AlterOne

Chapter Fifteen

The palace was bustling with activity as work went about to putting the finishing touching in preparation for the arrival of the Duke of Westigs and his court. In her chambers, the princess sat before a mirror as two of her servants busied themselves applying her makeup. One of the servants undid the princess' hair, allowing the dark brown locks to cascade onto her shoulders and flow down her back, coming to rest over a lavish peach gown. She'd been told that a new suitor was coming to call on her- the son of Duke Huffrey of Westigs, Renaud Hollisten, Count of Millua and heir to the Duchy of Westigs. It's no secret that the King wants to see his daughter married, and has constantly kept the flow of hopeful suitors coming, and time and time again, Princess Lamia has sent the dejected hopefuls away. They'd always been lesser lords or their sons, acclaimed knights, or members of a noble family, but never a Duke or their immediate successors. With her track record, none of that stature dared risk the humiliation of her rejection. At least, none before Count Renaud. With the fuss that was being made over the arrival of the Westigs court, one would think that wedding bells were but a morning away. A shrill cry came from the doorway. Lamia turned as her friends and ladies-in-waiting, Countess Verounica of Anholt and the heir to the Duchy of Saris, Lady Ezibele of Saris, stepped into the room. Short and thin, with a head of crinkled red hair, Lady Ezibele bounced on the balls of her feet as she came, while the taller Countess Verounica gave a slight raise of the brow upon seeing Lamia.

"By Deva's name you look so beautiful!" cried Lady Ezibele, following her words with another excited shriek.

"Enough of that you," chided Countess Verounica at Lady Ezibele, before turning her attention back to the Princess. "But yes, you do look beautiful Lamia. Should I assume you're taking this one seriously?"

"She should," Lady Ezibele said, clasping her hands together and placing them by her cheek. "Have you not seen Count Renaud? He's soo handsome, he's a real man if I've ever seen one."

"That'll be all," Princess Lamia said, addressing the servants. They bowed and exited the room. Once they were gone, she spoke to her ladies. "The only reason I'm going this is because my father practically begged me. I'm perfectly content with the life I have with my son."

"I beg to differ," the Countess replied. "You sometimes mope around her all day as if the world is just broken."

"Trust me, I'm quite happy," Lamia stated. "My job-"

"Keeps you busy," the Countess cut in. "You need to find something to put a smile on that face."

"Like a nice cock," Lady Saris interjected, receiving a roll of the eyes from Countess Verounica. "Oh don't look at me that way. Everyone and their mothers are thinking the same thing."

The door opened and King Memsi strode into the room, an obvious pep in his step. The King was a robustly bearded and thickset man, though as the years went, his heavy build had given way to a belly that hung noticeably over his golden belt buckle. Had it not been for the firmness of his wear, the bejeweled buckle would surely have been lost to the King's mass. From within the beard, he bellowed out in a sing-song voice.

"They're here!"

As the King drew near, the ladies-in-waiting bowed to their lord who in turn gave them a sincere nod in return before taking his place behind his daughter. He placed his hands on Lamia's shoulders and bent over, drawing his bearded face close to hers as he took in the reflection in the mirror, admiration on his face.

"You look just like her," he said, his voice low.

At the mention of such, Lamia diverted her eyes from the mirror.

"People used to mistake us for sisters," she replied, smiling at the thought.

King Memsi started to speak, but paused as with thoughts of his late wife resurfaced memories of a time long past when they were all together. It was not a simpler time. It was a time of war. For the King, it had also been a time of ignorance. How he wished he was still such a fool.