The Widow

Chapter Six: Trapped by the Storm

Consistent rain was what kept them back, the roads were flooded, the horses could barely pull the carriage through the thick mud, and it seems another storm will come during the day- only harsher than it were at night. The guest that were left at the party were trapped behind the castle walls, most of them were the generals and a few young duchesses that found company in Talia's presence. They all were up to day in the latest fashion, powdered wigs to match their pale skin, dresses a light color of pink and blue with gold trims, feathers stuck out from their wigs to match their dresses, and a few managed to drag their small poodles to the ball and used them as an accessory.

Poor dogs... Emelie thought with seeing the puffy hair innocent animals that stayed under their owners dress for extra warmth and hopefully they'll receive scraps that dropped to the ground. She even placed a piece of fish under the table during lunch, most of them ate the natural based protein, some turned their noses in disgust-however, they feast on the pound cake Emelie mistakenly dropped.

"Emelie, you have not spoken all day." One of the ladies went by the name of Lucy Gold, but her true name were Lucy Golson- the daughter of a very old priest and wife of a very known general. Most of the ladies were married, only Talia did not hold the title of wife upon the small group. "What has you blue?"

"Her and my brother were supposed to go on their honeymoon, but the rain keeps them in." Talia decided to answer, she's been Emelie's speaker for the entire day. Sometimes Emelie appreciates the gesture, and other times she's irritated of not having her own voice- these were of of those times.

"When are you going to let her speak, Talia?" Another woman, Thelma Pratt spoke up with her Scottish accent that was slowly becoming a British accent the more she spends living in England, along with being the the older and wise motherly one of the group- Thelma also held her own title of duchess, the only woman their who was born into the class instead of married. "Emelie has a voice."

Talia discreetly rolls her eyes before cutting them to Emelie, who witnessed the entire gesture. Emelie cleared her throat to get rid of the cold stare from her sister-in-law, even if it's not her fault for Thelma's outburst. "Well," the young wife spoke. "Talia speaks the truth, we had high hopes of going to Paris, but the journey was ruined by the weather."

"Is it true, your mother was a... servant?" Lucy spoke in pure curiosity, however her face twisted at the word- servant. The help was looked down upon, especially when they are from different countries and their family were sold like pots in the market.

Emelie was not ashamed of her mother's hardship in life, along with the fact she did not know of her parents relationship other than her being born in a family of servants and rounded up in Harold's bed. There's been rumors of force and male advantage, that her mother had no say in the ordeal; but Emelie tried not to think of the wrongs her father has done, if so, she would end up hating him. "Yes, my mother were a servant. Which explains my color of skin, how darker of shade it is compared to you all, my hair is very curly and hard to comb, my breast fuller, and my lips plumper and a light shade of brown instead of pink. However, I am still the daughter of a duke and wife of a prince, so please, do not just refer me as the daughter of a servant." Her words were kind and gentle, but also firm and strict.

The woman clamped up, their curiosity died down and neither of them could no longer look Emelie in the eye after her soft demand and confidence of status. Talia was the only one to share amusement and joy, "More pound cake, anyone?"

*~*~*~*

Emelie found herself in the dark room again, back in Netherlands, she would hide herself in her father studies to listen in on war strategies and upcoming problems involving the country. She took pride in her knowledge that only men could be taught, her skills of planning and even solving problems of the kingdom became stronger during the years as once every month her father will come to her for advice about the villagers and trading. Harold knee of her daughter's secrecy, he would see her tiny feet sticking out from behind the curtains were she hid, many times he would let her stay; but sometimes when matters were more strict and inappropriate for a young girls ear, he would nudge her out the room.

This time, there's no shoeing her out because they could not see her, and Harold was so wrapped in his hatred towards the British colony and this war to even search for his daughter's shoes sticking out of curtains or her eyes behind old paintings. "We must round up our men and hit them on both sides, box them in." He spoke with passion and confidence, his face were stern but eyes bright with excitement. A game of chess, a complicated and life threatening game of chess that both sides will either play by the rules or cheat to win, but you must be prepared for both... Harold's past statement occupies her mind, before another voice filled it.

"Yes, boxing them in may be a good strategy, but we do not know how much men they have to even be able to do such a thing." Jacob stepped forward, still glaring at her father with as much hatred to represent England, as Harold shared the view of Netherlands. The rivals of the British and Dutch was brand new, still fresh out the box, as their trade routes intertwined and their were rumors of war between the two countries. However, there's no time for fighting while Spain were causing their own bloodshed, so they were left to scolding each other to hell. "Antonio Sanchez is an excellent strategist, he'll know how to take our advantage and turn it into his own, we must tread lightly."

"Tread lightly?" Another General step forward to speak his mind. Emelie could not recall his name, but she knows the sinister scar upon his right cheek. The General has appeared to many of her father's suppers, been honored numerous of times and even became her father's hunting buddy for decades. Their friendship were thick and powerful, but she did not trust him for more than a second; something about his eyes that made Emelie tread lightly. "You are quite the joker aren't you. As we tread lightly, Spain is taking our lands and damaging our trade routes; we must act now."

"Acting now would have greater consequences." Jacob retorted, he was the only young general, and the only one to represent England as the cougar their own problems at hand. "Lose the battle, win the war. Have your armies pull back, let the Spaniard's think they've won; their egos will be their downfall. Then, by fortnight, we will make our attack."

Emelie nod her head in agreement, even though no one could see her and if she were there in the room the men wouldn't be focused on the war. The room became still and quiet, their eyes averted to Dion and Ouen who were too busy sharing a look- a form of communication. Prince Ouen was the first to speak, "General Jacob is correct, we must hold back. However, treading lightly will not change anything, as we stay here arguing, we could be gaining allies. Poland has not yet made their decision, Spain has not yet asked of them, we must speak with them before their ranks our taken."

"I will speak with them." Harold volunteers. "A second relative is in the council of Poland empire, I will have him be on our side and present the situation to the councilmen. I will leave tomorrow and send a letter out today."

"Sir Jacob will join you on your journey, Poland is in good favor to England." Dion voiced, setting no chance of having another volunteer take Jacob's place. "It is settled then, let us take this day as relaxation and calm as we wait out this storm."

*~*~*~*

Emelie has never been fifty miles away from her father nor step-mother, there's never a day where they did not travel together or had at least one meal in each other presence. Now that they were set to leave for home and Poland, Emelie felt trapped and foreign to the kingdom, she found herself wanted to go home with them; however, she managed to keep her true emotions on the inside. "I will write." She voiced after the painful goodbyes.

"And we will visit for the next ball in three weeks time." Abigail gave her step-daughter another encouraging hug that oddly made Emelie warm inside, no matter how many times she scorned the woman for her excessive amount of praying and cold stares.

"Have a safe journey, to you both." Saying even more goodbyes to everyone else, her parents took off and left her alone with strangers that's supposed to be her new family. The day were sunny after yesterday's storm, but Emelie did not fell sunny nor warm.

"Do not be sad, child." Queen Elizabeth stepped forward, placing a comforting hold on her daughter-in-law's shoulder. "They will be in touch, and you are not alone- we are family now."

Family... Another word added to Emelie's vocabulary of norms.