snide comments garnered her little favor from anyone, save the king, who seemed to relish in her condescension. She used to make every choice with fierce calculation, now she defaulted to tears.
The reason Marcus resented her hinged on the water works from her eyes. No longer the woman she once was, he liked her more, much more, when she’d been ruthless.
“Your Majesty, His Grace has arrived home. He requests dinner, with you, privately this evening,” Scarlet spoke discreetly in the queen’s ear.
Taken aback Cozette, a prickle of fear shot through her. Although she desperately wanted to rekindle the love she and her husband once had, she questioned his motives even now. The possibility remained that he wanted her to feel horrible. His words had a way of stabbing her heart, but it wasn’t just that. What worried her was the tightness in his eyes when he looked at her now, and the feeling that someday it might be more than his words that caused her pain.
“Thank you, Scarlet. I have seen the last representative out, would you please accompany me to my chamber to dress for the evening?”
Her safety in mind, Cozette considered another possible reason for tonight’s dinner, and reason at the forefront of her mind wasn’t a pretty one. She had waited years for him to say it. She believed only a matter of time had to pass before the king delicately removed her from the Palace, escorted away. Then he could find a real queen, one who would produce an heir. Perhaps tonight was the night. Although she braced herself for so long, she never properly prepared for it actually happening.
Scarlet laid out a fine dress for her, pink taffeta lined in crystals. It looked like a poof of purity.
“Not that. I want something … regal. Blue, with sapphire’s.” She walked in her closet where Scarlet sorted through frocks. “This one.” She held up a royal gown.
“Isn’t that one … err, quite old, Queen Cozette?” Scarlet eyed the dated dress warily.
“Yes. I wore it on the day King Marcus announced we would wed. Do you think it might still fit?” Cozette strummed her fingers across the twenty-year-old dress. Although it happened so long ago it would be impossible to forget the moment of euphoria she shared with Marcus when they were presented before Marcus’s father. She was so proud, so hopeful, so in love.
She wore this blue dress and felt like the queen she became.
“It will fit. You’re as slender as a doll.”
As Scarlet laced the corset tight, and then gingerly fastened the pearl buttons covering the back of the blue gown, nostalgia overwhelmed Cozette. If Marcus sent her away, at least she would have the memories of what was. She watched in the mirror as Scarlet piled her hair high upon her head, face powdered with translucent dust. In a moment of longing she added black liner across her eyes in a dramatic flourish. The signature look she wore when she … well before. Before the pieces of her began to unravel.
“Your Majesty, you look like the portrait in the Great Hall, from when you were first crowned queen, but somehow more beautiful. The years have been kind to you.” Scarlet dipped her head reverently at the woman she spent her days serving.
“Oh, sweet girl. Stand, and remember this: whatever happens next, I will always have a place for you in my employ. You will not leave my side till the end of my days.”
“Your Highness, if I hear anything, anything at all from the servants, I will let you know post-haste. You know that I always serve you, first.”
“I know, my girl. I know.” Cozette walked out of her chambers, the smallest trace of sorrow lining her mouth. Then, facing Scarlet, she smiled. She had devoted friends, even if they came in unlikely places. She walked from her chamber determined to be strong.
The dining room, with the capacity to hold forty people at the large table, was set for two. Candles were lit and the guards in their fine livery stood, waiting for the queen to
The reason Marcus resented her hinged on the water works from her eyes. No longer the woman she once was, he liked her more, much more, when she’d been ruthless.
“Your Majesty, His Grace has arrived home. He requests dinner, with you, privately this evening,” Scarlet spoke discreetly in the queen’s ear.
Taken aback Cozette, a prickle of fear shot through her. Although she desperately wanted to rekindle the love she and her husband once had, she questioned his motives even now. The possibility remained that he wanted her to feel horrible. His words had a way of stabbing her heart, but it wasn’t just that. What worried her was the tightness in his eyes when he looked at her now, and the feeling that someday it might be more than his words that caused her pain.
“Thank you, Scarlet. I have seen the last representative out, would you please accompany me to my chamber to dress for the evening?”
Her safety in mind, Cozette considered another possible reason for tonight’s dinner, and reason at the forefront of her mind wasn’t a pretty one. She had waited years for him to say it. She believed only a matter of time had to pass before the king delicately removed her from the Palace, escorted away. Then he could find a real queen, one who would produce an heir. Perhaps tonight was the night. Although she braced herself for so long, she never properly prepared for it actually happening.
Scarlet laid out a fine dress for her, pink taffeta lined in crystals. It looked like a poof of purity.
“Not that. I want something … regal. Blue, with sapphire’s.” She walked in her closet where Scarlet sorted through frocks. “This one.” She held up a royal gown.
“Isn’t that one … err, quite old, Queen Cozette?” Scarlet eyed the dated dress warily.
“Yes. I wore it on the day King Marcus announced we would wed. Do you think it might still fit?” Cozette strummed her fingers across the twenty-year-old dress. Although it happened so long ago it would be impossible to forget the moment of euphoria she shared with Marcus when they were presented before Marcus’s father. She was so proud, so hopeful, so in love.
She wore this blue dress and felt like the queen she became.
“It will fit. You’re as slender as a doll.”
As Scarlet laced the corset tight, and then gingerly fastened the pearl buttons covering the back of the blue gown, nostalgia overwhelmed Cozette. If Marcus sent her away, at least she would have the memories of what was. She watched in the mirror as Scarlet piled her hair high upon her head, face powdered with translucent dust. In a moment of longing she added black liner across her eyes in a dramatic flourish. The signature look she wore when she … well before. Before the pieces of her began to unravel.
“Your Majesty, you look like the portrait in the Great Hall, from when you were first crowned queen, but somehow more beautiful. The years have been kind to you.” Scarlet dipped her head reverently at the woman she spent her days serving.
“Oh, sweet girl. Stand, and remember this: whatever happens next, I will always have a place for you in my employ. You will not leave my side till the end of my days.”
“Your Highness, if I hear anything, anything at all from the servants, I will let you know post-haste. You know that I always serve you, first.”
“I know, my girl. I know.” Cozette walked out of her chambers, the smallest trace of sorrow lining her mouth. Then, facing Scarlet, she smiled. She had devoted friends, even if they came in unlikely places. She walked from her chamber determined to be strong.
The dining room, with the capacity to hold forty people at the large table, was set for two. Candles were lit and the guards in their fine livery stood, waiting for the queen to
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