wickedness. Depravity. Each of these sins is burrowing its way into the moral fiber of the Faithful. Reports are coming to me of wantonness, adultery, and fornication. Married women forsaking their marriage vows to engage in despicable practices. Maidens are behaving unchastely, lifting their skirts like the basest of harlots."

Marguerite blushed at that, and her cheeks burned as she desperately tried to mask her reaction and sit still through the tirade.

I can't give anything away. Don't let them see.

"But there is always time to repent, and there is always forgiveness for those who ask. Confess! If you find yourself guilty of these sins, confess! Relieve the burden on your conscience and your soul and confess. But if you persist in your iniquity, know that you cannot escape judgement forever. Even if you are not punished in this life, you surely will be punished in the next."

Jacqueline squeezed Marguerite's arm as Stephan listened on, oblivious to the tension between the two women beside him. The Queen kept her steely gaze on the Archbishop, silent and expressionless as the prelate spoke on.

"For the rest, for the righteous, upstanding people of Parce, I urge you not to stay silent in the face of depravity. If you know any who have fallen into sin, implore them to return to the Faith. Open your hearts to them and give them every opportunity to repent. But if they close their minds and hearts to grace, be prepared to expose their wickedness, for we cannot let it prosper among us. If you know where these carnal houses operate, report them. We must build the One God's Kingdom here on earth. Temporally with the construction of our Grand Cathedral, and spiritually within ourselves."

When the ceremony was over and the Archbishop had recessed from the church, the trio rose, and Marguerite turned to Jacqueline and Stephan. "You two go ahead; I want to speak to the Archbishop." The Queen watched them leave, noting the smile on Jacqueline's face.

Does she have a crush on him?

Marguerite wondered, bemused.

She met Archbishop Richaud in the sacristy behind the altar. "Good morning, Most Reverend. It was a lovely service; I'm sure the One God is most pleased."

Richaud smiled as he welcomed Marguerite. "Is He? I've often wondered whether He derives pleasure or satisfaction from our worship and glorification of Him, or if our rituals and sacrifices are for our benefit, to further our faith."

"We know the One God wants our faith above all, but I believe he appreciates the sacrifices we make to him, be they gold, incense, or our time in adoration." Marguerite bowed her head slightly, her tone naturally lowering as she spoke reverently.

"I hope you're right, Your Majesty." Richaud chuckled softly. "We're supposed to have all the answers, but the truth is we have none. We can provide our best, educated guesses as to what He wants, but his ways are unknowable to man, except for what He has revealed."

"Your sermon was rather more specific than that on what He wants, Most Reverend," Marguerite remarked.

"One thing we do know is that the One God wants us to be the best we can be, Your Majesty." Richaud scrutinized her closely. "If I may be so bold, my call for renewal is for you as well. I know I am not your confessor, but if there is anything you do want to confess, there will be forgiveness for you as well."

Marguerite wilted under the Archbishop's gaze, and for the first time, she believed he could be the one blackmailing her. A blush formed on her cheeks as she struggled to keep her eyes locked with his. The guilt of not being completely honest in her confessions and hiding her lurid passions never weighed more heavily on her conscience. "Thank you, Most Reverend, for the kind offer. I will prayerfully search my soul and make a full and honest confession at the first opportunity."

And you thought I wouldn't be able to lie to the Archbishop,

she thought. The offer of forgiveness had almost been a relief; to unburden herself of the secret and receive forgiveness. But her shame won out, and her unwillingness to truly commit to avoiding that sin again.

One day I'll be able to put this behind me, just not yet. There is too much happening.

"Let it be so, Your Majesty, as the One God wills." The Archbishop gestured for Marguerite to sit. "But I'm sure you did not come here to discuss theology. How may I serve you?"