Ariella woke abruptly to the heavy steps of a man, her head resting against his chest. She looked up to find Jacques, staring sternly ahead.
"What in heaven's name," she muttered, reaching to clutch her throbbing head.
"Oh, thank God you've woken. I just found you in the hallway laying limp. I assumed you had fainted and I've taken it upon myself to return you to your husband-"
"No." She interrupted, "Take me to my private chambers, please. In fact, I can walk myself if you would set me down."
He chuckled, "If you think I would let you walk just after you've fainted you've judged me very poorly, Your Majesty."
She sighed and allowed him to continue walking.
Once they had reached her chambers, Jacques lifted his hand to knock on the door.
They were met with Mae's judgmental stare as she slowly opened the door. She looked over Ariella, and then to Jacques who held her. She pursed her lips, displeased.
"The Queen fainted on her way from the Royal Dinner and I've come to return her back to you safely." Said Jacques, calmly.
Mae nodded, a bit of worry in her eyes. She pushed the door so that it would accommodate Jacques and stepped back for him to enter. He walked in, surveyed the room, and walked to the loveseat where he placed Ariella gently.
"Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace," Said Ariella uncomfortably as she rearranged herself on the sofa.
"It is my gentlemanly and noble duty to serve my Queen," he said nobly, "Besides, you do happen to be my best friend's wife."
She laughed softly.
Mae then returned to the room with a cloth. She stood over the two of them as if she were waiting for Jacques to depart. He did not.
"You may leave now, Sir," she muttered, pushing past him to rest the cloth on Ariella's forehead.
"Grace." He muttered, standing up from his kneeling position.
"Pardon?" Mae asked uninterestedly.
He scoffed, "Your grace. I am a duke."
Mae smirked, still unbothered to face him, "Forgive my mistake."
Jacques ignored her, nodding to Ariella in parting before he turned to leave the chambers.
Ariella smiled amusedly to Mae, who shrugged.
Just then, the doors were abruptly pushed open to reveal Callan, a disheveled mess. His chemise was untucked from his breeches, his hair falling over his forehead.
Ariella looked to Mae in question.
"I had his valet call on him," she said quietly, noticing Ariella's shocked expression, "Did you not want him here?"
"Ariella!" He shouted, running over to her side. Mae quickly moved out of the way.
He clutched her hand, "What on earth happened?"
She looked away, "I merely fainted."
"Forgive me, darling. I should have been there to help you."
"It seems another man was there in your place," muttered Mae sternly before she hurried out of the room.
Cal looked to Ariella for an answer but was met with silence.
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~Watty's 2018 Longlist~Previously featured on Wattpad Picks~ Mademoiselle Ariella du Montamorte is the most unladylike lady that ever graced the court. She is trapped in the debutante season in the hopes of finding an unwanted match, but her reckles...