Her Rightful Place

66: The Guests

Xavier rereads Mireille's letter for the two hundred and forty-seventh time since his receipt of it, having stolen a few moments of privacy for himself in an alcove near the Hall of Private Audience where he has been meeting with his Royal Advisors about some last-minute arrangements for the Midsummer's Eve Ball. According to the latest correspondence from King Christophe, the Vyrunian Court should be arriving today. The Prince is practically beside himself with impatience to see Princess Mireille again. Other guests will also be arriving over the next several hours, and he will have to officially greet all of them with Queen Bêtel and keep her from offending them, and those guests might include the dubious delegation from Khandazar, but Xavier cannot focus on any of that for more than a moment or two at a time. It will be difficult, with everything else, but we must find a way, a time, a place to talk, for all the questions to be answered, he determines, and perhaps for us to discuss whether what has been planned for us is what is actually best for us.

He cares for her deeply, more than he can express, more than one would think possible given that they have interacted in person less than a handful of times. However, each letter that has travelled between them has deepened their relationship, and he has yet to encounter a member of a royal house, other than King Christophe himself, so compatible with him in all things related to actually ruling. That Mireille is a good match for him, Xavier does not doubt; what causes him distress is the question of love, still unanswered.

"Ah, there you are," the Duke of Pelanshire interrupts his best friend's thoughts. "I have just received words that some Vyrunians are making their way into our main courtyard. Shall we go and greet them?"

"Of course," Prince Xavier agrees, only partially hiding how the Duke has caught him off-guard as he stuffs Mireille's letter hastily into his doublet. Jerôme smirks slightly but does not comment, knowing how many of Christelle's letters are currently tucked next to his own heart. He is at least as anxious to see the Duchess of Alsantias as Xavier is to see the Vyrunian Princess.

They make their way quickly through the corridors of Cloiche Fuar, finding no need for words with anticipation so thick in the air. Much to their relief, they arrive in the main courtyard of Cloiche Fuar just before Queen Bêtel does. The Queen is, for once, accompanied by a few ladies in court clothes, as well as her favorite interpreter, and she herself is wearing a gown that is not spattered with blood. Xavier is suitably impressed.

"Ah, Xavier. You made it. I was afraid those graybeards would keep you from the most important parts of the day," Queen Bêtel addresses her son.

"I would not miss this for anything, Your Majesty. I know how important this is for the future of Mordalce," Prince Xavier replies diplomatically. They take their places just outside the main doors of Cloiche Fuar itself. Only the outriders of the Vyrunian Court had arrived prior to this, but in the same instant they take their places, the first of many Vyrunian Royal Carriages pulls into the courtyard. Xavier's heart leaps into his throat. He knows that this first carriage likely contains only guards and baggage, but this knowledge does little to soothe his nerves. She will be here, in this courtyard. We will see each other face to face again. Will the Queen recognize her? God, if you are there, please let Queen Bêtel remain blissfully ignorant to the fact that she has met this Mireille before, on her journey to obtain a new seamstress, Xavier prays.

"Plain black carriages? Their Majesties of Vyrunia have lost their traditional taste," Queen Bêtel mutters, clearly displeased with the Vyrunian choice of conveyance.

"Likely this selection is owed to security concerns, rather than a change in taste," the Prince points out, "what with all Khandazar has been up to—"