The Girl in the Slippers

Chapter Two- Caspar

Although his father had not married her for her beauty, there was something so otherworldly about her that he agreed to the betrothal anyway. Caspar believed it was in the way she held herself, like she was a queen by blood. And now, standing in front of Artemisia and facing her stunning gaze, her lips stained red and her crown perched among strategically placed curls, he felt more nervous than when he was in front of his father.

'Mama...' he began, widening his eyes to appeal to her motherly instincts. With a long suffering sigh, she opened her arms from her place where she lay on the couch. Caspar eagerly walked into them, settling against her collarbone. 'Father is making me go with Marius to the army.'

'Yes, I was the one who suggested it.'

Blinking in surprise, he pulled back to look at her. 'Why would you do that?'

'Caspar, I love you and your siblings more than my life. You and Marius are to be twenty in the next year and that is a fine age to marry and settle down. Your father and I were that age when we had the two of you and I dearly want grandchildren, especially now that Violette has reached five years old...'

'If you want a baby have your own!' he protested against her sly smile.

'Oh no, the seven of you are more than enough for me. I am now old enough to be a grandmother, so I expect grandchildren within the next two years-'

'That isn't something you can just demand from us!'

'-and since there are seven of you, I anticipate at least fourteen grandchildren, two each, to play with eventually. And so, I hinted to your father that perhaps sending you to the army would allow you to mature enough to take a bride.' She smirked down at him, kneeling before her, like she had solved the meaning of life.

'Mama!' he couldn't help but whine. 'I though I was your favourite child?'

'Yes, so you will be married first.' He almost collapsed at the calculating look on her face. What his mother did not have in beauty she made up for in wit and purpose. Her plans never failed. 'Is no one on my side anymore?' Caspar cried. 'Marriage and duty were always Marius' thing!'

'Darling Marius has enough on his plate, does he not, Caspar? You forget that on March 15th, your birthday, he will sit on the silver throne and be declared the crowned heir. And if he cannot withstand the silver for longer than ten minutes...'

He snorted loudly. 'I do not doubt that he will. Marius is many things but above all he is stubborn.'

'There is no point in further discussing this. The choice has already been made for you. Now, leave me be and call for your sisters. We must all prepare for the New Year celebrations tonight, together.'

So clearly dismissed, and despondent that his mother had not sympathised with his plight but instead encouraged it, Caspar left the chamber and dawdled sluggishly towards the wing where all his sisters resided. He had five of them.

Luckily he found the oldest, Katarzyna, in the first room he tried. She was perched on a sofa in a position identical to his mother had been, a pair of knitting needles held in her hands.

'Caspar!' she cried before he could say anything. 'Here, do try this on for me. I have to check the length.'

She looped a haphazardly made scarf around his neck. It was truthfully the most ghastly thing he had ever seen, and he hoped it wasn't his birthday present. Although Kat had many talents, knitting was not one of them- which made her want to try to perfect it even more.

'Ah, it's perfect! Do you think Marius will like it, for his birthday?' He barely refrained a sigh of relief.

'Marius adores everything you make him, Kitty.' And it was true. As the heir, Marius received many expensive gifts during their birthday and Christmas, so he treasured whatever their younger sisters made him with their own hands. Even if they were as ugly as the patchwork scarf he was currently wearing.